Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Conception – The mark of the beginning of growth for a new life. This occurs when a male releases a sperm cell which encounters an ovum in the female's fallopian tube, where they then fuse together. While the now zygote may feel nestled in the home that is the fallopian tube, it will shortly find its new space in the uterus less than a week later, although the zygote starts dividing and growing only a maximum of 30 hours after the initial fertilization. The mother has no visible symptoms at this stage.

Maria let out a sigh as she stepped onto the balcony overlooking Attersee. The serene waters stretched endlessly under the pale glow of the moon, their surface shimmering like liquid silver. Despite the warmth of the August day that had long since faded, the night air carried a coolness that nipped at her skin. She pulled her robe tighter around her shoulders, savoring the stillness of the moment. The gentle rustling of trees and distant call of a night bird were the only sounds breaking the quiet. It was peaceful here, almost dreamlike, as though the world had paused just for her.

Maria leaned against the wooden railing, her gaze fixed on the faint mist rising off the lake. Her thoughts drifted to the life-changing year that now lay behind her. Twelve months ago, she had been a run-away postulant standing on the gazebo in the villa garden, her heart pounding as Georg had confessed his love for her. That night had felt like a fairytale, the stars shining above them as his words locked themselves deep in her heart, binding them forever. Yet, somehow, the life that followed had been even more extraordinary than she could have imagined.

She thought of the very early days of their marriage, and her insides melting as she thought of how much love she had experienced then and thereon. The transition from being a governess to a wife, a baroness, a mother, and a lover had been overwhelming at times, but Georg had been by her side through it all. His steadfast devotion had wrapped around her like a warm embrace, steadying her as she stepped into her new roles. Some days she still wondered if it was real, if this life she now lived wasn't some elaborate dream she would wake from. But then he would look at her, his gaze filled with so much love that her doubts would melt away.

Ever since their return from Paris, where they had spent a blissful honeymoon, the children had claimed most of her time. Maria loved them fiercely and delighted in every moment of being their mother. Yet, there were evenings she longed for the quiet intimacy she and Georg shared during those early weeks in Paris. Nights in Aigen had become their sanctuary, a time devoted just to the two of them, no one else. Still, Georg had insisted that they needed more. He had put his foot down and stolen her away for the weekend, a surprise retreat to celebrate what he called their "anniversary." Though it wasn't their wedding anniversary – that was still months away – it marked a year since that transformative evening, and Georg had wanted to commemorate it in their own way.

Maria smiled softly, her cheeks tinged with a blush as she thought of this weekend's activities. The time they had spent alone together, absolutely nothing but them and their love and need for each other. Georg had been more than attentive, his every touch and word charged with a passion that made her breath hitch. They had walked along the lake, hand in hand, the sun dipped low in the sky, painting the water hues of gold and roses. They had shared lazy breakfasts on the terrace, the aroma of fresh coffee mingling with the scent of heady flowers. And they had retreated to their room in the afternoons, away from the world, where Georg's kisses grew deeper, his touch more insistent.

Maria felt her cheeks grow warmer as memories of their intimacy flooded her mind. There had been a tenderness in his touch and fire in his kisses that had left her feeling breathless, cherished, and loved in completely new ways that she hadn't even known were possible. His whispered words of adoration during their lovemaking, his steady hands guiding her closer, had made her feel like the most beautiful woman in the whole world. The thought of it made heart flutter, even now, as the cool breeze brushed her face. The way Georg made her feel seen, understood, and desired in a way that both thrilled and humbled her, it was simply irresistible.

Georg had always been an amazing lover, mindful of her every need, always seeming to know precisely what she required before she could even voice it. But this weekend had awakened something different in him, something unrestrained. It was as if the months of sharing their lives with restless children, a bustling household, and the constraints of daily life had only fueled his desire, building a kind of longing that now, with the freedom of solitude, could finally be released.

He had been insatiable, really. The self-disciplined, composed Georg she had known in public was gone, replaced by a man whose every glance, every touch, every whispered word was imbued with an intensity that left her breathless. It wasn't just his passion, though; it was the way he reveled in their connection, how he sought not only to take but to give her pleasure in equal measure. His lips lingered long on hers, then trailed across her skin as though committing every inch of her to memory. His hands, steady yet insistent, explored her with a reverence that made her feel appreciated beyond measure.

Maria had loved it. She loved him. The unspoken restraint they had both carried for so long was gone, replaced by something raw and untamed. It was as though the privacy of this weekend had given them permission to fully rediscover each other, to immerse themselves in the love that had drawn them together so irrevocably a year ago. She hadn't known such passion was possible, hadn't understood how deeply her heart and body could respond to him. And yet, here she was, her cheeks flushed with the memory, her lips curving into a soft, contended smile.

She closed her eyes, inhaling deeply. The scent of pine and fresh water filled her senses, grounding her in this moment, in this place where so much love had been shared. It was more than she had ever dared to dream for herself, and yet here she was, living it. Maria opened her eyes and looked out over the lake once more, a soft smile gracing her lips.

Warm arms then encircled her waist, pulling her gently against a familiar chest, and she felt the soft press of lips on the back of her neck. The sudden but welcome sensation broke her from her thoughts, and her smile deepened as she leaned into his embrace.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Georg's voice was a low murmur, tinged with affection, his breath warm against her ear.

Maria tilted her head to glance back at him, her eyes twinkling. "Oh nothing much," she said lightly. "Just… reflecting."

"Reflecting?" he asked, his brows arching playfully. "That sounds serious. Should I be concerned?"

She laughed softly, shaking her head. "Not at all. I was just thinking about the past year… how much has changed. How much love I have been so lucky to give and receive." Her voice softened. "It's almost too much to believe sometimes."

Georg gently turned her to face him, his hands sliding to rest on her waist. "Too much to believe? I'll have to work harder to convince you then," he teased, though his eyes held a deeper sincerity. "Maria, everything about this past year – everything about us – has been more than I could have hoped for, too. You've given me more than you know."

Her heart swelled at his words, and she reached up to touch his cheek, her fingers brushing the slight stubble there. "You've given me a home. A family. A love I never imagined I'd find."

"And you've reminded me how to live," he replied, his voice filled with quiet emotion. He glanced over her shoulder toward the lake then back at her. "This place, this moment… it's perfect, but only because you're here."

Maria smiled up at him, her hand slipping into his as she leaned closer. "Georg," she whispered, her voice carrying a wealth of emotion in that single word.

For a moment, they simply stood together, wrapped in the quiet of the night and the vastness of the love that had brought them here. The future, uncertain as it was, could wait. Right now, they had each other, and that was all that mattered.

Maria felt Georg's hand tighten slightly around hers, his thumb brushing over her knuckles in an unspoken gesture of affection. He leaned closer, his lips grazing her temple as he murmured, "As much as I enjoy this balcony and the view, I can't help but think there's a much warmer place for us to be."

She tilted her head back to look at him, her smile teasing. "Oh? And where might that be?"

Georg's lips curved into a playful grin, his eyes glinting with mischief. "I have it on good authority that there's a rather inviting bed just inside, and it's missing two essential occupants. I propose we rectify that situation immediately."

Maria laughed, the sound soft and warm in the quiet night air. "Is that so? And here I was, thinking you joined me out here for the romance of the stars and the lake."

"Oh, romance is very much part of the plan," Georg replied, his tone low and suggestive. "But I find the stars can't compete with you, and as for the lake… well, it's far too cold for my liking."

Before she could respond, he swept her off her feet with ease, cradling her in his arms. Maria gasped, then laughed again, her arms looping around his neck. "Georg! You're impossible."

"Only for you, my darling," he said, his grin widening as he carried her back inside. The warmth of the room enveloped them, the golden glow of the fire casting flickering shadows on the walls. He set her down gently, his arms lingering around her waist as he gazed into her eyes. "Now, let's see if we can't make this evening even more memorable."

Maria's heart swelled as she stood on tiptoe to press a kiss to his lips, the love and laughter between them weaving into the perfect moment. Whatever the rest of the weekend held, she knew it would be filled with the same unshakable connection they had shared from the very beginning.

Chapter Text

Week 3-4 – At this stage, the embryo has started to develop major organs like the brain and spinal cord. The mother can expect to feel a low amount of energy and may be fatigued easily, but the breasts can be expected only to grow hastily leading to unwanted pains and aches. Husbands be warned!

Hmmpf.

Maria huffed as she threw yet another dress onto the growing pile on the vanity chair beside her. The heap was beginning to resemble a small mountain, each garment more frustrating than the last. She had been stationed in her and Georg's expansive bathroom for what felt like an eternity, and yet she had made absolutely no progress. By now, she was certain that the children were well into their breakfast, likely conspiring about whatever mischief they would get into that day.

She reached for another dress, this time choosing one she knew to be particularly loose-fitting at the top. Surely this one would work. But as she slipped it over her head and adjusted it into place, her optimism quickly faded. The fabric clung uncomfortably to her bust, pressing in ways that made her feel utterly constricted. She groaned, frustration bubbling to the surface as she yanked the dress off again and tossed it toward the pile with a dramatic flourish.

A week ago, every one of these dresses had fit her perfectly. Fit like a glove, as the seamstress had assured her. But now, it seemed as though she would need to go up two sizes just to find relief. She felt absurdly out of place in her own skin, as though her body was no longer hers to control.

In a fit of desperation, Maria dug her hand into the new fabric now around her chest, attempting to adjust the material to fit more comfortably. Instead, her fingers pressed against the sore, swollen skin beneath, and a sharp, involuntary squeal escaped her lips. She froze, stunned by the sudden flash of pain, her cheeks flushing with both discomfort and embarrassment at her own reaction.

