Breakfast the next morning had been a lively affair, as Hans found himself sitting across from Princess Anna and to the Queen's right at the head of the table. Over eggs, toast, bacon and coffee, as well as pastries, he listened to the conversation bouncing between the visiting dignitaries and representatives there for her coronation; the strawberry-blonde princess dictated the conversation the majority of the time, which no one seemed to mind, and he shared a mirth-filled glance with Elsa on more than one occasion between bites.

"- surprised your father, rest his soul, did not set forth a betrothal for you before he passed, Your Majesty; you need a King to rule by your side." Hans' gaze snapped up from his coffee as the young prince from Corona- Eugene, if he remembered right, who was married to Princess Rapunzel- spoke up, and Elsa raised her eyebrow, mid-buttering of her toast. The table fell silent, anxiously awaiting her reply, and slowly, she lowered the hand that held the butter knife.

"Arendellian custom does not allow for the creation of a betrothal until the child in question reaches the age of eighteen, Prince Eugene. But of course, I can see how you believe that my sex puts me at a disadvantage. And if it puts me at a disadvantage, then it certainly puts your wife at a disadvantage as well."

"I... I didn't mean..."

"You also forget," Elsa spoke up over him, and the instantly shut his mouth. "Prince Eugene, that Arendelle is not Corona. We believe that a woman does not necessarily need a King to rule by a Queen's side. Any man I marry will not rule Arendelle without consent from my council, and that consent is very rare. They will be my husband, not the King of Arendelle. I, unlike Princess Rapunzel if she ever takes the throne," The jab at the young immature Crown Princess who had a tendency to sneak out of the castle and go gallivanting through the countryside without warning, was evident, and made it clear just exactly what the young queen thought of the flighty, childish princess in line for the Coronian throne. "do not need a man at my side in order to rule." Her voice was cool; a clearly practiced response. She punctuated the statement by biting into her toast, and Hans swallowed his snort- partially because he knew she was lying and also because of the look of embarrassment on the Coronian prince's face; made even worse when his wife jabbed him sharply in the ribs.

"But you will have to marry eventually, Your Majesty, won't you, in order to secure the throne?"

Elsa's head slowly moved towards the young Russian prince on the other side of the table, not far from where Hans sat. She had since swallowed her bite, and now set her toast down, reaching for her coffee cup. "My throne is already secured, Prince Dmitri." She replied over the rim of her cup.

"But to make sure it does not fall into enemy hands, you will have to bear an heir, as all young royals must."

Elsa's tongue darted into her cheek, and the temperature at the table dropped slightly as she set her cup down. Clearly, the young Russian had displeased her, if the coolness at the table was any indication, and after a moment, she sat back, pushing herself up straight before settling back against the chair. Hans forced himself to keep from peeking beneath the table. "I have only just been crowned as of not even twenty-four hours ago, Ваше Высочество, and already you are suggesting I marry and produce heirs. Why Prince Dmitri, if I did not know any better, I would take that to be a request to start a courtship."

Vasheh Vysochestvo- Your Highness. A deliberate reminder to the Russian Prince of his rank while at the Arendellian court, and the young Russian and everyone else knew it. Hans felt his hackles rise at Elsa's teasing; he knew she was kidding, for he had asked the night before to court her and she had agreed, but even so, teasing or not today, he didn't appreciate it.

A blush furiously appeared over the young man's cheeks, and he stammered for several minutes before Elsa smiled innocently at first before it turned into a wolfish grin. She folded her hands in front of her, resting her head against the back of the chair. "While I appreciate your concern for the welfare of my kingdom, Your Highness, I have a couple years yet until I will need to bring forth an heir from my womb. I think I will be fine until then." She wrinkled her nose, trying to lighten the mood, and Anna giggled. Her sister's head snapped towards her, blue gaze now locked onto the princess. "Do you find something funny, Princess Annaliese?"

