Chapter 5: The Fall Harvest Festival—Part 2

"What a day!" Anna beamed as her horse slowed to a trot once re-entering the castle grounds. She turned to her left and smiled to Prince Oscar as his own steed pulled up alongside hers. "I didn't realize Anslas was so big!"

"It's the second largest city in Rheland." Oscar replied.

"I could tell just from the crowds alone! Who would have thought a children's craft activity would bring about so many people."

"Well, we can't let adults have all the fun, now can we. The Harvest Festival is supposed to bring everyone together, not just grown-ups."

Anna giggled quietly to herself. "I suppose you're right. Besides, getting lost in the crowd isn't so bad when the majority of it only comes up waist high."

"True." Oscar glanced behind them briefly, "though in today's circumstance, I wish we could have gotten lost a bit easier."

Anna followed his gaze to see their guarded escort following a short way behind them. "We're safer with them though…"

"I just don't like being followed about."

She shot him a teasing smile. "No, you just wanted the afternoon alone with me."

"Oh yes. Alone in a crowd of excited children and their parents."

"Psh. You know what I meant." Anna huffed and swat at his arm.

Oscar chuckled and nudged her back. "Did you enjoy the afternoon?"

"Of course!" Anna replied enthusiastically. "I didn't realize there were going to be so many artists present. The pieces from that auction were breathtaking. And those children learning to paint? It's a shame this festival wasn't going on when I was little. I would have loved for Mama or Papa to have brought me."

Well… assuming we could—or would—with the gates closed and all….

"You still could have participated if you wanted to. No one would have stopped you." Oscar replied, "And I for one would have loved to see what artistic talents you had to offer."

Anna burst into another round of giggles just as their horses entered the stables. "Trust me. You would not."

Oscar gave his reins a tug to stop his horse. "Trust me, I would. Very much." He easily dismounted and walked around to Anna's steed, holding his arms out to her. She carefully eased off the saddle and slid off the horse, falling right into his waiting hold.

Her cheeks flushed instantly as she stood in his arms, her hands still resting on his chest, his arm wrapped safely around her waist. For those few moments when her eyes became lost in his, she couldn't bring herself to break away. She and Oscar spent a lot of festival and personal time together. Even though their relationship remained on a friendship level, she couldn't help but feel closer, and a little attracted to him. There was a logical part of her that wanted to keep this relationship strictly platonic and let Oscar know that nothing else could—or would—come from it, and that she preferred to remain alone.

The other part was begging the opposite. She's gotten to know the Rheland prince pretty well. He appeared to be a good man. Fair, honest, compassionate, not to mention physically appealing. How bad could it really be to let him court her? It wasn't as if he was going to propose marriage the instant that she gave the all-clear. He wasn't Hans, and he could never be. That disaster was three years ago, and after almost a year since her break-up with Kristoff, perhaps it was time for her to try again. At least here, she'd be doing it on her own terms. She had told Elsa she was happy being alone, but that wasn't completely true. Yes, there was a certain level of enjoyment to her new level of freedom, but she was alone for most of her life. Even now, after the gates have been open for years and she was surrounded by friends and family, she still craved a new level of companionship. Granted, it wasn't an obsessive need like the day of the coronation, but the basic desire was still there.

And frankly, she was getting tired of fending off unpleasant suitors from places she's never even heard of.

"Ahem." Someone cleared their throat from across the stables, and their voice was rather short. "I hope I'm not interrupting."

The sudden intrusion startled them both out of their dreamy trance, and Anna instantly pressed her hands into Oscar's chest to pry them apart.

"I-I'm sorry!" Anna began apologizing as she turned around to address their newcomer. "We were—" and then her face fell.

Oh. It's just Hans.

"Ah, Prince Hans!" Oscar greeted the fellow prince cordially. "It's been quite a few days since we've seen you."

Hans offered a small nod, "I've kept to myself mostly."

