31. Nightcap, Volume 1

After leaving the ball room, the reception's guests were subtly herded towards the castle's main entrance by a team of guards, who made sure there was no chance for a wrong turn or a surreptitious peek into other rooms. Adam and Beatrice, attended by Olaf, were waiting by the tall doors for their parents. The children looked at ease and, to Irene's delight, somewhat worn out.

"Did you enjoy yourselves?" John asked as the family reunited with a sequence of hugs that included the little snowman for good measure. The rest of the research group, along with Nilsson and the Sverdrups, smiled and lingered to hear the children's review of their evening.

"Oh, papa, it was the best-" Adam praised.

"We had so much fun-" Beatrice told them earnestly.

"We knew some of the other children from the snowball fight, and everyone is so friendly-" Adam reported excitedly.

"When will we get to come back again?" Beatrice wanted to know.

"To be honest, I don't know how often we'll be invited to dinner at the castle," John said simply, much to the dismay of his son and daughter.

"The castle isn't the only place to meet with friends," Olaf pointed out. "You'll see them at school. And I visit town almost every day." This buoyed the children's spirits.

"Did they behave themselves tonight, Olaf?" Irene questioned.

"Of course!" Olaf replied heartily. "We only had one little mishap, but that was my fault. I was the one who let out the crickets and the lizard that Halvard brought for show-and-tell."

The adults shared looks of amused comprehension. "Crickets, eh?" Homberg said.

"Yeah. Everybody helped to round them up, and I'm pretty sure we got them all back. But we never did find the lizard," Olaf revealed.

Beatrice giggled. "It sure did run fast!"

The adults shared looks of amused disbelief. "Oh, dear," John chuckled.

"Do you know what sort of lizard it is?" Homberg asked with interest.

"Halvard called it a nordfirfisle," Adam answered. "He said he came across it in a woodpile, and it didn't move that quickly then."

"Sounds like Lacerta vivipara, the viviparous or common lizard. It was probably getting ready to hibernate for the winter," Homberg informed them. "The ones that live in the southern part of the species' range stay active all year, so I'm not sure if it would still hibernate if it's inside the castle, where it's warmer."

"I hope Queen Elsa doesn't mind an uninvited lodger," Irene said with a touch of concern.

"Don't worry. I'll catch it in no time, and take it back to its woodpile," Olaf asserted.

"If it takes a long winter's nap inside the castle, you probably won't see it again until March," Homberg warned. "And if it doesn't hibernate, it will likely seek out the warmest areas."

"No problem. I can take care of this," Olaf said blithely. "I help Anna all the time with animals that get stuck in the wrong place. Well, good night, everybody!" He waved, and they all waved back before he toddled off.

"I won't mention how often helping the Princess with animals that are stuck in the wrong place turns into chaos," Nilsson remarked drolly as they walked out into the courtyard. The Admiral and Agnete nodded knowingly.

"I can well imagine," Newark smirked. "After all of today's events, I shall never again consider Arendelle to be a dull, irrelevant speck on the map."

"Oh, it's not like this all the time, sir. We have a long, proud heritage of being dull and irrelevant," the Admiral maintained. "It keeps us out of harm's way."

They reached the courtyard's outer gates, and the sentries were once again friendly but businesslike. Irene noted that the guards scrutinized the group and once more checked off names from the guest list as they passed back out onto the causeway. Although the gates were open, apparently that didn't mean that Queen Elsa had a casual attitude about trespassing.

As they walked back towards the town, Adam glanced at the tripods that his father and most of the other adults were carrying over their shoulders. "What are those, papa?" Adam asked.

"Steady stands for telescopes," Homberg explained. "I can't wait to try out the Snow Queen's gifts. Unfortunately, the seeing isn't that good tonight. Too many clouds. But I'm sure to get an opening for something worthwhile if I'm patient."

The children momentarily forgot their fatigue. "Did you get a telescope, too, papa?" Beatrice asked, trying to peer into the box that her mother was holding.

"Yes, but both of you need to get ready for bed," John said gently. "There will be tomorrow night."

"According to the shipping reports, Wednesday should be stormy," Admiral Sverdrup cut in. "That means Tuesday evening will be completely overcast, and Thursday evening could still be cloudy as well."

"Come now, let them have a glimpse tonight!" Homberg beseeched. "It will only take a few minutes to set it up and calibrate it. The clouds are at least moving fast. We'll have a few windows of opportunity."

John sighed and consulted Irene, who grinned. "Three nights of restless impatience, including yours and mine, versus a few minutes of looking through a telescope now. And it's an educational experience: Mr. Homberg and Prof. Newark can tell us about what we're seeing."

"When you put it that way..." John conceded. The children smiled with anticipation.

Once they reached the waterfront plaza, the Sverdrups bade the rest of the group a good evening before turning for their home.

