Two hours later.
The door creaked open with a soft knock. A pair of light footsteps entered the room.
"Young Master Leon, breakfast is ready," came Mary's voice, calm and practiced—though this time, there was no trace of suprise she would have carried when finding him asleep past dawn.
News traveled fast in the mansion of Leon's win against Dayton Feran so she no longer thought that he had given up on his training but instead she assumed that he had been secretly training.
'I shouldn't have doubted him. A stupid ranking won't be enough to make him give up.'
Leon blinked awake slowly, sunlight filtering through the curtains. As he sat up, squinting at her and interrupting her thoughts.
Then, that lazy, half-cocky grin spread across his face.
"Thanks, Mary. You're always so helpful."
His voice was low, smooth—still wrapped in morning haze.
Mary stiffened slightly, trying to keep her composure, but the light dusting of pink rising on her cheeks betrayed her.
