Since my release from the dungeon, my time in Arendelle had taken one unexpected turn after another. I was yet to be interrogated by priests, poked, prodded and bled by alchemists, or made to squeeze out a drop of magic, like a dancing bear, for some old admiral or general.

I found myself occupying an ambiguous role, a kind of liminal space between captivity and hospitality. This strange princess, this warm, high-energy but surprisingly strategic girl, had shared her own meals with me. She had asked me questions about my family, my interests, my taste in books. She had dressed me in mundane, middle-class attire. And when I couldn't get the gods-forsaken thing on, couldn't even fulfill the most basic human requirement of dressing myself, thanks to this cursed damaged arm, then she just waltzed over and...touched me.

No hesitation.

Not the cold, detached touch of a scientist, nor the calloused man-handling of poachers or blackmarket captors. Not the fear or revulsion of pampered internal security, nor even the slimy pawing of the few rogues whose lust outweighed their fear.

It was the ordinariness of the moment that really got me choked up. I found myself thinking, this must be what it feels like to be normal.

This must be what it feels like to not be a monster.

I couldn't dwell on it, of course. It's dangerous to dream. And not five minutes earlier, she'd made it clear in no uncertain terms that any attempt to escape would not end successfully.

Of course, that's what they all said. And so far, they'd all been wrong.

Yet, something was different. I found myself hesitating.

Anna could dress it up in sweetness and light and concern but If I wasn't free to leave, then I was, for all intents and purposes, a prisoner of Arendelle. She had no need to win my favour, no reason to deceive me, no obligation to show kindness.

What did she want from me?

II

Anna fancied herself a rather excellent host. Giving tours of the castle and the surrounding city had always been one of her favourite royal duties. It just made her feel so needed. So important. She'd decided long ago that had she not been born with her occupation already predetermined, she would have liked to be a tour guide. Or an animal trainer. Alas, she was a princess.

Elsa seemed duly impressed by the gallery. Politely charmed by the tea-room. Pleased by the international artifacts. Anna had expected the library to be the star attraction, but it was the gardens Elsa didn't seem to want to leave. She inspected every tree, flower and bush like it was her job. Anna didn't dare disturb the intense focus. Perhaps she had some secret, invisible method of communicating with other magical beings of the surrounding woodlands. Perhaps a flock of pixies, or a centaur, or a cloud of sentient glowing mist would come and sneak her away in the night. It wouldn't sadden Anna all that much. Of course she wanted the novelty, the mystery, the magic all for herself. But the girl deserved to be free.

Anna didn't mind hanging around. It was so rare she had a chance to just dilly dally about in the gardens, and afternoons were still fairly warm and dry this time of year. Trees shimmered in crisp fiery tones, withered leaves fluttered to the ground, catching golden specks of light, into piles of umber, scarlet, orange, sepia. The hovered over the horizon, casting an ethereal pink over the whole scene. Elsa was still inspecting the cavity of a hollowed out tree.

'It's one of my favourites.' Anna said.

'Sorry?'

'This tree. When I was little, I always used to check inside it in the morning, to see if there was a surprise for me.'

'And was there? Ever a surprise?'

'No.' Anna moved in close to run her hand over the smoothed bark. She felt Elsa move away. 'But it's good to dream, isn't it? Come on. It'll be getting cold soon.'

A quietness had settled upon them since the morning and Anna let it be, for the moment. It was a strange, new, awkward situation for both of them. Less than twenty-four hours out of the dungeon. Anna hadn't fully composed her game-plan yet. She already had so much on her plate.

Back in Anna's bedroom, the fireplace had been lit. Candles flickered and the freshly laundered bedlinen gave off a comforting aroma. The sky was bleeding pink and purple through her window. Anna flopped onto her bed, hands behind her head. 'So, that's the castle! Well, most of it. What did you think?'

Elsa sat awkwardly at the dresser, in the same chair where she'd chatted to Gerda. 'Very impressive. I can see this is a prosperous and...peaceful nation.'

'Yes…' Anna sensed perhaps some implication in those words. But truthfully she was too exhausted to pay it too much mind, 'Most of the time.'

The clock on the wall read quarter to seven.

'It'll be time for dinner soon. Will you be joining us?'