"Ah." Oscar nodded in return and gestured to Anna. "Well, we just returned from a ride to Anslas. They're holding an art display this weekend—"

"Yes, I was there with Queen Charlotte yesterday."

"Then I hope it was as pleasant an experience for you as it was for us." Oscar replied. "And today, it was a beautiful day, and remains so, if you'd like to take a horse for some air."

"Thank you." Hans replied with a shrug of his shoulders. "But I was planning on just spending time in here."

"In the stables?" Oscar looked to Anna and they shared equally puzzled looks.

Hans' eyebrow raised. "I like horses."

Anna watched Hans as he walked past them both towards one of the open stalls. She noticed that same notebook tucked under his arm from the first time she bumped into him. What, is he plotting out his next kingdom take-over? Who needs a journal that large?

"What's the notebook for?" She found herself asking before she could censor herself. Now she regretted the curiosity because Hans was staring right at her. But it wasn't the shy, fearful Hans from that first day here. Today he seemed rigid, agitated, possibly at them. She couldn't figure out why. They didn't do anything, and they had just as much right to be in the stables as him.

Hans' gaze redirected to the notebook in his arms. His mouth opened and then closed as he seemed to debate what to say.

"It's just a sketchbook."

His response surprised her. She expected him to make some witty or sarcastic comment about her prying. Hans draws? Not that really wanted to be in the man's presence longer than need be, but she was curious to what exactly was in there now. However, just as she was about to open her mouth, she felt Oscar reach our and clasp her hand in his, drawing her attention.

"An artist! How wonderful! Anna here wouldn't show me what skills she had to offer this afternoon, but perhaps one day we'll be able to see your talents."

Hans raised a brow at the pair as he eyed them suspiciously. "One day. Maybe."

Oscar then gave Anna's hand a tug. "Well then. Come along, my dear. It seems our humble stables serves as a source of inspiration for our friend here. Let's leave him to his muse." Before Anna could offer any sort of response, the crowned prince led her from the stables onto the path back to the castle.

"What was that all about?" Anna asked once they were far enough away. "Are you in some sort of hurry?"

"No." Oscar replied. "But I could feel the tension radiating off of you. And he seemed none too pleased about finding us in his preferred hiding place."

Anna blinked. "He hides in the stables?"

"I overheard him talking to one of our stable hands last week. He's frequented the place quite often since the festival began. Apparently, he prefers horses to people for company."

"Hmph." Anna huffed. "I'd call him odd for it, but one of my best friends back home feels that way towards his reindeer, so I suppose I'm not quite in the position to judge. If Hans wants to hide away in there, then let him. Now I know where to avoid for the remainder of my stay."

"Oh?" Oscar said. He stopped walking and let his shoulders slouch a little. "Does that mean you won't allow me to take you on another horseback ride?"

"Oh—I meant more for when I'm by myself—" she paused, and she glanced over at him, backtracking a few steps to stand beside him. "Wait, another ride? Is Anslas hosting another activity for us to attend? I thought you didn't want your guards following us around."

"Well…" He took each of her hands in his and pulled his arms in, drawing her closer to him. "We won't need them if we stay on the grounds, now will we. I was thinking more of a small venture, perhaps a quiet picnic…."

She felt her cheeks flush again. Based on his body language alone, she could tell what he was alluding to, but decided to play it innocent anyway. "Oscar… that sounds very nice. Who will be joining us? Your sister maybe—"

"Definitely not Josie," He sighed, "She will only bemoan about how the object of her affections wants nothing to do with her."

"You mean Hans?" She couldn't help but laugh. "She's better off without him, trust me."

"Yes, she'll get over him by the time the festival is over." He replied with a shrug of his shoulders, then turned his sights back on her. "Well?"

"Well what?" Anna asked absently. "O-oh. You mean your proposal…"

"How does tomorrow, late morning sound?"

Anna offered him a quirky smile. "I haven't said yes yet, Silly."

