Alexander had spent the bulk of the day mapping out his newest invention. Drawing up plans, and whatnot. It was his least favorite step. But a very necessary one. One mistake in that stage could spell disaster later down the line. It was a lesson he had learned the hard way. He remembered the accident well. The dammed thing went up in flames. That wasn't the worst of it through. It took part of Blackmoor manor with it. It costed Alexander to have that wing rebuild. He had set that money aside to be used for the house, though not like that. He had wanted to use it to refurbish the house, give it a new lick of paint. Because it really needed it. Nothing had been done to it since his great-grandfather had built it all those years ago. But after the fire fiasco. Alexander had no choice but to scrap is plans. He still did small things to the place whenever he could. But a big renovation was just out of his budget. The young lord sighed. As he stood up from his chair. Still, he shouldn't complain. The house was still very grand, and while he didn't have the funds, he wished he had. The man still made enough to live the high life. The thought made his smile as she neatly organized the papers he had been working on. So he start again tomorrow right where he left off.

Only when the man was done, did he notice the weather outside. It was simply pouring. How long had it been like this? He really had no idea. When Alexander worked, he often focused completely on it. This zoning out absolutely everything around him. The brunette walked closer to the large window of his study. It wasn't just raining outside, no, a proper storm had rolled over Ashmoor it seemed. Hmm, just another reason why he shouldn't complain about his house. Despite the state, it was in. It kept him safe from the elements. A luxury many did not have. Alexander placed his hands behind his back as he moved away from the window. He was getting rather tired. It was time to spend the reaming hours of the day in the main living area of the house. With a worm fire, some wine. And a good book. 

Though, when he made his way to the drawing room, he passed the front of the house too. And it just so happened that someone was banging on the front door. Alexander saw his footman running past him, probably on his way to greet just whoever was making all that racket. But Alexander stopped the old man. "It's alright, Manfred, I've got it." He said with a smile. The servant looked at him with defiant-yet well-meaning eyes. And just like the young lord expected, the man protested. "Come now, is it really such a strange thing for a man to answer the door of his own home?" He asked, still with a smile on his face. But his voice got noticeable more stern. The retrainer backed down. And Alexander walked past the man

Really, he had been curious. Curious for who in the world it could be. It was storming outside, properly storming. Who would make a house call at a time like this? Maybel, maybel did. Alexaner almost didn't believe his eyes when he opened the door. He thought he was dreaming. But when he felt the cold wind on his face, mixed with little raindrops. He knew that wasn't the case. Perhaps his mind was playing tricks on him then? Alexander was ready to convince himself that-that was happening right now. 

But then she pushed her body over the threshold that separated the inside and outside the house. And the young master had grabbed her, gently by the arms. Supporting her. She felt cold to the touch, and yet the hint of warmth he came to expect from here was still there. Faintly, flickering like dimming candlelight. She needed warm socks, she said. But to that Alexander could only shake his head. "My dear, you need much more than that!" He proclaimed, his voice full of worry and shock. "A bath must be drawn for you, and you need fresh clothing. I think I have some things you can wear." He moved away from her. Just a little bit. So he could close the door behind them, and he guided her further into the house. "After that, you can warm yourself up further by the fire if you like? I've got a really grand one in my drawing room. And perhaps you'd like some soup too? Or maybe just thee-anything you want." He tried to give her a comforting smile as he spoke. Though the panic still shone true in his eyes. 

Alexander's smile was already on shaky ground, so it really didn't take much for it to be knocked away completely. Though when the woman spoke the next five words. Not only did it make his smile disappear. It made his whole stomach twist in a terrible knot. He looked at her with confusion for a few moments. While he racked his brain for possible reasons she could be be apologizing for; since in his eyes, she hadn't done anything wrong. Then came the tears, and Maybel repeated herself. ‘I am so sorry,’ It echoed in his mind. Not only that, but also the way she had said it. With a wavering voice. It hurt him, everything about this seemed to cut him deeper than any knife could. But Alexander didn't speak up. No, instead he listened. He listened as Maybel got every word she wanted off her chest. He only held her, in a warm embrace. In an attempt to console her. He didn't tell her to stop weeping. Because contrary to popular belief; crying wasn't a bad thing to do. At least he didn't think so. So he wanted her the opportunity to cry her heart out if she wanted to. It was a healthy coping mechanism. While keeping your emotions all bottled up all the time, certainly was not. More than that, he wanted to show her that she was safe with him. Even at her most venerable. Because everyone needs someone like that in their life, no? And he wanted to be that person for her.

