Chapter 5: Many Meetings, Part 2
After the first half of Elsa's meetings with her councilors, the score (if one could call it that) stood at four in favor, two against. If one counted all of the advisors who had made their thoughts known at the initial meeting, it was six in favor, four against.
Elsa couldn't have more than three votes against.
But now, she thought, steeling herself for her next meeting, was not the time to worry. Councilor Omdahl was next.
Perhaps Elsa was laying it on a bit thick, having a steaming pot of tea (Count Silver) and neatly sliced lemons at the ready, both imported at no small expense. She had it on good authority that Count Silver was Councilor Omdahl's favorite. But at least she also had cover in that it was a relatively early morning meeting and Elsa herself liked that particular tea.
She had already poured and was sipping away when Master Moller announced the councilor. Perfect. Now she just had to avoid freezing it until Councilor Omdahl had a cup or two herself.
She didn't know why the older woman had that effect on her. Perhaps it was her bearing: poised, confident, with just a touch of knowingness that wasn't strictly polite but wasn't so overt as to be impolite, either. The confidence showed through in everything she did, from the fashionable gowns cut just this side of daring to the hair that was too brilliantly red to be wholly nature's gift and the sideways, smirking smile.
Lastly, there was the fact that Councilor Omdahl always got what she wanted, which was somewhat intimidating to someone who had only allowed herself to want things within the past two years.
Councilor Omdahl swept in, her bold cherry-colored dress making the rest of the room seem drab and faded. Elsa offered her a seat, which she took, and a cup of tea, which she also took, though not without a faint smile and a knowing look in her eye. Still, Elsa knew what a woman enjoying her tea looked like, and she was grateful for even this small victory.
However, after the tea had been sipped and perfunctory pleasantries exchanged, there was nothing to do but to get down to business. "So, Councilor," Elsa began, "you've had a few days to consider the proposal before the Council. What are your thoughts on Princess Anna's marriage?"
The Councilor leaned back, stirring her tea and looking thoughtful. "I think … the marriage is likely to cause scandal. And it severely curtails your own options," she replied.
"For instance," Councilor Omdahl brought her teacup to her lips, taking a slow and thoroughly appreciative sip, "you yourself will have to marry – and marry well – and it will have to be sooner rather than later."
Elsa took a deep breath. "That has already been pointed out to me. I …" She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "I understand that, and am willing to accept it."
She set her teacup down and put her hands on her lap.
"Are you now?" asked Councilor Omdahl, staring significantly at the space where Elsa's hands used to be. Under the cover of the desk, Elsa felt her hands began to wring together.
"You prefer the single life, don't you?" Councilor Omdahl asked. "I shouldn't blame you in you did. And I must say – having experienced both the married state and the single – I prefer the single state."
If Anna was sitting there, she might have asked – privately, later, Elsa hoped – why, if that was the case, Councilor Omdahl had been married four times. But she wasn't, so Elsa had to content herself with hearing Anna's voice impishly asking it in the confines of her own head.
"Especially given your … condition," Councilor Omdahl continued.
Elsa found herself holding her breath, her hands balling into fists.
"After all, if you marry, it will almost certainly have to be to a foreign power." Almost absently, Councilor Omdahl began to stir her tea. Elsa kept her eyes on the spoon, watched the weak winter light flashing off it as it made its slow circuit round and round the teacup. "And when it comes to certain things – well, men are all alike. Like little boys, really. Show them a shiny new toy, and instantly they start bashing their friends on the head with it."
She looked up, and belatedly Elsa looked up as well to meet her gaze. "That's how they would see you, you know. As a shiny toy."
Not all, Elsa thought to herself, not all, not all. There was one who wouldn't. Maybe he was fascinated by her powers, but he would never try to force her to use them as a weapon of war. He would never see Elsa as his ticket to continental power.
Oh, Frigg, what am I getting myself into?
Elsa gulped. "I am – I am quite aware of my … value, internationally speaking."
"And yet you're willing to put yourself on the open market?" Councilor Omdahl blinked. "Your Majesty, that is quite brave of you."
Brave? No, that was the last thing she was. Not when her insides were quivering while sharp shards of ice poked her from within. Elsa was not brave, she was …
She hadn't the least idea what she was. But she at least was certain that brave people were not meant to feel this much fear.
Fear will be your enemy, Elsa. Calm down.
It took a moment, a moment of relentless focus on the positive in her life, but eventually the spikes and shards of ice grew blunter, her insides stilled, and even her hands managed to relax.
"It is not a matter of bravery," Elsa forced herself to say. "While you say that I will have to marry well, the fact remains that I am a Queen Regnant and so have a certain degree of … control. I cannot be married off against my will, and I have no intentions of marrying a man who has any designs on using my powers for his or his country's gain – at least, not in a strictly military sense."
"And where do you intend to find such a man?" Councilor Omdahl asked.
"I am sure they are somewhere to be found. And—and in any case, there is nothing that says I must marry into a foreign power. If—if worst comes to worst, there are surely men of good family in Arendelle who will make an … appropriate match, if other avenues have been explored and found wanting."
Are there? Elsa wondered – but she wasn't going to think about that. No. Not when she still had an avenue left to explore. Whatever else she might have to fear from marriage, the idea of being used for her powers was not one of them. Not with Nick.
"Perhaps," was all Councilor Omdahl would reply. "But all the same, it's not what you want, is it? And I for one am not convinced that it would be what is good for Arendelle. To be quite blunt, Your Majesty, you have more than enough problems without having to worry about a husband's ambitions and constantly having to check them."
"… Perhaps," she admitted. "But I am hardly the first queen who has had to weather that particular storm. And even kings must deal with ambitious wives."
"True, true. But you could sidestep the whole thing," Councilor Omdahl went on, "if only Princess Anna were to marry sensibly."
Elsa blinked. "… Sensibly?"
