"Your mother is going to kill you."

Elsa frowned at the brunette who was perched on the armrest of the sofa in the secret dressing room. She'd managed to find her father's old coronation outfit tucked away in storage. It was a little big on her, but she just stuffed extra fabric in the shoulders, successfully creating an especially looming silhouette. It had been King Runeard's before it was her father's, some sort of military uniform. Black with red trimmings and shining gold medals to round out the look. "Well I think I look quite dashing."

"I'm not arguing with that." Honeymaren hopped down and gestured to the dress that had already been picked out. "But you know the queen won't let you show up to your own courting ball in a suit, much less the king's coronation suit from decades ago."

"You're no fun," the princess whined.

"Well excuse me for wanting to save your skin," she replied sarcastically, helping Elsa shrug out of the large coat. "And the dress isn't that bad."

"I know, I'm just… not feeling it today." Elsa looked forlornly at the dress hanging up on her wardrobe. Honeymaren was right. It wasn't that bad. Elsa had actually picked it out herself, at the time loving how she looked in it. The dress itself was teal, with a bronze trim and rosemaling on the skirt and bodice. It was to be worn over a mostly plain black long-sleeved turtleneck, with a cape and gloves to match. As a whole, it actually looked quite nice. Elsa had loved that cape when she first tried it on, and her hands felt right at home in those gloves, but on the day of the ball, she could barely look at herself as she put the outfit on. Honeymaren was a great comfort though, intentionally standing in front of the mirror as she helped the monarch into her dress. "I wish I could just wear what I wanted, but just because I'm a princess, I have to be done up in these stupid gowns and gloves. It's tiresome…" She trailed off, her cheeks blushing furiously. There she was, complaining to the help about the trials and tribulations of being royalty. She saw Honeymaren as more of a friend than a servant but still. How privileged and spoiled did she sound? "Sorry."

"No, I get it." Honeymaren fastened the azure clasp to her magenta cape. "Fashion is complicated. My brother is so lucky he gets to wear pants all day instead of skirts and dresses." That just made the princess sadder. It was about so much more than just wearing dresses for her, but she just didn't know how to put it into verbal words. She'd written about it very incoherently in journals and diaries over the years, but none of her entries ever quite made sense, and every time she tried to open her mouth to talk someone through the cavernous cave that was her mind, her throat closed up and she just… couldn't.

"Elsa?"

"Hm?" She'd been so lost in her own internal monologue that she hadn't even realised her friend was still talking.

"I asked how you wanted to do your hair today."

"Oh." She glanced at herself in the mirror, platinum blonde hair fanned over her shoulders. "Um, up."

"Anything more specific?" Honeymaren prompted.

"Just anything feminine enough to please my mother. As long as it's not falling past my neck it's fine."

Honeymaren nodded. "Sit down at the dressing table for me?"

The princess did just that, and Honeymaren's fingers worked deftly to braid her hair and bring it up to form a crown twist bun. Once the pins held everything in place, her hairstyle looked perfectly royal and was out of the way while still appearing feminine enough to not draw unwanted questions. "Thank you," Elsa said softly.

"You look great," Honeymaren offered, though she knew her words were of no consequence to Elsa, especially when she was in one of her funks. This ball certainly brought on a funk like no other.

"I still can't believe I'm doing this."

"Don't think of it so much as courting." Honeymaren gave Elsa a comforting pat on the shoulder. "It's not even been publicly announced as such. There are gonna be so many people out there tonight. You probably won't even get the chance to talk to every one of them. Just think of it as socialising. Nothing serious, and nothing permanent."

That did make Elsa feel a little better. Honeymaren was right. It was just for one night. Nothing permanent.

She consciously blocked out the thought that her mother could have her host many more balls in the future.

The sudden sharp clang of the bells drew them both from their thoughts. From anywhere else in Arendelle, they would sound duller, but since they were in the castle, Elsa and Honeymaren bore the full brunt of their auditory force. The signal that the ball was about to start.

"I've been summoned," Elsa stated dryly, rising from her seat and nearly tripping over her cape that had somehow tangled around her legs while she was sitting down. Honeymaren caught her just in time, helping her right the cape again. Elsa scowled. "This thing is a safety hazard."

Honeymaren gave her an apologetic smile. "You'll be fine."

XXX

"There you are." Iduna beckoned her daughter over as soon as she caught her eye. "You're late. Where have you been?"

"Sorry. I was getting ready," she answered honestly.