"What is wrong with me?" she muttered to her reflection, her voice tinged with a mix of irritation and worry. She leaned closer to the mirror, as if it might offer her some explanation, but it provided no answers – only the sight of her slightly disheveled hair and the exasperation etched across her face. Surely this wasn't normal. Breasts didn't grow this quick, did they? And this pain – it had to be a sign of something more serious. There must be something wrong with her.

Her spiral of thoughts was interrupted by a soft knock at the bathroom door. Maria whirled around, her heart leaping to her throat. Panic flashed through her mind as tried to decide whether to answer it or ignore it, her hands instinctively smoothing the rumpled fabric of her current ill-fitting dress.

"Maria?" came Georg's voice, gentle but with a hint of curiosity. "Are you alright in there, darling?"

Her shoulders sagged in both relief and apprehension. Of course it was Georg. It was always Georg when she was feeling like this – frazzled and uncertain, as though he had an uncanny sense for when she was in trouble. She hesitated for a moment, glancing back at the mess of discarded dresses behind her, their vibrant colors a glaring testament to her frustration.

"Uhm… yes, yes, everything's just fine!" she called out, her voice higher and less convincing than she'd intended. Clearing her throat, she tried again. "You can come in."

The door opened, and Georg stepped inside, looking as effortlessly dapper as ever in a crisp shirt and tailored trousers. Maria often wondered how he managed to look so composed at all times, even during their most chaotic mornings. His hair was slightly tousled, as though he'd ran his fingers through it in thought, and his expression carried his usual blend of calm assurance and understated amusement.

"We've been waiting for you, darling," he said, his tone warm but laced with gentle teasing. "We were all starting to get a little bit worried. Louisa even suggested sending a search party."

Maria let out a small laugh, rolling her eyes at the idea of the children orchestrating such an endeavor. "Oh, I'm sure they would have made it quite the adventure."

Georg stepped further into the room, his eyes sweeping over the scene. It didn't take long for his gaze to land on the pile of dresses spilling over the vanity chair, a veritable rainbow of fabric threatening to topple to the floor. He raised a brow, his lips twitching into a mischievous grin. "Hmm," he mused, crossing his arms as he leaned casually against the large clawfoot tub. "Having trouble deciding what to wear today?"

"Something like that," she admitted, though her voice faltered slightly, betraying her frustration. She gestured vaguely at the heap of clothing, avoiding his gaze as she added, "It seems none of these are quite… cooperating."

Georg tilted his head, his brows drawing together in mild confusion as he looked between her and the colorful pile of dresses. "Cooperating?" he repeated, stepping closer to her. "Darling, you make it sound like your wardrobe has staged a rebellion."

Maria let out a nervous laugh, shifting on her feet. "It might as well have," she muttered, her fingers brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear. She glanced toward the mirror, then back at the discarded dresses, her cheeks warming as she tried to figure out how to explain without sounding ridiculous.

Georg's smile softened as he studied her. He could see the tension in her posture, the way she avoided meeting his eyes, and it only made his concern grow. "Maria," he said gently, his voice coaxing. "What's really the matter?"

She stalled, her hands fidgeting with the fabric of her dress. "It's… nothing, really. Just me being silly," she assured quickly, though her tone lacked conviction. "I suppose I'm just having one of those mornings."

Georg didn't look convinced. He stepped closer, his hand coming to rest lightly on her arm. "One of those mornings where every dress you own ends up on the chair?" he teased lightly, though there was nothing but warmth in his expression. "Come now, darling, I know you. This isn't just about a dress."

Maria's blush deepened, and she looked away, biting her lip. She hated how easily he could see through her, how he had this unearthly ability to gently pry open her thoughts no matter how hard she tried to keep them hidden. "It's nothing, truly," she said again, her voice barely above a whisper.

Georg gave a small hum, the kind he always made when he knew she wasn't being entirely honest. He stepped closer still, tilting his head to meet her downcast gaze. "Maria," he said softly, his tone a mix of patience and curiosity. "Talk to me. What's wrong?"

She sighed, her shoulder sagging as she finally gave in. "It's just… nothing seems to be fitting properly today," she confessed, her voice small and grudging. "Everything feels tight and uncomfortable."

Georg's eyes flicked to the dresses and then back to her, and for a moment, his expression was unreadable. "Tight and uncomfortable?" he repeated, his brow furrowing slightly. "How so?"

Maria fidgeted again, feeling her blush creep further down her neck. "It's my… my bust," she mumbled, so quietly that the words were barely heard by Georg. "It's like suddenly they decided to grow two sizes overnight, and nothing fits the way it usually does."

Georg blinked, and then his lips twitched as though he were fighting the urge to smile. "Your… bust," he echoed, his voice tender but tinged with amusement.

Maria groaned, covering her face with her hands. "Oh, for heaven's sake, Georg, don't make me say it again!" she exclaimed, her voice muffled behind her fingers. "It's embarrassing enough as it is."

He chuckled softly, reaching up and gingerly pulling her hands away from her face. "I'm not making fun of you," he promised, though his eyes twinkled with barely contained mirth as he looked down at her. "I just wasn't expecting that answer, that's all."

"Well, neither was I!" she shot back, her frustration evident, though tempered by the way he held her hands so tenderly, his thumbs brushing lightly over her knuckles. "It's like my body has a mind of its own, and none of my clothes are fitting quite right anymore."

Georg bent his head, his gaze flickered briefly to her figure before returning to her face. "Hmm," he contemplated, his tone light and thoughtful. "Well, I personally don't see how that is much of a problem."

Maria blinked, momentarily confused by his response. "What are you-" Her cheeks suddenly flushed a deep crimson as she caught the sly glint in his eyes. "Georg!"

"What?" he asked innocently, though his smirk betrayed him. "I'm merely saying that I fail to see anything worth complaining about."

"You are impossible!" Maria huffed, trying to ignore the warmth spreading through her face and neck as she swatted at his arm.

"And yet, here you are," Georg quipped, laughing as he caught her hand before she could pull it away. "Married to me, hopelessly in love, and, might I add, looking as lovely as ever."

Maria groaned again, though a unwilling smile tugged at her lips despite her embarrassment. "Flattery will get you nowhere, Captain."

"Oh, I'm not flattering you," he responded smoothly, his grin widening as he leaned in closer. "I'm simply stating the facts."

She let out an exasperated laugh, shaking her head as she tried to regain her composure. "Well, the fact is," she countered, her tone laced with playful defiance, "I have nothing to wear, and it's entirely your fault."

"My fault?" Georg raised a brow, feigning offense. "I don't recall sewing these dresses myself."

"No," Maria reasoned, her eyes narrowing as her grin grew mischievous, "but you're the one who insisted I needed an entirely new wardrobe when we got married. Now I'm stuck with dresses that don't fit!"

Georg laughed, the deep, warm sound filling the room. "Alright, fair enough," he conceded, holding up his hands in mock surrender. "But I still stand by my earlier point – I don't see a problem worth getting upset about."

Maria rolled her eyes, though the tension she'd been carrying all morning had nearly melted away. "You're impossible," she said again, her voice softening as a small smile crept onto her lips. She gestured back toward the pile of dresses on the chair. "But aside from your so-called lack of a problem, Georg, nothing fits. Not a single thing."

Georg tilted his head, his eyes flickering down to fully take in the simple dress she was wearing, one she had hastily thrown on after tossing yet another ill-fitting option out. "Nothing fits?" he reverberated, raising a brow. "Well, I beg to differ."

Maria frowned slightly, confused. "What do you mean?"

"What you're wearing right now," he said, his voice dipping lower, "looks absolutely perfect to me."

Maria's cheeks flushed again at the way he was looking at her – full of admiration and pure awe, as if she were the most captivating sight in the world. "Georg," she began, her voice faltering slightly as she tried to hold onto her indignation. "This dress is all wrong. It's too tight, the neckline is uncomfortable, and-"

He leaned forward abruptly, cutting her off with a gentle, lingering kiss. His lips brushed hers with a tenderness that left her momentarily breathless, and when he pulled back, his smile had softened into something more earnest. "Darling," he murmured, his hands lightly resting on her waist, "you could wear a burlap sack, and you'd still be the most beautiful woman in the room."

Maria's heart fluttered at this words, and she couldn't help but giggle softly, her earlier irritation now entirely forgotten. "You really are impossible," she said, though her tone was filled with affection.

"And you," Georg replied, his grin returning, "are far too hard on yourself." He brushed a strand of hair from her face, his fingers lingering for just a moment before he straightened, glancing toward the door. "Now, as much as I'd like to stay here and continue admiring you, the children are likely plotting mutiny by now. We should head downstairs before they start scaling the walls."

Maria laughed again, shaking her head as she reached for his hand. "You're probably right. Louisa's been itching to lead a revolution ever since last week's geography lesson."

Georg chuckled, squeezing her hand gently as he led her toward the door. "Then let's hurry before she drafts the others into her army."

TUWSTUWSTUWSTUWS

The late afternoon sun cast a golden glow over the villa's sprawling garden, where the children's laughter rang out like music. Maria stood under the shade of a large oak tree, her hands loosely clasped as she watched the children dart around in a game of tag. Their energy seemed boundless, their movements a blur of color and joy as they wove through the grass and around the bushes. Maria smiled, her heart swelling with love at the sight of them.

