By the end of dessert, both of the plates in the dining hall were empty for the first time in the meal. Anna had wolfed her share of chocolate cake down in anxious anticipation of the meeting's end; Balan taken his at an only slightly slower pace with a satisfied smile new on the edges of his lips.
"I should go check on Elsa," Anna began to excuse herself immediately after the ambassador had finished his slice. The princess looked at the man for formal permission and he gave it with a nod.
"Of course," Balan rose his chalice for a final swig and gulped the wine down until it was all gone. The cup returned to the table with a metallic thud. "I would join you, but I must go into town before nightfall. I would like to send of my predicament to Geralde. I am nearly two days late already, after all."
"I see," Anna agreed, but she really just wanted to leave. The weight of the meeting had finally settled upon the princess and she was now desperate to see her sister.
Anna felt guilty for making the decision to affirm the treaty's mandates to the ambassador so hastily. She hated making decisions hastily in general ever since the Hans incident. Even though the princess recognized that her action was in truth choice-less - as Arendelle obviously would not go back on its commitment to Geralde - she still had a terrible feeling about the whole business, like she had messed up yet again in some huge way.
Somewhere deep down, Anna knew that she was wrong - that her choice had truly meant very little - but there was something about the situation that unnerved her. The princess's skin tingled and she suspected that the only cure would be discussing it all with Elsa.
"We're off," Balan announced as he wiped his lip with his tongue. He allowed Anna to rise from her seat before standing himself.
The ambassador smiled contentedly as he and Anna strolled to the front of the dining hall. Around them, servants stole out of side doors and went to work returning the room to its normal state immediately, stacking placemats in their arms and pulling the drapes away from the windows.
Orange evening light snapped through the glass and covered the room and all of a sudden the theater of the grand meeting was gone. Even so, Balan did not pass up his last chance to speak with his trademark dramatic flourish.
"Do not forget to tell the queen of our talk," he concealed the order with a brassy tone. "Mention to her that I would greatly enjoy meeting with her, as well, though I will be returning to Geralde as soon as I have recovered for obvious reasons."
"Right," Anna answered distractedly. She was more focused on the fact that they had almost reached the wide front door by then than their conversation. "I wouldn't worry, though. Elsa won't turn her back on an ally," the princess continued. "She's like that."
Balan grunted thoughtfully, reserving his spoken response until the two of them had emerged out into the hallway. Even from just the vague sound, it was clear that he was not yet fully satisfied.
"I know," the ambassador calculated, weighing his options before deciding what to say next. "I only wish to make sure. Please do not think me insulting, but Queen Elsa's backing in particular is vital to the issue. You understand."
Anna nodded, but she was not entirely sure that she did.
"Fantastic," Balan beamed just as broadly as he had when he greeted the princess in the same position hours before. "Goodnight, Princess Anna. I expect that I will see you around the castle sometime in the morning."
"Goodnight," Anna echoed with as much enthusiasm as she could muster at the unpleasant reminder. She had almost forgotten that the ambassador was staying in the castle.
Balan stood still and forced the young woman to make the first move like it were some sort of test. She turned in one direction and murmured, "bye," again before taking off for the infirmary.
Anna thought that she could almost feel the ambassador's eyes on her back as she went, but when she looked back as she ducked into a side hallway he was barely visible - a faraway speck barreling towards the nearest courtyard exit.
The princess shook her head of thoughts of the odd man and proceeded.
No one could look away from Dee. The guardsmen behind the widow gaped at her harsh voice; Elsa under the sheet watched as attentively as possible through sleepy eyes; Kai at the bedside shivered with a simultaneous dread and interest. Even the ever-curious doctor peered out of his office door in the back of it all, anxiously awaiting whatever was to come next.
Mere mention of information concerning the Dark Mage would have gotten anyone in Arendelle's attention, but Dee's recent history and the sheer severity of her tone certainly did not hurt in building interest.
"Please, go on," Elsa urged in response to the widow's offer. As Isaac had anticipated, the queen was just as eager as anyone else to hear what the other woman had to say.
"Yes, Queen Elsa," Dee looked down for a moment, breaking eye contact with Elsa and staring instead at the blanket below her face that covered her wrapped frame. "I must warn you, however, that my information is nothing good."
"What's wrong?" Elsa rasped, studying the widow's face - for the first time plainly before her, unhidden by the shadows of the dungeon. The queen could suddenly see the tear stains across the woman's cheeks, invisible to anyone who was not truly looking. A worry that she could not explain mounted deep in her stomach.
It was strange. Elsa felt like she should have known what was bothering Dee, but she did not. All she knew was that something was different from how it had been on the night of the festival. The pain on the widow's cheeks was even heavier - more personal, hidden in plain sight by the dried wrinkles - and it pressed her into a noticeably abnormal quietude.
