There was a slight chill in the air, even though it was almost May. The threat of a rain storm loomed out over the ocean, but up the fjord the sun was shining.
"Captain Olsen!" the young guard saluted as he and the captain switched places. The captain nodded, stepping away to the courtyard.
"Hello, Siggy!" Henry called out, taking a moment to look back and check on Inga's progress with the baby, but since he had little Lukas on his shoulders, he couldn't really turn all the way around. He gave a quick nod before turning back around.
"Henry! Good to see you back in Arendelle. How was Wesselton?"
"Pretentious, as usual. Next time I'm going to make my family come with me to keep me sane. I don't know if Arianna would have forgiven me if I'd missed her birthday next week. She's been reminding me that she'll turn nine."
"I guess mine won't be able to say she's older now!" Siggy laughed. "But Inga, what do you think about taking your whole family on one of Henry's trips?"
"I suppose one of these days he'll talk me into it," she smiled, trying to keep Lydia from throwing herself out of her arms and to the ground.
Arianna and Aggie were walking slowly behind them, looking almost like twins, talking about something or other, when Siggy's daughter walked in the castle gate.
"Hallie!" Arianna shouted, running up to greet her.
"You'd think she was the one who'd been away," Henry laughed.
"Papa, can Arianna and I go play?" Hallie asked her father.
"Yes, sweetie, but try to be home for dinner."
The two girls ran off to the castle gardens, leaving Aggie looking dejected.
"Come here, Aggie," Siggy called, waving him over. Aggie ran over, and Siggy hoisted him up on his shoulders.
"You two go take a walk," Inga told them, "I should take Lydia back to the nursery."
Henry gave her a kiss on the cheek, and headed out toward town with Siggy and the young boys, while Inga walked back inside with the squirming baby.
Inga woke up alone in the embassy bedroom. She had become used to this the last few months, but she still didn't like it. It was one thing when she was younger, feeling like she was escaping the nursery with a bedroom all to herself, but not now. She didn't want to be alone, not this way. A few nights without Henry when she knew where he was and he was writing to her several times a day was very different.
It was still overcast outside, but the rain wasn't as bad as it had been the day before. In fact, she thought it looked like the rain was going to stop at some point in the next hour. After dinner the night before she had told Lars that she would like to come along on any errands he and John were doing today. She wasn't sure what they meant by that, and she also wasn't sure if she was supposed to keep her presence in the Southern Isles a secret now.
She looked around for the clock. Was there one? She couldn't remember. She had laughed at Henry when he didn't know where to find the clocks in Arendelle, but could she really be so judgemental?
She put on a dressing gown that was hanging in the wardrobe. Had it been there yesterday? If not, when had the maids hung it there? She had too many questions, and she couldn't worry about trivial things like this.
Perhaps Lars would be at breakfast. No matter, she wasn't going to dress up unless they were going out somewhere. Was she up for breakfast? Breakfast wouldn't smell quite as strong as dinner did, and the most important thing was asking questions, figuring out just how much of a mess she had gotten herself into with this latest idea of hers.
There was a distinct chill in the air, and after Gale had taken Anna's letter to Elsa, she closed her bedroom window quickly.
"I'm surprised that Inga hasn't written," Anna sighed, looking down from their bedroom window at the bustling morning activity in the courtyard. "You'd think she would want to be home for the festival, even if she's not feeling up to helping with the planning this year."
"I suppose she hasn't had much time for herself, and maybe she really doesn't want to see anyone this year."
"You don't think she's… I mean, you know the rumors…" Anna suggested.
"It's best not to pay attention. You know that as much as anyone."
"I hope you're right. I'm never sure whether to trust her judgement or not," Anna sighed.
"I know what you mean. We could send someone up to that spa she went to. I know she said she wanted to be alone, but maybe you could visit?" Kristoff offered. "They wouldn't turn you away, even if she did rent the whole place out for herself. A little excessive, if you ask me, but-"
"I'll write to her," Anna interrupted, not sure if she wanted to hear where his train of thought was heading on this subject. "And, no, Kristoff, I won't pry. I'll just say we miss her and I hope she'll write back soon."
There was a knock at the door before Kristoff could respond, and he got up to open it.
"Mama, Papa?" Sofia asked, "Can I visit Meibel today?"
"Of course, Sofia," Anna replied. "I think she'd like the company. Are you going to play piano?"
"I think so. We usually do. We need to get another piano, you know."
"I'll keep that in mind," Anna said.
