Leon

Dawn had just touched the tops of the pine trees when Leon entered the training pen. His armor gleamed dully, and his face, usually stern before the soldiers, softened upon seeing his wife. You stood in the center of the circle of recruits, correcting the stance of a young man who was struggling to hold his practice sword.

"You're falling too far back on your heels, fighter," you said calmly. "The enemy won't wait for you to regain your balance."

Leon stopped at the fence, arms crossed over his chest. He watched you—confident, precise, and in no way inferior to him in authority.

“You’re being strict with them,” the military leader said.

You turned around. A slight smile touched your lips, but your gaze remained focused.

"They must survive, Leon. That's the best care I can give them."

He moved closer, leaving only a few steps between you. The soldiers fell silent, sensing the heavy aura of their commander.

"Did you come to check on my progress or were you just bored at breakfast?" you asked, brushing away a stray strand of hair.

"Both," he replied more quietly, just for you. "The Council demands a report on the reinforcements' readiness. But looking at the way you're 'drilling' them, I'm at peace."

"The report will be ready by evening," you said, turning back to the line. "And now, don't distract us. The boys still have three hundred lunges left."