"Ladies and gentlemen, it's been a pleasure. We wish you happy viewing of the night sky," the Admiral tendered.

"And I hope to see you all at the Harvest Festival. It might be a quaint celebration in a small country, but it's fun," Agnete said.

"Maybe we can get the Admiral to regale everybody with stories about the times he fought sea monsters and Barbary corsairs in the same battle," Nilsson proposed.

"I have no intention of letting Arendelle's most senior military officer tipple that much anymore," Agnete declared. "It's getting harder for me to throw him over my shoulder and haul home. We'll leave the tall tales to other people." She and her husband waved farewell and walked off arm in arm.

"It's like the end of an era," Nilsson said dolefully.

"I take it the Admiral's far-fetched yarns are a highlight of your country's festivities," Duffin inferred, sidling closer to Nilsson with the intention of following after the official once she headed for home in order to ask for an interview later on.

"Yes, but an even bigger highlight is Agnete lifting him like a stevedore manhandling cargo," Nilsson professed. "You need to see it to appreciate it."

The visitors shared looks of amused astonishment before Homberg and Newark began setting up the tripods and affixing the telescopes. "Just about ready for action. I'll teach you what to do with these knobs, dials, and levers later," Homberg said as he and Newark took preliminary looks at a break in the clouds after one final tweak of the rigs.

"Ooooooooooh!" Newark and Homberg chorused.

"That good, huh?" asked Papadopoulos.

"If ... if this is what ... Her Majesty's portable version is capable of..." Homberg's words failed him. Newark was entirely speechless.

"I looked through the big one at the observatory's inauguration. No offense, Father, but it was the greatest religious experience of my life," Nilsson said quietly.

"No offense taken, madam. There's no way a sermon or a structure built by humans could compare with God's own handiwork," Papadopoulos said with sincere humility.

Homberg tore himself away from his eyepiece and gestured to the doctor, who boosted his daughter up for her first ever look through a telescope. Newark, still silent, hoisted Adam up to the ocular lens of his.

"What is that, Mr. Homberg?" Beatrice gasped.

"The planet Saturn and its famous rings," Homberg whispered in awe. "I have never before seen them so clearly."

"It's beautiful! Why does it have rings?" Beatrice wondered.

"It's still a mystery, my dear," Homberg admitted. "We don't know why, or what the rings are made of."

"Why don't you let your mother have a turn, Beatrice," John suggested after a few moments. "Besides, you're getting heavy." He grunted as he set her back down. "I don't think you weighed this much before dinner."

Newark also put Adam back on the ground. "Go pester your sister," the Myrcian said good-humoredly and motioned to John to take a turn. Adam smiled sleepily.

The doctor gave a low whistle when he saw the magnified globe. The ring stood in sharp relief around the amber orb, and the shadow cast by the encircling annulus dramatically accentuated the planet's spherical shape. The concept of other worlds and the implications were mind-boggling. If this marvelous, enormous marble was a sibling of the Earth, what kind of incredible satellites were looping around exotic suns? John stepped aside for Duffin, whose jaw dropped at the sight.

"Why is Saturn yellowish? Is that the surface of an ocean or clouds?" asked Irene, amazed by the planet and the clarity of the view of something that had to be at least tens of millions of kilometers away. It was obvious to her now why all so many people came to study Queen Elsa's magic or ask her for favors.

The midwife beckoned to Eliasz to have a look. The Pole couldn't help but do a double take, pulling away from the telescope to look at the sixth planet unaided, and then returning to viewing through the magical ice-lenses before the clouds obscured the target.

"Also a mystery," Homberg stated. "There's so much we have yet to learn about the cosmos. I have extremely high hopes now for Arendelle's observa- Wait! Is it getting hotter, or is it just me?"

"It's definitely getting warmer," confirmed Debora.

They all glanced around somewhat nervously for signs of a fire, but there were none. Just as suddenly, the crisp temperature of the autumn evening returned.

"The Snow Queen!" deduced Sinibaldo, and now they all glanced around somewhat nervously for the monarch of Arendelle, but the castle's causeway was deserted.

"So she's also the Heat Wave Queen?" asked Papadopoulos with great curiosity.

"Not really. According to previous researchers, it's much, much harder for her to remove natural cold, even briefly, than it is for her to return a system to its previous temperature after using her magic. It's also more difficult for her to thaw naturally occurring ice than water that she has frozen," Eliasz elucidated. "However, if she did that from inside the castle, it would seem that particular ability is getting stronger. The last documented time that somebody asked her to try, she could barely warm up the magic lab classroom for a few seconds. Waclaw, please add that to our list of experiments."

Waclaw produced a pencil and small memorandum book from his suit's pocket and dutifully made a note of it.

"What do you suppose brought that on, then?" asked Papadopoulos.