"To a man who could be the father of the next King or Queen of Arendelle."
Now Elsa's hands clenched under the table. She forced herself to breathe, and breathe deeply, before answering. "There is nothing that is not sensible about Princess Anna marrying a man she loves."
"Your Majesty—"
"No. Whatever—whatever Lord Ismester's faults might be, at least ambition is not one of them. We have seen what happens when overly ambitious men try to get their—their hooks into Princess Anna. I won't allow it. I won't even consider it."
Councilor Omdahl tilted her head to one side. "You cannot protect her from everything. Certainly not the realities of her social position."
"I am quite aware of what I can and cannot protect my sister from, Councilor. Remember what we have been through." Elsa swallowed. "But I am reasonably certain that Lord Ismester and I combined can at least protect her from having a husband who has no regard for her, no kind feelings, only a desire to use her to further his own ends."
Elsa watched as Councilor Omdahl's face grew quite, quite still. Slowly, she put her teacup and saucer on the desk. "You would risk yourself being used so that she won't be."
"Indeed."
"That could be dangerous for Arendelle. Have you thought about that?"
"Not as dangerous as letting her be the cats-paw for a man—a man like Hans Westergaard." Elsa swallowed and breathed deep. Even nine months dead, the man still inspired a fear in her like none other. "There is very little I would not do to keep my sister safe – and I believe the entire world knows that at this point."
Councilor Omdahl's jaw fell, her stained red lips making a round O.
Elsa watched as the Councilor reached again for the teacup. She started stirring. Based on the way the spoon rattled against the china, Elsa could guess that there was practically no liquid left in the cup.
But this time it was Councilor Omdahl who would not meet her eyes. This time it was the Councilor whose brows were furrowed, thinking. This time it was someone else making the nervous gestures, the telltale expressions.
"You won't be dissuaded no matter what anyone says, will you?" asked Councilor Omdahl. "You'll find arguments until your face goes blue."
Elsa's only answer was to fold her hands on the desk again and raise one eyebrow.
"If that's the case … well, I withdraw any objections I had. This is not an issue I see fit to risk my career over."
"Thank you, Councilor," Elsa replied. "Your support is appreciated."
"But understand, Your Majesty," Councilor Omdahl went on, "the governor and the legislature in Sorgaland will not be happy with me. They are afraid that what Lord Ismester did with the ice harvesters … they're afraid it will spread. The last thing they want is for the laboring classes to get ideas. If I lend you my support on this, I will at some point have to call on your aid to appease my constituents."
Elsa nodded. "You will not find me forgetful. Or ungrateful. I am sure we will be able to come to some sensible arrangement."
"Excellent, Your Majesty," Councilor Omdahl replied. "I am sure we will."
Lady Sylvi was next. Somehow, when she came in, it seemed wholly natural for both women to stand by the window, spending a few moments in silence and watching the children – and Olaf – playing in the courtyard below.
"It's nice," Lady Sylvi remarked, "being able to hear the laughter of children without being able to make out what they're saying."
"At least they're not playing keep away with Olaf's head today," Elsa replied. "Or any other portion of his anatomy, for that matter."
Lady Sylvi chuckled. It was a low, comfortable sound, the sort that seemed designed to soothe ruffled feathers and add an element of ease and comfort to virtually any setting. Elsa wondered how she had learned it, and whether she was offering lessons.
"It was kind of you to open up the courtyard to children," Lady Sylvi went on. "I never have to worry about Young Sam when he's playing here."
Elsa could have said any number of things in reply to that. She could have answered that letting the children come to Olaf was probably a much better idea in the long run than letting Olaf have the run of the town and finding children whom he wanted to play with. She could have said that she, too, found the laughter of children soothing. She could have pointed out that children were her most popular demographic, and any politician would have to be stupid to discount her most popular demographic. She could have even said that she was trying to recapture a childhood she and Anna had missed.
Any one of those things would have been true. That was why Elsa didn't say them.
"It's a small thing," was all Elsa would reply. "But shall we sit, my lady?"
"If you wish," Lady Sylvi replied.
Somehow – Elsa was not quite sure how this happened – she found herself gravitating toward the sofa. She waved Lady Sylvi toward the chairs, and Lady Sylvi took the one opposite Elsa.
They sat in a silence that managed to be companionable. Then Lady Sylvi smiled and shook her head. "I wish I could be of more help to you and Princess Anna, Your Majesty. Unfortunately, my colleagues seem to be under the impression that because of my … personal stake in the matter, my opinions are somehow invalid."
Elsa allowed her eyebrows to faintly rise. "It seems they have things rather backward."
"So I say, but nobody seems to be listening to me." Lady Sylvi rolled her eyes. Elsa managed a small smile.
"Lady Sylvi …" Elsa started, then hesitated. "This question may be … rather personal … but …"
"Oh?" she asked.
"Was it—forgive me—was it difficult after you married Captain Vilmarsen? I mean socially," Elsa hurried to add, because she could just imagine all the ways being married to Captain Samuli Vilmarsen could be described as "difficult," and she was quite sure there were a few things she couldn't imagine.
"Ah. Do you mean, did I encounter a certain amount of ostracism after marrying a man who was not only a policeman, but the sort of policeman who forgot that he was supposed to knock at the servants' door and who made a point to never bother to wipe his dirty boots when he came inside?" Lady Sylvi asked, a chuckle in her throat and a sparkle in her eye.
"Er … yes," Elsa admitted.
Lady Sylvi nodded. "Then—to answer your question—yes and no. I received fewer invitations to parties that I never wanted to attend in the first place. I was rather pointedly snubbed by people I didn't particularly wish to talk to. However, when it came to the people whom I considered to be my friends, I didn't encounter many problems of that variety. But you know I might not be typical in that regard. I had a rather consuming hobby before I married, and the people whom I knew from that hobby … well …"
Elsa nodded, threading her fingers together and rubbing her hands. Lady Sylvi had years to form strong friendships. Until a year and a half ago, Anna had been trapped in this castle, cut off from the outside world.