Despite her muted qualities, the widow still looked oddly confident, like she had a specific goal in mind with every action and was determined to achieve each one individually.
Her latest sure movement was to reach into her cloak, a gesture that Martin instantly reacted to with a flinch and panicked cry from her side.
"Hey-"
But the widow merely pulled her small book out of the folds of her cloak. She waved it in the direction of the vigilant guardsman casually as if to prove its meagerness and then held it out in front of her so that the bedridden queen could see its cover.
Martin glared sideways at Isaac, who shrugged helplessly in response.
"Daniel and the Dark Mage," Dee presented the storybook. It was a plain affair - the title engraved white upon a stark black binding that secured a handful of pages befitting the legend. "Have you read it?"
Martin snapped back to attention at the widow's words. He gave a quiet but nevertheless uncharacteristic scoff at the sight of the book.
Elsa shot the guardsman a questioning glance before focusing back on Dee, who had not even acknowledged the protest in the slightest. "The castle library doesn't have a copy," the queen said, "but I believe I've seen it mentioned before. It's one of the oldest stories featuring the Dark Mage, is it not?"
"Correct," Dee nodded. "The oldest, in fact - the first written account of his existence."
The guardsmen exchanged another look at the widow's final word. They were both familiar with the story (and had indeed seen the Dark Mage in the flesh), but there was still something odd about thinking of the villain as a reality. For so long he had just been a story.
"It tells of the Dark Mage's possession of a great knight," Dee explained, speaking to the queen directly. "Daniel, his name is. The mage corrupts Daniel from within - he turns him against his family, his friends... even his own kingdom."
An unspoken understanding passed between the women, but Elsa's realization was interrupted by another outburst from Martin.
"It's not real, though," the guardsman insisted, talking out of turn for what was most likely the second time in his life. His voice had surpassed its usual squeakiness and he looked more nervous than defiant. "It's just some legend."
Elsa glared up at her alleged defender again, her eyes lingering this time to make her point clear. Beside him, she could see the two other men's sympathetic faces, as well.
"I'm sorry, Queen Elsa," Martin's sweating intensified as he shrunk into himself with a brief bow. "I don't like that story," he murmured to no one.
"A few days ago, everyone would have dismissed the Dark Mage himself as 'some legend'," Elsa reminded the rest of the widow's skeptical audience. "However we all saw him right there in front of us. I don't think we're in the position to be discounting anything at the moment," she finished and was once again watching the widow. "You're suggesting that the Dark Mage that we saw was-"
"Merely a host, yes," Dee answered a prompt that was not really there.
"I see."
"And I don't base my information only on 'legends', either," Dee continued stubbornly. "I'm sure that I am correct. I'm not just suggesting that the Dark Mage that attacked Arendelle Castle was a man possessed - I'm saying that I know exactly who that man was."
The observers in the room grew completely still, even Martin now fully silenced by his surprise.
"You... you do?" Elsa asked shakily.
A latent pain reappeared in the widow's eyes and the beginning of tears welled on her lashes. Both Isaac and Elsa - experienced in the widow's fits - expected Dee to start wailing, but she did not. When the tears did break free from her eyes, they were only accompanied by a sorrowful mumbling.
"Oh, Queen Elsa."
Elsa gulped at the address and her throat burned appropriately.
"What is it?" the queen tried to keep her voice level in an attempt to soothe the woman. Not knowing what had upset the widow in the first place made things difficult. "What's wrong?"
Dee took a deep, faltering breath that caught half-way through. When she finally opened her mouth, her voice came muffled through a veil of tears. "I arrived home today to find my son, Ron, missing," she admitted with a slight gasp. "This was on his bed."
The widow cracked open her book carefully and a single loose page dropped from it, sliding into her ready free hand. She placed the paper gingerly on the cover, almost cradling its single ripped edge.
"It's the last page," Dee explained sadly. Tears fell from her cheeks and onto the page below as she read the printed words over for the hundredth time that day. "The Knight was consumed by the magic which he had been powerless to unleash," she recited, "and the Dark Mage, too, was devoured by his own flames."
With trembling hands, Dee flipped the paper over to reveal a hand-written message on its back.
"I'm sorry," the widow read breathlessly. Without looking up, she explained. "It's Ron's handwriting."
The audience waited in stunned silence. All of them suspected what the widow was trying to say, but no one wanted to speak. They all held out hope that they had made some sort of terrible error in perception.
However, Dee quickly made herself clear.