"Just venting steam, I'd guess," Nilsson quipped. "Making ice sculptures might not have been enough of an outlet after all the problems she had tonight."

"Did a lizard get loose in your dining room, too?" Beatrice queried innocently.

"Unfortunately, no. Nothing as good as that," Nilsson said wistfully. "A lizard on the lam trumps a drunken diplomat and an errant princess."

"Princess Anna was naughty?" Beatrice concluded with far too much inquisitiveness for her parents' liking.

"She just behaved inappropriately for the occasion," Irene quibbled.

"Which is a polite way of saying she was naughty," Nilsson clarified.

"Is she in trouble? How do princesses get punished? Do they get locked in a tower?" Beatrice fretted, somewhat distressed about what would happen to the nice young lady who had shown them around Arendelle, given what usually happened to princesses in most of the stories she knew.

"Queen Elsa wouldn't lock up anyone," Nilsson said emphatically, and the other adults perceived the profound significance of the statement. "Her Majesty has a very good sense of justice, as befits a great sovereign. She usually tries to find constructive ways for wrong-doers to make amends for what they did."

"Even her own sister?" Beatrice asked.

"Even her own sister. Queen Elsa is fair to everyone," Nilsson said. "Banishing the minions while letting the ringleader go with nary a consequence wouldn't be right."

Beatrice reflected on that. "They're sure not like the princesses and magical queens in fairy tales."

"Thank goodness," Nilsson chuckled. "Well, ladies and gents, I'll leave you to your stargazing."

"Good evening, Minister Nilsson. Perhaps we'll see you at the Harvest Festival," Debora said.

"Undoubtedly, especially if you pass by the booth selling hard cider," Nilsson joshed.

"I'll be turning in as well," Duffin announced. "I need to prepare for my audience with the Queen tomorrow."

"It's time for us to head for home, too," John added.

"But papa-" Adam protested.

"No 'buts!' Therewill be other nights, eventually," John said firmly. "Besides, you wouldn't want to be too tired to take a castle tour tomorrow morning, would you?"

"No, sir!" Adam and Beatrice said in unison.

"Oh, I forgot the tours run tomorrow!" Debora realized. "I'll probably need a few visits to take it all in."

"She'll be applying for a side job as a tour guide before you know it," Eliasz said dryly. Zlata and Waclaw laughed into their hands.

"Good night, friends," John said.

"Thank you for showing us Saturn, Mr. Homberg," Beatrice said shyly.

"Yes, thank you," Adam echoed. John patted his children's shoulders in approval, proud that he didn't have to prod them to remember their manners.

"It was my pleasure," Homberg said. "When we get better viewing conditions, we'll put these telescopes through their paces. I'll be sure to check into the university library's holdings, and see if there are any good astronomy books for you to read - and examine their celestial almanacs for upcoming conjunctions and other exciting events in the heavens."

"Thank you, Mr. Homberg. We would like that very much," Irene said with a smile.

"Should we thank Snow Queen Elsa, too?" Beatrice asked. The adults all shared thoughtful looks.

"If the microscope matches the telescope's quality -and I'm positive it does- tonight's door prizes are worth a king's ransom," Newark commented quietly.

"I need to have a talk with that girl about handing out kings' ransoms like after-dinner mints," Nilsson jested.

"A formal note of appreciation would seem to be called for," John said with a wry smile. "We'll get a card tomorrow, and either drop it off at the castle, or give it to someone to pass along. Now, off to bed."

They all waved farewell, and the Mandelbaums, Waclaw, and the Scurrs made their way to the university level of the town, where they and many other instructors from outside Arendelle had their residences, while Nilsson headed toward the houses on the flanks of the lower hills that surrounded the harbor. Duffin caught up with the Arendellian before she turned a second corner.

"Excuse me, Minister Nilsson. May I have a word with you?" the historian spoke softly.

"Certainly, ma'am," Nilsson said genially and came to a halt.

"May I interview you, whenever it's convenient?" Duffin solicited.

"Me? Whatever for?" Nilsson asked, somewhat taken aback.

"Any information about early displays of the Queen's magic would be very helpful to me," Duffin entreated. "There is nothing known about the time before the gates were shut. I assumed that was because her powers hadn't surfaced before then, but Her Majesty corrected me today. I've heard about the blizzard, ice crystals, and aurora when she was born, but so far, you're the only person I've come across who knew about the Snow Queen's powers before her coronation."

Nilsson continued walking. Duffin kept pace with her.

"Well, her parents obviously knew better than to let a young child who could create ice and snow out of thin air roam freely, so there aren't many people who did know," Nilsson related. "And some of the ones who knew have passed away. Of natural causes, by the way. The physician and the midwife who attended Her Majesty's birth have been gone for a few years now."

