It was just after midday when they made it back to the manse. Upon arrival, some of the household servants prepared baths for them; one for Ansel in his quarters, and one for herself in a private bathing room. It was... surprisingly luxurious. Rather than a tub, there was a large pool of hot water sunk into the pool and encased with marble, cut and lined with metals to improve its resistance against heat and cold. Rendered with steam rising, the moisture-clouded surface seemed utterly heavenly.

And so Claudia disrobed, folding her clothes neatly aside as she finished unbuckling the heavy pieces, and set them atop the bench. First her cuirass, shedding the armor like a cocoon, then her belt, and finally her tunic. Bared to the air, her skin prickled with goosebumps. Though the water was already warm, the air was still chilly. It wasn't unpleasant in the slightest. In fact, it was downright invigorating. Gingerly, Claudia stepped a leg over the pool's edge, lowering her foot into the steaming water. The water was hot, nearly aching against her toes and warming as it gently rushed up to engulf her whole leg. When she finally submerged her whole body, Claudia let out a slow sigh.

Water flowed over her shoulders in a tide, splashing around her. As soon as she lowered herself into it, the heated water cradled her, seeping deep into her body. All the grime on her hands melted away. Her stiff, battered muscles unraveled their knots, the aches and exhaustion ebbing with a delightful ease.

How many weeks had it been since she'd last had a proper bath like this? They all seemed to blur together. Her journey from Geofu to Wallesdorf, the exhausting work of reviewing local troops and instructing their sergeants... It had all been good, honest work—vital work. And she took pride in her efforts, of course she did. But then...

She found that she missed Geofu. And most of all, she missed Klaus. This was far from the first time she had been separated from him. He always understood those months spent apart from him to be a part of her duties and responsibilities, as much a part of their lives as any other thing.

But all of her previous campaigns had been forays into hostile territory, beset on all sides by constant threats, forced to remain ever vigilant. This was unlike any such occasion; Here she was, bathing in a luxurious tub, dining on a full spread every evening, sleeping in a warm and comfortable bed. It almost felt like being back home. And that, in turn, made the absence all the stranger and sharper.

Claudia sighed. "Feeling sorry for myself won't change anything," she said to herself, rising.

Her legs rippled through the water as Claudia clambered out of the bath. Despite her words, she found herself continuing to brood, even as she made herself ready for bed. "Goodnight..." she began to say, only to remember no one was there.

The following morning began with pain. Dull, aching pain, across her back and legs. Claudia's muscles throbbed with nearly every movement, forcing her to move gingerly as she woke up, wincing with every shift of her joints.

She managed to hide it well enough during the morning meeting with her command cadre. At the very least, neither Captain Kessler nor Sir Strauss seemed to notice or comment on her winces or grimaces. But Ansel, of course, quickly picked up on it. He looked over at her during a lull in the discussion, staring at her with a frown. When the conference came to an end, he immediately hurried to her side.

"Are you well?" he asked her as soon as the rest of the cadre left, leaving only the two of them in the assembly room.

"Everything's fine," she said, smiling back at him, then winced as she moved her shoulders in a manner that didn't quite agree with her muscles.

"Ma'am..."

Claudia heaved a sigh. "Fine then. Yesterday's exercise took more of a toll on me than I expected. To put it plainly, I'm... rather sore."

"I see. Need a hand up, then?" he said, extending his hand to help her up.

Claudia rolled her eyes and got off the chair. "I said I'm sore, Ansel, not that I've become an invalid," she said. She took a moment to stretch, feeling her tight muscles resisting, then relax somewhat. "And you? How is it that you're not in the same condition?"

Ansel shrugged. "You've got me working out before first light every other morning," he said, then flexed an arm. "I guess that must have gotten me into pretty good shape, huh? All those morning runs, drills, and exercises haven't exactly been doing me any harm."

At his words, Claudia sighed. "Then all that's to say I've been negligent in my own training."