"Thanks," Sofia said, turning to go.
Kristoff watched as she hurried down the hall, closing the door after a moment.
"She's eighteen, does she really feel like she still has to ask permission for everything?" Anna sighed.
"She's careful, though. That's good," Kristoff reminded her.
Anna sighed and nodded. Sofia looked the most like herself of all the children, but she could be such a stickler for following the rules, and sometimes Anna had to resist the urge to laugh. But Kristoff was right, it was good that she was so careful.
Anna glanced out the window again. "Marie was telling me yesterday evening that the younger children were talking about going to look for clams along the fjord today."
"I don't think we've done that in years," Kristoff laughed. "I suppose Peder taught them."
Anna smiled. "Let's go check on them, maybe they'll catch us some lunch."
0o0o0
Inga could hear some animated conversation from down the hall as she made her way to the breakfast room.
"You're sure about Ludvig Holst?" Lars was asking as she walked in.
"Found yesterday morning," John replied. Both were at the table facing away from her, and neither man noticed her standing in the doorway.
"Good morning," she announced, looking at them both.
"You're feeling better, I hope?" Lars asked her, standing up to pour himself some coffee.
Inga nodded as she walked over to the table to get herself some bread, settling for butter and jam on top, just like when she was a child. Lars sat back down at the table and focused on meticulously adding sugar to his cup. Inga sat down at the other side of the table, and took some time to give a similar level of attention to spreading the butter and jam on her bread.
"I hope I wasn't interrupting anything important," she said, breaking the silence.
"Well-"
"We were about to discuss a change of plans," John piped in, looking at both of them.
"Am I still invited?" Inga asked.
"Oh, right," Lars sighed, drumming the table with his fingers.
"What were your plans?"
"We have tickets to the opera matinee in a box next to a person of interest. John has a friend who was going to come along with me, but we had been thinking you might go instead, as long as nobody recognizes you."
"Why would you need to change plans?"
"Do we need to, Lars? You know who has the box on the other side, right?"
Lars looked to Inga, then looked over at John. "You think that would work?"
Inga began eating her bread and jam, hoping the two would come to a conclusion.
"I think it would be worth a try," John replied quietly.
"Fine. Inga, how is your Portuguese?"
"That's an odd question," she snorted, "but I was practicing with the Portuguese ambassador in Arendelle this summer."
"Perfect. The Portuguese ambassador to the Southern Isles and his wife are in the box next to ours."
"And you want me to translate? Listen in on them?"
"Something like that," Lars replied.
"And what would John's friend have done in my place?"
"Don't worry about that," John replied quickly.
"You know you have me curious now, what kind of friend is this?" Inga felt suspicious about the way Lars had brought up mentioning this friend of John's.
"Inga, it's best if you don't ask too many questions," Lars interrupted. Inga bristled, but it had been less than a day since she'd nearly gotten detained by the Southern Isles customs official, so she knew she needed to trust Lars's instincts. Still, she had questions.
"I still don't even know why you left Arendelle, John," Inga said, pointedly ignoring Lars, "and nobody else seems to know, either."
"Is this about Renata?" John asked her.
"It wasn't, actually," Inga replied cautiously, "but now I can guess why she seemed particularly upset."
"It wasn't anything like that. She was a friend. I didn't make any promises or do anything that would, you know…"
"Fine, fine, I'll drop the subject," Inga sighed. "So, Lars, what is the opera?"
"Are you familiar with the Volsunga Saga?"
"Of course," Inga replied.
"The opera house is performing a new German opera based on that."
It was early August, and the sun had been up for several hours. Inga spread a bit of brown cheese on her bread. She had always preferred jam and butter when she was younger, but they had received a gift of brown cheese from a local farmer on their honeymoon, and Henry had insisted on having it ever since then, and Inga had decided that she did, in fact, like it.
Baby Lydia was playing on the floor nearby. The nanny had brought her in when she had gotten fussy, and was threatening to wake her brother Lukas who was still asleep. This happened enough mornings that it felt more like the normal state of things than a special occurrence. Rather like their visits to Arendelle.
"Again?" Henry exclaimed at the telegram.
"What is it this time?" Inga asked, looking across the breakfast table.
"They want me to go to the Southern Isles again. I have to put it off somehow. Your birthday is next week, that's as good of an excuse as any."
"And then your birthday, and then Aggie's birthday, and our anniversary, and then I'm sure you can find enough other reasons. Why not just say no?"
