"You look well rested," Queen Alice commented.

"No wedding jokes, please," Elsa said, anticipating a thinly veiled ribald jest from her mother-in-law. She was certainly not going to tell either of her in-laws that she and Anna had spent the night in separate rooms. Or even if they hadn't, Elsa still would have been tight-lipped about it. With Elsa's nod, footmen began to serve breakfast.

Frederick made vaguely pained sound. "Especially not about that, Alice," he said hoarsely. He looked like he was nursing a hangover and attempting to hide it.

Alice peered at her husband. "You look a bit peaky, dear," she said. Her tone was bland, but there was an undercurrent of… something. Whatever it was, it made Frederick blanch and reach for his cup of coffee.

Elsa frowned as she regarded Alice and Frederick. They were seated across from each other with Elsa at the head of the table. She had to shift her eyes back and forth to observe them and did exactly that in faint confusion.

"Did you overindulge last night?" Alice asked her husband.

Frederick swallowed his coffee in great gulps that likely scorched as it went down. "No more than anyone else," the king evaded. Frederick sounded… apprehensive, Elsa realized. What was going on? Elsa was by no means an expert on marital relations, but she'd never seen Frederick and Alice acting thus.

"Well, given how most of the guests left in some kind of inebriated state or another…" Alice continued in the same mild voice. "Shall I have a tonic made, dear?"

Frederick coughed as a footman refilled his cup with more steaming coffee. "No need," he croaked. "I'm just… weary. From the revelries." The king was saved from saying more when Anna came into the room in a hurried dash.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry I'm late!" Anna said. A footman dodged out of her path as Anna went to her place to Elsa's right. Her wife was dressed appealingly in a form fitting ivory day dress of fine wool with light green trim around the waist and bodice. Her hair was tied back in the same way Elsa's had been during the party, the copper a flowing banner behind her. Elsa realized she was unconsciously smiling at Anna as the younger woman drew closer.

Instead of taking her seat by Elsa, however, Anna stopped at Elsa's elbow and leaned down in a single smooth motion, as though it was something they'd done daily. Elsa's eyes widened as she realized what Anna was doing.

Anna was going to kiss her right in front of her parents.

Soft lips pressed chastely against Elsa's own. Elsa could do nothing but hold very still—she did not quite trust herself to act in whatever way Anna expected her to. The queen could heat rising up her neck as well as Alice and Frederick's eyes on them. She didn't dare look their way.

Then Anna pulled back just slightly and leaned back in toward Elsa's ear.

"Play along," Anna whispered. The younger woman straightened and smiled at Elsa.

"Good morning," Anna said in an voice that was just a tad too bright. She was putting on a show and Elsa had just been conscripted to perform with her.

The queen cleared her throat discreetly and returned the greeting with a benign smile of her own.

"Good morning." She imagined Anna wanted them to look like besotted newlyweds. Elsa thought she ought to be convincing; the queen didn't have to feign it, though Anna looked a little deranged with her mouth smiling too wide like that. If that smile was supposed to look loving or however happy wives were supposed to smile, then Elsa hoped Anna had no aspirations for theater.

"You may want to sit, dear," Alice said. "The food's getting cold."

"Oh, right," Anna said. She skirted around Elsa's chair and allowed a footman to pull her chair back to seat her.

"Coffee?" Elsa asked, still avoiding looking at her in-laws.

Anna's nose wrinkled. "No, thank you. I don't know how you can drink yours black. Tea, please." A maid stationed by the serving bar approached with a teapot and poured. Anna stirred milk and sugar into her tea and sipped.

"You look lovely today," Elsa told her wife. The comment was sincere and not for show.

Anna smiled back and, after a surreptitious glance at her parents, returned, "You look very nice today, too." A gleam entered Anna's eye. "And in a dress. It suits you."

"Someone told me I look good in both feminine and masculine clothes," Elsa said lightly. "I wanted to diversify."

"I'm sure that someone would be pleased that you took their words to heart," Anna grinned. It was a genuine grin, and one that did not make people want to shift their eyes about for the nearest exit. Elsa smiled back because whenever Anna looked that happy, she couldn't help but mirror the sentiment. Then she realized they were both smiling stupidly at each other as plates laden with smoked salmon, cheese and eggs were being served.

Elsa turned to her food to distract herself. "Bread?"

Anna began to cut up her salmon and nodded. "Please."

Elsa passed the plate over and glanced at Frederick and Alice. Alice had turned her attention to her own plate and Frederick appeared to be trying not to gag over the scent of eggs. Neither were paying much mind to Elsa or Anna, so the queen said, very quietly, "How was your sleep?"

"Lonely," was Anna's immediate, equally subdued reply. Anna paused to look Elsa dead in the eye. "I would have slept better if a certain someone was there."