The past is in the past, Elsa. Stop worrying about it.
"However, I will say that your parents did make things easier," Lady Sylvi went on.
Elsa looked up. "They—they did?"
"Indeed," Lady Sylvi replied. "You probably don't remember – you would have been quite young. About twelve, I think."
Elsa tried not to wince. Twelve had been when her powers, which until then had grown at a slow but steady pace, started strengthening rapidly every day. Never mind remembering, in order to have remembered, she would have had to have been paying attention in the first place.
"But your parents," Lady Sylvi went on, "especially your mother, were very … welcoming. Your mother was one of the first to call on me after Sam and I got back from our wedding trip. And she'd always find a pleasant word for me when we were at the same parties. It's a bit hard to snub someone," Lady Sylvi chuckled, "when the Queen is doing the exact opposite."
Elsa looked at her skirts with a bit of a smile. Of course her mother would have been accepting, welcoming. She'd had a warm heart and a sunny nature, and she'd never been one to stand for things that she thought were foolish.
Rather like Anna, really.
"Your parents also sent a lovely gift for Young Sam's naming," Lady Sylvi continued. "Two of them, actually. A silver tankard – the traditional sort of thing – and a darling little stuffed dragon. I think … your mother might have made the dragon herself?"
It was phrased as a question, and so deserved an answer. "I think—I think she might have," Elsa replied. "My mother loved to work on things with her hands – she made dolls for Anna and me when we were little. And … so many other things, over the years."
There was a pair of gloves she'd gotten for her sixteenth birthday. The gloves themselves had been constructed by a glover, but they had been decorated with delicately stitched rosemaling that had Queen Idun's signature all over it.
Elsa still had those gloves. She'd worn them only on special occasions, and after the Great Thaw, when Anna had spoken quite seriously of burning those "horrible things," or maybe freezing them, or perhaps throwing them into the fjord, Elsa had nodded along and made sure that those gloves were rolled up in a chemise, where Anna wouldn't think to look.
(In the end, they had settled for tossing Elsa's other gloves into the fjord.)
"She was a wonderful woman," Lady Sylvi murmured. "And I think she would have been quite happy to see how happy Princess Anna is with Lord Ismester."
Elsa gasped and looked up. "You—you think so?" Then she kicked herself. A Queen shouldn't sound that eager, that desperate for validation, especially not from one of her councilors whom she still barely knew.
"I do. Any parent would."
Elsa snorted. And somehow, even though she knew that this was hardly proper, she decided to say what she was thinking anyway. "I don't think my father would have been all that thrilled."
Lady Sylvi narrowed her eyes, thoughtful. "Perhaps not at first," she admitted. "But I think he would have warmed up to the idea."
Maybe, Elsa thought, but didn't really believe it.
"But you knew him better than I did," Lady Sylvi continued. "All the same – I for one certainly believe that you're doing the right thing. And I'll continue to try to convince my colleagues of it. Moller is a lost cause, but one of these days I'll get somewhere with Jorn."
Elsa glanced up, smiling. "I hope you do. And I thank you. Your—your support is very much appreciated. If there is ever anything I can do to make things easier for you – or for Letemark …"
"From what I'm given to understand, the boys at the station house can always use a new dartboard," Lady Sylvi chuckled, "but other than that, I can't think of anything. Anyway, one shouldn't charge a fee for following one's conscience."
How refreshing, Elsa thought as she and Lady Sylvi finished the meeting the desultory small talk.
If only everyone thought like that.
"Good morning, Your Majesty. I hope this day finds you well?"
"Good morning, Councilor Steensen. It certainly does, and I can only hope the same for you." Sitting up a little straighter in her desk chair, Elsa forced a careful, polite smile across her face. "Please, have a seat."
Councilor Steensen sat. He was already smiling, but the smile didn't reach his eyes, which were magnified by the owlish spectacles he wore. Strange, how easy Elsa found it to be to meet his eyes – probably because they were the easiest part of him to read. The rest of him moved like his body was a puppet controlled by strings, meant to paint a certain picture but never entirely succeeding.
"Well!" Elsa took a deep breath. "I'm sure you have a great deal to do today, Councilor, so I shan't beat around the bush. Have you given more thought to the question of Princess Anna's marriage?"
"I have," he replied. "I still do not think it would be best for the realm. However …"
Elsa watched as he began to tap on the armrest of his chair, faintly frowning.
"I think …" Councilor Steensen went on, "there is a long way between what's best for the realm and what is bad for the realm – and I am not at all convinced that this marriage would be bad for the realm."
"How wonderful it is to have your confidence," Elsa replied, trying not to make it sound sarcastic.
Councilor Steensen smiled, another smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Thank you. And all of that being said, I think that if certain … reforms were to accompany Princess Anna's marriage, it could be even be a good thing for the realm."
And here we go.
Elsa leaned back, hands neatly folded on the desk before her. She forced a smile. After all, she'd explicitly invited horse-trading, hadn't she? It was only a matter of time before someone took her up on it, and not just with vague requests for later favors.
Frankly, it was a surprise it had taken this long.
"And what were you thinking, Councilor?"
"Ironically or no, what I was thinking involves the ice trade, of all things. My constituents, as you know, feel that there are certain … inefficiencies that could stand to be rectified."
Elsa felt the smile drop away. Buskefold was a center of the ice trade, but if Elsa knew Councilor Steensen as well as she thought she did, he wasn't thinking about the ice harvesters. He was thinking about the men on the other end of the trade – the owners of the ice houses, the merchants and traders, and the wealthy who sought a finger in every pie. Especially the wealthy.
"Inefficiencies such as …?" Elsa asked.
"I'll admit that my constituents view the ice harvesters' guild as chief among them," Councilor Steensen began.