But as the minutes passed, the warmth of the September sun began to feel heavier, the lively chatter around her blending into a distant hum. A wave of exhaustion washed over her, sudden and all-encompassing. She rested her hand against the rough bark of the tree, her fingers curling slightly as she tried to steady herself. She hadn't done anything strenuous – nothing beyond standing and watching – but the weight pressing on her shoulders made her feel as though she'd been running alongside the children for hours.

"Mother?" The soft, familiar voice made her turn, and she found Liesl standing nearby, her brow furrowed in concern. "Are you alright? You look… tired."

Maria straightened, wiping a drop of sweat from her hairline as she forced a reassuring smile. "I'm fine, Liesl," she said lightly. "I just didn't sleep well last night, that's all."

Liesl's expression didn't mellow. She stepped closer, her hands clasped in front of her. "Are you sure? You've been standing here for a while. Maybe you should rest."

Maria let out a soft laugh, though it lacked conviction. "Rest? With this lot running around? I think not," she teased, nodding toward the children who were now debating the rules of their next game.

"Mother," Liesl said gently, her tone more insistent now. "I can take over. Why don't you go inside and nap? I'm sure Father will be out soon to help."

Maria hesitated, her gaze flickering to the children, then back to Liesl. She opened her mouth to protest, but the look in Liesl's eyes – unwavering, calm, and far too grown-up – made her pause. "You really don't mind?" she asked, her voice quieter now.

"Of course not," Liesl answered with a small smile. "You've done more than enough today. Go on. I've got this."

Maria's smile brightened, and a wave of gratitude swelled in her chest. She reached out to squeeze Liesl's hand. "Oh, Liesl," she murmured, her voice tinged with emotion. "Please don't leave me next year. I don't know what I'll do without you."

Liesl beamed, though there was a flicker of sadness in her eyes. "You'll be just fine, Mother. I promise. We both will."

Maria nodded, though the thought of Liesl leaving still tugged at her heart. With a final glance at the children, she made her way back to the villa. The coolness of the house was a welcome relief from the afternoon heat, and as she climbed the stairs to her and Georg's room, she felt her body grow heavier with each step.

Pushing open the door, Maria let out a small sigh as the familiar comfort of their room enveloped her. Her gaze fell on one of Georg's shirts draped over the back of a chair, and she hesitated for only a moment before picking it up. The fabric was soft and carried his scent, a mix of cedarwood and something distinctly him. She quickly stepped out of her restrictive dress and slipped the shirt on, reveling in the way it hung loosely over her body, free of any binding seams. She felt at ease.

Maria crossed to the bed, pulling back the covers before sinking onto the mattress. Her head barely touched the pillow before sleep claimed her, the weight of her fatigue finally giving way to peaceful rest.

TUWSTUWSTUWSTUWS

It felt like only mere seconds before Maria felt a soothing hand rubbing gently at her shoulder. She blinked away the heaviness of sleep, her eyes slowly adjusting to the dimly lit room. The golden glow of the bedside lamp had replaced the afternoon light, and the room was bathed in a cozy snugness. How long had she been asleep?

"Maria," Georg's familiar baritone voice whispered softly, his tone gentle but adamant as he tried to rouse her fully.

"Mmm," Maria hummed, her voice still thick with sleep. "What time is it?"

"Just before dinner," he replied shortly, concern evident in his voice as he sat beside her on the bed. "Are you feeling alright, Maria?"

Maria blinked at him, her mind still catching up. But then she sat up quickly, the realization of the time hitting her like a jolt. "Just before dinner?" she yelped, her hands flying to her mouth in dismay. "Oh, Georg, I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to sleep for so long-"

"Shh…" Georg hushed her soothingly, placing a steadying hand on her arm. "It's okay. You needed the rest."

Maria sighed, the guilt still wrenching at her as she looked at him. "I didn't mean to leave you with everything. I should've been helping."

Georg shook his head, his expression softening. "Liesl told me you weren't feeling well this afternoon," he clarified, his brow furrowing slightly. "She was worried about you."

Maria winced slightly at that, brushing a hand over her face. "I wasn't feeling that bad," she protested lightly, though the memory of her earlier fatigue told a different story. "Just… tired. That's all."

"Tired enough to fall asleep for hours," Georg pointed out gently, though his tone carried no reproach. He reached out to tuck a strand of unruly hair behind her ear, his gaze steady and full of concern. "Maria, you can't push yourself like this. If you're not feeling well, I need you to tell me."

Maria offered him a faint smile, hoping to dispel the worry in his eyes. "I'm fine, Georg. Really. I suppose I just didn't sleep well last night."

Georg's lips twitched into a faint smirk, his hand brushing down her arm. "Well, that might have something to do with someone keeping you up far too late," he teased, his voice dropping into a lower, playful register.

Maria let out a soft laugh, shaking her head as she gave him a look of mock disapproval. "Yes, well, perhaps if you weren't so insistent on staying up so late, I wouldn't be so tired after all."

Georg grinned at her, leaning closer as his gaze dipped briefly to her borrowed attire. "And yet, you know how seeing you in my shirts makes me feel," he murmured, his voice baiting but still laced with warmth.

Maria's smile widened, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer. "Maybe," she whispered, her lips brushing against his ear, "that was the point."

Her kiss was soft at first, but Georg deepened it, his hands sliding around her waist, pulling her even closer into him. His touch was light, affectionate, as he explored the familiar curve of her back, the loose fabric of his shirt bunched slightly beneath his fingers. His hands drifted upward, his touch careful and reverent – until his fingers lightly brushed against her breast.

Maria recoiled instantly, a sharp hiss escaping her lips as she flinched away. Georg froze, his hands falling away as his countenance shifted from playful to alarmed. "Maria," he said hastily, his voice edged with panic, his hands hovering near her without touching her. "What's wrong?"

Maria drew in a slow, shaky breath, her fingers clutching the front of his shirt as she tried to steady herself. "It's… nothing," she managed, her voice tight and unconvincing. Her free hand instinctively pressed lightly against her chest, as though to ward off the lingering sting. "It just – hurt."

"Hurt?" Georg echoed, his brows knitting together as he sat back slightly, his eyes scanning her face for any sign of distress. "Maria, what do you mean? Hurt how?"

Maria hesitated, her cheeks warming as she glanced away. She didn't want to admit it, didn't want to draw attention to something that felt so personal, even if it was just to him. "It's nothing, Georg," she said almost angrily, though her voice held some uncertainty. "Really, I promise it's not a big deal."

Georg's eyes narrowed slightly, his concern deepening. "Maria, we aren't doing this again," he said firmly, though his tone remained sympathetic, "you were in visible pain. That doesn't look like nothing to me."

She sighed, her shoulders sagging under the weight of his steady gaze. "It's just… my breasts," she admitted for the second time that day. "They've been… so sore lately. And sensitive. More than usual."

Georg blinked, trying to solve the mystery Maria was laying out before him. "Sore?" He repeated, his tone shifting to one of quiet understanding. "How long has this been going on?"

Maria fidgeted, her fingers nervously smoothing the fabric of his shirt. "A few days at most, but it has really just been today," she said reluctantly. "At first, I thought it was just the dresses being too tight, but it's more than that. Even the slightest touch today-" she broke off, shaking her head as the memory of the pain flashed through her. "It's just… uncomfortable."

Georg leaned back slightly, his eyes softening as he absorbed her words. "Maria, why didn't you tell me this morning?" he questioned, his voice tinged with both concern and reproach.

"I didn't want to worry you," she replied quietly, still avoiding his gaze as her fingers stayed put on his shirt. "And I thought it would just go away on its own."

He reached out then, his hand cupping her cheek with such care that she finally looked up at him. "Darling, you can tell me anything, no matter how small it seems," he asserted calmly, his thumb brushing lightly over her cheekbone. "Your comfort – your health – matters more to me than anything."

Her heart swelled at his words, though the remaining embarrassment kept her from fully meeting his gaze. "It just feels so silly still," she mumbled. "I mean, of all things to be wrong with me…"

"It's not silly. Not at all," Georg interrupted firmly, shaking his head. "If you're in pain, it's important. And if you're uncomfortable, I want to know so that I can help." He paused, his brows furrowing slightly as his concern deepened again. "Are you sure it's just soreness? Nothing else unusual?"

Maria thought for a moment, her hand unconsciously brushing against her chest again. "It's just tenderness, really. And… well, they've felt a little fuller lately," she admitted hesitantly, her cheeks growing warmer with each word. "But that's it."

Georg studied her for a long moment, his expression unreadable before it softened into something tender. "Maria," he said delicately, "I know you don't want to make a fuss, but if this keeps bothering you – or if it gets worse – you'll tell me, won't you?"

She nodded slowly, the weight of his concern settling over her like a blanket. "I will," Maria said her voice steady as she squeezed his hand. "I promise."

He leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead before pulling her into a gentle embrace. "Let's get you downstairs," he murmured. "But only if you're up to it."

Maria smiled faintly, letting the warmth of his presence soothe her lingering discomfort. "I'm up to it," she replied, though she silently hoped the evening wouldn't require too much energy.

Chapter Text

Week 5-6 – The embryo is now the size of a lentil! And with major organ systems forming, significant process is made in shaping the body structure. By now, a missed cycle often signals pregnancy, as hCG levels rise hastily. Mothers can expect to feel increasingly fatigued and may feel strong aversions to certain foods or smells.

The kitchen was filled with the cheerful clatter of pots and the sizzle of butter melting in a cast-iron skillet. Morning sunlight streamed through the large windows, basking the room in a golden glow and highlighting the organized chaos of Saturday breakfast preparations. Maria stood at the counter, sleeves rolled up and apron tied snugly around her waist, carefully slicing a loaf of fresh bread. She smiled as glanced over her shoulder, watching Brigitta and Liesl argue good-naturedly over how many eggs to crack into the mixing bowl.

