We're jumping ahead a bit in time...

(hopefully all of this back and forth time-switching isn't giving you guys whiplash)

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"Your Majesty!"

Clara sighed as she turned, watching with amusement as Major Mint hurried up the corridor after her. Disappointment flitted across her thoughts; she had been hoping to get a little further before being discovered.

Major Mint stumbled to a stop before Clara, his face red from the effort of catching up. But he recovered with as much dignity as he could muster, tugging at his jacket to straighten it. He gave a disgruntled huff, his mustache puffing outwards as he spoke. "Does the king know where you are?" Concern knitted the major's brow. "You should not be wandering so far from your bedchamber, my queen."

Clara smiled affectionately at the man. "No, he does not, Major. He is busy. Besides, I wouldn't want to bother him with something as unimportant as the constant updates to my whereabouts."

"But to be up so soon after your cold –"

"Doctor Astros was not concerned in the least about it," said Clara calmly. "Yes, I was a little tired yesterday, but I am fine now. Walking to the kitchens is hardly something to fuss over."

The major waved his hand in a rather lost gesture. "But –"

Clara held up her hand, silencing him. "I appreciate your concern, major," she said warmly. "Truly, I do. But it is unnecessary. Though if it will ease your anxiety, you are welcome to accompany me to the kitchens."

The major brightened at the suggestion. "I shall," he said in relief.

Clara's smile, though lined with a faint weariness, widened as she looped her arm through the major's. Now that she had deterred any insistence that she return to her chambers, Clara was grateful for the company. After having lain in bed for the near-entirety of yesterday, she was glad to walk and talk with someone.

Her cold had not been a severe one. But it had sapped a great deal of her energy, and she found herself sleeping for annoyingly long segments of time over the past few days. Eric had insisted that she allow her body to receive the rest it needed, assuring her that waking after nine in the morning was nothing to be ashamed over. Clara would have found his reassurance comforting, if it hadn't been immediately followed by him boasting about finally being the earlier riser of the two of them. But it was nothing a good smack with a pillow couldn't silence.

Smirking at the memory of Eric's face following her (very much justified) pillow attack, Clara ran her hand over the swell of her stomach. Initially, she had been concerned about the effects of the cold on the baby growing inside of her. But once Doctor Astros assured her there was nothing to worry over, she cast aside her fears. Besides, after spending the past few days using what felt like every handkerchief left in Parthenia for her endlessly running nose, and drinking various combinations of Masha's tea, she was itching to be free of the stifling atmosphere of her bedchamber.

By the time the major and Clara made it to the kitchens, Clara was beginning to feel the effects of the fatigue that had plagued her yesterday. Ignoring the frantic questions of the major, who continued to hover over her worriedly, Clara settled into a chair near the cutting table Masha was standing before with a relieved sigh.

"Are you sure you're alright, Your Majesty?" asked the major. "Shall I fetch the king?"

"And tell him what?" snorted Masha. "That you drove his wife to exhaustion from your incessant chatter?" She waved at the major impatiently. "The queen is perfectly fine. But it you wish to be useful, why don't you fetch her a cup of ginger tea? I have a pot on the far right stove."

"Oh," stuttered the major. "Of course, of course." He gave Clara a bow. "I shall be only a moment." Then he turned, awkwardly winding his way around Masha's staff as he searched for the mentioned teapot.

Masha rolled her eyes and turned back to the apples she was peeling. "With nerves like his, it's a wonder the kingdom doesn't collapse whenever you and Eric leave him in charge of affairs."

Clara smiled. "He means well."

"He will drive us all mad one day," huffed Masha. But there was an undeniable affection in her tone.

Clara picked up an apple near the edge of the table, along with a knife Masha wasn't using. "Please tell me these are for apple cake."

"Of course they are. And whatever is leftover shall be used for cider." Masha flicked a piece of apple peel onto the table's surface "Though if you want to have it for your anniversary dinner, I shall have to have the staff get some more. I refuse to serve you and the king four-day-old apfelkuchen for such an occasion."