"Negligent? You? Not a chance, ma'am." She wasn't sure whether to laugh or not. He certainly meant it. Ever the squire, he viewed everything his master said and did as infallible. "You were practically leading the pack yesterday. And you're the best fencer I've ever met in my life."

"Truly? Even better than Father?"

"I... uh..." Ansel faltered for a moment, the smile slipping from his face.

"That's the part where you say yes, dear Ansel."

"Well I wouldn't want to lie to you like that."

Her unimpressed glare earned another silly half-smile from him. "Impressive. Truly. I wouldn't have thought you capable of such blatant disloyalty." Claudia placed a hand down by the hilt of her sword, feeling a playful smile of her own begin to form. "Are you so eager to be slapped down for your cheek, Ansel?"

"Would be my honor, ma'am," he said, clearly happy to play along. "Though, if you're still sore right now, maybe we ought to save it for tomorrow?"

"Well, maybe I'm a touch on the petulant side. Right now, I'd like someone to have a bout with," Claudia answered bluntly, taking a slow step closer to him. At the movement, another sharp ache lanced through still tender muscles, up between her shoulders, and she let out a hiss, halting to a stop.

"Easy there." Ansel was at her side at once, one large hand settling around her shoulder. His other hand took gentle, careful hold of her arm to help her support her weight. Claudia found herself wincing, unaccustomed to such support. Yet she relented with a nod, accepting it with quiet thanks. "Take a few minutes. Walk around, stretch your muscles. Want me to get you some water? Tea? Anything?"

His head darted from one side to the next, as though he were only barely stopping himself from dashing down the hall at her word.

"I'll be fine, Ansel. But... Thank you for your consideration." Still, she did as he suggested, slowly rolling her shoulders and stretching her arms, loosening the tight and tender knots along her back and sides. Thankfully it seemed to help.

It wasn't uncommon for the aftereffects of strenuous physical activity to manifest after a full day of rest. Coupled with the exhaustion they all felt after weeks on the march, only to find themselves suddenly running with another person hoisted on their shoulders...

"I'm beginning to think that yesterday's race might not have been my brightest idea," Claudia admitted. After a few moments of consideration, she let herself fall down onto a plush chair, sighing out loud. Perhaps it wasn't the most dignified pose she could present, but...

"For what it's worth, it actually was kind of fun for a while." Ansel said, all the same. "It got tiring after the first five minutes, and most of squadron hated it, but the novelty of it was kind of worth something. And Vera didn't seem to complain too much, either."

"Of course not," Claudia said, smiling. "I did end up carrying her for nearly the entire run. She barely had to put a foot to the ground by the end."

He laughed at that, shaking his head, before stepping forward. "Yeah, that'll explain the soreness. Would you like a massage, then?"

Claudia glanced at him, half expecting to find some trace of sarcasm in him. None was there. Instead, she saw only plain sincerity, with perhaps even a glimmer of genuine concern. The corner of Claudia's lips twitched, falling just short of a grateful smile. Instead, she settled for a small nod.

"Yes, actually." She rolled her neck and shoulders for a moment. "If you would care to."

He... was not exactly experienced in this sort of thing, and it showed. His hands had this tendency to be clumsy and rough. Rather than soothing the ache in her muscles, his movements seemed only to add to it. She squirmed lightly and gritted her teeth to endure the rough rub, but Ansel noticed. Frowning, he eased off and tried again. This time, his motions were much lighter, caressing only, fingertips playing through the tightened knots in her skin.

It did little. At best, it offered a gentle, teasing sensation that set the skin tingling.

"Firmer, Ansel," she told him, "Are you afraid you'll bruise me?"

"No, ma'am," he said. Then took care to dig into her skin, massaging down along her shoulders and the nape of her neck, working his hand to ease away the tenderness with a soothing persistence. She let out a soft sigh. Relying on his sense of touch, he moved his fingers in deft, sure strokes. Using the flat of his palms, Ansel pressed down on the taught muscle and rolled up the tension. With his knuckles and fingertips, he dug against the bundle of muscle with deliberate strokes. He applied pressure slowly, allowing her body to get used to it and adjust.

