Chapter Two
"Are they all here?"
"The Royal Handler has yet to arrive, Your Excellency," Johann said, as he helped Baron Nordhagen into his coat and brushed the lint off his shoulders.
Nordhagen frowned as he studied his reflection in the mirror. He was dressed all in black – awfully somber for a Friday morning, but given the grim task of the day, and the news he had received the night before, it was regrettably appropriate to wear. He adjusted his cravat and idly ran a hand over his gray hair, smoothing a few recalcitrant locks back into place as Johann stepped away and watched. Turning away from the mirror, he retrieved his pocket watch and checked the time.
"Well, we can't very well begin without him," Nordhagen sighed. "We'll wait. In the meantime, are the rest of them in the dining room?"
"Yes, sir. Bit of a squeeze, but we found enough seats for all of them."
"Have they been provided with refreshments?"
"Yes, sir. The staff has prepared light appetizers and coffee."
Nordhagen grunted. He wished his wife were here – she played the part of hostess so well, his dear Ingrid, but there was no helping that now. Besides, someone had to be in charge at the estate while Nordhagen was in the capital, and it might as well be her. He founded himself longing for her nevertheless, wishing that she might be here to provide support and comfort for the tasks of the coming days.
"Alright," Nordhagen said wearily, straightening his posture and rolling back his shoulders. "We might as well go and greet our guests now."
Sounds of low chatter and clinking utensils emanated from the dining room, and the cold, dim light of the rainy day outside streamed through the windows, barely illuminating the room with a murky brightness. A maid carrying an empty tray emerged from the room, offering a short curtsy to Nordhagen as she saw him approaching. Nordhagen acknowledged her with a nod, and when she had gone he paused outside the doorway to the room, taking a deep breath before he rounded the doorframe and entered.
At once the talking began to dim before ceasing abruptly. A multitude of clinks and clacks arose as cups and dishes were set down on the long wooden dining table, only to quickly be drowned out by the loud scraping of wood on wood as chairs were pushed back and their occupants rose to their feet, their eyes fixed on Nordhagen's solitary figure expectantly.
"Good morning, Lord President," they said, in a broken, disorganized chorus.
"Good morning, gentlemen," Nordhagen returned. "Please, you may be seated." As they settled themselves back into their chairs, Nordhagen took a seat of his own at the head of the table, which they had been gracious enough to leave for him.
"Before we begin, gentlemen," he began, "I would like to thank you all for arriving at such short notice, and in such dreadful weather as well. I trust that my messenger did not disturb your sleep." He saw a raised hand. "Yes, Minister Aarebrot?"
The Minister of Trade cleared his throat. "Lord President, forgive my interruption, but I notice that the State Council is fully present, yet there remains one empty chair. Might we know who it's for?"
"We are still awaiting the presence of the Royal Handler," Nordhagen said, leaning back in his seat and resting his hands on the armrest of his chair.
Aarebrot frowned, as did a number of other State Councillors. "The Royal Handler is not normally present at our meetings, sir," he said, a little warily.
Nordhagen sighed. "Yes, well, I think that you will find that what I have to say concerns him just as much as it does you or I, and perhaps more so."
"And just what do you have to say, Lord President?" Asked another minister.
"All in due time, Minister Stordahl. We'll wait for the Royal Hander to arrive and then we'll begin."
The clapping of shoes against the floor alerted Nordhagen that someone had entered the room from behind him, most likely a servant. And indeed it was, a plainly, if sharply-attired man who bent down to whisper a few words into Nordhagen's ear before he was dismissed with a nod.
"What coincidental timing, gentlemen," Nordhagen said. "I've just been informed that the Royal Handler has arrived."
After the passing of a few minutes, the Royal Handler hurried into the room, confirming what Nordhagen had been told. "My apologies, Your Excellency, gentlemen, for my tardiness," he said, running a white-gloved hand over the large bald dome on his head. Small splashes of water were visible on his green coat and black pants, and little drops clung to the red hair on the sides and back of his head. "The storm. The Castle is farther from the Lord President's residence than your own homes are, I'd wager."
