Alright. You may start.”

  “Sir Leon?” Eric shifted.

  “What?”

  “Why am I tied up?”

  He shifted again, the ropes scuffing his hands, the blindfold making his head itch, and his kneeling position restricting his movement even more.

  “It’s part of your new training.” Leon touched his red cheek lightly and flinched. “Let’s call it… endurance training.”

  “What?” He started to stand up.

  “Enough. No more talking.” Leon kicked the back of Eric’s knees, forcing him down again. He then pulled out another cloth.

  “Hey wai—hgnrh!”

  “Now that that is out of the way. Miss Soliana. I want you to imagine Eric here as nothing more than a training dummy. Can you do that?”

  Soliana nodded.

  She looked at the tied-up Eric across the courtyard, her grip holding the wooden sword firmly, the sun hitting her straight in the eyes.

  She looked at him as a pole. A beam. Like a lifeless object to think about.

  “Good. Now try swinging at him.”

  “hdhghh!”

  Soliana stepped forward, her eyes still focused on him. When the distance between them shortened to a few inches, she readied her sword.

  She held it in the air, casting a narrow shadow down Eric’s blindfold.

  One second. Two seconds. A bird chirped somewhere in the courtyard. Three. The sun stayed hot at her neck.

  “Well?”

  Soliana didn’t turn her head. Her eyes remained fixed on Eric. Her chest rose and fell in a quick, shallow rhythm before she held her breath once, then released the tension in her shoulders and lowered her sword until it tapped the pavement.

  “I can’t.”

  Leon frowned.

  “Why not?”

  “…I can’t imagine him as an object. I can’t.”

  Leon nodded slowly.

  “Very good. Don’t.”

  “What?”

  Leon took off Eric’s blindfold, his gag, and his restraints, holding out a hand which Eric took to get up.

  “The first lesson of efficiency is not to skip steps, especially in training.”

  He walked to the side, where another wooden sword lay in the grass, and threw it at Eric.

  “It’s easy to imagine a person as an enemy. It’s easy to rationalize them as nothing more than nameless soldiers in your way.”

  Eric missed the throw as it hit the ground with a thud.

  “But that’s not always the case, isn’t it?”

  Leon walked to another wooden sword and picked it up for himself.

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  “Whether you fight undead or other people, you would have to remember this.”

  “Hesitation kills.”

  He swung the sword down several times, then held it out and observed it.

  “It is important for you to be aware that who you fight in battle is not a nobody. Never a nobody. They always have a life, a name, an identity.”

  Soliana and even Eric nodded.

  “But.”

  He suddenly rushed at Eric, his sword traveling down at incredible speed.

  Eric’s eyes widened. His movements turned automatic as he held his sword in front of him.

  The clash of two wooden swords echoed. Eric was pushed back a few steps, but he remained steadfast.

  Leon nodded and stopped.

  “Good. I see you remember.” He nodded, then turned to Soliana. “Much like both our actions. Whether you attack or defend, you must not hesitate. Even if you know them. Even if you trust them. That is the efficiency of combat. Understand?”

  Soliana stood in place. It took her a few seconds before she nodded. Her hands clenched, then unclenched.

  “Yes.”

  “Good. Now both of you. Spar with each other for now.”

  Eric glanced at their instructor. Leon met his gaze and sighed.

  “I’m well aware you have no combat experience, Soliana, so Eric will—”

  “No.”

  Soliana closed her eyes, then opened them. She gripped her sword tightly, preparing her stance. Looking at Eric’s shoulder. His feet. His weapon. And finally, at him.

  “Don’t hesitate.” Her voice didn’t shake. “Don’t hold back.”

  Leon’s eyes widened for an instant. Then he smirked.

  “Very well.”

  “Hey Roland.”

  “Hm? What is it?”

  “Can you explain what an engagement means again?”

  Roland’s expression changed. He leaned away from Anastasia toward the edge of the bench they both sat on. His cheeks flared and his eyes looked side to side.

  “H—haven’t I told you? It means two people being a couple.”

  He adjusted his seat, pulling away even further, and focused on Soliana and Eric’s spar. Soliana took the initiative, swinging first with a loud crack. Eric parried her blow with ease, then started applying pressure.

  Anastasia simply tilted her head.

  “Yeah. Like a friend, right? A special friend. So why are you trying to keep it a secret?”

  Roland glanced at her out of instinct, then turned his head back to the fight.

  “No. It’s…” He glanced at her again. “It’s like a family.”

  Anastasia paused. She leaned over, then leaned back.

  “Hmmm. I don’t get it.”

  Roland bit his lip. He placed his hand to the side and gripped the bench.

  “Let’s just look at their sparring. We can talk about this later. Alright?”

  Anastasia didn’t say anything. She simply shrugged her shoulders and watched with him while humming a tune with a smile. Her feet swayed back and forth merrily, hanging in the air between the bench and the floor.

  Despite the frequent clash of swords and noise, Roland couldn’t help but replay that moment from a few days ago.

  It was so sudden. So out of his expectations that he would be engaged to the princess of Reina at such a young age.

  Vividly, he remembered Leon delivering the news to both of them. He remembered being unable to say a word. And he remembered her shaking him violently for being her so-called “super friend”… or “special friend” as she called it now.

  Even after Leon thoroughly explained what it meant to her, Anastasia only nodded and then asked him the same question when Leon left.

  This had already been the fifth time she had asked.

  “Hey Roland?”

  Roland took a deep sigh.

  “Yeah?”

  “Am I annoying?”

  “…No.”

  “Okay.”

  “…”

  “…Hey Roland?”

  “What.”

  “Why does Carmi feel so different lately?”

  Roland’s focus stalled.

  “Huh? What do you mean?”

  “Well.” Anastasia’s eyes looked up. “She used to be very gentle, you know. She talked a lot too and loved to bully me. I remember she even taught me how to pick locks.”

  Anastasia glanced at him and found that he was repeatedly looking at her from top to bottom.

  “Are you sure we are talking about the same person? Carmi is Carmilla, right?”

  “Yeah.” Anastasia held her chin in her hands. “But she seems much quieter now. I mean, it had only been four years since I last saw her. What could have possibly been—”

  Suddenly, a loud yell reverberated, followed by the sound of wood falling.

  Anastasia and Roland looked over and saw Soliana clutching her hand while bent over and kneeling. Her sword lay on the ground, and Eric rushed in to apologize.

  Leon simply stood where he was.

  “Again.” He tapped his sword and waited for Soliana to get back up.

  Eric examined her and found that Soliana’s knuckles had a hint of red. She was clutching them. Even with her mouth closed, he could hear her moans of pain trying to escape.

  “Sir Leon, she hurt her hand. She—”

  “I said. Again.” His gaze didn’t break.

  “But—”

  A hand grabbed Eric’s arm.

  He turned his head and saw her use him to stand back up. Holding her sword once more, she readied her stance. Streaks of water had visibly run down her cheek, but she didn’t say another word.

  Eric opened his mouth, but when he saw her eyes, he chose to close it. He walked a few steps back and readied his sword.

  “Start!” Leon tapped his sword down, and Eric rushed once again.

  Above the courtyard, at a window overlooking their training, a woman with blue hair watched as Soliana was thrown, hit, and yelled in pain.

  She stayed silent.

  She didn’t call out. She didn’t say a single word.

  The woman simply frowned as she watched her daughter from the shadows.