The giggling stopped, and after a moment, the girl spoke up, catching the glimmer in her sister's eye. "I'm sorry, Your Majesty, it's just... seeing you try to be stern and dignified, when you..." She quickly swallowed her giggles. "When your feet-"

One slender white eyebrow rose, and after a moment, the Queen's head shifted back so her gaze faced everyone else at the table. She sighed, pushing herself up. "Yes, well, it is rather difficult to be stern and dignified when your feet are six inches from the floor, regardless of the chair you sit in." Every chair shifted, every head craned to get a look, but only Hans had a good view of her feet dangling like a child's. "I believe Her Majesty in Britain suffers from the same issue I do," It was a surprise to everyone as the newly-crowned Queen of Arendelle literally hopped out of her chair- so much so that everyone else scrambled to their feet long after her own feet had touched the ground. "a lack of stature."


It being such a lovely day, the staff had set up a few games out in the palace courtyard, and several of the dignitaries were taking part. Elsa, not one for games, had chosen to wander among the pathways, admiring the flowers. Iduna had taken great care to make sure Linnea's gardens were lovely and pleasant to the eye; however, it was her personal garden that Elsa had an invested interest in. Elsa, being the gracious hostess, made sure her guests were content and relaxed before she slipped off for a stroll alone. She could not wait until evening fell and she could return to her chambers-

Her breathing hitched as she heard footsteps behind her, and once she'd turned the corner towards her mother's personal garden and was safely behind the climbing roses, she stopped, listening before continuing on, the footsteps behind her. She trailed her hand along the ivy-covered stone, counting the steps before coming to a stop at the correct number and kneeling down. Gently un-wedging a stone in the wall, she reached in and pulled out a skeleton key, replacing the stone and standing once it was in her hand.

A hand slid around her waist, pulling her close and she glanced over her shoulder. "I was wondering how long it would take you to catch up with me, darling."

"For such a small thing, you're certainly fast." She scoffed gently, turning around and stepping to the side, her back hitting the wall. She tucked her hands behind her back, and looked up at him. "What were you and the Russian Prince discussing after breakfast?"

She raised an eyebrow. "Architecture." He snorted softly; the eyebrow rose higher. "Why, Johannes, you act like you're jealous." And without another word, she pushed the door she'd been working on unlocking open and stepped through, yanking the key out of the lock as she did so. A moment passed, before he joined her, the heavy wooden door shutting behind them with a bang.

The key tight in her grasp, she gathered her skirts and dashed down the few steps before hurrying across the landscape. Iduna had had quite the green thumb; the flowers in bloom in the garden gave off a sweet scent that brought memories of spending her childhood helping her mother care for her precious plants. She could hear Hans behind her, chasing after her, but she had the upper hand; she knew the layout of the garden well- she had come here every day before her coronation, including the early morning hours the day of, and relished in the quiet, feeling as though her mother were there.

Finally, she skidded to a stop, seeing the swing hanging from the tree, transfixed by it. There were paintings of her and her mother on this swing; sketches, done by her father, beautiful drawings done by Anna as they grew and spent time in the garden with their mother. The old wooden swing had seen as many happy memories as the garden itself had.

"I've got you!" She let out a squeal as he scooped her up from behind, spinning her around before setting her back on her feet. She turned to face him; the elegantly simple twist her hair had been placed in for breakfast that morning was now gone. The snow-white curls tumbled down her back and shoulders in wild tangles, making her look even more like the eighteen-year-old she was.

Both now out of breath, they stared at each other, breathing calming and hearts relaxing. He reached up, caressing her cheek, and she covered his hand, meeting his gaze with a smile. She then pulled away, gathering her skirt and dashing towards the swing. He followed, stopping not far away, watching as she took a seat upon it. "There's paintings of my mother and I sitting upon this swing." Her small hands held the braided rope gently, and she look up towards the branch it hung from, feeling the wind gently caress her cheeks; the warmth of the wind caused her to close her eyes and she sighed. "Papa did sketches of Anna and I with Mama when we were younger; Anna even did a few drawings of us. My sister has quite the talent." When she opened her eyes, it was to Hans sitting beside her, so that they were sitting opposite ways, facing each other. "I come here when I can, and imagine that Mama is here with me."

Gently, he reached up to caress her cheek. "She's here, Eliza."

"How do you know?"

He reached down, resting his hand above her breast. "Because she's always here. Just like my mother is always with me."