AN: Thank you all for your reviews, I hope you like the chapter, this one put up a proper fight. Don't forget to tip your something something something on the way out. I'm going to go find my pillow.


Rayna frowned as she took in the unmade bed. Everything she'd learned of Joan since her arrival to the fortress told Ray that she was a neat person. Not that she made up her bed every morning, but she straightened everything out, so it didn't look quite so messy. This morning when Ray came in, she found the pillows and blankets laying haphazardly across the bed, which could only mean one thing; the guards had come for Joan in the middle of the night. Again.

Ray sighed as she adjusted the covers and fixed the pillows, putting everything back in its place. Whatever state Joan was in when they brought her back, chances were high she would go directly to bed. This was the third time in just as many days that the guards had taken her down to that room, and it was clear it was wearing on her. Ray had seen it in the woman's eyes when she dropped off lunch yesterday—the weight that was accumulating Joan's shoulders. She wanted desperately to help but knew she couldn't; Markkus told her and the guards to treat Joan like they would any other trainee. That meant leaving her to figure out the tests on her own. No interference, no help.

She had watched plenty of trainees go through the same tests. Most of them figured it out, eventually, though some took longer than others. Some couldn't handle the pressure and quit, giving up the chance of harnessing magic. Given the circumstances that brought her to Hasvik, Ray wasn't sure Joan had the option to quit.

Ray finished tucking in the bottom corner of the blanket then turned down the bed, so it was ready for use. She turned to put more wood on the fire when an icy breeze swept into the room. She frowned, crossing the room to the open window; she started to pull it shut, only to stop halfway through the motion. Joan must have opened the window for a reason. She could imagine that a woman with the ability to create ice and snow was probably more comfortable with the cold, and considering where Joan currently was, she would likely appreciate the brush of cool air in the room when she returned.

Ray dropped her hand and turned back toward the room, her eyes going wide as she found herself staring at what appeared to be a tiny white dragon on the table, laying across a rolled-up piece of parchment. She stood, watching the creature, unsure what to make of it.

The dragon watched her back, tilting its head to the side; Ray mirrored the movement and tilted her own head. She then approached the tiny beast, holding out her hand like one would for a stray dog. The dragon inched forward. It sniffed her hand, then let out a huff of frosted air that covered her fingers.

"Hey!" Ray jumped and pulled her hand back, brushing her hand against her dress.

The dragon nudged the paper toward her, then dissolved into a flurry of snowflakes that faded into the surrounding air.

Ray blinked at the suddenly empty space, then reached to pick up the parchment. She pulled at the green ribbon wrapped around the paper and unrolled the letter. Her gaze moved across the first line.

My dearest, most favoritest sister,

I'm on my way back to Arendelle as per her Majesty's request, but you should know that I'm going to move something in your room when I get there.

"Oh!" Ray exclaimed, tearing her gaze away and rolling the paper back up. This letter was not meant for her; considering a dragon made of snow delivered it, it was likely meant for Joan, from her sister. She re-wrapped the ribbon around the letter, intending to put it on the nightstand next to the bed, knowing that receiving a letter from home would do wonders to bring up Joan's mood. She stopped halfway to her destination, jumping as the door suddenly opened.

Two guards entered, one carrying the unconscious woman in his arms. Ray's shoulders slumped and she let out a long breath. "Again?" She had hoped Joan would have figured out the test this time around.

The other man shrugged. "You know as well as I do that it can take them a few tries to get it." He grimaced as his companion placed Joan gently on the bed. "Some more than others."

"At least she's not as heavy as them." The guard carrying Joan quipped as he took a step back.

This was Joan's third time in the room, and the third time they had carried her back after having passed out, most likely from the heat. There had been some trainees in the past who became overwhelmed by the small, dark, silent room, who passed out after hyperventilating. Considering how hot Joan had been the last two times they carried her back; She was putting her money on the former.

Ray tucked her dark hair behind her ears, crossing the distance to the bed, and setting the letter on the nightstand as she took in Joan's condition. Her face was flushed, and her breathing came in short, ragged pants, like each one was costing more energy than she had. Ray's stomach twisted as she placed the back of her hand against the woman's cheek, then jerked back. She was burning up.

Ray turned toward the guards, fury burning in her gaze. "How long did you leave her in there?"

The guard that carried Joan in raised his hands in defense as he rocked back a step. "Hey, you know we have no say in that. The sergeant controls the door and is the only one who can open it. Us non-magic folk, we just do the babysitting."