"No need for apologies, Kai, we quite understand," Nordhagen said with a polite smile. "Thank you for coming." He turned his head to the doorway. "If we could speak privately, please, thank you."
His servants outside nodded and quietly shut the doors, leaving them closed off in the room. Nordhagen turned back to the table, just in time to catch Kai lowering his portly frame into the last empty chair and pull himself up to the table. Seeing that everyone had arrived, he took a deep breath and drew the Grand Duke and the minister's letters from his jacket pocket, setting them down in front of him.
It was Kai who began first, however, before Nordhagen could even clear his throat. "So, Your Excellency," he said, stripping off his gloves, "to what do I owe the pleasure? I hardly need to remind you that the Royal Handler's attendance at the meetings of the Council of State is usually uncalled for." He looked at the assembled ministers and other State Councillors, who returned his gaze stonily. "I also hardly need to remind you that the State Council has already fulfilled its typical practice of meeting once a week for this week, and when it does meet it does so at the Castle, not," he waved an airy hand around him, "at the Lord President's private residence."
State Councilors bristled at Kai's presumption, to speak before the Lord President of His Majesty's Council of State did, as well as the trace of superciliousness in his tone, but Nordhagen was not at all surprised and thus only slightly bothered. Royal Handlers, historically speaking, often put on airs; they typically came from noble families and tended to feel themselves privileged by their special access to the monarch, and Kai was hardly an exception.
"Thank you, Honorable Royal Handler," Nordhagen said. "In reply, all I can say is that once I have finished discussing what I have to discuss, you will see the necessity of the several irregularities in our meeting today.
"Now," he went on to the wider State Council, picking up the Grand Duke's letter and turning it over a few times in his hands, "much like the Royal Handler, you are all doubtlessly wondering why you have been summoned here, again out of accordance with the usual customs. The reason is this." He lifted the letter up for them all to see. "Last night a messenger from the harbor arrived at my doorstep with this letter from the Grand Duke of Aldenburg, dispatched by courier ship from Aldenburg to Arendelle."
Eyes widened slightly and looks were exchanged around the table. Kai, who wasn't a regular at these gatherings and thus had no one to share his mild surprise with, cleared his throat and spoke to Nordhagen directly. "Is it news of His Majesty? Has he found a suitable fiancé for Princess Elsa?"
Near the end of the table, the General-in-Chief of the Royal Army, Lieutenant-General Baron Solstad, crossed his arms and frowned. "Why was this letter sent by the Grand Duke and not His Majesty? Is the King in danger?"
"Surely he is not," the Foreign Minister protested. "The Grand Duke of Aldenburg is an honorable and chivalrous man, and I cannot imagine that he would be capable of treachery. Even if he were he would have no reason to harm His Majesty, not with the prospect of the engagement of his son, Duke Peter, to our elder Princess."
"If the Royal Yacht had gone off course and landed in Weselton we'd have cause to worry," the Interior Minister remarked. "Their stunted runt of a Duke…holding one of his betters hostage for a ransom, or worse, is something I can see him doing."
"But has the King succeeded in finding a husband for Princess Elsa? Is the monarchy secure?"
Nordhagen rapped loudly on the table with his knuckles. "The King is dead," he said decisively, and at once he regretted his words and the force with which he spoke them, recoiling slightly as if lightly struck.
Immediately the room fell silent, and all eyes were upon him. All stared at him in shock, some in disbelief, a few with their jaws hanging open in a manner that would have made for a comical scene, in a different context.
Kai was the first to recover his senses. "How…?" He asked hollowly.
Nordhagen unfolded the Grand Duke's letter and read it aloud, slowly and somberly, then lay it on the table.
Then he picked up the second letter. "Our minister in Aldenburg confirms these events as recounted by the Grand Duke." He turned to the Foreign Minister. "Is, ah, Minister Erland a reliable man, to your knowledge?"
The Foreign Minister blinked and worked his jaw, though no sound emerged for some time. "Y-yes," he said at last. "To the best of my knowledge. I…have never had any problems with his ministry."
