The infirmary was quiet save for labored breathing. Under the watchful eyes of Anna and Kai, Elsa had restlessly slumbered through lunch and into the early afternoon.
Not even when Martin reentered the infirmary did Elsa awake - not that there were any words exchanged once he did. Anna merely gave the guardsman an understanding nod and he was at back against his wall dutifully.
The princess did not ask how his mission had gone. She did not really want to know, anyway - she was already dreading talking about the issue of Mrs. Daleon with Elsa again later.
Following Martin's return, Elsa would occasionally twitch and groan in slight pain, however her eyes never opened and her faint snores never ceased. Despite her excessive rest over the past several days, it did not seem to any of the queen's guardians that she would be waking up anytime soon.
In the meantime, Anna tried (with varying degrees of success) to decipher the reports which the queen had requested as reading materials. It was just after three and the princess was struggling through something about the kingdom's recent economic gains when a polite cough from Kai - in the back of the room doing some reading of his own - prompted her to finally rise from the visitors' chair.
Anna had been hoping to be able to talk to Elsa before having to leave for the meeting with Ambassador Balan, but she did not have the heart to wake her resting sister. Reluctantly, the princess left the infirmary and went to her bedroom to get ready.
It took twenty minutes for the servants to properly tame Anna's unruly mess of hair, which had backslid to its fully wild state over the course of the day. Ten more were dedicated to selecting a dress - ironically, a rather simple, blue affair was settled upon unanimously - and, by the time the maids had left and Anna gave herself a final look-over in her bedroom mirror, the princess looked and felt presentable for the first time since the festival.
In fact, Anna was quite glad to see that, between the fine braids and plain frock, she would almost resemble a red-haired Elsa for her appointment.
She wondered if looking like the queen would help her act like her, too.
"Not likely," Anna teased her reflection.
Of course, the princess would try to muster up every ounce of regality she had, however she was setting her expectations low as far as actually dealing with the ambassador went. The primary focus of the afternoon would be maintaining propriety through the dinner - any Elsa-esque political maneuvers were not on the princess's agenda.
"Princess Anna?" a servant appeared at the bedroom door.
"Yes?"
"Ambassador Balan has sent for you."
"That's surprising," Anna muttered to herself sarcastically. She checked the clock on her vanity to see that she was only four minutes late. It seemed that the ambassador had not lost his eagerness over lunch.
"He awaits your presence in the dining hall."
"Thank you," Anna looked to the door and spoke openly, dismissing the messenger with a smile and a slight nod.
Once the servant had left down the hallway in the direction of the kitchen, the princess turned back to the mirror, adjusted an ever-rebellious strand of hair in a braid, and rehearsed:
"I'm sorry, but I simply cannot make a decision without my sister present," Anna tilted her head downwards in a polite way that she had picked up from watching Elsa. "Perhaps you would like to arrange a meeting with her once she has made a full recovery?"
The princess held her formal pose for as long as she could, but her eventual descent into laughter was inevitable.
Even though she thought it all sounded ridiculous, it would have to do.
Anna glanced at the clock to see that she was now seven minutes late. By then, the princess guessed, the ambassador was probably concerned for her welfare, so she rose from her seat in front of the vanity and started for the door.
Worrying the anxious man sick probably would not be the best for international relations, but that did not keep Anna from smirking at the thought as she exited her bedroom.
The horse below Dee whined, stepping off of the dirt and onto the cobbled roads of the town. It was obviously unaccustomed to such long journeys, but its rider urged it forward all the same.
"Almost there," the widow whispered to her mount. She peered out of her light, tan travelling cloak's hood to see Arendelle, taking in the seaside streets for the second time that day.
Despite having departed quite early in the morning and now returned in the prime hours of the afternoon, the town looked much the same to the woman. The docks held motionless ships and the castle bridge motionless guards. Only two or three commoners could be seen out in the square, meandering about the few open shops for a while before eventually stealing into their unusually closed doors and leaving the town around the visitor completely deserted.
There seemed to be a somber, uncertain haze over Arendelle - a fear brought on by the Dark Mage's attack that kept the town quiet, still, and cowering.
Dee and her steed proceeded through the empty town square like anomalies before arriving at the bridge that led to the castle.
"Halt!" one of the two guardsman at its mouth held his hand up at the approach. His hair was gray and his voice stern. "State your business."
"I seek an audience with Queen Elsa," Dee stated. She dismounted (much to the tired horse's relief) and stood before the addressed guard at her full height.
