Lady d'Arvanville, Madam Gonzaga after her marriage, was elated for the first time in years. In fact she had not been so moved since her wedding, more than twenty years ago, the day she had married a Spanish duke. The day she had joined one of the oldest dynasties in Europe. The day she had become the wife of a Spanish Grandee with the privilege to sit down in the presence of the Spanish king. The day she had been imprisoned in a jail, a jail so well constructed that only significance of the death of his husband was that the jail was left without jailer. But she remained inside anyway, trapped in that odious country surrounded by those odious people with her poor son.
But today was different, her cousin Christian was coming to pay her a visit. They had both spent long summers together at her father's chateau in their childhood. He had been almost like a brother to her, almost and more. A long time has passed and they had gone different ways. She was in her dukedom seat and Christian had become a rising star in French diplomacy. He was only thirty seven years old, but had been chosen as the French delegate in the Arendelle affair, before older and more experienced men.
And he needed her; Christian had sent a letter asking for an appointment. They had agreed to meet in a small possession of the dukedom, in a little volcanic region by the Pyrenees near the French frontier. She had been unaware of the existence of this little palace, it had taken Pedro's intervention to remind her of that forgotten place, so horrible as the rest of the duchy scattered through Spain.
She thought for a moment about Pedro; he was a clever and resourceful man. Maybe he was too clever. He had proposed the place for the meeting after he heard a conversation between D'Arbanville and her son. Later, after waiting two weeks for Christian's reply, she had discovered that it was the home of Pedro's family. She didn't trust Pedro but he was the only person able to calm down her son.
In that moment somebody knocked at the door, the voice of her personal maid came through. "Madam Gonzaga, the guests are arriving."
She heard noises from the courtyard and went to the window. The French delegation was entering, at the head was a tall man with chestnut hear. He dismounted and handed his horse to a servant while talking with him. Christian always was gentle with everybody, a quick word with a servant, a courtesy to a maiden, and he remembers every face, and every comment to bring up in the future, letting everyone feel like they are special. D'Arbanville remembered that that was one of his more charming traits. Christian was now crossing the courtyard, heading towards the main gate where Andres, the seneschal, was waiting. Christian saluted him as if he was an old acquaintance. She wondered when they could have met before and realized that the only possibility was her wedding day almost twenty years ago.
D'Arbanville left the window and went to the main hall of the building. In a normal palace it would have been just a room for small meetings, but in this deplorable building it would be used for the reception. When she entered Christian and the seneschal were already awaiting her. They were talking, and even the seneschal, that ugly man that always behaved like he was at his own funeral, had a faint smile in his face that disappeared when the lady came in.
"Monsieur Christian Mullon," Andres announced in his usual stark way.
Christian's face was not handsome; it was too long and his hair was a little bit thin but his smile overcame all these defects. The devil would have envied that smile. She had not seen him for more than ten years, and she still remembered his smile and how he used it to get anything he wanted. He had a slight limp, caused by an old wound from his service in the Marine nationale, but he moved with a graceful elegance.
"Madam D'Arbanville." Christian said, bowing and waving his hat. That was incorrect; she was Madam Gonzaga since her marriage; D'Arbanville was her father's family name, but she could not help feeling delighted.
"Monsieur Mullon," She formally replied to his salute. "Leave us alone." She ordered to the seneschal.
He left the room, slowly as he did not approve that the lady was alone with for a visit, followed by D'Arbanville's suspicious glance
"Elise, looking at you is like seeing a part of my youth. You bring me summer memories of your father's chateau. The time has not passed in your presence." Christian told smiling when they were alone. In fact, Christian was really surprised; they had not seen for ten years, but she was still a strikingly beautiful woman. Her straight, long hair had retained the jet black color of their youth and her intense gaze reflected her willpower and intelligence.
"But it has passed anyway. I am glad to see you Christian, it's been a long time ago since your last visit," She replied smiling and offering her right hand.
He leaned in taking the offered hand and kissed it. All was done slowly, as if repeating an old ritual from long ago and half forgotten. Both looked into each other eyes for a moment with Christian still holding her hand.
She removed her hand slowly. "Yes, ten years is a long time."
"Dear cousin I had my duties as a diplomat. It is difficult to pay you a visit at the main seat of your dukedom, as it is a little far away from anywhere."
"It did not seem to be so far away at the beginning, but at least you have come," She said with satisfaction.
"You accepted his proposal, do you remember? Anyway the past is in the past, France needs you now," Christian finished, changing the subject of the conversation.
"My son and I, since we are talking about his wedding," She pointed out.
"Of course, your son is also involved," Christian accepted. "It is a great opportunity for him. He will marry the Queen of a wealthy country."
"He is a Spanish Grandee, the honor is for the petty Queen of that small country. I also have my spys my dear cousin. Arendelle is little more than a small town," She finished scornfully.
"Don't judge Arendelle by Spanish standards, it has a commerce net that could compete with some of your great harbors," Christian replied.
"Why do you care so much? It is a minor issue."
"It is not a minor issue, the English want to control Arendelle. It could be the perfect location to launch an invasion on British soil. For the same reason, France needs a trusted ruler in Arendelle. A ruler sympathetic to France when a new war between both countries break out."
"Will there be war between France and England?" She asked in surprise.
"Of course there is going to be! Both countries have been at war since the middle ages, it is only a matter of time."
D'Arbanville thought for a moment. "I don't believe you Christian," She stated curtly, though displaying a delightful smile.