Oscar matched her expression. "You haven't said no, either. So…"

"It sounds like you're trying to court me, your highness," Anna replied slyly. "Is that what you're up to?"

Oscar nodded his head back and forth before answering. "Is that what you would like it to be?" His hands gently squeezed hers, and he raised them up to press gently into his torso. "I for one would like that very much."

Those inner feelings were starting to flare again. Her heart seemed to flutter when his eyes met hers. She hadn't had such feelings about a man since…well. No, he wouldn't occupy her thoughts anymore. Maybe it really was time to start over. And what real harm would there be? In just over a week, the festival would be over, and she'd have to go home. Any budding courtship would have to resort to letters until another reunion somewhere.

"…I think I might like that, too. But… please don't overdo it. We are still supposed to be friends." Once she finally said it, she started to feel more confident about the decision. Her cheeks naturally turned a brighter shade of red when a look of pure joy shined across his face, and he brought her hands up so he could lay a light kiss to the backs of each one.

"I'll make all of the arrangements then." He smiled warmly, "It's a date."

"Oh Agatha," Queen Charlotte sighed as she practically stumbled into her bedchamber and closed the door behind her. "What a day…."

The lady's maid stopped fluffing the bed pillows to address her mistress. "Busy day, Milady?"

"My yes." Charlotte crossed the room and sat down on a chaise lounge near the lit fireplace. "I met with the ambassador this morning in a meeting that kept me all the way through luncheon with Kings Wilhelm and Alastor. Then this afternoon Queen Helene took Prince Hans and I to Oslton for to see part of a local exhibit. "She let out a long exhale and stretched out on her seat. "Today just seemed to be nonstop."

"Your last few days have been just as full." Agatha remarked and came over. She knelt before the queen's feet and assisted in removing her shoes. "This festival has been the busiest your schedule has been in a long time—"

"You're absolutely right." Charlotte replied and tucked her feet up under her skirts once her shoes were off. "The last I've been this active was when Frederick and I undertook a kingdom-wide tour after the coronation. Still, I enjoy being active like this. Whether for business or pleasure, I do get a sense of fulfillment from our community engagements."

"It's also important for you to look after yourself." Agatha replied. "You've been go-go-go. Now you need a rest!"

Charlotte leaned back and glanced towards the fireplace, watching the flames. "My schedule tomorrow is pretty open. I was only planning on writing some letters and perhaps taking a stroll through Oskberg." She closed her eyes for a moment and took in a deep breath.

"Your Majesty?" Agatha asked with concern and she gently placed the back of her hand against the queen's rosy cheek.

"I'm… I'm alright." Charlotte replied after a few more breaths. "I think perhaps the spicy dinner is affecting me."

"Would you care for anything? Or perhaps I should prepare you for bed?"

Charlotte replied after a yawn. "I think bed might be a good idea." She slowly sat up and swung her legs over the other side of the lounge and stood. "I could use the extra rest." She remained still and patient while her maid loosened the fasteners of her dress. "What of you, Agatha?"

"Me, Milady?"

"Was your schedule as busy as mine?"

The older woman only laughed, "I had plenty to do today, Ma'am. I can assure you. There wasn't much free time."

"Oh Agatha," Charlotte teased, turning the conversation back on her, "you have to be able to look after yourself, enjoy some of the festival."

"But I—"

"—no buts." Charlotte insisted and stepped out of the pooling of underskirts on the floor. "Tomorrow, you have the afternoon off. Go enjoy Oskberg. There's plenty of festivities going on every day."

"If you're sure…"

"I am." Charlotte smiled to her maid. "You're a hard worker, and I feel it often goes unrewarded. Take some time for yourself. It'll do you good. Especially since the tail end of this week will be busier again with the party."

"Ah, and that reminds me. Your gown is pressed and clean for this weekend." Agatha replied as she helped the queen into her nightdress.

