"—And tell that boy the fire needs stoking. This country's too damned cold—" Queen Matilda's dulcet tones carried out into the corridor, where Ada, apologetically, faced Kai. Kai, "the boy" wore his thinnest, most dangerous look of patience.
"If you'd send some coals up, that'd be wonderful," Ada translated.
"I shall see what I can do," Kai said curtly, thrusting the coffee Matilda had sent back four times into Ada's hands.
Ada brought the silverware tray into the parlour room, closing the door with her back. She set it down on the table where Queen Matilda was organising the chess board. Thankless, the old woman picked up the cup of black bitter coffee and took a sip. "Still not strong enough, but it'll have to suffice," she grunted, setting it back with a clatter on the saucer and turning her attention back to the chessboard.
"I could get you a blanket if you're cold, your Grace," said Ada.
Queen Matilda shot her a brief, scathing look. "Don't be an idiot," she said. "Go get me my lighter. And come here."
Dutifully Ada fetched the heavy metal thing and pressed it into Matilda's hand. She snatched it up and lit one of her stinking sour black cigarettes, gesturing with her other hand to the empty chair. "Sit," she said, and Ada sat. "Go on and take your turn."
Ada turned her attention to the chess pieces. She made her move, and Matilda took hers. Studying and considering, Ada said, "I was surprised how easily Queen Elsa acquiesced to our demands."
Matilda took a drag on her cigarette, blowing smoke from her nostrils like a withered old dragon. She chuckled dryly. "Disappointing, isn't it? Always more fun when they kick up a fuss first." She took Ada's pawn, sweeping it from the board with the back of her hand. "My favourite was that Scottish lord. Do you remember? The one that went mad and drowned himself in the loch when you threatened to tell his wife about the affair with his stepdaughter. Hah!" A sharp bark of laughter. "Still, Elsa surprised me. I didn't know what to expect from her. Dirty laundry on her father, perhaps. What you discovered was much more interesting… did you find much out about the sister?"
"She's an interesting girl," said Ada, contemplating her next move.
Matilda grunted. "I mean, anything we can use."
"She's not a virgin," said Ada with a shrug.
Queen Matilda made a noise of disparagement, taking another of Ada's pawns. "Who is these days?" she said. "Is that all you found?"
"I'm afraid, your Grace, she's one of those people you despise…"
"A good person? Tch!" the noise left Matilda in disgust. Ada took her knight. The Queen gazed up at her with narrowed eyes. "You've gotten good at this. Must be due to your teacher. You're a natural at strategy."
"Thank you your Grace."
…But, that didn't mean she enjoyed it.
"How'd Prince Jareth take the news?"
Matilda took a long drink of her bitter coffee. "Jareth will play his part."
"Will you allow Andrew to stay in Arendelle with him?"
"I wouldn't deprive the boy of his perversions. What else is there to live for?" Matilda said. Her sharp bark of a laugh.
Checkmate. Matilda flicked the last of Ada's pieces from the board. "Close. You're getting closer," she said, extinguishing with a hiss her cigarette in the thick, foul coffee. "Now… Cecilia, we ought to do your hair."
Sat on a little child's stool before the dressing mirror, Ada let herself be subjected to her queen's signs and caresses. "Cecilia, your hair's getting long again! We ought to have it cut soon," she said, and, "Your dress is filthy! Have your brothers been pushing you around again? They're nasty, bad boys. You must tell me if they're cruel to you and I'll punish them. I wish they'd be more like you Cecilia. You're my little angel."
As Queen Matilda hummed some old song to her dead daughter, scraping her hair up into tight braids, Ada stared into the mirror, looking back at her own blank eyes.
For seventeen years, she'd been the only person in the world to see her own face.