"How interesting, since I believe that the Buskefold ice harvesters joined the guild in greater numbers than any other province," Elsa replied. "In terms of percentages, that is, not just raw numbers."
Councilor Steensen opened his mouth and shut it again. "Well—yes," he admitted, "which is why, though my … closer constituents, let us say, would probably want me to ask you to end the guild, or at least withdraw your support from it, I shan't be asking that."
Wait, what?
"The guild is here to stay, and frankly, so is Lord Ismester's advocacy. But you have to admit, Your Majesty, his advocacy is rather one-sided. No one appreciates the dangerous and demanding work of the ice masters more than my constituents do, but they're hardly the only ones putting their talents and their personal fortunes on the line to build a stronger ice trade for all of us."
Elsa raised one eyebrow. "Go on."
"So it's only fair that you seek to aid … my constituents as well as the ice harvesters," Councilor Steensen went on. "Particularly in regards to the lake licensing."
Elsa nodded slowly, thinking. "I have to admit, Councilor, I am not sure what is inefficient about the current system? Making sure each harvester is licensed to work on a particular lake ensures that the lakes are harvested evenly and reduces the chances of accidents coming from too many men on ice that isn't strong enough to support them all."
"And nobody would argue that safety is not an extremely important consideration. However, Your Majesty, do you think that a bureaucrat sitting in his – or her – safe and warm office is going to be the best judge of this risk? I think that the men on the ice are better judges of when conditions are not safe and how many men can safely work on the ice at a time. A bureaucrat will be inclined to be overly cautious, introducing inefficiency that we truly can't afford."
"Yet the licensing also ensures that the government can track who is harvesting where, and allows us to keep tighter control over the supply," Elsa replied. "I understand that ice comes back every year, but over-harvesting can be a danger if we're not careful."
"Quite, quite. Cut down the forest today, and what will you use for firewood tomorrow?" Councilor Steensen replied. "But really, I'm not arguing against the idea of licensing. What I would suggest would just be a small change. Instead of selling licenses to individual harvesters, why not sell one per lake?"
"One per lake," Elsa repeated.
"Indeed. It's quite a simple scheme, when you think about it. One merchant buys the license for a whole lake, and then he can hire ice harvesters to harvest it. The ice harvesters get a constant, steady wage – much better than having their incomes vary wildly with the fluctuations of the market – and the merchant gets the ice, to be sold in the way that is most profitable for him. Everyone wins," Councilor Steensen replied.
It sounded lovely. Elsa had to admit that much. And she knew how variable an ice harvester's income could be. Hadn't Kristoff and Anna met because Kristoff was out of money and out of supplies, and they met at the same trading post?
Except …
Except it wouldn't be that simple. Because what Councilor Steensen was proposing was how the forest licensing system worked. When the forests on crown lands first began to be licensed for lumber production, everyone had agreed that it would be spectacularly inefficient to license individual woodcutters. Instead larger tracts had been licensed, with strict quotas dictating how much wood was allowed to be cut at any one time. (That was why Arendelle still had virgin forest, when most of the continent had cut theirs down centuries ago.)
The results, at least on paper, were good. The lumber trade was booming, and they still had forests. However, the woodcutters who risked life and limb to create this trade were the lowest-paid of anyone in the business, and none of the licensers took care to improve safety if it threatened to eat into profits. The woodcutters, everyone said, knew the risks when they went into the business. It wasn't the licensers' task to move heaven and earth to make an inherently dangerous job somehow less dangerous.
And whether the large licensers would listen to the guild – or even allow guild men to work on their lakes at all – if Elsa was being fair, she would say that it remained to be seen. If she was being realistic, then she had to say she doubted there would be listening to or employment of guild harvesters.
"Councilor, I have to say, this sounds like a way to get rid of the guild by circumventing it, if not by direct action."
"Not at all," Councilor Steensen replied. "After all, there's nothing to stop the government from requiring that the licensers sell at guild rates."
"Or prohibit them from discriminating against guild harvesters when it comes to hiring?" Elsa asked.
Councilor Steensen's mouth fell open. "I … I suppose that's the case," he admitted.
A point for me, Elsa thought, barely holding back a smile.
"Councilor Steensen, can I be blunt?" she asked.
"Certainly."
"I can't see how this arrangement will be good for the ice harvesters," she started. "You can say what you like about steady wages, but we both know that the wages won't be as steady as that. When times are hard, the harvesters will be out of a job. When times are good, they might have slightly higher wages. And they will no longer be their own men, which I think will go very hard with them."
"Well—" Councilor Steensen began, waving his hand.
"I am not finished, Councilor. There are far more ice harvesters than there men who can afford to buy the license for an entire lake. Why aren't you worried about them punishing your party at the polls?" Even if Councilor Steensen wasn't directly elected, if his party lost the governor's post or the majority in the provincial legislature, it was practically expected that the governor would request that Elsa dismiss him so the province could choose a new representative.
Councilor Steensen smirked. "Because, Your Majesty, the ice harvesters won't be any more pleased with this marriage than my constituents."
Elsa blinked. What?
"Lord Ismester is popular with them," Councilor Steensen went on, "but that's because when he's out in the field with them, he delivers results. When he's stuck in the palace … well, that's when things start to get tricky. Don't you remember from last winter and spring?"
Elsa flushed a bit. "Those were … any new endeavor will have growing pains." And Kristoff had a broken leg!
"You know that. I know that," Councilor Steensen replied. "The ice harvesters? They only know that when Lord Ismester was in the palace, things got hard for them. When he was out with them? They became much easier.
