The following day, Eric and Clara returned to the Gingerbread Village to try and discover the identity of the man. After making a few inquiries, they were finally informed that the man's name was Hugo Corlynch. He had had a farm just outside of the village, but ever since its destruction, he and his family had wandered aimlessly across Parthenia. They occasionally returned to the Gingerbread Village, but Corlynch had always – rather aggressively – refused offers of charity. Neither he nor his five children had been seen since his outburst the day before.

"He sounds like an annoyingly proud man," Eric muttered. "Refusing help of any kind? Even for the sake of his children?" Eric made a noise of disgust.

He and Clara rode their horses along the road leading back to the castle. Behind them, far enough away to allow them a private conversation, followed four royal guards also on horseback. Clara gazed at the trees lining the road, wondering where people like Corlynch – who had lost everything – were now living. Had they found shelter in the woods? Or had they taken up the life of a nomad, unable to find a place to call theirs?

"I think losing everything so suddenly would be a great shock to anybody," she said. "I only hope that when we do find him, we will be able to reason with him. Pride is a dangerous thing."

"So is a man driven mad with grief over his wife's death," said Eric.

Clara frowned. "Madness seems a bit of an exaggerated trait to attribute to Corlynch, don't you think?"

"I simply think we should be careful when approaching him." Eric glanced warily at Clara. "Or perhaps you shouldn't be involved in the confrontation at all."

"What?" demanded Clara. She narrowed her eyes at Eric. "Why?"

Eric hesitated as he tried to piece together the best way to explain his thoughts.

"I appreciate the concern for my well-being," snapped Clara. "But if you think that I am going to let you talk with a violent-tempered man alone, when you are the main source of his outrage, then you are as thick-headed as Masha says that you are."

"I'm not saying I have to be alone with him," Eric said. "Candy can be with – wait, what does Masha say about me?"

Clara turned away from Eric, re-focusing her attention on the wood's border.

"Clara," said Eric in exasperation. "I'm not suggesting this because I think you are incapable of dealing with Corlynch. I just don't want you to be involved in a situation that might easily erupt into something dangerous."

"It is more dangerous for you," said Clara. "For, as I said, I am not the one who has angered him." She looked back to see Eric staring at his horse with an uncomfortable expression, and the memory of his misery the night before flared in her mind. Immediately, her irritation dissipated.

Clara sighed. "Eric, I'm sorry," she said. "I'm just worried for you."

Eric flicked his horse's reins. "I know," he said quietly. "And I for you."

"Then we shall have to be careful when we talk to him together, won't we?" said Clara with a soft smile.

Eric shook his head in defeat, the corner of his mouth curving upwards.

Once back inside the castle grounds, Eric offered to take the horses to the stables if Clara would go and tell Masha they had returned, so she could prepare lunch. Clara readily agreed, her stomach having been rumbling with hunger long before they had reached the castle.

She decided to take the route through the gardens to get to the kitchens. A servant's entrance was located on the opposite side of the gardens, and Masha didn't mind Clara or Eric using it, so long as they kept out of the way of her workers. Clara preferred it to the regular entrance, for it gave her an excuse to stroll through the beautifully kept gardens.

She smiled as she rounded a cherry tree, raising her hand to brush along the bottoms of the flowering branches. The garden was surprisingly extensive, stretching on for what seemed an impossible length within the confines of the castle grounds. Various trees, bushes, and plants populated it, along with a few tastefully placed statues. It was easy to lose oneself amongst the greenery, as Clara and Eric often did when looking for an escape from the castle. Feeling rather relaxed, Clara paused to gaze up at a marble statue of two lovers tangled in a passionate embrace.

The sudden sound of something rustling in the bushes behind her startled her, and she began to spin around. Before she could turn fully, a hand clamped over her mouth and an arm wrapped around her shoulders. She was yanked against the chest of her captor, and then dragged backwards into a half-circle of tall bushes planted around a small fountain.

The shock of the attack passed quickly, and Clara struggled violently against her captor's arms. Using all her strength, she stamped on the toe of a boot she could see, and simultaneously bit the hand over her mouth. A man's voice cried out in pain, and the hand was jerked away from her mouth. Clara gasped in relief of being free of the filthy hand and sucked in a breath to scream.

But then a knife was pressed against her throat, stopping her cry for help.

"Don't even think about screaming, Your Majesty," snarled her captor.

She stilled, instantly recognizing the haggard voice.

"Where is your husband?" hissed Hugo Corlynch. His putrid breath brushed her ear and she cringed, trying to angle herself away from his mouth.

Clara gritted her teeth. "He's not here," she said, hoping her anger at this man's audacity would mask the lie in her words. "He's traveling. He won't be back for a week at least."

"Lies," snapped the man. "I saw you both leaving the Gingerbread Village only a few hours earlier. He's here. Where?"

