You hadn't seen much of the Duke after your initial meeting over tea, until the two of you had dinner together. He'd been busy with work he'd been unable to do during the campaign along the border, and according to Koala it would take him a couple days to get caught up, even with help from Hack.

Early next morning you were at the training grounds, warming up when Sabo came out to join you. The estate guards were lined up around the training grounds, at ease and talking amongst themselves while they waited. Word had gone through the entire estate like wildfire, and you were certain there were quite a few servants watching as closely as they dared.

Over dinner you'd both talked about certain limitations to the spar, and agreed on wooden swords, and no magic. It wasn't that you couldn't use it, it was that you'd never been allowed the chance to meld your magic and your sword play together. The kind of magic needed for it was advanced, and that level of magic left evidence that you couldn't risk. You didn't believe your Uncle was himself checking to see what magic residue was in your room, nor was he requesting someone else check.

But the risk was beyond what you were willing to take, and practicing your forms alone was enough to appease your own desires.

That conversation at dinner is probably how the entire estate knew by morning. Not that you could blame anyone, if you were a maid in a household and heard the Lord and his new fiance talking about crossing swords, you wouldn't be able to keep your mouth shut either.

Sabo yawns mightily as he stands across from you, and gives you a smile as Hack and Koala sit down nearby. "Koala thinks you might break my nose, since I didn't get much sleep last night, but I promise if you do I'll accept it as my own fault." His smile is bright, despite the weariness in his eyes.

He appeared to be in the same clothes he had on yesterday, having shed the dress coat, in nothing but loose long-sleeved shirt and a vest. The pants and the boots were the same, but there was no ruffled tie around his neck, and no pocket watch chain at his belt. He might have prioritized his work, but he wasn't being dismissive of the spar by any stretch.

"That's reassuring to hear, your grace." You say, stepping into your opening stance.

The sword style your father favored, the one that he taught all the northern border knights, was more fluid than other styles of the continent. It was developed for the beasts of the wild, but it was just as effective against human opponents. The differences in shifting from one form to another could be disorienting, and when paired with magic created a larger effect than should be possible.

To you, that was what made it beautiful, and while there was no magic dancing around your blade you'd always been able to envision it. You were looking forward to requesting the right to begin training it properly from Sabo. Win or lose, your current impression of him is that he wouldn't deny you.

The stances for the forms were also a little wider than was common, and the actions were less like stone and more like water. The sharp clipped movements of most knights were efficient and effective, but the fluid transition of your style wasted less energy, maintaining movement and momentum from one step to the next. It was harder to learn, and harder to master, so it wasn't ideal for large groups to learn.

"Are you requesting I go easy on you?" You question as he moves into position himself.

A smile slips across his lips. "Not at all, my lady."

You dash toward him, watching as his eyes widened a little, his wooden sword coming up to meet yours almost a split second too late. The parry was at an awkward angle for him, but he was heavier than you and shifting his weight was enough to give him a chance to push your sword away and give himself a little space. The flurry you unleashed after that was knocked aside a little more easily than the first strike and you smiled.

"You're much faster than I expected, Lady Lulusia." He admits.

"You're a little slower than I expected, my lord." You reply with a devious grin.

Sabo's smile twitches a bit. "It wouldn't do to disappoint you," he says, a soft growl prowling at the corners of his tone as he seems to wake up before your eyes. His completely defensive actions shift and he begins to test for openings in your moves to push you back.

"I wouldn't be disappointed," you clarify, focusing more of your movements on trying to keep him off-balance at least a little. The wooden swords are well-crafted, but you didn't want to test if the Duke's strength was enough to break one when you needed it to block a strike. "Though I could offer to instruct you-."

You clip the tip of his sword, knocking it away by snapping the upward arc of your follow through to break his momentum, and then using the tip of your sword to keep his pushed wide as you stepped in close. Almost nose to nose you watch as blues eyes, wide with shock, look away from his sword into your smiling eyes. Instead of landing a blow you stepped away as quickly as you'd stepped in, putting space between the two of you as he brought his sword back in. "-alongside your guards?"

Sabo steps back from you, putting a more comfortable space between the two of you. His eyes flick from the tip of his sword to you, keeping you in sight while trying to discern how you knocked his weapon so wide.

"How'd you do that?" He questions, body tense and more on guard than he was a moment ago.

"Leverage." You answer casually, stepping lightly and shifting your lead foot before stepping in again. You double stepped again just before crossing swords, putting your dominate foot ahead again to cross the blow from Sabo.

You shifted lower and slid your blade against his, repeating the move from earlier, but instead of knocking his sword wide, he twisted it and broke the connection between the two. You moved through the release, not letting it put you off-balance, and brought your arm up into his elbow as you moved under his shoulder.