"It was him!" she shrieked suddenly and before Elsa's very eyes the hysteric widow of the dungeon reappeared with her slobbering and her shuddering and her volume. The page rippled and crumpled in her grip. "It was him! Ron was the Dark Mage's host!"
Elsa drew her head back into a wince at the widow's declaration, her eyes widened in shock. She murmured something - an unintelligible mix between an exclamation and some sort of comfort for the woman. It took a few seconds for her to come up with a real, appropriate response.
"You can't know that-"
"It was him, Queen Elsa!" Dee huffed, shaking her head from side to side in a rhythm that was reflected in her voice. " It was him!"
Both Martin and Isaac took a guilty step away from the widow's chair to distance themselves from the ensuing cries. Kai took his handkerchief from a front pocket and offered it to the widow, who blew her nose into it like a trumpet. The physician crept back into his office, suddenly embarrassed to have been eavesdropping.
Everyone in the infirmary gave Dee her moment. They all hoped that the wails would taper off, but quiet never came.
"Dee," Elsa finally stammered above the noise after a full minute, her tone concerned. She suspected that if she did not speak up, the other woman may never stop crying. "Try to calm down. Please."
Dee's sobs quieted slightly on command - at least enough so that conversation could barely be held over them - and she looked at the queen through a waterfall of tears.
"We can't know that your son was possessed by the Dark Mage," Elsa proceeded carefully, unsure of her own thoughts but nevertheless attempting to soothe the widow. "Perhaps he just left to-"
"No," Dee shook her head violently now, sending her ponytailed hair whipping through the air. "The house looked like it had been deserted. No one had been there in days - not since I left. All the food was rotting. The only thing that had even moved was one of William's old cloaks," she paused grimly. "It was gone."
The whole sickroom held its breath.
"I just have a terrible feeling, Queen Elsa," Dee's voice remained shrill and phlegm-filled as she spoke. "I know for sure that it was him. I know. It all makes sense. It's not only the legend or the note - that's just the key."
"The key?" Elsa asked shyly, not fully expecting an answer from the other woman's tapering sadness.
Dee blinked away tears and her breathing started to normalize. She gave a hefty sniffle before answering in a less-than-level tone.
"Ron hasn't been himself lately," the widow said, speaking unsteadily on the edge of devastation and trancelike recollection. "He's had a fever for weeks. None of the normal cures have worked at all. He's been angry, too. Very angry - all the time. Ron used to be such a sweet boy..." Dee shivered. "I thought that he was just upset after William's death-"
Elsa was suddenly conscious of her bandages as her muscles underneath pressed against them painfully, tightening of their own accord.
"-but now it all makes sense. It's just like what happened to Daniel when he got possessed - the symptoms are identical," Dee seemed to emerge from her memories and was looking at Elsa in earnest again. "It all makes sense."
The widow wiped her face with Kai's now-damp handkerchief before holding the torn page upright between herself and the bed so that the two hand-written words were displayed plainly to the queen.
"Ron left this for a reason," Dee declared with a reemerging confidence. "It was the Dark Mage who attacked the castle, not him. There must have been some part of him still there after the possession - some part that left this page, that wrote these words."
Elsa was struck by the other woman's belief. All of the evidence was there - the illness, the change in mood, the stolen cloak, the disappearance, the message - but it all seemed so unbelievable. Then again, everything about the Dark Mage had seemed unbelievable before Elsa saw him with her own eyes; felt his flames on her own skin. Still, absent Dee's conviction, the queen probably would not have even been able to consider the scenario.
"Ron wanted me to figure out what happened," Dee continued with absolute certainty. Her hand dropped back into her lap and she tucked the stray paper into her copy of Daniel and the Dark Mage before raising the book itself into the air. "This is the key to figuring everything out. I know it is."
Martin, Isaac, and Kai all looked at the queen in the same moment, afraid to speak the question that was painted across all three of their faces.
"You're talking about the similarities between the story and what happened at the festival," Elsa started to answer them knowingly, though she was still looking at the widow. "That's the key, right? Ron's behavior and the attack on the castle are clear links, but if we read into it there could be even more," the queen coughed, her throat weakening again under strain. She finished quickly. "If the two really line up, then we might be able to make other connections."
"Exactly," Dee nodded in satisfaction. Her tears had become dry on her cheeks once more and her tempestuous emotions had swung back to the calm end of the spectrum. "If you want to know more about the Dark Mage, then I think Daniel and the Dark Mage is where you need to look. I haven't read this in many years," the woman waved the book slightly, "but I'm sure there's something in here that can be of use. Where the Dark Mage comes from - what he wants."
Even though she understood the widow's reasoning, Elsa still could not allow herself to be completely convinced.
As if the universe had sensed her doubt, Dee continued.
