Chapter Twenty-Three

In scarcely a day, Elsa had become one of the crew.

At first, she'd thought she would feel out of place among these people. After all, their royalty had turned up dead in Elsa's kingdom; some dissonance was bound to occur. But people nodded at her with a smile when they passed, even verbally greeting her on occasion. She'd had two men and one woman flirt with her already, something that made her smile and nearly laugh about. For a brief, shining moment, she thought that maybe she could fill the space left by Hans with one of these sailors, but their attempts to woo the queen fell short, no matter how much she wanted to jump into someone's arms. Maybe someday, when time had healed and she'd gotten rid of the killer, she'd be ready to forget about him.

Another substantial change in her life was her wardrobe. She wasn't sure when they'd plan to bathe her if she hadn't emerged above deck. But now that she was one of them, a few people helped her draw a bath in her own special cabin. Jørgen explained that he'd convinced the twins to room together and let her have Christian's space. She felt a little guilty for taking it at first, but the soft touch of the hammock she was to sleep in immediately washed it all away. Of course, Jørgen's instruction that she leave the gloves on even while washing didn't humor Elsa or the people who helped tend to her, but they'd managed through somehow, only getting them slightly wet.

It had felt so good to comb her hair again after a week of having it tangled and dirty. The costume that she'd had on for days was replaced by sturdy boots, coarse pants, a button down shirt and a vest that was just a little too big and had a stain on the left. She was sure that menace Ingvalda would've had a heart attack to see the former queen in some sort of pirate attire.

But Elsa grew to like the clothing and like the crew and especially like the ocean. She could spend hours standing at that rail with the wind pulling at her braid and breathing in the salt that seemed to be in everything out here.

One member of crew that she liked very much was first mate Silje, a tall Danish woman with confident eyes who held herself with the all the dignity of the royal court. She explained that her father had been captain of King Lewis' ship before he retired, and she'd always desired to follow his footsteps out to sea. She was curious to know all about Elsa; the snow queen had a bit of a reputation in the Southern Isles ever since the youngest prince had been accused of attempted murder.

Silje listened as Elsa hesitantly told certain points of her story. She wouldn't share the entire tale, of course, but even her selections made Silje's brow furrow.

"I still don't understand why you're so sure he's innocent," Silje said. "Everything points to him. And you still helped him escape."

Elsa hadn't shared about Hans' powers, or about what might have been defined as romance in the loosest of terms. Even with those details, she knew that her story made little sense.

"Well... he was very persuasive. I felt he was sincere, especially when his father turned up on my shore. His pain seemed very real. I lost my parents just a few years ago. That kind of thing just breaks you."

Silje's lips were tight as she glared out to sea. "You don't think he knew that about you?"

"What?"

"Don't you think he might have known that you'd have sympathy? I heard he was a very convincing actor when he first infiltrated your kingdom. It seems likely to me that he knew you'd have sympathy on him. He had to act the right way to get your attention and gain his freedom."

"He... no, he wouldn't," Elsa said, but felt her heart squeezing into her throat again. She'd tried so hard to suppress doubt. She knew exactly how likely it was that everything was a manipulation and that she'd had a big, fiery veil pulled over her eyes. But she couldn't believe it now. That would mean that Kristoff and Anna were in grave danger.

She shook her head and breathed in that salt that made her feel alive. "No. I know he wasn't pretending."

Slije's eyebrows were raised, but she turned from the former queen and dropped the matter. Still, a sliver sharp as a knife had been cut into Elsa's mind. What if Hans was behind it all? Was it really so hard to believe that he'd employed two magicians to do his dirty work while he buttered up the queen?

She needed to think about anything other than that.

"Is... is Prince Jørgen worried?"

"About what?"

"If this killer has been striking brothers in birth order, that would make him next."

Silje bit her cheek. "He doesn't like to be afraid. He puts on a smile and laughs and makes people happy. But I know that he's terrified."

The first mate motioned for Elsa to walk with her. "He always has two guards on patrol when he's sleeping and three during the day. Captain Peter and I have discussed how he's always looking over his shoulder."

"Are you worried about him?"

Silje didn't give anything away with her expression. "We're only delaying the inevitable by being out at sea. I fear that once we're steady on land once again..." She shook her head. "Jørgen's fate has already been sealed."

Elsa didn't mention that being at sea wouldn't do anything to hinder the killer's ability if they were able to appear and disappear.

The former queen had tried multiple times to catch Anderson and pull him aside, but he always evaded her. She wanted to question him about his son, the child who could speak to animals. Whenever Elsa was in the same proximity, he found a way to be busy in the other direction. Dinner was no exception, as he turned around instantly at seeing Jørgen and Elsa eating at the mast again.

"Anderson seems scared of you," Jørgen jested, observing his brother who hustled back the direction he'd come.

"Strange," Elsa bluffed. She wouldn't tell Jørgen about his brother's secret life; she'd promised.

"I imagine he's simply afraid of this killer. Your presence makes the whole situation more real."

"Are you afraid?"

He shrugged, a smile across his lips but something deeper that wasn't voiced. "Nah. I'm not scared of 'em. Anyone Hans hired would be an easy opponent to beat."

So they were back to square one, Elsa thought. Back to Hans being the killer.

Jørgen saw right through her. He knew exactly that Elsa was protesting his claim in her mind. But he wouldn't be the first one to mention it.

So in silence, despite the song of the the sea and the laughter of the crew, their bread and their beans were eaten until Christian came to greet them.

"You haven't seen Anderson, have you?"

Jørgen smiled. "Not if he has any say about it. We think he may be scared by Miss Elsa."