"Wonderful!" Charlotte walked to her vanity and sat down. Her hands went up to free her long tresses from the several pins holding it in its updo. From the reflection in the mirror, she could see Agatha picking up all of the garments from the floor. The room was quiet now, and Charlotte was soon focused on running the brush through her hair. Exhausted as she was though, she wasn't sure if she would be able to fall asleep right away.

A quick stretch, and she was up and heading for the bed. Agatha had already pulled back the heavy bedding, so she climbed right in and pulled the blankets up to her waist and propped herself up against a few of her larger pillows.

"Agatha? Is my writing tablet here somewhere?"

"Yes, Ma'am."

"Could you bring it?" Charlotte asked. "I think I'll get a head start on one of those letters tonight."

"Of course," Agatha set the garment pile aside and gathered the necessary writing instruments from the desk. "But wouldn't it be easier here where there's room?"

"Probably." Charlotte let out a small chuckle. "But it's far more comfortable here. And this seems like a proper place with what I have to say," She gave a soft smile as she took the tablet, pen and parchment onto her lap. "Thank you, Agatha. And that'll be all for tonight. I'll see you in the morning." Once Agatha left, the queen took a moment to resettle herself. Her gaze shifted to her side at the empty half of the bed and she let out a sad sigh. Her hand reached over to trace the bedsheets, and then the pillow. They were cool, and once again served as a reminder that they wouldn't be warmed tonight, at least, not by anyone other than her.

She fought to suppress a yawn. The letter didn't have to be written tonight. She could easily set her writing supplies aside, stack up some of the extra pillows beside her and cling to them as she tried to sleep, just as she's done for the last week-and-a-half. But even a firm stack of pillows couldn't replace the warmth and comfort of her husband, and all she'd have in store would be another quiet, lonely evening. But would she rather lay awake for hours struggling to find peaceful dreams? Or use the time wisely and write.

Charlotte didn't need another moment to decide. Uncapping her pen, she took a deep breath before bringing it up against the parchment.

Sunday, 6th of November 1842

My darling Frederick…

-The Southern Isles—

Tensions have been running high in the Westergaard castle. With the queen abroad for several weeks now, King Frederick made a point to bury himself in his work. Unfortunately for the rest of the household, her absence each passing day only made him more irritable. Eventually, his moods began to project onto his brothers. Even the elder twins Viktor and Georg, the two most light-hearted, jovial, and mischievous of the clan, were starting to be affected by the king. They've started taking it upon themselves to butt into Frederick's study to help him manage not only his workload, but his sanity.

"Ten days…" Tomas sighed as he collapsed into his chair at the dinner table.

"Ten days, seven hours," Lars corrected him. Not bothering to wait for the rest of the family, he snatched up a small roll from the center platter and began picking it apart.

Tomas put his head into his hands and let out a loud groan, "I don't know if I can take much more of this."

"Of what?" Astor asked as he strolled into the dining room and took a seat closer to the head of the table.

"Freddy." Lars answered. Little bits of breadcrumbs spewed from his mouth as he spoke. "He's more of an ass than normal, and that's saying something."

"Manners please." Astor rolled his eyes at his younger brother. "Just because Charlotte isn't here, that doesn't give you the excuse to act uncivilized."

"Oh, lighten up." Lars swallowed his mouthful and slumped back in his chair. "No one else really cares. And you and I both know manners will go right out the window once Dirk and Derrick show up for dinner."

"It's not like Frederick will even notice." Tomas added, snatching up some bread for himself. "He's too busy wallowing in misery."

"You two really have no idea what he's dealing with right now," Astor countered and nodded to Viktor and Georg as they entered the room. "This goes far beyond the absence of the queen. He's under a tremendous deal of stress." He observed the similar, unimpressed looks on Lars and Tomas' faces. "Honestly, the two of you will never have to deal with the pressures of managing a kingdom."

Before the younger Westergaards could begin to retort, Frederick slowly strolled in. All of the younger men stood up for him until Frederick waved his hand out, and they sat back down. He didn't verbally acknowledge anyone until he took his seat at the head of the table. And it wasn't to any of his brothers, but to the head footman to start serving dinner.