The widow pulled her cloak's gossamer hood down, revealing her face. Wrinkled shadows of former tears streaked their way down her cheeks, almost invisible after hours of settling.
"Mrs. Daleon?" the second guardsman burst out in recognition. It was Isaac - now at his proper post and wide awake in anticipation of his shift's impending end.
"The assassin?" the older man asked incredulously. "I thought that kid who saved Princess Anna was supposed to have escorted you back to the hills where you belong."
"He did," Dee nodded, half in acknowledgement of Isaac's familiar face and half in simple affirmation. Again, the woman seemed changed to the younger guardsman - not the hysterical apologizer of their first meeting nor the silent prisoner of that morning, but a completely different beast altogether. She appeared purposeful, almost obstinate in her very tone. "I return, however, to see Queen Elsa."
The gruff guardsman opposite the widow sneered, his brow furrowing deeply.
"What is this, then? Only just pardoned of an attempt on the queen's life and you're already back for another round?" the man demanded. He balled his hands into fists at his sides, but Dee did not so much as flinch. "Maybe I should just put you back in that cell right now."
"I only wish to speak to-"
"She's not going to hurt Queen Elsa," Isaac interrupted the woman on her behalf, sensing trouble in his company's seemingly mutual stubbornness. He looked to his fellow guardsman, who glanced back in puzzlement. They both turned again to the widow after a short, silent exchange. "Right, Mrs. Daleon? Like you told me the other night."
"Yes," Dee confirmed. "You can search me - I carry no weapon. I just want to talk to Queen Elsa. I must talk to Queen Elsa."
Isaac shifted uncomfortably, but nonetheless tried to speak before his fellow watchman came up with another confrontational retort. "I don't think now is the best time for your apology, Mrs. Daleon," he spat out. "The queen isn't well. I know you were in the dungeon, but during the festival-"
"I know about the attack and the queen's injuries," Dee cut in. "I hope you didn't think that I was oblivious to your conversation this morning just because I was resting."
"Oh," Isaac remembered his talk with Martin hours before, "right."
"In any case, I already apologized to Queen Elsa on the night of the festival," Dee divulged. "I'm not here for that," she turned to the older man, "but I'm not here as a threat, either. I have information for the queen."
"Information?" he scoffed. "A likely story. I think that's about enough-"
"It's information regarding the Dark Mage."
The surly guardsman went silent.
"What?" Isaac blurted out. "What is it?"
"I request an audience with Queen Elsa," Dee answered simply.
Isaac remembered Princess Anna's words from that very morning. She had said that Queen Elsa wished to be 'informed about everything immediately'. The queen would surely want to hear what Dee had to say, and quite possibly be very pleased with whomever had brought the widow to her attention. The guardsman saw his chance at absolute redemption standing before him.
Isaac watched the widow's expression for any hint that something was off, but he found none. She did not look dangerous in the slightest.
Meanwhile, the older man had finally pushed aside his surprise to make way for the reemergence of anger.
"Now listen here, you had better not be concealing-"
"Let me take her to Queen Elsa," Isaac stopped his peer before he could begin his tirade.
"What?" the enraged guardsman coughed out.
"My shift's over anyway," Isaac continued. "Let me take her. Martin said that Queen Elsa woke up this morning. If Mrs. Daleon really knows something that we don't about the Dark Mage, then she will want to hear it."
The men faced each other and a negotiation of raised eyebrows and subtle mouth movements commenced.
After a while, the older guardsman turned back to the widow in disgust, defeated.
"Put your arms out," he ordered. "I'm still searching you."
Dee complied with a satisfied look, standing tall as the man patted at the limbs beneath her cloak.
Isaac watched nervously and hoped that his faith in the woman had not been misplaced. His fears were realized when the austere guardsman's hand clapped down with an odd noise on the widow's hip.
"What's this?" the man clutched the thin, rectangular shape through the fabric.
"A book," Dee explained. Her right arm navigated the folds of her dress and pulled the object from her searcher's grasp from the inside. It reemerged from the cloak to display a small, unthreatening volume, not even large enough to conceal an extra page within its bindings. "Just a book."
The older guardsman snarled at the sight and went back to his task with a newfound roughness. He went over the widow twice before speaking again.
"Just a book," the man repeated lowly, taking two steps backward as Dee returned her luggage to her belt. "You can go. I would bet Queen Elsa will order you back to the dungeon on sight, anyway," he taunted the widow. Finally, he looked to his partner. "I'll take care of the horse. Don't take your eyes off of her."
