The smell of leather with a mixture of dust from the parchment that was lining up in a row on the floor to ceiling shelves tickled Maxen's nostrils endlessly.
He wanted to sneeze, but he always came in short and couldn't sneeze away in full force like what he wanted to happen, which was more annoying than sniffing the scent itself.
In all honesty, Maxen hated King Alistair's private study. It reminded him of how much power his father had over him and how he was under his "rule" for as long as the king shall live.
Oftentimes, he envied his brothers, Oliver and Wyatt, who had the freedom of choosing some paths to undertake for themselves although the three of them all had one thing in common which also happened to bound them all together—the burden of keeping their families' legacy going.