Saturday mornings had become a treasured tradition in the von Trapp household. Maria had insisted early in her marriage that the kitchen staff take this one morning off each week, a gesture of appreciation for their hard work. It also gave the family an opportunity to bond over the simple joys of preparing and sharing a meal they had made together. Even with the occasional mishap – like Kurt's infamous attempt to flip pancakes that had nearly ended in disaster – it was always a time filled with laughter and love.

Maria turned back to her task, reaching for a jar of jam to set alongside the bread. The familiar rhythm of the kitchen surrounded her like a warm blanket – the gentle scrap of a whisk against a bowl, the occasional clink of dishes, and the bubbling laughter of the children having fun. Just as she unscrewed the lid of the jar, a rich, unmistakable aroma wafted toward her – the distinct scent of eggs frying on the stove.

She froze mid-motion, the smell hitting her harder than she could have anticipated. Her stomach churned violently, twisting into an unfamiliar knot. Her breath hitched, and she instinctively pressed a hand to her mouth as she recoiled, the sweet smell of the jam in her other hand doing little to combat the overwhelming nausea.

"Mother?" Brigitta's voice cut through the din of the kitchen, laced with concern. She had been standing at the stove, carefully turning the eggs as they sizzled in the pan. Now she had turned fully to face Maria, her brow furrowed. "Are you alright?"

Maria blinked, willing herself to breathe through the sudden wave of nausea. "I-I'm fine," she managed, though her voice wavered slightly. She quickly set the jar of jam down on the counter, her hand now gripping the edge of the counter for support. She glanced toward the stove, where the eggs crackled merrily, and wrinkled her nose. "Are you sure those eggs aren't spoiled?" she asked, unease seeping through her voice.

Liesl then turned from her place at the stove, her brow knitting in confusion. "Spoiled?" she repeated, looking down at the perfectly golden eggs in the skillet. "They seem fine to me, Mother. I just cracked them a few minutes ago."

Maria frowned, her stomach still churning as the smell seemed to cling to the air around her, she tried to subtly move further away. "Well, they certainly don't smell fine," she muttered, more to herself than to anyone else.

"Mother?" Liesl's voice softened as she stepped closer, concern flickering in her eyes. "Are you sure you're alright? You look… pale."

Maria waved a hand dismissively, though she still couldn't bring herself to step any closer to the stove. "Yes, I'm fine, I promise," she assured hastily, forcing a smile that surely looked more like a grimace. "It's probably just me. I must be imagining it."

Just then, the door swung open, and Georg strode into the kitchen, his presence as steady and commanding as always. His casual weekend attire and slightly tousled hair added an air of approachability, though his eyes missed nothing per usual.

"Well, what have we here?" he questioned, surveying the lively scene with a pearly smile. His gaze fell on Maria, who still had one hand resting against her stomach. "And what's going on over there, Maria? You look as though someone has just told you that breakfast has been outlawed."

The children, who had been occupied with their tasks, immediately perked up at their father's entrance. "Father!" Gretl chirped happily, abandoning her post at the table to rush over and wrap her arms around his legs. Her tiny face titled upward, beaming at him.

Georg chuckled, scooping her up with ease and planting a kiss to her forehead. "Good morning, my little Gretl," he cooed warmly, before turning his attention back to Maria. "Now what's all this about?"

Maria groaned inwardly, suppressing the urge to roll her eyes at his dramatic timing. "It's the eggs," she answered, gesturing toward the skillet. "They smell off to me."

Georg raised an eyebrow, his expression a mix of curiosity and amusement as he set Gretl down and approached the stove. He leaned in slightly, sniffing the air with an exaggerated motion. "Hmm," he mused theatrically, his lips twitching. "I hate to disappoint you, my darling, but these eggs smell perfectly fine to me."

"See?" Liesl chimed in, folding her arms and nodding at Maria. "I told you they were fine."

Maria opened her mouth to argue, but another wave of nausea silenced her. She pressed a hand to her stomach and shook her head. "I guess it's just me," she murmured, though her voice was hesitant.

Georg stepped closer, his sharp blue eyes narrowing as he studied her intently. "Just you?" he echoed, his lips twitching into a faint smirk. "Maria, you've never been sensitive to eggs before. This is new."

Maria glared at him, her irritation bubbling to the surface despite herself. "Well, maybe I am today," she shot back, her tone sharper than she intended as she turned back to the counter. She reached for the loaf of bread again, her fingers gripping the knife more firmly than necessary. "Let's not make a fuss over nothing."

Georg raised an eyebrow, his smirk growing ever so slightly. "Not making a fuss," he argued lightly, leaning casually against the counter beside her. "But it's not like you to turn your nose up at breakfast, Maria." His voice carried an edge of teasing, but there was a curiosity in his tone that told her he wasn't about to let it go.

Maria let out a sharp breath, slicing into the loaf with a little more force than needed. "Well, today is the exception," she growled, keeping her focus on the bread. "Not everything has to make sense, Georg."

He tilted his head, studying her with that same analytical look that both infuriated her and endeared her to no end. "It's just… strange, don't you think?" he pressed on, his tone softening slightly but not enough to mask his intrigue. "You've cooked eggs a hundred times, and now suddenly they're unbearable?"

She slammed the knife down on the counter, the sound resonating keenly in the vivacious kitchen. Liesl and Brigitta glimpsed over briefly but quickly returned to their tasks, sensing this was not a moment to intervene.

Maria turned to face Georg fully, her cheeks flushed with frustration. "Georg," she articulated firmly, her voice low but pointed. "I told you. It's nothing. Can we just leave it at that? Please?"

Georg blinked, his smirk faltering as he held up his hands in mock surrender. "Alright, alright," he granted, his tone laced with an attempt at appeasement. "You win. No more questions."

Maria narrowed her eyes at him, as if waiting for him to add some final remark, but he stayed quiet. With a small huff, she turned back to the bread, resuming her slicing with a more deliberate motion.

From the corner of her eye, she caught Georg watching her. His playful demeanor had faded, replaced by something quieter – more thoughtful. It wasn't quite concern, but it was close, as though he were filing away this moment for later examination.

"Georg," she admonished without looking up, her tone carrying a warning edge.

"Yes, my dear?" he replied smoothly, his smirk creeping back.

"Stop staring at me."

"Not staring," he countered lightly, straightening up and brushing invisible dust from his shirt. "Just… observing."

Maria groaned softly, muttering something under her breath that made him chuckle. "Alright," he said again, this time with a little more weight. "No more observing," he allowed, before adding more quietly, "for now."

He then turned toward the table, joining the children as they plated the food and argued over who would carry it to the dining room. Maria watched him for a moment, her irritation slowly dwindling as the hum of the energetic scene carried on. Still, she couldn't shake the feeling that maybe something was wrong with her, maybe she did deserve the scrutiny, albeit annoying.

TUWSTUWSTUWSTUWS

Later that night, Maria found herself curled up on the plush sofa in Georg's study, her legs tucked beneath her, wrapped in one of the woolen blankets she'd snagged from a chair. Her head reclined against the armrest, her eyes half-closed, her breathing slow and measured. The room was quiet, save for the weak crackling of the fire and the occasional sound of Georg turning a page from the armchair nearby.

Georg glanced up from his book, a small smile tugging at his lips as he watched her fight sleep. "Maria," he began, his voice breaking the comfortable silence, "I could barely get you out of bed this morning, and now you're falling asleep on me before the evening is even over."

Maria opened her eyes just enough to send him a look that was part playful annoyance, part resignation. "I'm just tired," she muttered, rolling her eyes for emphasis before burrowing deeper into the sofa. The blanket shifted slightly as she pulled it closer around her shoulders, her voice softening. "It has been a long day."

"Hmm," Georg pondered, marking his place in the book before setting it aside on the table next to him. "A long day, you say? I thought Saturdays were meant to be relaxing. Something about you insisting the staff were let off for a rest and time for the family to bond?"

Maria huffed lightly, her eyes still half-closed. "That's easy for you to say. You weren't in the kitchen the entire morning, refereeing between Louisa and Kurt about who got to whisk the batter."

Georg chuckled at that, leaning back in his chair. "I did hear some shouting, I won't lie," he admitted. "It sounded quite spirited."

"Spirited is one word for it," Maria mumbled, a faint smile tugging at her lips. "I call it exhausting."

Georg let the silence settle for a moment, his gaze lingering on her as she curled more tightly into the sofa. "And what about this afternoon?" he questioned teasingly, though his tone hinted that he was treading at more. "You barely made it through our walk with the children. Marta nearly dragged you along by the hand."

Maria cracked on eye open, giving him another look. "She was eager to show me the spot she and Gretl found by the stream," she contended, her voice defensive but tinged with fondness. "And for your information, I did just fine."

"Oh, certainly, darling," Georg conceded, but his voice betrayed his short-lived surrender. "You were the picture of energy, stumbling over roots and leaning on every available tree for support."

Maria whined softly, closing her eyes again. "Georg, are you going to lecture me about taking it easy? Because I've already had enough from Liesl this week."

He smirked, leaning forward slightly in his chair. "I wouldn't dream of lecturing you, darling," he countered smoothly. "I'm merely pointing out that you seem… different lately."

Maria stiffened slightly under the blanket but didn't respond right away. She hoped he'd let it go, that he'd chalk her fatigue up to nothing more than a busy week. But Georg was nothing if not persistent.

