Chapter Eleven: Prison Escape

French outpost in Northern Denmark

April 25, 1813

The distant lights that flickered incessantly hundreds of feet above them were the only indicator there was life among these jagged cliffs. The incessant sound of surf crashing against stones and the misty spray that it produced reminded Hans of how treacherous these waters were. One wrong maneuver and his ship can run aground on edges of these sharp rocks. This was why he had ordered the ship to come no further and drop anchor. He would not risk a closer approach, especially when they had to come here with their lamps extinguished.

"What now?" Elsa whispered beside him. She looked amply prepared for the challenge ahead in a traveling dress made of dark blue material that flowed smoothly down to her ankles and barely hid her flat-heeled slippers. A jacket covered her arms up to her wrists revealed only a hint of a white chemise on her chest. Hans couldn't help but marvel at the little icy details that were interspersed within her sleeves, her neckline, and hems. Hans figured her entire dress was made of ice. This was certainly not the same outfit she had worn on that day he had taken her from the ship. He too had dispensed with his usual heavy military uniform and made do with his more austere "pirate garb" of plain black trousers, a dark jacket, and sturdy boots. Ease of movement would be essential to their plans.

"We'll take a small boat into a little cove I know, then make our way into the castle through a small passageway. It will be gated by iron bars so I will be needing your powers to break it down. We go in with four other men and hopefully get to the cell before the mid-morning guard shift. The Duke of Weselton says they are being held somewhere up there. Most likely the most secure place would be the one facing this cliff."

"You seem to know your way around this place," Elsa commented wistfully. She appeared to be fascinated with the sight before her. He felt the same way when he first encountered this place. Everything was a wonder to a boy of twelve on his first mission. It wasn't much of a mission then as it was just bringing regular supplies to the garrison. However, this picturesque fortress hidden in mists and dangerous rocks was enough to fuel his vivid imagination of wild adventure so much he sought it at every opportunity. He was grateful for it now.

"I was stationed here when I first joined the navy as a midshipman," he told her. "I was tasked to bring in food and ammunition. It was just a routine inspection with a lot of heavy carrying and tedious documenting. But I did have a chance for some downtime and I explored the caves underneath the fortress with some of my young shipmates. We found the passageway to the fortress through one of the coves and kept it a secret among ourselves. I supposed it's not much of a secret to the Danish navy who were stationed here then, but most likely the French wouldn't know about it. I'm hoping they haven't found the path yet."

"And if they have?" she asked.

He hated her pessimistic tone and he grumbled his reply: "We'll figure something out."

"That is not very reassuring General," she remarked.

"My most effective plans are the ones I work on as the opportunity arises," he replied sarcastically before he realized his words were just ammunition she can use.

She arched an eyebrow at him and said nothing, but her expression was enough. He knew she was thinking about her coronation and the "opportunistic" way he acted to bring her down and steal her kingdom.

Elsa's distrust was relentless. He learned that from the moment he revealed to her who he was. He supposed it was justified given their history. However, unlike Anna, she wasn't one to be charmed so easily into relaxing her guard. Every encounter he had with her was a challenge. She questioned his motives, belittled his plans, mocked his declarations of affection for Anna, and seemed to enjoy reminding him what a scumbag he was.

Well, I did ruin her reputation, Hans reminded himself whenever he was tempted to counter Elsa's verbal attacks. His plan of making the French believe that she was captured by pirates to throw Napoleon's lackeys off their secret alliance would have the untoward consequence of the world believing Elsa was now a damaged woman. As a widowed queen, Hans realized Elsa still had a good chance of remarrying despite her unusual ice powers. His ruse, however, took away that prospect in the most vicious way possible. He could almost hear the high society circles talking about how she could have been violated by some common mercenary on the way to being a slave to some godless heathen. No royal in their right mind would even want to offer marriage to her after this incident. Surprisingly, Elsa didn't protest his diversionary tactic and even asked him to send an exorbitant ransom note to the Paris War Office to add credibility to their story. Hans wondered if Elsa was so averse to the idea of marriage that she deliberately volunteered to paint herself a ruined woman so no one would offer her another chance at wedlock.

Or perhaps she is resigned to Anna and her children succeeding her. I suppose Elsa knows she can't have children. She's just being practical. Why go through another terrible marriage when in the end, the spare already provided the heirs? However, that only makes Anna an even more sought-after royal bride.

