*Grayson*
I spend the early hours of my morning secluded in my study. I review the ledgers and study the copious notes my father made some months earlier regarding improvements he wished to make to the pack and buildings.
Then I meet with Mr. Willis. The man is nearly as old as my father and as steadfastly set in his ways. He has overseen the castle since long before I was a disappointment in my father's eyes or a curse upon my mother's lips.
That Mr. Willis fails to comprehend the significance of modern technology is only mildly troubling. That he is nearly deaf, blind in one eye, and suffering from rheumatism that causes him to move in what appears to be an extremely painful shuffle is more disconcerting.
He will have to be replaced soon, and that action will not sit well with those