Ray huffed, grabbing a cloth draped over a bowl of ice water, thanking her own foresight to have it ready just in case. She dipped the washcloth in the bowl and wrung it out before laying it across Joan's hot, dry forehead. The woman responded with a muted whimper, turning her face into the cold cloth.

"Well, Markkus will not be happy if Sergeant Jerkface makes Joan sick. Or worse." The very moment a trainee passed out, the sergeant knew about it and was supposed to open the door to ensure they didn't get sick, or worse, from overexposure to the intense heat. There had been a few instances when the sergeant had left a trainee inside too long and they became horribly ill, forced to take a break before continuing. Some of them quit.

"Yeah, hate to see Markkus's new toy broken," the guard mumbled.

The other man snorted, rolling his eyes. "You're just upset that she doesn't like you."

"She's being held against her will," he retorted. "I'm pretty sure she doesn't like anyone right now."

Ray shook her head, ignoring the two guards as they bickered. She folded some ice into a second cloth and placed it against Joan's neck; then dipped the first one back into the melting water and washed the sweat from Joan's limbs, allowing the cold water to go to work against her overheated skin. She had almost forgotten about the guards when one of them grabbed something off the nightstand.

"What's this?"

Ray looked over her shoulder to see the letter in his hand. She shrugged. "I think a letter from her sister. A tiny little ice dragon brought it in through the window."

The guard raised his eyebrows. "An ice dragon?"

Ray nodded, though she realized how crazy it sounded. "It flew in through the window, dropped the letter, and then poof," she said, waving a hand in the air. "It disappeared into a cloud of snowflakes."

"Snowflakes?" The guard looked down at the unconscious woman, letting out a deep breath. "You know that Markkus is going to want to see this?"

Ray wrinkled her nose. "Why? They allow trainees to get letters from people."

The guard pressed his lips together, grimacing. "I know Markkus said to treat her like a regular trainee, but she's not. She's a prisoner." The guard turned to the other and handed off the letter, jerking his chin toward the door. The other man nodded and left the room, taking the letter with him.

Ray shook her head. "She's only here until the fighting with the Sirma is over."

"Kid, the Sirma stopped fighting almost a week ago. Their leader is down in the dungeons, and their only real advantage is laying passed out in front of you. Rumor is some other force has occupied their camp. Not sure who or why and don't much care either, just glad it's done."

"What?" Ray blinked. "But Markkus told her she could go home once they stopped."

The guard's lips twitched, and he narrowed his eyes. "You don't honestly think Markkus is going to train her to use her magic and then let her go, do you?"

Ray opened her mouth, then snapped it shut. She did think that, because that's what Markkus had told her.

The guard shook his head. "Kid, I don't know what Markkus's plan for her is, but it's not catch and release. Her magic isn't like the mages, they can help our people in more ways than just fighting." He started ticking things off on his fingers. "Fire to warm a house, water to bring rain to the crops, wind to move the boats, or earth to build shelters. Her magic is like Markkus's." He lowered his chin, folded his arms over his chest. "They can only use it for one thing and that's destruction. And if the descriptions of the last battle are true, then her magic is a whole lot stronger than anyone here, including Markkus himself. There's no way a man like him is going to let someone like her go."

Ray dropped her gaze, twisting the damp cloth between her hands. She didn't want to believe him; she didn't want to believe that Markkus would lie to her, or worse, to Joan. She didn't know much about the woman, but was certain it would devastate Joan to think Markkus was not going to release her as promised. If this was truly the plan, then it made little sense. At some point, Joan would become suspicious and start asking to go home again, and if Markkus didn't let her, she could simply refuse to play ball. He would have no way of using her magic.

Ray bit down on her lip. She turned and saw that the wrapped ice she had tucked under Joan's neck was melting. She knew Markkus wasn't planning on using the cuffs to drain Joan's magic; if he was, he would have done it already. Either wasn't interested in doing so, or the unique nature of her magic prevented him.

No. She didn't believe what the guard was telling her; it didn't make sense for Markkus to lie about letting Joan go. Holding her here against her will would only help him in the short-term, and Joan didn't seem like the type to let someone string her along for any significant length of time. The fortress guards liked to gossip; he had probably just heard something from someone else, and things ended up lost in translation. Ray nodded to herself as she folded more ice into the cloth and returned it to Joan's neck.