She should have expected an answer like that, but Elsa's hand still froze mid-motion for the briefest moment. Elsa considered the first response that came to her, which was to admonish Anna and retreat into propriety, and that was when she hit upon a moment of pure clarity—what did it matter? They were married. Anna was in good spirits and wanted to appear happy for her parents. And it was just idle, though somewhat inappropriate, conversation, which was also something Elsa had not engaged in in a long time with anyone aside from servants or subjects. She had often taken meals alone in her study unless there was some guest or other she had to entertain, which had been very rare.

Elsa decided she would humor Anna.

"There would not have been much sleeping, then, if you had company," Elsa said, her face guileless. "Unless you intended to rise after midday."

Anna stared at her, jaw unhinged. She had obviously not expected Elsa's verbal volley.

Elsa wanted to laugh and ate a forkful of egg instead. By then, Anna had recovered and was chewing on a bit of flatbread with a thoughtful expression.

"If I may," Anna started.

"Yes?"

The younger woman put down her flatbread and leaned her cheek into her palm, her attention rapt on Elsa. "I think I may be… uneducated in these matters. Perhaps you could describe what would have prevented an early rise from bed?"

It was Elsa's turn for her jaw to drop. She quickly glanced over at her in-laws again and saw neither Frederick nor Alice were paying them any attention at all; Frederick was gingerly eating a piece of salmon and Alice was engrossed in a newspaper. Their exchange so had far been conducted in hushed tones, but were they really going to do this? Over breakfast? And in the same room and seated at the same table as Anna's parents?

If Anna's smug, triumphant look was any indication, then yes, they were going to have an innuendo-laden conversation, and if Elsa did not respond, then Anna would be the de facto winner. And Elsa hadn't ever been able to turn down a challenge from Anna, her competitive nature stirring.

"Well, as you would know given your fondness for horseback riding, vigorous activity can cause one to oversleep," Elsa stated matter-of-factly, as though she was reading a passage from a book. "I'm sure that the matter of which you spoke of would need to be… very vigorous," she finished, voice lingering over the last phrase. She hoped it sounded as suggestive as she thought, even though Elsa had no experience in the kind of vigorous activity they were speaking of. And then that thought led to her wondering if Anna really would need that kind of… performance.

A faint blush settled over Anna's cheeks at her words. Anna's lids lowered and a pink tongue flicked out to wet her lips. Elsa stared at it in mute fascination.

"As you said, I do like riding," Anna replied slowly. "And I think I am very fit. It would have to be exceptionally vigorous for me to oversleep, don't you think?"

Elsa's hands tightened around her fork and knife as Anna's meaning sank in. They were flirting. Oh, god, they were flirting with each other. Elsa had never flirted with anyone in her life. And more shockingly, she was finding the exercise inexplicably enjoyable.

"I would concur," Elsa finally managed. "But you seem to be expecting a partner of equal physical ability to… achieve the intended effect."

"Well, a skilled rider can wring quite a bit more spirit out of a fit mount," Anna smirked.

Oh, god. How was she supposed to respond to that? Elsa managed to control her blush, but just barely. "I might suggest more… open-mindedness. In that regard, that is." Elsa hoped, anyway.

"Oh?" Anna's smirk became wicked. "Please elaborate on this. Would it be a matter of skill, then?"

Elsa nearly groaned. What had she gotten herself into? They were heading into dangerous waters and Elsa wasn't sure if she wanted to steer them back to safety. Or if she even could—Anna seemed determined on continuing on their current trajectory.

"Perhaps experience as well?" Anna offered.

"One would presume," Elsa acceded. "I was brought up to believe that mastery can always be further honed by more… practice." But how? Elsa wondered. She was saying things and uncertain how true they were; she wondered if that sort of thing could be practiced, like with dancing.

They were entirely engrossed in each other and did not notice eyes watching them curiously.

"What do you think they're whispering about?" Alice asked her husband.

Frederick's headache had not improved with food and coffee. He'd also burned his mouth earlier on the coffee, so not only were his temples pounding, but he could not eat anything without wanting to whimper for mercy. The king glanced at his daughter and daughter-in-law.

Anna's lids were hooded and she was looking at Elsa with what appeared to be a secretive smile. It was not dissimilar to the expression Frederick had seen the previous evening when they'd danced together—somewhat dreamy and distracted, though there was a hint of playfulness, too. Elsa was more composed in comparison, but Frederick thought her attention was entirely focused on her wife to the point that he doubted Elsa would react if he called to her.

He didn't think anything was particularly amiss and shrugged. "They were just wed yesterday. Perhaps wedding jokes." Frederick was finding it difficult to use his brain at the moment, so that was the best he could do.

Newspaper rustled as Alice turned a page. "Perhaps. They do appear quite suited, don't you think? Even if they only just wed."