"Shouldn't we wait for Dirk and Derrick?" Lars asked.

"No." Frederick shook his head, "if they can't bother to come on time, they can fend for themselves."

"Thank god." Tomas muttered under his breath, "I'm starving…"

Viktor and Georg exchanged glances before turning to Frederick. "So… Viktor began. The servant placed a soup bowl before him, and he picked up his spoon. "Any news from the agents abroad?"

"No." Frederick replied shortly and started on his first course.

"Well, that's a good thing, isn't it?" Lars asked.

"I would rather receive word that Alvania or any other kingdom were up to something. Then I could prepare. I could take appropriate action. I could send word to Rheland and have Charlotte and Hans brought safely home. On the other hand, we could be informed that all is well, and the previously mentioned military activity was nothing to be concerned about. That would certainly give good reason to relax." Frederick replied and set his spoon down beside his bowl. "In times like these, a lack of knowledge is weakness. With our family abroad, the unknown brings about much fear for—"

"—well, I don't think any of us really fear for Hans." Tomas joked and immediately shrank back when Frederick shot him a glare.

"My point is, I don't trust Viktor Beker or the Alvanians. Their recent activity—what we know of it—is alarming and if remained unchecked, a lot of damage could be done."

"Speaking of potential damage…" Lars leaned in to whisper into Astor's ear as the doors to the dining room burst open and Dirk and Derrick, the youngest set of twins, sauntered into the dining room. They had to sidestep the servants moving about the table serving dinner.

"You're late." Frederick chided. "You missed the first course."

"Nah." Dirk waved his brother off and reached for the meat platter in front of him. "We had an appetizer in town."

Astor grimaced at the various pink and red smudges across both his and Derrick's faces. Clearly, their appetizer wasn't food, but he refrained from calling it out. And he wasn't the only one to notice or be disgusted by it. Frederick also had an upset look on his face, and he pushed his plate away and leaned back in his chair. His dinner was barely touched. "Fred, you've got to eat." He said softly.

Frederick quickly shook his head and rubbed his forehead, "I can't."

"You skipped lunch." Viktor reminded him, "And you didn't eat much yesterday either."

Tomas perked up hearing their chatter. "Well, if he doesn't want his plate, I'll take it!"

Astor ignored Tomas and turned back in his chair. "Frederick, what's Charlotte going to say when she returns to find you've ben neglecting yourself?"

"Yeah. At this rate you'll be all skin and bones like Lars here."

"You know what they say? All work and no play made Freddy a dull boy." Derrick said with his mouth full. "How 'bout we take you back to town with us later. I know a lovely blonde—"

"—oh, shut up." Frederick snapped and picked at the biscuit on his plate. The remainder of that course was left in awkward silence. The only sounds in the room were coming from the silverware striking against the china. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity for the king, a footman approached to take away his full plate. Before he walked away though, he reached into his pocket and set a sealed envelope down on the table.

"Your Majesty," The young man said quietly, when the king didn't seem to notice the mail before him. "This arrived for you a short while ago."

"I'll read it later." Frederick mumbled and waved the man off.

"It's from Rheland—"

Now that got the King's attention. He sat up in his chair and glanced at the servant. "Rheland?"

"Yes, sir." The servant replied quickly and gathered other dirty dishes nearby so dessert could come out.

Newfound energy surged through the eldest Westergaard. A letter from Rheland meant it was most likely from Charlotte. She'd been gone for three weeks now and this was the first bit of correspondence he's received since. Her lack of news was certainly a contributing factor in his foul mood. He was counting on her supposed frequent letters, hoping something would give him clues to the political atmosphere. But there wasn't any news. Until now.

Grabbing his dinner knife, he eagerly ripped open the envelope and pulled out the parchment inside. Several long pages. His eyes quickly scanned over the top page and a relieving smile formed across his face.