'I...uh…' Elsa froze at the question. Truly, it seemed there was nothing simple in her world. Only anguish over the tiniest and most mundane of events. 'Do I have a choice?'

'Well I'm not going to drag you down there. It's been a huge day. It's okay if you want to sit it out. Although I'd say it's in your interests to get acquainted with my parents at some point.'

They're the ones who will determine your fate, Anna didn't say.

Elsa nodded, staring absentmindedly into the flames.

'I can bring you some food back up. I could even bring a bottle of wine, if you like. We could play a game!'

'I'm sorry?' This was apparently even more flummoxing to Elsa than dinner with the king and queen, 'like a children's game?'

'No, a grown up game! You know, like charades or something? Ooh! Or there's this writing game my cousin and I play, that's really funny too. Have you never done something like that before?'

Elsa shook her head. 'No. Well. I have spent some time with the Fair Folk. They certainly played a lot of games but...mostly at my expense.'

Right. That's a totally normal experience to have. Just casually stop over for a few nights with the Fair Folk, older than time itself, able to warp the mind and manipulate the very fabric of reality, known to be cantankerous and temperamental, not intimidating or anything. And she was frightened of Mama and Papa? Strange priorities, this girl.

'Uh, well, I imagine these games will be fairly different from whatever games the Fair Folk play. Although I'd love to hear about that-'

'Anna, I don't mean to be rude, but-'

'Or not! We don't have to talk all night or anything. We can just read quietly.'

'It's just that…' Elsa motioned to her arm, 'the amulet. It drains me of energy. And I barely slept down in the cell.'

'Oh, right. Of course. Well, I was thinking you could sleep here,' Anna pulled the cushions off the daybed by the window, scrambled in her closet, and pulled out a stack of nightclothes and blankets. 'It's pretty comfy! I've had more naps here than I'd like to admit. And so have some of the servant girls after a big night, let me tell ya! They think I don't know. But I'm just too nice to tattle on them.'

Too nice, and too guilty. The power dynamic had been blurry ever since dearly beloved Astrid was sent away. Anna wanted back in their good graces, and they knew it. But best not to bring Elsa into that whole mess just yet.

'How benevolent. Arendelle's future is in safe hands, then.'

'Uh…' a few moments of confusion passed before Anna registered the humour in the comment. She chuckled and replied, 'It sure is. Well, I'm going to head down to dinner. Are you okay up here? Do you need anything? More books, maybe?' She feigned a look of concern, 'I'm not sure we have enough.'

It was Elsa's turn to laugh, very politely and contained as though she might be told off for doing so. They had quite a ridiculous book stack by the bed from their earlier trip. Elsa had eclectic tastes, apparently. Mycology, poetry, architecture, mathematics, political satire and a good few tragedies. And of course, Anna's orders had arrived that day as well. Some fellow over in the New World called Thoreau was causing quite a bit of controversy so naturally, Anna had to see what all the fuss was about. She never could resist a dissident.

'I haven't uh...bathed in quite some time, either.'

'Oh, of course!' Anna felt rightfully inconsiderate for not having thought of that. No showers in the dungeon. And she preferred not to think about the grimy conditions in the black markets if the stereotypes were anything close to true. 'I didn't even think of that. You smell so great and everything.'

And there it was. And she'd almost made it one whole day without accidentally sounding like a pervert. No wonder Elsa always seemed to be moving away from her. The raised eyebrows and slightly open mouth was enough to confirm that that was not a normal thing to say.

'Not that I was paying that much attention to how you smell, specifically. Just that earlier...when you got stuck in your dress...'

She was paying that much attention. More attention than was appropriate. In fact it had been hard to turn her attention away from the delicate nape of her neck, the curve of her back, the cascading hair and soft, warm skin and the slight scent of sweat and how it all culminated into a softness that made Anna feel heavy in her lower stomach.

And the bruises. They were also hard not to notice. Hard to forget.

'I- I just couldn't help but notice...'

Sometimes words were like a snowball of awkwardness. Just rolling and rolling, gathering size, speed, momentum...

'...Just that for someone who hasn't bathed in a while, you don't smell bad. Is all I'm trying to say. I'll have the staff come up and draw a bath.'

