Summary: After years of solitude, Elsa now seeks to be the queen Arendelle deserves. But when Arendelle is invaded by a Southern King who is intent on deposing Elsa and claiming Arendelle, Elsa must muster all her courage to protect her country, and herself.
Chapter Eight
- The Headsman -
The pre-dawn dark hovered over the palace as Aedan cantered over the bridge and into the courtyard. It rained still, although now it was only a drizzle compared to the torrent it had been an hour before. His lord father waited by the palace steps, hunched over in his cloak. He left the marshalling to Matrim and his officers, only interjecting when he felt the need. Lord Beoulve spotted Elsa first; he pointed and barked the order for soldiers to attend to her. Then his eyes fell on Aedan, and his mouth tightened.
A litter was brought out from the palace, and a pair of soldiers laid Elsa onto it. The queen of Arendelle hardly stirred – Aedan suspected it had far more to do with her exhaustion than the injuries she had sustained during the escape attempt.
Aedan dismounted after and was forced to clutch Roach's saddle to stop his legs from giving way beneath him.
"Return the queen to her bedchamber, and see that Steiner looks over her before you leave," Lord Beoulve ordered the soldiers.
One of the soldiers nodded yet had the nerve to question. "You mean return her to the dungeons?"
The look Lord Beoulve levelled at him was stern enough to wither. "Do you believe I misspoke?"
The soldier swallowed. "No, Ser. . . . I only thought."
His companion nudged him, then said, "As you command, my Lord." Together, they lifted Elsa in her litter and took off in a lumbering trot towards the palace.
Lord Beoulve shifted his attention to Aedan. "Do you suppose I misheard King Maximilian when he instructed you to return to the palace?"
"No, my Lord," Aedan said.
"I thought not." Lord Beoulve took in Aedan's dishevelled state as well as the tremor in his legs and arms. "Return to your chamber and pray that your recovery of Elsa outweighs your foolish disobedience."
It was clearly a dismissal, and one filled with such disappointment it made Aedan squirm like he was ten years old again. There was no word of pride, or commendation for being the one to return Elsa. It still stung, even after so many years of little else.
Aedan lingered long enough to ensure Roach was taken by one of the stablehands, then returned to his room in the palace. His breakfast had already been delivered, thank the Almighty. A serving bowl piled to the brim with honey and apple spiced porridge. He only paused long enough to shed his soaked clothes before tucking in.
Maximilian's page boy knocked on his door not long afterwards.
"Yes?" Aedan called out as he pushed the empty bowl away. The cave in his stomach was quiet now, and all Aedan wanted to do was sleep.
"Ser Aedan?" the page stammered as he entered. He was young, barely ten – eleven at most. He wore a red sash, and a badge decorated with a gold griffon over his uniform. "The king has returned."
"Yes," Aedan agreed. "I heard the trumpets from the window."
"King Maximilian wishes to speak with you. 'Immediately', he said."
Aedan's nerves pricked; with a regretful glance at his bed, he stood. "Where is he?"
"In his bedchamber, Ser. I'm to take you to him." He hesitated, then added. "His Majesty said I'm not to leave unless you're with me."
Aedan exhaled, but it did nothing to ease his discomfort. "Then who am I to keep my king waiting?"
The bedchamber Maximilian had appropriated from the deceased king and queen of Arendelle was grand – the largest and most magnificent in the palace. The roof curved with the walls in a sweeping dome painted with portraits of bluebirds in flight over the beautiful fjord Arendelle rested in. Whoever the painter was, he had used such painful and loving detail he would have fit in nicely in Ovelia. A long portrait of the Arendelle royal family hung across the wall opposite the grand four-poster bed. King Agdar and Queen Idun stood on either side of their two daughters, who were both smiling widely. Fake, painted smiles, Aedan thought. He had yet to see a child who was happy to stand for the hours upon hours a portrait took to paint. It was strange to see that portrait still on the wall now that Maximilian had taken over the chambers.
The man guarding the door to Maximilian's chambers stepped aside to let Aedan through and returned his greetings politely. Ser Lambert had protected Maximilian's father for years before he died. He had protected Max's older brothers too – for a time. Ser Lambert's hair was all grey now, and only his whiskers hinted at the fierce black his hair used to be. I could take him . . . if I was at my best, Aedan thought.
