"Clara!" called Grandfather Droselmyer as he entered the foyer. "You have a letter."

"A letter?" Clara was confused – no one had ever written her before. As she took the letter, she glanced at the sender's name, and a jolt of surprise ran through her. "It's from Eric!"

"Humph! Eric!" harrumphed her grandfather. "That boy is far too..."

Clara paid him no mind. Heading to her room, she sat down on the bed and opened the letter. Unfolding it carefully, she began to read.

My dearest Clara,

How have you been? Parthenia has been recovering well. The people have begun to

accept me as their king, and things are rapidly returning to normal. The spells cast up-

on the Mouse King's army have dissipated, and the last of them have returned to their

normal size.

Today, I went back to the gingerbread village we saw before. I was filled with awe at

the sight – rather than each family working on their own house, everyone in the village

was hard at work together, rebuilding one house at a time. Even the children we came

across, Mara and Ethan, were hard at work gathering ingredients and mixing up colossal

vats of gingerbread dough for the walls. I worked among them, helping to chop up logs

and feed the fire – something that once held a very different meaning for me.

The last effects of the Mouse King's reign are quickly fading, but without you here, by

my side, I fear that for me, Parthenia will always be the desolate place it was then, even

now. I miss you with every breath that I take.

Forever yours,

Eric

With a sigh of longing, Clara pressed the letter to her heart. Then she went to her desk and, after very carefully laying the letter down on the side, drew out a pen and a piece of paper and began to write back.

Dearest Eric,

I am glad to hear that you are well. As I read this letter, my heart aches with longing to

be at your side once more. I only wish I could be there to see the repairing of the village,

to work alongside of you. I miss you with every beat of my heart, down to my very soul.

Unfortunately, I lack news of my own to send you. Grandfather Drosselmeier is still the

same as ever, as is Tommy. Aunt Elizabeth is out on her adventures again, and I doubt I

will see her again for a year, though I wish she were here now.

I still wear your locket every day. It is the only way I have to hold on to a piece of my

Nutcracker.

With love,

Clara