"Look, kid—"

"I'm not a kid," she bit out, glaring at him.

"Sure." He backed away toward the door. "If you need anything, just yell." He left the room, closing the door behind him.

Ray turned back to her charge, laying the back of her hand against the woman's forehead. Though still too hot, Joan seemed a bit cooler, and her breathing was evening out. She shifted on the bed, her eyelids fluttering. Ray set the cloth aside on the nightstand, grabbing the medicine she had set out there.

Markkus had saved her from being thrown out of the fortress when her father died. No matter what the guard had said, Ray knew Markkus wouldn't lie to her.


The waves rolled and crashed, but the incoming white foam stopped short of reaching the shoreline, like the water was striking an invisible barrier, an unseen wall of some kind. Elsa dug her toes into the dark pebbles. Ever since she was a child, even before the incident with her sister, this place had always been a refuge for her, a haven. As she grew older, it became a place she could retreat to, somewhere she could hide from the world and leave behind the pressures and responsibilities that rested so heavily upon her shoulders. It was a place where she could be herself without fear, the only place. After her parents disappeared, it became a life raft within a raging storm that she didn't know how to control.

The last time Elsa had retreated to this place, that feeling of safeness shattered, sharp splinters of her sanctuary left broken at her feet. Now, it was gone completely. For the first time, she felt . . . nothing.

The siren's call that had teased answers to forgotten questions was gone. The sun hidden behind dark ominous clouds that churned overhead and flashes of lightning danced across the sky. There was no longer a thick haze; but the dark pebbles beneath her were still uncomfortably warm. A hot wind blew through the cove, scorching the air, and her lungs, making it hard to breathe.

Elsa watched as the tide washed along the shore. The water stopped just outside of her reach, just like her magic, and just like the siren's song. Those things that were innately a part of her, the things no one was supposed to be able to take, were gone. Stripped away and held at ransom for a prize she had yet to discern.

She wrapped her arms tighter around her tented legs and rested her chin on her knees. She didn't know how long she sat like that, kept company by a soft buzzing in the back of her mind and the waves rolling to and fro. The repetitive motion of the water lulled her into a daze, making her feel sleepy enough that she almost missed the floating light in the distance, a faint blue glow standing out against the dark grey around her. Elsa sat up as the little blue light bounced along the waves, growing closer. Her head jerked back as it passed through the invisible wall that was separating her from the sea, and from her magic.

She watched the soft blue light with growing interest. In all the times she had visited this place, she had always been alone. It was the one thing that had remained the same, other than the persistent siren's pull. Elsa dropped her hands and shifted so she was sitting up on her knees. She tilted her head as it grew closer still, knowing that whatever the light was, it would not harm her. She wasn't sure how she knew that, only that she could feel it in the very marrow of her bones.

She reached out a hand, and the little blue light hovered around her fingers. It bounced suddenly, twisting around her outstretched fingers and up her arm, moving down the other before settling in her palm. Elsa chuckled. "Well, hello to you too."

The light bounced in response, and Elsa felt the movement in her mind, a faint brush against her conscious like the soothing flow of a mountain stream. The oppressive heat surrounding her seemed to lessen; suddenly it was easier to breathe, to think. She squinted down at the little light resting in her palm, but before she had a chance to ask the question forming on her lips, the light brushed once more against her mind. This time she saw faint images, endless oceans and babbling brooks, roaring waterfalls and still mirror lakes.

Elsa blinked, shaking her head. "I don't—" The far too short sense of cooling relief faded away, and the heat increased, growing unbearable. The buzzing grew, making it hard to think. "I don't understand."

The light shook, sending a feeling of agitation knocking against her mind. She pressed her lips into a tight line as more images flashed before her eyes: a golden cage, an open window with a vast ocean spreading beyond it, a shattered crystal, and splinters trapped within ice against a dead man's chest. Something about the last image struck Elsa with an echo of familiarity, but it faded too quickly, and the thought slipped away.

She pressed her palm against her forehead, shifting uncomfortably as her chest tightened. A strong feeling of desperation and imprisonment brushed her thoughts, and it took a moment for her to realize the feelings weren't just her own. Her eyebrows scrunched up as she appraised the glowing blue light atop her palm. "You need help?"

The light bounced.

Elsa shook her head. "I'm sorry, I don't know how."