The queen made a sound of mild disapproval but didn't push the issue of Elsa's tardiness. "Never mind. People are arriving. Kai will announce us and after that, you know what to do. Mingle. Work the room. Talk to people."

"You make it sound so easy."

"It is!" she insisted. "You've been going to these since you were little, both in Arendelle and in other kingdoms. It's no different to any other ball you've attended."

Elsa wanted to point out that most of those balls involved her hiding behind her mother and father the entire evening while they did the mingling, but she decided against it.

"Today is a courting ball. You might not have advertised it as such, but the people know. The kingdom gossips. They'll talk to me and I won't be left alone all night."

Iduna took Elsa's gloves hands in hers. "You are a princess, my darling," she reminded her. "You were born for this. Schools and tutors have taught you how to attend to your royal duties. The people of Arendelle adore you. You're basically set up for success."

Shrill trumpet blasts jolted them apart before they heard Kai in the Great Hall. "Presenting Her Majesty, Queen Iduna of Arendelle!"

Elsa's brow creased with worry and she tensed instinctively when her mother tapped her chin lightly with her finger. "Chin up. Head held high, yes?"

She sighed sadly, stifling down the bubbling emotions inside of her and forcing a smile. "Yes, Mother."

"Good girl." Iduna made a start towards the Great Hall before pausing for a moment. "This is who you are, Elsa. Be proud of it." And then she was gone.

"And Her Royal Highness, Princess Elsa of Arendelle!"

"Okay Elsa," she said softly, straightening her back and steeling herself to walk out there to face the crowds who came to see her. "Let's get this over and done with."

Raucous applause hit her eardrums when she stepped out into the Great Hall making her immediately want to turn and run, but one glance at her mother told her that was the last thing she should do. Instead, Elsa took her place beside the queen by the three thrones in the front of the room; one smaller for the princess and two larger for the king and queen, one of which was shrouded with a thin black veil.

"Good evening everyone, and welcome to Arendelle's Summer Ball." Her mother addressed the hundreds of guests who showed up, calling it a Summer Ball as if it was something they hosted every year. The truth of the matter was that balls were rarely held unless there was a royal birthday or some other occasion of similar significance. Otherwise, the palace was closed off, only accessible by invitation.

Elsa's eyes glossed over the crowd, trying to do a mental head count and estimate the numbers before she quickly realised it was an impossible feat. The ball was an open event and Arendelle really showed up for it, especially the many bachelors who she knew had come in the hopes to impress her. That was an upside to these things at least. The ability to observe and nitpick all the formal male attire that came through the palace gates, picking out bits that she liked and could only hope to recreate with her father's things.

"Ahem." Queen Iduna cleared her throat, looking expectantly at her daughter who blushed upon realising it was her turn to speak. She only had three lines, but she let herself get so distracted that she hadn't even gotten the chance to practise them incessantly in her head before she had to speak.

"Thank you everyone for coming," Elsa said in a slightly shaky voice. "Whether you're from Arendelle or have travelled to join us, we appreciate you being here. Please have some food and drink, dance, and enjoy the night."

The band struck up and Elsa glanced at her mother out of the corner of her eye. "Mingle," Iduna mouthed, gracefully stepping down from the elevated throne platform, probably to entertain some dukes and duchesses. Taking another steadying breath — she seemed to be taking a lot of those that night — Princess Elsa followed suit.

The names and interests of all the guests immediately overwhelmed her. There was Samuel… something. The baker's son who opened the conversation with a bread pun. Then there was a boy who couldn't have been older than twelve who tried to go up and talk to her but accidentally stepped on her cape, tripping her up in the process. And someone from a neighbouring kingdom — Fynn? — tried to be flirtatious but instead ended up doing a weird smoulder which… unsettled her to say the least.

"I don't know how much of this mind-numbing idle chit-chat I can take, Maren," she grumbled under her breath when she got a minute alone with her lady in waiting. Elsa had just eaten dinner, which had given her the perfect excuse to excuse herself to fix her makeup before the dancing began. The two women were in Elsa's not-secret dressing room which was considerably closer to the throne room, Honeymaren fixing up the princess' lipstick by candlelight. "People aren't even original anymore. They either go way too overboard with flattery and being polite to me to the point where they're a total bore, or they try to play a womaniser making it obvious they just want to get in my pants. There is no in between."

"Mhm," she replied attentively, passing Elsa a tissue to blot her lipstick.

