Click.
The door creaked open.
Clint stirred in bed, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand. "Who the—" he sat up, blinking drowsily and a little annoyed. But his eyes widened the moment he saw the figure at the doorway.
"M-Mam Irna!"
Too late.
"Lazy, are we?" Irna's voice was sharp for this early in the morning.
She marched straight to him, grabbed him by the ear, and pulled.
"Ow! Ow, ow, ow! Wait! I just woke up!" Clint cried, scrambling to follow as she dragged him out of his room.
"You locked your door, didn't answer when called, and it's already way past sunrise!" Irna scolded as she tugged his ear. "How long were you planning to sleep, child?"
"I haven't even eaten yet!" Clint protested, pouting as he crossed his arms, being dragged like a sack of flour down the hallway.
His complaints only made the hallway livelier. Several servants stopped to watch the scene some stifling their laughs, others not bothering to hide it.