"You've been tired a lot lately," he continued, his voice still light but carrying an undertone of concern. "It's not just today or this morning with the eggs. It's been all week, if not more, hasn't it?"

"I'm fine," Maria asserted swiftly, her tone firm but not unkind. She adjusted the blanket around her shoulders again, keeping her gaze fixed on the flickering fire. "Everyone gets tired sometimes. It's normal."

"Normal?" Georg repeated, his brows arching. "Maria, you're one of the most energetic people I have ever met. I've seen you wrangle seven children through thunderstorms and still look as though you could climb a mountain afterward. And now, all of the sudden, you're exhausted by midday?"

Maria sighed, pulling the blanket up to her chin as though it could shield her from his scrutiny. "I'm just having an off week, Georg," she said softly. "That's all."

Georg studied her for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Finally, he sat back in his chair, though the thoughtful look in his eyes didn't fade. "If you say so," he relented quietly, the teasing edge in his voice gone. "But something tells me there's more to it than that."

Maria didn't respond immediately, unsure of how to deflect his suspicion without sounding more defensive. She knew he was only worried about her, but even so, his observations made her feel strangely self-conscious.

Georg broke the silence after a moment, his tone lighter this time. "You know," he said, pressing on with a grin, "it's not like you to be so secretive. Should I be worried that you're hiding something from me?"

Maria's fingers tightened around the edges of the blanket, her posture rigid. "Hiding something?" she reverberated, her voice carefully neutral. "Don't be ridiculous, Georg. What could I possibly have to hide?"

His smile eased, but his gaze remained steady, studying her in that way that always made her feel as though he could see straight through her. "Oh, I don't know," he carried on, leaning further back in his chair. "You've been tired, aching, and then there was the eggs this morning…"

Maria felt her stomach tighten at the mention of the morning's incident, but she said nothing, letting him continue.

He delayed his words, his gaze flicking to her face, searching for any clues on how she might react to his next line. "I mean… it could be nothing," he tried cautiously, his voice gentler now. "But it's just that… you've never been like this before."

"Georg," she heaved, trying to keep her voice from wavering, "I told you, I'm just tired. That is all it is, nothing more."

He nodded slowly, though the crease in his brow deepened. "Maybe," he murmured, almost to himself. Then, after a pause that felt like it stretched an eternity, he looked at her again. "But… just humor me for a moment. Could it be that you might be… pregnant?"

The word landed softly between them, yet it felt as though it pulsated throughout the room, refusing to disperse without a fight. Maria's breath seemed to stop altogether, and her cheeks flushed a deep pink. She sat up straighter, clutching the blanket around her in both comfort and protection.

"Pregnant?" she repeated, her voice sharp with disbelief. "No, of course not. That's not it."

Georg tilted his head, his expression cautious but not entirely convinced. "Are you sure?" he prodded gently. "Because that would explain-"

"No," she cut him off, her tone firmer now, though she looked at the ceiling avoiding his gaze. "I'm sure. It's not that. I would know."

Georg leaned back slightly, his eyes narrowing in thought. "Alright," he conceded softly, though his voice still held some doubt. "If you're sure…"

"I am," Maria said quickly, her tone edged with defensiveness. She busied herself with adjusting the blanket yet again, trying to ignore the fluttering sensation in her stomach as a wall of emotions hit her.

Georg considered her for a long moment, his eyes softening as her words clung to the air. Slowly, he stood, crossing the small distance to the sofa. Without a word, he sat down beside her, the cushions dipping under his weight, and gently reached out to gather her into his arms.

Maria stiffened briefly, but when his arms wrapped securely around her, the tenderness of his embrace melted her resolve. "Georg," she whispered, her voice trembling slightly, "you don't have to-"

"I do," he interrupted softly, resting his chin atop her hair. "You're upset, Maria. Let me be here for you."

Maria felt her chest tighten at his words, her fortification slowly crumbling as the warmth of his embrace enveloped her. She let out a shaky breath and closed her eyes, sinking deeper into the comfort of his arms. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat against her ear was calming, grounding her in the moment. For a while, neither of them spoke. The hiss of the fire filled the silence, and Maria allowed herself to simply be– to feel the security of his presence, the strength of his love.

Georg didn't press her. He just held her, his hand gently stroking her back in soothing circles, his other arm wrapped firmly around her. The weight of her fears, which had felt so overwhelming moments ago, seemed to lessen slightly, though they still loitered at the edges of her mind.

After a long pause, Georg's voice broke the stillness, soft and careful. "Maria," he murmured, bending his head so he could look down at her. "If you were… pregnant, would that really be such a bad thing?"

The question was gentle, almost hesitant, but it struck something deep within her. Maria's eyes opened, and she pulled back just enough to look at him. Her hands tightened against his chest as her gaze met his, her heart pounding.

"No," she established after a moment, her voice barely above a whisper. "Of course not. You know I would love nothing more than to have a baby with you." She paused, her gaze falling to her lap. "It's just…"

"Just what?" he prompted slowly, his hands coming to rest on hers that were shaking slightly, stilling them.

She bit her lip, the weight of her thoughts pressing hard on her chest. "It still feels so… early," she confessed finally, her voice wobbling slightly.

Georg frowned, tilting his head as confusion flickered across his face. "Early?" he repeated, his tone puzzled. "Maria, we've been married for nearly a year. I would hardly call that rushing into things."

Maria looked up at him, her expression conflicted, her brows knitting together as her emotions churned. "I know that," she concurred softly. "But it's not really about us. It's about… everything else."

"What else?" he asked, his tone full of patience but tinged with that familiar curiosity.

She paused, the memory of whispered gossip and sidelong glances flashing vividly through her mind. "People already had so much to say when we got married," she explained quietly, her voice full of emotion. "About how quickly it all happened. I just… don't want to give them more to talk about. I've told you this before."

Georg's arms tightened around her as he leaned back, letting her rest fully against him. His voice, when he spoke, was steady but full of warmth. "Maria," he began delicately, "we've talked about this, yes. And I told you then – just as I'll tell now – what anyone else thinks doesn't matter. Not to me. Not to us."

Maria's breath snagged, and she curled further into his embrace, tears starting to well in her eyes. "I know it shouldn't," she lamented, her voice breaking slightly. "But it still feels like it does. Sometimes, I can still hear the whispers when I go into town, or I see the way people look at me. It's as though they're waiting for me to make some mistake."

Georg pressed a soft kiss to her temple, his hand stroking her arm lullingly. "Maria," he breathed, his voice unwavering, "you've never made a mistake – not with us, not with the children, not with anything. And even if you had, it wouldn't be anyone else's business."

Her tears slipped free then, warm against her cheeks, and she let them fall, her face buried against his chest. "It's not just that," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "I love what we have, Georg. I love the quiet moments, the time we spend together. Just us. And I'm scared that if we have a baby now, we'll lose that."

Georg startled slightly, surprised by her words. He pulled back just enough to see her face, his hands lightly brushing her tears away. "Why didn't you tell me you felt this way?" he asked gently, his tone vaguely oozing with shock.

She let out a shaky breath, looking down at her lap as though she couldn't meet his gaze. "I didn't know how," she admitted quietly. "It sounds so selfish, doesn't it? To be worried about something so… trivial."

"It doesn't sound selfish at all," Georg clarified, his voice firm but tender. "You're sharing something important. That's not trivial."

Maria hesitated, tears pooling in her eyes again. "It's just… this past year with you has been wonderful," she said, her voice trembling. "Learning how to be your wife, getting to know you in ways I never imagined… I don't want to lose that, Georg. I don't want us to lose that."

Georg's expression softened further, and he leaned forward to gently rest his forehead against hers. "Maria," he soothed, his voice low and reassuring, "we're not going to lose us. Having a baby wouldn't take away what we have – it would only add to it."

She pulled back slightly, shaking her head. "I don't know," she whispered. "I'm not sure I'm ready. I'm not sure I'll ever feel ready."

"And that's okay," Georg said after a moment, his tone thoughtful. "Maria, there are some things in life you can never truly feel ready for. No amount of preparation can make you certain. You just… take the leap and figure it out as you go."

Her lips quivered as she looked at him, her tears on the verge of becoming sobs now. "But what if I can't?" she asked softly, stuttering slightly. "What if I'm not enough?"

Georg cupped her face in his hands, his thumbs continuing to brush away her lasting tears. "Maria," he said firmly, his gaze locking intensely on hers. "You already are enough. You've been more than enough ever since the day you came into my life. The way you've cared for the children, the way you've loved me… you've shown me over and over again that you're capable of anything."

She sniffled, her hands still trembling as they rested on his forearms. "But a baby is so different, Georg. It's not just about us anymore. It's about something new, someone who would depend on us completely."

"I know," he replied softly. "And that's exactly why it would be wonderful. Because it would be us, Maria. It wouldn't take away what we've built together – it would be an extension of it. A new piece of our love."

Maria closed her eyes, letting his words wash over her as her breathing began to temper. For a moment, she said nothing, simply leaning into his touch, her heart both heavy and full. "You make it sound so easy," she muttered finally, her voice small.

"It's not easy," Georg admitted, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "But nothing worth having ever is. And, Maria… if it's not time yet, that's okay. We'll wait. We'll figure it out together. But please, don't carry these fears alone."

Her lips curved into a shy, shaky smile as she stared into his eyes. "I'll try," she whispered. "I'll try to stop being afraid."

Georg smiled warmly, leaning forward to press a kiss to her forehead. "That's all I ask," he promised. "One step at a time. We'll face it together."

