It was early morning, and the sunlight filtered through the edges of the curtains of the bedroom in Corona's embassy in the Southern Isles. Inga thought of all the rooms where she had woken up. Most often in her own room in the castle in Arendelle, of course. Then she thought about the different curtains in the various rooms that she and her brothers would use while playing hide and seek as children. The curtains in each room were slightly different – different enough that she knew immediately the time she had woken up in a different room, even in the first moments of groggy confusion. She had left her crinoline in the middle of the floor, and James had to have seen it when he had come in that morning. Hiding under the covers had been futile. Henry had assured her no word had been spoken of that.

A few leaves hit the window, even though the trees near the embassy were already bare. As she opened the window, a note flew in. The paper was her mother's personal stationery, but not her mother's writing.

Arendelle

November 1st, 1875

Inga-

Please let us know how you are.

Love,

Aunt Elsa

Why would Elsa be writing from Arendelle? Did she know? Perhaps she knew what Henry had been doing. And if her aunt knew anything, then her parents surely knew now.

November 1st, 1875

Dear Mother,

I'm going to try to return home very soon. Perhaps I shouldn't have left when I did. I hope the harvest festival went well without me there. Please hug the children for me.

Love,

Inga

Inga folded up her letter and sealed it. She couldn't be sure if it was safe to send a letter, but she needed to let her family know that wherever she was, she was safe, or at least safe enough.

She opened the window. "Gale?" she whispered. There was nothing for a minute, and she had never sent a letter from this far away. Henry had never talked about a delay, but perhaps he was used to this.

Finally, a breeze blew in through the window.

"Please, get this to my mother," she told the wind spirit. The breeze picked up the letter as she let go of it. "Thank you," she murmured, closing the window.

Inga sank by the window, breaking down crying. Writing the date at the top of the letter, she had realized that it was almost their wedding anniversary. Did Henry remember? She desperately wanted to find him, but he would want her to be safe with her family; she knew this. Lars had mentioned the ship coming in a few days. As much as she didn't consider Corona home, it would be safe. Safer than here. And their families needed to know what was going on.

She looked over at the wardrobe. Her travel dress had been cleaned and was hanging on the wardrobe door, ready to wear again. She would pull herself together. Whatever Lars and John had figured out while they were here, she needed to know. And what might they still be keeping quiet about Henry and the Ambassador from Corona? What could be gained from keeping it quiet that they were missing? Why not let people know what was going on?

Henry opened his eyes. He had lost count of the days he had been in this place now. How many weeks had it been? He wasn't sure. They preferred not to tell him, and the guards laughed whenever he asked. From the tiny window near the ceiling of his cell, he could tell that it had stopped raining, and there was a tiny bit of sun. At least there was that.

He supposed he could be thankful that he had no real physical injuries, but it was a small consolation. As the days wore on, Henry's imagination went to all the things that could be happening to him here, but didn't. Perhaps he'd read a few too many adventure novels. This imprisonment of his was entirely too boring, just being stuck here with his thoughts. Maybe that was the point. He felt grateful that they were leaving him alone.

Henry's thoughts on the day in question went back and forth frequently. How could he let the man, the second in line to the throne here, get away with insulting his family and his wife's family all in the same breath? Officially speaking, he and this man were in the same position, with only one person in line for the throne between the current monarch and their eventual succession. Of course, in Henry's case, that person was his mother, and he himself was unquestionably the next in line, with no disputes whatsoever on that matter. The Southern Isles could quickly solve its problem by allowing the daughter of the oldest son of the King to take the throne after him, but she had married the prince of some small territory that no longer existed. To Henry, that seemed like a situation beneficial to all involved, but nobody could agree to it, so here they were.

Henry had kept quiet on the matter for so long. He had visited the Southern Isles multiple times over the years and never once said a word insinuating bad doings on their part. There were occasional words from them hinting about their true feelings, but he could ignore those. He thought there had been an understanding; they would keep quiet about their thoughts about Inga's family in Arendelle and his own family in Corona, and he could keep his feelings in check. But misunderstandings happened all the time. It had clearly been a good deal of luck, particularly the luck of not having met alone with the prince who was second in line before that day.