She spun around and left before Elsa could see the red heat creeping over her cheeks.

III

Anna's parents sat perched forward on their chairs, faces so eager one would think she'd just come back from a hot date.

Ha. If only.

'Evening Papa,' Anna began demolishing the plate before her. 'Mama.'

'Well?' Her father's face was fixed on Anna with the same quiet anticipation as when his chosen racehorse was making a comeback.

'Well what?' She knew perfectly well what, but sometimes she liked to mess with him. Make him spell out exactly what he wanted. Anna shovelled massive forkfuls into her mouth. The torrfisk was divine. 'The torrfisk is divine.'

Agnarr rolled his eyes. 'Well, how are things going? We had your schedule cleared this afternoon so you could gather information about...what did you say her name was, Elise?'

'Oh yeah! Elsa. I learnt a lot, actually. She has excellent etiquette...ah...loves loves the Greek myths, especially the tragedies. She's met the Fair Folk. I think she likes architecture too. She asked me a lot of questions about the castle. When it was built. How many stories, how high it is, where the battlements are-'

'Oh, you foolish girl!'

Anna gasped. That was uncalled for.

'She's planning to run away and you handed her security information on a silver platter!'

'No! I think she was just asking to be polite? Things were a bit awkward...at one point...'

'Why were things awkward?' Iduna interjected, 'what did you do, Anna?'

'You two are as bad as Gerda! Why does everyone always assume I've done something?'

An uncomfortable silence settled. She knew very well why. Astrid was why. Would they ever let her get past it? She had refrained from sending letters. Agreed to marry Hans. What more did she need to do?

'Anyway, I don't think she's running anywhere. The magic-stopper-armband-thingy makes her tired.'

'I see you have gathered some useful information then. What kind of device is it? Elven craft? Troll craft? Or manmade?'

'I...don't know.'

'Well, what's the nature of her power? Does it depend on any specific conditions? Moon phases or such? Can she wield it with precision? Perform it remotely? Is it infinite or does she have to, say, recharge?'

'Um...I...I'm not sure. She did say she loves to kill good Christian men in their beds while she flies through the sky in her ice boat.'

Agnarr shot a very I told you so look at his wife, who just about choked on her wine.

'That was definitely sarcasm though. She has a very dry sense of humour. Ironically.'

The silence hung heavy again.

'Because she has ice powers...that's why it's ironic...her sense of humour is dry...and ice is wet. Right?'

Tough crowd, her parents. Anna didn't envy the court jester.

Agnarr sighed deeply. 'Did you at least find out who smuggled her across the border? Or where they made the trade? Any names? Descriptions? Locations? The bandits haven't given up any information so either they're expecting a handsome pay or they're working for someone more intimidating than the full force of the crown.'

'I'm sorry, Papa.' Anna really was sorry. And she was angry. Who did these bandits think they were, "trading" human beings like bags of wheat? In her Arendelle? 'I didn't ask.'

'Why not?'

'Well, it seemed like a delicate topic, you know?' She lowered her voice to a whisper, not because there was any privacy issue in their dining room, but to impress upon him the sensitivity of the issue. Her father had a great strategic mind. He connected information seamlessly, foresaw many possible outcomes, predicted political consequences like an oracle. But he sometimes lacked that human touch when approaching difficult issues.

Anna thought of Elsa and her moments of panic, her utter cynicism, her lack of faith in any possible favourable outcome, and the bruise shaped like a handprint, and the other bruise that she told herself was ambiguous but she knew in her heart was shaped like a boot. And she continued, 'I think the whole ordeal has been...rather brutal for her.'

'Brutal indeed,' Agnarr shook his head, flabbergasted, 'I've no doubt! Honestly, Anna, do you not understand how serious this issue is? Contraband is a blight. It burrows into the country and infects it with brutality, from the inside out. Trails are getting stronger and more numerous by the day. They come here to get access to our ports, and attract all sorts of riff-raff. Call all their shady friends. Mercenaries. Poachers. Pirates. Slavers. Spies. They take over establishments and recruit wayward youths. They choke up trade routes, tarnish our reputation, blackmail citizens and visitors alike. The ports become a lawless wasteland of violence and filth. The robberies, the rapes, the murders. We have to increase security and surveillance, which breeds dissent and drains the coffers. It's a hundred headaches, and then some, Anna, which we don't need. Especially in a time like this.'