Shuffling her papers, Elsa flicked through today's agenda for discussion, wetting her finger to more easily peruse them. When she was done, she set them down on the round oak table. Her small council were arranged around her; the men she relied upon to run Arendelle. Franz sat her side. On the other, Admiral Westerguard, impatient as always, was drumming his fingers on the table. Beside him, Lund, the defence minister slouched, as well as Fredrickson and Erikson, who, respectively, oversaw the treasury and justice in Arendelle.
In the small wood panelled room, the fire crackled cosily in the grate. Out the window, it was overcast.
"Gentlemen. I believe we're all here. Are we ready to begin?"
Nods and noises of agreement and Franz smiled and said, "Whenever you are, your Grace."
"Then I thought we'd begin with discussing the budget for—"
She paused, however, when a knock came at the door.
"Come in," she said.
The door creaked open, and Anna appeared. She looked small, nervous.
Elsa cleared her throat. "Anna, I'm sorry but as you see I'm in a meeting right now—"
"I know," interrupted Anna. "I asked if I could join you. Yesterday." Her sentences short, punctual, awkward.
Yesterday seemed like a long time ago.
"Oh. Right. Please take a seat then."
Elsa perused back through her notes, as though to find her place. But the cursive script in front of her was a blur. She heard the chair scrape back beside her as awfully as if Anna had scratched her nails on a chalkboard. She couldn't look at her, but she felt her presence, a bright light like exploded stars behind her eyes.
Of course she hadn't forgot Anna said she wanted to come. She'd just thought there was no hope in hell she actually still would.
"The budget," she said, more to herself than her council. "I wanted to discuss the budget for the Paegent first. Fredrickson, are we on target?"
Fredrickson, a small man, his hair a cloud of white, face hidden behind oversized spectacles cleared his throat loudly. He shuffled his papers. "Well, your Grace, as I suspected we've had some expenses we didn't anticipate. For example—"
Why are you here? Elsa thought. In the corner of her eye, she saw Anna's hands on the table, her sister teasing the pink part underneath her nail with her left thumb. After what I said to you, why would you still come?
She forced herself back into the moment, as Fredrickson continued, "—However, we're not majorly off-course. Though if we could consider some cut-backs, it would be beneficial. I don't particularly want to bite into next year's budget, which we're liable to do so right now."
"Any suggestions?" asked Elsa.
"Cut back on the prize money for the contests?" suggested Erikson.
"We can't. They've been announced already," said Elsa.
The table threw suggestions around, but none of them were any good. Then Franz leant over and addressed Anna, "You're abnormally quiet, Princess Anna. Do you have any suggestions?"
"Me?" said Anna, sounding baffled she'd been asked, then quietened, as she considered. "Well… there's meant to be a banquet tonight, right? They're always expensive, so maybe we should just have another ball instead? And put out a buffet?"
"A good idea, but we already have another scheduled Princess," said Franz.
"Then make this one a masque ball," said Anna. "I bet everyone would enjoy that."
Noises of agreement from around the table.
"A masque ball…" said Franz. "Why, we haven't had one of those in years."
Fredrickson did some quick calculations on a scrap of paper. "That would bring us back in alignment with the budget," he said.
"An excellent idea, Princess Anna," Franz said, broad smile, hand on Anna's shoulder. She blushed, deeply, under the compliment. And Franz turned his gaze to Elsa. "Queen Elsa, perhaps your sister should join us more often."
She met Anna's gaze for a fraction of a second: it was shy, and Elsa could see the wound she'd left behind. Then Elsa looked away. "Maybe so."
However, as the meeting dragged on, she could feel Anna's interest waning. So much of what they discussed was minutiae, and disconnected to her sister's life. As Admiral Westerguard puffed up and gave his reports of Arendelle's borders, Elsa flicked a quick look at Anna, whose eyes were glazing.
Half way through the meeting, Cressa the maid knocked on the door and Franz held it open so she could come through with a tray of tea. The clock said they'd been here for over an hour. Anna sipped her tea tiredly and asked, "Is there much left?"
