"Glad you decided to join us," Elsa comments as she approaches the double doors of the dining room. Her sister is leaning against the doorframe, her calm exterior betrayed by her hands, which are wringing themselves furiously. Elsa can relate.

"I didn't exactly have a choice," Anna narrows her eyes.

"Still, I expected to have to send someone after you. I didn't think you'd come so…"

"Willingly?" Anna supplies. "Come on, would I do that to you?"

Elsa drops her eyes. It pains her to admit that she doesn't know. That she doesn't know her sister at all. "Are you ready to go in?" she asks, changing the subject.

"As ready as I'll ever be," Anna answers. "But you're not." She gesturs to the Queen's head.

"Oh," Elsa runs her hand across the top of her hair. "My crown. Yes, Marcus is bringing it."

"Oh, okay," Anna nods. They stand in silence for a moment before she speaks back up. "That's a beautiful dress."

"Thank you," Elsa replies, glancing down at the gown. "It was in my closet."

"Really? I thought you might have pulled it out of the garbage." They exchange a nervous laugh before falling back into the uncomfortable silence. The Queen hates how awkward her relationship with her sister has become. It should never have been like this. Her relationship with Anna should be the easiest, most stress-free relationship she has. On second thought—she mentally runs through a list of everyone she knows—it probably is. But easiest and easy by no means meant the same thing.

"Your Majesty." Elsa turns toward the voice. Marcus is standing behind her, holding out her crown. She bows to allows him to place it on her head before turning back to the Princess. She offers up what she hopes is a reassuring smile, but she suspects it must have come out as a grimace, because Anna merely drops her eyes.

"Listen," she says. "This will be hard for both of us."

"You seem fine," the Princess replies without looking up.

Elsa takes a deep breath. 'Seem' being the operative word. Conceal, don't feel. She's had a lot of practice. Put on a show. She's the Queen. She is calm, collected, poised. But she can't expect Anna to understand that. Her sister has always been able to express herself in any way she wants, in part because she is not expected to assume the throne and in part because she does not possess hazardous ice powers. Elsa sighs, "Are you ready?"

"Let's go," Anna replies firmly.

As soon as the doors begin to move, Elsa can hear the scrapping of chairs as the Princes hurry to stand. Drawing herself to full height she enters the dining room, Anna at her right. Careful to keep her pace leisurely yet purposeful—seriously, the things she has to think about—she makes her way to her designated seat at the opposite head of the table. To their credit, the Princes had had thought to leave the chair immediately to her right open for Anna.

"Prince Ivar, Prince Erlend, Prince Rolf, Prince Anton," Elsa nods to each man in turn. "Princess Anna of Arendelle." Out of the corner of her eye, she sees her sister sink into a curtsy. "Now, please, sit," she adds as she takes her own seat and waits for the others to do the same.

"So, which one of you is closest in age to Hans?" Anna asks out of nowhere when they are halfway through the cheese course. Elsa swallows the piece of Jarlsberg she is chewing and looks at her sister. Anna flashes her an innocent smile.

"Oh, um," Prince Ivar pauses with his fork midway to his mouth. "That would be Anton." He looks down the table at his brother, silently permitting him to answer in full.

"That's right," Prince Anton says. "I'm the twelfth brother. Hans and I are only a year apart."

"I see," Anna replies, wrinkling her eyebrows. "So the two of you are close?"

Anton hesitates. "Not particularly, no. Hans, well, he always sort of liked to do his own thing. I was always… always closer to Rolf and Erlend."

"So you didn't realize he was a homicidal maniac?"

"Anna!" Between horror and embarrassment, Elsa briefly wonders where her sister picked up such a phrase before realizing that Anna probably had just as much free time growing up as she had and is probably nearly as well read.

"No, it's okay," Ivar replies. "I knew we'd need to address this at some point. It seems absurd that none of Hans' twelve brothers had any idea what he was planning, right?"

"Just a little bit," Anna replies in a tone that tells Elsa quite clearly that she's holding back some sort of biting comment.

"Well, the first thing you have to remember is that most of us don't live in the same castle anymore," Rolf explains. "You have to remember that we all have lives outside of being princes. That does tend to happen when it's unlikely you'll ever assume the throne." He shoots her a self-deprecating smile. "Our only brothers who are in diplomacy fulltime are Ivar, here, and, of course, Nikolai."

"That's right," Anton adds. "I study botany, you see, and Erland is a physician, and Rolf is a talented violinist."

"Anyway," Rolf continues, "Hans still lives in the main castle with our parents, as do Nikolai and Anton, but the rest of us only pass through from time to time. For instance, I believe the last time I saw Hans was nearly a month before he departed for Arendelle, and that was only a brief exchange after one of my concerts, which he attended with our parents."

"The point my brother is trying to make," Erlend says, "Is that most of us didn't seen Hans as often as the two of you might see each other." Elsa cast a guilty glance in Anna's direction. "We didn't get to talking very much."

"Besides that," Anton says, "Hans didn't want much to do with us younger brothers in recent years. He was really much closer to Nikolai and Ivar. I thought he was just angry about the… well, the hell we put him through when we were younger."