The image of the shattered crystal brushed her mind once more. "I don't understand," she gritted out, as the buzzing in her head increased, along with the heat. She curled forward, pulling the light close to her chest as she struggled to breathe through the heat and building frustration. She felt a hint of worry brush her mind and looked down at the little light pressed against her. Spots gathered in front of her eyes, and when she tried to blink them away, her vision darkened, a veil of black falling over her as her chest heaved, working fruitlessly to pull oxygen from the thick air.

A whimper of sound spilt unbidden across her lips. She felt a hand at the back of her neck as someone tilted her head. A cool liquid washed across her swollen, dry tongue. Elsa leaned forward as much as she could, drinking greedily as the water soothed her parched throat. She was halfway through the glass before she realized there was a pleasant nutty taste but was far too thirsty to give it any more thought. She rasped a disappointed noise when the glass emptied faster than she wanted.

"If you drink it too fast, you're just gonna throw it up."

Elsa lifted a heavy hand and pressed her palm against her eyes, rubbing away the gritty feeling. She blinked a few times, and a blurry image of Ray slowly came into view. "Wha?"

"You passed out, again. I'm assuming from heat exhaustion." Ray placed the empty glass on the nightstand and pulled a cloth from the large bowl sitting there, wringing out the excess water.

Elsa dropped her head back to the pillow, groaning as her memory caught up with her. That's right, she thought, remembering. She'd been in the room again, trying to find a way out. This was the third time she had failed, and instead of getting easier, it seemed to get harder. Her anxiety and panic building even before they had a chance to shove her into the tiny airless room. This last time, the heat had built up at an alarming rate. She remembered alternating between trying to break through the door and cooling herself down. She remembered feeling lightheaded and dizzy, and then . . . nothing.

A gloriously cold cloth was draped over Elsa's forehead, startling her before going to work easing the pounding in her skull. She laid still with her eyes closed, and after a few minutes felt herself cooling down little by little, until she felt she could breathe again.

"Well, that's . . . useful."

Elsa opened her eyes and looked toward Ray, then followed the girl's gaze down to the sheet draped over her. A thin layer of frost covered it. A thrill shot up Elsa's spin and she looked down at her wrist, but the soft glow from the cuffs quickly shattered the faint glimmer of hope. She wrinkled her nose in disappointment but wasn't surprised. Of course, they wouldn't forget to reactivate the cuffs. She remembered the bit of ice she had accidently created in the tent with Alarik and Anna, what felt like forever ago, but decided not to worry too much about it right now, finding it more curious than useful in her present circumstance.

Still feeling tired and drained, but no longer like she was baking alive in her own skin, Elsa pulled the washcloth from her forehead. She pressed her hands against mattress, pushing herself upright in bed and leaning back against the pillows. She blew out a heavy breath as she settled.

Ray laid the cloth in the bowl and poured a glass of water, handing it to Elsa before hopping up on the bed.

"Thank you." She took a drink of water, forcing herself to sip slowly, not willing to take the chance of it coming back up if she drank too fast. She held the glass between her hands, resting it on her lap, and watched the water move lazily in the small space. An image flashed across her mind, too quick for her to grasp. It felt important, like both a warning and a cry for help, but the harder she tried to remember the further it slipped away, like remnants of a hazy dream. She pressed her lips into a thin line and narrowed her gaze at the water.

"If it makes you feel better," Ray said, interrupting her thoughts, "some trainees take a lot of tries before figuring it out."

Elsa's brows squished together. It took her a moment to realize Ray had misinterpreted her silence as frustration toward the training. Though it wasn't what she had been thinking about at that exact moment, she couldn't deny the overwhelming feeling of disappointment. This was only the first bit of training she'd received, and already she was failing horribly. It didn't set a good precedent.

She rubbed her fingers against her brow. "It doesn't." She had always been good at puzzles and tests; the fact that she couldn't get this one left her feeling irritated with herself. "I don't understand how I'm supposed to get out of the room if the walls keep repairing themselves. And the heat . . . " Between the claustrophobic space and the overwhelming heat, she wasn't sure which was worse. The combination was a brutal mix that had sent her into a panic attack each time until she passed out from the rising temperature.

Ray scrunched up her face, dropping her gaze to her swinging feet.

Elsa raised an eyebrow. "What is it?"

"I'm not supposed to help."

Elsa watched the younger girl but didn't want to press her for information she wasn't meant to give.

After a tense moment of silence, Ray sighed. "Maybe," she started slowly, "you're not supposed to escape the room."