Maximilian stood in front of his armour rack, lifting his arms as his squire, little Isaac Ashaela, unbuckled his armour. Dried blood was smeared across Max's face and hair, though Aedan none of it appeared to be his own. Maximilian had never been one to lead from the back.
"I can come back later," Aedan said, half-turning.
"Stay," Maximilian said. Isaac Ashaela finished unbuckling the golden breastplate and pulled it from Maximilian's body. His form-fitting linen shirt was stained with sweat and blood too. Maximilian pulled it over his head and tossed it to the floor. Then he looked at Aedan, his eyes hard. "You disobeyed my command, last night."
"I did," Aedan said, and then swallowed the rest of what he had been about to say at the look on Maximilian's face – it was like Maximilian was looking through him, dissecting and evaluating.
"Leave us." Maximilian waved his hand at Isaac Ashaela and Ser Lambert.
"Your Majesty!" Ser Lambert's voice rose in protest.
"Wait outside, Ser," Maximilian said. "I have nothing to fear from Aedan."
Face unreadable, Ser Lambert nodded and left after Isaac Ashaela, perhaps just to show Aedan what following Maximilian's orders looked like, but he was probably too old to be that petty. When the door was firmly closed behind them, Maximilian walked over to the wash basin and splashed steaming water over his soiled face and hair. "I had barely set foot back in the palace when Isaac came running to tell me your peculiar tale," Maximilian said. "He told me about how you came back over the bridge, with Queen Elsa asleep against your chest." He smirked. "Quite the romantic image. You've done much to make a name for yourself during this campaign. I'm told the soldiers are already singing songs about your victory over Elsa's champion."
"I . . . hadn't heard," Aedan said.
"I'm certain it won't be long until one is composed about your ride to recover Elsa."
"Perhaps after they have finished writing about your ride to re-take the harbour?"
"I fear that tale will not be as pretty as yours," said Maximilian. "It will be months before the Fourth and Fifth legions recover from that battle. We may have out-numbered them ten-to-one, but that mattered little once they turned our own cannons on us. If it weren't for Alexia's sorcery far fewer of us would have returned this morning."
Aedan couldn't reply. He could imagine the terror of that battle vividly. A hundred men could hold that road against a thousand if they positioned themselves . He imagined the Ovelian soldiers clustered together, pushing forward as cannon shot tore through their ranks and ate the ground around them.
Maximilian finished washing and began towelling himself dry. "Whenever things start to go your way, Aedan, you always discover ways to ruin them."
"Sometimes I need to look before I leap, I know," offered Aedan.
Maximilian snorted. "That's putting it mildly. Last night, you disobeyed me on two matters. Not only did you ignore my instruction to remain in the palace last night, but you were also found in Alexia's bed too. Your relationship with Alexia is a small thing. Unfortunate and foolish, but small, nonetheless. As for your midnight ride . . . You are my Herald. I cannot allow you to disobey me and go without punishment. The other lords already believe I allow you too much autonomy."
"I suppose they aren't particularly happy with me."
"Lord Ashaela came first," elaborated Maximilian. "He demanded that you be stripped from your title and exiled. Lord Bastille agreed. Lord Flavian thinks that's far too lenient and demanded that you be hung."
To be expected, really. "And what about Lord Beoulve? What did he say?"
"Very little, while the others were present. Oh, don't look so glum, Aedan. I have no intention of removing you as my herald or banishing from you from Ovelia. I told the lords that you were more than likely to join one of the bandit clans plaguing the Ardern Woods. That alone did not seem to concern them, but considering your . . . relationship with Alexia, she might decide to join you in exile. A man of your talent with a witch at his side is not an enemy the Ashaela, Flavian or Bastille wish to face."
"Alexia wouldn't give up her position at court," Aedan said certainly.
"Perhaps, perhaps not," said Maximilian. "But her time will come one day; she may not have a choice in the matter."
"What does that mean?"
Maximilian waved his hand dismissively. "Ignore the thought – do not concern yourself. We're discussing your fate, not Alexia's. Lord Ashaela eventually saw reason and recommended a public flogging, so the price of defiance can be seen by all. He wants to know that even a man with your reputation is not above commands. I would spare you from that as well, if I could, but the fact remains that if your actions - valiant as they may have been - go unpunished, then my authority as king weakens. When I give you a command Aedan, it must be obeyed. Do you understand me?"
