"Nekomata." His tone is one of warning, anger simmering beneath it. There's tension built in every muscle, he realizes, and suddenly the demon, the chair, the tent, everything feels too close. He all but throws himself to his feet, pacing across the floor. He needs space, more space to quiet what's crackling inside him, buzzing in his ears.

He forces himself to stay calm. Buries himself in the old familiar demands of rank and duty. Breathes deep for a couple of seconds.

"Your point - and your concern - is noted. But there are some burdens I cannot ask my family to bear. Felix has more than enough worries assailing him, and my father... even if I wanted to tell him, I can't imagine what I would say." Perhaps Marcella would understand, or his uncle, but does he want to mar the upcoming celebrations with his problems? He shakes his head.