"So the King had a policy of secrecy even before he shut the gates," Duffin mused.

"Of course. Most of the people accept her now, after she's mastered it, and after there is solid evidence that she's responsible and good, that she did and still would make extreme sacrifices to keep us safe. But an unplumbed six-year-old running loose in public exploring the extent of her abilities would be another story. As would a two-year-old throwing a magical tantrum, no matter how small in scale," Nilsson posited. "And knowing what we do now about what happens if her magic strikes a heart, things could have gone wrong very quickly."

Duffin's eyes were wide. "I never thought of all the implications of having magical powers from birth. It must have been challenging to deal with her fits of temper or distress."

"I myself never witnessed one," Nilsson testified. "I have no idea what form her tantrums took or how strong her magic was, or even if one ever actually occurred, because I was never around her before she could speak coherently. Castle scuttlebutt had it that Queen Elsa was well-behaved and calm as an infant and toddler - which is as weird for this dynasty as having magical powers. However, the potential for an outburst undoubtedly would have been there, and therefore also the potential for the people to be afraid of her."

Duffin pondered that for a moment. "I suppose that would present a problem for everybody. But did her father always plan on hiding her magic from the public forever?"

"Listen, I was just the bookkeeper. I only discovered Her Majesty's powers by accident, not because I was a close confidant of King Agnarr," Nilsson asserted. "I have no idea how he originally intended to handle his heir's magic in the long term. You will need to ask the Queen about such things. I never had much direct interaction with the royals, even after I found out. I saw her use magic, or the effects of her magic, only seven times before the gates were shut, so I'm not much help to you."

"Considering how well the family kept the magic a secret, that's a veritable trove of data. I'll take anything I can get. But if you don't want to talk about it, I understand," Duffin said. "It must have been uncomfortable to keep something so extraordinary to yourself for so long."

"Oh, you're looking at it from the perspective of someone obsessed with magic and finding proof of its existence. But if you look beyond the magic, you may have noticed that Her Majesty is a decent human being. As were her parents," Nilsson said. "It was very easy to respect the family's privacy in regard to the magic, just as I didn't go around blabbing to the general populace about how much they spent on staffing, clothes, or hospitality. It was a little harder not to tell Princess Anna, when she would make her rounds, moaning about how her sister ignored her. As tempting as it was to explain to her that big sis wasn't doing it to be spiteful or out of disapproval, we couldn't trust Her Highness not to do something impulsive if she had learned about the magic."

"Did the King ever threaten you?" Duffin asked bluntly.

"Agnarr of Arendelle was not that type of ruler," Nilsson defended. "He merely asked me to never tell anyone else. Of course I knew that I could have been executed or imprisoned, and I don't know what he would have done if I had wanted to expose their little secret. But I sincerely didn't want to rock the boat, and he understood that. I have my moments of impudence, but I also know when to be serious. This is going to sound old-fashioned and sappy, but I believe in being loyal to a reasonable, conscientious, good leader. King Agnarr had Arendelle's and his family's best interests at heart. I didn't want to wreck the lives of an upstanding family or bring about my country's downfall. This isn't such a bad place to live, and maybe it's selfish of me, but I would like to keep it that way. Speaking of which, here is my den of iniquity."

They stopped in front of a snug-looking and well-maintained house perched on one of the lower rises that bordered the inlet. "You must have a lovely view of the harbor and castle," Duffin said.

"I do. It may not be the biggest house, but this is prime real estate by town standards. Would you like to come in or continue the conversation tomorrow?" Nilsson offered as she opened the front door.

"I don't want to bother your husband, Minister," the historian demurred.

"I'm happily single, Miss Duffin," Nilsson said with an impish grin. "Currently, there isn't even a dog or cat to mooch off of me, so you won't be disturbing anybody." She gestured invitingly toward the interior.

"I see. Well, if it genuinely won't put you out, I'd like to talk to you tonight," Duffin said. "I've had to scrap most of the questions that I had planned to ask now that I know she was born with functional powers. From what I gather about Her Majesty's schedule, this might be my only chance for a one-on-one conversation with her, and I want to make the most of it."

The two women entered, and Nilsson stopped to light a candelabrum, illuminating a cozy sitting room. The furniture was simple and practical, but well-made. The Arendellian removed the grate from the fireplace, raked the embers, and added a few more sticks, bringing the flames back to life. Duffin deposited the gifts from the Snow Queen by the coat rack.

"Can I get you anything to drink or eat, Miss Duffin?" Nilsson asked as she carefully removed a crocheted blanket that was still a work in progress from the sofa. The pattern of nautical motifs gave a hint about its intended recipients. She beckoned for Duffin to have a seat.

"Oh, please, no," Duffin playfully groaned as she settled in. "After tonight's portions, I don't even want to think about breakfast."