Clara tugged fiercely at her captor's arms, but he was surprisingly strong for someone who looked so malnourished. "Do you plan to kill him?" she asked, unable to stop the cold fear rising in her breast.

"No, not him. Not today. You are what I need. Now, where is he?" There was a tremor in the man's voice. It sounded strangely close to fear.

Fear of being caught? Clara wondered. Or fear of his own actions? She gave another futile twist. "I told you. He's –"

"Clara!"

Clara looked up to see Eric standing at the entrance to the half-circle, staring in shock. Overwhelming relief was the first emotion to sweep through Clara. But it was quickly followed by terror for her husband, and she suddenly wished it had been someone, anyone, else who had stumbled upon her and Corlynch.

Anger flashed through the fear in Eric's eyes as he took a step forward. Corlynch increased the pressure of the blade at Clara's throat in warning, forcing Eric to stop.

"I told you that you deserved to endure what I've had to," Corlynch seethed, glaring hatefully at Eric. "Why should you gain everything despite what you've done, while we lose it all? Why are you exempt from fate's hand?"

Eric's jaw tightened. He spared Clara a glance before focusing his attention back on Corlynch. "There is no need to shed blood," he said. "We can discuss this like gentlemen, find a solution…"

"Can you bring back my wife?" demanded Corlynch. "Can you return a mother to her children?" He tightened his grip painfully on Clara's arm, eliciting a wince from her.

Furious, Eric took another step, but Corlynch pulled Clara deeper into the half-circle. "I'll cut her throat! I swear I will." With shaking hands, he pressed the knife harder against Clara's skin. Clara gasped, and a thin line of blood trickled from beneath the blade.

Eric paled. "Please, she is innocent of my crimes. Killing her won't bring back your wife."

"No," agreed Corlynch. "But to know that you will suffer, as I do for my wife…that will be enough." His voice quivered, as though he was struggling to keep up his nerve for what he was doing.

"Please," Eric begged. "Please don't."

Corlynch shook his head. "I have to…I should…it's only fair…it's what's right," he muttered frantically. "I lost my wife because of you. Why shouldn't you lose yours?"

"Take me," said Eric desperately. "Take me instead. Do whatever you want to me. I am the cause of your grief, not her." His voice trembled. "Not her. Please let her go."

"No," said Clara, tears welling in her eyes. "Eric, no…" She grimaced as her throat brushed against the knife with every word. "Please don't take him. Please don't."

"I'll take whoever I want!" cried Corlynch. His eyes were wide, wild with anger and fear and uncertainty.

"Think of your children," implored Eric. "They need their father. If you do this, you will ruin any chance of helping them, being with them as they grow. Is your revenge worth more than their happiness?"

Something shifted in Corlynch's eyes. Clara felt the pressure on her throat soften slightly.

"This is your chance to be the father your children need. To be the good man they love." Eric took a small step forward, his hand outstretched. "Please don't do this."

Corlynch's hands quivered. There was a tense stretch of silence between the three of them as Eric stared into the man's eyes, his expression pleading.

Then Corlynch gave a wretched cry of grief, lowering the knife. Before he had even fully released his hold on Clara, she ripped free of him and rushed to Eric. Eric caught her against him with a sob, clutching her to his chest tightly. Tears of relief streaked down Clara's cheeks, and she buried her face in Eric's shirt, soothed by the familiar strength of his arms.

Corlynch sunk to his knees, weeping hysterically. He let the knife drop to the ground with a dull thud, and pressed his face into his hands, his shoulders shaking.

Drained from the emotional strain of the ordeal, Clara felt her knees buckle. Careful to keep their distance from Corlynch, Eric lowered the both of them to the ground, murmuring fervent reassurances into Clara's hair.

There was the sound of multiple pairs of fast-approaching footsteps. Eric jerked his head up to watch as a dozen guards filed into the half-circle, surrounding the three of them. Two guards roughly grabbed Corlynch's arms and jerked him to his feet.

"Don't harm him," Eric ordered, his voice still shaky. "Take him to the dungeons; I'll deal with him later."

The guards snapped chains onto Corlynch's wrists and led him away. The head of the guards, Rodolph, hurried to Eric and Clara, concern lining his face. "My king and queen, are you alright?"

"I am," said Eric. "But Clara…" He looked at his wife in concern. Gently, he tipped Clara's chin up to inspect the thin cut on her throat. Anger flashed in his eyes, followed by heartbreaking guilt. "I'm so sorry, Clara," he whispered.

Clara swallowed. "I'm alright," she said. "I just want to go inside now."

Eric held her gaze for a moment longer, then glanced up at Rodolph curiously. "How did you know?"

Rodolph pointed to a balcony overlooking the half-circle. "A laundrymaid had been drying out linens. As soon as she saw the queen being taken she ran for help."