Maria let herself be drawn back into his embrace, the weight of her emotions easing as she rested against his chest. In his arms, the world felt a little less daunting, and her fears began to feel a little less insurmountable.

TUWSTUWSTUWSTUWS

The early morning light streamed softly through the bedroom windows, casting golden streaks over the neatly made bed. The villa was still, save for the faint sounds of the children stirring down the hall and the muffled clatter of staff beginning their day in the kitchen. Maria stood before her wardrobe, tying her dressing gown loosely around her waist, her fingers moving absentmindedly over the sash. The hum of routine filled the air, but her thoughts felt far from ordinary.

It had been days since Georg's question – "Could it be that you might be… pregnant?" – but it still echoed in her mind with startling clarity. At the time, she had dismissed it, brushing off his words with a mixture of defensiveness and disbelief. But now, as she moved through the motions of each day, she couldn't seem to shake the lingering weight of his suggestion.

She had replayed their conversation countless times, mulling over the possibility he had so gently but firmly placed over her. The signs were there, weren't they? Her constant fatigue, the way her stomach had churned at the smell of the eggs among other new things, the aches she found in unexpected places of her body. But every time her mind edged toward the conclusion, she pushed it away, convincing herself it wasn't that. It couldn't be that.

"It's just stress," she had told herself more than once, clutching at the explanation like a lifeline. You've had so much to adjust to this year. It's natural to feel off now and then. And yet, no amount of rationalizing had silenced the small voice in the back of her mind, the one that whispered quietly but insistently: What if he's right?

Now, as Maria reached for a fresh pair of stockings for her wardrobe, her hand stilled mid-motion. Her brow furrowed as her eyes caught on the nearly empty row where her neatly folded handkerchiefs usually sat. Her gaze shifted slightly, her thoughts settling on a detail she had overlooked in her routines for weeks now. One of those handkerchiefs had always been tucked into her bag at the beginning of her cycle – just in case.

But it hadn't been used.

Maria sucked in a quiet gasp, her hand hovering over the drawer. She pulled it open slowly, her gaze scanning the contents as her mind worked frantically to piece everything together. Her other hand moved instinctively to her bag sitting inside the wardrobe, opening it to confirm what she already suspected. Nothing.

Her stomach twisted, and her chest tightened as the nagging voice grew louder. When was the last time? She tried to remember, counting back over the days and weeks. The memory of packing for a quick trip to Vienna, one for Georg's work that he had decided to bring her along to a few weeks ago, flashed vividly in her mind – she'd packed everything carefully, making sure nothing was forgotten. But this… this, she hadn't needed.

Maria pressed her hand to the edge of the wardrobe, steadying herself as her pulse quickened. The pieces of the puzzle began to shift, aligning themselves into a picture she couldn't ignore any longer. Could I have missed it? She thought, her heart racing. No, it's not possible. I would have noticed. Wouldn't I?

Her breathing grew shallower as the truth began to solidify. The fatigue, the nausea, the tears – everything she had brushed aside as stress or adjustment felt glaringly obvious. How could I have missed this?

Her hand moved to her abdomen, pressing lightly against the fabric of her dressing gown. The thought hit her fully then, not with the sharpness of sudden realization but with the quiet certainty of something she had subconsciously known was inevitable.

I'm pregnant.

Georg was right. Of course, he was.

Maria straightened slowly, her breath coming in shallow bursts as her thoughts tumbled into chaos. I'm pregnant. The words felt foreign and yet undeniable, filling her chest with a mix of emotions so intense she could barely make sense of them.

Her mind continued to race, trying to reconcile the enormity of what she now was accepting. I'm pregnant, she thought once again, the words both somehow grounding yet dizzying. She closed her eyes, her breath unsteady, trying to gather herself.

The sound of hurried footsteps broke through her spiraling thoughts, followed by the sudden burst of the bedroom door swinging open. "Mother!" Gretl's voice rang out cheerfully, her small figure bounding into the room like a whirlwind of energy.

Maria flinched, startled out of her reverie. She quickly wiped at her cheeks, forcing a smile as she turned to her youngest daughter. "Gretl," she reprimanded, her tone sharper than she intended. "How many times have I told you to knock before coming in?"

Gretl blinked up at her, seemingly unbothered by the admonishment. "I'm sorry, Mother," she apologized with a sheepish grin that showed she wasn't all that sorry. "But breakfast is almost ready, and Father said to come and fetch you!"

Maria sighed, smoothing her dressing gown as she turned back to the wardrobe. She placed a hand briefly against her temple, trying to mask her lingering turmoil. "Alright, darling. But next time, remember to knock, please?"

"Okay!" Gretl chirped, grabbing Maria's hand and tugging it gently. "Come on, everyone's waiting!"

As Maria's gaze remained fixed on the wardrobe, her thoughts threatened to unravel again. But with Gretl looking up at her so expectantly, she forced herself to set her concerns aside. She couldn't let them show – not now. "Let me get dressed first," she said, giving Gretl a small smile. "Go on, I'll be down in a moment."

Gretl pouted briefly but nodded, skipping out of the room and leaving the door ajar behind her. Maria reached into the wardrobe, her hands trembling slightly as she reached for a simple, flowy dress. She moved through the motions mechanically, smoothing the fabric and pinning her longer hair with quick efficiency. As she glanced at herself in the mirror, she took a deep breath, willing herself to appear calm and composed. You can do this, she thought, the words a quiet mantra.

By the time Maria descended the staircase, her expression was serene, though her heart still beat unevenly. The dining room was already lively with chatter, the children speaking animatedly over their breakfast plates. As she entered, Georg rose from his chair near the head of the table, his sharp eyes immediately finding her.

"Good morning," he said warmly, stepping forward to greet her with an ease that made her heart ache. He leaned in to press a soft kiss to her cheek, his hand resting lightly at her waist. "You're even later than usual," he remarked, a faint note of teasing in his tone.

Maria returned the kiss, her smile fleeting but affectionate. "Don't worry," she replied lightly. "Gretl made sure I wouldn't miss breakfast." She shot a glance at the little girl, who beamed at her from her seat, giggling.

Georg chuckled, his gaze lingering on her for a moment longer than usual. "Well, that's a relief," he murmured, his voice low enough for only her to hear. As he guided her to her chair, he added softly, "You look lovely this morning."

"Thank you," Maria granted, her voice softer now. She settled into her seat, her hands resting over the edge of the table as she tried to focus on the energetic breakfast conversation. The children were high-spirited, chattering about schoolwork and playful plans, but their voices seemed distant to her ears.

As the meal progressed, Maria found her thoughts drifting more and more. Georg's question from a few nights ago lingered in her mind as usual, mingling now with the realization that had struck her that morning. She knew she needed to act, but the weight of what lay ahead – the visit to the doctor, the possibility of confirmation – pressed against her like a stone. But I have to know, she thought, her resolve hardening even as anxiety gnawed at her deeply.

She also knew she needed to tell Georg, but she couldn't – not until she was certain. It wasn't just the fear of his reaction; deep down, Maria knew Georg would meet the news with love and support. But the idea of speaking the words aloud before she had solid proof felt like stepping onto unsteady ground. What if she was wrong? What if they had both simply misunderstood her body's signals? The thought of raising his hopes – or even her own – only to have them dashed felt unbearable.

And then there was something else, a quieter, more private fear she couldn't yet bring herself to share. She wanted this moment to be her own, at least for now. To confront the reality of her suspicions in solitude, without the weight of anyone else's expectations or reactions. For so much of her life, Maria had learned to stand strong on her own, to find her footing before leaning on anyone else. This, she told herself, was no different. Let me be sure first. Let me process it, alone, before I bring him into this.

She sighed softly, her thoughts heavy as she smoothed the fabric of her dress. It wasn't that she didn't trust Georg—she trusted him with her whole heart. But there was something about the act of walking into that doctor's office alone, about hearing the truth spoken aloud, that felt like something she needed to face herself. Only then could she truly share it with him, whole and certain.

Finally, she set her fork down, clearing her throat softly to gain the family's attention. "I think I'll head into Salzburg with you and Franz this morning," she announced to the children, keeping her tone casual. "There are a few things I need to pick up."

The announcement was met with a chorus of approval from the children. "Presents!" Kurt exclaimed, his grin mischievous. "We'll make sure we don't peek, Mother!"

Maria laughed airily, shaking her head. "No peeking," she warned lightly, though her heart wasn't entirely in the banter.

Georg, however, raised a brow, his attention fixed on her. "Shopping?" he asked, his tone measured. "For what, might I ask?"

Maria hesitated only briefly, carefully smoothing her expression into a small, practiced smile. "Well," she began lightly, "someone has a birthday coming up soon."

A flicker of understanding crossed Georg's face, and his lips curved into a wry smile. "Ah," he said, nodding slowly. "I suppose I can't argue with that."

He took a sip of his coffee, but his gaze remained on her, watchful. As Maria stood to clear her plate, he followed suit, his chair scraping harshly against the floor. As the children hurried out, their laughter echoing down the hall, Georg stepped closer, his hand coming to rest gingerly on her arm.

"Maria," he prodded, his voice lower now, his eyes searching her face. "Are you sure that's all you're going for?"

Her stomach flipped, and for a moment, she thought she might falter under the weight of his gaze. But she forced herself to maintain her composure, placing her free hand gently over his. "Of course," she assured nonchalantly, her tone changeless though her heart pounded. "It's soon to be your birthday, after all. What else would I be doing?"

He studied her for a moment longer, his expression unreadable, "Hmm," he let out after a pause, his gaze lingering. "You're not exactly the best liar, you know."