"His Royal Highness, Prince Henry of Corona," the royal steward announced. Henry had been looking forward to meeting this particular prince of the Southern Isles. The second son of the King was one of the few he hadn't met yet. If it weren't such a sensitive subject, he would have joked to Inga that he wanted to have a prize when he'd met all of the sons. But that wouldn't be a nice thing to joke about, not with her.

Henry responded with a light nod of his head, which the older man seemed to find insufficient. No matter. The old prince might have ten years on Henry's father, but there was no difference in position. They were both second in line. Henry wasn't about to give some show of groveling for the sake of this man's feelings.

"Your Highness," the elder prince sneered with a veneer of politeness, "I've heard so much about you, and now we finally meet."

"I've been looking forward to this meeting," Henry replied somewhat truthfully. After all, there were now only four princes of the Southern Isles he hadn't met.

"Please, do sit down, Henry, and you may call me Ludvig," the older prince began jovially.

"Thank you," Henry acknowledged, sitting in the nearest chair, "Ludvig, you are very kind."

"And where is your wife?" Prince Ludvig asked Henry, "I've heard so much about her, as well."

"She is visiting her parents," Henry answered, not wishing to give more detail than necessary.

"Ah, will we be getting another announcement soon? My brother Klaus was telling me that always seems to be her excuse for not traveling."

"What do you mean?" Henry knew perfectly well what Prince Ludvig was talking about. The year before, when he had met with Prince Klaus, the third or fourth in line, it was hard to keep track. Inga had been pregnant, but that wasn't the real reason she hadn't traveled. Still, it wouldn't be very diplomatic to be fully honest: Henry's own stories of his visits to the Southern Isles had only made his wife's desire to stay away from the place stronger.

"Oh, excuse me," Prince Ludvig apologized. "It simply seems a pity that she is so rarely seen in public."

"Never mind that," Henry shrugged, not wanting to dwell. "Let's get down to business. What did you wish to discuss with me?"

Prince Ludvig leaned back in his chair, fiddling with the pen in his hand. "You have a fine family, Prince Henry, you know that. You're a lucky man."

"Thank you," Henry said, not sure if he was comfortable with where this was leading. "I understand your elder daughter just got married last month? Congratulations."

"Ah, yes. Yes, thank you. I hope to find an appropriate match for the younger daughter soon enough."

"I hope that she is interested in marriage, as well," Henry commented, not particularly caring how Prince Ludvig took the statement.

"We had been, in fact, looking into the possibility of your wife's oldest brother. It seems they met when he was residing in Corona."

"Well, yes, but he's married now," Henry reminded him.

"Indeed. We had no idea until after the marriage had been settled."

"I assure you, it was not a sudden decision," Henry insisted, feeling more uncomfortable, but he wanted to believe this man, unlike the others, was simply making awkward conversation rather than leading into some inquiry into his wife's sisters. It seemed fairly certain to Henry that this was the only reason they asked for him personally and weren't satisfied to meet with Ambassador Pincar. Any discussion of fishing rights could have been settled without his help.

"It's a pity that long engagements do not seem to be popular in Arendelle," Prince Ludvig insinuated with a tone that implied he was thinking about more than the most recent wedding. "It's so much more proper, and the political implications are less sudden."

"They don't believe in political matchmaking in Arendelle, and neither do we in Corona," Henry insisted, "so there's less negotiation."

"Of course, of course, political gain is always beneficial when it happens."

"I suppose that's true," Henry hemmed, knowing he couldn't exactly speak on the matter without sounding like a hypocrite. "At any rate, enough of personal matters. What did you wish to see me for today? As far as my family is concerned, I had promised mine I would be home yesterday. I stayed because your people were quite insistent that it was necessary for me to be here."

"I did not realize my request was such an imposition on your time."

