The lowly trade schooner went almost unnoticed as it sailed among the grand barques and clipper ships in the Arendelle harbor. With its grimy sails and flaking paint, the humble vessel traveled from port to port carrying mundane cargo. It was mere coincidence that its schedule brought it to Arendelle during the wedding celebrations. However, that coincidence had brought the ship some additional income in the form of a rare passenger.

The passenger was a man in his mid-20s, thin and not particularly tall, but with a sturdy build. He wore the clothes of a traveling merchant, in this case a navy blue suit, but his brown hair had been tousled by the ocean breeze, leaving him looking somewhat disheveled. He had been very secretive about where he had originally come from and why he was traveling to Arendelle. This had made the ship's captain slightly suspicious, as a simple merchant would have no need for such secrecy, but the passenger had paid a fair price for his trip, so the captain had decided it was best to simply mind his own business.

As the crew finished tying up the ship, the mysterious passenger walked down the gangplank onto the dock. It had been a long journey, of which the voyage on the schooner was merely the final leg. Though he didn't mind sea travel, he was glad to finally be able to go beyond the confining decks of the small vessel. He took a deep breath of the fresh air and looked around at the colorful wooden buildings that lined the waterfront.

"Sir Lars," came the voice of the schooner's captain from the deck. "Where do you want your things sent?"

"I don't know yet," the passenger replied. "I haven't arranged for a place to stay."

"I can't just wait around here until you do," the captain said.

Lars produced a gold coin from his pocket and held it up for the captain to see.

"Unload it last," Lars said. "If I'm not back in an hour, just leave it on the dock."

Lars tossed the coin up to the captain and then continued on his way up the dock. The captain examined the coin. It was an old Coronan mark, which struck the captain as odd as he had already deduced that his passenger was not from Corona. He bit the gold coin to confirm it was real and then shrugged as he pocketed the coin and moved on to his other responsibilities.

As he walked along the dock, Lars looked around and took in view of the cliffs of the fjord and the majestic mountains beyond that towered over the city. Arendelle certainly was a beautiful land, he mused. As he approached the end of the dock, Lars spotted the dockmaster and headed toward him.

"Welcome to Arendelle," the dockmaster said.

"Thank you," Lars replied with a friendly tone. "Could you please recommend a place to get a room for the night?"

"If you don't already have something arranged, it may be difficult," the dockmaster replied. "You might try the boarding houses on the edge of town."

"That's very helpful, thank you," Lars said.

"Are you here for the wedding festivities?" the dockmaster inquired.

"In a manner of speaking," Lars replied.

"Well, enjoy your stay," said the dockmaster.

"I hope to," Lars said, and continued on his way.

Lars soon found himself in the town square, among the pushcarts and the small shops that were selling flowers and clothing and royal wedding souvenirs of all kinds. The small square was crowded, with the local townspeople and tourists alike bustling about before the wedding began. Lars paused for a moment near the center of the square to get his bearings.

Lars had been to Arendelle before. His father was a traveling merchant who often did business in Arendelle. When Lars was a young boy, his father let him come along on some of his journeys, and during one of them they traveled to Arendelle. The town square had seemed so much larger and the buildings so much taller to the small boy that Lars had been then. To the man Lars had become, the reality of the town square now seemed quaint in comparison to his childhood memories. Lars realized, though, that for the most part Arendelle had actually changed very little. It was he who had changed.

In the distance, Lars saw the castle with its gates standing open. The castle was just as grand a sight as Lars remembered. The mountains and fjords hadn't made much of an impression on Lars as a boy, but the castle had awed him. It had been everything the young Lars had imagined a castle could be. He had daydreamed about heroically charging the gates on his mighty steed to rescue a damsel who was imprisoned high in one of the towers, just like the knights in the stories he used to read. But that was nothing more than a child's fantasy. As an adult, Lars knew that real life was usually far more mundane, and that even in the unlikely event that an opportunity for action did arise, being a hero wasn't as straightforward as those old fairy tales made it seem.

Still, Lars found himself gazing longingly at the castle and its open gates. When Lars had visited Arendelle as a boy, the gates of the castle had been closed. He had wished that the gates would open, even just for a moment, so that he might get a glimpse of what was behind them, but they had remained shut tight. Now, the gates of the castle were open, and they were seemingly calling to him, beckoning him to come inside and finally see what secrets had been hidden behind the castle walls. Lars found the allure of the open gates difficult to resist. But for now, the castle would have to wait. After all, Lars hadn't come to Arendelle to satisfy his childhood curiosity. He was a man on a mission, and right now, that mission required that Lars focus on the more immediate concern of finding lodging. Lars took one last look at the castle, then set off in search of a boarding house.