Nordhagen nodded gravely. "Then he's probably telling the truth." He set the second letter down, unread.
He took stock of the room. Many still wore expressions of dreadful surprise and astonished dismay, but progressively more and more of them were coming towards a solemn acceptance of events and a subdued resignation to the realities of the situation. He could see it in the tight set of jaws, in arms folded across chests, in the slight slumping in chairs, and in the blank, unseeing stares directed at the empty table and untouched china and cups in front of them. So that's how it is, they all seemed to be saying, silently. That is how it is. It is real.
"A moment of silence, gentlemen, for Their Majesties," Nordhagen said. "And the crew of the Royal Yacht," he added, as an afterthought.
It probably wasn't necessarily for him to have called for a moment of silence, he considered, in the minute or so of quiet that followed, so still that one could almost hear the breathing in the room. No one wanted to say anything anyways.
Ordinarily that wouldn't be the case – around this time, Nordhagen reflected, they would all be saying "The King is dead, long live the Queen" and the succession would be as simple as that, from parent to child, smooth and without interruption, basically continuous. That would be how it worked in a normal monarchy, anyways. But Nordhagen had realized the previous night, as he was penning his letters to summon the State Council and Kai, that special circumstances in Arendelle prevented such a seamless transition of power, and that the King's succession would be more complicated than it would have been otherwise.
If His Majesty had just died three years later, he thought mournfully, or died peacefully in his old age, like any other man, things would be much simpler.
But he hadn't, and there was nothing to be done about it. As such there were still words to be said and things to be done, even if no one wanted to say or do them.
Nordhagen sighed, both to release the tension his musings had produced and to indicate that enough time had passed. "Thank you, gentlemen," he said, to a collective exhalation of unknowingly-held breaths. "I trust you all understand, now, the circumstances of our meeting."
"Indeed," Kai murmured, staring at his hands. His earlier arrogance seemed to have drained out of him now. "It would hardly be appropriate to discuss Their Majesties' deaths in the Castle, when under the same roof their daughters live, unaware of their fate."
Nordhagen took a deep breath. "Royal Handler," he said, "it will be your task to inform the Their Royal Highnesses of what has happened to their parents. And to inform Princess Elsa that she will become Queen much sooner than anyone had expected." He paused for a moment, then went on, "When this is done, I leave it to you to issue a proclamation to the people, to inform them of what has happened."
Kai nodded. "Of course, Your Excellency."
"Lord President." Heads turned to Baron Solstad, dressed resplendently in the green-and-black uniform of the Royal Army. "I must remind you that Her Royal Highness is only…nineteen? Eighteen?"
"Eighteen," Kai supplied.
"Thank you. As I was saying, she is not yet of age to formally ascend the throne. What-"
Nordhagen held up a hand. "Thank you, General-in-Chief. I am well aware that the Princess – the Queen now, I suppose – is too young to rule at present. And that problem is the essence of our meeting today."
He took a breath, and went on, "Given that Her Majesty is not yet of age to rule, our foremost priorities at the present shall be to make provisions for the establishment of a regency to govern until she takes the throne, and to nominate a regent for Her Majesty's consideration and approval." He paused to think for a moment. "Best if it came directly from her through a Royal Decree," he said, more to himself than anyone else, "but as she is not yet of age to be issuing Decrees an Order in Council will have to suffice." He turned to the Secretary of State for the State Council, seated to his right, who served as the Council's official secretary and handled its administrative matters. "I leave the drawing of such an Order in your capable hands. How soon may we expect a draft?"
The State Secretary let out a long breath. "I…I can provide a draft by…tomorrow, Your Excellency," he said at last. "I'll set my office to working on it as soon as I return."
"Very good. And now, gentlemen, given what you've just heard, please be informed that the State Council will reconvene tomorrow, at the same place and time, to analyze the draft and make any necessary amendments." Nordhagen leaned forward in his chair and rested his arms on the table, clasping his hands together. His fingers felt cold, but he just squeezed tighter. "Royal Handler, your attendance will not be required."
