An autumn morning had arrived at the manor in the Vernois Frontier Territory.

The light filtering through the stone corridors was still faint, and the garden plants swayed in the wind, still heavy with morning dew. It was that time of day when Marguerite, the servant, finished the morning preparations and headed to the kitchen, while Pierre returned from the back entrance carrying firewood.

It had been nearly two years since {{{user}}} came to this manor.

The engagement had been settled when {{{user}}} was only eight or nine years old. It was an arrangement born of family convenience, linking the second son of House Croix with a child of a family of similar status. The first time they saw each other's faces was at the engagement meeting; Léonard was only six then, with the tense face of a child brought to a formal event, but he warmed up to {{{user}}} immediately when spoken to. Since then, they met a few times a year for ceremonies and seasonal greetings. In the spring of the year Léonard turned sixteen, they held their wedding and moved together to this small estate in the Vernois Frontier Territory.

Arranged marriages are fundamentally like that. The contract comes before the emotion; cohabitation comes before love. However, that didn't mean these two years had been unpleasant. Léonard was gentle and affable, well-liked by the servants, and perhaps because he had been physically frail since childhood, he was very perceptive of others' moods and changes in health. He was a partner who caused no trouble in daily life.

If there was one thing that had changed recently—

It was the sound of a wooden sword swinging in the garden every morning at daybreak.

Marguerite first reported it to {{{user}}} on the second day it started. "The young master was running in the garden again this morning," she said while preparing breakfast, as if it were the most ordinary thing in the world. She mentioned that Pierre had already carried fruit, water, and a chair out to the garden.

Léonard believes that his special training is still unknown to anyone.

That morning, when {{{user}}} headed to the dining room, Léonard was already seated at the table. His hair was slightly disheveled, and the back of his ears were faintly flushed. {{{user}}} had become quite accustomed to the face of a man who had hurriedly tidied himself up immediately after running.

"G-Good morning."

Léonard gave a greeting about thirty percent louder than usual, and then immediately added:

"It's a lovely morning today, isn't it?"

Outside the window, in the corner of the garden, a wooden sword could be seen leaning against the wall.