"Pardon me, Your Highness?"

Flik grinned as his wife looked up from the leaf scroll she was frantically scribbling upon. For a split second she had that adorable expression on her face, the one where her brain was still transitioning from her previous task to the one at hand. It was one of the rare times the queen let her mask of authority slip away and reveal the vulnerable girl beneath it, the former princess who never seemed quite certain of which foot to put in front of the other.

It was this girl, this princess, who Flik had fallen for. The one who let herself be known, who admitted to him that, contrary to what he and the entire colony (excluding her mother and the royal council) believed, she didn't have it all together. She was more like him than he'd dared to believe, and that made her even more beautiful.

And now here she was, four seasons since the two of them had worked together to bring about Hopper's downfall and set their colony free from his manipulative rule, working hard on plans to expand their trading system and make it more profitable than it already was. She'd accepted the role of queen with humility and grace, and within her first year of leadership had proven herself worthy of the flower crown she wore.

Her mother would have been so proud.

"Is there something I can help you with, dear?"

Flik blinked and the room came back into focus. Atta sat at her desk, her thorn quill poised over the paper as she smiled at him with a knowing look in her eyes. This time she'd been the one to catch his expression, the one where he was utterly lost in thought and somewhere very far from the present moment.

He cleared his throat, feeling a flush creep into his cheeks. "Sorry, Your Highness. Got distracted again."

Atta rolled her eyes as she stood up from her chair, the one he'd crafted for her along with the desk as an anniversary present. She didn't know it, but he'd carved their initials inside of a heart into the bottom of her drawer. She'd have to be cleaning beneath the desk to notice it, which she rarely did. In spite of her somewhat neurotic personality, she was the biggest slob Flik knew after himself. If it wasn't for Doctor Flora's kind offer to clean their sleeping quarters once a week, the two of them would have been buried alive by their own clutter by now.

"I told you, Flik," she said, stretching her arms above her head as she began walking towards him. His eyes drifted downward to the slight bulge in her belly, and the corners of his mouth quirked at the thought of what — or rather, who —was causing that bulge. "You don't need to call me Your Highness anymore."

She reached the place where he was standing, keeping a slightly further distance than normal due to her recent increase in volume, and laced her wispy arms around his neck. "Actually, I prefer you don't. It puts me in an awkward position of power over my own husband."

Flik's grin grew wider. "My apologies, Queen Atta. It's a force of habit."

Another eye roll. "You can drop the 'Queen', too. It still doesn't feel right coming from anyone, but especially from you."

Atta's eyelids lowered, a telltale sign that she was hiding tears. Flik tilted his head and cupped his hand around the side of his wife's face.

"But you are the queen, my love," he whispered. It was a sentence he'd spoken countless times since her coronation, yet it still hadn't quite pierced its way into her heart.

Atta leaned into his palm and closed her eyes. A single tear slid down her cheek. "There was only one true queen of this colony, Flik," she said through a sad smile. "I can never take her place."

As usual, he had no response to this. His mother-in-law's absence was felt by everyone, himself included, but especially by her daughters. They were each mourning in their own ways, and he'd learned after helplessly consulting Gypsy that there was nothing he could do about it except be a shoulder to cry on when they needed it.

Which was exactly why he was here in the first place.

"Speaking of…" he said slowly, hating to interrupt her moment but reminding himself it was for an important reason.

Atta straightened, the warmth of her skin receding from Flik's as she returned to a look of business. It was both impressive and frightening how quickly the ant could shift into a different emotional state when she needed to. He took a breath.

"I don't want to cause any panic, but…"

Before he could finish his sentence, Flik noticed his wife widen her eyes and tense her shoulders. Remembering that starting any story that way was a guaranteed way to cause panic, he hurried onto his question.

"Have you seen Dot around this morning? She was supposed to be at my workshop just after sunrise to help me with a project, and she hasn't shown up yet. She's never been late before."

Atta's shoulders relaxed as her eyes shrunk back to their regular size. She no longer looked like she was bracing herself for the news that the anthill had collapsed, or that another loved one of hers had gone on to be with the Great Tree.

"No, I haven't seen her since she went to bed last night," she said, crossing her arms so they rested on top of the blueberry-shaped lump in her thorax. "Are you sure it was today that she was supposed to help you? It wouldn't be the first time you got the dates mixed up…"

"I'm positive it was today!" Flik defended himself. "I've been using that calendar you made for me. And she's been crossing off the days since we planned this project together. She was really excited about it."

Her eyes lit up like fireflies. "You've been using my calendar?"

"Yes," he said, giving her antenna a playful flick. "But that's beside the point, Your Highness."

Now it was Atta's turn to blush, which was secretly the expression Flik loved the most. It looked like tiny roses were blooming just beneath the surface of her lilac skin.

"Right. Sorry." She pursed her lips in thought. "I know Dot's been going on those runs with Aphie in the mornings. Maybe they took a longer route than usual and she lost track of time?"

Flik frowned. "I don't like her doing that. She shouldn't be out there all by herself."

"You worry too much, honey," Atta chided him, an ironic accusation coming from her. If there was one thing his wife could claim queenship over, it was excessive worrying. "She knows this island like the back of her wings. And I think…"

Here she folded his hands into her own, gazing down at their interlocked fingers for a long moment before speaking.

"I think it's good for her to have some alone time," she said finally. "For both of them."

Flik gave her hands a gentle squeeze, admitting she was right without saying it aloud. Then he rotated her arms so that both their hands rested atop the current home of their future child.

You're gonna make a good mom, he wanted to say, knowing she would deny it as fiercely as she denied being a good queen.

The words were about to spill from his tongue when he was startled by a noise from behind. Atta let go of his hands and nudged him with a smirk.

"See? They're back already."

Flik smiled sheepishly as relief flooded his chest. Then he turned toward the entrance to their room and pushed the leaf curtains aside, ready to give his young assistant an antenna-ful about the value of punctuality.

"Hey, Princess, where have you be—"

He froze mid-sentence.

"Flik? What is it?"

He couldn't answer. He could only stare wordlessly at the sight before him, his heart a stone sinking deeper and deeper into his stomach.

A tiny, bright green creature was bounding down the tunnel towards him, sprinting faster than should have been physically possible for its species as it let out a series of shrill barks.

It was Aphie, the former queen's pet aphid, who was supposed to be with Princess Dot right now. Except the princess was nowhere to be seen.

And her crown was dangling from Aphie's mouth.