Frederick didn't think he could manage conversation, but he didn't want Alice to think he needed that accursed tonic either. "Very well. They'll be happy together."

"A good match," Alice agreed absentmindedly. "For both of them. I admit that I hadn't imagined it when Alexander had first offered, but now…" She glanced again at the pair in question. "Well, I cannot see them more suitably matched with anyone else, now." Alice pursed her lips. "I do wonder what had made Alexander suggest it, though."

Frederick looked at the two again, their heads bent together—red and blonde contrasting, but matched well, just as Alice had said. He'd been just as surprised, if not more, as his wife had been when his old friend had offered Elsa to Anna. Not that Elsa wasn't worthy of his daughter, it was just that, well, she was female. Frederick hadn't been able to countenance the idea and had initially turned the offer down, though it was probably more from surprise than anything else.

But Alexander had been exceptionally persuasive and forceful. He'd been so determined for Elsa to have Anna, pursuing the matter with such unflagging persistence that Frederick wasn't sure if he'd given in out of exasperation or if it'd been Alice who'd eventually brought him along to the idea.

Despite his earlier resistance, Frederick did not regret allowing the marriage. He knew Elsa would take care of Anna, and do so earnestly. Not like those fool lordlings who'd courted Anna so haphazardly, flouting the betrothal in the safety of sheer distance between the two kingdoms after Alexander's death, and acting under the belief that the engagement was some kind of lark, for what king would allow his daughter to wed another woman? Even if the other party was exceptional in every way, from lineage to wealth and reputation, the then-Princess Elsa was a woman. Had Elsa been a man the match would have made every kind of sense, and those hungry hounds wouldn't have dared even look at Anna in any way but excruciatingly proper.

Frederick could only be thankful that Elsa had never found out about the untoward attention, as much as he'd tried to discourage it, for Elsa was very much her father's daughter. Frederick could see shadows of Alexander in her and, most tellingly, his temper. It was a common trait in Arendelle rulers, probably to do with all the power their gold afforded them as well as the accompanying arrogance, but a terrifying thing to behold when given the chance to show itself. Those suitors who'd tried to court Anna and presumed Elsa would not react in the similar manner as her father because she was a woman would have been very wrong; Frederick knew Elsa would not have tolerated such an affront, no matter how youthful and untested she was.

Making an enemy of Arendelle meant annihilation in one form or another—most prayed that it was immediate, like a duel or challenge, because the long term kind could cast the pall of an entire house's ruin over the coming years, leaving its members to wonder when the guillotine would fall. Sometimes the threat of that alone was enough to have the offending member ostracized by his own family in an attempt to ward away chance of retaliation. Alexander would not have been above meting out that particular brand of vengeance. When he was alive, Alexander had been fiercely protective of his family and so very proud, like a golden lion. He'd been entirely unashamed that his heir would be a queen and not a king, and had taken measures to ensure that Elsa's claim to the throne would be undisputed.

While Alexander had never outright abused his power, previous Arendelle rulers had not possessed the same scruples—Frederick maintained to this day that it'd been Marina who'd tempered her husband before he'd been given the opportunity to… act less honorably than he should, no matter how deserving the offense. Though Alexander's restraint would have been especially tested when it involved unflattering words toward Elsa and her engagement to Anna—Frederick could not imagine how Alexander could have contained righteous fury unless stories of retribution had been kept from Frederick's ears.

Nonetheless, the betrothal had been fulfilled and Frederick would no longer have to contend with contemptible heiress hunters chasing his daughter about. It would be Elsa's duty to protect Anna now.

"I don't know, either," Frederick finally replied. "But I'm glad we allowed it."


At the moment, though, Elsa didn't feel like she was much of a match for Anna. Her wife was proving to be as adept at verbal fencing as she was at riding. Obviously Anna had more experience with this kind of sparring than Elsa, and Anna was not displaying any kind of leniency despite her disadvantage. And Anna had claimed she wasn't good with words only the night before—clearly a ruse to trick her into lowering her guard, Elsa imagined.

"I think the only way to confirm these assumptions would be to perform field experiments," Anna proclaimed.

"Do inform me how you intend to conduct these experiments with our current living arrangements," Elsa retorted.

Anna's smile turned coy. "Well, if I am remembering correctly, you'd simply go from the King's chambers, through the Queen's chambers—"

"More like the Queen's personal village. I may need a map to find you."

"You have your ancestors to thank for that. Or did you want me to find you?"

Elsa flushed. The thought of Anna coming to find her was far too alluring, so she decided against responding to it. "I'd probably die of exhaustion if I ever got lost in there," she said instead.

Anna laughed. "Is your form that poor, Elsa?"

Elsa rolled her eyes. "I ride desks, not destriers." Literal meaning aside, Elsa really did nothing that could even laughingly be called physical activity. If Anna's skill lay in the reins and bridle, then Elsa's was the pen and ledger.

