Azrael stretched lazily on his modest bed with his eyes fixed to the ceiling while Fabian scurried around the room, gathering every available item that lay about.
He sighed. "Is all of this really necessary, Fabian?" he asked. "We don't need everything you're collecting."
His aide huffed as he crammed some papers into a brown envelope. "Yes, we do," he stated flatly. "These are your documents, and they hold as much importance as you do, Milord."
"I doubt that."
Fabian clicked his tongue. "The day you start taking things seriously will be the day I stop making complaints."
Azrael chuckled dryly. "Then I suppose that day will never come," he remarked as he sat up on the bed. "I might as well brace myself."
Fabian shook his head and continued to work in silence for a few more minutes.
"You said that we would be heading to the capital of Wynford tomorrow," he interjected suddenly. "Did you truly mean it?"
Azrael regarded him with a raised brow. "Do you doubt my words?"