"The truth is," Councilor Steensen leaned back, "nobody in Buskefold – at least in the ice harvesting business – is going to be happy with this marriage. I can refuse my support with impunity. True, you could dismiss me, but you'll find that every man Governor Bergfalk sends to replace me has the same views, for the same reasons. However, if you go along with my proposal, you'll get my vote – and I'll have something to show for it to my most powerful constituents, the men who take the long view, who will understand what I've done and who will do their utmost to ensure that my party is rewarded for it at the polls. The ice harvesters? Your Majesty, with all due respect, they might not even remember this vote by the time the elections next come around."
Elsa bit her lip and breathed deeply. "I see. Very well. I'll think on your proposal, Councilor Steensen. I will … I will let you know my decision when I've spoken to the rest of the councilors and have had time to think on it."
Councilor Steensen smiled. "Thank you, Your Majesty. I'm sure you'll make the best decision, once you've had time to think it over."
Elsa had to grind her teeth as he made his way out of the room.
Madam Voll came after lunch, a meal that Elsa forced herself to leave her study to eat, because greeting one of her councilors with a tray of untouched food would be supremely embarrassing. Still, she was quiet and distracted while she ate, and once she got back to her study, she was back to work on the problem.
How in the gods' name was she going to get nine votes? She was drawing up pro/con lists even now, testing the waters of dismissing a councilor or going along with Councilor Steensen's idea, and as Anna would have said if she saw the list, that was never a good sign.
She was so deep in thought that she jumped and frosted her desk over when Master Moller knocked at her door to announce Madam Voll, and she was still trying to thaw it out when the small woman made her way in.
Madam Voll frowned when her eyes fell on the desk. "Everything all right, my dear?"
"Yes—yes, of course. Sorry." Elsa closed her eyes and thought of snowball fights with Anna. When she opened them, the creeping frost was gone. She looked up with an apologetic smile. "Sometimes I think I should just get white furniture in here."
"Or perhaps something with a frost inlay or painted pattern. That could be fun!" Madam Voll took the seat that Elsa waved her to, digging her knitting out of her reticule. "But truly, what's the trouble?"
"I …" Elsa shrugged. "I still have four negative votes. At least—to the best of my knowledge. But I doubt Councilor Vang will change his mind anytime soon."
Part of her balked – why was she telling Madam Voll this? Wasn't it a breach of etiquette?
But … who else could she tell?
"Still have four? That means that no one else has gone negative?" Madam Voll nodded. "Well, that's something to be thankful for, at least."
Elsa smiled. "I don't suppose you have any ideas that might help me talk the others around?"
"Hmm. Have you seen Steensen yet? Has he tried to make a deal?"
"He … did …"
"And it's not a deal you're willing to accept?" asked Madam Voll, her eyes locked onto Elsa's, even if Elsa's gaze fell to the desk.
"It … it's going to make life worse for the ice harvesters. Certainly in the short term, and possibly in the long term as well." Elsa rubbed her temple. "Perhaps I ought not to be favoring them so much …"
"Steensen," Madam Voll replied, "works for the people in his party. You, however, are everybody's Queen. You've done quite a bit for everyone in the ice trade recently, and if the ice harvesters are getting a slightly bigger slice of the pie than they used to, well, it's a bigger pie."
Elsa looked up with a faint smile. "Have you been speaking with Treasurer Akselsen?"
"No, but I've worked with the man for over a decade, and I've picked up a few things. Trust me, ice guild or no ice guild, the bigwigs in Buskefold should have no reason to complain about what you've done with the ice harvesters."
"… Perhaps," Elsa murmured. "But if I don't take his proposal—"
"Or Halvor's," Madam Voll interrupted. "Halvor Vang was on your grandfather's Council, Your Majesty. I wouldn't put it past him to have something he's willing to trade for a yes vote."
Elsa glanced at her lists. "I can't imagine what it would be. You … you know him. He can be very set in his views."
She tapped her fingers on the desk. That was the trouble, wasn't it? All of them were set in their views.
"Well, if you can't talk any one of them around, you can always sack one," Madam Voll replied.
"Ye-es …" Elsa replied.
"But?"
Elsa shook her head. "It's a scandal. If—if I have to—so be it. But … can you imagine what the papers will make of it?"
Madam Voll blinked. She whistled. "That … is a good point."
"I can see the headlines now," Elsa sighed. "Queen Fires Councilor for Petty Disagreement."
"Do you really think your sister's happiness is a petty reason?" Madam Voll blinked.
"Of course not. But the papers will."
"Certain papers, certain papers. Albeit they're the ones that people in the – well, in the political set are more likely to read. Hmm." Madam Voll hunched in on herself, her knitting needles clacking furiously as she tried to work through the problem. Elsa watched as the yarn transformed itself into a … well … rather lumpy … something.
"But you still don't know what Halvor is going to suggest?" asked Madam Voll, looking up.
Elsa shook her head. "He's meeting with me at two-thirty today."
"Hmm. Well, you know, it's my opinion that Halvor, at this stage in life, wants nothing more than a full state funeral, if you know what I mean?" Madam Voll's eyebrows waggled. A full state funeral was standard fare for any councilor who died while in office. Retired or former councilors didn't always get quite the same send-off. "He could have something in mind. Something you're likely to agree to."
Elsa glanced at her lists. "Perhaps …"
"Just be patient, Your Majesty. I'm sure a solution will present itself. Just as it will for this hat," Madam Voll held up her knitting, "if I can ever figure out where I dropped that last stitch."
Even if speaking with Madam Voll had improved her spirits somewhat, when Councilor Vang came in, all Elsa could think of was that he was aiming for a full state funeral.
That was not helpful.
So Elsa tilted her chin up, rolled her shoulders, and forced a serene smile onto her lips as they made their way through the pleasantries and greetings. Conceal, don't feel.
And for the love of the gods, don't laugh!
