"Your grace," Maxwell blinked up from his glass of scotch and sullenly turned around to see professor Hurst standing behind him.
The old man had disappeared somewhere when he got back to Marholm. He desperately needed him but he was nowhere to be seen. Maxwell loathed the place with it's huge mansion and gigantic, decorated lawns and hundreds of servants always bustling around. But never before did this place feel so empty to him. It was eating away at him, the emptiness...the loneliness. He was in his own personal hell. Nothing he did helped, nowhere he went helped. Even the forests that surrounded the Marholm Mansion, the forests that were supposed to be his solace, his sanctuary ceased to ease the burning pain inside his heart.
"I am not sure if you should be drinking that much, you
