[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 mont. His breathing was absurdly loud, and his eyes kept flicking from the walls of canvas to 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 !"
"Why?" My voice ca out slow, cool, deliberate. "Because we're married now, huh?"
…That again. I felt heat prickle behind my eyes — not embarrassnt, not exactly. Frustration. He had declared us married without my consent, and as if that wasn't enough, he'd also claid I was pregnant. The audacity…
He scrambled back, waving his hands. "I—I didn't have any other excuse at the ti! And you didn't seem to have one either!"
My gaze narrowed to slits. I tilted my head just slightly — the way a predator might asure the speed of its prey. "And why," I asked, stepping forward just enough to make him retreat again, "did you need an excuse? It's just chores."
His reply ca in a rush, almost theatrical. "How can I allow the supre empress to do nial tasks such as—washing soldiers' clothes! Cleaning the dishes! Scrubbing tents!"
I felt the hard edge in my posture loosen without aning to. …Washing clothes. Cleaning dishes. I'd never done those things. And actually the excuse he used….. It should have sounded insulting, deaning. Yet it… didn't bother as much as I thought it would. In fact—huh? It doesn't?
He jabbed a finger at . "But we wouldn't be in this ss if it wasn't for you!"
I arched a brow. "Because of ?"
"Yes! Why hide your strength? If you hadn't, we wouldn't even be here right now!"
I broke eye contact. It was small — just a tilt of my head, my shoulders lowering a fraction — but I didn't want him to see my face when I said it. "…I didn't hide my strength."
"That's right, you didn't—" he started, then froze, realising hitting. "You… didn't. Did Sir Rolph lie then? But why would he—"
"I don't…" I let out a slow breath, the kind that cools a blade after a fight. "I don't really have any strength now."
"…You're joking, right?"
"Do you think forcibly traveling with you through a space-ti tunnel doesn't have repercussions? You are the one with the affinity for space and ti, not ."
It took a mont for the words to land. Then—
"Ohhh… SHIT." His whole fra sagged under the weight of understanding.
I almost looked away. The truth brought a twist of guilt to my stomach — guilt because I had known the risks, and yet here I was, dragging him into my fate. "Yeah. I know. And now… it puts both of us in danger."
But he didn't even hear the last part. He was already kneeling by his pack, rummaging through it with quick, urgent movents, tossing aside supplies until his hand closed around a small glass vial. The mont he held it, his whole deanor shifted — the panic was gone, replaced by a sharp, almost commanding focus.
"Sit. Sit, sit, sit," he said, pointing firmly at a crate in the corner. "You don't have any powers now, which ans the injuries you got before we ca here must be killing you. Take this — apply it on your wounds."
For a heartbeat, I just stared. The firmness in his voice, the weight in his eyes… it was the first ti in a long while soone had cared for without duty or politics behind it. Guilt tangled with sothing warr, softer. It caught completely off guard. "…Aren't you worried about being killed by devil cultists? Or… soldiers?"
He froze mid-step. The determination cracked.
"…Holy—SHIT!" He clutched his head, pacing tight, fast circles.
Outside this cramped tent, the world was waiting — enemies, chaos, death. And yet, for that one mont, before his panic ca roaring back, Luca's first instinct had been… .
It was foolish. Reckless. Dangerous.
…And I couldn't help the faint flicker of happiness it left behind.
I sat on the low cot, back straight, chin lifted. Even with bruises under my clothes, I would not slouch. But the faint heat on my cheeks was harder to hide. It wasn't from pain—it was from the ridiculous sight in front of . Luca, of all people, kneeling at my feet with a vial in hand, fussing over my arm as if I were so fragile porcelain doll.
"I–I can do it myself," I murmured, keeping my tone imperial, though it lacked its usual bite.
He sighed like I'd just suggested sothing absurd. "Can you really?" His eyes flicked up to mine. "I saw how you did it earlier. Have you ever applied a potion on yourself in your life?"
I said nothing. My pride would not let admit the answer, but my silence gave away. He didn't wait—he just continued, his touch steady, the cool liquid trailing over my skin.
"Why waste this potion on these wounds?" I asked, softer now. "It's rare. Where did you get it?"
His hand stilled for a mont. I saw sothing pass in his eyes—so mory that didn't belong here—before he forced a faint smile. "It was given to by a friend. And anyway… it's being used by the Empress herself, so it's worth it."
My lips tightened, but not in displeasure. I reached forward, brushing his fingers as I took the vial from him. "It's supposed to be drunk," Then I dipped my fingers into the potion and pressed it against a cut on his cheek.
He stiffened instantly. "D–don't waste it on . I have my powers. I can live with it."
"Hmph." My voice was firm, but my hand didn't stop. "You might have to fight in the war. Anything can happen. Even a small wound can be fatal." It was the kind of lecture I'd give a soldier—except this ti, there was more care than command in it.
I asked, "What will we do now, since I have no powers?"
"We'll see," he said with a sigh. "First, I'll fight in the war and search for clues about the devil emperor on the battlefield. You should look for anything suspicious here in camp."
Our eyes held for a heartbeat too long. It was neither comfortable nor unpleasant—just… strange. Like standing too close to a fire when you don't want to admit you like the warmth.
A sharp knock on the tent pole broke it. A soldier stepped in. "You're part of the 56th cavalry. Commander wants us on the training ground."
"I'll be back," Luca told , glancing over his shoulder before stepping out into the night.
I remained still, the vial warm in my palm. The tent was quiet again, but the faint trace of that shared mont lingered, stubborn as a spark refusing to go out.
While Luca was away, I busied myself with the strategies on how to find the clues, but my mind kept circling back to the mont before.
When he returned, I asked without thinking seeing his battered appearance "What's with you? Has the war already started?"
The answer was in his eyes before he spoke — tension, unease. As he described the soldiers' desperation, the clinging-to-life look in their faces, I felt a cold weight settle in my chest. We weren't ready. Not for what was coming. And if we didn't prepare now, there would be no survival — only destruction.
"C–can you bring out the baby dragon?" I said suddenly.
He hesitated, worrying for her safety, but I already knew my answer. "Don't worry. I have an artifact to conceal her — and I still have my Vermillion Phoenix."
When the small girl appeared, leaping into my arms with a soft "Mama," the frost inside cracked. I held her close, the scent of her hair unfamiliar yet comforting, fastening the silver necklace that wrapped her in invisibility.
In that mont, I wasn't just an Empress. I was… sothing softer. But only for her.
As Luca asked about the vermilion phoenix, I just replied I broke into the mountain and ford the contract, I am of course that powerful, and.....I am obviously not over 50, Hmph.
I was quite exhausted, as I didn't have my powers at the mont, the exhaustion of the whole day washed over as I said it to him, he nodded as he sat in the corner and I tried to sleep a bit.
After a few hours...
Huh? What's the noise? and where is Luca?
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