"I apologize for sounding ungrateful, but most of the business with your family this month, beyond the simple railroad and fishing negotiations, has involved requests to introduce my wife's sisters, as if I am here for matchmaking. Our kingdoms are long past defeating the Huns, so official Royal Family presence seems superfluous."

"I had not intended such a thing, I promise," Prince Ludvig protested. "You will, of course, be sensitive to our family's current predicament."

"It seems like there could be a more sensible solution than all of this rushing to marry."

"There has been discussion of other possibilities, but we have not… how shall I put this? Exhausted the potential heirs."

Henry knew that the other prince was probably sounding evasive for a reason, but he would act naive and test out the more innocent explanation first. "Ah, yes, I remember that a few of your brothers who have taken colonial posts have unrecognized marriages. Will those marriages now be officially recognized?"

"Oh, well," the prince said, clearing his throat, "there are certainly some factions looking to do that."

"Factions? You talk like it's some kind of civil war coming up."

"One can never be too certain," Prince Ludvig warned in a tone Henry found rather ominous. "As you may be aware, there has already been some amount of unrest."

"Pincar was advising me of some of the mysterious deaths of heirs who might be made legitimate, yes."

"Indeed. And there have been some unfortunate attacks based on misunderstandings. That is, in fact, related to why I was asking you here."

"Go on…"

"Ludvig Holst would like you to attend the Opera tonight."

"Who is Ludvig Holst?" The name meant nothing to him.

"Do you not read your own papers? Mr. Holst owns several of them in Corona."

"They're not my papers, then, they're his. We do our best to ignore what's written in those things. They do as they like."

"Interesting. I often forget that you don't keep your press in check. I strongly recommend it, as it would be in your interest to do so."

"And Mr. Holst will help me with this?" Henry sneered. As much as he was getting annoyed with meetings like this one, at least the intentions here were somewhat in the open.

"He has things he would like to discuss with you."

"If he owns several papers in Corona, perhaps he could discuss it with me when I return," Henry interjected, not wanting yet more delays getting home. He would talk to Pincar, make him take over with anything in the Southern Isles. "If we have nothing more to discuss, I would like to be going."

"Very well. Shall I call a carriage? I believe we brought you here in one of ours?"

"Yes, thank you."

Henry picked at the meager rations they'd given him for his meal that day. His only regret was not being able to tell Inga where he was. Of course, he had no idea where he was. He wasn't sure why they were keeping him, either, and he wondered what the story they might tell to the outside world. The carriage never did get him back to the embassy.

John walked with a group of the embassy staff who had the morning off, heading for the Pleasure Gardens. They had left before most people were even eating breakfast, to make the most of their time. John had pretty much learned anything he could about the schemes of the embassy servants from listening in on their dinner conversations. Anything more might give away the fact that he knew their language. Meeting some of the local acquaintances might help determine who these contacts were who had been offering bribes to the embassy servants, at least.

"Hey, cousin!" he heard one of the footmen call out. He looked across the avenue they were on and saw a young man walking over who bore a striking resemblance to the footman from the embassy.

"Oh! I have some news for you, but they can't know," the cousin said, nodding at the rest of the group. "And is this the American you told me about?"

"That's him, yes," the footman said.

The cousin looked John up and down before using what sounded like his best English. "You're American? I work at their embassy. Where are you from in America?"

"Louisiana," John replied with the answer he gave even when he wasn't hiding anything. Most people in America weren't especially interested that his family was originally from the West Indies colonies of the Southern Isles, but here, they'd be entirely too interested.

"Really?" the cousin asked. "Don't they speak French there?"

"Everyone where I lived spoke Creole," John said, somewhat truthfully. He spoke French, and only forced himself to speak Creole to avoid the taunting of the children in the fields. The master's family spoke French whenever they had foreign visitors, and John's mother had hopes that John might impress one of them and get to travel Europe. That was before the War, of course.

"What is Creole?" the cousin asked him.

John recited a children's rhyme in Creole with the thickest accent he could muster, as far from his French as he could manage. His mother would hate it.

