Hans opened his eyes, better rested that he had been in weeks- years, debatably. It was her- the snow witch, that did this to him.
He felt alive, and warm, and loved. Sure, she really hated his guts, and found him an oppressive, opportunistic a-hole, but underneath all of that... she was capable of showing him kindness and compassion. And that was exactly what he wanted from her.
Elsa found herself working all day and into the night. Hans made sure she was as busy as he was. Although he was not above sexually harassing her on the job, he recognized the role she fulfilled; the ex-queen was smart, efficient, and level-headed. Not very good with the staff, but no one gave her that much trouble. Except for Illyana.
And did Hans hate her!
She used to serve Baragor. As in... 'serve' you know? Of the many Westerguard traditions, this one was pretty tricky to excuse.
Sure... a young prince could have a nice little maid to cook and clean for him, but what happened to her when he got married and became king or something else politically important? Therefore, it was essential that all servant-girls have a proper understanding of their position, and the exact definition of the word 'discretion'.
Since Baragor had fled without her, Ilyana had been somewhat... furious. Her position as head mistress to the mighty Protector was gone. Her authority had been stripped from her, and those that she used to boss around were now...
"Admiral Hans," Bowed the servant girl, "I was hoping for a moment of your time. It has to do with your new... assistant."
The prince snickered, "Well, you have my ears."
"I was hoping for a more prominent part of your anatomy," She smirked.
"What do you want?" He snarled. It was unfair of him to judge her so harshly, but being his brother's bed-mate won her no favors.
All pretense gone, Ilyana grew fierce, "Do you really think you can take a queen and turn her into your personal mistress?"
Hans' face lost all sense of amusement as well, "I can do whatever I want to whomever I want. And what Elsa, or whoever that is, does or does not do in my bed, is none of your concern, servant!"
Her eyes narrowed, "I am much more experienced than some... inhospitable icy maid!"
Hans' backhand was a flash. Ilyana hit the ground- hard, "Listen here, and listen good. I have enough problems dealing with Baragor's habits. If I hear even a single word from you on this subject again, I will personally ship you to him. And then you can see how hospitable he will be."
She glared up at him, sensing the battle was at a loss, "What can she do for you now? She's powerless."
"Yes," He said with surprising gentleness, "exactly."
Maybe it was finally getting a full night's sleep for the first time in ten years, or perhaps it was the thought that Ilyana believed he and Elsa could be a thing, but suddenly Hans felt a surge of hope. And, like all emotions, it was a weakness the Westerguard would not indulge for long.