"Yes," said Aedan, sufficiently chastised.
"You will face the rod this evening. Five strikes will be sufficient. You'll bruise but should not scar."
"I . . . thank you, Max."
"If you had not been the one to bring Elsa back. . ." Maximilian shook his head in wonder, and light brightened his eyes once more. "Ornsten came to see me as well. He told me Elsa would be in the hands of a Coronan spy if you had not been with him last night."
"Ornsten's being modest."
"He also emphasised he would be dead too. Ornsten has never been one for embellishment, so I'm forced to believe his word must be true.
"Lord Beoulve and I agree that your gallantry also deserve a reward. For your services for me and the realm, you will kneel before me and rise as Ser Aedan Beoulve. You're being legitimised."
Aedan Beoulve. The name rang in his head like a gong. How long had he dreamed of this? Years? A decade? "Father . . . I mean Lord Beoulve . . . he agreed to this?"
"I agreed," said Maximilian. "It was Lord Beoulve's suggestion.
Aedan gaped.
"A suitable marriage will need to be arranged, of course, but as a legitimised Beoulve there will be no shortage of eligible matches," Maximilian continued. "Lord Ashaela's youngest daughter is still unwed."
Aedan didn't think his mouth could drop any further. "You want me to marry Rosalind Ashaela?" he exclaimed.
"Do you object? Rosalind is quite beautiful. I hear that she has been stirring trouble at court this past year. Emilia tells me that three duels have been fought over her hand in marriage, only for the victor to realise that Rosalind promised him nothing more than a smile and laugh. Though Lord Ashaela may protest the match, he will come around to the idea. I can think of no one worthier for Rosalind than you."
"But what if Rosalind protests?" And what if I protest?
"Emilia also tells me that Rosalind has been rather enamoured with you since you spoke to her at her mother's spring fair." Maximilian grinned at the look of astonishment frozen on Aedan's face. "This is still months away at least. We need to firm our hold on Arendelle before we announce marriages and betrothals."
Aedan smothered his feelings regarding Rosalind Ashaela and the potential arranged marriage down until he could sort through them later. "We have Elsa," he said. "Isn't she the reason we came?"
"I hoped to have Anna too," Maximilian reminded Aedan. "Without her, my grip on Arendelle must be like iron."
"Are you reconsidering your intentions for Elsa then?" Aedan asked.
"Elsa's fate remains unchanged." A note of finality entered Maximilian's voice, and Aedan knew their conversation was over. "Before you go, Aedan. About Alexia. . .."
"Are you going to forbid me from seeing her?"
"I should. You will be better for it," said Maximilian. "If you are wise, you will cut your ties with her now."
Aedan opened his mouth to reply, but Maximilian forestalled him with a raised hand.
"Just . . . think on what I have said," Maximilian said. "Now, leave me. I must rest."
#
When Elsa woke it was sometime before mid-morning. Instead of the cold stones of the dungeon she opened her eyes to her bedroom's curtained four-poster, and a headache that throbbed behind her eyes and temples. Her ankle ached too and was swollen to twice it's normal size.
"Glad to see you awake, your highness," a dry voice noted. Elsa turned her head, and when her vision stopped spinning her eyes fell on a bald man with a smoking pipe clenched between his teeth.
"Who are you?"
The bald man puffed a column of sweet-smelling smoke. "Steiner," he said. "And I have the honour of being King Maximilian's court physician." He held a goblet to Elsa's lips. "Don't be foolish, girl; it's only wine. I would not have spent the morning tending to you, just to poison you now."
Reluctantly, Elsa opened her mouth and drank. The wine was chilled and tasted sweet.
Steiner the physician leaned back on his stool, chewing on his pip-stem. "Now, I'm sure you'll be please to know that your injuries are not serious. Your ankle will hurt for a while, but it is not broken. Rest it, keep it elevated, and avoid walking on it where possible. The wound on your head is minor and will heal quickly. There's a salve. . ." he pointed at a small jar on her bedside table. "Rub some of that on the wound morning and night, and it will heal quickly and won't leave a scar. Other than that, a bath I think – I'll have the girls bring one up for you - and I suggest eating the meals they bring you too. You're looking thin."
He left after that with a puff of smoke and a grumbled farewell. As the door swung behind him, Elsa noticed the coats of several soldiers standing out in the hall.