Her wife grinned. "Arendelle's stables hardly has any war horses, unless you've made some new additions."

Well, now was a good a time as any to bring that up. "I have, actually."

Anna's expression lit with interest—the subject of horses always did. "Oh?"

"It's not quite up to the standard of Corona's, but the stables have been renovated. I've bought a few new horses as well." Elsa glanced away briefly, nerves suddenly overtaking her. "Consider it a wedding gift." It actually was a wedding gift, but Elsa didn't want to invoke obligatory gratefulness where it might not be deserved; forced nonchalance seemed best to resolve that issue.

Anna's lips parted in surprise. "Oh," she breathed. "How—how many did you buy?"

"About two dozen thoroughbreds. Arendelle doesn't really have an established presence in horses like Corona, but I thought you might like them for, well, breeding stock. Several have sired proven racers and I'm told there's quite a few who are excellent for, well, anything you wish to do." After several moments of silence, Elsa searched Anna's face anxiously. "Do you… not like that?"

"What? No, no, that's not it," Anna answered. She blinked rapidly. "Elsa," she finally said. "I know we're doing this courtship idea of yours, but I have to tell you that I really want to kiss you. Right now."

Elsa's eyes flicked to Frederick and Alice even as her body leapt in response to Anna's words. Anna liked it. Elsa had done something right and Anna liked it. "Your parents—"

"Then you'd best make your excuses if you don't want me to kiss you right in front of my parents," Anna warned, her eyes gleaming with purpose.

Elsa swallowed. Anna was serious. They had flirted, but it was her mention of horses as Anna's wedding gift that had pleased her. Elsa felt her mouth go dry at the way Anna was looking at her and she knew she needed to leave the room immediately because Anna would follow through with her threat, audience or not. And she imagined that kind of kiss would not be the polite kind from earlier.

The queen rose unsteadily. Frederick and Alice looked at her, then pointedly down at Elsa's half-finished plate. "I'll be…" Where was she supposed to be? She couldn't even remember if she had a schedule or meetings for the day. That hit to the head in the library earlier had addled her, Elsa decided. "In my study," she finally finished, albeit weakly. She didn't dare look at Anna, whose shoulders were quivering faintly with suppressed laughter.

Well, she was just a fount of entertainment today. Elsa wondered if she'd have any shred of dignity left by the end of it.

She retreated once again, her metaphorical white flag probably looking worse for wear.


Anna wanted to follow Elsa, but her parents were there and bolting after the queen didn't look good for anyone.

But they were married, came the thought. They were allowed to do… whatever they liked. Within reason. Anna wondered if Elsa had coined that stupid phrase and if she'd been inadvertently quoting the queen in her own thoughts. It sounded exactly like the kind of thing Elsa, sensible and logical Elsa, would say.

Except it hadn't been sensible and logical Elsa who'd just been flirting with her, and over breakfast, no less. All those innuendos and repartees—Anna had positively delighted in them. Anna wasn't as skilled as some other ladies she was acquainted with in Corona, but interacting with Elsa seemed to coax out the witticisms like moths to flame.

In spite of what she'd said, though, Anna had actually slept well. The previous day had been exhausting and she'd slept deeply, which had in turn made her late for breakfast. Seeing Elsa seated with her platinum hair in her customary bun and that lovely blue dress and jacket had made her hasty flight to the dining room (Anna had gotten lost on the way down and had to hail a footman to direct her) worth it, though. It hadn't occurred to her until she'd already arrived that her parents, especially her mother, might expect certain… behaviors. And she didn't want them to pry, least of all about her own marriage. Planting a kiss on a remarkably obliging Elsa had also made that little show worth it.

And then Elsa had told her about the horses and the stables and Anna knew, even though Elsa had said it offhandedly, that it wasn't a small matter. Elsa had put a great deal of thought into it, even if Elsa couldn't tell a hackney from an Arabian; it was the gesture itself that had made Anna's breath catch. Anna had realized in that moment in spite of Elsa's insistence on distance, Elsa cared. The queen wanted Anna to be happy and had done things that she thought would make Anna happy.

Buying enough clothes to outfit every person between Arendelle and Corona, cleaning up the royal stables, and acquiring enough horses to start an entirely new breed… these were not things friends did, no matter how confusing Elsa behaved. And Anna couldn't forget about all those kisses, even if she wanted to.

Whatever Elsa said, Anna knew beyond any kind of doubt that what Elsa felt wasn't platonic in any light. Elsa was hiding something from Anna for some reason—Anna couldn't fathom what was going on in that brain of hers, but Elsa had probably made it far more complicated than it actually was. And Anna was going to pry it out of her one way or another, the obstinate mule.

Fired by resolve, Anna stood with her chair scraping noisily behind her. A footman scrambled to help pull the chair back, but she was already up and looking down the table.