Clara laughed. "Thank you, Masha, but the menu you already have planned out is perfect."

Masha grunted in agreement.

Clara sat back in her chair and began peeling her apple. She worked with care, finding comfort in watching the outer layer of the fruit curl away beneath the knife's blade.

It was her and Eric's three-year anniversary in four days. Neither wanted it to be a large celebration, preferring the privacy of a quiet dinner between the two of them. But that had not stopped Masha from planning out an extravagant three-course dinner for the occasion.

Clara was glad Masha hadn't waited to make the apfelkuchen. Clara had given Masha the recipe years ago, which had been an original of her grandmother's. Masha had been – surprisingly – impressed with the recipe, and readily made it whenever Clara expressed even the slightest desire for it. Clara hadn't mentioned it recently, but now that Masha was making it, Clara felt an eager craving for the dessert seize her. How like Masha, to know exactly what Clara would want while recovering from a cold.

"Has the little one been moving much today?" asked Masha. She cast a glance at Clara's stomach.

Clara paused and lowered her hands, still holding the knife and apple, to rest on her swell of her dress. "She's been rather quiet today. Though she –" Clara gave a soft gasp of surprise, then smiled down at her belly. "Ah. There she is. She must have heard you," she teased.

Masha chuckled. Then she raised her eyebrows at Clara. "And how sure are you that she's a 'she'?"

Clara shrugged. "I suppose I don't. It's just a feeling."

Masha gave a nod. Then she snorted. "Heavens, I hope you're right. I can't imagine a second Eric running around this castle."

A laugh escaped Clara. "Goodness, the poor major would be at his wits' end. He may very well have to finally retire to the country, in order to maintain his sanity."

"What's this about retiring to the country?" asked the major.

Clara and Masha turned their heads to watch Major Mint approach. He was holding a china teacup in one hand, which was perched on a matching saucer. He waited until Clara had set aside the apple and knife, then handed it to her with extreme (and in Clara's opinion, unnecessarily exaggerated) care.

"What in heaven's name took you so long?" snapped Masha.

The major's face flushed. "The tea was near room temperature," he sputtered defensively. "I had to make a new pot. Beside, the leaves had all but turned into a pitiful mound of mush. Mind you," he continued. "I had to first find your store of tea leaves, which, if I may be so bold as to say, needs to be labeled properly. Then I decided to add honey, as just ginger can be overwhelming, especially when it's the type you keep, Masha dear. Besides –"

"On second thought, perhaps you should have a boy," Masha muttered to Clara.

The major snapped his mouth shut, glaring at Masha.

Clara chuckled. "Thank you, Major," she said sincerely. "I think I shall keep Masha company for a while longer, though. If you have other tasks to attend to, please don't let me keep you. I'll be quite fine here."

"Oh," said the major. "Of course." He gave Clara a bow. "Glad to have been of service. I shall inform the king that you are feeling better."

"Thank you. I'm sure he'll appreciate that," Clara said, ignoring Masha's snort.

The major straightened. Casting an annoyed glance at Masha, he turned and left the kitchens.

Masha set aside her peeled apple and reached for a new one. "So much for the king finishing any more work for the day."

"Oh, dear," said Clara. "I suppose I should have tried to dissuade the major from bothering Eric."

"Better Eric than us."

Clara hid her smile behind the teacup as she raised it to her lips. She took a careful sip. Immediately, her face scrunched up in distaste, and she hastily set the teacup on the cutting table.

"And how is the major's tea?" asked Masha smugly.

"It's...interesting."

Masha lifted her chin in a haughty manner. "Re-label my teas? Bah! I'll label my teas to his liking the moment he develops an ounce of talent for making anything fit for drinking or eating." She set aside her knife and apple, then snatched up the teacup and saucer. "I shall be back in a moment, with a proper cup of tea." She pointed to the apple Clara had been working on. "And stop dallying. I expect that to be fully peeled when I return."