"It's Charlotte's hand."

"Oh!" Viktor leaned forward in his seat. "What's she got to say?"

"Is she enjoying the festival?" Astor asked.

"Is Hans giving her a hard time?" Lars snickered.

Frederick raised a brow. "Shall I just read it out-loud and stop this constant stream of questions?" He cleared his throat and smoothened out the parchment in his hands.

"My darling Frederick—"

"Aww, Tomas, Dirk and Derrick cooed.

Frederick rolled his eyes and continued to read, "What a wonderful time we are having here in Rheland! Hans and I received a lovely welcome from the royal family. We settled in very easily, and even had a few days to ourselves before the main festivities began. Queen Helene offered me a delightful tour of Oskberg and Anslas. I'm glad we packed plenty of casual attire. It's been such fun blending in with the crowds.

"Our rooms surround an enclosed garden. I know for a fact that Hans spends a great deal of time there. He really is enjoying his time away from home. I'm so happy that—"

"Eh. If this paragraph is just about Hans, skip to the next one." Dirk groaned. "So long as he isn't making an ass of himself, I don't think any of us really care what he does."

Frederick gave his brother a pointed look before addressing the page. "…fine."

"The festival itself has been delightful. Hans and I, along with Queen Helene and young Princess Josephine have taken a very engaging tour of Shultz farm east of Oskberg. I think I can safely say I've never picked so many apples in my life—" Frederick paused as a few chuckles escaped him. "and speaking of food! My goodness, darling—"

"Oh, skip the mushy language please." Lars requested.

"Do you want me to read this to you or not?!"

"Ignore the trolls." Georg said and nodded in Frederick's direction. "Keep going, brother."

"Thank you." Frederick scanned the page to find where he left off. "My goodness - it seems everywhere we turn there's plenty of it. I can't even tell you how many different pies, cookies and cakes I've tasted. Between local harvests directly at the farms to children's bake sales in town, there's never a shortage. And fear not, I have quite a few delicious samples to bring home for you to taste. Last week, Queen Helene and I went down to the royal kitchens and we helped the cook prepare some of her favorite delicacies. Of course, by help, I mean merely mixing some batter and providing pleasant conversation. Frau Hess wouldn't let us use knives or get too involved. She didn't want us to get our hands dirty—"

"My god, she's making me hungry all over again." Viktor sighed and rubbed his stomach. "Hungry for everything that's not on this table."

Frederick grinned. "She goes on about food for a bit longer. I'll spare your appetites and move on."

"Anslas held an art showcase with the colorful changing of the leaves as the theme. There was a painting activity for local children in the park, and under a large set-up tent there was even an auction. I may or may not have splurged on a few pieces for the castle. I will say, out of many of the events and activities Hans and I attended together, this one was the one he was most excited about. Hans seemed very much in his element. We had a busy schedule and couldn't stay long, but I'm sure if we could have, Hans would have sat down and painted some of his own fall landscapes. He really enjoyed watching the young ones. We almost had to drag him back to the carriage.

In Anerheim, there's going to be a concert held in the afternoon tomorrow. King Alastor of Malengrad will be going with me. He's been asking about you and how you've been. I'm sure you remember he was a close friend to your father. He hasn't—

"Actually, I'll skip over that part." Frederick set the papers down briefly to take a drink from his water goblet.

"Well, it certainly sounds like she's been busy." Astor commented.

"Yes." Frederick nodded and gestured to the page. "She goes on a bit more about her shared time with the royal family and a few meetings with other ambassadors. Nothing that would really interest the rest of you."

"What about that page there?" Viktor asked, nudging the third page.

Frederick swapped papers and began to read silently. As his eyes moved along the page, his cheeks began reddening, and a quirky smile started growing on his face. About halfway down the paper, he snapped back to his senses and remembered he wasn't alone. He cleared his throat and refolded the parchment, tucking it safely into his pocket.

