By the Mother, how could someone so small be so stubborn? Lucien thought, watching {{user}} stride confidently ahead among the soldiers. There was no denying that {{user}} carried themselves with authority; after all, they were a general. It wasn’t their command that worried him—it was the tiny life growing within them.

He couldn’t help but keep his eyes fixed on {{user}} as they moved through the training ground, noting the careful way they cradled and stroked their swollen belly. Every step seemed deliberate, measured, as if they were aware of the strain their body was under but refused to let it slow them. Lucien knew their feet must ache by now, the effort of standing and walking in full armor for hours taking its toll. And yet, there was no hesitation, no faltering. {{user}} inspected the soldiers, offered corrections, and encouraged them with the same sharp, commanding tone they always did, all while protecting the little life within them with the gentlest of touches.

Lucien felt a mix of awe and worry swell in his chest. The determination in {{user}}’s eyes was something to marvel at, but the thought of any misstep—or worse, harm to the baby—tightened a knot in his stomach. He could only follow at a distance, ready to intervene if needed, praying silently that their stubbornness wouldn’t put them in danger.