"Well, I'm going to make myself a cup of cocoa. Princess Anna has formulated a wonderful recipe. It's just the right nightcap after a big meal and a busy day," Nilsson said as she walked into the kitchen and stoked the fire in the stove.

"You make that sound so tempting," Duffin wavered as her hostess filled a kettle from a pitcher of water, and set it on the cooktop to boil.

"It's as easy to make two cups as one - and I can definitely drink two, if you decide you don't want it," Nilsson said. "Although I should mind my intake nowadays. All these dinners and luncheons at the castle can do a number on a lady's or a gentleman's figure. A lot of us recently appointed high-muck-a-mucks have put on weight since our selection."

"Now I'm duty-bound to drink it to save your waistline," Duffin teased.

"The sacrifices that we make for people we hardly know," Nilsson deadpanned as she produced mugs and storage jars from the buffet's hutch.

"It's the least I can do for you, Minister. You're being very generous with your time, so I need to find a suitable way to thank you. Maybe I can buy you a few rounds at the booth selling hard cider," Duffin proposed.

"Oh, don't worry about compensating me! Besides, despite the impression you may have formed tonight, I'm really not that much of a drinker. I only resort to it in particular social settings. It's a coping mechanism," Nilsson confessed. She added the ingredients to the mugs with a meticulous eye and a steady hand.

"I see. Well, I'm grateful you took us under your wing at the reception, and I'm truly beholden to you for indulging my curiosity on such short notice, and I'll make it up to you somehow or other. I will not take 'no' for an answer. Most of the people that I depend on for solid leads and valuable information aren't anywhere near as well off as you, so I feel a strong obligation to give my sources something in return," Duffin justified.

"I'm not sure how valuable the information you get from me will be," Nilsson reiterated. "Her Majesty was only a little girl."

Nilsson poured the hot water into the mugs and stirred, before reaching into a chest that was clearly the work of the Snow Queen. She produced a chilled bottle of milk and decanted a measure into each cup. She handed Duffin the libation, and sat down in a comfortable arm chair across from the sofa. Both women took sips.

"Mmmm, that's fit for a princess," Duffin pronounced.

"Her Highness did a lot of 'research' to hit upon the combination. By the time she was satisfied with the results, all of us taste-testers were sick of cocoa for a while. Except Queen Elsa. When it comes to chocolate, I suspect she could drink everyone else under the table," Nilsson said breezily.

"A woman of many talents," Duffin bantered, and took another sip. "Speaking of which, I'd like to get down to business, so as to not keep you up too late. If you would, please describe all the times you saw or felt Her Majesty use magic before the gates closed, along with the circumstances and everyone's reactions. How did the bookkeeper accidentally stumble across the Snow Queen?"

"Master Kai was out sick, and I think the King forgot that I was handing in the expense reports myself. Or he merely forgot that the Crown Princess was still in the study with him, or didn't notice what she was doing to occupy herself when he gave me permission to enter. He could get very engrossed in his work. Plus, he was worried about Queen Iduna, who was having a difficult pregnancy," Nilsson divulged.

"What was she doing to occupy herself? Playing in snow?" Duffin asked.

"I was present for the completion of one of Her Majesty's first ice palaces, if not the first," Nilsson beamed. "Well, it looked roughly like one of the houses in town, but it was almost as tall as she was. The door and windows were out of square, the ornamental details were rudimentary and almost blurry, and it didn't have an interior, but the pitched roof was a very credible replica when it sprang into existence fully formed."

"How old was she?" Duffin asked in amazement.

"Three years and some months, I reckon. Princess Anna was still in the womb," Nilsson said, and took a long swallow of cocoa.

"So even at that young of an age, she had enough control over her powers to copy what she saw from the castle," Duffin lauded. "Very impressive."

"Queen Elsa and her 'structures.' She always has been a builder," Nilsson said affectionately.

"How did you take it?" Duffin laughed.

"Rather well, all things considered," Nilsson reminisced. "I let out a shriek, of course, and said a few phrases that were unsuitable for genteel company. But I didn't faint, or charge off to rally a lynch mob. We did, however, have a chore getting rid of the ice and snow that I startled out of the poor little thing. Meltwater and important documents aren't a good mix."

"Oh, my," Duffin cringed. "So she couldn't do a miniature Great Thaw yet?"

"I don't know if she couldn't, or if it simply didn't occur to her that she could," Nilsson shrugged. "You would have to ask her."

"It's doubtful whether she'll be able to recollect clearly," Duffin pointed out. "Did her father ask her to try to make the snow and ice disappear?"

"No. She had ducked for cover under the King's desk when I made my ruckus. It took a little gentle coaxing from her father and me to get her to come out and turn off the cold and the snow. The magnitude was small -nothing like the Eternal Winter- but it was enough to spell trouble for the paperwork if she had kept it up for much longer," Nilsson explained.

