Elsa smiled, nodding along as the duke assured her of Weselton national paper price stability.

"Elsa!"

Elsa started, and said a silent prayer of thanks. "Excuse me," she said to the duke. "My sister." Without waiting for his reply she turned her back to him, and sighed in relief when she heard his heeled boots clacking away indignantly.

"Elsa!" Anna exclaimed again. She drew herself up in a show of formality, though her flushed cheeks undermined her official tone. "May I present Prince Hans of the Southern Isles?"

"Your Majesty." Prince Hans caught up with Anna, and bowed. When he rose, his perfect teeth glinted in a smile. He was all clean lines, from his white jacket to his pants to his neat red hair.

"How do you do?" Elsa looked from Prince Hans to Anna to the clasped hands between them.

"I—" Hans began.

"We," Anna interrupted, hanging off of Hans's arm. She looked up at him, giggling.

Elsa suppressed a grimace. Why did Anna have to embarrass herself?

Hans looked down at Anna. His smile didn't falter. "We," he corrected.

"We," Anna repeated, nodding. She looked back at Elsa, and concentrated on forming words. "We would like," she began, then the giggles returned and she couldn't finish. She turned to Hans for help.

"Your blessing," Hans added.

"For our marriage!" Anna and Hans burst out together.

Elsa's eyes widened. "Marriage?"

"Yes!" Anna cried. "I don't know when, but as soon as possible, obviously, and we were talking about September, but—"

Elsa threw up her gloved hand. "Stop!" She felt the eyes of the people around them, and lowered her voice. "You're not getting married."

Anna's mouth hung open. Her eyebrows came down. "Wait, what? Why?"

Elsa didn't know where to begin. Nearby conversations dried up as the three of them became the evening's entertainment. An icy tentacle caressed her intestines. She forced it down, far enough that she could almost pretend she didn't feel a cold pit in the base of her stomach.

"Anna, can we talk about this somewhere else?"

"No." Anna's voice was horribly loud. "Tell me. Tell me what's wrong." Her face contorted into a scowl. "What's your problem? I love Hans." She linked her arm through Hans's.

"And I love Anna," Hans added.

Looking at the two of them, the weight of the day fell on Elsa's shoulders. Tension was the only thing keeping her from folding like an accordion. "No, you don't."

It was the wrong thing to say. Anna's eyes narrowed. When she spoke again, her voice was lower.

"What do you know? You don't know anything about me. All you know is how to be by yourself, and I'm not good enough to hang out with you. I think you're jealous that finally someone wanted me instead of you!"

The tentacle reached out of Elsa's stomach to slap her heart. It took all her strength to stop the cold from flooding her whole body. "That's not true," she whispered.

"You just don't want to admit it," Anna whispered back.

Elsa looked down, focusing on the shape of her shoes against the hardwood floor. She had to get out. The noise of the crowd combined with the buzzing in her head was overwhelming.

"You asked for my blessing," she said. "The answer is no." She looked up one last time and tried to memorize what Anna looked like, even though Anna's face was red with champagne and anger. It could be a long time before they saw each other again.

"Goodbye, Anna." Elsa turned away and began shouldering her way through the crowd.

"Hey!"

Elsa cringed. She was almost out of the ballroom.

"I'm not done talking to you!"

Elsa turned around reluctantly, but concluded that this was probably for the best. She couldn't leave Anna alone with Prince Hans. Who knew what else would happen?

"Come on, Anna," she said. "Let's go."

"Wait!" Anna made a grab for Elsa's arm, and as Elsa tried to twist away, their fingers slipped together. Anna came away holding Elsa's glove.

Elsa looked down at her bare hand and opened her mouth to say something, but when she looked back up it got lost on the way to her vocal cords. Her mind blanked as she stared at the man standing behind Anna. Anna's mouth was moving in her peripheral vision, but all she heard was a faint buzz as she stared into the yellow eyes. She stepped backward, not looking behind her, not caring if she ran into anyone. The man—but he wasn't a man—the wraith followed her, passing through Anna as if she were only a puff of smoke. It was impossible to tell whether her ears were ringing or a voice in her head was screaming. The wraith's wormlike lips stretched into a smile, pulling his pale face taut and revealing a mouth full of sharp teeth. His yellow eyes glittered as he stretched out his arm to touch her.

