There it was.
Oops.
It was sudden, it was spiky, the guests were horrified, that Duke of Weaseltown who had loudly stated he wanted to exploit the kingdom was now even more loudly stating something about sorcery – yes, of course she knew she'd blown it, after all these years and the last twelve hours trying to cover up the itch. Yes, of course she'd done wrong, and literally royally messed things up. But that was not to say she didn't feel at least bodily relief when she released that sheet of ice from her fingers. It can't be good for you, keeping ice bottled up in your hands so long they turn blue, she thought.
When she let go – and she shuddered with guilt to think it – she felt good.
But of course. Of course she had let her parents down. Of course she had once again endangered Anna…
Oh, Anna.
Her affection for Anna was a strange cross of oh-there-that-silly-thing-goes-again amusement and soul-crushing responsibility for protecting her only sister, friend and family. Anna was young and clueless, optimistic and without secrets. Making sure she stayed that way, and thus sparing her the burden of knowledge by taking it upon herself, had over the years become Elsa's life mission. It had worked, but it had been painful and depressing. In fact, Elsa sometimes secretly blamed her sister, in an oh-that-silly-thing way but not really, for her emotional disarray and caprice. And now, as she heard Anna's trembling voice whisper her name, Elsa felt something new growing in her heart.
It wasn't ice. It was an idea and was much colder.
She deserved her own life. Anna would find out anyway, she could stop babying her, and maybe, just maybe, it was time to be selfish for a change.
She took in the last sight of her sister she expected in a while and burst through the door, to be greeted by an agitatingly large crowd of citizens.
"Long live Queen Elsa!" they cheered.
"Stay away from me," she said. I will, she thought.
She ran.