Henry sighed, looking out the window. "They want someone from the royal family there, and Mother doesn't want to leave Corona right now, you know, with Grandfather… and of course those people asking for me to travel there don't consider Hilde high ranked enough."
Inga took in a breath, listening to Lydia playing on the floor nearby. Inga took a moment to consider her words. There was always just one more quick diplomatic trip they wanted Henry to go on, and it was never somewhere Inga was ready to take the children. She was tired of it, but it was, still, family asking. "Henry, what's the worst that will happen if you say no?"
Henry stood up, and after a few paces, sat down next to Lydia, picking up one of the toys his daughter had tossed aside. "It's… I don't know, honestly."
"Use me as an excuse not to go, really," Inga insisted, getting down next to him. "Besides, you know what they say when you go away so often."
"Does it bother you? I swear-"
"It's not those rumors that bother me. They don't see your daily letters. It's what they say about me-"
"I'm sorry, but they're idiots. Those stories don't even make sense. You hadn't been to Arendelle for over a year when Aggie was born..."
"The problem is, aside from that, they're not impossible stories. Someone, somewhere, has done every one of those things. Just not me. Or you."
"Why not come with me this time?" Henry took her hand. "Is there any reason not to travel right now?"
Inga hesitated. "Anywhere but there. You know how I feel."
Inga stared out the window of the embassy bedroom. She could see rooftops of the city stretching out for miles around, and realized that she wasn't actually sure where she was. A map would help. Surely they'd have a map of the city at the embassy, but she really didn't know. How many places had she traveled outside of Arendelle? Corona, of course, and she and Henry had traveled with the children to a few small countries near Corona. Perhaps it didn't matter. But perhaps it should matter a great deal.
The sky had started to clear up, which would make dressing for the opera that afternoon considerably easier. What did one wear to the opera? She had been to one or two in Corona, but they always told her exactly what to wear. Of course they would have something here. She simply needed to ring for a maid.
"Come on, Arianna!" Linne shouted, "Karl found the best spot over here."
"You really think we'll find clams here?" Arianna asked, trying to hide her annoyance as she stopped to switch the heavy bag she was carrying to the other hand, and pushing her brown hair out of her eyes.
"Of course we will!" Karl insisted. "I told you, Anton and Peder showed me last year!"
"Fine," Linne replied. "Arianna, do you have the shovels?"
"Yes, that's why I was so slow," the younger girl whined.
"I have the baskets, and Karl is the one who knew where the best spot was," Linne explained.
"Fine," she sighed, handing a shovel to each of the older children.
Karl had started to fill his basket very quickly, and Arianna got the idea that he did this more often than he admitted to. She managed to collect a few empty shells, but all of the live clams she saw quickly slipped out of view. Maybe if they had waited for Aggie, he could have helped her find more. Aggie would be mad at her.
"Karl, can you show me how you do it?" she asked.
"You can watch me, but I'm not helping you dig," he snorted.
"Hey, you two, look!" Linne called out, pointing down the fjord as the distant glimmer came into focus.
"Aunt Elsa!" Karl shouted, hopping and waving.
As their aunt rode up closer and saw them waving, she slowed down and turned in their direction, stopping at the shore and dismounting the Nokk, who proceeded to dissolve into the water as the children ran up and hugged her.
"You're all getting so big," she sighed, "even you, Arianna."
"I told you I was growing," she declared, looking at Karl and Linne.
"Aggie is almost as tall as her now," Karl laughed. "But I think he was in the library this morning. We couldn't find him when we came down here."
Their aunt smiled at them. "Where is everyone else?" she asked, looking around.
"Marie is with the tutors," Linne informed her, "and Mama and Papa are...I don't know where they are, actually."
"Well, let's go inside and check on them, unless you were in the middle of something?"
"I'm done," Arianna told her, picking up her own bucket with its handful of shells.
"Linne? Karl?" her aunt asked, looking at the other two.
"My basket is almost full," Karl admitted, heaving it up and picking up his shovel.
"Oh, fine," Linne sighed in exasperation, following her older brother.
Arianna took her aunt's hand, almost without thinking, as they walked back to the castle. She thought she could see Aunt Elsa wiping her eyes a little, but she figured it was probably the fall leaves. They could do that to people.
As they climbed up the stairs to the door in the castle wall by the fjord, the door opened suddenly.
"Elsa?"
"Oh, good, Anna, I was looking for you," their aunt said in relief, adding, "you too, Kristoff."
