Sinister Six

Maxwell Manor

Entering Maxwell Manor was always the same; dark and outdated. You would catch a whiff of the centuries-old oak floorboards every single time. Once you passed the foyer, you were greeted with two grand rooms on either side of you. To your left was Papa's study. Manon's favorite room in the entire house because it was essentially one huge floor-to-ceiling library. Manon spent the majority of her younger years in her Papa's study. 

Marquess Maxwell,  they called him- a title bearing through the family from centuries before him. A widower for a decade- A slender set man with salt and pepper hair. A silver fox is what most women referred to him as.

To your right was the grand parlor which sat empty most of the time, unless Papa was entertaining his guests, which rarely ever happened anymore.

From the top of the wooden staircase, Manon and Percival were greeted by their Papa's housekeeper- Ms. Saint-Claire, a stout woman in her middle fifties.

"Children, I apologize! I wasn't expecting you this early!"

"No worries, Ms. Saint-Claire! It looks like we're the first ones, as always." Manon trailed off while walking into the kitchen to make coffee for her and her other brothers that would be due any minute. While the coffee was brewing, Manon gazed out of the kitchen window to the garden that was encased in fog and lit up another cigarette. Manon realized what she was doing, and quickly opened the kitchen windows to let the smoke out. Ms. Saint-Claire would throw a fit if she caught her smoking in the house. Papa did it all the time, but he charmed his way out of it.

Manon put out her cigarette when she heard the front door open. 

"Why must we meet so early in the morning? Some of us enjoy our sleep you know." A flat voice spoke from the foyer. 

"Oliver" Manon muttered under her breath. She could detect her third eldest brother's distinct voice from miles away. 

"Some of us have classes to attend," Manon replied entering the foyer to greet her brother.

"Lux et Veritas!" Oliver shouted mockingly. "Another Maxwell graduating from Yale, doing us proud!" Following an obnoxious kiss planted on Manon's cheek.

"Don't forget about Alistair! He'll be another graduate. I hope.." Manon said letting her voice fade while wiping the kiss off her cheek.

Alistair was the youngest of her brothers- they were only two years apart. 

"Speaking of the devil! How are you, old chaps?!" Oliver shouted as Alistair, Francis and Etienne walked into Maxwell Manor together.

"You know, for liking your 'sleep' you sure do know how to wake a crowd." Manon snarled rolling her eyes.

"I have to agree with Manon!" Francis replied giving her a pat on the back. Frances was Manon's second oldest brother, and of course another Yale Alumni graduate. Alistair, Frances, and Etienne proceeded to exchange greetings with their siblings.

"Why didn't y..y..you wake me?" Alistair stuttered to Manon.

 Manon and Alistair shared an apartment gifted to them by their father on High Street close to campus.

"I couldn't quiet my mind enough to fall back asleep, so I opted for an early morning stroll," Manon answered discreetly hanging up Alistair's coat, then proceeded to follow the rest of her brothers into the kitchen. 

Manon leaned against the countertop, coffee in hand, and quietly observed her brothers sitting around the kitchen table. 'If Mama could only see this..' She thought to herself.

 Manon's Mama died when she was just ten years old. Marchioness Maxwell was the glue of their family and knew how to keep five boys and one girl in line at all times. They didn't dare go against Mama Maxwell.