"Queen Elsa, you told me that we were going to help each other figure out our problems," the woman returned the book to her lap, lowering any distraction from her line of sight to the queen as they locked eyes. Elsa could see the plea in her pupils. "I know this wasn't exactly what you meant, but I think that there's something to this. This is important to me. I have to know what happened to Ron. I have to," the widow paused to let it all sink in for a few seconds. "I came because I wanted to share this information with you, but even if you don't believe in what I'm saying... Will you help me? For my sake?"
The three men waited for the queen's response. She felt like she was waiting for it, too.
Elsa remembered her conversation with the widow in the dungeon those nights ago - remembered the undeniable kinship she had felt with the woman who by all means should have been her enemy. She sensed their connection again in their intense eye contact and knew that the two of them understood each other in a way that no one else did - perhaps that no one else could.
As she had anticipated, Elsa's answer arrived without her input. "Yes," she croaked. "Of course, I will-"
The queen's voice stopped and devolved into hacking that shook her restricted body, eliciting several groans amidst the coughs and summoning the physician back into the infirmary.
The doctor pushed past the spectators before turning to address them from close to the bedside. "She needs more water," he declared somewhat redundantly.
"Right away," Kai grabbed the empty glass from the nearby table and was off for the kitchen in an instant.
"This is probably too much excitement for someone in her condition," the physician continued once the servant had left. "I understand that these are important matters," he cleared his throat - realizing that he had just let on that he had been listening the whole time - before adding quickly, "but I would suggest that you wait until morning."
"Yes," Dee agreed with a tinge of disappointment. "Yes, that would probably be for the best."
On the bed, Elsa finally was able to stifle her coughs.
"Isaac?" she rasped with great effort.
Isaac looked surprised and then nervous in rapid succession. He looked at his friend for reassurance, but found only a blank stare. The doctor rolled his eyes as the young guardsman took the few steps to approach the bed and arrive at his anticipated judgment.
"Yes?" Isaac asked meekly.
"Take... Mrs. Daleon," Elsa struggled, "to... a guest room... for the night..."
"Yes, Queen Elsa," Isaac accepted the order with a sort of wonder. The fact that the queen trusted him with a task - despite its relative insignificance - was enough to convince him that the risk of bringing Dee to the infirmary had been fully worth it.
The queen must have forgiven him for his incompetency at the festival.
There was the small detail that Isaac did not know where any of the guest rooms were, but he would figure that out eventually. In the meantime, he turned and nodded to his charge, who rose from the visitors' chair.
"Thank you, Queen Elsa," Dee said, tucking her book back into her belt underneath her cloak. "I'll see you tomorrow."
Elsa smiled in response. "Tomorrow," the queen confirmed painfully.
It was worth it to see the widow's lips turn up slightly, too, as the young guardsman led her out of the infirmary.
Anna practically ran into Kai in her rush towards the sickroom, almost knocking the recently-filled cup out of his hands as they simultaneously turned onto the infirmary hallway.
"Sorry! Sorry!"
"Not a problem, Princess Anna," Kai forgave the princess with a faint smile after he had recovered his balance.
Anna glanced down at the nearly-spilled water and instantly realized what it meant. "Elsa's awake again?"
"Yes," Kai bit the side of his cheek nervously for some reason. "Her throat is still in bad shape," he stated simply, leaving whatever else it was that was clearly on his mind unsaid.
At Kai's gesture, the two proceeded towards their shared goal, but Anna noticed that the servant said nothing more. He did not even ask about her meeting with the ambassador. They reached the infirmary door in silence and Kai stepped forward to hold it open.
"Elsa!" Anna cried as she burst through the entrance for the second time that day.
For a split second, the princess could see that all three of the sickroom's occupants - the doctor, Martin, and Elsa herself - were sharing in Kai's quiet contemplation. The tension was gone as soon as she was noticed at the door, but Anna could tell that something had happened in her absence that had sent her company deep into thought.
She was not entirely sure just how eager she was to know what it was.
"Anna," Elsa rasped pitifully. Her eyes were for a moment bright upon the princess before they quickly went to the cup in Kai's hand with thirst. The servant hurried over to the bedside, where the physician still hovered, and tipped the water into the queen's mouth.
"How are you holding up?" Anna asked as she moved to her habitual chair, sharing a short nod with Martin as she passed him.
Elsa gurgled slightly as she finished the water and Kai lifted the cup from her lips.
"Thank you," the queen's voice sounded scratchy, but she could talk with only mild discomfort now. Kai smiled at her and took a few steps back. Elsa's eyes fluttered to focus on Anna again. "I'm fine."
