She can't save Elsa from the inevitable interrogation. Her meddling mother drags the poor girl away as soon as she reappears from her snooze.
"Mother stuff, dear," she'd said to Anna. "Nothing to worry about."
Anna's absolutely worried.
They'd returned about twenty minutes later, just as the turkey is coming out of the oven. Elsa's smiling, so it mustn't have been too traumatic. She keeps touching her stomach, and Anna can't help but smile too.
She tries to hide it when Bulda turns her eagle-gaze to the redhead, but she fails. Miserably.