Gingerly, she rose from her bed and stepped onto the carpet. He ankle spasmed in protest, but it held her weight. A tray of food had been left for her on the table by the window, but Elsa could only pick at it, despite her hunger.
I wonder what happened to Aubert? she thought grimly. That small voice in the back of her mind tried to tuck the thought away, but Elsa forced herself to think about him. He was probably dead, Gudor as well, and it was her fault. She thought about Anna too, and felt a savage pleasure knowing that she, Kristoff and Evangeline had managed to evade Ovelia's clutches.
It was just past midday when there was a knock at her bedroom door, an Ovelian soldier knocked and then entered the bedroom without waiting. Although he wore the same coat as the other soldiers, a badge signifying the rank of officer was pinned to his lapel. His nose wrinkled and he called over his shoulder to one of Elsa's guards. "And tell the girls to hurry with that bath!"
Heat touched Elsa's neck and cheeks. She raised her chin and attempted to look down her nose at the man, who at least had the decency to look sheepish.
"I apologise if that embarrassed you, my lady, but after your time in the dungeons, I suspect a bath is long overdue," the officer said. "My name is Ornsten; I have been charged with overseeing your care whilst we remain in Arendelle."
"My care," Elsa repeated dully. "I spent eight days in the dungeons without anyone considering my care."
"Indeed; we . . . ah . . . regret your treatment thus far – it was not suitable for a person of your position. And I must apologise for my part in that as well." He eyed the bruise above her eye. "You repaid me in kind, for what it's worth."
"You'll forgive me if I don't believe you," Elsa said.
"I don't blame you for not trusting us – we've done little to inspire fidelity with you or your people. Improving our treatment of your is only a small thing, yet I hope it will show you – and Arendelle – that we aren't here to be tyrants."
"Just to depose me and steal my throne," Elsa retorted. "I remember."
Ornsten winced. "I can see why you have adopted that perspective; however, I promise you that the throne will be Anna's – she need only return and take it."
"Spare me your justifications." Elsa rose to her full height, which was difficult to do with her ankle throbbing so. "You can dress up what happened however you please, but the people will never believe you to be liberators. Maximilian is nothing more than a conqueror and a tyrant, and if you think that me or my sister will willingly submit to your king, then you are a fool."
Ornsten stared at her, open-mouthed, and was saved from replying by the arrived of a trio of handmaidens, who carried buckets of hot water. A pair of red-cloaked guards followed them, struggling to balance the heavy hipbath between them. Ornsten watched the guards place the tub roughly on the carpet in front of the fire before ordering the two to wait outside the door while the maids worked.
"You understand," he said to Elsa, with an apologetic smile. He turned to the maids. "Send one of the guards to find me when you have her ready."
The pair of guards followed Ornsten out of the bedroom and closed the door behind them.
Ready for what?
The handmaidens were silent as they helped Elsa undress and put her into the bath. Her hair was doused with jugs of steaming water and cleansed with sweet-smelling oils. When her skin was pink from scrubbing, they guided her out of the path and placed her on a chair by the fireplace. The heat warmed her skin and began to dry her hair. One of the handmaidens gave Elsa a small mirror to hold as her hair was brushed.
Elsa looked into the mirror and could barely contain a gasp of surprise. Her cheeks had begun to sink into her face, making her eyes look bigger and wider than Elsa had ever seen them before. Her bones appeared sharper, with more lines and angles than had been there before.
"It's a shame they're letting you wither away," one of the handmaidens said pityingly, before she was silenced by a stern look from another.
Elsa could not reply, so she sat in dignified silence.
"Hush, she is still more beautiful than many I have seen in my lifetime," one of the Ovelian handmaidens said. She was older than the other two, with streaks of grey painted through her dark hair.
The pair of younger maids shared a glance but remained silent.
When she was dry, the handmaidens helped her into a silvery dress and stood back. The dress felt looser than it had in the past. The older handmaiden had to draw the bodice tight to stop it from slipping down.
"You look very regal, my lady," one of the younger handmaidens said.
Ornsten echoed the sentiment when he returned later that afternoon, carrying another small pitcher of wine and plate of food. The rich roasted pork and potatoes looked and smelled far more appetising than the gruel she had been offered in the dungeons, but the thought of sitting down and eating made her stomach roil.
"If you won't eat then at least have some wine," Ornsten said as he poured some wine into a goblet.