"Again, Queen Elsa, I question your definition of the word 'fine'," the doctor protested. "Your throat will never recover if you keep straining it so much. You're lucky that I saved you from that woman earlier. She didn't seem the sort to give you much rest-"
"Woman?" Anna interrupted, hopelessly confused.
Elsa sighed and her chest burned dully with the movement.
"I understand," she addressed the doctor. "I promise I'll give the talking a break right after I speak with Anna."
The physician, too, sighed. "If you must," he conceded. "I will be in the office."
"Wait, what woman was he talking about?" the princess demanded from the side.
Elsa's head tilted ever so slightly back in her sister's direction. "Mrs. Daleon paid me a visit during your meeting," she divulged. Her voice was weak, but its underlying tone left no question as to what it was that she and the others had been thinking about prior to Anna's arrival.
"What? Mrs. Daleon, Mrs. Daleon?"
"The very same."
"I thought that you had Martin take her home."
"He did," Elsa said. "She came back."
"Why?"
The queen hesitated and for a moment her face tightened again as she reflected. "She had information about the Dark Mage," she recalled.
"What? No way."
Elsa would have nodded were it not for the burns.
"What did she say?"
Again, the queen had to make a conscious effort to consolidate her thoughts. In as few words as she could (as a courtesy to the physician and her own mind), Elsa explained her latest encounter with the widow. Anna sat silently as she was told of eerie storybooks and mysterious notes and missing sons.
Much like her sister's initial reaction, the princess found herself doubting at first, but she could see that, despite her conflicted appearance, Elsa had started to believe the tale just as much as Dee. There was no question in her words - she stated every word of the widow's testimony as fact. With the queen's reserved impression, Anna began to see the pieces fall into place herself.
After she had finished with the retelling of Dee's account, Elsa finally left a pause long enough for her sister to speak up.
"Are you sure about this?" Anna took the chance to ask, the last of her uncertainty boiling to the surface timidly. Usually Elsa was the one questioning her schemes. "I mean, reading the book to find out more about the Dark Mage?"
"Yes," Elsa declared, and even with her raspy voice it was plain to see that she was quite sure. "Mrs. Daleon is a friend," she explained. Anna raised her eyebrows imperceptibly, but bit her tongue, remembering what her sister had told her of the widow earlier in the day. To be fair, she had never heard the queen call anyone a friend before. "Even if there's nothing to this - and I think there just might be - it's important to her, so it's important to me."
The last of the princess's skepticism left her when she saw the sureness in Elsa's face.
"I understand," Anna said proudly - a little victory. "I think I do, at least," the sisters smiled at each other.
"We're set to begin reading tomorrow," Elsa continued. "Between that and Kristoff's meeting with the trolls, we should be able to make some headway as to the Dark Mage's intentions," the queen paused. "I had Isaac take Mrs. Daleon to a guest room in the castle for the night. Hopefully she will be able to bear sharing a wing with Ambassador Balan until morning."
Anna erupted into giggles and everyone else in the room - including the doctor listening from the office - could not help but let out a few stifled chuckles themselves. The mood of the infirmary had been lifted - its occupants all reassured by the queen's newfound confidence and light-heartedness, a definite shift from her usual attitude lately.
"Tell me about the meeting," Elsa said once the laughing had begun to die down. "Was it as important as he said it was?"
The question put a true end to Anna's giggling immediately.
"Unfortunately, yes," the princess admitted gravely.
Now it was Elsa's turn to listen to her sister's story. Anna spoke to the spectacle of the feast and the ceremony of Ambassador Balan himself, ever tiptoeing around the actual content of the meeting. Finally, she reached the pre-dessert conversation and tried especially hard to recall what exactly had been said.
"So he just wanted to make sure that we would uphold the Treaty of the Sixth?" Elsa asked once the princess had finished, sounding rather confused again.
"I think so," Anna replied, though she was unsure herself.
"Surely there's something more to it," Elsa was almost talking to herself, a quiet mumble. "But what?"
"I'm sorry that I gave him an answer without asking you, I just assumed-"
"No, no, no," Elsa stopped her sister before she could finish and tried to force an encouraging smile. "You did great, Anna," she said truthfully. "I'm so proud."
The words hit Anna with an impact, freeing her of the worry that had buzzed in her head since the feast. "Thanks," the princess blushed and averted her eyes. It took a few moments for her to recover herself. "So, um, I gave him the right answer, then?"
"Yes," Elsa answered without hesitation. She tended to be quite self-assured when it came to her duties as queen. "Of course, I would rather a peaceful solution, but Arendelle will always follow through with its commitments."
Again, the woman's words were weighty, though this time it was for a very different reason. A heavy silence fell upon the infirmary for a time.
