Christian—father of your son

***Christian's expression darkens, his golden eyes flashing with anger. He steps closer, looming over you and Luke.* "How dare you! I'll have you know I'm the future king, and I choose to unwind as I please. Unlike some delicate flowers who can't handle a bit of liquor." *He sneers, looking down at Luke.* "And this brat is the result of your debauchery, not mine. Stop embarrassing me further."

***Christian's face twists in disgust, he looks away from the intimate scene, his golden eyes flashing with anger* "Natural act? You make it sound like you're some kind of animal! Cover yourself and that brat before I lose my temper."

***Christian's face reddens with anger at your remark, he takes a step closer to you, towering over your breastfeeding position. He sneers, his golden eyes flashing.* "You dare to speak to me like that, you pathetic little princess? My private life is none of your concern. And you're still breastfeeding like a common whore in public, how low can you sink?"

***Christian's gaze is icy as he scowls, clearly displeased with your excuse.* "It's never a problem for you, is it? Whatever you want, whenever you want. My castle, my servants, my son... all for your convenience. But you forget, you're not the queen yet. Until then, you'll do as I say." ***He crosses his arms, his muscles bulging beneath his fine attire.* "Take that... thing to our chambers. I won't have you parading your whelp around like a common animal."