Elsa pictured hitting Ornsten over the head with the wine pitcher and making a mad dash out of the bedroom. I wouldn't make it past the guards – let alone out of the palace. But she accepted the wine and sipped at it as Ornsten spoke. It did make her stomach feel a little better.
Ornsten glanced at the clock and grimaced. "It's time, my lady," he said.
"For what?"
"Maximilian has requested your presence this afternoon."
"For what purpose?"
Ornsten didn't answer her.
Four soldiers carrying spears flanked Elsa and Ornsten on either side after they left the bedroom. They marched solemnly through the palace, almost like they were there to protect her and not guard her from escaping. Elsa straightened her shoulders and tried to pretend like it was the former. Arendellian servants paused in their duties to watch. They surely heard about what happened, Elsa thought after a wide-eyed serving girl nearly dropped her tray when they walked around the corner.
To Elsa's surprise, they didn't stop in the courtyard, as she had been expecting, but walked over the bridge connecting the palace to the town, and then followed the main road towards the south gate. Ovelian soldiers swarmed everywhere – there must have been thousands of them patrolling the streets or positioned throughout the city. Many of them glanced at Elsa as she was marched by, some impassive, and some with scorn. There was no trace of the Arendellian townspeople in the streets, although Elsa thought she could spy some looking out from windows.
"The townspeople have been confined to their homes while we search the city," Ornsten told her when she asked. "Fear not, we have no intention to keep them locked away for any longer than necessary. I'm sure that things will be back to normal by tomorrow."
They left the city through the south gate and turned towards a stony outcrop overlooking the fjord. The rock had been shaped and flattened here centuries-upon-centuries ago. A chipped and stained alter rested in the middle of this outcrop. It was no taller than Elsa's thigh, and had a deep rivet carved through the centre where someone's neck would fit. It had been decades since this place had been used for its purpose. Elsa's great-grandfather had abolished the practise of beheading criminals during his reign.
A deep terror filled Elsa. "Are you going to execute me?
"No," Ornsten replied.
"Then why have you brought me here?"
Before Ornsten could answer her question, the south gate opened and more Ovelian soldiers came through, leading a host of Arendellian noble men and women behind them. They all seemed to share Elsa's anxious anticipation – especially when they turned towards the outcrop. She recognised the ones who had houses and manors inside Arendelle's walls, as well as several who governed outer towns and homesteads. They were all dressed in fine clothes and showed no sign of having been imprisoned. Elsa remembered Aubert's explanation when he first visited her in the dungeons.
"'King Maximilian had us brought to him and accepted our oaths of fealty. I don't know of anyone who refused him – otherwise I suspect they would be down here with you'."
"As Queen of Arendelle, you should witness the final moments of those who conspired to . . . liberate you," Ornsten eventually said. "Oaths were broken last night, and more than five-hundred Ovelians died because of them. Those soldiers will never see their homes again."
"And how many Arendellians died in exchange?" Elsa demanded. "They'll never see their homes again either. What makes the lives of your soldiers greater than the lives of mine?"
"Winning, mostly." The king's herald, Aedan, walked through the soldiers guarding Elsa and stood on the other side of Ornsten. He looked exhausted too, with large dark rings shadowing his golden-brown eyes. The glare Elsa levelled at him could have crushed shields. An old soldier dressed in ornate armour followed Aedan and stood behind him.
"Nervous, Aedan?" Ornsten asked him.
"Hardly," the herald scoffed, the ruined his bravado by chewing his lip.
"You should feel nothing but shame," the old knight behind Aedan said.
"And after Rathmore's through with me, I'll feel nothing but pain," Aedan retorted under his breath. "Say, do you think he seems particularly agitated today?"
Elsa followed Aedan's gaze and gasped. It's him! The king's executioner was an enormous man, with a pale, hairless face, and beady black eyes. She had seen that face pressed against the bars of the dungeon door once before and prayed it had only been a nightmare. He carried a giant, long-handled axe over his shoulder. The blade reminded Elsa of a guillotine. It was blackened with grime and ill-care, aside from the edge which shone sharply in the sunlight. The executioner scanned the crowd and when his eyes fell on Elsa, he spasmed in a caricature of a smile.
"Disgusting man," Ornsten muttered. Aedan nodded in agreement. "I don't know why Maximilian favours him."