Right. A time like this. The conference in the morning still hadn't sunk in. The new alliance to the west. The border dispute. The rapid declarations of side-taking. She would have to go over her notes again later.

'I do understand, Papa. I'm just...trying to build rapport.'

'Well, do try to build it quickly. We're due for the Northern Trade Convention in a few weeks and we need to know where we stand. On all fronts.'

Anna couldn't argue with that. The NTC most often resulted in very few solid trade agreements and an excess of gossip, bribery and idealistic but insubstantial declarations about mutual prosperity and inclusion. No doubt the topic of port security security would come up. The letters regarding Elsa's existence and whereabouts were piling up. It would absolutely be the elephant in the room. Or rather, the Elsaphant in the room.

'Something funny, dear?' Iduna said.

Anna had been laughing at her own joke. 'No, Mama.' She took a sip of wine. 'Nothing.'

'Well, you'd best be having an early night. Hans is arriving tomorrow morning. You'll be greeting him at the docks.'

'What? But...I...'

'Which part of that was confusing, dear?' Oh, her mother could be snarky sometimes.

'Well it's just that the wedding…' she couldn't bring herself to say "my wedding", 'it isn't for a couple of weeks still!'

'Well, yes, but he'll have to be fitted and dressed, get acquainted with the council, pose for portraits for memorabilia, and we're starting wedding rehearsals next week.'

Next week, already. Anna knew Hans was arriving a little before the wedding but she hadn't realised quite how soon. It just snuck up on her. She slumped under the weight of the disappointment, heavy on her shoulders.

'Honestly, Anna, it's not like your life is ending. You're almost nineteen. We've given you quite enough time to frolic around-'

Agnarr interrupted, 'And you chose to spend that time frornicating with the maid-'

'Darling, drop it,' Iduna attempted to intervene, 'she's learnt her lesson-'

'I wasn't fornicating!'

'I will not argue semantics-'

'We barely even-'

'I don't want to hear it! You're lucky we kept it so contained. If you built a reputation as a sexual deviant the Southern Isles might have reneged our arrangement, and then-'

'Well that would just be unreasonable, I'm still a goddamn-'

Iduna cleared her throat, 'that is quite enough, both of you!' Her chair scraped, jarring, against the floor. Wood against wood. 'Agnar. Have some compassion for your only child! She can't change what's happened. You were young once, and at the mercy of your passions.'

Agnarr cast his eyes downward like a scolded child.

'We did damage control. The kingdom didn't crumble. Now, let her move past it. She didn't choose this affliction-'

'I don't have an affliction.'

'And you.' Anna regretted saying anything as soon as stern brown eyes full of wrath fell upon her, 'You will not use such filthy language under this roof!'

'Sorry, Mama.' Anna rose silently, sliding a bun and some vegetables into a napkin to bring up to Elsa. Feeling thoroughly contrite, she padded softly toward the door, then returned to the table, and took the rest of the wine before leaving in silence.

IIII

Anna returned to a darkened bedroom. Coals smouldered in the fireplace. Candles were snuffed. There would be no charades tonight, or any other games.

Elsa was fast asleep, breathing in that heavy, rhythmic way that only people who are fast asleep breathe. The aurora cast faint flickering lights over her delicate features. Anna moved closer and admired how utterly tranquil she looked, curled on the daybed in a surprisingly tidy nest of blankets. Her hair glistened, slightly damp, and she smelt of floral soap and baby powder and other sweet, delicate things. Anna had the urge to crawl in there and bury herself in the blankets, just disintegrate into the soft, warm, delicate tranquility of sleeping Elsa.

But she didn't. Instead she just took a good, long whiff. Then she sighed.

Perhaps she did have an affliction.

Slumped against her bed, Anna took a swig of the wine. It burned her throat and sat acrid in her stomach, like the sting of Astrid's absence and the knowledge of Hans' ship moving closer to Arendelle with each passing hour. She climbed into bed and took another swig. And another. And another, until she finished the bottle and drifted fitfully into melancholy dreams.