The rescue of her people was only the first test Elsa wanted to put him and he knew everything rode on this chance. Somehow he needed to gain Elsa's trust enough to let him marry Anna and give her the protection she needed before the French, the Coalition or his conniving brothers decided to beat him to her. It wasn't an easy task after the Duke of Weselton told him where the Arendellian hostages were kept. The fortifications of this prison were so well-built, storming it by force was definite suicide. Stealth was their only option. He left his Swedish frigate at a safe distance under his first mate and the Duke of Weselton who opted to stay away from any dangerous rescue attempts. He, Elsa, and two dozen men proceeded with the smaller and swifter Beatrix to this fortress. He would have left Elsa behind too, but he needed her powers to gain access to the entrance he planned to use. She also insisted that she came along to ensure her people were properly treated. She would be part of the smaller group of only six people, including himself, that would infiltrate the fortress.

"Ever been on a little boat, your majesty?" he asked just to make conversation while his men began going down the rope ladder to ready their smaller vessel.

She didn't answer immediately but looked at the steep climb down into the almost invisible little boat below. She looked half-ill at the thought but replied steadily: "I'll manage."

Meaning it's her first time, he concluded. He was tempted to offer her assistance but resisted the urge unless she asked for it. He learned in just a few days that Elsa could be quite stubborn and averse to close contact. He didn't want to add to her doubts about him when they were about to go off on a dangerous task together. However, he made sure to climb down the ladder just before her, ready to catch her if she slipped off the ropes.

To his surprise, she managed to make it down without help despite her slow descent. She wobbled for a bit once she was on their tiny boat but settled herself and gracefully sat near the bow. They fell into a companionable silence as he and the four other men rowed them to the cove. They beached in about half an hour. Using the dim light of their lamps as a guide, he felt around the rocks until he found the familiar opening.

The tide, as he well expected, was still high. They would have to wade into waist-deep water for several meters. He gestured to his men to follow but stopped to stare at Elsa in her ankle-length gown. Her dress was a sensible one with material light enough to be walking on the deck of a ship or even climbing rope ladders. However, it was certainly not something that she can use to wade in deep water while alternately climbing and crawling through jutted rock formations in semi-darkness. Her slippers were also a great disadvantage. They were so delicate they would cause her to slip easily and the soles would be cut into shreds climbing sharp stones within minutes.

"Your majesty, we have a problem," he began uncomfortably. He had told her before to prepare for strenuous activity but he didn't exactly say how to dress for this. It was not a topic you breached with ladies in polite society. However, he figured since Elsa could create her clothes at will, he didn't have to say it. Now that they were about to enter a cavern, he figured it was best to at least give her fair warning. "When I said we were going to rough it, I meant climbing rocks and wading in water and…"

"My outfit is impractical," she interrupted in a business-like tone. "That's no trouble at all."

Hans realized she was about to turn her outfit into something else. The first time he had seen her ice dress, he was fascinated with its makeup and secretly wished to find out how she made it. He realized he was about to find out. He waited for her to do something with her hands. Maybe flex them into some kind of magical stance.

Instead, she began taking off her slippers.

Is she just going to disrobe right here? Hans panicked as he forced himself to turn around while ordering his men to do the same.

"Okay done, problem solved," she said in less than a minute.

He turned back to her and saw the upper part of her outfit remained the same, but the skirt was completely replaced by a pair of tight-fitting trousers. It wasn't exactly scandalous, except for her bare feet which he couldn't help but look at. Southern Isles noble ladies never exposed their ankles, much less their soles in society. He never expected to see it from a queen.

Then again, she's not the most conventional of queens, he thought as he recalled seeing her for the first time in her ice gown that gave him a flattering view of her knees. He could still remember those knees and now he could see her toes looked equally fascinating.

"They're feet General. Every human being has them," she harshly said, with the ever-present scowl on her face.

"Sorry." He shook his head and averted his gaze as realized he had been caught staring. He turned back to his men who thankfully did not seem to even witness Elsa's new outfit. They were far too busy trying to wade their way into the cave entrance. He quickly joined them and led the way.