Isaac nodded obediently.
Dee walked right past the two guardsman and started for the castle with a purposeful pace that the surprised young man quickly turned and tried to match.
Balan was standing just outside of the door to the dining hall upon Anna's arrival, predictably drumming his fingers against a felt pant leg in a rapid rhythm. The hefty man nearly jumped when he caught sight of the princess down the hall and a sincere (yet somehow false-looking) joy splashed across his face.
"Princess Anna!" he waved to her, at once reassuming his perfect posture. "I was beginning to worry that you had fallen ill."
"Uh, no," Anna approached the imposing figure awkwardly, already failing in her attempt to remain professional. She had not expected her prediction to be correct. The ambassador's propriety-masked oddness never failed to disarm her. "Sorry, I was just running late. My hair."
"I see," Balan beamed, genuinely pleased to hear such a simple explanation. Anna arrived at the doorway and glanced at the man's scarred cheek for a moment before correcting herself in a hurry and meeting his gaze. "Dinner is ready to be served. Shall we go in?"
It was clear that the ambassador was legitimately waiting for a response.
"Sure," Anna answered quietly. She found herself humbled - not a common occurrence considering her intrinsic status.
Balan led the way into the dining hall. No doubt by his insistent order, the long room had been dressed for an occasion. The drapes were lowered enough to block out all natural brightness, leaving the deep glow of the trio of overhead chandeliers as the sole remaining light. Placemats covered the whole grand table as if in preparation for a huge feast, however Anna spied only two sets of silverware - twin plates set across from each other on the birch's far edge.
"I put us at the end so that we may have some privacy," Balan explained casually as they strolled to the other side of the room. "I hope you do not mind."
"Of course not," was all that Anna could manage.
Balan pulled out a chair for the princess before taking his own.
A servant was just behind the diners, fine wine and cups in hand. Anna noticed that his face was abnormally pale. He must have been talking to the ambassador prior to her arrival, then.
"Thank you, thank you," Balan said with a calculated cordiality as the drinks were poured. Before the poor waiter could escape, he added, "we're both very hungry."
"Yes, Ambassador Balan, right away."
The servant scurried back through a side door and Anna was left alone with the ambassador.
Neither of them said anything for a while. Anna tried hard not to stare at the scar. Aware of her struggle, Balan finally made the first move.
"My lucky chalice."
"Huh?"
The ambassador raised his respective cup into the air above his plate, tapping its golden rim with a thick finger. The goblet was quite the display - surely fancier and more expensive-looking than any drinking instrument that Anna had ever seen - with an intricate design and more than a few embedded gems. The jewels and the golden surface they laid upon twinkled in the dining hall's overhead light like they had for some reason been polished recently. Even the elegant, customary royal glass that the princess's wine resided in looked meager in comparison to the shining bowl.
"My lucky chalice," the ambassador repeated proudly. "Made by a group of the finest craftsmen of Geralde. I carry it with me everywhere I go, for you never know when a toast will need to be made," he shook the cup gently. "To our great kingdoms' time-honored partnership - may it ever continue under our young rulers."
Balan held his chalice out in anticipation and Anna scrambled to meet it with her own. Glass clicked against gold and each party took a tiny sip of their respective drink.
"How is the queen, by the way?" the ambassador licked a red stain off of his upper lip. "She seemed to be recovering quite well this morning."
"She's okay," Anna answered, loosening up slightly with the thought of her sister. "I only got to talk to her a little. I think she's still in a lot of pain-"
Two sets of rapid steps echoed through the hall. Wordless and careful to avoid eye contact with the ambassador, a duo of servants placed a bowl full of finely sliced and dressed cucumbers on each plate and then shuffled away as quickly as they had come.
"The famous Arendellien agurksalat," Balan introduced the dish. "I understand that it is one of your favorites?"
Anna nodded, eyes fixed desirously on the bowl. The princess certainly understood why agurksalat was one of the castle chef's most renowned creations. She had requested it to be made at each holiday since she was a child, though generally the understanding was that the cucumber salad's tastiness was reserved solely for such occasions. It had never been served at any normal dinner.
"I took the liberty of asking the chef to put together a meal befitting of our meeting," Balan grinned self-importantly. "I expect you will be quite the fan of the other courses, as well."