Elsa tilted her head, considering the idea. "Then what?"

Ray mirrored the motion, turning on the bed to face Elsa. "Markkus didn't offer to teach you how to use your magic. Did he?"

"No," Elsa said, shaking her head. "He offered to teach me how to control it."

"Right." Ray nodded. "But in what context?"

"He—" Elsa stopped short, recalling the conversation she had with Markkus in the courtyard. "Oh," she breathed, suddenly understanding what he had offered.


Kristoff stuck close as they rode towards Arendelle, hardly drifting more than a few inches from Anna's side since being reunited. The two were in the middle of the riding party, sandwiched between Captain Jogeir in front and another guard bringing up the rear. Their journey had started slow, the Northern passes now nearly impossible to travel, but thanks to Kristoff's knowledge they were able to make it through. Anna couldn't deny there was a large part of her that had hoped the roads would be too dangerous to traverse, forcing them to return to camp.

The last thing Anna wanted to do right now was return to Arendelle. She had considered ignoring her sister's request outright but ultimately knew, as always, that Elsa was right. Her sister had planned on a five-day trip, long enough to get to Valle, work things out with the Baron and come home. It was a trip she had planned to embark on solo but, thanks to some encouragement, Anna invited herself along at the last minute, leaving the kingdom temporarily without reassurance of a member of the royal family nearby.

Those five days had now turned into a month, and Anna wasn't surprised her sister asked her to return to Arendelle. Irritated, of course, but not surprised. If there was one thing Elsa excelled at more than anything, it was putting the needs of the kingdom above her own. Anna had to remind herself that it had only been a few months since her sister was crowned and it was possible that, eventually, Elsa would settle into a more reasonable rhythm, giving more weight to her own needs. Until then, with Elsa unable to, the responsibility fell on Anna's shoulders, no matter how much she hated it and childishly wanted to rail against it.

If their situations were reversed, Elsa wouldn't have walked away. She would have moved mountains and leveled the earth to get to Anna. But Elsa also possessed magic that could quite possibly do just that, and she would somehow do so while still running the kingdom without so much as a hiccup. But Anna wasn't her sister. She couldn't do the things Elsa could. She was just Anna, the understudy who forgot to study. The spare.

Anna sighed. As much as she wanted to stay at the camp, there was nothing for her to do, even when Arendelle's ships arrived, they would still have to locate Hasvik through the surrounding fog. Then, and only then, could they plan what to do next. Assuming that was something they needed to do.

Despite her own misgivings about the Vindarr's leader, Anna continued to hold on to hope that he wasn't lying to her sister. Elsa was good at spotting a lie, at knowing when she was being deceived; she would have to be in order to negotiate with various countries for trade and alliances. But Anna realized with a start that didn't actually know this about her sister, because she'd never seen Elsa in the midst of a negotiation. Now that she thought about it, Anna hadn't seen her sister perform many of the duties required of her as Queen. She'd watched Elsa during court a few times, but much of what her older sister did—the meetings, council, negotiations—all took place behind closed doors.

Anna's father had always encouraged her to take an interest in the fine details of running a kingdom, those things that happened during closed-door meetings. But Anna had always been more interested in the people rather than laws, taxes, and trades. When the gates were finally opened and she was reunited with her sister, Anna couldn't be happier, but considering they had barely spoken in thirteen years, there was a lot of unsteady ground between them. Neither sister felt equipped to cross it, and both were afraid of falling short of the other's expectations. With everything else in the mix, Anna had known it wasn't going to be an easy road for either of them; they clashed on several occasions. She made a conscious effort to stay out of Elsa's way as much as she could while her sister was working, and because of that there was still a lot about Elsa that Anna knew solely based on what she'd been told by others.

Anna had once heard some councilors talking about how the Queen could sniff out a deception, and she realized she was putting a lot of weight in that secondhand information. Perhaps if she'd paid more attention to such things herself, they might not be in this mess.

If Elsa was right about Markkus—and Anna badly wanted to believe she was—then the Vindarr leader would release her once the fighting stop. Since Arendelle's military now held the Sirma encampment with Erik in their custody, and Tyr was in a dungeon like Elsa said, there was no one left to fight the Vindarr. A brief discussion with Erik had filled Anna with even more hope, as the man was willing, if Markkus was, to negotiate a permanent peace between the two people with the understanding that Arendelle would mediate. Anna couldn't promise mediation—that was up to Elsa—but she could ask on their behalf. If it meant putting an end to the violence, they had dragged her and her sister into; it was a small price to pay.