Lacking in experience, yes. But he was a quick learner. The moment she gave him an instruction, Ansel would do his best to abide by it. "Up to here," she said, placing a hand at the base of her neck, just between her collarbones. At his touch, she repressed the urge to shiver and focused instead on where his hands had curled. "No farther."

Once more, his thumbs traced the knotted up muscles just behind her shoulders. He palmed the lean, corded muscle of her back, rubbing against them with slow strokes. Bit by bit, his firm hands kneaded away at the obstinate knots of her sinews. He lingered there, working them with carefully measured kneads, smoothing out those deep knots.

Letting out another deep, calm breath, Claudia settled back into her seat. Klaus did much the same for her after long days of planning and work, and on the occasions when she returned from expeditions to the dsitant marches. The sensation of those expert hands on her shoulders and neck... It was strange. And strangely grounding. Her husband was skilled with his hands and always had been. She had not even realized how much she had missed it.

Except, of course, it was not Klaus standing behind her. These were larger, calloused hands—the hands of a soldier. Diffident. Careful. Unsure. Ansel applied gentle pressure with his fingertips, then let his palms massage firmly against the back of her neck and up and down her shoulders, making slow, generous strokes up and down her back.

Gradually, so very gradually, the tension within her muscles seemed to roll out of her. She let out another sigh as a rush of soothing heat filled her chest, all the way down to her toes. Eyes glazing shut, the light through her eyelids slowly dimmed. I fell asleep in my chair, she thought. A notion that was rather laughable, considering the time of the day.

Soon enough, she must have somehow managed to lull herself into a state somewhere between waking and rest. Because eventually his hands went still, and Claudia felt herself woken with a near-gentle rousing. Ansel crouched before her, calling her name in a low murmur. Something about the way his voice rolled made her want to lie back, even as she had been pulled at again.

Her head buzzed a bit, as though her senses were just a moment off-kilter and slightly muffled. Each individual sound and sensation only barely registered, coming to her in little flashes. Yet all the while, there was no urge to raise her head or even open her eyes to see. That was good. All she wanted was to remain like this, lost in the quiet hum of her mind...

"Lady Claudia..."

She blinked, slowly coming to, and her surroundings sharpened into focus. Staring down at her with an indiscernible expression was Ansel. "Did I..." a yawn pulled at her and forced her to swallow it, "Did I fall asleep? How long for?"

"Just a few minutes," Ansel said. "I'm sorry for waking you, but I thought it'd be awkward leaving you to sleep in the assembly room."

Blinking the remaining weariness away, Claudia gave a long, slightly disoriented sigh. "That's probably for the best." She shook her head, clearing away some of the haze in her mind. "You're quite good at that, you know. If you should ever decide to pursue a life of medicine over knighthood, I think you would make for a fine attendant."

Ansel laughed. "Can't see that happening. Goddess knows I'd probably screw it up somehow." Despite the self-deprecation, he still wore a wide, boyish grin, the kind he wore whenever given a compliment or offered some praise. It made his cheeks dimple, and caused the corners of his eyes to crinkle up. It was the sort of gentleness and good humor only he could muster; at once cheerful, earnest, even the slightest bit haughty.

...Then the moment passed.

Abruptly, Claudia shook her head and rose up onto her feet. "I... Thank you, Ansel. I think I can manage by myself from here. You're dismissed for the day."

"Are you sure? It's not even noon yet."

She nodded. "I think I might just spend some time writing. Please, feel free to spend your time however you like. Enjoy yourself."

Ansel smiled, nodding at that. "Yes, ma'am." He rendered a salute, fist clenched over his heart, and turned heel to leave the assembly room. "But if you need anything, call for me. I won't go far."

And with that, he was off.

Claudia breathed and faced away from the double doors, trying her best to draw focus to anything that be able to keep her busy. Absently, she noticed that her hands were strangely unsteady, fumbling and shaky. And if her heart was beating at a faster, almost erratic pace, she tried not to pay mind to it.