Once Councilor Vang had made himself comfortable, had been offered refreshment, and had refused it, he turned the conversation to the point of the meeting. "Well, Your Majesty, I have given a great deal of thought to your proposal. I wish to be abundantly clear about my objections to this match. At the end of the day, Kristoff Bjorgman is a no-name ice harvester with no antecedents to speak of. Regardless of the title you have given him and the personal virtues he may possess, the idea that his children might someday sit on the throne of Arendelle is – well, it's insupportable, that's all there is to it.
"However, that being said," Councilor Vang went on, "even if Princess Anna and … Lord Ismester have the dozen children they profess to want, there are ways to ensure that those children do not inherit the throne."
Elsa took a deep breath and folded her hands together. "Indeed." There was no amount of willpower that could have prevented the hint of frost in her tone. "And what might those ways be?"
"There are two," Councilor Vang replied. "I'll admit that the first I considered was a morganatic marriage."
Morganatic marriage. Elsa forced herself to nod. She had considered this as a backup plan to a backup plan. Kristoff and Anna's marriage would be legally valid, their children legitimate, but the children would be barred from inheriting the throne or any of Anna's other titles or properties.
But it wasn't ideal – well, that was an understatement. It was just one short step up from letting Anna and Kristoff live in sin. It was marking Kristoff and his children as unworthy, lesser. Kristoff and Anna deserved better than that. Kristoff and Anna's children deserved better than that.
"Are you willing to consider a morganatic marriage?" asked Councilor Vang, perhaps reading something on her face that she hadn't meant to show.
"Only if I have to," Elsa replied, "and only then if Princess Anna and Lord Ismester fully support the idea."
"Which, since they are young and in love," Councilor Vang spoke as if those were backhanded insults, "they probably would, if it allowed them to wed. Unfortunately, it occurred to me that such a solution would be almost as bad, from the commoners' perspective, as forbidding the marriage entirely. Princess Anna is extremely popular among all walks of society, and as for Lord Ismester, it's no surprise that those in the lower orders should embrace him as one of their own."
Elsa watched as Councilor Vang frowned and heard a faint tap, tap, tap coming from the other side of the desk. "Arendelle has largely escaped the – the revolutionary fervor that threatened to sweep over much of the continent. As loathe as I am to admit it, part of this is because our rulers have taken pains not to upset or provoke the commons."
"Considering the bloodshed and strife that tends to accompany such fervor," Elsa replied, "I, for one, am willing to take the steps that are necessary, especially if the only price we pay is a bit of pride."
"Oh, indeed," Councilor Vang replied, "I'm not saying it's wrong—I simply lament that it should be necessary. However, that's neither here nor there. No. Besides upsetting the commons, a morganatic marriage has another key disadvantage, and that is that it creates difficulties with the succession. If Princess Anna were to die legally heirless, to whom would the throne pass?
"And then I recalled," Councilor Vang continued, "that though Princess Anna is your heiress, she is not your heiress apparent. She is your heiress presumptive. There is a way to ensure that her children with Lord Ismester will not take the throne that virtually no one will object to – indeed, a way that would be a cause for celebration."
He was smiling. He was smiling. Elsa's hands began to tremble, and she dropped them to her lap.
She took a deep breath and held it, forcing herself to count each second, trying to keep her mind calm.
"I refer, of course," Councilor Vang went on, "to your own marriage, and to the blessed occasion that will be the birth of your first child."
Oh gods!
Almost without meaning to, Elsa created a ball of snow and ice to hold in her lap and squeeze. Hard. The ball was more snow than ice, the spikes and sharps pricking her palm.
She barely noticed.
"I—it has occurred to me that, once Anna married, it would be—necessary for me to wed. That I would face greater—impetus to wed." Breathe, Elsa. Breathe. In, out, in, out. She had to look like she wasn't gasping and gulping like a fish. "I—I assure you, I have every intention of doing my duty to Arendelle."
Councilor Vang shook his head, almost—pitying? "Your Majesty, intentions, in this case, are not enough. The sooner you are married to a suitable husband, the better. In fact … if you were to be married within six months of Princess Anna's wedding, that would be ideal."
Elsa's eyes went wide. "Six months? Are you—" MAD?! She bit back, only barely.
The Councilor blinked, his jaw falling.
"To—to find a candidate—negotiate a contract—and plan a wedding—in six months? That—that's not enough time." Elsa was shaking her head, almost without meaning to. "Not enough time. Not nearly enough time."
"Your Majesty—"
"Negotiations alone can take months—years. You, you should know this. With your experience!" Elsa exploded. "If—gods only know what kind of concessions another country could force from us, if they had any idea we were operating under such a tight deadline. And then—then there's the matter of finding someone—"
"Your Majesty," Councilor Vang interrupted, and Elsa was glad, for it gave her a chance to catch her breath. "I think I speak for the majority of the Council, the peers, and even the commons when I point out that Ambassador Solberg would be a most suitable husband."
Elsa's eyes went wide, and if there was any reason to doubt how she was feeling, the Arctic chill that swept over the room soon dispelled it.
"Your Majesty?" Councilor Vang, looking around the room with wide, almost frightened eyes.
Fear will be your enemy …
NO! Love will thaw! Love will thaw!
Elsa squeezed her eyes shut. Perhaps it was inevitable given the focus of their conversation, but the first love that came to her mind was Nick.
Nick taking her stargazing, his hand on the small of her back as he showed her Saturn, Jupiter, the Pleiades, and all the other stars in the sky.
Nick grinning, his hands moving almost of their own accord as he talked about the studies taking place in other countries, trying to determine what the stars were made of, how far away they were, and whether people could ever someday reach them.
Nick sitting by her side at a summertime picnic, his hand in hers, her sketchbook open in their joined laps, flipping through designs of ice castles and decoration one by one.
Nick somehow always finding her in the shadows at state balls and functions, laughing together, holding hands or daring small touches when they thought they were unobserved.
Nick in the gardens after the ball celebrating the one year anniversary of the Great Thaw, holding her close, delicious kisses seen by no one but the moon.