"And you weren't frightened by this child who could somehow generate cold and make snow and ice?" Duffin posed.

"Not after the first few moments, when I saw how much she trusted and minded her father. And how apologetic she was about the mess. Her motive for making the house was also very reassuring: She said that she -and I quote verbatim- 'made it for the baby to play with.' Naturally, it was going to melt before the next day was over, never mind lasting until Princess Anna graced us with her presence, but a magical tot who makes toys for her yet-to-born sibling isnot a monster. Which isn't to say that I didn't see potential disaster for the furnishings and books, but she was just a sweetheart," Nilsson said fondly.

"So she was a cheerful child?" Duffin asked pensively, and nipped at her beverage.

"In a quiet way. She was eager to learn and to help her father with his work. A born queen," Nilsson replied with surprising gravity. "Which is also as weird for this dynasty as having magical powers. They've tended to be frivolous scamps when they're children. The second time I saw her magic was the ice patches she created when she was skipping to the study. Her Majesty could read and do sums at a very young age, so King Agnarr set her to doing minor calculations and sorting and filing correspondences for him. I guess she was so excited to get to her duties that she just couldn't contain the magic."

"Daddy's little assistant at four years old?" Duffin marveled.

"It was just a token contribution at that stage. I'm sure it was more about cultivating her work ethic and encouraging her intellect than anything else," Nilsson said between swigs.

"But as a small child she genuinely liked doing work?" Duffin asked with a touch of incredulity.

"I think she liked helping," Nilsson suggested. "The third time I saw her use magic was when I was having difficulty putting a ledger book back on a top shelf in the study; she made a stepping block for me, without any prompting. Actually, without seeming to think about it. The King praised her for lending a hand, but mildly scolded her for not asking for permission to use magic.

"And the fourth time, she directed blasts of cold wind to dust off the baseboards in the library and the adjacent hallway so that a housemaid wouldn't have to clean them. She tried to pass it off as a prank, with a sly giggle and a conspiratorial wink. I must admit the look on the maid's face was priceless when she realized that there was nothing to wipe off of the trim, and couldn't figure out why there was a neat pile of grime on the floor in every corner. But if you could have seen that little girl's beautiful smile when the maid exclaimed that she didn't need to spend the next hour or so on her knees..." Nilsson tapered off and stared at the contents of her mug. "It was the practical joke of an angel."

"A child with so much power at her disposal usually bodes ill, and yet Her Majesty's early instinct was to use her magic in beneficial ways?" Duffin asked in disbelief, and quaffed more cocoa.

"My overall sense was that she was one of those shy, peaceable magical beings in the stories," Nilsson stated. "Like the ones who do some good deed for the overworked, honest farmer when he's not looking; sneak in gifts for deserving children on holidays; or who aid the hero or heroine on the noble quest."

"I can't reconcile that assessment -and what I saw today at the waterfront and at dinner- with someone who spent thirteen years trying not to use her powers at all," Duffin contended.

"She's indicated that it's complicated. A good nature and helpful intentions do not preclude being dangerous, or even just socially awkward, if you have so much power at your disposal," Nilsson supposed. "For example, somewhere along the line, creating small ice patches while skipping in a hallway turned into creating an expanse of ice that spread out from our fjord to disrupt maritime travel throughout most of the Skagerrak and even into the North Sea."

"But one could argue that if the Snow Queen had been in practice and knew her own strength, the Eternal Winter would have never happened when the secret of her powers was revealed," Duffin disputed.

"I don't think her powers could have been kept secret if she had continued using them," Nilsson put forward. "She almost gave herself away the last three times I saw her magic. In one of the castle's more public hallways that overlook the garden, there was a tiny facsimile of the flower beds, hedges, and trees done in ice on a windowsill. It wasn't as gloriously detailed as the sculptures she does now, but her skill was obvious. Good thing that the sun was rapidly turning it into a small pool of water, before it could draw too much attention."

"She made it and left it to melt?" Duffin asked.

"You will have to ask Queen Elsa when she acquired the ability to make snow and ice that are impervious to heat. And it's not necessarily a given that she noticed that she created it. Art is especially something of a reflex for the Snow Queen, even now. By the way, as a word of warning: Unintentional discharges of her powers are a topic that you need to approach from the right direction," Nilsson cautioned. "Her Majesty is very touchy about freezing Princess Anna's heart. And damaging some of the guests' ships during the Eternal Winter. And spawning the Snowgies and launching that snowball from the bukkehorn."

"Thank you for the heads-up. I don't want to get thrown out on my ear, to borrow Minister Haugen's felicitous phrase," Duffin said.

