Fabian let out a sigh. "Very well," he relented. "You are free to go hunting for the scent as you wish, Milord, but please understand that I won't come running when you call."
Azrael let out a chuckle. "Come now, Fabian," he urged. "It won't take long."
"The manor does not belong to us, Milord, and the Duke's guests are not ours to investigate. I suggest we stay put." Fabian protested.
"You're just lazy."
"Yes."
Azrael was silent for a moment before he let out a resigned sigh. "Fine, but the next time I catch this scent, you and I are going after it."
"Why not?" His aide reluctantly agreed, holding one of the doors open for him. "But for now, I believe we should rest in proper beds."
Azrael huffed and walked past him into the room, but before Fabian could follow, his eyes wandered to an antique cupboard a few paces down the hall, where he spotted a pair of bright blue eyes staring back at him.