Nick seeing her ice palace for the first time, the look of wonder, the whispered, "Elsa, you … you made this?"
Elsa could not be sure which memory did the trick, but when she opened her eyes again, her heart was hammering and her breathing was far too fast. The room, however, was warm.
Unfortunately, Councilor Vang still looked alarmed. "Your—Your Majesty—"
"There are reasons why—why Ambassador Solberg and I are not officially courting," Elsa forced herself to say. "Private reasons that have nothing to do with the state."
"Do—do you not think he would be a good husband?" asked Councilor Vang. His brows were knit together, his words uncertain.
More that I'm nowhere near ready to be a wife. Elsa closed her eyes and pinched her nose, drawing in what strength she could with a deep breath. "When you announce to the world that you are courting, the world wants to know when you will be engaged – and from there, when you will be married."
"Well, yes, obviously, but—" Councilor Vang started.
Elsa glared at him.
Councilor Vang stopped.
Elsa heard the telltale crack of a knuckle, more tap, tap, taps, and knew that neither had come from her.
"How about—a compromise," Councilor Vang suggested. "That—that you must marry, and sooner rather than later, but—instead of forcing you to squeeze a wedding, negotiations, etc. into six months—which, now that I think that we will be negotiating with the Weasels, perhaps six months following Princess Anna's wedding isn't quite enough time—you simply must announce your engagement within those six months. That will give you more time for … for, well, everything."
Announce an engagement within six months of Anna's wedding. All right. That … Elsa closed her eyes. She could work with that.
But …
She needed to think. Because there was a voice in her head reminding her that she didn't have to do this. She had another option.
There was another voice reminding her that she still hadn't heard from Minister Falk … and considering she had no idea what he would say …
To agree to anything would be premature.
"Councilor, I—thank you. I cannot agree to anything at present – I have to consider all of the proposals that I have been given," Elsa said, raising hand in case he thought to protest. "But I do thank you for that consideration. Rest assured, your proposal … if I believe that it is what is best for Arendelle, I will agree to it. I take if that if I give you my word on this matter, you will lend your approval to Princess Anna's marriage?"
"I shall indeed," Councilor Vang replied, nodding. He narrowed his eyes. "Are you—forgive this presumption—but you are all right now?"
Elsa nodded. It was easy to say what needed to be said. "I'm fine."
"Good. Good. Well, with that—if it is all right with you—I will take my leave of you, Your Majesty."
They bid their polite farewells, and Councilor Vang made his way to the door. But before he could open it, he paused.
"Your Majesty—you know—marriage is hardly frightening," he said, turning around. "I was married over forty years. They were—well, they had their ups and downs, of course, but all in all … they were some of the best of my life."
Elsa took that in the spirit in which it was meant, nodding graciously. "Thank you, Councilor. I will certainly keep that in mind."
Her head was still whirling when Minister Falk came in, the last meeting she had before it was time to go and change for dinner.
But she had to keep up appearances, even though the sight of him made her stomach tie in knots. By rights Minister Falk ought to have had the biggest say in the decision of Anna's marriage. By rights he should have helped in the search. But Anna had found her husband-to-be all on her own, and after the debacle with Hans, neither sister had been eager to deal with more princes.
So now Elsa needed to win his support for Anna's marriage, and she had no idea what he actually thought.
His face didn't betray much, nor did his bearing. He smiled, he bowed, he made cheerful small talk. He asked how Elsa's Yule holiday had been, and she asked how his had gone. And so on, until Elsa had no choice but to focus their discussion on the matter at hand.
"So, Minister. I … I must apologize for not bringing the matter of Princess Anna's marriage to your attention … sooner …"
Minister Falk waved away her concerns. "Your Majesty, that was no slight. Anyone with eyes can see how Lord Ismester and Princess Anna feel about each other. It was a matter of time before they were engaged. It was my duty to raise my objections to the potential match to you before that occurred."
"Your objections," Elsa took a deep breath. Of course there would be objections. The man in charge of her foreign policy couldn't have anything but objections. "Very well—let us hear them."
However, instead of launching on a tirade, Minister Falk shrugged. "It's a missed opportunity, is all. Princess Anna's marriage could have helped us form a strong alliance. With your father being an only child, we didn't have as many opportunities for them in the past generation as we would have liked.
"However," he continued, "as I said, I should have brought that up to you months ago, when it might have done some good. As it is, parting the two of them isn't worth the heartache. Enough rumors about them have left our shores that just about everyone we might form an alliance with has already heard them, and that … well, explaining that away won't be pleasant, and it will damage Princess Anna's prospects, like it or not."
"Ah," Elsa replied. "So you … have no objections?"
Was it going to be this easy? Was she going to get an eighth vote? She'd need one more, but at least she had options for that …
And if Minister Falk supported her, it would make everything look so, so much better.
But Minister Falk didn't answer right away.
"To be honest, Your Majesty …" He scratched the back of his head. "The truth is, Princess Anna's marriage greatly limits your options – for marriage, I mean – and it does force you to move perhaps more quickly than you would have liked. Even without Councilor Vang getting in the middle of it."
Elsa's eyes went wide. "You—you know …?"
Minister Falk nodded. "He sounded me out before he came to you, I believe. Wanted to know if there were strenuous objections to a match with Weselton, and how long I thought negotiations might take. It wasn't hard to put the pieces together from there."
"… Oh," Elsa murmured. "And you … told him …?"
Minister Falk shook his head. "That's not as important, Your Majesty. What is important is – well – let me put it like this. You stopped your sister from marrying the first man she ever thought of in a … marrying way."
Elsa's heart skipped a beat. "It's not the same thing."
"Your Majesty—"
"No. No. Even if—even if I am considering—and we haven't even talked about—" Elsa ground her teeth, gulped, and forced her thoughts back onto a single path. "There is a world of difference between knowing someone for a single night and knowing them for a year."