Elsa's vocal cords began to work again. She screamed, and her naked hand came up to swipe the air. A deafening crack silenced all conversation in the room. Elsa's chest heaved. A wall of ice spikes glinted in front of her, reflecting the light from the chandelier. The wraith was gone. Through the wall, she saw Anna's arms slowly coming down from protecting her face. In her stupor, Elsa realized Anna's eyes were no longer angry. They were afraid.

"Elsa?" Anna's voice sailed over the silent ballroom.

A different voice pierced the hush. "A witch!"

Elsa turned and ran. The murmuring crowd parted for her, and she was out of the ballroom in seconds. She pounded down the hallway, darting around a surprised servant, and barely slowed to open the door to the outside.

Bursting out into the night, Elsa pulled up short. A moment later, the surprised assembly erupted in applause and cheers. Only now did she remember that tonight the castle grounds were open to all for the festivities.

Willing her feet to move, Elsa quickly descended the steps, pasting a smile on her face as she entered the crowd. The people did not let her pass. They pressed in from all sides, chattering, bowing, reaching out to touch her cape. She backed into a fountain and her hand flew back to catch her.

A crack rang through the air like a shot. Elsa jumped away from the fountain, turning to see the water had frozen mid-splash. This time she didn't wait. She took off, away from the gasps, away from each face that goggled as if she was a rabid dog.

"Stop her!"

Elsa threw a glance over her shoulder. The Duke of Weselton would not leave her alone! He was a silhouette on the steps, flanked by two of his guards. Just before she whipped her head back around she saw Anna elbow him out of the way.

"Elsa! Stop!"

Anna's voice only spurred Elsa to run faster. She finally cleared the throng, and broke free from the castle grounds.

The fjord spread out in front of her, dark and glassy. Voices mounted from behind, so she continued forward. She looked over her shoulder again, and heard a crackle from below. She looked down. In her distraction, she had walked right into the fjord. It was freezing under her feet.

Elsa took another step out onto the water, and it froze at the touch of her foot. The voices were closer. She looked across the water to the fuzzy shapes of mountains. There was nowhere to go but forward. At first she placed her feet gingerly, then faster and faster until she was running.

At last the shouts faded. The farther she ran from the castle, the easier it was to perceive the eerie silence broken only by her panting breath and the click of her shoes on the ice. She reached the opposite shore, slowed to a walk, then finally stood still. She looked back across the fjord to the town. The castle rose up above the other buildings like a mother hen guarding its chicks. Lights flickered in its windows and dotted the town.

Elsa turned back around. Through the treetops she could see mountains, peaks shrouded in fog. A piney scent wafted from the trees. She began to climb.

With every step, her breath came easier. Occasionally she glanced back, and the town quickly disappeared under a layer of clouds. As she climbed higher and higher, the air grew crisp and cool.

Turning to look back, Elsa realized she could not see Arendelle at all. The only sound was the muted whoosh of the wind. She closed her eyes and savored the silence. Her heartbeat leveled off. When she opened her eyes, she felt different. Snow was falling, turning dark green trees and bushes white. The ground rapidly disappeared beneath her feet. She stretched out her arm and watched snowflakes settle on her sleeve. As she walked forward, a chill crept up her arm, raising goosebumps on her skin. This cold didn't feel like the dark place in her stomach. This cold was like jumping into the fjord in the dead of winter. It was invigorating. The wind whipped her face, and she smiled.

