The First of Many - Part 1

Whenever it was complained about, Oliver would shrug, and say that he needed his sleep. In the Academy, he'd been able to make do with his bed, as small and simple as it was, but with all the lavishness that he was now surrounded with – even if, by a true noble standards, it all seemed rather poor – he found himself in need of a simplicity of the highest sort. If he'd been able to do it entirely his way, he would have slept in the mountains once more, like he'd been known to.

Now, with his letters attended to, and the affairs of the day organized in his head, Oliver stifled a yawn, and tossed two more logs on the fire.

"Autumn is here well and truly," Oliver muttered, feeling the chill in the air from the open window. "Will any of this be solved, before winter is set in?"