Elsa gazed out the window. The sun was higher in the sky now, and the chirping of the birds in the pine tree outside her chamber had grown louder. "I suppose I'd best get ready to leave," she said. It was clear from her tone, and from the way her hands fiddled nervously with the hem of her blouse, that she remained unconvinced as to the wisdom of a vacation.

Kristoff hefted the enormous leather trunk onto his shoulder. "Please allow me to carry this to the dock for you," he said to Elsa. His manners had improved significantly over the past three years: the same etiquette tutor who had once instructed Elsa in protocol (and despaired over Anna's reluctance to acquire the same) had been summoned back to the castle to work with him, and he had proved a quick study. It was true that he still occasionally slurped his soup at the table, and true that Gerda had once had a conniption when he'd tracked mud all over the freshly waxed floor in the Great Hall; other than that, however, his demeanor had become nearly indistinguishable from that of a minor nobleman or a member of the high landed gentry.

With Elsa in the lead, the three of them made their way down the corridor. Although Kristoff did not exactly struggle with the heavy trunk, he did not carry it as effortlessly as he might have several years ago. A faint red flush had crept over his face and his breathing was ever-so-slightly labored; the great strength and stamina that had been his when he had cut and carried blocks of ice for a living had begun to dwindle since he became a full-time resident of the royal palace. However, he had largely retained his muscular physique, and he had not gained the soft, slightly paunchy look that many strong men take on when they cease to do regular physical work.

When they reached the Great Hall, they saw that the entrance doors were already wide open. The sun outside was sparkling on the palace courtyard and on the stone bridge that led through the gates and down toward the harbor, and a crisp morning breeze was stirring the flags that lined the walkway. It was a perfect day for a sea voyage.

"Your Majesty! Your Majesty!"

A frantic voice echoed from one of the smaller side corridors that fed into the Great Hall. Elsa, Anna and Kristoff stopped in their tracks. If they hadn't known better, they would have said the voice belonged to Kai, the palace steward – but Kai was renowned for his unflappable nature. He had served the royal family of Arendelle since Elsa and Anna were children, and not once had either of them heard so much as the tiniest hint of agitation in his voice. Twin prickles of alarm crawled up the backs of the sisters' necks.

"Your Majesty!" It was indeed Kai, and he was beside himself. His normally neat fringe of auburn hair was in disarray and his waistcoat was open, flapping slightly as he ran toward them. He stopped in front of Elsa and made her a short bow, then bent over and put his hands on his knees to steady himself. A slight sheen of sweat glistened on his bald spot and he was panting to catch his breath.

"Kai! What on earth...?" Elsa asked.

"Your Majesty – Your Highness – Herr Bjorgman – all of you must come quickly," Kai gasped.

"Come where?"

"To – to the docks," panted the steward. He looked up at Elsa with panic in his eyes.

"The docks? Why? What has happened?"

"An envoy ship has arrived...from the Southern Isles."

The Southern Isles? Elsa, Anna and Kristoff stiffened almost in perfect unison. Three years ago, Hans, the youngest of the Southern Isles' thirteen princes, had left Anna to freeze to death and attempted to assassinate Elsa in an attempt to seize Arendelle's throne for himself. He had failed and been sent back to his own country in disgrace. The heinousness of his crime was so great that it warranted profuse personal apologies from no one less than Hans's eldest brother - King Haakon of the Southern Isles – himself, and yet all that had ever come was a short, curt note from the king's secretary expressing his regret at the "unfortunate incident," and reassuring Elsa that Hans would be punished. No communication regarding the nature of the punishment had ever been sent, and trade between Arendelle and the Southern Isles had declined to almost nothing since then. The unannounced arrival of an envoy from Hans's country was highly unexpected – and highly suspicious.

Her head held high, Elsa picked up the hem of her skirt and began to stride briskly across the Great Hall. "Hurry. We must see what this is all about. Kristoff, you may leave my trunk here."

"Your Majesty – wait! There is something you must know before you meet with the emissary," said Kai, still trying to catch his breath. "I have asked him to wait for you at the docks, but – "

Just then, there was a scream and a mighty crash from the vicinity of the oaken doors which led from the Great Hall out into the palace courtyard. The royal party looked up to see Gerda, the head of the palace's housekeeping staff, sprawled on the floor in a dead faint. She had been carrying a glass vase filled with flowers, which had fallen with a great clang when she went down. Flowers and shattered glass littered the tiles around her, and water from the broken vase was spreading across the floor in a shimmering puddle.

Two men dressed in the livery of the Southern Isles' royal family were standing at the threshold of the palace, a few feet away from where Gerda had fainted. They were struggling to keep their grip on a third man, all in rags, whom they held between them. The ragged man was twisting and writhing in their grasp, trying with all his might to get loose.

"I'm so sorry, sir!" one of the men in livery said to Kai. His expression was distressed as he fought desperately to hold on to the ragged man. "I know you asked us to wait at the docks, but as soon as we opened his cabin, he tried to run! We had to catch him – we couldn't let anything happen to him –" At the sight of Elsa, he stopped speaking and dropped to one knee, his head bowed. His liveried companion did likewise, pulling the man in rags down with them.

But the man in rags raised his head, and for the first time, Elsa, Anna and Kristoff were able to see his face. He was as thin as a skeleton, and his cheekbones seemed to poke through his wraith-white, near-translucent skin. His strawberry-blond hair – the same colour as Anna's – was shaggy and overgrown, and his beard was matted and filthy. Yet there could be no mistaking his distinctive, imperious nose, and his dark eyes – though they seemed haunted and mad, like the eyes of a wild animal – were eyes that Elsa and Anna knew as well as they knew each other's.

A hush fell over the crowd in the Great Hall. For a moment, it seemed as though time itself had stopped and was hanging, frozen, in the air.

Then Elsa took the tiniest of steps forward, toward the man in rags. She clutched at the bodice of her dress, then spoke a single, trembling word:

"P-Papa?"