"Thank... Thank you," Anna stammered. Suddenly, in the presence of the agurksalat, the princess's stomach growled. She had eaten little since the festival - in truth only whatever Kristoff or Kai managed to force down her throat - and indeed was expectedly ravenous coming into the dining hall.
The bowl in front of her beckoned to her, but Anna looked up, trying to hold onto her manners.
Balan gestured forward, noting the hunger in the young woman's eyes. "Please," he offered, his lips and the scar dancing coolly.
The princess started in on the vinegar-soaked cucumbers with delight, considering them even better than the ones from her last birthday. Balan joined her with a delicate bite before he proceeded with conversation.
"I do hope that the queen makes a full recovery soon," he said. "Is there any indication of when that may be?"
Anna tried her best to chew and swallow the latest mouthful. "The doctor said that the burns will stop hurting over the next couple of days or so," she recalled, already holding a reloaded fork just below her chin. "The leg is the real problem," the princess added sadly.
"Of course," Balan reflected the melancholy tone.
"Elsa will be fine, though," Anna reassured the both of them. "She's strong - she's always strong. She just needs some more rest, that's all."
Balan agreed with another taste from his chalice. "I'm inclined to believe you," he smiled, a dab of red returning to his lip as the scar twisted on his cheek. "I have heard from a few of the other ambassadors that Queen Elsa is no pushover, to be sure. I suppose that that resilience is not limited only to the diplomatic realm?"
The diners shared a laugh just as Anna stuffed the last bit of agurksalat into her mouth.
At once, Balan was tapping at his chalice with a silver knife, his rapid strikes echoing throughout the dining hall.
"Next course!" the ambassador called as if inconvenienced by some great incompetence on part of the wait staff.
"Oh, no, sorry," Anna quickly tried to stop him. She glanced down at the man's own barely touched bowl of cucumbers, blushing. "I ate too fast. I didn't mean to rush you."
Balan's jaw dropped. "Not at all, Princess Anna," he replied, surprised by even the notion of the apology. "It only seems that I am not as hungry as you are," his smile returned. "Do not worry yourself on my behalf."
The princess mirrored his expression, but still could not help feeling a bit guilty.
"In any case, there is plenty more on the way," Balan teased. Across the hall, the two familiar servants entered through the side door, each carrying a steaming bowl of soup. "As a matter of fact, here some of it finally comes now."
Isaac knocked at the infirmary's entrance once he and the widow had arrived. He knew that it was probably unlocked - in fact, the door did not have a latch at all - but wished to remain cautious, growing uncertain of his choice to escort Dee to meet with Queen Elsa. As he hurriedly battered the wood, he tried to reassure himself.
He was delivering information about the Dark Mage. Queen Elsa would be grateful, not angry. She and Mrs. Daleon had already spoken on the night of the festival. Everything would be fine.
Inside of the sickroom, the guardsman's knocks were echoed and afforded the queen a sudden awakening. Her eyes opened and she groaned weakly in frustration of losing a pleasant dream.
"Sorry, Queen Elsa," Martin jumped up from his post with a start. Kai, too, dropped a report and rose from his seat on the other side of the room, at once at Elsa's bedside with a reserved cup of water.
The guardsman hurried to open the door. When he did, he was quite confused by what he saw.
"Hi," Isaac greeted his friend meekly.
"Who is it?" Elsa asked with a slight irritation in her voice once she had gulped down the water.
"Isaac," Martin breathed out a high breath, acknowledging the young man although his gaze was fixed entirely on the widow beside him. "It's Isaac and Mrs. Daleon."
"Mrs. Daleon?" Elsa's muscles tensed in painful instinct. "I thought I told you to take her home."
"I thought I did," Martin squeaked, dumbfounded.
"I do not come here as a prisoner," Dee called into the infirmary from the hallway.
"She knows something about the Dark Mage," Isaac scrambled to explain, sensing an impending muteness rising within him. "She says she'll only tell Queen Elsa in person."
"May I come in?" Dee followed up. She returned Martin's confused stare, but addressed the queen herself.
"Of course, of course," Elsa croaked. She struggled on account of the bandages to reposition herself into a pseudo-sitting position on the bed. After a failed attempt, Kai carefully helped the top of her back onto the pillow. "Mrs. Daleon is an acquaintance, Martin. Let her in."
"Yes, Queen Elsa," the guardsman said uncomfortably and shuffled aside after a long hesitation.
