Fafnir heard the steps of a man going down the stairs. Taking advantage of the situation, he jumped off the roof onto the terrace nimbly. He took a look inside the small room where Platt lived and saw a small bed in the center and a long desk in the corner. There were a variety of tiny bottles which had dried herbs. Fafnir was sure that Platt was into making concoctions of psychedelic drugs and sold them.
Fafnir was thanking his stars for coating himself with a strong scent of some herbs he found in the palace's kitchen. He blended well in the surroundings. As soon as he heard the door opening, he hid in the shadows.
"What took you so long?" Nora scolded Platt, irritated, as she climbed up the stairs. "There is a dinner going on at the palace and I have to be there as soon as possible. Have you readied what I asked you?"
"I have, Nora," Platt said, his voice drawling. "You are always in a hurry." He slapped her butts.