"And how is this a Summer Ball? It looks like a funeral. Everyone's clothes are as dark as the night sky. Did everybody somehow miss the theme of tonight? I mean, okay, my dress isn't the most bright and cheerful but at least it has some colour to it, you know?"

"I totally agree. I mean, there was that one guy in the orange suit but—"

Elsa turned from the mirror to look at Honeymaren. "What guy?"

"Oh, I don't know. You'd already left after dinner but I was helping clear some dishes when I caught a glimpse of him. I couldn't really see properly but he definitely looked like he followed the theme of tonight. I think he brought a hand fan."

The princess was intrigued. "Sounds like my kind of outfit."

Honeymaren sat up and put the bits of makeup away. "Well, you need to get back into the ballroom anyway so you can go see for yourself."

"Right."

She offered Elsa a kind smile. "Just another hour or two."

When Elsa returned, she immediately saw who Honeymaren was talking about, and she was astounded.

The man was on the far end of the Great Hall, near the entrance, and his outfit was truly a sight to behold. He was a splash of colour among a sea of black and grey. She needed to get a closer look, but she was stopped by the feeling of a hand on her arm.

"How're you holding up, dear?" Iduna asked, squeezing her daughter's arm gently.

"Oh, you know. I can't stand the thought of speaking to another man, my feet hurt and I just want to lie down. Just another average ball."

Iduna knew that her daughter wasn't having the best time, so she brought up a game they'd started playing at balls when she was a teenager to keep themselves entertained. "Worst interaction you've had tonight: go!"

"Um…" Elsa scanned the room. "See that guy standing two tables to the left of the Archduke of Saporia? Navy blue suit, red bowtie. He came up to me drunk enough that he couldn't stand without swaying, tried to explain how all four of his lovers magically had their periods stop after he bedded them, then he threw up a little in his mouth. I think he needs a biology lesson. And to be cut off from the cocktail bar."

Iduna winced. "Yikes. You win on that one. The worst I've had tonight was a little boy rubbing a snotty hand on the hem of my dress. It would have been fine if his father had actually told him off for it, but the man just walked away and pretended it was someone else's child."

She sniggered. "So that's why you left to change."

Laughter rose from the corner where the man in the colourful suit was standing, the princess looking over longingly. Iduna followed her gaze and spotted the outfit. "Absurd, isn't it?"

"What is?" Elsa asked.

Iduna's nose crinkled as she shot the man an unapproving glance. "It's not exactly the outfit I envisioned someone to be wearing tonight."

"It seems formal enough," Elsa said in a measured tone, trying to stifle her irritation at whatever her mother was getting at.

"Technically yes, but honestly. It looks like he played dress up in his mother's closet before coming here. I mean, the fabric choice alone looks like it should have been made into a scarf. It's practically see-through."

"W-well, we can't really see from all the way over here I suppose."

"I saw him earlier. Didn't get the chance to speak to him though. He seemed completely uninterested. Strange for someone attending one of our balls."

"Hm." Elsa knew she needed to keep her mouth shut before she said something she would regret, and thankfully someone came along which distracted them from discussing the illusive suit.

"Queen Iduna!" An older man with a large grey moustache approached them and Elsa quickly recognised him as the Duke of Weselton. As Princess, she needed to know the faces of all of Arendelle's diplomatic partners. "It's a pleasure."

"The pleasure is mine," Iduna replied, shaking his outstretched hand.

"And Princess Elsa. What an honour it is to see you tonight, Your Highness." He bowed down low, causing the grey toupee he was wearing to flop forward, revealing his bald head. Elsa and her mother both glanced at each other, trying to contain their giggles.

"I'm glad you were able to attend the ball tonight, Your Grace." Elsa made a move to shake his hand like her mother did, but was caught off guard when the Duke of Weselton kissed her hand instead. Elsa was a princess and she was used to people kissing the back of her hand as a greeting, but the duke went to town, peppering it with kisses all over. She made a mental note to burn those gloves later.

"I must say, this is quite the shindig you have here," the duke continued. "Funny, I don't recall Arendelle ever holding Summer Balls as a regular event."

"We just thought it would be a nice change," Iduna reasoned. "Elsa's coronation is at the end of the year. Take this as part of her training in hosting royal events."

"Coronation eh?" The duke playfully nudged his elbow into Elsa's side and she grimaced at his obliviousness to the importance of personal space. "What a big day it will be for Arendelle. It's no wonder so many suitors have made an appearance tonight."

Elsa coughed. "Excuse me?"

"Well, my dear, seeing as you're to become queen, it's no wonder these rumours are starting to spring up everywhere."