"There you are, Inga!" Lars called as she came down the stairs. The maid had just finished helping her into the dress, which was tighter than the previous evening's dinner dress, and it had taken some determination from both of them.
"It's not yet one. How long does it take to get to the theater?" Inga asked.
"Well, hopefully there's no traffic," Lars sighed.
John was waiting just outside the door with the carriage, and helped Inga in. She was thankful the sky had cleared, because this dress would have been dragging through puddles, and she wasn't sure how clean these streets really were.
Lars sat across from her as the carriage started moving.
"So, you didn't tell me, will anyone at the theater know who I am?"
"I don't expect they will. Officially, you're still in Arendelle, after all, and as far as the officials know, you are Miss Bjorgman, traveling here with your brother." Lars paused a moment, giving a slight frown. "Speaking of which, did they really let you on that ship with no documents?"
"I- I'm not sure. Captain Olsen took care of getting the ticket for me."
"I remember Captain Olsen," Lars nodded. Then he twisted his mouth a bit. "And what is his story for buying a steamship ticket in Bergen?"
"He was escorting me to the spa, and then checking in on a friend from school who lives in Bergen."
Lars gave an odd smile. "Good. That's just questionable enough that everyone will be focusing on the wrong details of the story."
"So you've heard the rumors, too," Inga frowned.
"I've heard at least a few of them," Lars replied, "and I've heard the stories about you and the captain of the guard."
"He and Isabel have been friends of our family for a long time," Inga blurted out.
"Of course, I know," Lars told her, "I wouldn't worry about it, but I'd recommend not getting defensive. I don't think there's anything to it. If those stories were true, you wouldn't be here, and Captain Olsen would be finding extra friends to go visit in the countryside while you were away. But nobody else knows you're not at that spa, so it's a good cover."
"Is that supposed to make me feel better?"
"Most of what I've heard about the rumors is what you've written to Elizabeth. We have very few secrets."
"Elizabeth knows the truth about you now?"
"Yes, I told her years ago. Not as soon as I should have told her, but soon enough."
"Why didn't she say anything to me?"
"I'm not sure." Lars looked out the window quietly.
Inga's mind wandered back to the rumors. She had managed to hear a few of them, and she and Henry would do their best to make a joke of the stories about how they supposedly spent their lives, but sometimes it would hurt, especially since she knew that Isabel heard these stories, too. She certainly had no reason to be involved. "You said that most of the rumors you've heard are from my own letters to Elizabeth. Does that mean you've heard others elsewhere?"
"John was privy to quite a few, working in so many places around Arendelle. I asked him to tell me things he heard. He doesn't gossip."
"And have you heard anything elsewhere?"
"There are some gossip papers in Corona, you know."
"Yes, I'm well aware of those." Inga closed her eyes and stayed silent for the rest of the ride to the theater. As they arrived, Inga held her breath for a moment seeing the size of the crowd outside the theater. She knew that none of these people knew her, and her dress was neither too fine nor too shabby, so she wouldn't be a subject for anyone's talk.
They stepped out of the carriage, and before they even got to the door of the theater, John had left. Inga hadn't asked what John was going to be doing while she and Lars were at the opera. They got their programs, and were led by an usher to their box.
Lars leaned forward casually with a pair of opera glasses and looked around the theater. Putting down the glasses, he looked over at the neighboring boxes.
"Just as I expected, Mrs. Holst and her sister aren't here."
"Who is Mrs. Holst, exactly?" Inga asked.
"The wife of a cabinet minister."
"Ludvig Holst?" Inga asked, remembering the name she'd overheard John and Lars discussing just before she arrived at breakfast.
Lars looked at her. "So you did hear us. Let's talk about that later. You should sit to the left, near that wall. They haven't arrived yet, but the Portuguese ambassador and his wife usually take that box, and if his wife gets up during the show, I'll need you to follow her."
"What if I miss something from the opera?" Inga snipped. She really wanted to ask why they would care about the Portuguese ambassador's wife, but the time to question what she was doing was before she had left Arendelle. Lars seemed to know what was going on, she didn't, and yesterday that had nearly gotten her in trouble.
"I've got the libretto," Lars groaned, handing her the small booklet, "I suppose it would be a good way to pass notes, anyway."
"Do you have a pencil?" Inga asked, and Lars handed one to her immediately. She looked at her program, glancing at the singers with Italian names, most of whom, she was certain, were not actually Italian. Besides, they were singing a German opera, so what was even the point? She looked at the front again, and began decorating around the large W at the front of the composer's name.
