Before long, Martha arrived with the maid, Lily, in tow, carrying breakfast.
Both women paused briefly at the sight of Max seated at the head of the table. It was a small but significant change—one that caught them off guard.
However, they quickly composed themselves. After all, it was his rightful position by birth, and now he had to shoulder the responsibility that came with it.
Martha's gaze softened, her approval evident as she gave him a nod.
Lily, meanwhile, regarded him with a quiet sense of pride. To her, it seemed the young master of the house was finally stepping into adulthood, leaving behind his reckless, ignorant self.
As Lily carefully arranged the dishes on the table, assisted by Martha, Max averted his gaze, trying to escape the embarrassment creeping up his neck.
He understood their thoughts all too well. At 22, Max Knight had been the quintessential rich boy, privileged and prone to the occasional bout of foolishness.
While he had never been overly indulgent, his youthful missteps, though few, were now sources of discomfort and self-reflection for the new him.
With breakfast set, Max glanced at Martha and waited for her to sit as well. She tried to wave him off by avoiding his gaze, but couldn't hold out for long.
After a moment of hesitation, she joined him at the table.
Max knew his father, Arthur, had often insisted she eat with the family, regarding her as an integral part of the household.
Though she still occasionally felt nervous about crossing that invisible line, she complied this time, likely due to the change in circumstances.
Watching her settle into her seat, Max allowed himself a thin smile.
He unfolded the napkin, placed it neatly on his lap, and straightened his posture before picking up the fork and knife.
His movements were precise and deliberate, a reflection of the refined dining etiquette he had inherited from his memories.
His gaze fell on the light but healthy breakfast before him: an omelette, a fresh fruit platter, a small bowl of yoghurt, and a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice.
It was a simple yet satisfying spread, fulfilling his earlier request for a lighter meal.
With measured, steady movements, Max began eating. He took small bites, savouring the balance of spices in the omelette and the natural sweetness of the fruit.
Each sip of orange juice refreshed his palate, and for a brief moment, he allowed himself to enjoy the calmness of it all.
Though these dining manners were new to him in practice, the memories of Max Knight's upbringing had made them second nature.
Still, there was a quiet pleasure in mastering these routines, as if he were reclaiming a piece of himself. For now, the weight of incoming troubles faded, replaced by the simple act of enjoying a meal.
Occasionally, Max glanced at Martha, subtly checking to ensure his behaviour aligned with her expectations.
He was acutely aware that unconscious habits from his past self might betray him at any moment, but to his relief, her expression remained composed.
At one point, he considered asking Martha about work but caught himself.
It wouldn't align with the dining etiquette ingrained in the household. He reminded himself that such discussions were reserved for after meals—a tradition upheld to maintain the Knight household's decorum and to preserve family time.
Outside the mansion, he could afford to relax such rules, but within these walls, they were non-negotiable—a cornerstone of the family's identity.
Even his body seemed to resist breaking these ingrained habits, as if they were etched into his very being.
With a small sigh of acceptance, Max decided to focus on the present and let work-related thoughts wait until later.
When he finished his meal, Max carefully wiped his mouth with the napkin.
Noticing that Martha had also finished, they stood together and walked to another room, where they settled on the sofa for a quiet moment.
Max finally voiced the question that had been on his mind for a while.
"Grandma, did lawyer Uncle leave the papers, or will he be arriving soon?"
His inquiry carried weight. He needed to assess his assets and financial situation before making any decisions about navigating the Marvel Universe.
The Marvel Universe was a perilous place. Without prior knowledge, it might seem like his previous world, with a few extraordinary events that families discussed briefly at dinner before moving on.
But now that he understood the bigger picture, he knew those "events" were countless, and many of them, like a snap of the fingers, could decide one's fate.
Adding to his concerns, the inherited memories made it clear that not everything was as straightforward as it seemed.
He also had no certainty about which version of the Marvel Universe he had landed in: comic, movie, or some other variation.
Even if it was the movie universe, specific details remained unclear. To chart his path, Max first needed clarity on his resources.
If he were an ordinary man with no background, he might have resorted to extreme measures, such as bowing to Tony Stark, licking his boots, or devising other desperate strategies.
But now, as a man of wealth, his first step was to audit his assets.
He had to determine what resources were at his disposal and whether his father had unknowingly left behind any unresolved troubles.
His first thought was to consult the family lawyer, who would have the full details.
Martha was his only connection to understanding the situation, as Max Knight had been drowning in depression for the past two months.
Martha, as if she had been waiting for this question, responded promptly.
"He'll arrive today, likely around early noon. He called yesterday to confirm that all the judiciary matters regarding your inheritance have been settled. You only need to sign the documents to make everything official."
Max nodded, a small wave of relief washing over him. With the lawyer arriving soon, he could get a clear overview of his situation without risking oversight.
He knew that if he missed any important details, he'd have to summon the lawyer again, which would undoubtedly be awkward, especially since neither he nor the previous Max Knight had much familiarity with these matters.
After this brief conversation, Max tried to lighten the mood with small talk—something casual, just to ease the tension.
"How have things been around the house? Any trouble I should know about?" he asked, searching for something to start.
Martha, ever sensible and accommodating, gave a small nod. "Everything's fine, and I'm doing well. You should consider adjusting your daily routine for a healthier lifestyle."
Max nodded, realising she had been worried sick over the past few months. He wanted to ease her concerns.
He accepted her advice and took the opportunity to express a quiet "thank you" for her unwavering efforts, for him and the family.
Martha's expression softened as she heard his whisper. Max then noticed the shimmer in her eyes, her eyelashes wet as she struggled to hold back tears.
To avoid embarrassing her or making the moment more emotional, he decided to excuse himself and head to his father's study.
There, he planned to sift through documents and gather any information he could before the lawyer arrived.
He still had reservations about opening up—about discussing his or Martha's feelings from the past two months. For now, he preferred to keep things simple.
Meanwhile, Martha returned to her responsibilities around the house.
Both of them, in their way, felt a quiet understanding.
Though unspoken, they knew the other had resolved to move forward, leaving the shadows of the past behind.
…
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