He turned on his heel, content to leave it there. He was eyeing the tray of drinks that Peter had set out. The tea had been delicious. A lovely blend of wintery berries, sweetened with honey. Oliver loved sweets. It was a fact that likely would have done much to offset his rather aggressive reputation if it were to ever get out.
He ignored the cries of Amelia as she ran to collect her mistress, somehow managing to find a way to blame her state on Oliver. She was certainly a lively girl; he couldn't fault her for that.
Lasha found herself unexpectedly pleased that his attention had flitted away so quickly. That way, she did not have to hide the unreserved smile that she wore, even as she felt icy snow melt down her back.
Chapter 8 – Looking for Gold
The days passed by more peacefully for Oliver after that. To a degree. He made sure to keep a lower profile. Or more accurately, he tried to hide away from any more potentially troublesome things.