The youngest brother shook his head and smiled, his bottom teeth just slightly crooked. "Ah, that Andy. He's always been a bit of a fool around women, you know. Gets all sweaty and can't talk right. My mother said he'd end up just like his father, more submissive than his wife should like."

Elsa smiled uncomfortably while the brothers laughed at their little joke.

"What did you need him for?" Jørgen asked.

"Nothing, really. Peter said to just let everyone know we should be back home in three days at most. Y'know I'm glad you finally came out of that hole, Miss Elsa, or I would've steered the ship back myself."

"We struck gold with her," Jørgen prided like she was some kind of artifact he'd dug up. "Someone bitter enough to spill all his secrets."

"I'm sorry?" Elsa asked, hands tight in her gloves. "I'm not aware of any secrets that have been spilled."

"Well, I mean you're leading us back to the Isles," Christian said with a shrug. "That's a confession to me."

"A confession...? I didn't confess anything."

Jørgen wasn't smiling anymore. "You've really convinced yourself our brother isn't the killer."

Elsa opened her mouth, but she didn't say anything.

"You know it," he said quietly. "Deep down, you know it has to be him. There's no other explanation."

"I was... I was with him," she said. "He was in the dungeon. He can't... it wasn't..."

"Hired work," Christian mumbled. "I'd put money on a couple of assassins that he's paid a pretty penny for."

Like this scenario hadn't flitted through her mind a thousand times. Like she'd not been crippled by all this doubt. And now it was creeping and creeping and she wasn't sure if it would be long until the memories she had of that man in the cellars of the castle were sent into a quarantined part of her mind.

"You told us to go back to the Southern Isles," Jørgen brought her back to reality and the ship.

"That doesn't prove anything."

"You said it yourself. What better place for him to go than an empty throne?"

She had said that. Elsa couldn't breathe.

"Miss Elsa? Do you want me to take your plate?" Christian offered quietly.

She couldn't breathe.

Elsa nodded, holding it out with a shaking arm. Elsa immediately turned and walked to the wooden railing on the side of the ship and grasped it tight. She stared down into the wild black waves and felt like she'd bring her meal back up into the sea and she couldn't breathe.

All this time... after everything she'd done. After everything that had happened and all the time she'd dedicated to that stupid man. He was the killer, there was no reasonable explanation besides it. He lied to her face and to her hands and to her heart.

She closed her eyes tight and took in a deep, deep breath. The deepest she'd ever taken.

Elsa had gone through a period of tight silence with her sister for him. Elsa had had a crisis and wore the gloves because of him. She'd gotten her first kiss from him, she'd felt a connection with someone in a way she could never explain and it was with him. Elsa had lost her crown because of him. Elsa was on this boat sailing to the Southern Isles as a kind-of prisoner and her sister- the only family she had left- was stuck on a separate ship so far away from her and it was all because of him.

"Miss Elsa?"

Jørgen sounded ten thousand miles away. Her head was reeling, and she didn't open her eyes or she'd fall off the ship. She just held the side tight and listened to the wind and the water.

But then there was a hand on her shoulder and her eyes opened. And Jørgen was there, his face dressed in nothing but concern.

"Miss Elsa, are you okay?"

She stared at the brother of the man whose face was suddenly hard to remember. "He... he told me that you brothers were terrible. That you were abusive and he'd rather die than go back."

"In Hans' defense, we were terrible to him for his... his condition," Jørgen confessed.

Elsa shook her head. "Still. He made you all out to be devils. And he so cleverly hid his own horns."

"I... I don't know what to say that will help you," Jørgen muttered. "Just that... we'll be bringing him to justice. We'll find this man. We'll stop this chain of death before it can go an inch further."

The former queen nodded slightly, like her head was tugged on a limp, breaking puppet string. She knew he had to be guilty, and yet she still couldn't fully commit to the idea. She just couldn't.

"I think maybe it's time for bed," Jørgen suggested, and she nodded once more, led like a rag doll away to her quarters, where she said goodnight to Jørgen and numbly changed into sleeping clothes. She stared at the ceiling for a long time, listening to passing sailors outside and never quite being able to believe that Hans had really done so many terrible things.

And right before she fluttered into sleep, she briefly thought about Bhumi, the princess who could give and take the life of a tree outside his window. The princess who he'd made cry because he related all too well to her. And now he'd toppled her from her throne, perhaps because he related all too well.

Two days later, just before noon, they spotted the Southern Isles.

Elsa was still numb from her revelation a few days before. And she still hadn't caught Anderson alone.

But now something in her heart pounded. They were finally here at the Southern Isles. Finally here at the empty throne. And maybe, just maybe, she could prove to herself and the brothers that Hans wasn't there. Maybe Hans wasn't the man behind the killers after all.

That's why Elsa was the first person to be at the front of the boat, staring out at the Isles as small blurs began to focus. That hazy mass was a castle, and those spots were the ships bobbing at their dock. Gulls were flying overhead again and the sky was a lighter shade of gray. Everything was bright. But Elsa wouldn't be satisfied until she saw with her own eyes that the ship she lent Hans was not docked at the Southern Isles castle.

And Elsa's knees nearly buckled from under her when she saw crystal clear the green and purple flag dancing in the wind atop the mast of a familiar looking ship. The flag of Arendelle was docked in the harbor, and with that, every claim she had to Hans' innocence was gone.

Hans was here. He was on the Southern Isles, and he had come to take the empty throne.

Shorter chapter, but I'll tell you right now that next is really a doozy, I promise.

Also, for the sake of anyone who is absolutely itching with the historical inaccuracy of women serving in positions so high as first mate, then kindly get over it.

Forever my thanks to all of you; I would never have gotten so far without all your enthusiastic comments!