Her cape flapped in the wind, a weight dragging her back the way she had come. Back towards Arendelle. Elsa frowned down at the clasp, and on impulse undid it. Her cape flew from her shoulders, and she was lighter. She turned to watch it disappear. Then she tore the lone glove off of her hand and threw that away, too. Both of her hands were now bare. She stared at her palms. A snowflake jumped out of her right hand and she jumped, gasping. At first she looked around, making sure no one was there to see, then it dawned on her. For the first time in her life, she was completely alone. Completely free.

Concentrating now, Elsa tried to remember what it had been like when she was young—before she'd lost control. A shower of snowflakes spilled out of her hands and she let them fall. There was no one up here to hide them from. She waved her arm through the falling snow and the snow moved with her. Her lips parted in awe. Lifting both arms, she beckoned, then spat out snow after it flew into her face. She grinned as she clawed snow off her tongue.

One flick of her wrist sent snow swirling around her, another made it shoot away in all directions. Elsa took off running. Her arms went out and trails of snow exploded from her palms, leading the way. She came to a gap between mountains. Peering down, the opposite cliff faces faded into darkness. The mouth of the gorge was a black pit. Her stomach flip-flopped. But the mountain across beckoned with a wide, flat area devoid of trees. Her fingers tingled as she imagined what she could do with it. As she stared across the gap, she saw a flight of stairs in her mind's eye as clearly as if they were really in front of her. Keeping the picture in her head as sharp as she could, she flung out her arms.

Icy stairs grew out of the mountain upon which she stood, stretching halfway across the gap. Elsa stared at the bottom step. A voice in her head whispered to her to shrink away, but a much louder voice was singing. Her chest felt light, and she could almost believe she could fly over the gap like a bird. She placed her foot on the bottom step. The step was solid, and that was all she needed. Launching off the step she raced up the stairs, creating the rest as she climbed. Once across, she studied the clearing. It was perfect.

She stomped her foot and a foundation of ice fanned out around her. Next she forced ice up from the ground to form walls and a roof. Baring her teeth in a grin, she imagined a second floor, and it rose with her. Stairs snaked down to connect it with the ground floor, and a balcony jutted out to overlook the gap she had forded. As a finishing touch, she coaxed a chandelier from the ceiling.

Striding out onto her balcony, Elsa smiled at the stairs bridging the valley, and the land beyond. A sliver of sun was just beginning to peek over the horizon. She reached into her hair and pulled out the pins keeping it coiled in a tight updo. Her braid flopped down onto her shoulder, and her scalp sighed in relief. She threw the pins out into the abyss. Running her fingers over her head, she ran into something hard. At once she knew what it was, and she pulled it free from her hair. The jeweled crown winked at her. She pressed her lips together, taking a deep breath. Then she hurled the crown over the side and watched it disappear the same way as the pins.

Relaxing her shoulders, Elsa walked back into the castle. She glanced up at the chandelier. Her reflection wavered in one of the enormous ice crystals, and at once her brain launched into action. Her life flashed before her eyes. She saw Anna snuggled up in a crib, then walking, then running around on short legs. She remembered her first snow sculpture—that was even before Anna. She couldn't remember anything about her person that far back, but she remembered how things had felt. She remembered gripping the knobs on a shepherd's crook with her fingers and falling asleep against a soft blue jacket. She remembered a big pair of hands guiding her along, and she remembered a smile. Then that smile was everywhere. They talked and raced and built elaborate snow forts against imaginary enemies. She remembered a name, Jack Frost.

What had happened to him? She was back at that night thirteen years ago, and her chest constricted. This wasn't what she wanted to see. She tried to go back to when she was young, when she was happy, but the memory pushed on inexorably. Slow down! she wanted to say to Anna, but Anna never listened. She watched her ice strike Anna in the head, watched Anna fall into the snow like a rag doll. A hand reached into her chest and squeezed her lungs. She couldn't breathe. She was in her bed and a face floated above her, a long, gray face with yellow eyes that glowed in the dark. The face bent and fuzzed over as her head grew heavy. She blinked, and caught a glimpse of the chandelier above her. Something was moving in the reflection. Then nothing.