Then she locked up at him. And he at her. Their eyes locked. His was still full of her, and hers full of tears. ‘I should not be here,’ She said then. And Alexander moved his hand to the side of her face. Cupping it. "Maybel." He said in a soft, yet clear manner. "Please understand one thing." He continued on as he moved some strands of her wet hair away from her pretty face. "You don't have to apologize for anything, because you did nothing wrong. I'm your friend. So you're always welcome at my house." He stopped dead in his tracks for a moment. While his gaze intensified. "And I will always help you if you want me too." It was a promise. Then the young master realeased the woman out of his gentle grip and stepped back a little. Giving her some space. "Now if you really don't want to be here. I'll escort you home." He would even stay behind if she wanted to make th journey back alone. It didnt matter to him aslong as Maybel was happy with in the end. "But you dont have to go."

A throaty ‘‘Thank you,’’ left her lips. And Alexander could feel the corners of his mouth curl up ever so slightly. He wanted to act modestly, like he usually did when others showed their appreciation for him. Wave if off with a laugh, and act as if, well, "It was nothing really." But he didn't do that this time. Instead, he reached for her hand. And squeezed it gently, His eyes softened. The worry in them seemed to melt away like summer snow before the sun. And was replaced by something else. Something that made his look appear, so full of understanding. "Of course." He said. In a steady manner. Self-assured. Like he fully stood behind what he said to her. Which, he did.

When he tore himself away from her. His heart immediately regretted it. The way her arms wrapped seemed desperate for something to hold. Yet there was nothing to cling. So she wrapped them around herself. Not to mention the shivering. It was such a sorry sight to see her so. One Alexander never thought he would see. This Maybel was so different from the one she had presented to him in the short time they knew each other. Yet, as the old saying goes; "there are always the sides to a coin." He had offerd to escort het back home. He understood that perhaps at this moment, she would want to be alone. In a familiar setting. Or perhaps seek comfort in her family members. But he had barely finished his sentence before an answer was thrown his way. It was a quick yet very clear ‘‘No!’ Alexander would be lying if was somewhat pleased with her choice. Because in all honestly, he did not want to let her go. He wanted her here. With him. ‘‘I mean-’’ And then, she laughed. It was frail and watery. But it was there. And it was enough to make him smile fully back. Then she spoke about his clothing and about how she had sullied them. In all honestly, Alexander hadn't even noticed the patches of wetness she had created on his clothes when they held each other in embrace. Nor did it matter to him. It didn't seem important at all. But now that she had drawn attention to the fact. He took it as an opportunity to change the subject to something a little more light-hearted. "So you did." He began as he took her hand once more and guided to a grand staircase that was standing a little further back in this entry area to the house. "Now we must both change into something else." He went on as she stopped at the bottom of the stairs. "But no matter, I've got a closet full of coats and the like. Why, I even have some that I think would look great on you too." He laughed as he acted like he was inspecting her. Even walking several circles around her. "They might be a little big for you, though." He teased as he stepped back. He moved his case to the stairs again. It lead to the top floor. He had enough rooms in where Maybel could freshen up for the time being. "Come, let me show you to your room for now. I'll send my chief maid your way, so she can assist you further."

Only when he heard the pitter-patter of her feet on the cold marble floor. Did he remember the fact that Maybel wasn't wearing any shoes. He had completely forgotten about it. Because, well-there had been more pressing matters to attend, too. Even now, when Maybel was in a better mood than before. He didn't ask any questions pertaining to her situation. That would come later. When she had some time to freshen up. Or at the very least. He thought she would tell him then. But perhaps it was not for his ears. Whatever the case, he wouldn't speak about it if she didn't bring it up first.