Her father winced at the clatter and her mother didn't even look surprised.

"I'm done," Anna said without preamble. Actually, she didn't even care if she'd waited an appropriate amount of time to go chasing after Elsa. Monarchs didn't have to answer to anyone as she'd so often reminded Elsa, who in turn also liked to remind Anna that the princess consort only answered to the queen.

"Shall we expect you for lunch, then?" Her mother asked.

Anna blinked. "I just had breakfast."

"Yes, but you have that look on your face that means I probably won't be seeing you for several hours," was the dry response.

Did she? Anna frowned. "Probably. Maybe." She thought of Elsa's stubbornness. "No, don't wait for us."

"Give Elsa our regards," her mother said blandly.

Anna nodded absently, already on her way out.


Elsa wasn't entirely sure what she was going actually do in her study, only that she'd said she would be there. She told herself she was not going there just in the off chance that Anna follow to carry out her promise.

"Your majesty." Kai approached as she came to the bottom of the stairs. "A message came for you." The butler had an envelope in hand.

"Oh?" Elsa took the envelope and studied the ornate script on the front. Her Majesty, Queen Elsa, it read. She hadn't expected any messages. "From?"

"I'm afraid the courier didn't say."

The handwriting was feminine and the stationary of high quality and heavy. As Elsa broke the unrecognizable wax seal on the back, her nose wrinkled when she caught a whiff of cloying rose-scented perfume—definitely from a woman. She glanced through the letter.

For Her Royal Majesty, Queen Elsa—

Much felicitations again on your nuptials. I'm sure you'll recall my compliments to your wife. I do hope you also remember your offer for our engagement after the lovely ceremony. I certainly remember how attentive you were as we danced last night. I look forward to speaking with you again over our shared interests.

Peut-être pourrions nous faire connaissance?

Ever yours,

Charlotte, Comtesse de Artois

Elsa's eyebrow twitched. Paper crinkled beneath her fingers. The audacity of that woman. She'd purposely worded everything in a flirtatious manner. And the last sentence had suggested that Elsa and the countess could be further acquainted, except the word she'd used, "connaissance," literally meant acquaintance and euphemistically meant "mistress." Elsa's stance on social abstinence was only growing stronger if this was the kind of attention she would have to contend with. She wondered how her father had dealt with things like this.

"Kai!" Elsa barked. The butler hadn't budged since she'd started reading, but he still snapped to attention at her tone.

"Your majesty?"

"Send word to Holsen and Calhoun for a meeting tomorrow morning," Elsa growled, referring to the attorneys the royal family retained. "Set an appointment for ten o'clock." She glared down at the letter as though it was multi-legged and venomous. "Is that courier still here?"

Kai shook his head. "No, your majesty. He made no mentions of needing a reply."

So the countess hadn't expected a meeting today. Elsa stuffed the letter back into the envelope. "If another letter comes, inform me at once. And tell Holsen to gather anything he has on Artois and Collier Company. British railroads," Elsa added for context.

Kai's eyes widened. Like every servant at the party, he'd heard of what happened between the French countess and the queen. "Yes, right away, your majesty."

"And not a word to Anna," Elsa said. She didn't want Anna stopping her, and certainly not after the hurt the countess had inflicted on Anna during the party. Elsa wanted to set fire to the letter—it'd probably make a colorful flame with the liberal perfume application that'd gone into it, but she knew she ought to save it for the appointment with Holsen and Calhoun tomorrow. They would dig up whatever there was to find on the countess and then Elsa would crush her into dust.


Anna got lost again trying to find Elsa's study. The castle apparently had multiple studies reserved for the current monarch and finding the one Elsa used required Kai's help. She'd happened to pass the butler while he was walking down the hall with uncharacteristic haste and he'd pointed her to where Elsa would likely be.

When Anna finally found Elsa's study, she gave a perfunctory knock and opened the door.

"Elsa?"

The study was surprisingly small unlike the rest of the castle, but handsomely appointed. A dark red Aubusson rug was spread out to cover most of the floor and a large gleaming mahogany desk sat on top with a pair of chairs before it. Bookshelves brimming with leather tomes lined the walls and sunlight poured in through the uncovered windows behind the desk. Two settees faced each other in an unoccupied corner with a low table between them. It was cozy—all gleaming wood and dark colors, quite masculine and business-like, in fact, but radiating warmth.

But Elsa was not present. Anna pouted. She was certain she'd correctly memorized the directions Kai had given her. Standing there would do no good, and the room did look like it was frequently used—Anna could see a neat stack of parchment on the desk and fresh firewood by the fireplace. It even looked recently dusted.

Curiosity got the better of her; Anna told herself that Elsa had promised she could watch the queen work and perhaps Elsa would not mind if she just looked around. Even though the study felt cozy, Anna still didn't quite feel that she belonged there. She was jumpy and nervous, as though someone might come in at any moment and shoo her away. Which was nonsense because Elsa had said she could at least watch. How could Anna watch without being in the same room?