He wasn't mincing words when he said they were roughing it. Several minutes later all of them were raggedly gasping over climbing slippery rock formations. Twice he cut himself on some of the sharper spikes and bumped his head at a sudden outcropped stone. He could tell his men and even Elsa was also getting herself into a few scrapes, for he heard her gasp at least thrice. Each time he paused to ask her if she was okay, but her answer was always: "I'm fine." He admired both her stamina and her uncomplaining attitude for keeping up with them. I supposed that's two traits she shares with Anna. They're both hardy and driven. It's just too bad she doesn't have Anna's sunny disposition.

After hearing another of his men groan with another scrape she stopped their pace and went to him.

"Is it bad?" she asked the man gently.

"Just a bump on the head, your majesty. It's going to swell but it's nothing," the man replied.

"Here, let me help," she replied. Hans watched her as she gently iced the man's injured temple to ease his pain. "Anyone else needs some ice?" she asked.

One by one the other men came to her and she eased their little aches.

Compassionate and thoughtful of others just like Anna, he concluded. However, he knew such compassion would have limits. She couldn't possibly be willing to extend that same gesture for him and he wasn't going to ask her for help even if his temple was throbbing.

"General?" he heard her call out. "Do you need some ice?"

"I'm fine," was his turn to reply. He felt her step beside him but he refused to glance in her direction.

"I know you bumped your head," she insisted as she forced him to face her.

"I said I was fine," he repeated more urgently and quickly turned away to avoid her only to have his forehead collide into another unexpected stone in front of him. He bit his tongue to prevent himself from groaning out in pain.

"Look, let's just stop for a while," she said. "The men do need to rest for a bit. It's been almost an hour."

Hans decided to give in to her wisdom and ordered his men to take a rest. He found a flat rock to lean onto and rest his own aching feet. Elsa came beside him and placed her lamp on a little ledge so she can peer into his face.

"You're bleeding," she remarked.

"It's just a small nip. It will clot…" he began but she didn't appear to be listening to him. She had pulled at the collar of her jacket and turned one section inside out. She then grabbed a fistful of white fabric underneath. It took him a moment to realize that she had pulled out the end of her chemise. "You don't have to do that," he said as he realized what she was about to do.

"It's the only dry fabric, I've got," Elsa replied. A pair of ice scissors magically materialized in her hand and she used them to cut a piece of the white cloth from her shoulder. She used the piece to dab at the aching part of his temple just above his right brow. Through his peripheral vision, he saw his blood coat the cloth and he realized he must have had a nastier cut than he expected. Her other hand moved to touch his forehead and he felt the cold relieving what he knew could be an awful swelling. Her finger trailed down the bridge of his nose and she stopped there. He couldn't help but stare at her. Several clumps of her hair had escaped her braid and were now plastered with sweat and seawater across her face. Even washed out like this, he had to admit, she still had an ethereal presence. She had fewer freckles lining her nose from what he remembered, but the cool blue of her eyes remained the same. Right now, those eyes seemed fixated on his right cheek just below his eye. He realized she was staring at his scar. He had noticed Elsa seemed to always glance at it and he wondered if she knew. He decided there was no reason to hide.

"It's the one Anna gave me," he said. "When she thought I killed Kristoff. She cut me with a letter opener."

She stepped away and shrugged, a tiny smile grazed the corner of her mouth. It was the first he had seen since they've met again. "I always knew Anna could do even better than a right hook."

It was his turn to snigger. "Well, she does have a talent for scaring me. This is technically the second one she gave me. You can't see the first one because it's inside. She scarred more than my face. She scarred my heart and I'll forever be grateful to her. However, he didn't dare say that out loud to Elsa, who was looking at him with a puzzled expression. "I mean she broke my nose when she socked me and my nasal septum is still a bit misaligned to this day," he hurriedly explained.

"You deserved it," Elsa said snidely.

"I wholeheartedly agree with that," he replied without rising to her bait.

She was silent for a long time and he imagined that the wheels in her head were turning, searching for some other comeuppance, but nothing came.

"Just keep applying pressure to your head until it stops bleeding," she said. "We ought to start moving again."