Kai nodded – for all his condescension, at the end of the day he knew where his boundaries lay. Affairs of the royal household and court were his domain – those of government belonged strictly to the Council of State and the Lord President.
The Minister of the Treasury raised his hand for the first time that day, and when Nordhagen nodded at him to speak he asked, "Lord President, are we correct to understand that you will be presenting the Order to the Princess – forgive me, the Queen – for her approval?"
"You are," Nordhagen nodded.
The Treasury Minister licked his lips. "But given the extraordinary circumstances, sir, is royal assent even necessary at all? After all, Her Majesty is scarcely more than a girl, barely a woman. Could we not proceed unilaterally, and issue an Order of Council instead on our own prerogative?"
"Not to mention," Baron Solstad joined in, "that she has not been seen outside the Castle – or even in it, from what I hear – for nearly a decade, now." He gave Nordhagen a guarded look. "I would have grave reservations about entrusting affairs of government of such importance to a girl and recluse who hasn't stepped foot outside her chambers in ten years. What would she know of her own realm, her own subjects, or anything else in the world? We are speaking," he went on, looking around the table, "of a girl with no experience of the world outside the Castle, perhaps even her room – much less matters of state!"
"Watch your tongue, sir," Kai said sharply, turning to deliver a stern glare at Baron Solstad. "That's your Queen you're speaking of."
Yet many heads around the table were nodding at the Treasury Minister and Solstad's words, and Solstad, knowing this, stared back defiantly at Kai, before turning to Nordhagen. "Forgive me if I speak out of place, Lord President, but conscience and duty dictate that I must give voice to my concerns," he said.
Nordhagen nodded. "I quite understand your reasons, Baron, and I thank you for your candor." He paused. "I think, however, that it would still be wise of us to seek royal assent. As youthful as Her Majesty is, she is nonetheless old enough to be consulted on such matters, and that being the case I would consider it disrespectful to her and the monarchy, and possibly even disloyal, to establish a regency without her approval." He paused. "Besides, any regency established must be respectable and legitimate. I will not have it said that the State Council attempted to usurp the powers of the sovereign – an accusation that Her Majesty's age and sex make us all the more vulnerable to."
Kai nodded in agreement, but Baron Solstad was undeterred. "But is the Princess – Queen – even competent to give assent to begin with?" He asked, placing a hand on the table. "If she's anything like her sister…"
Despite the seriousness of the matter being discussed and the solemn news they had learned, a few thin smiles broke out among the assembled State Councillors. More than once the young Princess Anna had accidentally – they were mostly sure they were accidents – crashed meetings of the State Council at the Castle, including twice when her father was presiding. Other times the noises produced by her antics in the hallways had sufficed to silence their deliberations and cause them to exchange laughter or concerned looks. To some she was a source of irritation, but others found her an excellent source of comedy in the otherwise somber and still Royal Castle.
Excellent comedy or not, however, the younger Princess was not someone they particularly wished to see on the throne, and if the Queen indeed was anything like her sister, that could potentially pose a problem. Nordhagen turned to Kai. "Perhaps the Royal Handler could provide affirmation as to Her Majesty's competence to give assent?" He asked.
Kai opened his mouth to speak, but to his surprise no words came out, and he closed his mouth again, clearly needing time to think. Nordhagen's eyes widened, as did those of other members of the Council. This shouldn't be difficult at all, especially not for Kai, who has more access to the Royal Family than any of us.
"The Queen often sends for books from the library," he said at last. "They include volumes on topics of great complexity and detail, such as geometry and algebra, as well as histories and atlases of Arendelle and other peoples and countries. Not to mention languages – Gaulish, Teuton, Götish, Jutish, and Gristish." He set his jaw firmly. "I, therefore, consider it a gross injustice to mischaracterize Her Majesty as uninformed about her country or the world in general."