Anna sent a letter back to her sister with the small icy dragon, reassuring Elsa that she was, however reluctantly, returning to Arendelle. She may have left out that she had every intention of returning north the moment she settled things in Arendelle. She was determined to be there for whatever happened next. They were in this situation because of her, and Anna would not allow her sister to deal with the fallout alone.

She told her sister in the letter about what had happened in the Sirma camp, that she was okay, and the Sirma weren't fighting anymore. Perhaps that information would be enough for the Vindarr to release her, but there was a nagging voice in the back of Anna's head telling her it wouldn't be. Telling her there was something else going on here, with Elsa, that her sister either didn't want to share or wasn't fully aware of.

While the others had moved around the camp gathering what they needed for the journey back to Arendelle, Anna sat in the command tent reading over Elsa's letter until she committed the entire message to memory. She couldn't shake that feeling that something was off, like a single instrument playing one beat faster than the rest of the orchestra. It was subtle, hard to pick out, unless you knew exactly where to look.

Now, riding through the frigid wilderness in silence, Anna couldn't stop replaying her sister's words in her mind. The feeling had lingered, and the further she got from Elsa, the stronger it grew. The temptation had risen more than once to turn around and head back, but each time Kristoff talked her out of it by reminding her there was nothing she could do up north. That, until the ships arrived, they were in a holding pattern. At least in Arendelle, Anna could do something, even if it wasn't what she wanted to be doing.

They spent the night in Valle. Anna checked in with the Baron, ensuring they had sent the food delivery to Arendelle, and they continued south before first light. The group stopped only once more, the halfway point between Valle and Arendelle, to swap out for fresh horses.

Now, as they crested the last hill and Arendelle came into view, Anna's chest tightened with mixed feelings. She was excited to be home, dreading the inevitable meeting with the council, and guilty for both the part she played in this mess and for being safe at home when her sister was not. She would have to answer for her actions; the council would undoubtedly want to know what happened and why she had gone against her sister's decision. When she first went to talk to Erik after being expressly told not to, it was a moment of sibling rebellion. Anna had allowed herself to forget, in the moment, that every choice her sister made was with the weight of the crown. For anyone else, such an action could be considered treason. The council couldn't really do anything to her, not without Elsa's approval, but Anna was sure they would take the opportunity to berate her for everything they disapproved of, and she deserved all of it.

Anna took a deep breath and rolled her shoulders as they approached the castle gates, which had been closed while they were gone. There was no reason for visitors to the castle when there was no one there to receive them. People could still come and go as needed; they just did so through a door off the main entrance. As the gates opened with a loud protesting moan, Anna realized they'd been closed for nearly a month. Considering that the last time they were closed it had been for thirteen years, she suddenly understood Elsa's worry that the citizens in Arendelle might grow concerned.

When the group slowed to a stop in the courtyard, Anna looked up to the castle's highest point, her stomach twisting painfully. It was the place where a giant snowflake stood, catching the sun's rays and twisting them in various colors. Or it was supposed to. It was the Queen's standard and Elsa had removed it before she left, signifying her absence from the castle. In light of everything, the bare spire felt like a far heavier presence than it had when they left.

Anna dismounted and headed inside, trusting the staff to care for the horses. Kristoff's hand slipped into her own with a comforting squeeze, and she offered him a smile, unable to otherwise express how grateful she was that he was there. Whatever happened, she wasn't doing it alone.

They had barely crossed into the castle when she heard Gerda's voice echo along the hallway. "Princess Anna!"

It was like a balm for her nerves. Anna smiled and quickly covered the distance between them, throwing her arms around the older woman. "Gerda."

Gerda hesitated only a moment before returning the hug. She rubbed Anna's back soothingly before stepping away with a soft tsk. "Gracious, child, you are filthy."

Anna chuckled despite herself. She couldn't count the times Gerda had uttered those same words to her as she was growing up. For a moment, everything felt normal, until Gerda's next words shattered the feeling.

"The Queen?" She looked from Anna to Captain Jogeir, who stood behind her.

Anna bit down on her bottom lip, then drew her shoulders back as she tried to channel as much of her sister as she could. Remembering her sister's words—don't lie to the people but don't stray from what the council had told them—the first thing she needed to know was what they had said about their absence. "I need to assemble the council," she said firmly.