SWAYING

The morning sun was still gentle as Sarah glided onto the training field of Residential Hill, her steps barely making a sound on the polished stone.

The empty facility felt private, the air full of birdsong and the sweet scent of dew-kissed grass. With only a handful of clouds drifting by, the space felt just for her.

Sarah's body was a sight made for hungry eyes—her black top clung to every curve, stretching tight across her chest, her nipples faintly visible through the fabric each time a breeze swept in.

Her shorts clung to her hips, riding high and leaving her smooth, toned thighs bare and beckoning.

Already, tiny beads of sweat formed at her throat and collarbone, catching the early light, making her skin shimmer.

She gripped her wooden sword and raised it high, her arms above her head, the movement arching her back and making her breasts push forward.

As she brought the sword down, the swing was sharp but sensual—her hips rolling with each lunge, her ass tightening and relaxing, barely contained by the hem of her shorts.

Each motion seemed exaggerated, almost like an unspoken invitation, hips swaying as if she were cloaked in music instead of silence.

With every swing, her breathing deepened, chest rising and falling—hard enough now that the outline of her boobs was impossible to ignore as they strained against her tight top.

A droplet of sweat traced down between them, glistening before disappearing into the neckline.

Every so often, Sarah paused, tossing her hair over her shoulder, her gaze fierce and smoldering.

She wiped her brow with the back of her hand, sweat tracking down the side of her neck and pooling in the hollow of her collarbone.

The stretch elongated her body and gave a glimpse of her midriff—taut, damp, and inviting.

Some time passed as Sarah continued practicing, her body now warmer and sweat forming along her neck and arms. The air had become cooler, but she kept moving, her sword cutting through the air again and again.

Suddenly, the quiet space was filled with the sound of footsteps. Sarah paused for a moment and turned her head slightly. Three people had entered the facility — two nobles, a man and a woman, followed by the mansion's manager.

The man was tall, with short dark brown hair, sharp eyes, and wore a fine dark blue coat with gold buttons. His clothes alone showed his status. The woman beside him wore a long silk dress of deep green, the fabric shining slightly in the light. Her hair was styled neatly, and she held a fan in her hand, even though the weather was not hot.

As they walked in, the mansion manager smiled and respectfully introduced them, "This is Lord Cedric Alden and Lady Viola Crestfall. They have come to see the facility as new residents."

The two nobles looked around with calm eyes, examining the open space and the training dummies. But then Cedric's gaze stopped on Sarah, who was back to her sword swings.

He frowned lightly and asked the manager, "Who is that girl training there?"

The manager glanced at Sarah and replied, "She is a noble too, my lord. She came here under the company of Madam Rozie."

At the mention of Rozie, Cedric's eyes widened slightly in surprise. He exchanged a glance with Lady Viola but said nothing to her. Without waiting, Cedric then stepped forward, slowly approaching Sarah, his eyes now fixed with curiosity and interest.

Cedric stood in front of Sarah, his eyes scanning her from head to toe as she wiped sweat from her forehead.

"Quite the form you have there," Cedric said with a small grin. "Not bad for someone training alone."

Sarah glanced at him, gave a small nod, but didn't say much. She wasn't really interested, but she stayed polite.

Cedric, not liking the silence, continued, "I'm Cedric Alden. Maybe you've heard of my family. We hold influence near the central provinces. I've trained with the royal guards themselves. And of course, I'm familiar with Madam Rozie — we've crossed paths at noble gatherings more than once."

Sarah raised an eyebrow but simply replied, "Oh… is that so?" Her tone was flat, clearly unimpressed.

Cedric chuckled awkwardly, expecting more of a reaction. "Indeed. In fact, I'd say I'm one of the more skilled swordsmen in my circles. Perhaps, if you'd like, we could have dinner sometime? I could share some techniques... and a pleasant evening."

Sarah tightened the cloth around her sword handle and shook her head with a faint smile. "No thanks. I prefer training alone."

She turned around without waiting for his reply, picked up her small towel, and walked straight out of the facility.

Cedric stood there frozen, his pride pricked sharply. Lady Viola behind him let out a quiet chuckle, but he clenched his fists, his face darkening with irritation.

"Just a low noble… acting high and mighty," he muttered under his breath, his mood ruined.