Christian was puzzled by the sudden reply. "What do you mean?"
"My father contacted me, after more than five years without any word, explaining this wonderful story of yours and asking me to be loyal to my country. He only agreed to mediate a meeting between you and I when I forced him," she kept on smiling while explaining.
"And?" Christian gazed at her with suspicion.
"My father would never help you to convince me of anything unless he had something at stake, something very important. If he agreed to act in your behalf, he is at some advantage."
"Elise you are speaking nonsense; I was simply very busy with the details of the conference in Arendelle, and your father was kind enough to contact you and..."
"I wish you good journey on your return Christian," She interrupted abruptly.
"Excuse me?" Christian asked, his eyes wide opened.
"If you are not going to tell me the truth, all this talking is useless. I think it is better to put an end to it," D'Arbanville went on, and for a moment Christian really felt in the summers of as he did in his youth, when they both were young and bold, and he understood that this was for her.
"Timber." He said at last.
"What?" She was momentarily taken aback.
"Arendelle is one of the greatest suppliers of timber in Europe. In its nearly unhabited inland lay great forests of the best quality. After the last war, France lost nearly all its war ships. We are rebuilding them and we need timber. France had great reserves, but they are nearly exhausted, so we are forced to import timber from the Scandinavian countries. I don't trust the English. This story of being threatened by Arendelle is a feint to control one of our most important timber supplies. We cannot accept that; the reconstruction of our navy depends on the timber supply from the north," Christian explained.
"And my father is involved in this," she stated.
"Oh course. He is one of the greatest naval builders in France, his shipyards are working all day with timber from the north. If your son marries Queen Elsa his agents will be free to enter in Arendelle and take all the timber we need."
"So, this is why he contacted me instead of leaving the nuisance of convincing me to you. He is going to earn a lot of money. How kind of you to be so eager to pay me a visit after more than ten years," She concluded with a barely disguised sneer.
"As I told you before the past is in the past. Are you going to help us? " He asked.
"Of course I am going to help you, if you accept my conditions."
"What are these conditions?"
"My son will have his share of the timber business."
"I will have to discuss that with your father."
"Talk with him then. Another point, Elias and I will go to Arendelle with you."
"Why? I could handle it by my own and Elsa would come to Spain to get married."
"I want to see her first. I want to be sure that she deserves to marry my son."
"Elise, She is a Queen..." Christian raised a hand to stop the incoming interruption. "I know, he is a Grandee." Christian thought for a second. "I want to see the boy."
"His name is Elias. Why do you want to see him?"
"I want to see if he is fit to marry the Queen of Arendelle."
"Why wouldn't he be? He is a Spanish Grandee."
"Elise, there's a rumor going round that..."
"Whatever you have heard it is exaggerated."
"Well, then I just want to meet your son. He is the son of a childhood friend, almost a sister. What's wrong with it?" He smiled as an old friend.
Lady D'Arbanville got up and gestured to Christian to follow her. They went through the castle until they reached a small garden. It was a beautiful and peaceful place with good views of the valley. A young man in his early twenties was sitting on a stone bench. He was handsome, with his mother's dark hair and elongated face. His hazel eyes were staring into space with emotionless expression.
"Hello Elias, Uncle Christian has come at last to see you," Lady D'Arbanville said. The boy ignored her and carried on looking to a distant point.
"Hello Elias." When Christian spoke the boy turned to face him with an absent expression. Christian went on talking. "Do you know why I am here?"
"Yes, because I am going to marry a Queen." Elias spoke slowly as if he was uncertain about what he was talking about.
Christian paused for a second, the boy seemed so fragile. "Well, do you feel strong enough to travel to that country? It is a long trip."
Elias gave him a puzzled look. "Trip? What..."
"Pedro, take Elias out for a walk" Elias' mother said to a young man, clad in a dark green uniform of the mounted lancers, standing in a corner of the garden. Pedro moved forward and took Elias along with him. Christian followed Elias with his eyes while the young man walked away.
The lancer had a thin and bony face framed by long black air with an aquiline nose and intense dark eyes that gazed without fear at Lady d'Arbanville. The only servant, other than Andres, who isn't afraid of Elise, Christian thought while watching the tall, slender man with curiosity.
"He got sick and the fever affected his mind. He has the mentality of a thirteen years old," D'Arbanville explained to Christian.
"I see. And do you want him to marry?"
"Of course I do. He was normal before the fever, so he can have healthy children. Children that will inherit the dukedom," D'Arbanville said with decision.
"You want this child to father a son? Are you sure that he would know what to do with a woman?" Christian couldn't help saying that in an ironic tone of voice.
"Mind your own business," The woman's reply was cold as ice. "I will not allow my brother-in-law to inherit the dukedom. The dukedom will remain with my descendants. I have not suffered so much in this dirty country to leave everything to such rabble."
"All right, I will talk with your father, and you and Elias can come with me to Arendelle."
"Thank you Christian." Lady D'Arbanville smiled, kissed Christian on the cheek, and left the garden taking Elias along.
Christian stayed in the garden for a moment pondering. The issue had been easier than expected, D'Arbanville, that old miser, would hand over part of the profits, but he will keep the better part. Having them come to Arendelle was a nuisance, but it was an acceptable one. He doubted if the boy was a good choice. In the end he decided that being mentally retarded might be an argument in his favor for the English. Anyway, it's not like anybody was going to take into account Queen Elsa's preferences.