"That's like no French I know," the cousin laughed, then looking at the footman, switched to French. "I think we will be safe speaking French. None of the others know it."

"Are we going to be alone?" Elsa asked when her sister let her into their room.

"Kristoff is here, and I assume anything you need to tell me-"

"Yes," Elsa replied quickly, shutting the door firmly behind her.

"What is it, then?" Kristoff asked, emerging from the bathroom, checking that his robe was on.

"So… I've told you before, I make a point of never spying…"

"Yes, of course," Anna acknowledged.

"You two should sit down," Elsa insisted.

When both of them were seated on the bed, Elsa closed her eyes and concentrated. In the middle of the room, a table appeared. Anna and Kristoff immediately recognized their daughter sitting to one side. The bearded man sitting to the other side took a moment longer to recognize, since they hadn't seen him in over a decade.

"Is that… Lars?" Anna gasped. "Where are they?"

Elsa put her finger to her lips.

"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."

The conversation faded.

"What was that?" Kristoff asked.

"That," Elsa began to explain, "is Corona's embassy in the Southern Isles."

"Oh," Anna swallowed, "that's where Henry was supposed to be staying, but…"

"Wait," Kristoff interrupted. "Do you know where he is?"

"I think he's at the palace there," Elsa said, "along with Corona's ambassador. But no one is acknowledging that they're even missing."

"Did Inga know about this?" Anna asked. "She's supposed to be at some spa resort. How did she get to the Southern Isles?"

"I don't know," Elsa said, "but did you know that she hadn't heard from Henry?"

"She had mentioned something," Anna said. "Have you been in touch with Rapunzel? I haven't heard from her recently… I would have thought Corona would know if anything was wrong."

"I haven't told her anything," Elsa told them. "They have, however, had problems with their telegraph lines. Particularly the lines to Corona. I don't think that's a coincidence."

"Have the foreign telegraph lines been fixed yet?" Rapunzel asked her father's council member.

"What are you talking about?" the man replied.

"The telegraph lines? The ones that haven't been working for the last month?"

"Your Highness, the telegraph lines have all been working, well, almost all of them."

"Almost all?"

"Well, the main telegraph line to the Southern Isles hasn't been working. This is true."

Rapunzel swallowed. This much she knew. She had sent her son Henry to the Southern Isles two months before, and she hadn't heard from him in several weeks.

"Did anyone think that I might wish to know about this?" she asked the council member.

"It… it was a small matter. We've been looking into possible solutions."

"Are you aware that we have had no communications of any kind from our embassy in the Southern Isles for nearly a month now?"

"I'm not in the habit of meeting with the foreign minister, Your Highness, so I was unaware."

"You will excuse me, please," she told him.

"Yes, Your Highness," he replied, bowing before leaving the room.

She looked around the room; her ministers, it seemed, couldn't be counted on to talk to each other when they worked in the same wing of the palace, and she was fairly certain she couldn't trust the ambassador from the Southern Isles to tell her the truth. She needed to write to Elsa.

"Good morning, Lukas," Anna said, entering the nursery. The little boy ran up to her for a hug, and she picked him up. The youngest was still asleep in the corner.

"Hello, Mormor!" Aggie said, popping out from the pillows stacked on his younger brother's bed.

"Oh! Hello, Aggie! What are you doing in the nursery?"

"I was bored," he shrugged.

"What about Arianna?"

"She was playing something else," Aggie sighed. "I was looking for Aunt Elsa, but then I decided to see if Lukas was awake."

"Well, he is, isn't he?" Anna smiled.

"Mormor," Aggie said seriously, "if Aunt Elsa is here, does that mean Mama will be back soon?"

Anna swallowed hard. He was a quiet boy, often keeping to himself. He usually didn't say when things were bothering him, but it was obvious they did.

"I don't know, sweetheart," she said, giving a squeeze to Lukas in her arms. "But let's go find the others."

Anna set Lukas down and he ran ahead of them down the hallway, while Aggie took her hand and walked more slowly.