He nodded and ordered his men to resume. They passed the next few minutes in silence as they traveled further into the cave. Finally, they came into the most difficult part of the passageway. There was a tiny gap that can fit only one body at a time into a crawling position. However, once they got through it, he knew the entrance to the fortress would be just on the other side. He went through it first. It was a tight fit since had grown significantly since he was a teenager, but he managed it and came up to an outside ledge that ended at a steep drop several hundreds of feet into the protruding rocks below. When he had first discovered this entrance at the side of the mountain that seemingly led to nowhere, he figured it had been used for a rather unsavory purpose. The fortress on top of this mountain had been built centuries earlier and he could just imagine that whoever constructed this unusual entrance, had used it for disposing of dead bodies of captured enemies or even executing people by pushing them off the ledge. It still looked just as ominous as it did when he was here last, but that wasn't a concern. What was important was the entrance…

The entrance! Hans stared at it as he felt a pang of dread drop down his stomach. What was once just a gated hole on the side of the mountain was now covered completely in stone. Someone had walled it up since the last time he was here! He tapped on the stone and realized it was solid adobe, probably even a meter thick. Breaking it down might not be feasible even for Elsa's powers.

He heard a grunt and saw that Elsa had managed to crawl her way through space and was now climbing up to where he was. He gave her a hand and she reluctantly accepted it. He pulled her up to his level. His men one by one followed next to her.

"There's a complication," he told her directly and showed her the wall.

She stared at it for a long moment and tapped on the rough surface before she stared at him incredulously. "I make ice, not explosives! You expect me to break that? Are you insane?"

"There wasn't a wall back then just iron grills."

"Well clearly you didn't think that through, did you?" she accused.

He knew she had a point, but he wasn't out of ideas yet. "There's still the wall. We may not be able to enter the fortress through the entrance but we can still climb it. It's a lot more treacherous but we are on the right side that would lead us straight up to the potential prison cell of your people. I'm hoping you can make us some sort of ice footholds to make climbing it easier."

Elsa carefully assessed the wall that rose almost straight up to the barely lit lights of the fortress. "I can do that," she agreed. "But climbing it is going to take us a long time and it's dangerous. If I make something like a staircase that's sturdier, it could be seen easily in the light. It's almost dawn and we don't have the time. There is an easier way for me to do this."

"What do you have in mind?" he asked.

"I can do this on my own, but I need someone who knows where the prison cell is. You're coming with me General. The rest of you," he indicated to the men. "Just keep watch until we ask for you."

Hans was confused. "Okay, so where are we going?"

She waved a hand at him and pointed a finger next to where she was standing. "Right here, General. Just stand right here."

Hans still had no idea what she was getting into but followed her instruction.

"Are you afraid of heights? Prone to screaming? Have panic attacks over sudden movements?" she shot each question one after another.

"What?"

"Just answer my questions," she said impatiently. "Heights? Screaming? Sudden movements?"

"No, no and no?" he replied sheepishly.

"Good to know."

Without warning, Elsa blasted the ground they were standing on, forming a platform of ice that froze his boots into place and made him unable to move off the ground. A split second later, the platform rose, propelled by a rising ice column that shot them up into the air faster than any vehicle he had ever been on. The movement was so abrupt, it sent his heart racing at top speed and he instinctively grabbed at the first thing he got a hold of, which happened to be Elsa's waist.

"Let go of me if you want to live," she hissed furiously at him.

His embarrassment made him almost forget he was hurtling into the air at possibly more than fifty kilometers per hour. He slowly eased his grip off her body and reminded himself that he couldn't possibly fall. Elsa had taken care to stick him to their platform. However, it took him a while to acclimatize himself to the ascent. By the time he was getting the hang of it, they had reached the top of the mountain and the fortress loomed in front of them. Once on solid ground, Elsa dissipated her column of ice and released his feet.

"A fair warning would be nice," he said snidely.

"I'm not nice," was Elsa's acerbic reply.

"Yes you are," Hans contradicted. "Just not to me."

"You're learning."

Hans decided not to answer back even if he was seething inside. He stared around him and saw they were exactly where he hoped they would be. This was the side of the fortress where the prison wall was facing. With any luck, the guards stationed above them would not be looking and the natural fog that filtered through early morning light would give them enough cover. Nevertheless, he wasn't taking chances. He motioned to Elsa to follow him and they dashed together towards the base of the nearest fortress wall so they would be carefully hidden.

"The prison would be located about a few meters from here, we just need to stick close to the wall so we won't be seen. We should scout ahead and if the two of us can get the prisoners out without even bothering the rest of our men, that would be better."