With forced casualness that felt like she was trying to convince herself, Anna wandered to the bookshelves to examine its contents. Some of the titles were in English, but far more were in other languages, including Latin. And some didn't even have any titles at all, which was when Anna realized they weren't literature; they were ledgers. She'd just started to reach out to touch one when she heard approaching footsteps. And they were close, close enough that when Anna spun away guiltily, Elsa was already striding into the room, head bent over a piece of paper that looked suspiciously like a card in her gloved hand and muttering to herself.

"Going to find this—Anna?" Elsa stopped short in surprise. "Oh. Hello. I didn't know you were in here."

Anna shrugged awkwardly, her hands tucked behind her back as though Elsa might see red painted upon them. "I was, ah, looking for you. I finished breakfast and, um. Kai told me you'd be here."

"Oh. I was actually in my room—" Elsa cut herself off and walked to the desk. "I was just getting something." She opened a drawer, dropped whatever was in her hand in, and shut it. "I have a business appointment tomorrow. I was just… getting prepared for it."

"Oh." Elsa sounded unwilling to elaborate and Anna tried not to let that sting.

"It's just a meeting with my attorneys," Elsa added. She was watching Anna closely and had seen something despite Anna's attempt to conceal. "It's not for a matter of great importance." Elsa hesitated, and then sat down on one of the two chairs in front of her. She nudged the empty chair with a foot and motioned for Anna to sit. Anna obeyed and they faced each other as equals.

"Are you going to give me a lesson in business right now?" Anna asked with a small smile. The mood felt a little tense in spite of the fact that Elsa was sitting in front of her instead of at the position of power behind the desk.

Elsa folded her hands in her lap and appeared very serious. "No. Not this very instant." She regarded Anna intently. "Is that what you want? Lessons in business affairs?"

Anna exhaled. "I—I'm not sure," she admitted, surprised at her own honesty. She had not expected to talk about this when she'd walked into Elsa's study. "But I've spent most of my life being told that it's not my place to have anything to do with… important things."

"Who told you this?" Elsa asked after a long pause, her face inscrutable. Her voice was deceptively soft. Anna would later wonder how she could have missed it.

"No one in particular." Anna fidgeted, suddenly uncomfortable. She was starting to feel foolish for talking about this, and especially with Elsa, of all people. She'd never said anything to anyone before, even when she and Elsa had seen more of each other when they were younger. And Anna wasn't even sure when these feelings had started to crop up; they just felt like they had always been there.

Elsa's gaze focused hard on Anna. Anna was suddenly struck at how much Elsa resembled Uncle Alexander at that moment; she had her mother's aristocratic face and beauty, but her father's expressions and mannerisms. It was discomfiting to watch Elsa's familiar face harden almost imperceptibly, her eyes turning into chipped ice, her jaw sharpening like a drawn blade.

God, Elsa was patently frightening at the moment, like she was ready to take someone's head off. Anna hoped it wasn't going to be hers—Anna had never seen her look that way before, except perhaps a bit like last night when she had been going on about the countess, but it hadn't been aimed at Anna then. It seemed like there were many sides to Elsa that Anna had never encountered before. The younger woman shifted uneasily in her seat under Elsa's eyes, feeling quite small and young.

"Are you sure no one has made you feel this way?" Elsa's voice was low again, but there was a rough note in it didn't elicit pleasant feelings at all; it was like the rasp of reptile scales sliding over rock, dangerous and foreboding. Her countenance and tone seemed to compel the truth out of Anna, forcing the words out of her in a clumsy jumble.

"I'm sure," Anna started. She wondered if this was what Elsa looked like when she was in the midst of business negotiations, those glaring eyes enforcing her will and demands. "It's just that, well, you know, I wouldn't be ruling anything when I came of age, not like you or Kristoff, and I'm only good for, you know, marrying—"

"That is not true," Elsa snapped, cutting her off.

Anna clamped her mouth shut immediately and stared down at her lap. The back of her neck and ears were burning, her hands clenched into fists on her knees. Her heart was beating an uneven tempo in her chest, quick and afraid. She could hear Elsa breathe in deeply, as though the queen was reaching for control.

"Anna, look at me."

Reluctantly, Anna raised her chin and looked warily.

"Your worth is not in who you marry," Elsa said, her face severe. "You are not—you are not cattle. You are more than just someone's wife."

"Am I, Elsa?" They were both surprised with her answer. Finding her courage, Anna pressed on. "I've always expected to marry. We have always expected to marry. But you were taught to rule, while I was… I was…" She bit her lip.

Elsa scowled. "Say it."

"I was taught to be ornamental. To attract a husband and make entertaining conversation and be pretty and useless."