"But have you actually spoken with her, sir, to gauge her faculties?" The Interior Minister insisted. "For that matter, have you ever seen her outside of her rooms? I've served on the Council of State for six years and went to the Castle at least every week in that time, yet I've never seen the Queen once, nor have I ever seen her at any state functions with her parents and younger sister." He paused. "Presumably she will attend her own coronation, when the time comes," he muttered, not quite sotto voce.
A few chuckles broke out around the room. Kai turned almost as red as his hair, but Nordhagen held up a hand. "Minister Teigen, you are out of line," he said sternly. "As Minister of the Interior and head of the police you, of all people, should know better than to violate the dignity of the Crown with remarks like that. Even if they did not breach our lèse-majesté laws I will not tolerate them under my roof."
"My apologies, Your Excellency, Honorable Royal Handler," the Minister said, suitably chastened. Nordhagen sighed, then turned to Kai, who nodded at him gratefully.
"Don't be too quick to thank me, Royal Handler." Nordhagen steepled his fingers. "The Interior Minister raises a good question. Have you ever spoken with the Queen? Or seen her outside of her chambers? I ask because I, too, find it very peculiar how she is never seen. I was the Lord President of her father's State Council for twenty years, and my last memories of Her Majesty were when she was," Nordhagen closed his eyes, trying to remember, "eight years old, or thereabouts. Around the time His late Majesty ordered the Castle gates to be shut to non-official visitors." He opened his eyes again.
"Who has taught her?" The Treasury Minister chimed in. "You say she sends for books – but is there no one to test her knowledge of them, or discuss their nuances with her? How are we to know that she comprehends them at all?"
"What background does she have, with regards to education? How well does she understand politics? Economics? Diplomacy?"
"To what extent, Royal Handler, did His late Majesty prepare her for the responsibilities of ruling?"
Kai bore the onslaught of questions and challenges without flinching, though Nordhagen saw his hands tighten on the arms of his chair and his face begin to redden again. "I assure you, Councillors, that Her Majesty is competent to give assent and would welcome the consultation of the State Council," he said, coldly and stiffly.
"But how would you know? Have you spoken to her? Answer the question," Baron Solstad insisted. Next to him, the Admiral-in-Chief of the Royal Navy nodded, as did several other State Councillors.
"As General-in-Chief and a military officer, your fealty to your sovereign should be absolute," Kai replied icily. "I should hardly need to remind you that it is not your place to question-"
"Don't presume to question my loyalty or tell me what my duty is," Solstad said, raising his voice. He pointed at the medals and orders that bedecked his uniform, many won on the battlefield during the Wars of the General-Emperor. "You see these, don't you? I won't allow-"
Nordhagen sighed and loudly rapped his knuckles on the table again. It hurt, but if that was the price to pay for getting the meeting back under control then it was one he would gladly pay. "Gentlemen, please. Kai, the Council will accept your assurances, thank you." He turned to face him. "I still find it very odd, however. I'm sure we all do. And in the absence of an affirmative answer, then I can foresee some difficulties that may arise. For instance, I needn't remind you that the sovereign customarily presides over the State Council once a month, in order to stay informed on the doings of his government – her government, now. If Her Majesty is…if has any particular preferences regarding how she conducts her affairs, it is best we know, so that certain…accommodations…might be made," he said, picking his words carefully.
Kai gave a curt nod. "I will inquire with Her Majesty," he said tonelessly.
"Sooner rather than later, please," Nordhagen said. "If and when the Order in Council is delivered I had hoped that the entire State Council could attend to pay homage and pledge our fealty, but if she would prefer a different arrangement…"
"I think it best," Kai said, with a cool edge to his voice, "to put off any unnecessary questions to the Queen until after she has come to terms with her grief. I may not have been especially well-acquainted with her but I do know that she was quite close with her parents. I expect she will grieve strongly for some time. Her sister, too."
Nordhagen nodded, unperturbed. "Of course. Whatever you think is best. So long as you do ask in a timely manner and return her reply to me." He took a breath, then turned to look among his colleagues. "Are we agreed then, gentlemen? An Order in Council to establish a regency, to be sent to the Queen for her assent?"