"Queen Elsa?" Kai was the one to interrupt the noiselessness from his position at the bedside.
"Yes?"
"I believe that an ambassador from Ceverra is in Arendelle as we speak," the servant said. "I was unaware with the situation with Geralde, but he has come to the castle and requested your audience every day since the festival."
"I see," the political gears started to turn in Elsa's head.
"I'll meet with him," Anna volunteered, though the reluctance was clear in her voice.
"I wouldn't sentence you to that again," the queen teased. Her eyes moved onto Kai. "Get the message to him that he will have his audience as soon as I am well. Make sure that he knows that we have been informed of Ceverra's actions - maybe that will be enough to keep them from acting too rashly until I can talk to him."
"Yes, Queen Elsa," the servant stood straight up. "I will go to the inn and find him right away."
"Good idea. Thank you," Elsa dismissed Kai. He left the infirmary in his usual dutiful hurry.
A yawn from Anna brought the queen's attention back to her sister.
"Still haven't caught up on your sleep, I see."
"I think you've been getting enough for the both of us."
One laugh was again significantly lighter than the other. Regardless, Anna's was cut short by another involuntary yawn.
"You should get to bed," Elsa warned after a while.
"I'm enjoying our time together," Anna pouted in an only half-joking manner.
"The doctor said I should be resting my voice anyway," the queen contended. Admittedly, she was already tired, too, considering all of the excitement and her interrupted nap. "We'll both get some rest. I promise I'll wake up in the morning and we'll spend plenty of time together, alright?"
"But-"
Elsa did not even have to say anything to stop her sister - her look said it all.
"Fine," the princess surrendered. "I don't want to, though."
"I know."
Anna dropped her shoulders melodramatically as she left the visitor's chair, eliciting a faint snicker from the queen.
"Goodnight, Anna," Elsa offered.
"Goodnight," the younger sister echoed, but she was looking directly at Martin as she spoke. The guardsman returned the sentiment with a smirk and a quick nod. "Oh, you too, Elsa," Anna added wryly before stealing one last look at the bedridden queen from the door.
Satisfied with the broad smile she got in return, Anna took her leave.
The door to the post office swung open with a lonely ding as Balan emerged from the tiny shop and into the night. Darkness had fully descended upon Arendelle while he had ensured his Geralde-bound letter's imminent delivery, filling the streets with a black fog that reflected its mood much better than the bright sun had previously.
Recognizing - and indeed fairly intimidated by - the ambassador's prestige and scarred face, the postmaster had lent his late-night customer a lantern for the journey back to the castle after business had been completed. Balan gripped it close as he went on his way, as if there was a chance of he himself getting lost in the blackness without the gas-lit flame's confirmation.
Considering how near he held the lantern, the man ran the definite risk of running into something if it were to suddenly appear before him in the void, but he paid no mind to such worries. He heard not a sound other than his own shuffling footsteps and assumed that the town was just as empty as it had been when he had arrived to the post office - just as empty as it had been all day.
It was not until Balan had turned a few corners towards the castle that his understanding of his unlit surroundings were challenged.
"Hello, Ambassador Balan," a snarl to his left pierced the night with enough force to make the ambassador jump. He did not jump often.
"Who's there?" Balan called out with an embarrassed anger, finally swinging the lantern outwards in the direction of the noise. Its light left him behind and illuminated an alley between two shops.
Leaning against one of the buildings, a wiry man held up an arm in response to the spotlight. His skin was pale and his uniform - and it was a uniform - a deep, contrasting red. Balan wondered how he had not seen his stalker before even with the oppressive darkness.
"You were supposed to say hello back," the man sneered.
Balan watched the enigma critically. He did not look to be one of the townspeople - no, he wore the dress of a fellow diplomat. His posture looked distinctly familiar - his arched back elicited an odd sense of nostalgia - but the ambassador could not place him. Balan's strength was in observation, not memory. The ambassador drew his lantern back into himself, hoping that his counterpart would lower his hand from his face and more clearly reveal his identity.
"You don't remember me," came a flat realization, but, as soon as the man had lowered his arm away from the reduced brightness, recognition swept over Balan.
"Vasili," Balan spat the name. His continuing proper tone did little to disguise his distaste for the Ceverran ambassador - even less than usual considering the other man's political deftness. "You must excuse me. It's a bit dark."
Vasili laughed. His chuckle was calculatedly perfect, just like Balan's would have been if he were to have joined him.
"So it is," the skinny ambassador agreed.
It was a wonder that Balan remembered the other man at all. On account of their nations' shared animosity, the ambassadors of Geralde and Ceverra had not met in nearly a decade. The former had reached out to its neighbor a few times over the years for summit, but every request had been ignored.