Anna supposed that they should have one of the tutors start giving Aggie and Arianna lessons again. Inga never made them do any lessons when their father was away, but usually, he was only gone for a week or two, so it never was an issue. Aggie had only just turned eight, but in a few years, he would be expected to spend most of his time in Corona. He was, after all, the next in line after Henry. She valued the time they had with him in Arendelle, even if it wasn't always under the best circumstances.

"Oh, hello Mother, hello Aggie," Sofia said, walking down toward them with her sister Marie, "and hello Lukas," she smiled, picking up the little boy who had just run to her.

"Hello," Anna smiled. "Do you two have plans today? Marie, how are your studies?"

Marie looked up, frowning. "Do you have to ask that every time you see me?"

"I'm sorry," Anna apologized sincerely. "You can tell me something else to ask you about."

Sofia looked over meaningfully at Marie, who nodded at her older sister. "Mother," Sofia said, "Marie's tutors make her cry every day. And she doesn't deserve it. She's doing everything she's supposed to."

"What?" Anna asked in shock. "Marie, why didn't you say something?"

"What's the point?" Marie snapped.

"Marie, we could get you new tutors," Anna insisted, "but we can't do that if you don't tell us there's a problem."

"It's just Madame Latrec," Marie told her, "the others are fine."

"Your French is perfectly good," Anna assured her, "so if you don't want to bother with a French tutor anymore, I don't see why you need to do that. Sofia, do you know how Madame Latrec is with Karl and Linne?"

"When they show up, they're fine," Sofia laughed.

Anna tried to hide a smile. "We'll worry about that later. I suspect Arianna makes that difficult right now. Maybe we should have her join in on lessons. Aggie, too."

"Shouldn't we wait until Inga gets back?" Sofia asked curiously.

"I think Arianna has gone without lessons long enough now," Anna sighed, trying not to let on just how worried she was inside. "But for now, would you like to join us outside?"

The girls agreed, heading out with them to the brisk fall air. Aggie ran ahead to join them once they stepped out the door.

As Anna reached the garden, the wind briefly whipped up, and a letter landed in her hand.

Kristoff had noticed the unusual breeze when he stepped out of the stable. He was used to Gale coming fairly often by this point, but this seemed a bit more intense than a simple letter or visit, this felt urgent. He dropped what he was doing and followed straight to the garden.

He found Anna standing there, staring at the letter while Sofia and Marie played with Aggie and Lukas in the garden.

"Hey!" he called over, and the younger boy ran over to him. Kristoff picked up Lukas and sat him on his shoulders.

Anna came out of her daze enough to walk over to Kristoff.

"What is it?" Kristoff asked.

Anna carefully opened the letter in her hands.

"It's from Inga," she breathed.

"Where is she?" Kristoff asked, trying not to show his nerves.

"She doesn't say," Anna said, handing him the brief note, "but she says she shouldn't have left when she did. She wouldn't say that unless…"

"Something is wrong. Or a lot of things…"

"We need to find Elsa," Anna said.

"Aunt Elsa?" little Lukas cooed from Kristoff's shoulders.

Kristoff looked over at Aggie, who seemed to be engaged with the older girls. He hoped none of them had overheard.

Lars sat alone in the breakfast room. John had left early with staff who had the morning off, this time intending to stay with them to see what he could learn. John had brought up the newspaper to him before he had left, and Lars read the articles, seeing if they had printed anything remotely true. The papers here printed what was convenient to the royal family, which could often be very entertaining, but the entertainment was never at the expense of the House of Westergaard.

Inga walked in, looking alert, but hardly well-rested.

"Good morning," Lars greeted her.

"Good morning," she replied. "Is John here, too?"

Lars shook his head. "Not this morning. Some of the embassy staff have gone out for the morning, and he's joined them."

Inga nodded, going to the side table to get herself something to eat before sitting down across from him.

"Are you planning to do anything today, then?"

"It will depend on how John's morning goes," Lars told her.

