Elsa was at a loss, trying not to bump or be bumped by the milling party guests and family, when Thorsen and Klara came up to her. "Your Majesty," said Klara, and bobbed her head. "Are you doing all right?"

"Certainly," said Elsa with a reassuring smile.

"You seemed a little – I mean Your Majesty looked a little uncomfortable. Can we get you anything?"

"Please, just call me 'Elsa'. I've been having a hard enough time getting Ingrid to call me that."

"I could have a word with her," said Thorsen.

"No, please no," said Elsa, raising a hand. She looked around. "And there is one thing you could get me. A place to sit down."

"No problem," said Thorsen, putting his hand on the back of the nearest kitchen chair and addressing the ten-year-old seated there. "You there. Hans Peter."

"Hans Frederick, grandpa."

"Hans Frederick. Get up and give the lady your seat."

Moaning at the injustice, Hans Frederick surrendered his chair. "How soon 'til dinner's ready? I'm starving."

"Dinner's ready when it's ready," said Klara. "You know that."

"Can't I have something?"

"You can have a slap on the tongue," said Thorsen. "Now go help your sister watch the little ones." Still put-upon, but secretly flattered that he wasn't counted as one of the "little ones", Hans Frederick slouched away. "Please have a seat, Elsa."

"Thank you." Elsa sat on the wooden chair with relief.

"Since you're here," said Thorsen, "I'd like to, that is we'd like to, Klara and I, we'd like to thank you for everything you've done for Ingrid."

"My pleasure. She's a faithful servant and a hard worker."

"Not just giving her a job," said Klara. "When we lost Anders, Ingrid was in a bad way. We all missed him, of course."

"God rest his soul," interjected Thorsen.

"God rest his soul. But Ingrid took it hard. She's always been a quiet one, of course, but still. We all worried about her," said Klara. Thorsen nodded solemnly. "She doesn't make friends easily. Since she's come to work for you she's doing a lot better. Thank you for looking out for her."

"Yes, thank you," added Thorsen.

"Oh, she looks out for me more than I look out for her," said Elsa. Thorsen and Klara shared a nod. "You…do believe I'm queen, right?"

"Some of the children have had their doubts. I'm sorry," said Klara.

"I told them to keep their traps shut, but do they listen? No, of course not." Thorsen shrugged. "Kids," he said to Elsa with sympathy, referring to sons and daughters who were all older than she was.

"I'll be honest," said Klara, "when Ingrid sent us that letter about the herring tariffs and how we could get in on the ground floor of the fish-canning business, we had our doubts."

"Klara talked us into it," said Thorsen.

"I did not, and you know it, Papa. I just read the letter to you." Klara turned back to Elsa. "He said to me, 'If she's full of it and we go along with it, we could lose a lot of money. But if she's right and we do nothing, I could never look at her again. And we already don't have any money, so what have we got to lose?' "

"I may have said that," conceded Thorsen. "But Ingrid was right, and she's my baby daughter, so if she says you're the queen then as far as I'm concerned it's good enough for me." He looked sideways at the crowd, picking out Ernst. "And it should be good enough for her brothers and sisters."

"Now, Thorsen, if Queen Elsa's not bothered, then you leave it be," said Klara. "Now I have to get back to the stove, but if there's anything we can get you, you just let us know."

"Thank you, but nothing for now. I am looking forward to dinner. It smells lovely."

"Thank you!" said Klara, with a proud smile, as she and her husband dived back into the fray.


A smiling woman with hair the colour of unvarnished pine approached Elsa and curtseyed. "Good evening, Your Majesty. My name's Katja."

"Elsa. Pleasure to meet you."

"Pleasure to meet you." She squatted down to talk to Elsa, steadying herself with a hand on the back of Elsa's chair. Lowering her voice, she said, "I simply have to congratulate you on the job you're doing. You haven't broken character once."

Elsa straightened, leaning slightly away from the hand on her chair. "I'm sure I don't know what you mean."

"It's all right, you can step out of character. I'm an actress, too. Not professional, of course. I must say that anyone meeting you would believe you really were the queen."

Elsa half-smiled. "If they didn't, treaty negotiations would be a lot more difficult."

Katja laughed. "You are so good. Which brings me to my point. I'm with the Little Theatre of Lillefjord. Well, I say Lillefjord, but we have people from all over, from here to the capital. Which is my point. We're adapting Her Mother's Daughter – have you read it? – adapting it for the stage, and you would be perfect for Mrs. Hummel. We have some good people, but no one's really the 'upper-class matriarch' type. We'd have to age you up a bit, but I'm sure you'd do fine." She leaned in, and dropped her voice lower. "And frankly, with your discipline, I think you and I could teach the rest of them a thing or two, eh?"

Elsa gave her a bland, polite smile. "I'm flattered, but I'm afraid my duties at the castle keep me far too busy."

"If it's any help, you could get a lift from the capital with my husband Gunner. He works in town."

"No. Thank you."

"Well, if you change your mind, just tell Ingrid and she can put it in her next letter to her folks." Katja stood up, and paused just before she walked away. "You are so good," she said, shook her head, and walked away.

Elsa pondered why it bothered her that almost no one was treating her as the queen. The whole idea was to get away from the formality of court life for a day, and she was succeeding beyond her expectations. So where's the problem?


Elsa idly scanned the room, and saw that in the far corner Anna was on the floor, surrounded by nearly a dozen of the Andersen children. Elsa couldn't hear what she was saying, but she could see that Anna was making up a story using two dolls, a toy soldier, and a Dala horse. The children were fascinated, and Anna was glowing. Elsa felt a beautiful ache in her chest, like the one she often held for her sister, but sweeter. She's so happy. She's so good with children. She would be a wonderful mother, much better than I ever could. She deserves to have that. And I could never give that to her. She sighed. Just one more thing Kristoff can give her that I never could.