The two representatives had only seen each other in passing since the suspension of relations; grudgingly shaking hands at a foreign wedding here, reluctantly sitting across from each other at a grand feast there. Even though they were virtual strangers (mere acquaintances before the overt estrangement), the men were far from friendly.
"What are you doing here?" Balan asked. He now balanced the lantern's light between them, revealing them both in the beams. His eyes now began to acclimate to the darkness out of necessity and he could see that the streets were just as deserted as he had assumed excepting his fellow ambassador. "Decided to desert? I suppose that indeed even the damp alleys of Arendelle are better than anything you would find in Ceverra."
Vasili again chuckled faultlessly at the jab. "Not quite," his speech silenced his own laughs with a tone of raw authority. "I'm actually here on business."
"I would hate to imagine what sort of business they have you doing over there," Balan gestured to the small space behind the other man, cracking a smile.
This time, Vasili did not find the comment very funny. The sound of his annoyed grunt reminded Balan that the Ceverran ambassador had always had quite the temper back when they still met on occasion.
"I was originally in Arendelle to attend the Royal Festival, but I now find myself with a new mission," Vasili breathed out his frustration.
"What is it?"
The smaller ambassador shook his head and ignored the question.
"I am only over here because I knew it would be difficult to catch you off guard," Vasili continued nonchalantly.
"You were waiting for me?" Balan had to consciously restrain himself from letting on his worry. This was a negotiation, he realized.
"I suppose I was," Vasili teased, the beginnings of a diplomatic grin returning to his lips. "We must talk. Shall I accompany you to the inn?"
"I'm staying at the castle," Balan proudly announced to the other ambassador's full smile.
"I see," Vasili's words slithered through his exposed teeth. "Then it is worse than I thought," he finally pushed himself off of the wall and walked over to the fatter man's side. "It matters not. Carry on."
"Explain yourself," Balan demanded as he started walking. The left side of his body, nearest his unexpected companion, tensed uncontrollably. His voice had been trained not to falter, but his muscles were not so malleable. "What do you want?"
"I want to discuss this little gambit of yours," Vasili stared sideways at the other ambassador, almost skipping alongside the man in his perpetually awful posture.
"I don't know what you are talking about," Balan filtered his tone of emotion. "Care to be a bit more specific?"
"You've been terribly obvious, Ambassador Balan," Vasili continued. "I wouldn't be surprised if Queen Elsa is onto you already. You are Geraldien's finest, so your appearance at such a trivial event as the festival was already suspicious, but that little gift you had for the royal family? Those heroics of yours - unsuccessful as they were - during the party?"
Balan did not have to look to know that the other man's eyes were focused on his scar.
"You didn't come to Arendelle for the Royal Festival," Vasili concluded after a short pause. "You had something else in mind. From the beginning, you were trying to curry up favor with the queen because you wanted to ask her for something."
Balan's pace had slowed with the coarse man's deductions, but he retained his composure otherwise and even managed a smirk. "You're quite the sleuth," he complemented flatly. "However, I'm afraid that my intentions are no secret. I believe that merely asking me would have sufficed," Balan regained his full speed and it was matched by the other ambassador at once. "I primarily came to Arendelle to confirm the Treaty of the Sixth's mandates with the queen. I don't know what you Ceverrans were expecting with that attack of yours, but Geralde will not stand idly by as you-"
"Indeed," Vasili acknowledged the truth with a knowing smile, unfazed by the accusation, "what were we expecting?"
Balan's brow furrowed for an imperceptible moment before he got it back under control. He was not used to being interrupted.
"Everyone knows about the Treaty of the Sixth," Vasili continued. "You can rest assured that we have accounted for the treaty in Ceverra, and it's doubtless that Queen Elsa is quite aware of it as well. Which would beg the question of why you even thought a personal visit to Arendelle was necessary in the first place, especially with the threat of war on the border."
The other ambassador forced back a gulp. By then, the guardsmen posted at the castle bridge were barely visible at the end of the street, their lanterns tiny beacons of light in the distance. He moved towards them as fast as he could, but it still seemed too slow.
"The Treaty of the Sixth's articles have been upheld for years," Vasili stuck to Balan's side as if he were bound by a leash. "Why would anything change now?"
"I-"
"Or perhaps that wasn't your worry," Vasili stopped the flustered man again.
Suddenly, the Ceverran ambassador grasped Balan's arm with bony fingers, somehow pulling his formidable form to a full halt a ways away from the bridge. Finally, the large man turned to face his counterpart.
"I don't know what you're talking about," Balan spat.
"Maybe," Vasili shrugged almost playfully. "All I know is that you've been in Arendelle for four days and you still aren't satisfied with whatever 'confirmation' you've gotten on the treaty. That suggests to me that you have further aspirations."