"I'll be honest," Lars said after silently looking around the theater for a few minutes, "we're not entirely sure if the Portuguese Ambassador knows anything at all. With Mrs. Holst, I know what we're trying to find out. I really don't know what these two might know. I'm not entirely sure if he'll be bringing his wife today, but that's something more for you to find out."
"So…" Inga said slowly, feeling suddenly too exhausted to really react, "I'm just supposed to follow around a woman who may or may not show up, and may or may not be the wife of the Ambassador?"
"If the woman isn't his wife, that's something worth knowing," Lars said.
"What? Are you trying to blackmail him?"
"No, no!" Lars said defensively, "I just… you never know when this kind of information comes in handy."
"Really, what are we paying you for?" Inga snapped.
Lars stayed silent, returning to looking around the theater with the opera glasses. Inga looked around, wondering if there was anyone she had met before.
The theater was beginning to fill up, and she could hear the musicians beginning to tune their instruments. She supposed Frederick would be jealous if he knew where she was right now. She knew he had often spent his days off going to concerts in the larger towns.
The Portuguese ambassador and his wife sat down in the next box over, and Inga could understand them talking about the terrible traffic, but nothing interesting. They grew quiet along with everyone else as the overture began. It was rather loud, ponderous music, but she supposed the subject deserved that.
Her mind began to wander, and she thought about Henry. It had been too long.
The room was as dark as the curtains could make it on a summer afternoon, the heat from outside not quite overwhelming. Inga listened as Henry's heartbeat slowed down. He gave a contented sigh, his fingers wrapping around hers.
"Are you enjoying your birthday so far?" Henry asked her after a few minutes had passed.
"Very much so," Inga smiled, lying back on the pillow, looking at the familiar patterns on the ceiling above their bed.
"I'm going to draw you," he said, rolling away from her to reach for his sketchbook on the nightstand. "How would you like to be Artemis?"
"Goddess of chastity?" Inga laughed, leaning forward a little, then sitting on her heels.
Henry frowned playfully. "Fine, you won't be a goddess, then."
"There are other goddesses, you know," she commented as he began sketching her silently. She sat completely still, trying to see over the edge of the book as he worked.
"Ten years, you know," he mused, still busy drawing.
"What?" she stopped to think for a moment. "Oh! You're right."
"Shall I ring for James?" Henry smirked.
"You're terrible," Inga groaned, tossing a pillow at him.
"Sorry," Henry laughed before putting down his sketchbook. He reached over and kissed her. Inga took his hand, and their fingers interlaced. He laid down with his head in her lap. His eyes were closed, but he was smiling. She imagined he was still laughing silently at his own joke.
"We'll have to do something nice for our anniversary this year, of course," she reminded him.
"I'll take you somewhere."
"That would be lovely."
"Portugal?"
"I was thinking of a weekend away, but somewhere warm might be nice."
"Well, perhaps we can go to some place closer," he said, going back to his drawing.
Inga wondered how much time they had before her birthday party.
"Where did my parents say they were taking the children this morning?"
"I think they were going to the pond near the cabin."
"Good, then they'll be at least another hour, even if they leave right after lunch."
Henry set his sketchbook aside and looked at her. "I'll miss you next week."
"Let's not talk about that. You'll make it a quick trip, and then refuse any requests for the next year," Inga paused and gave a slight laugh, "unless it's Portugal. Then we'll all go."
"That works for me." Henry kissed her.
A soprano hit a high note, and Inga realized she hadn't been paying attention to the opera or to the Ambassador and his wife in the next box over. She glanced over at Lars, who seemed to be paying attention to the stage, and didn't seem concerned with whether she had lost track of eavesdropping. The two people on stage were declaring their love for each other. She had lost track of which characters were which, and she didn't recognize this scene from the sagas she remembered hearing as a child.
She quickly leafed through the libretto to the words they were singing, and skimmed back a page or so. This was definitely not how she remembered the story she heard as a child, but she supposed at some point, someone in Arendelle had decided to take out the detail of the long lost siblings getting married. This opera seemed to relish in it. She looked over at Lars, who was frowning and shifting in his chair, but focused on the stage. He had been paying attention. Much to her relief, the act ended a moment later.
"So…" she hemmed as the rest of the audience began chattering. "I- I don't know if I wasn't paying attention as a child, or if the name changes fooled me..."