Elsa nodded and followed after him. They crouched against the wall for several meters until he found what he was looking for: an almost invisible grate that protruded from the base of the fortress wall.

Niklas Hagen had resigned himself to never seeing his home again. He had watched so many of his friends die of pneumonia in the camps on the road to Russia and even more, comrades succumb to cold and starvation in Moscow. He survived two gunshot wounds, a bout of diarrhea, chills, fever, and other dreadful aches and pains in several months. The nurses he had met had pronounced him lucky to have survived so much and had often spoken to him optimistically about his return to his own country. He knew better though. Sooner or later his luck would run out and if it came, he was at peace with himself to let go and join the ranks of the dead.

The seventeen other Arendellians who he had been kept with for the last two months had often scoffed at his negativity. They still harbored the hope that they would all survive this. Niklas knew better. He never entertained illusions and he understood that their so-called "guest accommodations" by the French were just a pretty term to hide their real status. They were hostages. He had realized that fact the moment their French superior had ordered them confined to this one room and were forbidden from leaving except for a few hours of daily exercise each day under heavy guard. Eventually, even that respite was denied them and he could feel from the increased animosity of their guards that things between Arendelle and the French were not going well. He could read from their actions that they were now pawns to whatever their French allies were demanding from Queen Elsa. Unfortunately, none of them had a status high enough to even be worth a ransom. All of them came from tiny outskirt villages who had never even seen the Queen. They were just simple farmers and ice harvesters, plucked from their trade and conscripted to a war they barely understood. Despite the stories he heard that she was a caring monarch, he could not imagine Queen Elsa risking an effort to procure them when she probably had other matters to attend to.

At least when I am dead, my pension could allow my darling Katrine to have enough to live by and raise our children decently.

"Foggy morning today," Soren Olofsson exclaimed from their single barred window. The twenty-year-old soldier had been hanging on a tiny ledge on the wall which was the only foothold that would allow you to peer into the window for it was built almost ten feet from the ground. Niklas had long ago stopped attempting to peer at that window. As their little prison cell was built below ground, all you could see from their pathetic little peep-hole was moss and rock. There was a tiny spec of the sea there but you can only see it if you made an effort to swing yourself a little higher and look past the shadow of the jagged rocks at certain times of the day. Nevertheless, he refrained from saying anything out loud.

Soren's one of the dreamers. Let him have the comfort of a little breeze once in a while if it keeps him sane.

"I think there's somebody out there," Soren cried out. It brought most of the men to look up at him.

Then again it might give him delusions. It would be impossible for someone to be out there, at least someone that could be seen from their window. It was facing a cliff straight down to rocky waters below. It was one of the first things they considered when they attempted to plan an escape. They immediately dismissed the plan for even if they managed to escape the bars, there was nowhere for them to go but to plunge to their deaths.

"It's coming closer," Soren continued.

"Probably just a large bird," Niklas dismissed.

"No, it's got feet. Tiny pretty feet."

"As I said, it's a bird," Niklas repeated.

"No, it's a girl's feet with pretty pink toes."

Oh, he's delusional now! How can a girl climb up that cliff?

"And someone else with big boots," Soren went on as the other men ambled to climb on the ledge to have a look.

"Alright that's it," Niklas grumbled. "This has got to stop—"

"Lieutenant Niklas Hagen?" the feminine voice wafted softly through the window.

All the men turned their eyes towards him. Niklas could only stare back at them open-mouthed.

"Lieutenant Hagen, if you're there, please respond?" the voice continued in perfect Arendellian.

Niklas continued to stare at the window in silence until one of his companions pushed at him. "I'm here," he managed to choke out. "W-who are you?"

"I told you it's a girl," Soren replied. "All I can see is her feet and someone else's."

"Who's there with you?" the voice asked.

"Soren Olofsson," Soron blurted out quite cheerfully before Niklas could shush him.

"Are you crazy?" Niklas whispered to the younger man. "You don't go around telling your name to unknown voices.

"Good to hear you're there, Private Olofsson," the voice remarked.

"She already knows who I am," Soren snapped back. "Well, at least she knows my rank."

"Is there anyone else with you there? Are there any guards?" asked the voice.

"No guards," Soren continued. "Just say all your names," he told the other men who immediately began saying them out loud. When they were done, there was a short pause before the voice called again.

"Private Olofsson, I would appreciate it if you move away from the window and the rest of you should stand back as well."