"Actually, I think that's enough news for one day."

"Oh no!" Derrick demanded. "That page has all the best parts!"

Dirk wolf-whistled. "I'd say the steamiest parts judging by how red his face is."

"Yes, well. This page is for my eyes only. The rest of you can enjoy your dessert. I think I'll just retreat back to my chambers." Frederick quickly rose from his seat and swept from the room, ignoring the snickering of his brothers.

He was relieved to find his master suite empty. It didn't take him long to settle down on the bed and fully engross himself in Charlotte's letter. When he made it to the bottom of the page, he started back up at the beginning again. With it being the only connection to his wife in weeks, he was afraid if he set the correspondence down, it would disappear. After a while, he traced his fingers along the page, letting himself be absorbed in his own little world.

"Charlotte would kill you if she saw you with your boots on the bed, you know."

Astor's sudden voice startled the king and he jolted from his reading. The page fell from his hands and his eyes snapped towards the doorway. "For god's sake… don't you knock?"

"I do. I was just enjoying the goofy look on your face. I've got to say, this is the most relaxed I've seen you since she left." Astor smirked and glanced down at the plate in his hands. "I went down to the kitchens to salvage some leftovers of roast and potatoes before Tomas got his hands on them. I know you said you weren't hungry but eat them anyway."

"That gluttonous pig." Frederick rolled his eyes. "Thank you. Just set it over there." He pointed to his desk. "I'll touch it later."

Astor set the plate down and walked across the suite to lean against the wooden footboard. "So… what else did Charlotte have to say?"

Frederick shifted on the bed, propping himself up with the bed pillows. "None of your business, as I told the lot of you."

Astor smirked, "C'mon, you can share with me. I am the most mature out of the rest of us."

He certainly couldn't deny that. He chuckled and looked back at the letter fondly. "Most of the third page was of a very… intimate nature, however, she did write that there's going to be a ball held in King Wilhelm's honor this Saturday."

"Ah, that's tomorrow night then." Astor nodded. "That sounds like a fun time."

"Yes…" Frederick sighed, "though she wishes I was there. It's her first ball without my company. She… she misses me. Which is a relief for me to hear. I had assumed she didn't write because she was enjoying her time abroad to the fullest while I've been here missing her and feeling miserable." His hand went up to rub his forehead, "thank goodness she'll be home in just under two weeks."

"And I bet if you can just find a way to relax and keep your mind on your work instead of her absence, those ten days will just fly by."

"Somehow, I doubt that…"

"Hey." Astor moved and sat down on the edge of the mattress beside his older brother. "It's only seven more days in Rheland. The festival is almost over. If nothing happened this far, nothing probably will." He paused and stroked his chin, "I suppose there's nothing in her letter about foreign activity, or Rheland-Alvanian relations." Frederick shook his head. "Then try not to stress over it. Not the most ideal response, I know. But if you keep yourself as wound up as you've been, you'll go completely gray and your young wife will find herself married to an old man. It's not as if your inner worries are really going to change events anyway."

"No…" Frederick looked away towards the window for a moment. "I don't like this, Astor. I don't like not being in control. I don't like being helpless, merely waiting for something to happen. My gut tells me something is still wrong." He slid off the bed and started pacing the room. "My men abroad have never kept quiet for so long. If something has indeed happened, by the time I hear about it, it will be too late." Moving over to the window, he parted the curtains to glance outside. "Send word to the fleet admiral. Scatter a few of our ships to our southern territorial waters. I want them on standby, just in case."

Meanwhile, just outside of Etonsburg, a remote village in northern Alvania, one large military base was being cleared as soldiers started a trek east towards the Alvanian-Rheland border. Along the side of the dirt road not far beyond the camp's gates, they passed the bodies of two men in civilian attire with bullet holes through their chests. Near them on the ground were the remains of a blood-soaked parchment—the beginnings of what would have been an urgent message for King Frederick of the Southern Isles.