"Rumours?"

"That this is a courting ball!" he exclaimed proudly. "The men of Arendelle show up tonight wearing their finest attire, all trying to get a word in with you. You're certainly well sought after."

Elsa was seemingly at a loss for words, so her mother took this opportunity as a chance to step in. "It's important for the princess to socialise with her subjects, but this is just a ball. If anything, courting arrangements wouldn't begin so publicly. I'd like to allow my daughter and her suitor to not be immediately bombarded by the public's attention."

"Ah, yes, of course. I understand the need for discretion regarding matters such as this. Though if you're looking for a suitable noble, I have a nephew who I think you'll take great liking to."

If this nephew was anything like his uncle, Elsa could think of nothing worse. She shot her mother a look that said help me and Iduna tried to diffuse the situation that was becoming almost unbearably awkward. "There's no need for that, Your Grace. My daughter is free to marry whomever she chooses to, whether or not he comes from a royal or noble background."

The duke let out a hearty laugh. "That's what I love about you Arendellians, you're all so progressive! A princess choosing who to marry regardless of class. New ideas are certainly catching on. Young royals have so much responsibility nowadays. The future of Arendelle and her rulers rests on your shoulders entirely, Your Highness." He addressed that last comment to Elsa.

"Yes, I suppose it does," Elsa agreed tensely.

"And I'm sure you'll make your choice for the betterment of the kingdom." The music in the room shifted as the band played a new tune, and the duke practically leapt for joy. "Oh, I love this song. Princess Elsa, may I have this dance?" He bowed and extended his hand, causing his toupee to fall forward once again.

Stifling her amusement, Elsa gave him a charming smile and politely declined. "I'm honoured, Your Grace, but I'm afraid I can't. Like you said, tonight there are many bachelors who want the chance to share a dance with me, so you can understand that I wouldn't want that opportunity to be taken from them by someone already so accomplished."

"Oh. I see. Of course," he said, looking slightly dejected.

"But my mother would love to share a dance with you."

The Duke perked up immediately, meanwhile Queen Iduna looked at her daughter with a mixture of shock and betrayal. "Wonderful!" He took Iduna by the hand and led her towards the dancefloor. "Come, my dear. The waltz awaits!" She turned to shoot her daughter a dirty look and Elsa hid a grin behind her hand.

Now there was a matter of that man.

Elsa weaved her way past those dancing in the centre of the room, clinging to the wall where others were hovering, either because they were too timid to ask someone to be their dance partner or they didn't like dancing at all. The splash of colour kept disappearing and reappearing, winking at her through the wall of darkness that surrounded him. Then, blue eyes met amber ones and Elsa saw him. He couldn't have been that much older than her, maybe a year or two. He was speaking with some other men who were attending the ball, all of them laughing and having a jovial time, but then Elsa blinked and he was gone.

She looked around confused, seeking him out. Had she imagined him? No, that wasn't possible. Honeymaren and Iduna had seen him too. He wasn't just a figment of her bored imagination.

There he was again! He was cheersing with a taller blonde gentleman, a bright glint in his eye. He winked at him. Then he saw the princess approaching and he vanished from her sight.

"I'm going insane," Elsa muttered to herself. "Excuse me?" She tapped the shoulder of the blonde gentleman. "Who was the man you were just speaking to? The one in the orange suit."

"Good evening, Princess." Tall Blonde Man bowed respectfully. "You must be talking about Ronaldo. Why are you looking for him?"

"I'd simply like to meet him, and in all honesty, I feel as if he's avoiding me," she admitted.

The man's lip curled up in a coy grin. "I'm sure he's not doing anything of the sort. He's just not… never mind. Stay right here. I'll find him."

Before Elsa could say anything, Tall Blonde Man was gone. She didn't have too much time to dwell on that strange interaction though, as less than a minute later, Tall Blonde Man returned, with Orange Suit Man — Ronaldo — in tow.

His outfit was truly one to behold. The base of the suit seemed normal enough, just brighter than what other guests were wearing. A white dress shirt and pants the colour of sand, with dress shoes an equally muted shade of brown. What truly set him apart was the jacket, making him look like a flame among the darkness. The material was shimmery, and while it flowed, it wasn't flat. It was as if there was a breeze constantly blowing at him making him seem like a billowing fire, despite the fact that the air was completely still. He even had a hand fan that matched. It was like looking at a mythical creature. A phoenix maybe. Elsa would have loved to be seen in something like that.