Maria's breath hitched, and for a brief second, she thought he might press further. But then his lips twitched into the faintest of smiles, though a hint of doubt remained in his eyes. "Alright," he said finally, his tone softer now. "But don't overdo it."

"I won't," Maria promised, managing to keep her voice steady as she stepped past him. Her steps quickened as she left the room, her heart pounding harder with every stride. She felt the weight of his gaze on her back, and her mind raced as she crossed the hall. I'll need to be more convincing, she thought grimly, steeling herself for the day ahead.

As the sound of the children's chatter drifted toward her from the waiting car, Maria's thoughts shifted back to the doctor she planned to visit. She had told herself it was necessary— I just need to be sure —but the idea of the visit still unsettled her. She hadn't told Georg the truth about why she was going, and guilt gnawed at the edges of her resolve. But she knew she couldn't bring herself to share her suspicions without confirmation. Not yet, she thought as she stepped into the sunlight. Not until I'm certain.

TUWSTUWSTUWSTUWS

The doctor's office was modest, tucked into a quiet street lined with climbing ivy and small flower boxes. Maria hesitated at the door, her fingers hovering over the brass handle. She glanced around, half-expecting to see a familiar face emerge from the nearby shops or cafes. Stop it, she chastised herself silently. No one is watching. You're here for yourself, for answers.

Steeling herself, she pushed open the door and stepped inside. The air was cool and hushed, the vague scent of antiseptic mingling with the sweetness of fresh flowers arranged in a vase on the receptionist's desk. A kindly woman greeted her with a welcoming smile, her gray hair pulled into a neat bun.

"Good morning," the receptionist greeted warmly. "Do you have an appointment?"

Maria hesitated, her cheeks flushed slightly. "No, I don't," she admitted, her voice quieter than she intended. "But I was hoping to see Dr. Steiner, if he has a moment."

The receptionist nodded, her smile reassuring. "He should be able to fit you in shortly. Please, take a seat."

Maria sank into one of the chairs, her hands gripping her handbag tightly as she waited. Her heart felt like it was racing, the quiet ticking of the clock on the wall marking every agonizing second. She glanced around the room, her gaze catching on the small, framed portraits of mothers with their newborns that adorned the walls. The sight sent a fresh wave of emotions crashing over her, and she looked away quickly, her throat tightening.

"Baroness von Trapp?" the receptionist called gracefully, pulling Maria from her thoughts. She looked up to see the older woman gesturing toward a door just beyond the desk. "Dr. Steiner will see you now."

Maria nodded, forcing a courteous smile as she stood. Her legs felt unsteady as she followed the receptionist's directions, stepping into the small examination room where an easygoing man in what looked to be his fifties awaited her. His white coat was slightly rumpled, his spectacles perched on the bridge of his nose as he glanced up from a notebook.

"Baroness von Trapp," he addressed enthusiastically, rising to shake her hand. "It's a pleasure to see you. Please, have a seat."

Maria settled into the chair across from him, her hands twisting in her lap as she struggled to find her voice. "Thank you," she said softly. "I-I appreciate you seeing me on such short notice."

"Not at all," Dr. Steiner replied, his voice cheerful. "Now, what brings you in today?"

Maria paused, her fingers fidgeting nervously. "I…" She took a deep breath, gathering her courage. "I've been feeling… different lately. Tired, a little nauseous at times. And… I've missed my cycle."

The doctor nodded, his expression calm and professional as he reached for a notepad. "I see," he said. "Have you experienced any other symptoms? Sensitivity to smells, perhaps? Tender breasts? Changes in appetite?"

"Yes," Maria admitted, her cheeks warming slightly. "All of those."

Dr. Steiner smiled gently, setting down his pen. "Well, based on what you've described, it sounds very likely that you're expecting. But let's do a quick examination to confirm."

Maria nodded, her heart pounding as she followed his instructions. The examination was brief, the doctor's manner kind and unobtrusive. When he finished, he sat back, removing his glasses and offering her a comforting smile.

"Well," he said, his voice light, "I can confirm that you are indeed pregnant. Congratulations, Baroness."

The word hung in the air, both expected and yet somehow still shocking. Maria blinked, her lips parting as she struggled to process what she had just heard. "I… I see," she managed finally, her voice barely above a whisper.

Dr. Steiner adjusted his glasses as he settled back into his chair, the kind smile never leaving his face. "Now," he started, "I know this may feel overwhelming, but it's important to take things one step at a time. In these early weeks, you can expect to feel increasingly tired, as your body is working hard to support the baby's development. That fatigue is completely normal, so try to rest as much as you can."

Maria nodded faintly, her hands twisting the strap of her bag as she listened.

"You might also continue to notice some changes in your appetite or aversions to certain foods," he continued. "And it's not uncommon to experience sensitivity in your breasts or an increasing amount of nausea as the first trimester goes on. These symptoms usually settle after a few months, but if anything feels severe, don't hesitate to reach out."

"Of course," Maria murmured, her voice barely audible. She was trying to focus on his words, but her thoughts kept drifting. The reality of her situation was pressing down on her, making it hard to concentrate.

Dr. Steiner leaned forward slightly, his tone delicate but encouraging. "The most important thing right now is to take care of yourself. Eat well, rest, and listen to your body. You're healthy, and everything is progressing just as it should. We'll schedule a follow-up in about four weeks to check on how things are developing."

Maria nodded again, her lips curving into a small, polite smile, though it didn't quite reach her eyes.

The doctor hesitated for a moment, his gaze softening as he studied her thoughtfully. "You know," he said, his tone turning more wistful. "I remember when Agathe came to see me during her pregnancies. Georg always tried to make it the best he could with the war and all, always wanting to be involved. A wonderful father, even then." He chuckled softly, leaning back in his chair. "Hopefully, Georg will be able to make it next time. Be sure to send him my congratulations."

The words dropped into Maria's heart like a pebble into still water, sending ripples of unease. She made do with a scant nod, murmuring a weak, "I will," but her throat tightened, and her smile faltered.

The doctor's tone was warm and well-meaning, but as Maria left the office and stepped into the bright Salzburg morning, the comment replayed in her mind with a different weight. Agathe. Her name lingered, unspoken but loud in Maria's thoughts, and with it came a familiar pang of doubt.

She made her way to Franz, who was waiting by a shop nearby where she had exited the car, hoping he didn't notice her little detour. As the door of the car closed behind her, she sank into the seat, her hands trembling slightly as they gripped her bag. The doctor's words swirled in her mind: "Georg always tried to make it the best he could… always wanting to be involved. A wonderful father, even then."

Maria palmed her stomach with one hand, the other resting over her mouth, her emotions more than overwhelming. She didn't doubt Georg's love or devotion – she never had – but the comparison felt sharp, like a shadow she couldn't escape. Agathe had been the perfect wife and mother, a woman of elegance and grace who had shared so many years, so many memories, with Georg. And now Maria found herself stepping into a role only Agathe had ever filled for Georg, carrying his child just as she had.

Will I ever measure up? The question echoed in her mind, stirring up a storm of insecurities. She thought of the whispers she still heard in town, the sideways glances that followed her when she walked through the streets. She's so different from Agathe, they said. It happened so fast.

The tears came unbidden, slipping down her cheeks as she stared out the window. She had thought the doctor's confirmation would bring her peace, that knowing for certain would help her feel more grounded, more excited. But instead, she felt more adrift, her emotions a tangled mess of joy, fear, and doubt.

Maria wiped at her cheeks, taking a shaky breath as the familiar scenery of Salzburg blurred past her. You're being ridiculous, she scolded herself silently. Georg loves you. He chose you. That should be enough.

But the nagging doubt refused to leave. The ghost of Agathe, though unintentional, felt omnipresent, a quiet reminder of the shoes Maria feared she could never fully fill.

The villa wasn't far now, and as the car approached, Maria straightened slightly, forcing herself to breathe deeply. One step at a time, she thought, clutching the words like a lifeline. One step at a time.

She placed a hand lightly over her stomach again, closing her eyes for a brief moment. The child she carried wasn't just a continuation of Georg's life—it was a part of her, too. A new beginning. A piece of their love.

Still, as the car turned down the path leading home, the uncertainty lingered. Maria braced herself, knowing she would have to tell Georg soon. But for now, she needed to steady her heart, to quiet the doubts that had grown louder in the wake of the doctor's well-meaning words.

TUWSTUWSTUWSTUWS

The villa had finally become quiet again, the buzz of the day long faded into the stillness of night. Moonlight streamed serenely through the curtains of their bedroom, casting a silvery glow over the room. Maria lay on her side, her hands tucked beneath the pillow as she stared out at the shadows dancing on the walls. The rhythmic sound of Georg's breathing beside her was steady and soothing, but her heart raced unevenly in her chest.

She had spent the entire day rehearsing what she would say, crafting the words carefully in her mind. And yet, now that the moment was here, her courage felt as fragile as glass. She turned slightly, glancing at Georg's profile in the dim light. His face was relaxed, the faintest hint of a smile lingering at the corners of his mouth.

"Georg?" she said softly, her voice breaking the silence.

He stirred, turning his head slightly toward her. "Hmm?" His voice was low, laced with sleep.

Maria hesitated, her heart pounding. Just say it, she urged herself. It's simple. Three words. But the weight of the moment pressed down on her, rendering her silent.

Georg opened one eye, his brow lifting as he looked at her. "What is it, love?" he asked, his voice warm but groggy.

"I…" Maria began, her words faltering. She glanced away, biting her lip. "It's nothing," she spoke quickly, forcing a small smile. "I didn't mean to wake you."