"Certainly. But if the reason you're rushing into marriage is because you're afraid that this is your best and only chance … well …"
Elsa covered her mouth and looked away. "It's not the same," she forced herself to say.
Minister Falk didn't answer right away. When he did, it wasn't at all to the point. "Your Majesty … your father and I were friends, you know."
Elsa looked up, one eyebrow raised slightly.
"I know where he kept the brandy," he said, nodding to Elsa's desk, "because it was often we'd have a glass together after things were—well—difficult in Council, or after negotiating with certain parties, or … well, you get the idea. And we talked, you know, about more than just politics and policy. He talked about you and your sister often, you know, especially about what he wanted for you and Princess—"
"Please. Stop," Elsa interrupted. It was all she could to keep from cringing. "I am—I am quite aware that my father would not be happy to see An—Princess Anna wed to a commoner. I do not care. He—he is not here now, and I must rule as I see fit."
"Your Majesty," Minister Falk replied, "that wasn't what I was going to say."
Elsa knit her brows and turned her head slightly to one side.
Minister Falk smiled. "He wanted the two of you to be happy, you know."
Elsa blinked. Happy? That didn't match the Papa she remembered. Oh, certainly, he always looked happy when they were happy – albeit those smiles had grown fewer and fewer as Elsa's teens progressed. But he had always spoken about duty, honor, and the sacrifices required of those who were born to rule.
"You were born to privilege, Elsa," he would say, "and with that comes certain responsibilities."
"I … I suppose," Elsa replied, because she wasn't sure what else to do other than agree.
"And the last thing he would want would be to see you rush into something you might regret later, because you think you have no other choice. He'd want you to—to at least look at the other options. To have some fun! Be the belle of the ball, be courted and chased."
Now Elsa had to raise an eyebrow. She could, perhaps, see the wisdom of looking at other options … but have fun? Be the belle of the ball? That sounded more like something her mother would have wanted. She had loved to tell stories about her courting days, the young men she'd flirted with, the tricks she and her sister had played on them.
"I—I am not entirely sure—but I suppose—I suppose Pa—my father would have wanted me to see … other options …"
That won't be so bad, Elsa tried to convince herself. It would cost nothing to send out a few diplomatic feelers. If there was a country that had an extremely good offer—well, Elsa could cross (burn) that bridge when she came to it.
Minister Falk nodded. "And it seems to me that Princess Anna's wedding could be an excellent occasion for you to meet a few suitable suitors."
Wait, what? "M-meet?" Elsa stammered. "Surely—surely that won't—I mean—surely we could first see if—if anyone has an offer worth hearing?"
The response she received was a raised eyebrow. "Your Majesty, I assure you, they will all have offers worth hearing."
"Oh … my …" Elsa forced herself to breathe. At least the room wasn't growing cold … yet …
"And as your foreign minister," Minister Falk went on, "I must urge that you not venture into a marriage contract without considering your other options. At least meeting them."
"I thought this was about what my father would have wanted," her voice was perilously close to a snap, "not about your duty as my minister."
"Your Majesty, why can it not be both?"
Elsa closed her eyes for a brief second, breathing in and out, slowly and easily. She gulped.
"If your sister is to wed within the country," Minister Falk went on, "it is even more important to ensure that your marriage—"
"I know. I know!"
Minister Falk didn't answer right away. "Your Majesty … whether you want to work within Councilor Vang's timeline, whatever it might be, is your decision. But I will say this. I cannot, in good conscience, give my vote in favor of Princess Anna's marriage unless I have your word that you will explore your options for your own marriage. You deserve better than to rush into the first option that looks pleasant."
Elsa crossed her arms in front of her chest, hugging herself almost, and swallowed. "Do you have … objections to that option?"
"I have assembled quite a dossier on Ambassador Solberg, if that is what you are asking, Your Majesty. And I give you my word of honor that had I encountered something objectionable, you would have been the first to know about it."
"How comforting," Elsa muttered. "How long?"
"How long …"
"How long have you … suspected?"
Minister Falk smiled. "Watching the two of you when we were negotiating for the treaty last year was … intriguing. But my suspicions were confirmed after the little … incident at the warehouse last winter. The fact that there were no complaints from Weselton whatsoever was quite illuminating."
Well, there shouldn't have been, said a testy voice that Elsa didn't listen to often. Nick went after me on his own! I tried to get him out of there as soon as I realized what he was doing!
"I see." Elsa swallowed. "I thank you for respecting my … privacy."
"Of course, Your Majesty."
"And you will not support Princess Anna's marriage without me agreeing to look at … options?"
"Indeed, Your Majesty."
Elsa stared at the desk. "I … see. Well, Minister Falk, you have certainly given me much to think about …" She took a deep breath. "I shall let you know what I decide as soon as possible."
"Of course, Your Majesty. I am at your service." Minister Falk hesitated a moment, then bowed and took his leave of her.
For a moment Elsa was rather proud of herself, for keeping control of herself as well as she had. Not a flake had escaped her, and the room was barely colder than it had been when he entered.
Of course, as soon as Minister Falk left, all of that changed.
And as the storm swirled around her, Elsa took deep breaths, rested her head on the desk, and rode it out. And all through it, one question pounded through her brain.
What am I going to do?
What a nice little cliffhanger to leave you all on! Sorry this chapter took so long, by the way – the last week or so has kicked my butt, writing-wise. Hopefully Chapter 11 will be easier to write than Chapter 10 left.
Anyway! Thank you blossomjaj988, Van, Jacob Flores, Insectoid, TheHumanCanvas, Penmaster1547, Batman1809, fericita, CrunchDeNumbers, jedijae, and Guest! Thanks especially for commenting even though FFNet blew up for the better part of a day after I posted that update.
Hopefully we won't be in for a repeat performance.
Hope you all enjoyed the chapter, and I'll see you for Chapter 6!