I hardly know what to write. I feel as a tree when split by lightning. I have been forbidden from seeing Randolf. Alva was quite upset when I told her of him and our love. I don't understand. Is it so wrong to love a man? Is it really not allowed for the fae to love humans? Why should we fear them? Why should we avoid them? Randolf is my heart, he makes me happy and has shown me nothing except the best of what man can be. I love him, I want to grow old as he will and live our lives together.

I think tomorrow, I will defy my mother. I have thought about it long and hard and I feel I am right. I will meet him in the usual place, and I will beg him to elope. Leaving my forest will make me as human as he, Alva has always warned me against it—and if we're both human, nothing would make me happier. We'll be together and that's all that matters.

"Everything you want to know about the origin of the curse is in this book." Grand Master Abbot Belgr handed the ancient book to Elsa. "I don't know how much knowing this tale will help you with learning how to abolish it; but this is all we can give."

Elsa clutched the book to her chest. "Thank you. Anything, any scrap of information will help; I'm sure. You've been very gracious."

The old man sniffed. "We have only done as we should. There is one thing, your majesty—the book cannot leave this tower. There are things in this book that are never meant to again see the light of day."

"What do you mean—"

"Oatmeal!" the young monk named Francis burst through the door. "I hope you like it sweetened with dates, milady—er, your Queenship."

"Thank you, I am not sure. I have never had it prepared that way." Elsa's nose twitched at the warm, sweet smell coming from the clay bowl in the monk's hands.

"Oh, you will like it, I promise, your highness. Nina's a great, talented chef."

"You exaggerate, Francis." Abbot Belgr coughed with amusement. "But she does cook with love, and that always makes food taste better."

Elsa accepted the oatmeal from the young monk and the book caught his eye.

"Oh, the diary—"

"It's all right, Francis." The old monk stood up and shuffled towards his chair. "The young queen and I were just discussing the safe-keeping on the book. Francis is its new guardian, so he will assuredly see that it doesn't leave this abbey."

The Grand Master Abbot sank into his chair. "Francis, my boy, why don't you summarize what we've learned from this book so far while the queen breaks fast?"

"Okay, okay, okay, okay…" Anna ran down the hallway, checking that everything was clean and in order.

"Wow, the palace cleans up nice." Olaf hummed as he trailed behind her.

"Olaf!" Anna checked her hair. "You need to keep out of sight—we need to ease the Prince into life here at Arendelle."

Kristoff entered the hallway, struggling to adjust his cravat. "Yeah, why don't you go keep Sven company in the stable? This sure is a whole lot of trouble to impress—what's this guy's name again?"

"Prince Stig Rusul Sala." Anna helped straighten his cravat and dusted off the shoulder on Kristoff's jacket.

"That is one awful name."

The bugles began to sound, and Anna swallowed her retort and ran to the castle doors. "Positions! Positions! Open the gates!"

Kristoff stiffly stood beside her as the gates pulled open. She had a hard time keeping the butterflies down and not bouncing in anticipation. She felt Kristoff's fingers lace through hers and give a gently, heartening squeeze.

"It will be all right. I'm sure he's a great guy."

"I wish Elsa was here…"

"I promise, as soon as I can take off this cravat, I will go find her."

She squeezed his hand back, feeling a little reassured as a lone horse and rider passed through the gates. Anna found it a little odd that the prince rode without an entourage, but maybe southern continent people did things differently. She shouldn't judge. Right, God this was as slow and drawn out as anything could be. Hurry up horsey, hurry up…

She finally got a good look at the Prince. He was handsome, with dark, olive skin and hazel eyes. His hair was hidden beneath a large turquoise turban ornately draped in pearls pinned into the wrappings by gold pins shaped like birds. The gold theme threaded through a decorative silk jacket down to shimmering pants and gold and ruby inlaid shoes.

"Whoa." Anne was blinded by his brilliance. "We should've brought out more tapestries. We'll look like paupers."

"Ex Nay." Kristoff hissed as the Prince dismounted.

"Princess!" the visitor bowed deeply, kissing Anna's hand.

"Uh-oh ho, um, Prince Stig Rusul Sala… pleasure to meet you."

"Please, soon we will be family; call me Stig as my brothers do."

"You don't have twelve older brothers by chance, do you?"

Prince Stig laughed heartily, revealing white teeth and adorable dimples. "No, no—just four. I must say, your majesty—rumors of your beauty have spread far, but fall too short of standing before your glory."

"Oh!" Anna laughed, flustered. "Well, um thank you… a girl always like to hear she's pretty—I'm Anna, uh, Elsa's younger—"

"Taken—"Kristoff glared over her shoulder.

"Er—sister." Anna shrugged, trying not to blush too hard.

"Ah, Princess Anna!" Prince Stig released her hand, bowing deeply again. "My apologies—I was expecting to be greeted by my betrothed… and I was so struck by your beauty I cannot imagine that two creatures as lovely live under the same roof."

"Oh ho ho! Such a charmer." Anna gave up trying not to blush. "Well, um, let's start the tour… and um, Elsa will be joining us later… she's—er, really, super excited to meet you... but, um, she's … um, indisposed… at the moment?"

She could still feel Kristoff glaring.

"Well, yeah! So, okay, Prince um, Stig—let's start the tour! Follow me!"