She silently watched Anna until, with a start, Elsa realized that one of the children, a boy of about six, was now less than three feet away. He stared at her with the unnerving directness of a small child.

"Yes?" she asked, mildly.

"You're mean," he said with conviction.

Elsa blinked. "Am I?" He nodded. "How so?"

Understanding the tone of the question if not the phrasing, he said, "You're gonna take me away and throw me in prison."

"Really?" Elsa leaned forward, resting her chin in her hand. "And why would I do that?"

"Mama says if I'm bad you're gonna send your guards to take me away and lock me in prison, and it's cold and dark and you'll never let me go out again." He balled his little fists. "You're mean," he added for emphasis.

Elsa closed her eyes for a moment, because rolling them would set a bad example. The boy's mother, not up to disciplining him by herself, was using Elsa as a bogeyman. Her first impulse was to find this mother and have a word with her about child-rearing. But that would make an uncomfortable party a little more uncomfortable.

Her second impulse was to tell the boy that she would never lock him up in prison. But as much as she was annoyed at being used like that, suddenly removing a thing that was keeping this child well-behaved would end badly. Not to mention that it was a promise that she wouldn't want to be held to once the boy was old enough to get into real trouble.

She saw that the boy's lower lip was starting to quiver. As much as he was standing up to her, he was scared. And he didn't deserve to be scared, especially of her. "Please, it's okay, um…what's your name?"

"Kennet."

"Very well. Now, Kennet, have you ever done anything bad before?" He started to vibrate with nervousness. "It's okay, Kennet. You can tell me."

Her gentle voice began to work its magic on him. "…myeah," he murmured.

"And I haven't thrown you in prison so far, have I?"

"…nnno."

"Then why would I start now?"

"…mmdunno." Her argument still hadn't convinced him.

"Now Kennet. I'm not saying I would lock you up for being bad, but if I did – if – I would certainly not lock you up forever. Not for just being bad. And I absolutely wouldn't lock up a little boy in someplace cold and dark, would I? Do you think I would do something like that to a good little boy like you?"

He gave her a long, appraising look. "D'you promise?"

"Absolutely," said Elsa, crossing her heart. He remained uncertain. "All right. Now, Kennet, do you think you could find me some paper and something to write with?" He nodded. "Okay. Then bring them to me."

She pulled her chair to the table and moved aside a place setting so she'd have room to work. He came back with a pen and an old invoice that was blank on the back. She worked on the paper, consulting with Kennet as she did. In a few minutes the document was complete. It read:


The bearer of this document, being less than thirteen years of age, on the condition of being imprisoned for being bad is entitled to the following considerations from Her Majesty's Prisons.

To be held for a period of no more than 48 hours, no more than once per calendar month.

To a prison cell that is well-lit in daytime, reasonably spacious, and of a comfortable temperature.

To three meals per day, served at usual mealtimes, one of which may include dessert at Her Majesty's pleasure and on condition that all served vegetables are eaten.

To bring one toy and one picture book for the bearer's unrestricted use, outside of meal and bath times. For the purposes of this document a toy soldier and its rifle are considered a single toy.

To one visit of no less than half an hour from a parent, or a parent's representative, not counting time spent being dropped off or picked up.

To be read one bedtime story per evening of not less than three pages, on condition that the bearer remains in bed after the story is completed and until the following morning, barring urgent lavatorial needs.

To be spoken to gently and not yelled at for the duration of the bearer's stay.

Her Majesty reserves the right to refuse anyone who in her judgement has not been sufficiently bad.

Signed this day by Her Righteous Majesty Queen Elsa.


"There." She looked up. "Now, fetch me that candle. The red one."

"Mama says I'm not supposed to play with candles."

"And she's quite right. So don't play with it while you bring it over here."

By the time he had carefully walked it to her, Elsa had conjured a royal seal out of ice. "Thank you." She dribbled some wax on the document and pressed the seal into it.

"Wow," said Kennet, eyes wide. "You made that with your magic. Do it again!"

Elsa sat up, looking down her nose at him. "I beg your pardon?"

"Do it again…please?"

Elsa sighed. "Kennet. Do your parents ever make you do things at parties, to show you off in front of guests?"

"Yeah, they make me recite a poem I learned. It goes – "

"Never mind that. Do you like doing that?"

"No. It feels…I don't know. I don't like it."

"Well, that's how I feel when people ask me to do magic for them. I like to do it when I want to, but not when people tell me to." She leaned in and whispered, "And since I'm the queen, I can just say no, and they can't do anything about it."

"Wow." He was more impressed by that than by ice magic.

She folded the document and prepared to hand it to him. "Now, you understand that you have to share this with your brothers and sisters."

Nod.

"And you only get one copy."

Nod.

"If one of you gets in trouble, the rest of you have to be extra good 'til they get back, because you only have one, right?"

Nod.

"Okay." She held it out to him. "The smart thing would be to practice being extra good, just in case that happens."

"Yeah," he said, nodded, and ran off to show his siblings what the queen gave him.

Anna had been watching Elsa as she and Kennet had been working on their project together. Elsa looks so happy. She is so good with that little boy. I wish I could be that good at getting kids to behave. I just know she'd make a wonderful mother. And she really deserves to have that. She sighed. With the way she feels about…me, and stuff…I wonder if she'll ever get the chance? I hope so.