Inga looked pensive, then set down the toast she had been nibbling on.

"I should mention that I wrote a short note to my mother this morning. I didn't tell her my location-"

"She'll see the postmark," Lars protested, "how do you think-"

"No, Lars," she interrupted, "I've failed to think through a lot of things recently, I admit that, but this isn't one of them. There will be no postmark. I didn't send it through the post."

Lars raised an eyebrow. "Is that so?"

Inga nodded. "It's how Henry was writing to me, at least until a few weeks ago."

"You haven't told me what it is," Lars protested.

"Is there a safe place to talk?" Inga asked, looking around.

Lars looked at her. She had changed back into the very plain travel dress she had arrived in a few days before. She wouldn't stand out. He stood up and waved for her to follow him.

They left through the front door, since he didn't want to raise suspicions if someone was keeping an eye on him.

He offered Inga his arm, and they left through the front gate as if on a casual stroll on a sunny morning.

"So, how have you been sending letters?" he asked.

"How much do you know about the Enchanted Forest?" Inga asked.

"The stories I heard about the place when I lived in Corona were always a little vague," Lars admitted. "John visited up north a few times while he was in Arendelle, though. He mentioned something about spirits, but there were… there were soon some more pressing matters, so I didn't inquire further about that."

Inga slowed down, frowning. "How did he manage to visit there? They have rules about outsiders."

"Yes, I'm very aware of that. The rules of the autonomous zone were something I did learn about before I even arrived in Arendelle. I don't think it's necessary to expose the people who helped John visit. And, of course, your family is exempted from those rules, anyway."

"Well, obviously," Inga replied uncomfortably.

"Back to the topic at hand," Lars said. "What does this have to do with the letters?"

"The wind spirit delivers letters for us," Inga explained.

"How many people know about this? You said Henry has used it."

"Yes. My mother, of course, and my aunt. My father knows, but rarely sends letters. Henry's mother often uses it, even after Arendelle got a telegraph, because it's not likely to have anyone spying."

"This would explain quite a few things," Lars acknowledged.

"I'm sorry we didn't tell you about this before," Inga apologized. "I'm sorry things weren't handled very well."

Lars stayed silent. It had been nearly eleven years since Queen Anna had given him the ambassador position and he and Elizabeth had moved to America. There was no longer any point in worrying about the finer points of how the Queen had handled the situation. He realized he was probably scowling.

"Lars?" Inga asked.

"Sorry," he replied.

"Why haven't you gone to see… him… if you know where he lives?"

"Who?"

"You know exactly who I mean," she said, stopping and looking pointedly at him.

"Why should I?" Lars asked. "What would be the point? I know who he is, I know where he is. John has told me anything I need to know about his life since then and that of his family, and there's absolutely nothing I could want or need from him. My life is easier ignoring his existence."

Inga started walking again. "I'd think… I don't know, I'm not you, obviously, but I'd think if I were in your place, I'd want to know, to see for myself."

"Well, you're not me, are you? You've known your father your entire life, and you know that he is your father, and it's obvious to everyone that he is your father, and…" Lars stopped. He wished he could go back and erase what he had just said. It wasn't Inga's fault, and nobody's fault, not really.

"And what?" Inga asked.

Lars sighed. Now that he had said all that, he needed to finish. "He's a good man."

"Sorry," Inga mumbled.

"No, no, I'm sorry. I let myself get upset about it. John offered to take me to see him once, years ago, before he had gone to Arendelle."

"So he's known all this time?"

"I told him very soon after meeting him," Lars informed her. "He was looking to change his name, after all… Perhaps it wasn't the most prudent decision on my part."

"Oh," Inga snorted. "It certainly would have raised some interesting questions, I have to admit, if he had shown up as John Westergard instead."

Lars nodded, giving a little bit of a smile. They walked on in silence for a while longer.

"We should probably return to the embassy," he said. "Do you think you'll get a reply soon?"

"If there's a reply, it will find me," she told him.

Lars took in a breath.

"There's clearly a lot I don't know."