It took a few minutes, but Clara managed to partially revive Eric. He was too dazed to walk on his own, and so Clara had him lean against her as they stumbled through the passage and back into the castle hallway. By the time a kitchen maid found them, Eric had slumped fully into unconsciousness. Servants were frantically called for, and Eric was carried to his and Clara's rooms. A doctor arrived soon after, and Clara was left waiting in the adjoining antechamber to her and Eric's bedroom with Elizabeth.
"I'm sure it's nothing serious," reassured her aunt.
Clara shook her head, pacing in front of the sofa Elizabeth was sitting on. "But what if it is?" She pressed a hand to her mouth. "It came on so suddenly. He was fine this morning…" She glanced at her aunt. "You've known him almost his entire life, Aunt Elizabeth. Is this something that's happened before?"
Elizabeth grimaced. "No," she admitted. "Not something this severe. Eric was not one to catch a sickness easily."
Clara groaned, running a hand through her hair.
"It will be alright, dear," said Elizabeth. She stood and placed a hand on Clara's arm. "I promise. Doctor Astros has been attending to the royal family since before Eric was born. He's in good hands."
The door connecting to the bedroom opened, and the doctor stepped into the room.
"How is he?" Clara asked anxiously.
Doctor Astros tugged at his coat, straightening it. "Irritable, but fine. It's nothing more than a fever and a rather nasty cold. He's showing signs of extreme fatigue. I managed to get him to confess that he hasn't been sleeping much lately. I'm assuming his body simply shut down from the combination of the illness and the strain he's been under."
Clara sighed. "He has been rather busy as of late."
Doctor Astros smiled wryly. "Perhaps mentioning his collapse isn't the wisest idea at the moment. It was a perfectly normal reaction for a body under such stress, but he seems a tad…embarrassed by it."
No longer plagued by worry for her husband, Clara rolled her eyes.
"I've left medication by the bedside, along with written instructions," continued the doctor.
"I'll see to it that he's properly taken care of," said Clara. "Thank you."
Doctor Astros nodded. "Send for me if he worsens, or if the fever doesn't break by tomorrow. But he should be fine after a couple days' bedrest."
Clara scrunched up her nose. "Oh, dear. Does he know about that?"
"About being confined to his bedchambers for the next few days? Yes, he knows. Though he may need some…persuasion to actually heed the advice." Something teetering between amusement and exasperation glinted in his eyes. "He was difficult to treat as a child, and he hasn't improved much since. But perhaps he will listen if you speak with him."
"I'll make sure he comes to his senses," promised Clara. "Thank you again, doctor."
Doctor Astros bowed and took his leave. Clara turned to Elizabeth, tears of relief in her eyes.
"See? Nothing to fret over, dear," Elizabeth said. She stood and patted her niece's arm. "Though I wish you luck convincing him to stay put. That boy can be difficult."
"I'm not worried," Clara said, her voice breathy as she regained her composure. "I can handle him." Elizabeth smiled warmly and left the room, promising to see Clara at dinner. Feeling steadier, Clara turned and pushed open the door to her and Eric's room.
Eric lay in their bed, propped up by pillows and covered by a thick blanket. He was pale, and a sheen of sweat glistened on his forehead. He appeared to be sleeping, but as Clara approached, his eyes flickered open.
"Clara…" Her name was no more than an exhausted whisper.
Clara's shoulders drooped in sympathy as she settled onto the edge of their bed. "Hello, love," she murmured, brushing her hand against his cheek. "How are you feeling?"
"Like I'm dying," murmured Eric, though Clara knew him well enough to discern the sarcastic humor behind the statement.
Clara huffed out a short laugh. "Don't be dramatic."
"It's true." A tired smile lined Eric's lips. "You'll have to find someone else to rule Parthenia. Masha, perhaps."
Clara made a mock offended noise. "I can manage well enough on my own, thank you."
Eric chuckled, but the sound was interrupted by a hacking cough. "Apologies, dearest," he managed, once the coughing had subsided. "I'm sure you'll do exceedingly well."
"The throne room will need redecorating," said Clara. She reached for the bowl of water that had been placed on the bedside table. Plucking a washcloth from it, she wrung it out and dabbed at Eric's forehead. "Those ghastly banners will be the first to go."
"Those have been there for generations," Eric protested. "They must stay, no matter how ugly they are."
"So you admit they are hideous."
Eric pressed his lips together, glaring at her. Clara grinned and pressed a kiss to his forehead, though she couldn't help cringing at the heat of his skin. "I'm afraid my independent reign will have to wait. Doctor Astros said that after few days bedrest you'll be perfectly fine."