Niklas was more than happy to obey this time. He moved several meters away from the wall of the window along with the rest of his companions. It was then that he felt a chill permeate the room. He watched in astonishment as the bars froze solid until they cracked. Suddenly, something pushed at the now brittle bars sending shards falling down the floor. But it didn't end there. Ice began forming from the window, creating a solid set of steps to the ground. In a moment, a white little foot stepped through then another. Finally, the most beautiful woman Niklas has ever seen emerged and gracefully came down the solid ice steps.

"Is everyone alright?" she asked. "I've come to take you home."

Niklas could only stare at the platinum blonde before him. Have I died and met an angel? Who is this vision?

"Are you… Queen Elsa?" It was Soren who broke the spell and immediately fell into a bow before she gave a nod of the assent.

That one gesture made the other men follow Soren's example. However, it took Niklas a moment to even process what was before him. This spirit-like creature was the Queen he had never seen before, but she was as magnificent and awe-inspiring as he heard. He fell prostrate himself but he almost immediately felt her presence in front of him, her touch warm and soothing.

"Oh please, do get up. I appreciate the honor, but now is the time to hurry. We must leave here soon. Is everyone healthy enough to walk?"

Niklas couldn't believe it. His Queen had gone out of her way to rescue them. Never in his wildest dreams had he imagined that she would even bother with them, and she seemed to be looking over each one of them, assessing their state of being.

"We're not exactly in the best of health, your majesty, but walking climbing, and marching, we can manage," Niklas assured her.

"Then we must go before the guards change shifts," she said as she indicated her icy staircase. Before anyone could move towards her creation, however, a tall, handsome man appeared from her staircase, dressed from head to foot in black. He may be wearing civilian clothes, but Niklas immediately recognized him as one of the high-ranking French officers he once encountered in Moscow who had helped put out a fire of their supplies. He shrank back, fearful this was a trap.

"Is this a joke?" Niklas accused as he stared up at the man. "He's a French officer."

The Queen glared at the man. "I told you, I didn't need you to come with me. It complicates things," she hissed at him.

"You're a woman, going into an unknown guarded prison, to meet possibly strange men," the tall man argued.

"They're my men," she argued back. "And I am more than capable of defending myself." She shook her head and turned to Niklas, her demeanor turning back into one of open friendliness. "It's alright, he's not French, he's from Sweden. They're now on our side. He'll help get all of you out."

Niklas still had his doubts and eyed the man with derision. Whoever he was, he didn't seem to be in good graces with their queen. Nevertheless, he believed her and that was what mattered. He was the first to step into the marvelous ice-made structure that led up to the broken window. Once he stepped out of the prison into the foggy morning air, he peered down into the edge of the cliff.

"How do we get down?" Soren voiced his concern. All his other companions now stood beside him, eyeing the deathly height.

"Queen Elsa's going to create a platform of ice that will drop you down to that rock below where my men are waiting. I hope you're not afraid of almost free falling your way down," the tall man said sarcastically though his words were directed at the Queen.

Niklas groaned inwardly. No, he was not a fan of free falling, even if there was ice to carry him there.

Queen Elsa gave the man another one of her dagger looks. "You think too little of me, General. I would never frighten my people that way."

"Oh, so you're just going to make them climb down with an ice staircase. You said it before that will take us ages. The guards will change before we even get to the bottom," the man went on.

"Who says anything about a staircase?" she mocked before she gestured with her hands. To Niklas' astonishment, an ice slide appeared from where they were standing, winding smoothly down past the jagged rocks and ending perfectly at a flat outcropping of rock large enough for them to stand several hundred feet below.

"I hope none of you are afraid of heights," she said almost teasingly. "Don't worry, the slide is completely safe… and fast."

Niklas had to chuckle at Queen Elsa's jab. He was liking her more and more each minute.

"No worries, your majesty," Niklas replied cheerfully for the first time in many days. "We scale heights for a living. Ice is our way of life and we are grateful to have a queen that will give us another lease to enjoy living again." He gave her another polite bow and was the first to get on the slide. Before he slid down it gleefully towards his freedom, he caught the tall man's words with the queen:

"You enjoy frightening me, do you?"

"Not really, I'm letting you use my slide unless of course, you prefer my platform again," she replied in a tone as bitingly cold as her ice.