Then, as if speaking his name had summoned him, the soldiers surrounding the outcrop parted, allowing King Maximilian to stride through. He wore his golden crown high on his brow and carried Arendelle's royal sceptre like it was a mace. He stepped onto the outcrop and looked at the mass of Arendellian nobility coldly. All whispered conversation drifted away, until everyone had their eyes on Maximilian.
King Maximilian breathed slowly through nose; when he spoke, the gravitas of his voice demanded that everyone listen. "It is fitting that this day is covered by grey cloud," he began, "for we are gathered here as witness to dismal business. To my soldiers and subjects: last night, wracked by storm in all its fury, you fought for me. You showed the men of this foreign kingdom your worth, and for that, your legend will live for eternity.
"There is one man among you who has shown his worth above all others. He stood outside these walls with the sun warming his back and duelled Arendelle's champion. He fought for me, and he fought for you, so that each of you might go back to your homes unbloodied. His efforts were undone last night."
Elsa shot a scathing glance at Aedan, but the Ovelian did not notice. He was looked at his king with a grim look on his face. Sweat beaded on his brow and his hands shook. She wondered if he thought about his duel with Ser Lennox too.
"Last night, soldiers came and tried to take Queen Elsa from our protection. They tried to take the fjord and destroy our ships in the bay. Brave men died to stop them.
"Last night, one soldier among you disobeyed his orders to pursue Queen Elsa. That soldier took Queen Elsa from the hands of a Coronan spy and saved the life of Ser Ornsten Ferrant, a soldier no less valorous and just.
"One day, this soldier will be rewarded for his valour, but today he will be punished for his disobedience." Maximilian let his words hang in the air. Courage is a virtue to be admired, but courage that directs you to disobey your king must be tempered with restraint. Aedan, step forward."
With a reluctant sigh, Aedan went to Maximilian. Everyone's eyes seemed to be on his as they watched him ascend the outcrop's stone steps and approach the alter.
"Aedan, Herald of Ovelia, and bastard with no name," announced Maximilian. "For disobedience to your king in a time of war, I sentence you to suffer the rod until breaking. Find honour in your punishment, Aedan, and do not disobey me again."
As Maximilian stepped back, Rathmore stepped forward. He kicked at the back of Aedan's knee and forced him over the alter. Then he took deep handfuls of Aedan's shirt and tore from his back like the linen was soft lace. Aedan did not say a word, but Elsa could see his chest rising and falling as he breathed deeply. Rathmore picked up a wooden rod which swished and bent as he wielded it.
There was no ceremony, no long pause for effect. Rathmore raised his arm and brought the rod down against Aedan's exposed back.
To his credit, Aedan did not cry out, even as his skin erupted in red swelling.
Then the second strike fell on top of the first. A feral groan escaped Aedan's lips. Perhaps spurred by Aedan's lack of sound, Rathmore struck even harder. To the giant man's pleasure, Aedan shouted in pain. Again and again, he struck him, and each time Aedan cried out.
Rathmore raised the rod once more and brought it down against Aedan's shoulders so savagely it shattered into dozens of wooden shards.
Aedan slumped against the post, breathing heavily, while Rathmore tossed what remained of the rod away.
Ornsten cursed under his breath. A pair of Ovelian soldiers cut Aedan away from the altar and half-dragged him down from the platform. Aedan's back was already purpling and swollen, and blood dripped from where the rod had torn at his flesh.
"You should go and have your back tended to," Ornsten told him when he returned. "You don't need to be here anymore."
"After this," Aedan said. He was still breathing heavily, Elsa noted, and his face was twisted in a permanent grimace. "Maximilian told me five lashes, not until breaking."
Ornsten didn't reply, but Elsa noted and remembered his troubled frown.
Maximilian's voice rose once again. "Bring the prisoners forward."
At the king's command, Ovelian soldiers half-guided, half-dragged a line of seven Arendellians forward. They were bound hand-and-foot in chains. Elsa scoured their faces for a glimpse of Lord Aubert and his long moustaches and was delighted to find him missing from the line. He must have made it to the harbour and escaped. However, her joy was short-lived, for at the end of the line was Chancellor Kai, bound hand-and-foot in chains like the soldiers in line ahead of him. He didn't look up when Elsa called his name, but Elsa could see the bruises stark across his face. It looked like he was barely able to put one foot in front of the other.