A groan escaped Eric. "Bedrest. How perfectly boring. Besides, I have too much work to do. Taking a couple days' holiday for Christmas is one matter, but afterwards?" He shook his head, coughing. "I can't."
"I shall manage affairs," assured Clara. "And you shall stay here."
"Clara…"
"I won't hear another word against it."
Eric frowned. "You sound like my childhood nanny."
"You sound like a child."
Eric made an annoyed expression. "I rarely took ill as a boy," he said. "And certainly not as easily as this." His lips twisted with discomfort. "And I've never…" The words trailed off.
"Passed out from an illness?" Clara provided gently.
Eric sighed.
Clara rubbed the washcloth across his temple to catch the sweat there. "Everyone gets sick, darling."
Eric shook his head. "No," he said hoarsely. "Not like this." He hesitated, conflict in his eyes as he debated continuing. "In the weeks during our separation, after you had broken my curse and been returned to your home, I did extensive reading in the library. About curses, and how they can affect mortals even after they've been lifted." He focused his gaze on the blazing fireplace opposite the bed. "Mortal bodies aren't meant to sustain heavy magic for so long, especially of such a dark nature. It's an unnatural violation, one that can leave lasting effects."
Fear pooled in Clara's stomach. She set aside the washcloth and grasped Eric's hand. "What effects?" she whispered, afraid to ask.
Eric shrugged, then grimaced at the protest of his aching body. "It differs, depending on the curse and the person who had been cursed. Though occasional fatigue and a weaker immunity seemed to be the more common ones."
Clara ran her thumb over the back of his hand. "So you think this is because the curse left your body weaker than before."
"It makes sense, doesn't it?"
She certainly didn't want it to. The idea of the curse still affecting Eric, even if it was in a manner as meager as occasional weariness, was appalling. "Could this not be a simple illness?" she insisted.
Another coughing fit racked Eric's body. Clara tugged her hand from his, moving it to his back and rubbing soothingly. The fit passed quickly, and Eric sunk back into the pillows.
"It just…makes sense…" he muttered.
"Sense is not a word I would lightly associate with magic," said Clara pointedly. "It is highly unpredictable. Besides, you found no aftereffects of curses that were life-threatening in that book, correct?"
"I suppose."
Clara nodded triumphantly. "Then there is little to worry about. We will have no more talk of curses, for if you worsen because of stress, I shall have to deal with Doctor Astros. And I really would rather not, as he is a pleasant man and I should hate to see him angered."
Eric smiled ruefully. "Very well."
"And you will stay in bed for the next couple days," ordered Clara. "Or I shall…I shall…have the doors to this chamber barred shut from the outside."
Eric gave a sound that was both a laugh and a cough. "If you insist."
Clara smoothed Eric's hair. "I do. And," she added dangerously. "No more working into the early hours of the morning. You and I are to rule together; you must allow me to carry an equal amount of the responsibility. I won't have you falling ill simply because you are being a stubborn mule."
"Stubborn mule?"
Clara narrowed her eyes at him.
"Fine," smirked Eric. "As you command, my queen."
Clara shook her head in exasperation. She continued to stroke his hair, hoping to bring comfort. Eric leaned into her touch, relieved by her cool skin on his.
"I'm sorry my surprise didn't go as well as planned," Eric said after a while.
"It was perfect. But we'll go back when you're feeling better, so we can properly enjoy it."
"Perhaps you should sleep somewhere else until I recover." Worry for her weakened his already faint voice. "I don't want you catching whatever this is." His expression fell. "I've already been around you too much today."
"I feel perfectly fine. I don't even feel tired." A mischievous sort of grin pricked her lips. "After all, I apparently have some magic of my own, and it seems to be doing a fine job protecting me."
"…I'm not sure that's how it works."
Clara lifted her chin in playful defiance. "Of course it is."
Eric smiled. "And is the Sugar Plum Princess sure she wants to share her bed with a sickly king?"
Without hesitation, Clara kicked off her shoes. She slipped beneath the blankets and laid her head on Eric's chest, wrapping one arm around him. "There is nowhere else I would rather be."
/
"Eric, move your legs."
"Should not I have priority over space on the mattress? I am the one who's ill."
Clara placed a hand on the lump beneath the blankets that was Eric's leg and gave it a shove, eliciting a cry of protest from him.
"I'm working," she said matter-of-factly.
"I didn't ask you to…do this…" Eric said, waving his arm in a sweeping arc over the mess of paperwork spread out over the blankets. Clara sat in the midst of it all, her skirt splayed out in all directions. Her hair had been pulled up in a simple twist, but it was slowly coming undone, as she had a habit of tugging at the golden strands when thinking. Eric loved watching the unconsciously done act, smirking as the coiled hair gradually loosened.
