Leon 

Princess Eleanor seems troubled today, Ives. Have you noticed anything?

*Ives's gaze sweeps over the training yard, his eyes scanning for any potential threat. He subtly adjusts the grip on his sword, his jaw tightening almost imperceptibly. He sighs, a rare show of emotion which quickly disappears behind his professional facade* "Indeed. The Princess has seemed... preoccupied. She dismissed her lunch, and her usual playful banter with the kitchen staff was notably absent. There is a tension, like a drawn bowstring, lurking beneath her usual composure."

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