"Oh, she isn't going to throw out a guest," Nilsson insisted. "Unless, of course, you commence with drunken insults. It's just that you need to broach certain subjects slowly and diplomatically, if you hope to have a meaningful interview with her and to have a chance of being invited back. Queen Elsa is an expert at metaphorically icing over a conversation, and she's probably the world champion at being 'unavailable' to talk. There are times when no one gets anywhere with her."

"Well, I imagine that just goes with the territory of dealing with a reigning monarch. And she has a better reason than most royalty to be standoffish," Duffin allowed.

"Eh, she doesn't have her sister's freewheeling manner, but she certainly doesn't demand to be placed on a pedestal," Nilsson maintained. "She just doesn't like thinly veiled accusations and overly presumptuous prying. I mean, who does? The Queen might not be very good at delivering a joke, but she appreciates wit and humor. You'll understand better when you see the magic show. She probably still isn't above some of the lowbrow clowning that she did when she was a child. Have you ever traced on a fogged mirror or windowpane? Let's just say that I saw evidence that Her Majesty used frost to embellish her reflection in one of the mirrors in the main hallway. At what would have been the level of her head's height, someone had drawn glasses, a rather scraggly beard, and donkey ears."

"Donkey ears?" Duffin snorted.

"Or maybe they were rabbit ears. She wasn't quite eight years old," Nilsson said with a smile. "I probably would have opted for devil's horns myself, but then I wasn't raised a princess." She sipped her cocoa very daintily, theatrically raising her little finger as she brought the mug to her lips.

"Did anyone else notice?" Duffin asked.

"I don't think so. Mistress Gerda dabbed it off as soon as we saw it," Nilsson recollected. "We both knew it was a close call, even if we did laugh."

"And the last one?" Duffin drained her mug.

"The mess in the ball room that immediately lead to shutting the gates," Nilsson said somberly.

"How bad was it?" Duffin asked, matching the Arendellian's serious mood.

"Snow drifts around the room's perimeter. Mounds of snow everywhere. Smooth ice covering the floor. Frost up all the walls, columns, draperies, and even on the ceiling. And the stuff was melting. It was a race against time to avert a flood and save the woodwork, not mention keep inquiring minds from wondering where all the water came from, so Master Kai summoned the few of us who knew the secret to shovel, chip, scrape, haul, mop, and blot. Fortunately, we could dump it all in the fjord without being seen. Part of me was proud of her for surpassing all of her predecessors in the mischief-making stakes; another part of me was extremely irate at getting dragged out of bed to perform manual labor. We worked throughout the night and into the early morning, while the rest of the staff received an unscheduled half-day holiday - before most of them got severance pay and letters of recommendation or reassigned to positions outside of the castle."

"Any ideas about what brought it on?" Duffin wondered.

"You would have to ask Queen Elsa, but she hasn't spoken about it openly, so don't expect an answer," Nilsson said flatly. "It was probably just inevitable. Even the best-behaved children have at least one bout of bad judgment, or an instance of simple ignorance or curiosity that goes awry. She might have been experimenting, because there was a series of snow piles that was getting either progressively taller or shorter."

"Testing out her control got out of control, perhaps?" Duffin conjectured.

"And then papa and mama caught her in the act, and forbade any use of magic that could cause catastrophic property damage - or accidentally reveal her powers to the wider world," Nilsson speculated. "It's a plausible scenario."

"And somehow it escalated into voluntary isolation," Duffin concluded. "Or punitive confinement."

"As I said, Queen Elsa has never openly spoken about it. I honestly don't know the whole story," Nilsson countered, and polished off her drink.

"But you knew that somebody slipped cookies under her door. Was somebody doing that out of friendship, or out of necessity?" Duffin angled.

"Princess Anna would do it to try to persuade her to come out. Some of the staff did it because often there was no other way for her to have a cookie that was still warm from the oven. Although I'm not sure if 'warm from the oven' means anything to Her Majesty," Nilsson said.

"So none of the adults, even the ones that knew about the magic, had any reservations about Queen Elsa's reclusiveness? The only major concern was that she wasn't getting fresh-baked cookies?" Duffin asked with a raised brow.

"You must remember that we're not talking about a step-daughter forced to clean hearths or a kidnapped child locked in a tower with only three books and a little bit of paint and a few brushes. She was an extremely well-off crown princess who was being groomed to govern, not to be a socialite," Nilsson huffed. "Keeping a small country with a short growing season independent and prospering is harder than you might think. She was being properly and thoroughly trained to take the reins, to make decisions that would affect the whole country and shape our future, so who was going to question the King about why the heir kept mostly to herself?"

"I didn't mean to imply that you or the other employees should have confronted the King," Duffin said placatingly. "I just wondered if ... there was any reason to think the situation being handled ... unfairly."

"Another word of warning: Do not suggest to Her Majesty that she was mistreated," Nilsson advised. "The insinuation has been made before, and it has not been warmly received, figuratively or literally."

