"Your Highness, Lady Saenn? Are you awake?" a red haired boy barely older than 15 came in the door. He looked cheekily at the girl in front of him and blew a few fringes off his face.
“You know that I don't want to be called that, least of all of you Midori.” Saenna sat cross-legged on her bed and looked at him with that slightly annoyed expression on her face that she always put on when someone spoke to her with her full title .
"Sorry," he winked at her, his smile growing wider and making him look very chubby.
"The King, Lord Blaitmoore has sent for you. Something about important visitors and such. Of course, his model princess must not be missing." He rolled his eyes theatrically.
"Oh, stop spinning", shaking her head, she jumped out of bed, went to her closet, hastily threw out a few things and then turned to Midori.
"Um ... I want to change now so could you please ...?"“Yeah, of course I'm going away.” Still grinning broadly, he turned around and closed the door behind him. In the hallway he looked around for a moment, then decided to take the left turn, back to his own little room.
The hallways were terribly long, cold and very drafty. He walked a little faster, rubbing his trembling hands as he did so. A crowd blocked his way, he had to turn around and look for another. Fortunately, he knew his way around the castle well. Actually extremely good. Better than almost everyone else.
His room was in the third corridor, north, on the second floor in section B. The castle was divided into several sections. A-H, where in section A-C the most important personalities, messengers and of course their venerable head Lord Blaitmoore lived, D-F were occupied by the TiMi and G-H were visited by aspirants. In addition, in each of these sections there was a sickroom, a canteen and an armory with an adjoining exercise area, both inside and outside.While he unlocked the door to his room, took off his shoes, picked up a manga and fell on the bed, Saenna was sitting at the richly laid table in the dining room. It was one of those tables that could seat almost 100 people although that much space was never needed because normally only a maximum of 5 people dined here. She sat in the center of the table, Lord Blaitmoore to her right, and Aaron, royal adviser and treasurer, to her left. Across the street, Deneuve, representative of the dwarves, was standing up.
"So we're not going to the Blaitmoore store?" his hoarse voice, which was common for dwarves, echoed in the great hall.
"Apparently not," he said, unmoved, and got up too. The two shook hands and Deneuve walked over to the door. Halfway through, he turned around again.
"You will still hear from me" with that he went out for good.
Blaitmoore sighed and braced himself with both hands on the table."The guy makes me sick. This negotiation has been going on for almost a year now and he just keeps asking. What is he actually imagining? As if we had enough troops to march into the trolls. Even with the army of dwarves and the support of the Western demons won't do anything. What is he thinking ... "
"Don't worry," Saenna smiled encouragingly, "he'll come to his senses". Blaitmoore just nodded, turned around and left the room with the words, "I'm going back to bed". She looked at Aaron, who just shrugged his shoulders and followed him out. Saenna looked after them but when he closed the door behind him, she was still standing in the middle of the room, unsure where to go.

"Orrick!" a blue-haired boy came towards a clearing. He looked at an old oak tree and cocked his head when he saw the blond one sitting in the top of the tree as always.
"What?" annoyed, he looked down at him.
"Did you oversleep again?I don't feel like looking for you all the time just because you don't feel like coming to class. Your students are getting really mad. "
"So what?" Orrick leaned against the solid trunk, "let them wait. Just tell them something. Tell them patience is part of sword fighting." He yawned loudly.
"Forget it! Come on down at last"
The addressed just shrugged his shoulders. It was quiet for a while, then something shot at Orrick, sat on his shoulder and started pecking at his face with its hard beak. When he hit the animal, it dodged with a laugh, flew onto his head and worked his forehead.
“Yeah, yeah, it's good.” He shook his head angrily. “Finally call that thing back!” Alvar grinned and whistled loudly. The bird let off Orrick, came back, and sat on his master's shoulder.
"You demon types don't understand joke either, do you ?!" with these words he swung himself on a branch and landed right in front of Alvar's feet."See you" he raised his hand briefly in parting and ran back.

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I am terribly sorry this chapter took so long. The next one will be different, I promise.
As always, I would appreciate nice clerks.
HEAGDL, sweety