Ducked down as you were you let yourself tumble forward, somersaulting against the ground before coming back up to your feet. It gave you enough space to avoid being struck in the back as you cleared the reach of his weapon before turning back to face him.

"So this is how that style works." He muses, pivoting to face you again. "The precision of the strikes must make it difficult to master."

You nod. "Most of the people my father taught knew at least one other style. He always said any sword was good enough if it could fell a beast and protect a knight."

"Why such a difficult style then?"

"Two reasons, but -." You dash in again and aren't surprised to see Sabo's handling your strikes much better now that he's seen them. "I can't demonstrate the main reason."

Sabo manages to adjust to the angle of your strikes, and the swords lock for a second before he moves to shove you back. Once you feel him lean in you drop your stance again, using your lower center of gravity to bring him forward. His foot shifts ahead of him and you feel the wood of his sword press against your back as yours presses into his chest.

"I'll have to practice more." You say, trying to ignore just how close the young Duke is right now. The two of you part slowly, the shape of his amused smile lingering in the back of your head.

"The primary reason is that causes a kind of magical feedback, right?" Sabo questions and you nod. "Secondary to that it seems like a style that is meant to give better odds to a singular fighter versus multiple enemies. I imagine when coupled with magic it's quite terrifying."

"I'm surprised, usually people think the secondary part is giving an advantage to a smaller fighter. Since most beasts in the wilds are larger than a single human." You say stepping back a couple paces.

"Height between humans wouldn't vary enough." Sabo shrugs. "The stance already starts a little wider than most, and drops lower with ease, so it's a core part of the style to be sure your center of gravity is lower than your opponents, but the fluid style also allows you to steal your opponent's momentum. The end result in both cases, is someone who is skilled at staying within the striking range of their opponent regardless of size.

"If you can't outrun what you're fighting, being able to fight right against a singular opponent forces the others to stay back and wait. Even beasts won't lash out against their own." He agrees. "It loses some value in a one on one fight, but it's so unconventional compared to most other styles that it makes up for that loss easily."

You just smile through his evaluation.

"Ahhh, you had me when you come in after knocking my sword aside." He sighs, admitting defeat from the earlier maneuver where you pointedly avoided striking him. "How embarrassing."

"Best two of three, your grace?" You offer and Sabo laughs.

"It would be my pleasure," he says, dashing toward you this time without giving you a chance to begin things.

The Duke's style was more dependent on his magic, but his skill wasn't lacking by any means. A quick study and a man tested in far more combat than you were, his blows came in efficient and heavy. You could feel the strikes rattle all the way up your arm even as you turned them aside.

Whether he was finally awake and warmed up, or if he'd stopped holding back out of concern, didn't matter to you. Getting to see more of his skill was as interesting to you as his getting to see your style was interesting to him. You understood now that the estate guards weren't necessarily lacking. They were border guards in training whose skills hadn't developed enough for a campaign. Their style was identical to Sabo's, but far less practiced and controlled.

There was less being said this round, but more being learned as the two of you took in all the small details of one another. The line of sweat that made his hair stick to his face, the sharp line of his jaw, the tension of his swing that started practically in his neck, and slid down his arm. The repetition of skill that was drilled into each taut muscle.

A dedication you both knew well. A clear understanding shared between you both, even if the style of your skills were different, the hours and years of effort were similar. Sabo's own experience out pacing yours simply by virtue of his position. In this particular instance, however, his skill and power were a hindrance, as he was constantly on alert not to hurt you even in the midst of the spar.

It was a testament to his skill that he'd been able to walk such a fine line this entire time, especially on so little sleep. You wanted to prolong this, to entertain all three rounds. It was fun, and challenging besides, but a third round would only keep him from work that had piled up, and that would keep him from sleeping, and you could the lack of sleep at the edges of his eyes.

And at the edges of his swings.

You stepped into the swing, blocking it and taking the full brunt of the blow. Sabo stumbled, he'd expected you to slide under the swing again and had adjusted accordingly. Instead you'd leaned into things and forced him a half step off balance, giving you enough room to smack your sword into his side, with enough force to make him grunt.

"You're a bit more ruthless than expected." He admits with a smile.

"Your considerations were appreciated." You reply with a smile. "But I couldn't pass up the opportunity to use them to my advantage."

"Alas, it seems my break from work has ended then." He looks completely crushed, with a sigh almost as dramatic as his forlorn expression.

"I promise I won't start any rumors about having bested you in a sword fight." You say with a smile, tapping your wooden sword under his chin once to get his attention.