"Duly noted. It's just that given the cultural ambivalence about magic, the unknown, and the abnormal, some parents might have used ... dubious techniques to get their child to comply and conform," Duffin explained.

"As I said, King Agnarr of Arendelle was not that type of ruler, and Her Majesty understood and embraced her royal station very early on. The world was lucky. I don't want to imagine what disasters I would have caused if I had been born with magical powers, and how my parents would have reacted. If they didn't kill me outright, I doubt I would have been very obedient about restraining my powers and keeping myself segregated from everybody else, either," Nilsson admitted.

"I was going to ask if anyone else finds Her Majesty's virtue even more extraordinary than her magic," Duffin ventured. "Most humans would yield to the various temptations. Even the temptation to set things 'right.' "

"It's the main reason why the vast majority of the people didn't say 'yea' when she offered to abdicate and go dwell even deeper in mountains. Princess Anna reminded everyone that her sister had fully intended to live out the rest of her life in isolation, in order to keep all of us safe from her magic. Either as a hermit-queen in the castle, if she had kept her powers hidden; or as an elusive loner above the snow line, once she outed herself. That kind of devotion -maybe it's not such a stretch to call it true love- doesn't happen every day," Nilsson mulled. She rose from the chair and took Duffin's empty mug.

"It's clear that Queen Elsa is a force of good," Duffin agreed, checking the clock and seeing that it would be courteous to bid her host a good night.

"Both of the girls are," Nilsson noted as she walked to the sink and washed the cups. "Her Highness may be a bit rough around the edges and rash, but she means well. We've been blessed with a royal family that's our true national treasure."

"It must be nice to have leadership that you can really get behind," Duffin said with a trace of envy. "Even when they kick each other under the table at dinner." She stood up and stretched her legs, examining the blanket, yarn, and crochet hooks in the process.

"I realize how amateur Arendelle's royalty must seem, since you Western Islanders are used to grander coups de main and juicier scandals," Nilsson ribbed.

"In contrast, our high-and-mighty wouldn't show the initiative to develop an excellent recipe for hot cocoa and then share it with everyone, so I think you all come out ahead," Duffin acknowledged. "Arendelle certainly has a culture of generosity and helpfulness. Thank you so much for your time tonight. I am deeply indebted to you."

"Oh, please don't make this out to be a big deal," Duffin deflected. "Sometimes an old maid enjoys listening to herself talk."

"Well, perhaps we can chat again," Duffin said. "I originally planned to stay in Arendelle for a month, but I can already tell that I'll be here for at least the whole winter. Even if we somehow exhaust the scope of the Snow Queen's powers -which I sincerely doubt- this would be a fine place to work on my manuscript." She gathered the magical souvenirs from dinner.

"If the tourists find out who you are, you're liable to get swamped with autograph requests," Nilsson laughed.

"Then I'll try to keep a low profile, unless I need to bump up book sales," Duffin rejoined with a smile as she walked to the door. "Thank you again. You've given me some good points to consider. With luck, the interview will go a little more smoothly than dinner and the reception."

"You'll do fine, dear," Nilsson encouraged and held the door open for her visitor. "And the Queen is used to things going awry. I'm sure tonight's dramatics were nothing more than a minor nuisance for her. Except missing out on the chocolate cake. That was probably a nasty shock to her system. If Princess Anna has any sense in her head, she'll be bringing her big sister hot cocoa by the bucketful for at least a week."

"Good night, Minister Nilsson," Duffin said with genuine warmth and stepped out into the cloudy night.

"Good night, Miss Duffin," the Arendellian said with sincere friendliness, and waved as the historian walked off toward the main part of town. She stood on her threshold and looked up at the flickering stars and ragged clouds. "If both of those girls have any sense in their heads, they'll realize that a second chance to be sisters doesn't happen every day, either," she muttered to herself, and in the dim glow from the candelabrum, it was easy to fail to notice the tears in her eyes as she turned to go in.

Author's Notes - After sucessfully convincing my clients that just because I like my job, it doesn't mean that I want to work 12 hours a day, 7 days a week, I'm back! This is another chapter that had to be split into two volumes due to my egregious verbosity. I'll try to keep them shorter henceforth.

Lacerta vivipara is the older binomial name of Zootoca vivipara. We need a lot of choreographed chaos at the Harvest Festival Ball.

I tried to keep the characterization of pre-isolation Elsa in agreement with what we see in "Frozen" and the two shorts. Young Elsa's fondness for the people of Arendelle is apparent in the bell-ringing flashback in "Olaf's Frozen Adventure." It's almost like she can't wait to do stuff for them. Elsa's distaste for incarcerating people/things will be a major plot point.

True love not happening every day is a shout out to "The Princess Bride."