A/N: What you recognize from Frozen or Tangled isn't mine
Susanna knew she was being foolish. Surely Prince Alvred would be required to make a diplomatic match as his sisters had. Perhaps to the Duke of Weselton's daughter; that alliance needed some strength. The Duke, she was sure, would hardly continue his pitiless pursuit of Arendelle's resources if to do so would beggar his own daughter. His Majesty King Julius would be wise to direct his brother's attentions to Weselton.
At first, she had despised the prince as just another spoiled royal; the Southern Isles had more than its share, so she was more than familiar with the type. Handsome, proud, arrogant, quick to stand on royal privilege when it suited them, but almost criminally ignorant of their responsibilities in turn. But spoiled royals didn't listen to sense, and, by all accounts, Alvred had taken her advice to heart, not only in his dealings with the Isles, but at home. Her father's goal was to wed her to one of the Southern Isles princes, but she couldn't abide them. Competitive to a man, more interested in the glory of the kingship than its responsibilities. The heir himself wasn't so bad, but he was scarcely seen for fear one of his ambitious brothers would take his life.
Besides, while her family was old nobility in Arendelle, there was no way the Southern Isles would see an ambassador's daughter as a fitting match for his son and heir. No, the best she could hope for, her father said, and she agreed, was one of the younger sons of the Isle's ruler or perhaps their nobility. And, while she understood the importance of raising the family's station, Susanna was too much of a romantic to want to surrender her life to a greedy royal. Unlike many young women of her class, Susanna had been raised with a thorough understanding of politics and diplomacy, spoke several languages, and was well read. She understood and was not resentful (much) that her main role in life would be to marry well, but couldn't she hope to marry someone smart enough to see her as more than a hostess, a beauty, and a well-bred womb? If she couldn't, perhaps she would have been better off if her father had left her in her mother's drawing room, that way she wouldn't know what she was missing.
Besides, she missed Arendelle. The Isles were beautiful, but nothing was the same as the fjords on a winter morning, decorated in ice and snow. She felt so free there, or she had, the last time she was home. Now it looked like she would spend the rest of her life trying to convince herself that doing her duty and beautiful beaches were a good enough trade for the home she loved and the love she dreamed of.
Still, as she tried to cheer up the prince by taking him to see plays and the sights of the Isles between negotiations, she spared a thought or two to what it would be like for him to see her as more than a confidant and associate. And sometimes, she thought she caught her prince looking at her as if he would like nothing better than to push an errant strand of hair from her eyes, or hold her in his arms rather than gallantly offering his coat on a breezy beachside night. But surely she was imagining things, and even if she wasn't it was unlikely anything would come of it. And while Alvred did seem to be more responsible of late, she couldn't help but remember the gossip she'd heard during his last visit, saying that this particular prince rarely slept alone.
Despite her sensible nature, it took all she had not to sigh in sadness when the change in weather sent Alvred running back to his brother before the fjords became treacherous with winter ice.
She busied herself with defending Arendelle's affairs in the Isles. Her father meant well, but he tended to forget important details of late, like ensuring Arendelle was the first to offer ice transport as the weather warmed up (not that it ever got cold in the Isles, but the summer was scorching).
As busy as she was though, she never failed to quiz the messengers for details from home, particularly regarding the heir.