The words hung heavy between them, solid as a door.

"Do your parents know about this?" Elsa finally asked. Her jaw had relaxed somewhat and she didn't look so murderous anymore, to Anna's relief.

"Of course not, Elsa," Anna sighed. "I've never told anyone. And please don't tell them. It's my duty, just like any other daughter of nobility." She glanced at Elsa. "Except maybe you."

"I took the same etiquette lessons as you did."

"Yes, but no one expected you to work to attract a husband. Or be subservient to one." Anna actually hadn't considered if Elsa would be if she'd married a man, but the thought was absurd. Elsa being forced to answer to someone else, beholden to some faceless lord? Anna could not imagine it at notion was akin to politely petitioning an ominously smoking volcano to not flatten your village. Asking wouldn't be enough—something on the scale of fervent prayers, grand temples and human sacrifices, perhaps. And it'd probably still blow up, anyway.

Point being, Elsa had always been expected to rule as the single absolute power in Arendelle and not share it with anyone. Anna knew Uncle Alexander had groomed Elsa specifically to lead, so there'd never been any question of who would be in charge once he passed away.

"Is that what you think, Anna? That you are… subservient to me?" Elsa asked, quietly.

"You did say you were my liege," Anna said lightly, hoping to alleviate the tension. Or maybe hide behind humor. She wasn't sure.

"That was—I didn't mean it like that," Elsa muttered, her jaw tensing again. "I'm sorry."

"No, that was a joke, Elsa. Maybe a bad one, but I didn't mean it that way, either." Anna meant that sincerely. Elsa had never looked down on her, even when Anna sometimes felt the queen had every reason to.

Elsa fell silent again, brow knitted and lips a tight line. "Anna, what you said about what you were taught… It isn't untrue," she began. "I won't insult you by claiming otherwise. Most ladies are expected to marry into other noble families, and are reared exactly for that purpose. But don't ever think that you are nothing more than that. You are—I don't think you are that. We may have had different expectations when we were younger, but it's different now. You don't—you don't have to allow that to define you."

Anna shrugged half-heartedly. "I suppose. I mean, I've already achieved what I was raised to do, right?" That had come out more bitter than she'd intended.

Elsa flinched. "I didn't know you thought that way of marriage."

Anna started in surprise. "No! No, that's not—not what I meant. I'm glad that I married you, I am. I was referring to just being groomed for it and not expecting to—to amount to anything more than that." She tried to smile and managed it, barely. It hurt to say the words out loud, to hear it in her own shaky voice, and to say it to Elsa, most of all. She'd forgotten how much she valued Elsa's opinion. Anna's eyes landed on her lap again; she didn't want to see Elsa's thoughts written on the queen's face.

At the top of her peripheral sight, the queen's hands clenched, then relaxed. One gloved hand crossed the gulf between them and settled over Anna's tightly clasped ones.

"Perhaps now isn't the best time to talk about… this," Elsa finished delicately, her voice soft. "I think I know a thing or two about expectations." And amounting to enough, was what Elsa didn't say, but they both knew. "And I think… I think we should revisit this, but at a more appropriate time. I'm sorry for my… reaction. I don't approve of anyone disparaging you, even if it's coming from you. You said earlier that you were looking for me," Elsa prompted.

God, she'd come in here wanting to kiss Elsa over horses and drag out whatever was on Elsa's mind, and they'd somehow ended up like this with Anna whining and Elsa offering her comfort like she was some lost puppy. She still couldn't make herself meet Elsa's eyes.

"Your silence has an exceptionally guilty air to it," Elsa remarked. "Should I expect Kai to come flying in here about another ruined suit of armor? And possibly involving a pony?"

That got her attention and had Anna's chin snapping up indignantly. "Elsa, you promised you wouldn't bring that up again!"

She was expecting laughter, but Elsa was only smiling at her. Her expression had turned considerably softer and looked nothing like Uncle Alexander anymore; at the moment, Elsa looked much closer to Aunt Marina, sweet and kind.

"Admiring Joan of Arc to the point of emulation isn't anything to be ashamed of," Elsa said. "She was a remarkable figure." Well, sweet and kind and teasing.

"Ahh, Elsa, stop it," Anna hissed, cheeks heating. "That was a long time ago! Gerda nearly took the skin off my bottom for that stunt, right after Papa tanned it raw for her!" And a grievous offense it'd been for Gerda to have taken a hand to a then-nine year-old Anna.

"Well, at least you and Kristoff shared the blame," Elsa continued placidly. "I was punished as well, if you'll remember." Elsa paused for dramatic effect while Anna's face burned brighter. "It was quite the performance, especially the broomstick lances and barrel lid shields." Her tone oozed with irony

"It seemed like a good idea at the time, all right? In hindsight, it was stupid—"

"You nearly ran Kristoff through," Elsa interrupted.

