So.

Due to a weird flurry of activity relating to my real-life writing career where I try to put on the face of someone who knows what they're doing, this chapter is making a very, VERY late appearance. I hope you'll forgive me.

The chapter following this one will be mad indeed.

Thank you, as always, for your comments and readership (See? That sounds like something a real author would say, right? RIGHT?).

Lots of love,

ssg.x.

CHAPTER 32
GLASS HARP

"Queen Elsa?"

"Hm?" Elsa grunted from beneath the pages of an open book.

"My lady?"

The book fell in her lap as she sat up. Gerda had brought her breakfast in on a cart this morning. Usually Elsa preferred eating breakfast downstairs with Anna before the palace's open house, but by now the entire staff had probably been informed that the queen was going to be resting up before tonight's big event.

Gerda had somehow managed to read her mind, so here she was at Elsa's bedside, pouring tea and removing the lids from plate after plate of food. She'd thought for sure she wouldn't have the appetite for breakfast, but she'd skipped dinner and she was angry.

Really, really angry.

"Good morning, my lady," Gerda said cheerily, lifting the tray from the cart and carefully placing it on her lap. Elsa tried to give the woman a smile, but she could taste its phoniness on her tongue. She needed something with jam on it.

Lots and lots of jam.

Gerda reached for the book Elsa had fallen asleep reading. Elsa's eyes widened.

"Wait, Gerda –"

"The Bride of Lammermoor."

Elsa winced, embarrassed. Ugh. Why couldn't it have been something work-related? The book had been another late-night attempt to take her mind off of her disastrous conversation with Hans a week ago.

Despite what he'd said about trying to escape, she hadn't heard a peep from or about him since that day. Had he been bluffing, or was he just waiting until he was sure she wouldn't be expecting him to break from his prison?

His prison…

Elsa gnawed at the corner of her mouth.

Gerda placed the book on Elsa's night table and gave her a knowing smile.

"I've read it," she said. "It's wonderful, isn't it? I couldn't stop turning the pages. I stayed up hours past my bedtime to finish it. I'm assuming it's in preparation for the performance this evening?"

Elsa blushed. "Yes. I should have started reading it ages ago. I've just been so preoccupied with…"

Gerda mercifully finished her sentence, smiling kindly. "Running a kingdom?"

"Yes," Elsa replied, mirroring her smile in appreciation.

"So the performance will be entirely in Italian?"

"Yes, but programs have been printed that include a synopsis of each of the three acts, so the audience won't be totally lost," Elsa explained.

As a gift from King Vittorio Emanuelle II to celebrate Elsa's coronation, an operatic troupe was putting on a performance that evening of a relatively new opera based on The Bride of Lammermoor called Lucia di Lammermoor for the people of Arendelle. It had been organized months ago, so Elsa had almost all but forgotten about it. Despite her doubts that she'd be able to enjoy herself, news was that the townspeople were very excited about the performance, and their keenness to experience something new was infectious. Such an event was usually reserved for royalty and dignitaries, so this would be a rare treat. It would also be only the second time Elsa attended an opera, the first being with her parents when she was a young child and Anna was just a baby. Elsa couldn't remember too much about that evening except that her parents seemed positively enraptured by what was happening on stage, and the voice of the female lead was like that of a siren.

A mermaid… little Elsa had whispered in awe, her eyes following the singer's long, black hair down the middle of her back.

When her mother tucked her in that night, she announced to her that she was going to be a singer when she grew up. Or a mermaid. Her mother had smiled and gently stroked her hair.

But then who will be queen? she had asked.

Why can't you keep doing it? Elsa replied, puzzled.

Her mother never ended up answering her question that night. Elsa was still far too young for that conversation.

"Princess Anna couldn't possibly be more thrilled about this evening. It's all she's been able to talk about," Gerda chuckled, slathering apricot jam on a slice of toast and handing it to Elsa. "Last night during dinner she outlined in the most minute detail exactly what she was going to wear, right down to the…"

Gerda's voice trailed off as Elsa looked away.

"I'm sorry, my lady. I didn't mean to – "

Elsa shook her head. "Don't apologize. I'm happy to hear Princess Anna is so excited."

Though I'm sure I would have been happier if I'd heard it firsthand.