"We need to go through our agreements with our trading partners for the coming year and see if we want to make any changes," said Fredrickson. "Then we've the issue of tax, and I believe Lund here wants to discuss Arendelle's defences." The General nodded.
"…Oh," said Anna.
"You're welcome to leave us to it if you'd like Princess," said Franz.
But Anna shook her head, hands cupped round her teacup. "Don't worry about me. I'm fine."
"If you're sure," said Franz. "Then, on to the matter of tax. To pay for the new construction of—"
But, despite Anna's optimistic attitude, she couldn't keep it up.
"—And I'll leave you to choose our new captain of the guard, Lund. Now if—" Elsa was surprised when around her, people started laughing. Fredrickson started chuckling, Franz stifled a laugh behind his hand, and even the admiral smiled. Elsa followed their gaze and turned around to see Anna beside her, slumped in her chair, fast asleep.
"Perhaps…" said Franz, "perhaps this is a sign we're done for today," Franz said, smiling.
"I think you're right," said Elsa. Anna's mouth hung open like an ajar draw in her sleep. It was very cute.
She remained motionless as her small council packed up their things and said their farewells, sipping at her cool tea until she got a mouthful of dregs. She pulled a face and spat them out into the cup, glad no one was around to see. Then she turned round and looked back at her sister, still sleeping.
Her sister, a child of sunshine and fresh air. She didn't belong in these stuffy meetings.
Even in her sleep, Elsa thought she looked sad. There was a downturn to her mouth, a pinch to her eyebrows. She'd never asked Anna what she dreamt about before.
She put the cup back on the saucer with a clatter and stood. "Anna?" she said. "Anna, wake up. The meeting's over."
Her sister didn't stir. Elsa approached, reaching out to shake her by the shoulder.
"Elsa," Anna murmured in her sleep, and Elsa stopped. She looked so beautiful in her sleep. Freckles like stardust. Down of her eyelashes, her pink, adorable lips parted slightly. Head, tilted upwards, a font for a disciple to drink from.
She was seized by an unbearable urge. It would be so easy, to lean down, and while Anna was sleeping… she would never know…
Just this once, thought Elsa. It'll be… a goodbye kiss.
Sunshine spilt in through the clouds and into the room as Elsa lent down and joined her lips with Anna's. The softest of kisses. More a butterfly kiss than a real kiss.
She'd only just pulled back when a knock came at the door, and Gerda appeared, holding a ribbon in her hand.
"Anna, you must have dropped this in the hallway—" she started, before she noticed Elsa standing beside her. She curtsied. "Your Grace. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt you. I thought you'd left with the Arch Chancellor."
Elsa's hands curled tightly around her sides, arms pressed hard against her chest. "You don't need to apologise." She nudged her head towards Anna. "Come look."
Gerda moved round, and giggled behind her hand to see Anna sleeping in her chair. "Little lamb. You know, she sleeps the same way she did when she was little girl."
"She still sleep talks, too," said Elsa. She stood back and watched as Gerda fixed Anna's hair with the ease of familiarity. "I don't think she's used to sitting still for so long," she added, by way of explanation.
"I think you'd be surprised," said Gerda, trying the ribbon into a bow at the back of her head. "She's just tired. I don't think she got a lot of sleep last night."
Elsa bit her lip.
"Your Highness, I know it's not my place to say…" Gerda begun.
No, it's not. Anna had always been close to Gerda, the woman taking her in like family after their parents died. She would have done the same with her too, Elsa knew.
If she'd let her.
"Go on Gerda," the words left her like a sigh.
"You should make up with her. She told me about your argument, and I imagine it wasn't as much of a big deal as she thinks…. She's sensitive, your Highness. Things like this hurt her a great deal. Far be it from me to criticise the King, but…"
"Finish your thought. My father's in a place where no criticism will hurt him now," Elsa said softly.
"It's no good for a child to grow up as isolated as she, and yourself, your Grace. There are vital things she hasn't learnt. Like how to resolve an argument with someone you love. She simply doesn't know how. So it's up to you."