Ignoring her husband, Clara scribbled a note in the book laid open on her lap.
"You shouldn't be working at all," huffed Eric. "It's Christmas Day."
"Yes, a day that had no meaning in Parthenia a year ago," Clara remarked lightly. "It is a holiday that only your wife had been planning on celebrating."
Eric coughed. "The whole castle had been planning on it."
Clara gave the quill in her hand an unconcerned wave. "I don't mind postponing what was meant to be a small celebration. It's only for a couple days."
"Because of me."
"I'd rather you be well during it," said Clara. "And I told you I would handle matters until you had recovered. Now hush, I'm trying to concentrate."
Eric leaned forward and kissed his wife's cheek. Clara impatiently waved him off, but she couldn't hold back a grin as she did so.
"You seem to be in much better spirits this afternoon," she said. "And your fever is gone, thank heavens."
"Must be that magic touch of yours."
"Must be," laughed Clara. "Or maybe it's because you slept so late." She grabbed one of the documents on the bed and tossed it at him. "Since you no longer are on your deathbed, why don't you make yourself useful and review that? It needs to be signed and sent off by tomorrow."
Eric took the paper with a mock sigh.
Clara tilted her head, scrutinizing his still pale complexion. "And drink Masha's tea. She will have a fit if she comes back with lunch and you haven't finished it."
"Maybe a kiss will motivate me."
"Maybe I'll take all of my work to the library and leave you to fend for yourself."
"On Christmas Day?"
Clara smiled and picked up the steaming teacup from the bedside table. "Drink," she ordered, holding it out.
Eric made a face, but he took the cup. Satisfied, Clara shifted closer to Eric so that they were sharing the same pillow. She bent her knees and adjusted the records book on them. "Now be quiet," she said.
Eric obligingly did not reply. Instead, he placed a kiss to the top of Clara's head, happy to be ill if it meant spending the rest of the day like this.
/
When Clara woke three days later, she was surprised to find herself alone. It was usually she who woke the earliest, so to see only an impression in the mattress of where Eric had lain was odd to her.
"Eric?" she called out.
No answer.
Frowning, Clara got out of bed and slipped on some shoes and a morning robe over her nightgown. She peered into the adjoining washroom, but it too was empty. Confused, and vaguely concerned, she made her way down to the private dining hall, hoping Eric was there. He had made remarkable lengths towards his recovery over the past few days, but she still worried that he may push himself too far before his body was ready.
The castle seemed oddly quiet. Where was everybody? Shaking her head, Clara pushed open the door to the dining hall.
"MERRY CHRISTMAS!"
Clara jumped at the sudden chorus of jubilant voices shouting the greeting. At the far end of the hall was an enormous Christmas tree, decorated with beaded strings, glass ornaments, ribbon, and orbs that glowed magically. At the top of the tree danced a porcelain ballerina. Streaming lengths of scarlet and emerald cloth had been hung elegantly along the walls of the room, and the ceiling had been magicked so that it appeared as though snowflakes were drifting down upon them. The dining table, weighed down by numerous holiday dishes, was additionally adorned with holly and red candles.
Standing in front of the tree were a dozen of her closest friends, including Major Mint, Captain Candy, and, of course, Elizabeth. Eric was at the front of the group, wearing a pine green and gold-trimmed formal outfit. He beamed as he strode forward and took her in his arms, giving her a kiss.
"Merry Christmas, Clara," he whispered in her ear.
"Merry Christmas, Eric." She looked up at Eric joyfully. "Thank you so much."
"Anything for you," he smiled.
Clara placed a hand against Eric's cheek, inspecting him. His complexion had lost its pallor, and his eyes looked bright and alert. Overall he seemed fully recovered, save for a slight weariness in the way he held himself. But a few more nights of sound sleep would easily remedy that.
"How do you feel?" she asked.
"Wonderful," said Eric honestly.
Smiling in relief, and feeling satisfied that the illness was finally gone, Clara took his hand and tugged him towards everyone.
Elizabeth embraced her fiercely. "Merry Christmas, my darling girl."
"Thank you, Aunt Elizabeth," said Clara. "I'm so happy you were able to be here."
"I wouldn't have missed it for anything," declared her aunt.
"Come, come!" exclaimed Major Mint. "There are presents to be opened and food to be eaten. Let us proceed with the celebrations!"
Eric gave Clara's hand a squeeze. They smiled at each other, happily joining their friends before the Christmas tree.