Some heads nodded, some stayed still. No one said anything. Nordhagen sighed. "All in favor?"
The State Secretary for the Council raised his hand, as did the Foreign Minister and the Trade Minister, followed by the Minister of Justice and the Minister of War. Slowly, the Treasury Minister and the Interior Minister did as well, to Nordhagen's mild surprise. Next were the Secretaries of State for the Royal Mint and for the Post, then the Lord Advocate and the Secretaries of State for the Coasts, Rivers, and Lakes and for Agriculture and Forestry. Last to agree, to no one's surprise, were the General-in-Chief of the Army and the Admiral-in-Chief of the Navy.
What was a surprise, however, was the unanimous accord among the State Council. Kai stared, then turned to Nordhagen. "This doesn't happen very often, does it?"
"Not at all," Nordhagen said drily. Usually, when they voted on things, there was more discord.
"Thank you, gentlemen," he said, and the hands fell back down. He turned to the State Secretary for the Council. "By tomorrow, remember."
Turning back to the rest of them, he took a deep breath and went on, "Now, to the next order of business. Having agreed to propose to Her Majesty to establish a regency, it behooves us also to be prepared to nominate a regent for her immediate consideration, so that there be as little interruption as possible in the exercise of government power." He looked at the assembled State Councillors. "Are there any names you would wish to propose, gentlemen?"
The State Councillors looked among each other uncertainly, but one by one their heads all turned to Nordhagen. "Why, who else but you, Lord President?" Baron Solstad said, as if it was obvious.
The others all nodded, Kai as well. I suppose I really am the only sensible choice, Nordhagen thought – not from vanity, but from a frank and realistic appraisal of the situation. He had, after all, been Lord President of King Agnarr's State Council for twenty years – there was, to his knowledge, no statesman in Arendelle more experienced in the arts of governance and statecraft than him. Really, he was the only logical choice.
He didn't like the idea of accepting more responsibility, in all honesty. Being Lord President was taxing enough without having to assume the sovereign's powers, as the regency would entail. But, as he saw it, there was no one better suited for the job. The person who would make the best regent, he concluded neutrally, was simply him, and he was not afraid of the good he could do. Firm and sensible leadership would be needed while the Queen came of age, and who better to provide it than him?
It was really not a difficult choice.
Taking a deep breath, Nordhagen nodded his head. "Thank you, gentlemen, for your confidence. When the Order in Council is presented to Her Majesty, whenever and however that will happen, I or someone else," he nodded to Kai, "will propose myself as regent."
He paused, and there was silence for a moment. "Well," he said at last, "I think we have concluded our business for the day. Thank you, gentlemen, for coming. As before, we reconvene tomorrow, at the same place and time. Royal Handler, your attendance will not be required, thank you."
"Before we depart, Your Excellency," Kai said, "will you remind me what exactly I am to tell Her Majesty?"
"Inform her that her parents have been lost at sea," Nordhagen said gravely. "And then, at your earliest opportunity, inform her that she is to be Queen, but given that she is not yet of age to rule, her late father's State Council is preparing an Order in Council to establish a regency with her assent, with myself as the proposed regent. Inform Princess Anna as well," he added, remembering at the last minute. "About her parents' deaths and her sister succeeding to the throne, that is. None of the rest concerns her."
Kai nodded. "Of course."
"And when this is all done," Nordhagen finished, "you may draft and release a proclamation for general distribution, to inform the people that His Majesty has passed away and that Her Majesty will succeed him as Queen and take the throne in three years' time. Be as forthcoming as you can be – the fewer questions the people have, the better."
Kai nodded again, silently this time. Nordhagen nodded as well, then rose slowly from his seat, followed by the rest of the State Council and Kai in a mass scraping of chairs against the floor.
"Gentlemen," he said solemnly, "The King is dead. May we be the first to say, 'Long Live the Queen'."
"Long Live the Queen," they chorused, their voices flat and uncertain, as if still sampling the feel of the words on their tongues. "Long Live the Queen. Long Live the Queen."