"Of course," Clara said humorously.

Masha gave a humph as she strode off, muttering about the incompetence of majors and tea organization as she went in search of the ruined pot of tea.

/

Clara sighed in contentment as the music of the snow globe drifted throughout the bedchamber. She was sitting in the armchair by the fireplace, beside which was a small table. On it was a couple of books, a candle, and Clara's snow globe. The artificial snow flakes swirled about inside the glass dome, spinning in patterns that would have been impossible to achieve without magic. It was immensely relaxing to watch, and Clara felt her eyelids droop as the music settled over her.

The sound of approaching footsteps roused her from the pull of sleep, and she looked up to see Eric lean against the back of the chair.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly. "Were you sleeping?"

"No. Not quite." She shook her head at the guilt edging Eric's expression. "I'm glad – I wanted to be awake when you came in." Clara gestured for Eric to come closer. He did, kneeling beside the chair and resting his elbows on the armrest so that his head was level with Clara's. She smiled, warmth flooding through her at his presence. "How was your afternoon?" They had had lunch together, but – to Clara's disappointment – been separated in the hours since.

"It started out productive," said Eric. "Then the major found me in the library."

"Oh dear. I suppose that was my fault," Clara said with a gentle laugh.

Eric smirked. "He was terribly worried about your escape from our rooms."

"Yes, apparently it was quite the risk to my life."

"Apparently." Eric leaned forward and kissed Clara's cheek. "Life-threatening walks to the kitchens aside, how are you feeling?"

"Much better," said Clara. "Though I wish my nose would stop running."

"Me too. I'm tired of the piles of handkerchiefs."

Clara smacked Eric's arm, prompting a laugh from him. His attention fell to her swollen belly, and he reached out to place his hand against it. It didn't take long for Eric to feel a faint kick against his palm. "There she is," he murmured.

Clara laid her hand over Eric's. "She's always more active whenever there's music playing." She glanced at the snow globe. "She seems to especially enjoy the snow globe's song."

Eric smiled. "Well of course she does. She has excellent taste, just like her father."

A laugh burst from Clara. "Forgive me, but is that not my song the snow globe plays?"

Eric shrugged. "Details."

Clara rolled her eyes.

Amused, Eric turned his hand over so that his and Clara's palms were touching. "Spend the day with me tomorrow?" he whispered, threading his fingers through hers.

Clara nodded. She pulled her hand free from Eric's to cup the sides of his face, drawing him into a kiss. Eric rested one hand against the side of her stomach and wrapped his other arm around her back, supporting her as he moved closer.

They eventually broke apart, and Eric pressed a final kiss to Clara's forehead before returning his attention to her stomach. He stroked his hand over it with care, pausing every once in a while to feel their child's movements. Clara sat quietly, smiling as she watched various emotions flicker over Eric's expression. She reached out, brushing her thumb over his lips. When she lowered her hand, Eric glanced up to see that her drowsiness had returned, her eyelids fluttering beneath the weight of it. Sensing his gaze, she blinked at him sleepily.

"Come to bed?" he asked, his voice soft.

Clara nodded again. Reaching over the armrest, Eric slipped his arms beneath Clara. He stood, lifting her.

Clara rested her head against his shoulder with a sigh. "I'm so happy," she whispered.

"About what?"

"This baby. You. Masha's tea." Clara tightened her looped arms around Eric's neck. "You."

Eric chuckled. "You're exhausted."

"Mm," murmured Clara.

Eric settled Clara into their bed with little difficultly. He tried to straighten so he could change his clothes, but Clara kept a secure hold on him, and he was forced to simply kick off his boots and slip beneath the sheets next to her. She lay on her side with her back facing Eric, and he pulled her against his chest, slinging his arm over her. Clara mumbled something to Eric, but when he asked her to repeat it, she had already fallen asleep. Smiling, Eric pressed a kiss to her head.

They slept soundly, the snow globe's music weaving through the echoes of their dreams.