And it didn't matter, did it? Elsa tried to interest her in the process, but all these princes fit in the same category of Not Kristoff, so they were interchangeable (although yes, she put a certain amount of faith in her sister choosing someone who was also Not Completely Awful. But still). Anna was a token, a piece in the game, and she trusted Elsa to play her as well as possible.
It sounded silly to say she chose - Elsa insisted Anna make the final choice - based on his name, but it seemed like a good omen. Felix meant 'good fortune', so Prince Felix of Frederikshaven it was.
"But he's the oldest," Elsa said. "He's forty-five, Anna, and a widower. He has two grown-up children. One of them's older than you."
"We won't have to put up with him for long, then."
"He's not that old."
"Then what's the problem?"
Elsa sighed. "You realise that once I accept for you, you can't change your mind. Not without them being dreadfully insulted."
"I know."
"And you're sure?"
"I'm sure. I really am. You know one of us has to get married and have babies and we both know it's not going to be you. Don't look so pained, I want to have babies, I like babies."
"I feel like I'm not being fair to you. Expecting you to be the one who -"
"Shush! Just one thing. How did his wife die?"
"Hmm? A fire, I think. They were staying in a hunting lodge out in the country and it burnt down. One of the servants also died. Prince Felix was ill for a time, from the smoke. Fortunately they didn't have the children with them. This was about ten years ago."
"No murdering?"
"Anna. No murdering." Elsa raised her eyebrows. "I have references for this one."
"Just checking."
He should have fought for her. Why hadn't he fought for her?
Was it just because, whenever he had presented himself at the castle in those first few weeks, Princess Anna was always 'busy' or 'not receiving guests right now'? And even if afterwards he realised the message wasn't from the princess, that most of the time she wasn't even aware that he had come to see her, at the time it had stung. Easier to retreat and pretend to himself that it hadn't meant anything anyway.
If he had been sure that she loved him, it would have been easier to hurdle walls and climb balconies, to fight with guards, to insist. Or so he told himself. His own doubts and insecurities let him lose his chance, and now she was marrying some foreign prince, some stranger twice her age, and he hoped everyone involved was pleased with themselves.
A few brief words in the stableyard, and then she was called away. A smile across the marketplace, but by the time he reached her she was gone. A memory of the ice-cold of the fjord and the summer heat that morning on the dock. It wasn't much to hold on to.