"He was the youngest," Erlend interjects.

"But it appears now," Ivar continues, "That he probably just wanted to feel near the throne—the Crown Prince's closest confidante, if you will—and I'm sure he thought he could learn some useful governing tricks that way too. You know, make himself more appealing to the princesses he was trying to woo. Begging your pardon, Your Highness," he nods to Anna. "And prepare himself to be a king." He shakes his head with a sigh. "Anyway, Hans liked traveling to foreign nations as part of our delegation—I thought he just wanted to see the world, but we now know that was not the case—so his volunteering to attend your coronation was not at all out of the ordinary. He raised no suspicion prior to leaving."

"He's… he's done this before then?" Anna asks. Elsa can see her eyes widening. "Going to another kingdom to try to marry a princess."

"In hindsight, yes, it looks like he has a long history of that exact behavior," Ivar admits, finally setting down his fork, apparently abandoning the idea of finishing his slab of cheese. Elsa watches her sister drop her eyes and set down her own fork as well. "The communiques we received after Hans attended events in other kingdoms all stated that he was polite, charming, that he had taken special favor with one of the princesses, usually one directly in line for the throne, though we did not notice the pattern at the time. We never received any complaints regarding his behavior."

"We just thought he had a… strong interest in the ladies," Erlend chooses his words carefully. "We never imagined he was specifically trying to marry into a throne."

Anna nods, though Elsa was not sure whether she is still listening. Her eyes have taken on a glazed appearance and she looks dangerously near crying. "Very well," Elsa says, in an attempt to press past the awkwardness. Her father was adept at defusing tense situations. She sorely wishes she'd had the opportunity to learn from him, learn from observation rather than instruction. "Shall we meet tomorrow to discuss the future of our trading partnership?"

"Indeed, Your Majesty," Ivar answers. "We are grateful Arendelle is still willing to do business with us after the… incident."

"As long as I see no signs of treachery from any of you," Elsa replies, a smile ghosting across her face, "I believe we will have a very promising future."

"That's good to hear, Your Majesty," Rolf responds, returning the smile, as Anna shoots her another look of deepest betrayal, her eyes still clouded with unshed tears. They will have to talk later. Elsa stomach turns at the thought of another discussion with her sister, another discussion where Anna will be upset and Elsa will have no idea what to say, another discussion where feelings will come up and Elsa will be expected to reciprocate, despite the fact that she's spent years burying her emotions and is not entirely sure how to uncover them. Anna deserves a proper sister, she knows. She only wishes that was her.

"Your Majesty," Anton says. "I noticed your gardens from the window of my room this afternoon." A wave of relief rolled over the Queen at the change to such an innocent subject. "They are beautiful."

"Thank you," she replies. "Our mother used to tend them herself. Of course, I don't have much talent in that area." Because until three weeks ago I barely remembered what a flower looked like. "They've been managed by gardeners since her death."

"May she rest in peace," the Princes mutter, crossing themselves. Their etiquette really is impeccable, Elsa thinks.

"Perhaps my sister and I can take you all on a tour of the grounds tomorrow after our meeting," she suggests, watching Anna's entire body tense out of the corner of her eye. Yes, they will certainly have to talk. It kills Elsa to do this to her sister, but diplomacy is diplomacy, and Anna needs to learn about it sooner rather than later. Ideally, Anna would have learned these things alongside her sister when they were teenagers. Of course, circumstances dictated that Elsa be taught alone. Presumably, their father lacked the time to instruct them both separately, and, as a result, Anna's education had fallen by the wayside where foreign affairs are concerned.

"I'm sure that would be wonderful," Anton replies.

She glances at Marcus, buried in the far corner of the room, silently imploring him to work the tour into the next day's schedule. He gives a nearly imperceptible nod and goes right back to pretending to be invisible. A steward's job is to know what his premier is thinking without being told, her father had repeated to her. If you find a good steward, hold onto him. They're not easy to come by.

"Very well," she replies. "I'll have one of the stewards get back to you on the time."

"Of course," Ivar answers. "You have an agenda to work with, we understand. We were expecting it when we arrived unannounced."

Then why did you do it, Elsa wants to asked. Instead, she settles for a simple, "Good." They settle into silence before Erlend launches into a tale about his childhood. Elsa isn't sure where exactly it came from—the onset is quite sudden—but she's glad to be extended a break to recover from the exhaustion of conversation-making. Rolf and Anton gradually jump in, and all she has to do was laugh in the right places. She even notices, as she takes a sidelong glance at her sister that, despite herself, Anna is giggling. Of course it helps that a certain brother is mysteriously absent from their stories, but Elsa suspects that's by design more than coincidence.

Elsa had expected to be tasked with going to Anna again once the Princes retreated to their quarters for the evening, but she's barely been in her own chambers a minute when she hears a timid knock at the door. She knows who it was immediately. She recognizes that knock, hesitant from years of being ignored. It's not the businesslike knock of a steward or the respectfully hurried knock of a maid. "Come in!" she calls as she sinks into the bed to pull off her shoes.