"…Maybe I don't know how either."
Gerda smiled. "You just say you're sorry."
…But, wasn't this what she'd decided on? Better to hurt Anna now, than destroy her later, if she discovered the truth.
She was a walking contradiction. She couldn't bear to be with Anna. Yet, being apart was even worse.
I'm just afraid of losing everything.
"By the way," said Gerda, "Anna told me you've chosen your suitor."
Elsa nodded, tightly. "Yes. I'd appreciate if you could keep it to yourself until the end of the Paegent, though. It's not official till then."
"Of course. Anna said it was a prince from the Spring City. A good match, I think."
Elsa nodded.
"It'll definitely be a change, to have another young man about the place…"
Elsa nodded. Gerda gave up. Smiling wryly, she touched Elsa gently, briefly, on the arm. "If you want to talk, I'm always around," she said.
The words left her throat hoarsely, "Thank you."
Gerda pulled up the door behind her.
What's wrong with me? I'm doing the same thing as before. I'm running away from my problems because I'm too scared to face them.
How would ignoring Anna for the rest of my life help anything? I'm not being noble. If I'm being anything it's selfish. You're my little sister. I'm supposed to take care of you. But in the end all I've done is think about my pain.
…How could I ever think of giving you up?
She sunk down on the hard wooden flooring by her sister's side.
"I'm so sorry Anna." She pressed her face into Anna's lap, into the soft folds of her dress, warm from the heat of her body. "I didn't mean those things. You know I didn't. I was frightened of myself. You never get in my way. I hate it when you say things like that about yourself, like you're a stupid or a screw-up..." her hands tightened, nails biting into her palms. "Don't you understand that you mean everything to me?"
"Elsa." Her head rose, her eyes meeting her sister's, awake and teary. "You really mean all that?"
How long had she been awake?
"I do," said Elsa, recovering quickly.
"So why… why did you say all those things before?"
"Because I'm tired of hurting you.
Anna's brow crinkled. "But why?" she asked. Elsa bit down hard on her bottom lip, and Anna cupped her face with her hands. "I don't understand Elsa. Why do you push me away? Haven't we already been through this before?" When she didn't respond and tried to turn her head away, gently Anna pulled her back. Made her look into eyes. "Elsa I want to know you… I want to understand. But you have to let me."
Under her sincere gaze, Elsa squirmed. "I can't," she said.
They were so close Elsa could feel Anna's warm breath on her face. "I have a confession," Anna said, low and breathy. "Earlier, I was only pretending to be asleep."
A stab of ice cold panic, in the pit of her chest. What a fool she'd been. "For how long?" she managed to ask.
"After everyone else left," Anna said. She frowned in confusion. "You... kissed me, Elsa," she said.
Panic, seizing up her body like a rusted clockwork toy. When she tried to pull away, Anna held her fast. It took everything she had to stop the ice crawling up her sister's fingers.
"Why?" Anna asked, but Elsa couldn't speak. "You're doing it again," Anna accused her, "I can see it in your eyes. You're closing me out."
What else am I supposed to do? she thought helplessly.
"I want to know," Anna demanded. "I have a right to know." To Elsa's silence: "If you hate me then just spit it out—"
"Of course I don't hate you!" Elsa spluttered. "Didn't I just say that?"
"Then why won't you tell me the truth?"
"Because I just can't." Before her sister could speak, Elsa interrupted her, "I won't lie to you Anna. But I can't tell you the truth either."
There was pain in Anna's voice. "Don't you trust me?" It hurt Elsa, too.
"With my life," she said.
"Then why…?"
Because I don't trust myself with yours.
Elsa slipped from her sister's grip. Anna let her go, watching in confusion and sadness.
"I'm just trying to protect you," Elsa said.
"You told me that one before, too," said Anna.
Yes, she had.
"I'm sorry," she said simply, before she walked away.
To be continued.