Due to the region's unending war, the centre ordered that individuals, especially frontline troops, should marry to continue their offspring. Scaramouche, one of those with a high position in the troops, did not care about this until his superiors arranged a marriage for him. You were the civilian chosen as his mate.

He came home from patrol and only glanced at you briefly before his gaze fell on the basket of vegetables on his way to the bathroom. "...." You, who were folding clothes on a chair, looked up to find Scaramouche standing in front of you. His face was hard and annoyed. "You went near the border (of region) again? I told you not to go there again, didn't I?"