"Further aspirations?"
"You want something other than just the articles," Vasili clarified. He watched his opponent's eyes, seeking a break in their depths. "And I think I know what that something is."
Balan tried to keep his composure. He recognized the skinny man's searching look.
"We both know that Geralde barely stands a chance against the Ceverran army even with the help of Arendelle's pitiful forces," Vasili pressed. "You're desperate for something to tip the scales in your favor beyond the treaty, and you've found it in quite the convenient place, haven't you? I suspect that you want-"
"You're wrong," Balan insisted fiercely and the other ambassador got his break. The large man's face flared with anger - an accidental indication that Vasili would have been quite right.
Balan would have liked to say that the significantly smaller man did not scare him. His thin, curved spine should have been unintimidating to the ambassador, but for some reason he felt distinctly unnerved. The brutal essence of Geralde's neighbors lay bare across Vasili's face. By the lantern's light, he could see the Ceverran spirit in the man's crude eyes.
The shimmering orbs looked hungry, and the worst part was that Balan could not place what exactly it was that they were hungry for.
The skinny man grinned in triumph. "I'm unconvinced," he taunted.
"I think that's enough," the larger ambassador said in a voice that was a murmur by his standards.
Balan easily pulled free of Vasili's weak grasp and started slowly for the castle once more. He took the lantern with him, pulling the light away from the other ambassador.
"Give up now, Ambassador Balan," Vasili warned through the blackness.
He paused for a moment as if he were waiting for a response before calling again.
"You asked what my new mission was," the small man offered his counterpart's shrinking back. "Would you really like to know?"
Balan reluctantly stopped, refusing to turn but making his answer clear.
"It's to put an end to your little scheme," Vasili declared loudly. "I had hoped that we could resolve this like gentlemen-"
The Geraldien ambassador started walking again and he was quickly at the castle bridge, nodding to the familiar guards as he passed.
Back on the street, Vasili was left talking to himself, his voice dropped to a whisper.
"-but perhaps alternative action is necessary after all."
Anna's eyes were drooping with the desire of sleep by the time that she reached her bedroom. Even though she had slept late that morning, the princess was still irresistibly tired - a function of the stress of the meeting and her previous sleep deprivation.
She wasted no time finally pulling off her fine dress and slipping into pajamas. Her body almost felt numb as she started shuffling over to her bed, ready to fall into the pillows and blankets and warmth and-
Anna's foot collided with something hard on the ground.
"Ouch!" the princess shouted, tripping forward and meeting the pillows and blankets and warmth sooner than expected. On account of her throbbing toe, they were not as accommodating as she had hoped.
Anna groaned and pulled her foot close to cradle it, simultaneously cursing and laughing at her clumsiness as she did.
Finally, once the discomfort had dulled, the princess groaned and rose from the bed, awakened by the pain and the sensation of her short fall itself.
She instantly saw what had tripped her. It was the copy of Sea of Love that she had taken from the library. Anna vague remembered having knocked it off of the bed when she had woken up that morning. The princess had almost forgotten about it in the events of the day - forgotten of her desire to reread the book and hopefully discover why she had caught Elsa reading such fluff.
"Won't be sleeping for a while now anyway," she mumbled to herself as she returned to the bed with the novel in hand.
The princess sat atop the mountain of fabric and opened the book in her lap, deciding to read until she eventually felt like falling asleep again.
Anna breezed through the first few chapters before so much as yawning.
Sea of Love was exactly how she had remembered. She had read it several times over the years, considering it since her young teens as a paragon of fiction. In fact, it was her favorite book - exactly the kind of idealized, love-at-first-sight romance that she had always enjoyed and even wished for until recently.
However, as the princess skimmed the passages - a few of which she knew by heart - she still could not even begin to imagine what had possessed Elsa to read them. It was strange to even think of her sister seeking out such a novel.
Nevertheless, there was hard evidence of the queen's readership throughout. Anna saw that certain words that had been circled in pencil - things like 'love', 'adoration', 'affection' - and could even read a few annotations written in Elsa's unreadable shorthand.
As the story progressed, the pages held more and more intricate scribbles and memos. Words were connected by tenuous, oft-erased lines to unclear notes; ideas jotted in the margins illegibly. Occasionally, the princess would reach a leaf with more lead than ink - long paragraphs of what she assumed to be analysis trailing parallel to the printed text.
To Anna the markings began to look almost like an unsolved jigsaw puzzle - apparently one that her sister had been very keen on trying to solve.
"Sea of Love isn't that complicated," the princess whispered her concerned thoughts aloud. "What were you looking for, Elsa?"