Dee entered the room confidently, taking an immediate seat at the visitors' chair beside the queen's bed and right next to the still-standing Kai. Even though he was not invited, Isaac followed the widow inside, sharing a brief and silent conversation with the other guardsman before the two took their own protective places behind the chair.
"I'm sorry that you were not released before this morning," Elsa began with a sickly sorrow. "I was unable to-"
"I understand," the widow dismissed the apology with an almost inappropriate sternness that everyone in the room save for the queen herself took as offensive. "Queen Elsa, I need to tell you something far more important than any of that," she continued gravely. "Are you well enough to listen?"
In the dining hall, the meal proceeded at a rapid pace. Anna's hunger seemed to know no bounds, and the fact that she was being tempted by course after course of her favorite foods only made matters worse. Despite her speed, there was always another dish to be brought at the call of the ambassador's tinny knife.
Although her mouth was for the most part busied by chewing, the princess found her continuing casual conversation with Balan pleasurable enough. Anna did think it strange that the ambassador had been so insistent upon calling her to discuss the weather over fine fisksuppe, but she awkwardly said nothing in the face of the man's enthusiastic predictions of rain.
In essence, the supposed diplomatic meeting boiled down to idle musings from Balan as Anna tried to remain politely listening while wolfing down the newest treat from the chef. Admittedly, she was warming up to the ambassador's irregularities.
"-and so I have been afraid of birds ever since," Balan finished an anecdote and poked at his barely-touched sixth-course lamb with a fork. On the other side of the table, Anna, who had already long finished, giggled.
"Afraid?" she teased. "You don't really strike me as the type."
"To be afraid of birds?"
"To be afraid at all," Anna corrected, looking over the man's broad, confident pose in his seat.
"Oh," Balan's face fell for an indiscernible moment as he took longer than usual to process the compliment. Finally, after what was only a mere second for the princess, the unexpected crack was repaired and the ambassador calculated an appropriate response. "Birds can be quite vicious," he disclosed with a perfect lilt, "I assure you."
"Nothing you couldn't handle," Anna fired back and together they laughed the topic into obscurity.
It was not long before Balan had looked down and hastily picked up his knife again.
"My apologies, Princess Anna," he excused himself. "I did not notice that you were finished. Once more, I am unable to match your appetite-"
Anna put her hands out above the table gently to stop the man before his knife struck the chalice.
"No need to rush," she said. The princess watched as the ambassador shook his head and started to say something, but was quick to cut him off again. She sensed the break in their casual conversation and figured it would be as good of a time as any to jokingly voice her concerns. "If we keep moving like this we might not get to the serious stuff before we hit dessert!"
Balan's face seemed torn between a smile and something very different. His scar, too.
"The next course is dessert, isn't it?"
The ambassador nodded with a faux bashfulness. He still held the knife only inches from his cup.
"Didn't you say that you had something important that you wanted to talk to me about?" Anna asked. "Isn't that why you called the meeting in the first place? Wait, it wasn't the bird thing, was it? I'm not really sure how Arendelle can help you get over your fear-"
"No, no," Balan interrupted. His lips had fully swung to an exaggerated frown. "You are correct. I have called this meeting for something very important, indeed. Forgive me - I have a bad habit of delaying official matters as long as I can manage. A Geraldien custom, I suppose."
The ambassador placed his knife back down beside his plate on the table, a deceptively grand gesture that small talk had definitively ceased. The large man's posture was straighter; his look absolutely focused. What was once refined and proper became aggressively more so with the arrival of true business and Anna could feel the intimidating shift in the air between them instantly.
Perhaps she should not have been so insistent upon getting serious after all.
"What... What is the something?"
"I have come to Arendelle in order to discuss the possible invocation of Article IV of the Treaty of the Sixth," Balan declared. His casualness was gone, replaced entirely by an equally suave severity. It was as if he were reading his thoughts out of a textbook. "Geralde suspects it will be in need of some assistance very soon."
Anna's eyebrow instinctively raised. "The Treaty of the Sixth?" she mumbled to herself. She recalled the name from her history lessons and discussions with the ambassador over the course of his recovery.
Among the isolationist Arendelle's few de-facto allies, Balan's homeland ranked higher than most. While the Royal Family had only had limited diplomatic discussion with Geralde for several years, the two nations remained connected by the vague, ancient partnership.
The Treaty of the Sixth's mandates were many and admittedly the princess could not remember them all, however she did know that they had secured a resilient friend for Arendelle over the generations, linking their trade networks in a way perhaps only rivaled by the former agreement with Weselton.