Whose fault is it that you didn't?

It wasn't like she and Anna weren't talking to each other – things were more or less back to normal. Well, no. A little less than more. They could talk so long as the topic of conversation didn't drift too far in Elsa's direction. When that started to happen, Elsa slowly began to disengage. Her life, her every thought, had become so intertwined with Hans that she felt as though she had no life or thought to speak of apart from him.

It was frustratingly pathetic.

"Speaking of which," Gerda chirped, laying Elsa's robe across the foot of the bed. "Have you already decided on what to wear? Is there anything you'd like me to bring out for you?"

Elsa shook her head. "No, thank you. I might…I might make something myself for this evening."

Gerda smiled brightly and clapped her hands together. "Oh, goodness! That would be wonderful! It's been some time since you've made something special for yourself."

"It's a special occasion, after all," Elsa said quietly.

"It truly is, my lady," Gerda agreed, looking positively starry-eyed as she crossed the room to pull the curtains aside and let in the daylight. "A good opera is like falling in love for the first time."

That piqued Elsa's interest in spite of herself. She knew Gerda was just talking for the sake of talking, but the older woman was the closest thing she had to a mother now, and Elsa needed some motherly advice so desperately just then. It seemed that instances like this were the closest she would be able to get to that.

"Like falling in love?" Elsa said around a mouthful of toast and jam. "How so?"

Gerda turned to her, looking surprised to find Elsa eager to engage in conversation. It has been a while, Elsa thought guiltily.

"Well," Gerda began carefully, not having expected the request to elaborate. "When the curtains open, you find yourself wondering where you are, and why you're there. All your senses are heightened – everything is louder, heartbreak more harrowing, and drama direr." Gerda gazed dreamily out the massive window. "Love is illimitable and colours are brighter. You can't help but get caught up in it all. The spectacle, the characters you come to love or hate, the story - it all wraps around your heart the way he'll wrap around your heart. You aren't sure what the rules are in this strange new world you're in, so when someone says, I would die without you - when he says I would die without you, you can't know for sure that he won't. It scares you so much that you can't take your eyes off him. You can't take your heart from him."

Elsa watched her breathlessly. Yes, she thought. Yes.

Gerda smiled. "When it's over…" she said, her eyes softening, her voice trailing off, and all of it coming to an ambiguous end with a shrug of her shoulders. "You'll fall in love one day, my lady. When you do, we'll revisit this metaphor, and you can tell me what a silly old woman I am."

Elsa giggled nervously and brought her cup of tea to her lips for a sip, but found it was frozen through. She looked down and realized the entire breakfast tray and all of its contents were dusted with snow.

"Oh," she said stupidly.

"I'll call for another pot of tea," Gerda said.

"No, it's alright," Elsa replied, letting her help set the tray aside so she could climb out of bed. "It's a special day for Arendelle, and I want to ensure everyone has a marvellous time. Please allow me a little time to dress and send word to have the court ready and waiting for my arrival. I'll be down there shortly."

"Yes, my lady."

Once she was alone again, Elsa sat at her vanity and briskly ran a brush through her hair, spinning and pinning it up into a simple bun. Then, with her hands in her lap, she stared at her reflection, thinking again of what Gerda had said.

When he says, 'I would die without you', you believe it because you can't be sure what kind of a god, if any, rules this strange new world you're in, and you refuse to take such a chance with someone's life.

Her gaze hardened and she pressed her lips together.

I'm the ruler of this strange new world, and its prisoner, she thought. I'm Hades and Persephone. I could have set myself free, I could have woken up beside him every morning if I hadn't been such a coward. I could have had him, but I wouldn't let myself.

Elsa squeezed her eyes shut.

And now he hates me. I'm sure he hates me.

And Anna…

Anna, who is capable of such boundless, unconditional love…

Would she have forgiven her? Elsa had believed all this time that because Anna had forgiven her once before, she'd be all out of forgiveness for her now. But, no – that isn't how forgiveness works, is it? If Elsa could forgive Hans, then maybe there was a chance Anna might be able to forgive him, too, someday.

Wait…

Elsa gasped, opening her eyes.

In an astonished whisper, she asked herself, "Did I just…?"