The two shared a sweet and savory moment next. When he had said that she would look great in one of his coats. Maybel quickly responded in a manner, he had come to expect from her. ‘‘I look good in everything,’’ The winter raised her head a bit. Though it wasn't because out of vanity. At least it didn't strike him like that in the slightest. It seemed more like the truth. Like she had just spoken a fact. Something no one could argue with. And naturally he wouldn't. "You do indeed." He laughed softy. Speaking more to himself than to her. Alexander made a great show about inspecting her. Like one would do in the theater. Walking circles around the person, hunched over slightly. And keeping an extremely focused look throughout. He had done it as a joke. But perhaps he did deserve that whack he got from her. It was all in good fun. Though, he had te admit; she can hit hard. And he held his hands in front of his body as he backed off a little. The young master joked that whatever he had in his closet would be too big for her. A comment that got a sarcastic response. Though, Alexander wasn't thrown off. "Come now," He said in a light, teasing manner. "Didn't you just say that you looked great in everything?"

Alexander helped Maybel up the stairs. He felt she needed someone guiding her along. Just in case, he wouldn't want her to trip over her clothing and fall. When he showed her the room, he left her alone for just a little while. Before he walked back done to the main entryway of the hall. There he had a bell system, allowing him to call for any servant he liked without having to go looking for them. And soon enough the maid arrived. And he instructed her accordingly. Alexander watched as she saw the servant disappear into out of view. He then called his groom Manfred. Who arrived quickly, too. It was clear that the old man was racked with curiosity. Though didn't ask any questions, something Alexander knew took a lot of will power from the man. The young master then told him to light a fire in the drawing room, and to follow the standard precedings they had whenever Blackmoor manner had a quest. When his servant asked about the Victuals, and what he would like served. Alexander thought for a moment. He glanced at the staircase. His mind wandering off too, Maybel. He could have something prepared for her. By the chef he had in his employ. But-he had this great recipe for stew that really no one but him could make. No matter how many times the head cook tried. It was always missing something. Alexander had learned it from his mother. He had fond memories of making the dish with her when he was but a boy. It was great for when one was feeling under the weather. It had a certain flavor to it that just made all worries and doubts fade away. At least for a short time. Almost like magic.

So he made it himself. Alexander wasn't a great cook by any means. But he knew how to make this meal by heart. Luckily they had all the necessary ingredients, because he wanted it to be perfect. For Maybel. She deserved nothing less, after all. The process took longer than he had anticipated. And as Alexander look at the old clock they had hanging in the kitchen, he started to get a little worried. He had no idea when Maybel would be ready. And the last thing he wanted was to keep her waiting for long. Perhaps he should send a servant. To collect her. The young man looked back at the food he was cooking. It was almost ready. Just a few more minutes. He should be able to make that, right? The loud noise of the kettle brought him to reality. Not only was he making something for Maybel to eat. But was preparing a cup of tea for her too. When all was ready, he moved all the plates and cups up on a serving tray. And actually carried it himself. Perhaps it was unbefitting for a nobleman like himself to do so. But he didn't mind it all. He rushed to where he thought Maybel would be. Though always careful to maintain his balance. He didn't want anything to fall off, after all.

And sure enough, there she was. Alone, in an unknown house. Naturally, she didn't know where to go. The woman called out for him. And somehow, it stung his heart. When he caught her eye, he waved with his free hand. Beckoning her to come to him. And when she did, he spoke. "I'm sorry about that." Was the first thing that left his lips. "I hope you weren't waiting long. I resolved to cook something for you by my own hand. Since, well; I thought you would be craving something warm. But I misjudged the time it would take me to prepare it all."

