[Celestia's - POV, in the tent hours before]
The tent was small to begin with, but Luca's frantic pacing made it feel suffocating. He darted left and right like a cornered rabbit, his hands raised as though I might strike him at any moment. His breathing was absurdly loud, and his eyes kept flicking from the walls of canvas to me as if calculating escape routes.
I didn't move. I didn't need to. Standing tall, chin lifted, one hand on my hip, the other hanging loose at my side — I could feel the tension in my own fingers, an itch to just grab him by the collar and make him stop this ridiculous dance.
Then he blurted it.
"No, no, Your Majesty! You can't hit me!"
"Why?" My voice came out slow, cool, deliberate. "Because we're married now, huh?"
…That again. I felt heat prickle behind my eyes — not embarrassment, not exactly. Frustration. He had declared us married without my consent, and as if that wasn't enough, he'd also claimed I was pregnant. The audacity…