"Oh but I will." Koala says, as her and Hack come over to the two of you. "No matter how many times I see you fight, it's always so beautiful."

"There's not much beauty in losing," Sabo huffs, nearly pouting.

"I wasn't talking about your sword style, your grace." Koala corrects, smiling tersely. The Duke sighs, hanging his head even lower in defeat. "Honestly you look like a troll with a club comparatively."

"I mean it was developed with pipes, so that's hardly surprising." Hack interjects. Your eyes widen a bit at the implication, but you decide not to ask any questions.

Despite the teasing there's no tension in the air and Sabo's smiling kindly when he straightens up and gives you a small bow.

"Defeat is never sweet," He says, looking at you and ignoring Koala. "But it was still my pleasure, Lady Lulusia, thank you for indulging me."

"Thank you for your kindness as well, your grace." You say in return, curtsying.

"Eh?" He tilts his head, feigning confusion, but you can see pink dusting his cheeks. He's been caught and he's realized the fact a second too late.

"Magic or no, you're certainly strong enough to shatter a wooden sword." You say evenly, shaking the tingle that was still in your fingers from blocking his blow so directly. Koala's eyes go wide as she looks from you to Sabo. "I appreciate your restraint."

"I may have held back my strength for the sake of the swords, my lady, but don't doubt the skill you possess." He insists. "I really meant to claim that second round as my win."

"Hmm... but not the first one?" You muse.

"Ah, haha, I... am disinclined to answer that." He says, his flustered expression taking on a more serious tone. "Excuse me, but I do have a lot of work to get done, will you be okay having breakfast by yourself?"

"Of course, your grace." You reply with a smile. You'd been eating your meals by yourself for a while, and it would be more efficient for him to eat while he worked.

"Your understanding is appreciated." He bows a little more deeply, before leaving with Hack close behind.

Koala looks over at you and smiles. There's a question on that smile she's only holding back due to etiquette, but you don't need her to ask it.

"It was nice to be challenged, thank you." You answer, handing over the practice swords to a guard before heading to your room with Koala beside you.

"Of course. We can spar tomorrow morning if you'd like."

"Oh? I didn't realize you were a swordsman, Koala."

"More of a marksman, but I have skill enough." She clarifies with a smile.

"It would be my pleasure then."

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"Reach out to the Kingdoms," Sabo instructs, sitting down at his desk, inwardly sighing at the stacks of paperwork still left to review and file.

"Your grace?" Hack is rarely confused by Sabo's requests, but he's not sure he's following this time.

"Yes, my father will not be happy when word of the engagement party reaches him. We need to inform the other kingdoms and invite them first." He clarifies. "I'll let the others know."

"The Lady is staying then?"

"Unless she requests otherwise, Hack, yes."

"Seems the spar was not a waste of time, my apologies."

"It was not. For better or worse though, it means there's much more work to do. Even if it was by father's decree, the idea that I would be wed before Sterry is going to cause a stir, but now might be the right time to use that to our advantage."

"Truly?"

"Mm, depending on a few other factors, yes. Germa has stabilized, and Dawn will see it's crowned prince made King soon. Alabasta and the Queendom will support, I'm sure. My only concern is Ilisia."

"They have Wano to consider, they won't be able to make any hasty moves."

"... True." Sabo bites his lip and then shakes his head. "The statesman is still in position?"

"Yes, Inazuma is still working well with them too."

"Good, and Karasu," Sabo starts and after a second the man in question forms seemingly from the shadows. "Keep an eye on her for her safety."

"Nothing more?" Karasu raises a brow.

"Nothing more." He asserts, not looking up from his paperwork. "You're going to be busy with Ilisia, use the energy you would have otherwise spent and just... find me some reassurance."

"I will do my best, your grace." He says, disappearing from sight again.

"A timeline, your grace."

"Thre-." Sabo pauses, setting the quill back in the ink jar and thinking. "Three months, Hack, but please speak to the Lady Lulusia. The time line considers many factors, but I would prefer her input be taken into consideration as well."

"I shall speak with her after breakfast. Which, for you, I'll go and fetch now."

"Yes, thank you." Sabo leans back in his chair after Hack leaves and closes his eyes for a moment.

The way you moved, the control of the sword. The style was certainly authentic, and your skill was no mere pretense. Three months for the engagement party, and six months for the wedding, barring any other variables. Nine months was a long time, and with your skill, it should be more than sufficient to allow you to merge magic with your sword.

Would it be enough time? And would you agree to things when the time came?

Your smile flashes across his vision, the words buzzing in his ears.

"You're a little slower than I expected, my lord."

He smiled. So long as your skill passed the threshold he had no doubt you would agree.