A/N: It's a shorter chapter at around 1.3k words, but it just felt right to have the event stand alone as a chapter rather than have it be part of a longer chapter. Heavy mental health themes in this chapter, back out now if you're triggered by that sort of thing.

Klara was despondent after the failure in Portland.

Upon returning to the castle, Klara greeted no one, she just walked to the nursery where she should have been putting Diana. Now she had no idea where that strange, incredible child was, or if she was even still alive.

She moved the rocking chair and placed it in front of the bassinet, staring blankly into its white lace as she rocked back and forth, otherwise sitting in perfect silence.

Until she couldn't stop thinking about the gun pointed in her face, the blank, uniform white of the bassinet providing too good a canvas for her subconscious to run wild.

She kicked off her heels, lifting up her legs so her feet rested at the edge of the seat and wrapped her arms around her knees, hugging them close to her chest.

It didn't matter what she did, how she sat, what she stared at, all she could think about were Diana and that gun right in her face.

She didn't fully comprehend that she had been like this for hours, and that Ingrid had came in several times to check on her, as though her mind was elsewhere and her body was running on some sort of autopilot, rejecting any comforts, anything to eat, any conversation. She wasn't hungry, though she should have been. Her coat wasn't too hot, though it should have been with the roaring fire so close by. She wasn't in the mood for conversation, her mind was totally elsewhere, and what could she even say about something she was still processing?

Viktor, meanwhile, was doing damage control. Making several calls, sending Verrat agents out to hopefully locate Diana sooner rather than later, perhaps have the child retrieved before the king found out of his monumental failure.

Ingrid watched in trepidation as Viktor made several orders, practically downing a drink between each one.

"Is it really that hard to locate the limo they stole? If you aren't calling me back with news before the week is out I'll have your head." Viktor's voice was thick with intoxication, but he wasn't anywhere near as drunk as he wanted to be.

"Your highness." Ingrid finally made herself known, stepping out of the shadows.

"Yes, Ingrid?" Viktor snapped.

"The princess, she's... I think you had better come and see for yourself." Even in Viktor's drunken stupor, he knew it was grave, he could feel Ingrid's insistent, sharp eyes on him.

"Is she hurt?" He asked.

"Not physically." Was all Ingrid could say. "Please, your highness, it's best if you see it for yourself."

"I need to make another call, if she's not physically-"

"Your highness, I must insist that this is an urgent-"

"Fine, fine. Fine!" He raised his voice when Ingrid wouldn't stop talking, finally shutting her up. He rose up from his seat and stalked out of the office, allowing Ingrid to lead the way.

"She's been like this all day." Ingrid told Viktor when they arrived at the nursery. "I can't get her to eat or drink, she's resisted every time we tried to move her." Her voice trembled.

Klara was in a sorry state. Still curled up on the rocking chair, she had fallen asleep, but she was muttering things in her sleep, violently fidgeting like she was having some sort of nightmare. A strong stench filled Viktor's nose, realizing what it was when he noticed one of the servants wiping down the floor around the rocking chair.

Not even three months into their marriage and he had driven his wife and the mother of his child insane.

What the hell have I done?

"Get her cleaned up and get her something to eat, I don't care if you have to force her."

"Your highness, that is not a good idea in her current state."

"And what am I supposed to do? The last time I dealt with her she saw fit to slap me across the face. I don't think she wants much to do with me in her current state, and I'll afford her that, but I'll be damned if she risks the health of my child." He snarled.

"I'll try to get her calmed down." Ingrid said to appease Viktor, hoping she'd be able to. She didn't want to make Klara's already fragile state worse.

Viktor left, his long gait taking him further down the corridor than it would most when he heard Klara scream, followed by a thud and things clattering on the floor. He turned sharply and ran back to the nursery to find both Klara and Ingrid on the floor, Ingrid having gotten herself the same violent treatment he got on the plane back to Austria. Klara was backed into a corner, looking feral and unwell, slick with sweat, stinking of urine, tears falling down her cheeks and her face red from sobbing.

Guilt filled him.

She had been so normal before she met him. She wasn't made for this, he knew she wasn't made for this, she didn't have the blood, but he dragged her in anyways.

He realized he couldn't keep her around him all the time, not with the way things were going now and how they were about to get even worse. Even Persephone needed her six months in the sun.

"I want my mom." Klara sobbed out. "I want Lil, I want my mom." She kept repeating it over and over, to the point Viktor was convinced she had no clue what she was actually saying and was having a manic episode.

Risking another beating, he knelt down to his wife, looking at her closely, seeing the devastation he had caused up close.

"Klara." Viktor said softly.

She continued to repeat those words, as though she didn't hear him, her eyes looking through his, the sight of them haunting.

"I can get your mother and sister here, just please..." He didn't know what he was about to request, that she get better? That she stop crying? That she stop looking through him as if he wasn't there? "Can you even hear me?" His voice weak, his resolve crumbling, revealing vulnerability that was already brewing underneath the surface. "See me? Feel me?" He took a risk and cupped her cheeks with his hands. She didn't respond, still in her own little world, hell more like. "Klara, for fuck's sake, say something." Tears pricked the corners of his eyes.

"Your highness." He heard, probably Ingrid, but he ignored her.

"Klara, I'll let you see your mother and sister, I'll send you out to the country, I'll do anything, please." He felt powerless as he spoke to her.

He thought he might have gotten to her when she finally stopped repeating the same words over and over.

"What?" She seemed more lucid.

The victory was short lived.

She looked at him, brows furrowed, confused, as though she couldn't understand why he was crying.

"What?" She said again.

"Do you want to visit your mother and sister?" Viktor asked again.

She nodded.

"Will you get cleaned up and have something to eat, and we'll call them and invite them?" Viktor plead, hoping it would get through to her.

She nodded again.

Viktor wasn't even sure if she was aware of her wet clothes and the fact she hadn't eaten.

"Ingrid will help you, alright?"

When Klara nodded again, he stood up, offering Klara his hand. She took it, rising to her stocking-covered feet. Ingrid approached the young princess and wrapped her arm around her shoulder, leading her out of the nursery.

Viktor recomposed himself, he still had so much to do, but seeing that made him think back to what Sean told him in Portland. How time wasn't on her side when it came to the king's more violent intentions, how she wouldn't survive their world. His fear sobered him.

He had one more item on his agenda.

He would have to ready his property outside of Alpbach, he needed Klara and her family away from what would transpire. He should have done it sooner, he already worried he was too late in finally making the call, that the damage had already been done.