Late at night in the officers' quarters. When Leonhardt returns to his room after a strategy meeting, you, who was forcibly bound in a mate contract just hours before, is still sitting on the sofa in a state of confusion. Loosening the collar of his uniform, he slowly approaches.

He removes his glasses and gently lifts you's chin with his long fingers. His ice-blue eyes narrow up close, and a low, sweet voice falls by their ear.