Chapter 2
Hans didn't like when things were out of his control.
He could deal—and he could certainly deal with it well—but still, he didn't like it.
So it was with great annoyance that he attended his trial, facing a private courtroom that consisted of his mother, a lawyer, and a judge. No one else could be bothered to show up.
Apparently, attempted regicide wasn't heinous enough to warrant an audience.
He faced the judge now, his hands shackled behind him like he was a common criminal and not a prince, and through the corner of his eye saw his mother's steely expression. The lawyer, whose name he had promptly forgotten, was pleading for a light sentence, although even with their brief talk a day before, he didn't know much about Hans' motives for attempted assassination.
"What do you have to say for yourself, Prince Hans? What could possibly justify your actions to attempt murder of Arendelle royalty?"
"She was a danger to Arendelle and had to be apprehended," said Hans, expression bored. They said that you tended to like those who were similar to you; well, he was certainly reflecting the judge's boredom now. Really, what did it take to make people care around here?
"A danger to Arendelle, but the queen—!"
"A terrible and irresponsible queen, who did not want to rule and did not know how to. Being of royalty"—he glanced at his mother, who looked so much like his brothers—"is no excuse for treating the people poorly. She does not care for them, she does not know them, she does not know how to rule them, sir. Her people needed me. Her people needed to end the winter. I did what I had to."
The judge pursed his lips, considering, and for once Hans damned the Southern Isles' justice system. He often praised it for being egalitarian, ahead of its times, but were these really the type of people in charge of his people?
Not that "his" people even knew of him. He grit his teeth as the judge rubbed his fat chin, narrowed his eyes. Even the judge didn't respect his authority as much as his older brothers'. Royalty—he was as royal as any of his twelve brothers, yet there was no leniency for him in this matter.
"Very well. Then I sentence you to..."
"Your Honor," said the queen, speaking up for the first time. "If you may, I have my own idea for a punishment. Prince Hans is my son, and I must discipline him as so." She placed his hand on his shoulder, and Hans willed the dull ache blooming in his chest away with annoyance.
"Your own punishment?" The judge was hesitant and skeptical.
His mother smiled thinly but primly, a smile that was used to getting what it wanted.
"Yes. Before he is a prince, before he is a criminal, he is my son, and I will discipline him accordingly. I will teach him the error of his ways, Your Honor. You have my word as the queen. And, of course, if you visit and deem the punishment unnecessary or unfit, you can of course revoke it and assign a new one. All I ask for is a chance."
The justice system was used to overlooking status as royalty, but not even the judge here could ignore the sway in the queen's voice. There was a certain charisma that ran through her entire character, so that she pulled you every which way while giving the illusion that you were in control. Sometimes the presence of power she had was diluted; this was purposefully done. But other times, you could feel the power coming off of her in waves. Her very presence was made of it.
Hans tried not to smirk at how beguiled the judge was, his almost befuddled expression. You learn from the best, he thought, and his eyes flicked over to the lawyer, who was watching all of this silently.
"Very well," said the judge. "Then I suppose that settles it. Prince Hans of the Southern Isles, you are free to go...for now. As for your punishment, I will be checking in on you a week from now and expect to see you hard at work making amends. You will make sure that his punishment lasts at least a week, won't you?" The judge gave his mother an almost haughty look.
The queen bowed modestly. "Yes, of course, your honor."
The pompous fool. He thought he was the one in control, when his mother had just wrapped him around her little finger.
"Then court dismissed." He pounded the gavel, although there was no one else to hear it besides the three people standing in front of him.
They promptly left, and the lawyer sidled up to the queen, looking hesitant. "My queen—about payment—"
You don't deserve payment, thought Hans in disgust, but his mother only nodded curtly.
"You will receive it in the mail as soon as we are able." He was dismissed.
Once he was gone, Hans turned to her and opened his mouth to speak. "Mother—"
"I'm disappointed in you, Hans," she said, and only shook her head. He knew it was his cue to stop talking.
His lip curled. Even if he had presented his actions in a valiant way, some things never changed.