When he approached her, tray in hand. She was all astonishment. ‘‘You made this?’’ The woman asked, awe-struck. Alexander on the other hand just shrugged. "I am the only one who knows how." She said, matter-of-factly. Though, his manner had a hint of playfulness to it. Something it always really had, only a true sorry sight could persuade the man to change his demeanor into something serious. And Maybel in tears was certainly one of them. But lucky that had all passed now. When Maybel stepped towards him, he explained himself. And apologized for making her wait. But to that, she only chucked in a manner that made it seem she was unconvinced. ‘‘Don't be sorry, I'm the one intruding your house.’’ After she had spoken those words. A sad smile followed. It made Alexander frown. "Don't say that." The man said, softly this time. Tenderly. Because for him; it didn't feel like she was intruding at all. She didn't barge in at all; Because that would mean she was uninvited. And that certainly wasn't the case. Maybel was always welcome at his house. Whatever the reason. He would always make time, and space for her. No matter what. "You're my most esteemed guest, so you're not intruding at all. If anything, I'm honored to have you here in my home." He went on as she showed her a gentle smile. It was true, even, Alexander never had a visitor as grand as Maybel Winter. But then again, he never had the chance to host some quite as pretty as her either. The lady then rolled up her sleeved and offered to help him with the tray he was carrying. He nodded, and before long she snatched the cups of tea away. Taking a lot more weight off the tray than he had thought possible. But he was glad all the same. Because it made the rest a lot easier to carry on one hand. "That way?’’ She then asked. Pointing to a certain direction. And he knew the why, even when they were standing here in the hall. The sound of the fire he had ordered Manfred to light for them in the drawing room could be heard loud and clear. "Follow me." He whispered. Though, it probably won't even be needed for him to take the lead. Maybel had demonstrated for the second time this evening her impeccable direction skills. By first finding his house, and now the fire. 

When they entered the familiar room, a sense of shame almost washed over him. His house was not as grand as Maybel was probably used too. And while the drawing room was one of the better looking rooms in the house. It still most likely paled in comparison. To the winter palace, and her father's grand estates. Thus, he stayed back a bit, as Maybel placed the cups down on the table close by the fire. And took a seat in one of the couches. Timidly, he followed her example, letting the tray rest right in the middle of the wood surface. He didn't, sit, though. Instead, she decided to stand for just a little more. He walked over to the fire, to make sure it was proper lit. Since Manfred had a habit of failing in that department. But Alexander forgave him for it, he forgave the man for almost anything. He was old and frail. And any mistakes he made were because of that. Not because he meant any ill will. He then her Maybel speak up again. "No, you must forgive me." He then said as he turned towards her. "You must forgive me for not receiving you properly. I- I don't even have anything appropriate for you to wear." He gestured toward her clothes. "It looks good on you, don't get me wrong, but, it's not worthy of you. And neither is this house. It's falling apart- I'm ashamed that you have to witness it in this state.

The man had turned his gaze away from the woman when he spoke his last line. Instead, he moved his gaze to one of the windows. And sure enough; it was still pouring outside. It probably wouldn't clear up until the next day. Meaning that Maybel would have to spend the night, if she wanted too, naturally. Since well; he beds he had available weren't like the ones she was used to, that was for sure. He figured Maybel was the kind of girl who slept on a mattress with for the gods. With silky soft sheets. And a golden frame. His thoughts were interrupted when she grabbed his hand. Something that made snap his head towards her immediately. ‘‘No, please. Don't be ashamed. I am nothing but grateful,’’ She said, while she guided him, only letting him go when he sat right next to her on the couch. Alexander was a little surprised how willingly his body went along with the silent instructions Maybel gave it. She went on; speaking about how she loved it here. For, apparently; it felt lived in. Had character. "That's a kind thing to say." The man mumbled, though Maybel was able to make him smile a little. "You see, this place was build by my grandfather- it was a grand house back then. One of the most expensive manors in all of Ashmoor." When he thought back about it; about how his grandfather had poured his hart and soul into this place. Just to see it fall into disrepair. It made Alexander beyond sad; since he was party responsible. "He designed the whole place himself, for him and his new wife. The love of his life and my grandmother. To raise his new family in." He gestured to one of the many paintings hanging in the room. It was one of his of a beautiful youthful woman and a studious looking man. His predecessors in their prime. "She died after after the birth of her first child." A sad glint could be seen in his eyes as he had his gaze cast downwards. "To preserve her legacy, he maintained the house for decade, and ran it like she would have done." His father had been a kind man, but never good with money. So when the elder Preston died, so in a way did the house. Since, Morrigan moved his family to an apartment complex in the city. Because it was cheaper to maintain. He even had wanted to sell the house- but no one wanted to buy it for the price it was listed. Eventually the man landed on his feet enough to move back to Blackmoor. But the place had been a shadow of its former self then. And while small repairs had been made; it would never be enough. Alexander wanted to change it; he wanted to honor his grandfathers dying wish. "After his death, my father didn't have the money to keep the house initially. So we moved elsewhere." He then smiled, though it was a watery one. "But as you can see, we came back eventually." A chuckle followed. Though, it quickly died down. "But after that, the house was already beyond repair." He turned back to Maybel, locking eyes with her. "I'm trying to change my fortunes, you know? That's why I'm always trying to invent the next big thing; well, part of it. I really want to improve the world too. But, I hope to make some money with my creations. So I can use it to refurbish this manor." That was his big dream, really. And it was something he wouldn't give up on. Not in a million years. He listened as Maybel talked, about how she had lived in grand places all her life. But never in a home. It was something, Alexander never really thought about. But when he did; it changed his perspective a bit. "I wish I could too." He responded when Maybel said she loved his house. Because at the moment; he certainly didn't. But hopefully it will change one day. The winter changed the subject entirely, moving it to the clothes she was wearing. Well, they were his clothes, but. She was keeping them. And he wouldn't deny her that. "Very well, you can have them if you like." He chuckled as she seemed to bury herself in the oversized coat. Then he moved to the dishes he had prepared for them. They had been steaming hot, but with the time that had passed; would be safe to eat now. "Come try my special recipe, I worked so hard on it, you know? So you better like it; otherwise I'll be beyond offended." He teased her as he reached for the self-made stew. His spirits lifted a bit.