"No, I hadn't remembered that, either," Lars snorted. "I apologize, I really hadn't read the libretto beforehand."
"Or the program," Inga added, glancing at hers, realizing she hadn't bothered reading the dramatis personae when she had been looking at the names of the singers earlier.
Lars nodded. "I can understand the composer wanting to combine some of the characters, and the saga is a bit long-winded and confusing in places, but if he's already changing details, why make Siegfried and Siegelund both long-lost brother and sister as well as lovers? He could have picked one or the other."
Without thinking, Inga shifted slightly away from Lars. "That is an awkward artistic choice, isn't it?"
There was a rustling in the next box from the ambassador's wife. She had to follow, that was why she was here. Lars scribbled something on the libretto and handed it back to her.
If you don't learn anything from her, I'll call John back and we'll go.
Inga nodded in agreement, handing the libretto back to him.
In the ladies lounge, the ambassador's wife sat back on a sofa, fanning herself slightly. Inga wasn't sure if she was supposed to speak to her or if she was supposed to keep it a secret that she could understand, but as it was, she felt awkward being in here without saying anything.
"Are you enjoying the opera?" Inga asked, feeling like she was reciting from a textbook exercise.
"Oh! No, not at all," the woman laughed. "I hardly know a word of German, so it's all obnoxious noise to me. My husband feels that we must attend, though."
Inga sat down at the sofa across from the other young lady. "I suppose it's important to him."
She gave a smirk. "Well, it's important to me that he not attend with anyone else. I've seen plenty of other dignitaries and officials coming with a different lady each week."
"Oh, I wouldn't know," Inga hemmed, now wanting to go back to the box, however uncomfortable she found the story line.
"Of course you wouldn't, I can tell you haven't been here before, and that gentleman you're with, don't worry, I haven't seen him, either. I pay attention to these things. Where are you from, anyway? Your accent is unusual."
"I'm from… I'm from the north," she replied, not in the frame of mind to maintain a good lie.
"Ah, well, in that case, you speak Portuguese very well."
"Thank you," Inga said, hoping she wouldn't need to reveal much more about herself.
"I should be getting back now, I think the next act is about to start."
Inga sat for a moment after the ambassador's wife left the room. She was ready to leave.
The theater had just quieted down when she returned to the box, so she was glad that Lars noticed her coming in. She shook her head to his unspoken question, and putting his finger to his mouth, left the box, she assumed to arrange for John to come back with the carriage. She stood by the entrance to the box, not wanting to leave again, but not sure where she should go anywhere. Luckily, Lars came back a moment later and motioned her to come with him.
The carriage was waiting right outside the theater door. They stayed silent until they were both in and the door closed.
"Did you learn anything?" Lars asked her before the carriage even started moving.
"She hates opera and she only comes here to keep her husband from, um, hiring women to come with him," Inga informed him, bracing herself as the carriage turned onto the main road.
"I see," Lars nodded, staring out the window.
"She told me she hasn't seen you here before," Inga added. "I was afraid to ask who she's seen in that box before today."
"It had been empty for the last month," Lars told her, "I only realized that Corona had a standing subscription a few days ago."
"That wasn't exactly the thing I was afraid to ask about."
"Everyone I asked said that Henry only went out when he absolutely had to while he was here. I think that's what you wanted to know."
"I didn't think..." she began before realizing it was pointless to argue the point and closing her mouth. Either he believed her, or he didn't.
There were more carriages in the road than there had been in the morning, and she had the feeling it would take them a while to get back to the embassy. It would be a long time to be sitting in silence. "That was an interesting interpretation of the Volsunga Saga," she said.
"You hate it, you can admit it," Lars smriked. "I took you along to talk to the Portugese Ambassador's wife, and you did that."
"Well, good. If we come back, I'm going to try my best to ignore the plot."
Lars chuckled.
"What?" Inga glared at him.
"Oh… I'm sorry, it's not actually funny, and I shouldn't laugh- well, maybe I should. I don't know. It's been long enough. I- I was reminded of when I had only been in Arendelle for a few days, I was talking to your father, and I began talking about Elizabeth, but I hadn't mentioned her name, and I think he thought I was talking about marrying you."
"You… what?" Inga held her head in her hands and began laughing.
"There was never any risk of that," Lars assured her.
"I almost think I should feel offended," Inga snorted, twisting her mouth. "But now I think I understand why you seemed so afraid of Father that one time…"
"Don't worry, that was cleared up. Your father's a good man. I hope you appreciate that."