"You look surprised," Balan said disappointedly. "You know of the treaty. I believe we toasted to it, did we not?"
"Yes, yes," Anna coughed out. "I'm aware of the treaty. I mean, we talked about it the other day and I learned about it as a kid and I eat Geraldien chocolates all the time and I even got to visit once or twice as a kid, but..." the princess lost herself for a moment in her tangent. She had to pause to collect herself before continuing. "I have a little trouble remembering the Articles," she admitted, averting her eyes. "You said IV?"
When the young woman looked back up, she could only watch worriedly as Balan's face once again twisted into a strange expression of conflicting emotion that was powerful and unreadable all the same.
"Yes, Article IV," he affirmed, a grimace rising to the surface at last. "The defensive pact against the aggression of our shared neighbor."
The ambassador finished his reminder with such distaste that Anna knew exactly who he was speaking of, her historic studies again coming in handy.
"Ceverra," she whispered to a scornful nod from the man.
The princess knew that only the second-closest nation to Arendelle could inspire such animosity from an agent of the first.
Geralde and Ceverra alone occupied an island just a day's sail off of the coast, setting them up as natural rivals along their oft-contested border. Anna's lessons had been riddled with conflict between the two kingdoms. Arendelle technically remained neutral in the affairs, however it was plain to see that its relationship with Ceverra was not nearly as comprehensive as with Geralde considering the former's reputation for deadly - though thankfully increasingly infrequent - attempts at expansion and thus elimination of its counterpart.
"As you know, the Treaty of the Sixth followed our last war with the Ceverrans. With Article IV, our great kingdoms agreed to aid each other militarily if Ceverra were ever to ultimately attack again," Balan explained, speaking proudly almost as if he had been there those decades ago and signed the papers himself. "While that promise has kept them to mere harmless troublemaking for this long, it seems that we can expect such 'peace' no more."
"Geralde has been attacked?" Anna gasped.
"No," Balan shook his head slightly, "not outright, but I fear that real conflict is imminent. Several of our farms on the border have been mysteriously raided. It was unlike anything we have seen from the Ceverrans in years, but it was them," the ambassador looked downwards with a wince. "The fields were razed; homes turned to ashes; survivors nonexistent. It was just like last time. It was them."
The ambassador gazed broodingly at his unfinished food, but when the princess (also deep in shocked thought) did not respond, he transitioned upwards again.
"As I said, I have come to ensure that Arendelle is prepared to uphold its end of the treaty," Balan said in a low voice that might have been humble if he were capable of such a feat. "In the event of an attack, Geralde would be unable to defend itself alone. We would rely on your aid. I wanted to make sure that Queen Elsa would provide it."
Anna could not tear herself away from eye contact with the man.
"I..." the princess stammered. She thought back to her time in front of the vanity mirror, though suddenly her practiced lines seemed woefully inadequate. Surely she could not turn the ambassador away with an excuse - not considering the revealed importance of the meeting and the binding force behind his request. "I'm sure that my sister will follow the treaty," Anna decided quickly, thinking on her feet and hoping that she was correct in her declaration for several reasons. "Of course she will."
"Thank you," Balan nodded. His lips turned up into a finally concrete expression of relief as if the princess had reassured him perfectly. He was back at ease, slowly returning to his full defining confidence. "We can only hope that things do not come to that," he said with dissipating gravity. "Can I assume that you will discuss these matters with the queen herself, then, whenever she is well enough?"
"Yes," Anna agreed, worry ringing in her mind like a constant buzz. "Yes, of course."
Indeed, she needed to talk to Elsa. Even if it were just a possibility and in the defense of a good friend, the implications of Arendelle being dragged to war by a generations-old treaty especially now were anything but positive.
Once again, the princess would be tasked with informing her sister of something that she definitely did not want to.
"Fantastic," the ambassador had almost reached a full smile. "I knew that I could count on you, Princess Anna."
Anna could only nod.
Balan raised his knife and tapped at the chalice at last and - despite that fact that he still had not taken a single additional bite of lamb - the princess did not try to interrupt him.
The two servants rushed in and exchanged old plates for new, presenting the diners with a hefty slice of dark cake each.
As he always did, the ambassador said something complimentary about the dish's decadent composition and surely excellent flavor, but Anna could barely hear him.
She took a distracted bite.
It might have been the worst chocolate that she had ever tasted.