"Why is he there?" Elsa gripped Ornsten's arm desperately. He's just an old man – he hasn't done anything wrong."
"The chancellor confessed to having a servant lace bowls of stew with sleeping weed," Ornsten explained.
Elsa remembered seeing the two Ovelian soldiers passed out in the dungeons. "Confessed, or was he coerced?" she demanded. "Has he had a trial? What evidence is there of his involvement? Has anyone spoken in his defence?"
"This is a time of war, Elsa. And he confessed." Ornsten said. His troubled scowl deepened, and he would not be drawn into speaking again.
Maximilian's cut through Elsa's protests. He addressed the line of prisoners. "For your crimes against Ovelia and its provinces, I, Maximilian Du Von Ovelia, King of the Southern Lands and the Provence of Arendelle, sentence you to die. If you have final words, you may speak them now.
One of the Arendellian soldiers raised his head. "You are no king of mine," he spat. "The only monarch I'll ever bend my knee to is over there!" He jerked his head towards Elsa, and the other soldiers echoed his words with shouts of their own.
Elsa felt her blood run cold, and hot tears formed behind her eyes. You failed them, that small voice said to her. They wouldn't be there if you had stayed in your cage.
"The old man isn't saying anything," Aedan whispered to Ornsten.
But as soon as the words left Aedan's mouth, Chancellor Kai raised his head and began to sing. Elsa recognised the hymn, she had sung it in church for as long as she could remember. The Arendellian soldiers drifted into silence as Kai's baritone filled with power.
Alone. . .
I searched the shadows.
My heart is cold,
And hope has fled.
In my deepest memories,
I see You reaching out to me,
Hands like dawn.
Your love fills me.
Maximilian pointed at Chancellor Kai and nodded at his monstrous executioner. Rathmore raised his axe high and held it steady. The grotesque man's eyes were closed, and he swayed as he listened to Kai's song.
Though the night is long,
And my dreams are dark.
I look to the sky,
I see You reaching out to me.
With hands like dawn.
Your love fills me.
Chancellor Kai's voice faded. He closed his eyes and rested his neck on the block. The spell that had held Rathmore's axe broke, and he shook his head as though a fog had been lifted from him. With a vicious snarl, Rathmore brought his axe down. Kai's head hit the platform, rolled, then stopped.
Elsa turned away, horrified. If her stomach wasn't so empty, she might have emptied its contents onto the ground in front of everyone.
"Don't close your eyes," Ornsten said to her. "They are up there because of you. Don't dishonour them by looking away."
Rathmore booted Kai's corpse off the block, then gestured for the next soldier to be brought to him. A ripple surged through the Arendellians; the Ovelian soldiers were forced to lock their shields and level their spears to keep them back.
Don't, Elsa pleaded silently. More people will die if you do.
Rathmore raised his cleaver and brought it down – it rose and fell, rose and fell, becoming bloodier with every stroke. Elsa watched him, sickened, and forced herself to remember every face that knelt by the block that evening.
You owe them that small kindness.
When it was finished, Maximilian came past Elsa and Ornsten and paused. His face twisted in disgust, but when Elsa blinked, his mask of steely indifference had returned. The change happened so quickly Elsa thought she might have imagined it. "Take her back in her chamber," he ordered Ornsten, then left without another word.
A team of Ovelian soldiers began to gather the bodies of the executed men and tossed them unceremoniously into a cart. They left the heads where they fell.
#
Aedan found Alexia in her tower chamber that evening, wrapped in the bedsheets and shivering. The hearth blazed with fierce heat, and flames licked at the solid stones around the fireplace. The floor had been scrubbed clean at some point throughout the day, although the rug was yet to be replaced. Without the scorched stones, there was no trace of the spellcasting that had occurred in the night. Aedan was thankful for that, as that was one memory he hoped would fade quickly.
"You've returned," said Alexia. Dark shadows hung under Alexia's eyes, and her complexion had waned considerably. The colour had even vanished from her lips with only a hint of violet remaining. "I knew you would."
I don't know if I could have stayed away. Aedan chose not to voice that thought. Maximilian's warning was still so fresh. He swung the heavy oaken door shut and wandered over to the wash basin. Alexia's black dress was soaking wet and strewn across the floor by the fire. Aedan nudged it with his boot and removed his own shirt.
Alexia gasped at the sight of Aedan's abused back. "What happened?" she demanded.