When he told her his story, she listened. Silently, but not absentmindedly. No, he could see she was invested. Perhaps even a little too much, since the somberness he released when he told over everything. Seemed to affect her as well. Just when her mood had lifted. He and his own insecurities ruined it again. Man, he really shot himself in the foot, didn't he? Undoing all the hard work he had put into Maybel eerily, reassuring her. Comforting her. Getting rid of that terrible moment of sadness. Just to call in back in himself just a few hours later. He knew he had to stop, and lighten the mood again. When he heard a soft apology escape her lips. So he threw some smiles after some of his next comments. But they were lackluster, and fake. He, just, couldn't force himself to mean them. He was a terrible liar, after all. A fact that was driven home even more when the woman next to him brought up his "secret" invention, in playful passing. He supposed she wasn't wrong, in making the connection. But it still didn't feel right. He had made up the whole story to impress her, in the hopes she would continue to talk to him. Because at the time, that was all he wanted. Just to be a few moments longer in her company. But he hadn't thought the whole thing through very well. And when she mentioned it again on their outing. He had wanted to supprise her with the most exciting answer. Even if it was just another lie. But now the truth came out, he supposed. And just like always, it was far less pleasing than what he wished it to be. "Yes," He said, his voice barely a whisper. Not knowing what else to say on the matter.

When he heard passionate words next, he was almost inclined to believe them. Well, in a way he did. For he had always believed in himself, and his abilities. Even when they, so far; hadn't paid off yet. It was more the way she said it. So, conviction was so intoxicating. That, really, she could make him believe anything. Such power did she yield. That Alex was sure the woman could make a fortune, as a business owner. Or even a lawyer. Or even better; as an actor. Oh, he would love to watch since on some grand stage. Swaying the audience into any emotion required for the scene she played in. But for now, the lady Winter seemed to be content with her current place. On his couch, wrapped into his clothing. Which she wanted to keep, something he ofcourse allowed without a single thought of hesitation.  ‘‘Thank you,’’ she murmured happily.  Alexander chuckeld to himself. This time, sounding not so joyless as before. When he started talking about the food he had made, and how she better not dislike it. She quickly responded back that she "wouldn't dare" to. She then took her plate, and he followed suit. Yet he could not eat before her, and her approval. Something that was suddenly so important to him. Since, well, he made her wait all that time, it had to be worth it right? And he wasn't gonna lie, his ego did kind of need that boost. When he saw that surprised look on her face. He panicked a little, thinking that she did, indeed, not like the combination of spices he had used. Were they too strong? Too overwhelming? ‘‘It's actually really good,’’ She then said, amusement present all over her face. Alexander sighed a sigh of relief. As he leaned back a little. As he finally took his own first bite of the meal, he had cooked.  ‘‘Maybe you should change professions after all,’’ The nobleman nodded his head with a smile as he thought the suggestion over in his head. "Perhaps I should, but only if you will taste test everything for me."