"Princess Elsa," he said, his tone dripping with disinterest. "My friend told me that you'd like to meet me."

Tall Blonde Man left so the two of them were alone, the people around paying them no attention.

"Yes. It's Ronaldo, isn't it? How are you enjoying the ball?" Elsa tried to strike up small talk as she'd been taught to, just as a princess should.

"It's a bit of a bore if I'm honest," he replied indifferently. "I thought this was a summer event, yet I seem to be the only person who's dressed as such." With a flick of his wrist, the large hand fan unfolded and Elsa had to remind herself that it was all just an outfit, and pyrokinesis was a thing of fiction.

"I have to say I agree with you. It seems people are forgetting the importance of themed parties nowadays." She was grateful that Ronaldo opened up the conversation like that, because it made the transition to her next comment feel so much more natural than it otherwise would have. "Speaking of, your outfit is really amazing."

"Oh, you think so?" He gave Elsa a genuine smile, turning on the spot so she could see the whole thing. "You wouldn't be the only one."

"It's like nothing I've ever seen before. Did you have it specially made?"

"That I did," he affirmed. "You don't find coats like these hanging around any old shop."

"It's incredible. Who is your tailor? I know of some members of the royal court who could greatly benefit from a tailor as talented as yours," she lied. Ronaldo didn't have to know that Elsa was making these inquiries for her own personal benefit.

"I'm afraid my suitmaker is quite exclusive, Princess," he replied without an ounce of apologeticness in his voice. "Casual work only, and a very private person."

"Would they still be private if I was offering a royal job proposal?" Elsa pressed on. She was insistent. She wanted that suitmaker.

"I swore myself to secrecy," he said almost playfully. "But you should check out Mr Løgn in the village. That's all I'm allowed to tell you, I'm afraid."

"If this suitmaker is so secretive, you'd think that the outfits they design would be a little more inconspicuous," she mused.

Ronaldo shrugged. "As I said, this was a special request."

"Of course." Elsa gave him a polite smile. "Well, thank you for your recommendation nonetheless. I should pay Mr Løgn a visit soon. One of his talented workers must be behind this."

"You do that, Princess." He bowed and she curtsied before he returned to Tall blonde Man and the rest of their friends, while she made her way to the front of the Great Hall where she would undoubtedly receive an earful from her mother for leaving her with the Duke of Weselton.

It was only when they parted ways that Elsa realised Ronaldo was the one man that night of suitable age who didn't try to make a move on her. She didn't quite know what to do with that knowledge.

XXX

"Honeymaren. Kai."

The ball had ended. All the guests had gone home, some single, some with partners, and most drunk. Arendellians were party people. What else could be said? After Queen Iduna retired for the evening, Elsa finally had the privacy she desired with her two most trusted allies in the palace.

"That was a lovely ball," Kai said casually, only to stumble over his words when Elsa tugged her gloves off her fingers and tossed them into the fireplace she had lit despite the fact that they were in the middle of summer. "Or not…?"

Honeymaren shared the same sentiment. "I thought you liked those gloves. What happened?"

"The Duke of Weselton happened," she replied with disdain. "But that's besides the point. I need you two to find someone for me tomorrow. As soon as you can. You know the man who came to the ball in the coral coloured suit?"

Kai still looked fairly clueless, but Honeymaren was quickly catching on. "You can't be serious"

"I'm dead serious." Elsa met them with her serious gaze. "He has a suitmaker somewhere in the village. Supposedly they only do casual work, but I would like them to work for me full time. I don't want to be stuck in my father's old clothes in the future. I want an outfit like the one Ronaldo was wearing tonight. One to call my own."

"The queen isn't going to like that," Kai reminded her.

"My mother isn't going to like anything about the me I keep hidden, so I might as well go by my own terms," Elsa argued. "Ronaldo wouldn't give me the name of his suitmaker. They're apparently a very private person. The only lead he gave me was Mr Løgn's shop in the village, but I know his work and it doesn't match what I saw tonight at all. It doesn't add up. Do some digging around. Check either stores in the area. Maybe Madam Frosk's place. Or Miss Sy."

"She's serious," Hoenymaren murmured to the person who was now her investigative partner.

"Find that suitmaker, Pay them whatever you need to, and keep things anonymous for now. They can't know it's me who's hiring them." Elsa's fists clenched at her sides. "No one can know."

This story is also available on AO3. I also have a Twitter where I post behind the scenes content, polls, writing updates and more. Both are under the same username kalesalad003 and the links are in my bio!