Anna opens the door just enough to slip inside and closes it softly behind her. "Your timing is impeccable," Elsa remarks. "Two minutes ago, I wouldn't have been here."

Anna nods. "I know. I have a copy of the schedule, remember? They had you approving actions until eleven, and it's a four-minute walk from your study."

"Oh," Elsa replies softly.

"I think you already know what this is going to be about," Anna says. Elsa notes that she has not made any move to further enter the room. It's as if she's preparing for a fight, preparing to run.

"Yes, I believe so," she sighs. "The tour of the gardens?"

"Why would you include me?" Anna asks. "If you want to spend and unnecessary amount of time with them, fine! But why would you make me? You know how I feel about them being here."

Elsa takes a deep breath. "Anna, you need to learn how to handle these matters on your own. I told you, we can't afford to lose the Southern Isles as a trade partner. We have to be polite."

"You have to be polite," Anna's voice is scathing. "You're the one they deal with. I had dinner with them. I showed I don't hate them, which, you know, isn't completely true, but I thought I was very convincing—"

"That's not enough, Anna," the older girl shakes her head. "You have to learn how to interact with them. They may have dealings with you some day. You need to learn how to behave. This is something you should have been taught years ago. Unfortunately, circumstances being what they were…" There is no need to finish. The thirteen years of separation permanently hang between them in the air. It doesn't need voicing. Again.

"Why would they ever have dealings with me?" her sister argues. "Why would I ever be in a situation where I had to do business with the Southern Isles? It's not like they get ice from us. It's not like I'm involved in trade—"

"Because someday you will be Queen," Elsa snaps before she can stop herself. The fact that Anna will be the one to succeed her on the throne is not one she's ever voiced, but it's a reality she accepted long ago, after her father died and her own ascension to the throne became immanent. She takes another breath and frames her next sentence. "Because, if you outlive me, God willing, you will be Queen. Then you will understand."

"That's not true," Anna's reply is slow, like she's working out how Elsa can possibly have arrived at such a far-fetched conclusion. "No, your children will be before me in the line of succession."

"Anna…" The word is laced with desperation mingled with regret and resignation, and its implications echo through the room long after its sound dies away. Anna's face is contorted in confusion, but, unwilling to elaborate, Elsa watches until, after a minute or so, realization splashes across her sister's features. She drops her eyes, gripping the edge of her mattress. She watches as frost crept along the fabric, forming a web around her palms.

"Oh, Elsa."

Suddenly, her sister doesn't sound angry at all. The Queen squeezes her eyes shut, but she can hear the floorboards squeaking as Anna approaches the bed. She feels the mattress sink next to her.

"Elsa, you'll have a family."

"I don't think that's likely."

"Why? I mean," her sister pauses. "Sure you were kept out of the public eye for years, but so was I, and anyway, you're back now, and you're the most desirable maiden in the land. Suitors will be climbing over each other for your hand."

Anna makes it sound so simple that Elsa can't help but smile. She looks so resolute, the older girl thinks as she brings her eyes back up to meet the Princess', as if that settles the matter.

"Anna, it's not that easy."

"Yes it is," her sister insists. "Meet a guy, court him for at least a year—that part's really important, as we've learned… well, as I've learned—then get engaged, then get married. You'll get invited to tons of balls. You'll find someone."

"That's not what it's about." Elsa can't believe they are even having this conversation. There are much more pressing matters at hand than her love life and whether or not there will ever be such a thing. "Anna…" There it is again. That tone. Like she's pleading for her sister to figure it out herself, because she doesn't want to explain. But this time she knows she'll have to. It's too far a conceptual jump for any person to make. She'll just have to force it out. "Anna, I'm barely managing a relationship with you. How do you expect me to hold up one end of a romance?"

Anna shrugs. "You'll learn. Just like I am."

"It's not the same."

"Why not?"

"Because," Elsa sighs and squeezes her eyes shut. She can feel the mattress cooling beneath her, hardening. She'll have to have one of the stewards bring in another one from a different bedroom before she goes to sleep. Admit it, she tells herself, just admit it. "Because you know how to interact with people. You grew up with friends, even if they were just members of the staff. You aren't starting from scratch. Anna, the only people I spoke to for the better part of my life were our parents."

"It'll get better though," Anna repliea, and Elsa enviea the certainty in her voice. "Oh, and Elsa, you want to know how to manage a relationship? Just talk to me." She shrugs. "We're sisters. It's not supposed to be hard." She pushes herself off the mattress and, after murmuring a goodnight, exits the room, pulling the door shut behind her, and leaving her older sister to question how she'd come so close to the point and yet, missed it entirely.

A/N: Hey guys! Thank you for all your reviews on the first chapter. I always look forward to reading them. Hopefully you all enjoyed this chapter as much as you seemed to like the last one. I was glad to see a couple of people say that they thought everyone seemed in character, because excessive out-of-character-ness is one of my major pet peeves, so I work really hard at that. Anayway, I look forward to reading your reviews again and hopefully I'll see everyone at the next update!