Aedan almost laughed. "You might be the only person in Arendelle who hasn't heard." He used a goblet to scoop a cup of water out of the basin, but Alexia appeared at his side before he could pour it.
"Let me," the sorceress said, taking the goblet from him. Their fingers brushed together, and Aedan was shocked at how cold her skin was.
"You're freezing!" he blurted in surprise.
The sorceress smirked, murmuring in his ear, "And you're so warm." A white rag appeared in her hand, and she doused it with water.
"You're never cold," Aedan said.
"I am this today," Alexia replied. "Now hold still."
Aedan clenched his teeth together as Alexia patted his back with the wet rag.
"I said hold still."
"I didn't move!" Aedan protested.
"You did." She placed her hand on his shoulder to keep him still. "Now, tell me what happened."
The rag and the water in the basin were both stained red with his blood by the time Alexia finished bathing his back, and Aedan had finished telling her his version of the events from last night and that morning. Each stroke of the cloth made Aedan's back vibrate with heat and cold.
"I may have been the one to bring Elsa back to the palace," Aedan said, "But Ornsten was the one who stopped her from escaping."
Alexia ignored his attempt at humility. "And what did our glorious king say to you when you returned?"
Aedan turned to face her, and felt himself stir when he realised she was naked. "You don't sound too happy with our king."
Alexia shot him a stony look and wandered towards the fireplace. Aedan's grin returned in full force. He followed her to the fire and touched the small of her back. "He's going to legitimize me soon. I've earned my father's name."
"He holds a name in one hand and the lash in another." Alexia hardly sounded impressed. "Besides, the make of a man amounts to more than just a name."
"The beating's nothing," Aedan assured her. "In a month or two I'll be healed with only a few scars to keep me company. It already feels like new. . ." He paused. "Did you. . .?"
"A small thing, hardly worth noting," Alexia said dismissively.
"Thank you."
"You're welcome, sweetling." She placed her hands on his chest and pressed her lips against his jaw. Her touch was ice, but her lips filled him with fire. "Come to bed. It's been a long time since we have slept."
"I'm not sure how much use I'll be to you like this." Aedan suppressed a yawn. "I'm exhausted."
Alexia ignored him and pulled him into bed. She pressed herself against him. Her skin felt like ice.
"Why are you so cold?" Aedan asked.
"Anyone can become cold," Alexia said sleepily. Her eyes were slits through her lashes.
"Not you."
Alexia lifted a lazy hand and caressed his cheek with her cool fingertips. "Even me."
Silence fell between them, but Aedan could not sleep. He heard Alexia's breathing slow. The heat from the fireplace made Aedan's eyes feel heavy, but he did not let them close. "When I become a lord, I'll be expected to wed," Aedan murmured.
"Are you proposing marriage, Aedan?" Alexia's eyes did not open, and her breathing remained steady.
"Nothing like that," he said quickly.
Alexia's lips twitched. "I do not want to marry you either."
"That's not what I meant."
"Hush, I was only teasing." Alexia opened her eyes. "Of course, you must marry. I expect you'll find no shortage of noblewomen hoping to enter your marriage bed when word of your deeds reaches Ovelia."
"Maximilian has one particular woman in mind."
"Oh? Who?"
"Rosalind Ashaela."
"The Queen's sister," Alexia noted. "You two would make a fitting pair."
"I don't want to marry Rosalind Ashaela."
If Alexia was pleased, she gave no sign. Instead, she entwined her legs with his and took hold over his chin with her fingertips. "She's a beautiful woman."
"I already have a beautiful woman," Aedan said. Alexia laughed.
"And when you marry dear Rosalind, you'll have two." Alexia smiled wickedly. "Perhaps she'll even enjoy the idea of a witch sharing her marriage bed."
"Not if she's anything like the rest of her family." Aedan dispelled the image Alexia had sown before it had a chance to take root.
"Perhaps not," said Alexia.
"Everything will change when we return home."
"For the better, I'm sure."
"I hope that's true."
Alexia smiled and closed her eyes. "Fear not, sweetling. Marriage to Rosalind Ashaela or not, I have you now and I do not intend on letting you go."
Aedan lay awake for a long time – long after Alexia drifted back to sleep. As the sun set, and orange light streamed through the narrow cracks in the curtains, Aedan thought he could hear someone singing Chancellor Kai's sweet, sad song.