Georg hummed softly, his eyes drifting closed again. "Maria," he murmured as he reached out to place a warm hand on her arm, his voice becoming more drowsy as he fought sleep, "you know you can tell me anything."

Maria smiled faintly at his words, but her heart ached with the weight of what she couldn't bring herself to say. She laid back against the pillow, her thoughts swirling as she stared up at the ceiling. Minutes ticked by, the silence punctuated only by Georg's soft, even breaths. Her resolve warred with her fear, each one gaining and losing ground in turn.

"Georg?" she tried again, her voice tentative.

He stirred slightly, letting out a soft groan as he turned onto his side, facing her. "Yes, Maria?" he said, his voice tinged with a hint of groggy impatience. His brow furrowed, and he opened one eye again to glance at her. "What is it now?"

Maria's heart skipped at the faint annoyance in his tone, and she hesitated, biting her lip. "I…I just…" she stammered, her words faltering under his sleepy gaze.

He let out a sigh, rubbing a hand over his face as he tried to push back the haze of sleep. "Maria, if you've got something to say, just say it," he pushed, his voice warm but slightly edged with exasperation.

"I – never mind," she sputtered quickly, shaking her head. "It's fine. Forget I said anything."

Georg sighed, but this time it was softer, less annoyed. Shifting closer, he slid an arm around her waist and pulled her gently against him. "Then go to sleep, love," he yawned, his tone lightening as his fingers brushed soothingly against her arm. "Whatever it is can wait."

Maria let herself relax against him, savoring the warmth and steadiness of his embrace. But even as her body stilled, her mind raced on. Time slipped by in silence until she couldn't bear it any longer.

"Georg," she whispered again.

This time, he didn't respond, his breathing deep and even. He had drifted back into sleep.

Maria moved up his body, her eyes fixed on his peaceful face. She reached out, her fingers lightly tracing the lines of his chest, as though the act of touching him would give her courage. Her heart pounded as she took a deep breath.

"I'm pregnant," she whispered, the words spilling out into the quiet.

Georg shifted slightly, his brow furrowing as her words pierced the edge of his dreams. "What?" he muttered, voice thick with drowsiness.

Maria's breath hitched, but she settled in closer. "Georg, I'm pregnant," she repeated, her voice trembling, her emotions already starting to rise.

His eyes opened slowly, blinking against the dim light as her words began to register. You're… what?" he asked, his voice hoarse and tinged with disbelief

"I'm pregnant," Maria said for the third time, her hand shaking as it came to rest on his arm. "I went to the doctor today. You were right."

Georg stared at her, his mind still trying to catch up. The words hung in the air, heavy with significance, until finally, his lips parted. "You're… Maria." His voice softened, his expression shifting into one of awe. "You're pregnant? Really?"

"I am," she affirmed, tears now pooling in her eyes. "I wanted to tell you earlier, but… I didn't know how."

Georg pushed himself up slightly, his hand reaching out to cup her face. "Maria," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "That's… that's incredible."

"You're not upset, are you?" she urged, her voice continuing to waver. "Even if you already knew…"

"Upset?" Georg let out a soft laugh, shaking his head. "Maria, how could I be upset? I didn't know, not really. But I hoped. And now…" His voice trailed off as his lips curved into a smile. "Now it's real."

Maria let out a shaky breath, relief washing over her. "I was so scared," she admitted, her tears spilling over. "I didn't know what you'd think. I know we both wanted this eventually, but still…" She trailed off, the words dying on her tongue. "I mean, you do already have seven children…"

Georg tilted his head, his brow lifting slightly. "Ah, correction," he said firmly but with warmth. "We have seven children."

Maria's lips twitched into a faint, tearful smile. "We have seven children," she repeated tenderly, her voice catching on the weight of her emotions.

Georg leaned closer, his hands landing on the sides her face gently, his fingers catching her falling tears. "And why stop at seven when we can have more?" he teased, his tone playful, a grin tugging at his lips.

Maria let out a soft, watery laugh despite herself, before grimacing as more tears leaked out of her eyes. "I'm being serious, Georg," she whined, a small hiccup making its way up her chest.

His smile widened, his expression growing more earnest as he studied her face. "And so am I, Maria," he confided gently but firmly. "I've never been more serious about anything in my life."

She exhaled shakily, her fingers fidgeting with the dark, course hairs on his chest. "It's just… this feels so overwhelming," she revealed, her lips trembling. "I was scared you might think it's too much. That maybe you'd feel-"

"Feel what?" Georg interrupted softly, his tone unshakable. "That I already have everything I could ever want in you and the children? That I'm now even luckier because we're adding to our family? Maria, how could I feel anything but overjoyed?"

Maria looked in his eyes, her tears glistening in the moonlight. "You're really happy about this?" she asked, her voice fragile.

"Of course I am," he said without hesitation, his hand moving to rest lightly over hers. "This is our baby, Maria. Another piece of our life together. How could I not be happy?"

She bit her lip, her gaze falling to their joined hands. "I didn't know if you'd want to start over again," she unveiled quietly. "With a baby, I mean."

Georg's smile was alight with what could only be joy, lifting her hand to press a kiss to her knuckles. "Maria," he said warmly, "every step of this journey with you has been worth it. And this – this new chapter – it's not different. I'll cherish every moment."

Maria let out a shaky sigh, her heart swelling at his words. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice filled with an array of emotions.

"Thank you," Georg said, his tone teasing again. "And is this, by chance, my birthday gift that you so desperately needed to get this morning, hmm?"

Maria laughed softly, shaking her head. "Yes," she admitted, her voice lighter now. "Happy early birthday, Georg."

He leaned in to kiss her, his lips insistent but tender against hers. When they parted, he studied her face again, his brow furrowing slightly. "What is still bothering you, darling?"

Maria hesitated, her smile fading slightly as she shifted under his gaze. "It's nothing," she said quickly, looking down.

Georg grabbed her chin back, moving it back to face him, his expression patient but firm. "Maria," he said softly, "you know I hate when you do that. Tell me."

She sighed, her shoulders sagging slightly. "It's just… when I went to the doctor," she started hesitantly, "he mentioned… Agathe." Her voice wavered as she said the name, her hands clasping firmly together behind Georg's neck. "He talked about how you used to come with her to appointments, how wonderful you were with her."

Georg's expression softened instantly, his hands tightening around her forearms. "And that upset you?" he asked gently.

"It didn't upset me," Maria said hastily, though her voice trembled. "It just… it made me feel like I'm stepping into her shadow again. Like no matter what I do, I'll never measure up."

Georg pulled her closer, wrapping an arm securely around her waist. "Maria," he said firmly but gingerly, "you are not in her shadow, you never have been and never will be. Agathe was a part of my past, yes. But you are my present, my future, and everything I could ever want. There's no comparison."

Maria's tears returned, spilling down her cheeks silently. "I don't know the first thing about babies," she whispered, reluctant to let the thought out, but feeling the need to share all her worries now. "What if I make mistakes?"

"We will make mistakes," Georg said good-naturedly, pressing a kiss to her temple. "But that's just a part of being a parent. And you won't be doing it alone, Maria. We'll figure it out together, just like we've figured out everything else."

She let out a tearful sigh, leaning in to squeeze him tight. "You always know what to say," she murmured.

"That's because I know you," he countered, his voice warm. "And I know you're already an incredible mother. I have no doubt you will continue to be. This baby will be so loved, is already so loved, Maria – just like you are."

Maria closed her eyes, her heart finally steadying as she nestled against him. "I love you, Georg," she whispered, her voice still full of emotion.

"I love you too," he affirmed, holding her tightly. His hand smoothed over her back in gentle circles, grounding her in his warmth and steady presence.

Maria let out another soft sigh, her heart finally beginning to lose its heaviness. "Even when I'll be all swollen and waddling around like a duck?" she teased, her tone laced with faint humor. "And even more emotional than I am now?" She paused for a moment, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "And – heaven forbid – I start craving the strangest things at the most inconvenient times?"

Georg chuckled, the sound low but reverberating around the quiet room. He pulled back slightly, just enough to look into her eyes. "Even then," he promised, his lips curving into a grin. "And I have no doubt you'll come up with some truly fascinating cravings to keep me on my toes."

Maria laughed gingerly, her cheeks flushing. "You're too good to me, Georg."

He tilted her chin gently, his expression softening as he studied her face. "Hmm, and, Maria," he went on, his voice tender but firm, "you'll only grow more beautiful as you carry our child. You already are. And I can't wait to see you as a mother to our baby."

Her heart swelled at his words, tears pricking at her eyes again, but this time they weren't born of fear or doubt. She leaned into him, pressing a delicate kiss to his lips. "You make me feel like I can do anything," she whispered.

"That's because you can," he replied, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "And again, you don't have to do it alone. We'll do it together, every step of the way."

Maria settled against his chest for good, her hand resting lightly over his heart as her breathing began to steady. The tension she had carried for weeks finally began to ebb, replaced by a quiet sense of peace. For the first time, she allowed herself to truly believe that everything would be alright.

Georg held her close, his hand continuing its gentle rhythm on her back as he kissed the top of her head. "Sleep, love," he murmured. "You've had a long day."

And for once, Maria didn't resist. She let her eyes drift closed, her body relaxing fully against his. Within moments, her breaths evened out, soft and steady, as sleep claimed her. Georg smiled faintly, pressing one last kiss to her hair before settling back, content to hold her through the night.

As the moonlight bathed the room in its gentle glow, Maria slept soundly in his arms, at peace for the first time in weeks, her fears silenced by the love and reassurance they had shared.