Eric gave a weak laugh. "I'll have to give her the rest of the week off." He returned his attention to Clara. "Can you stand?"

Clara nodded. She gripped Eric's hand, allowing him to pull her to her feet. With Rodolph leading them, and the remaining guards following, they made they way into the castle.

After what had happened, neither Clara nor Eric felt very hungry. Once Clara's wound was cleaned and bandaged, she and Eric retired to their rooms, wanting simply to be alone together.

Eric knelt in front of Clara, who was sitting on their bed. "Clara, I am so sorry," he said miserably. "I should've known –"

"That Corlynch had followed us back from the Gingerbread Village and was hiding in the gardens?" Clara smiled sympathetically. "Even you cannot predict such events, love."

Eric's face twisted with sorrow. He brought a hand to the side of Clara's neck, careful to avoid the bandage. "This is all my fault."

Clara grasped his hand. "It is not your fault," she said firmly. "Corlynch refused to accept charity, refused to allow forgiveness into his heart. That is not on you."

"But because of the Mouse King –"

"Yes, the Mouse King destroyed his farm. Not you." Clara set her jaw. "And if you continue to blame yourself, I'll lock you in the library with Major Mint and Masha until they lecture some sense into you."

Despite his grief at seeing Clara injured, Eric couldn't help it as his mouth twitched into the shadow of a smile. "Now that truly is a horrible punishment."

Clara brought her free hand up to Eric's cheek. She ran her thumb over his skin, just brushing the corner of his lips. "I'm fine," she said. "And so are you. That's what matters."

Eric leaned forward and gently kissed Clara. When he settled back on his heels, there was nothing but the utmost adoration in his eyes for her.

Clara smiled. "I think my appetite has finally returned. Shall we go down for lunch now?"

Eric pushed himself to his feet. "Probably, before Masha comes barging in and drags us down herself, least we 'waste away.'"

"She cares," Clara said affectionately. She stood and linked her arm through Eric's. Together they went down to the kitchen, preferring today to eat in Masha's company rather than isolate themselves in the dining hall.

Masha fretted over them the entire time, giving them far too much to eat, and worrying over any noise or movement Eric or Clara made that sounded even remotely close to discomfort. As they ate she paced about the kitchen furiously, vowing to 'give that brute what he deserves' if she got her hands on Corlynch. Before they left, she insisted that they each drink a full cup of her herbal tea. Only then did she dismiss them.

Eric did not leave Clara's side the rest of the day. They moved about the castle together as they attended to various tasks, Eric never being no more than a couple paces away from her. When he wasn't holding her hand, he often brushed his fingers against her arm, as though reassuring himself that she was safe beside him. Clara smiled and encouraged the contact, hoping that it would calm Eric's nerves, which seemed more frazzled then hers. By the time dusk had settled over the castle, Eric and Clara were quite relieved to escape the anxious inquires of their friends and make their way back to the privacy of their bedchamber. Only when they had finally settled into their bed did they fully relax.

"What should we do about Corlynch?" asked Clara.

It was completely dark outside now, and most of the castle had calmed down for the night. Clara leaned against Eric's chest as he sat against pillows stacked along the headboard of the bed. His arms were linked over Clara, and she ran her hand over the lower one, stroking back and forth lightly.

"Hm?" murmured Eric. He had been gazing into the fireplace, his mind wandering in the silence that had settled between them before Clara had spoken.

"Corlynch," repeated Clara.

"Oh." Eric sighed.

"You're not going to just leave him in the dungeons, are you?"

"No," said Eric softly. "No, I would have him returned to his children, but I fear that he is not mentally well enough to care for them properly." He closed his eyes, savoring the sensation of Clara's fingers running over his skin. "I'll have Doctor Astros examine him. If he does not believe Corlynch fit to care for his children, then we'll have Corlynch sent to a place that can help him."

"And his children?"

"Corlynch refused to tell Candy where they were. Hopefully he'll tell us tomorrow, and we can bring them here and make sure they're properly clothed and fed before deciding where they should go." Eric rubbed his thumb along Clara's arm. "We'll have to find someone who will be willing to take them in until their father is well. I'll be sure to pay for the expense of their keep to whoever does."

"We'll find someone," reassured Clara. She took Eric's hand and pressed a kiss to his palm. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"Many would not blame you if you simply left Corlynch in the dungeons. But you are going to help him, and his children." She squeezed his arm. "You told Corlynch that you were trying to be the man you should have been before your curse. But you are that man, Eric. You've been him for so long now." She twisted around and looked up at Eric. "I'm so proud of you."

Emotion swelled in Eric, his eyes shining with the deepest gratitude. "Thank you, Clara."

She smiled and wrapped her arm around him, leaning into his warmth. "I love you, Eric."

He kissed Clara's forehead. "I love you."