"I know!" Anna cried. "It was an accident and I felt really bad about it, all right? But Kristoff thought it'd be fun, too! And you had agreed to be the referee and herald!"

Elsa's brow did an impressive hike. "Your recollection of the event is flawed," she informed her wife. "I remember being locked in there with you and Kristoff precisely so I couldn't fetch someone to stop you two. I was an unwilling participant."

Anna honestly couldn't be sure if that'd been the case, but it did sound like something she and Kristoff would have done, so Anna didn't dispute her version. As a child, Elsa had acted long-suffering and stoically resigned to being dragged along on whatever adventures bored children could foment. Elsa hadn't always been like that, though; she'd only acted like, well, an adult when the ideas involved were exceptionally ill-advised.

Such as trying to reenact the Hundred Years' War as a jousting tourney with Anna as Joan of Arc to represent the French, and Kristoff as King Henry for the English. Two suits of armor had been sacrificed to give the makeshift tourney a more authentic air (to Elsa's protests, because those suits were partly the reason why her ancestors had lived long enough to make more Arendelles and allow Elsa to exist at all. Did those suits really have to be used for such an inglorious purpose?). Elsa's points that Joan of Arc had never participated in a tourney, much less learned to tilt, had fallen on deaf ears.

By some miracle, Anna had managed to smuggle in a pair of ponies, but with only bridles and no saddles. They'd soon discovered that the breastplates were far heavier than they looked and both had needed Elsa to help them mount. Then Anna and Kristoff had spent a good five minutes yelling obscenities at each other they'd heard from the stable hands to imitate the historical animosity between the French and English, complete with accents, but that'd mostly been for the childish thrill of saying forbidden words. Elsa had been wide-eyed and aghast at the flying profanities until they'd made her fish out a handkerchief and wave it as a starting flag, as though they were competing for Elsa's favor.

The instant they'd kicked their mounts into motion, the oversized helms on their heads had begun to swing to and fro wildly. Elsa had told her afterward that she'd managed to bypass Kristoff's shield and nearly bayoneted him with her broomstick while the older princess had looked on in slack-jawed disbelief at the farce unfolding before her.

The real damage, though, was when she and Kristoff had unhorsed each other by accident and landed in separate bone-rattling piles on the floor. The noise had echoed loudly throughout the empty ballroom, and alerted probably every person in the castle. Luckily, the ponies hadn't trampled them in fright and they had gotten away with nothing but sore backs and bruises. They'd all gotten severely punished for the episode; she and Kristoff had obviously deserved it more, but Elsa had borne hers without complaint. To this day, Anna still felt guilty for getting her in trouble.

"Watching you fall off that pony scared a few years off my life," Elsa commented. "And probably everybody else, what with the noise you two made." She shook her head at the recollection.

Elsa didn't say it, but the breath had simply left her body at the sight of Anna landing so dangerously close to her pony's hooves; Anna could have died, or at least been seriously hurt. She could still remember the way her heart had simply stopped in her chest and everything had slowed to a near standstill in her panic. Elsa had nearly blasted the pony away with her powers, but couldn't out of fear that it'd only frighten the beast and endanger Anna. She had never experienced such intense terror and helplessness before. Her punishment was well-deserved for not considering the danger beforehand and, privately, Elsa still blamed herself for having allowed it to happen in the first place.

"Not every single idea I had as a child was brilliant, I know," Anna agreed regretfully.

"Do you feel better, though?" Elsa asked, smiling slightly.

Anna breathed out. The memory had distracted her and she did feel lighter. Anna gave her a wry smile. "You always seem to know how to take my mind off things."

"And I would say the sentiment is mutual," Elsa replied. Her hand lingered over Anna's, the touch light and warm. "Would you like to go riding today? Maybe inspect the new horses and see if they're up to your lofty standards?"

Anna released a surprised laugh, relieved. "Only if you go riding with me." And then she loosened her hands to twine them with Elsa's and felt very happy at that moment. This was the Elsa she remembered, though she knew that Elsa had been right the previous night—they had changed. They weren't children anymore, but she wanted to know everything about the changed Elsa she'd married.


A/N: Thanks again to all the readers who've been following this story. This chapter is exceptionally fat at just under 7600 words, so my apologies if it felt interminably long; that's because it actually is interminably long. Constructive criticism is always appreciated.

I'd like to thank Chibikrys for her help with the French from chapter 5 and this chapter to make it sound more natural. This chapter is also unbeta'd, but I wanted to get it out as I'd promised to have it posted by today. I will update it with a revised copy once it has been looked over.

For anyone wondering, "Peut-être pourrions nous faire connaissance?" literally means "Perhaps we can be acquainted?" but has a very suggestive connotation. I am not sure if I conveyed that well in this chapter, so I wanted to clear that up in case it wasn't.