WARNING

This story contains character deaths, sexual themes, graphic violence, swearing, triggers and psychological themes.

Please read at your own discretion

CHAPTER 17

Anna stood near the grand staircase, smoothing out the fabric of her deep blue gown, but her hands wouldn't stop trembling. It wasn't the banquet that made her nerves fray, nor the prospect of standing in a room full of nobles who whispered behind silk fans. No, it was the thought of leaving Elsa behind.

She swallowed hard, then turned to Honeymaren and Nokk, who stood attentively in front of her. Honeymaren's usual composed expression softened slightly, as if she could sense Anna's hesitation. Nokk, ever still, his sharp blue eyes piercing, waited without a word.

"If anything happens to my sister, I need you to notify us immediately," Anna said, her voice firm despite the lump in her throat. "I don't care how small it seems—if she so much as has a bad dream, I want to know."

Honeymaren nodded, her hands clasped in front of her. "I understand, Madam. I'll watch over her personally."

Anna's chest tightened, but she pressed on. "She's been… better, I think. But we never know when she'll ever get one of those episodes. It's hard on her, and I don't know what I'll do if I'm not by her side when she needs me the most. I've already failed her once. If I do it again I—"

Honeymaren's lips pressed together, understanding. "I'll make sure to watch over the Lady and be there when she seems like she's going to have an episode. I will send word."

Anna turned to Nokk, who hadn't spoken a word. He stood like a statue—rigid, unmoving—but she knew better. His loyalty to Elsa was unquestionable. She took a step closer, lowering her voice.

"Nokk, please," she pleaded. "If she isolates herself again, if she doesn't eat, if she—" She stopped, inhaling shakily. "If she starts slipping away, I need you to tell me."

Nokk, ever silent, gave a single, sharp nod. That was all she needed.

Anna exhaled slowly, but the weight in her chest didn't lift. She turned back to Honeymaren. "She's been sleeping a little better, but if she wakes up panicked, just… sit with her, will you?"

"I will," Honeymaren promised.

Anna swallowed past the lump in her throat. She could do this. Elsa would be okay. She had to be.

Still, doubt gnawed at the back of her mind.

"I don't know," she murmured, fingers twisting in the folds of her gown. "Maybe I shouldn't go."

A loud sigh came from behind her, and she felt Kristoff's large hand settle on her shoulder.

"Anna," he said patiently, "she'll be fine. You know she's in good hands."

"But—"

Kristoff shook his head, giving her a look that was both knowing and exasperated. "We've already delayed enough. If we don't go, it'll be rude to the royal family."

Anna's stomach twisted. She knew he was right. They had sent their acceptance weeks ago—it would be a slight if they changed their minds now.

She shifted on her feet, torn. The thought of Elsa waking up in the middle of the night, cold sweat clinging to her skin, eyes wide with ghosts of the past—Anna wouldn't be there to soothe her.

"I don't like it," she admitted, voice barely above a whisper.

Kristoff sighed again, softer this time. He stepped in front of her, brushing a stray auburn curl behind her ear. "Look, we'll just greet a few people, see the king, and then we'll head back. We don't even have to stay for the whole thing."

Anna bit her lip. That was… manageable.

"Okay," she said finally. "But the second something happens—"

"We'll be on the first horse back," Kristoff promised with a small smirk.

Anna turned to Honeymaren and Nokk once more, her expression serious. "I mean it. The second anything feels off, send word. I don't care if it's in the middle of the ball—I'll leave."

Honeymaren nodded, unwavering. "You have my word, Madam."

Anna exhaled, forcing herself to believe it. But as she turned to leave, doubt still coiled in her stomach like a knot that refused to loosen.

She just hoped that when she returned, everything would be the same.

The grand ballroom of the palace was breathtaking, a sea of gold and deep crimson, the flickering chandeliers casting an ethereal glow over the finely dressed nobles. The hum of conversation filled the air like a symphony of whispered notes, blending seamlessly with the soft melody played by the musicians in the corner. Anna had been to gatherings like this before, but tonight, she felt more like an imposter than ever.

She kept her chin high, her practiced smile in place, nodding and laughing at the right moments as she and Kristoff moved through the crowd, greeting those they had come to see. They exchanged pleasantries with longtime acquaintances, their conversations as light and inconsequential as the feathers adorning the noblewomen's gowns.

"Rapunzel, it's been too long," Anna said, her voice bright despite the tightness in her chest.

"Oh, it certainly has," Rapuzel replied, taking Anna's hands in hers. "I was beginning to think you had hidden yourself away permanently!"

Anna forced a small laugh. "If only I had the luxury! But you know how it is—responsibilities never seem to end."

Rapuzel gave her a knowing look, her painted lips curving into an amused smile. "And how is Elsa? I've heard little about her lately. I'm worried."

Anna's fingers clenched slightly around the stem of her champagne glass. The question was innocent enough, but it still sent an uneasy ripple down her spine.

"She's... doing much better," Anna said, keeping her voice even. "Stronger with each passing day."

It wasn't a lie. Not entirely.

Before Rapunzel could press further, another friend swooped in, launching into a story about an outrageous affair involving a noblewoman's stolen jewelry. Anna let the conversation wash over her, nodding when necessary, but her thoughts were elsewhere.

Elsa.

Was she eating well? Was she sleeping? Had she gone on a walk? Had she—

"Anna," Kristoff's voice cut through the fog in her mind. She blinked up at him, her hands gripping her skirts more tightly than necessary. He gave her a reassuring smile, his warm brown eyes steady.

"She's fine," he murmured just for her to hear.

Anna exhaled softly, nodding. She had to believe that.

Kristoff was soon pulled away to talk business, his presence quickly swallowed by a group of well-dressed men who spoke in low, serious tones. Anna watched him go, feeling oddly unmoored without him by her side.

She turned back to her friends and forced herself to focus, pretending that the room wasn't spinning with thoughts of Elsa. The evening dragged on, a blur of laughter and polite conversation. The dance floor was alive with elegantly dressed couples moving in perfect rhythm, and Anna wondered absently if she should force herself to join them, if only to distract herself.

But before she could make up her mind, the air in the ballroom changed.

The music stopped abruptly, the conversations cutting off like a candle blown out in the wind. A ripple passed through the guests, a collective shiver of anticipation and duty.

The royal family had arrived.

Anna's breath hitched as instinct took over. Along with everyone else in the room, she turned toward the entrance, bending into a graceful curtsy as the heavy double doors swung open.

The room, once lively, had fallen into a hush so deep Anna could hear the rustle of her own gown as she lowered herself.

She kept her head bowed, her heartbeat steady but her mind restless. The presence of the royal family always carried weight—an invisible pressure pressing down on everyone in the room. And though she had done this a hundred times before, tonight, her heart clenched differently.

Anna had done well to keep herself composed throughout the evening. She smiled, exchanged pleasantries, laughed at the right moments—doing everything expected of her as the lady of the Bjorgman household. But even as she stood among familiar faces, nodding at trivial conversations, her mind remained elsewhere.

Then she saw him, her dear friend.

Jack stood on the other side of the banquet hall, a storm trapped in human form. His expression was blank, but Anna knew him well enough to see the irritation simmering beneath the surface. His posture, stiff and unyielding, resembled a man shackled to his fate rather than attending a grand ball.

Beside him, Lady Tatiana clung to his arm with the confidence of a queen staking her claim. Her posture was impeccable, her chin held high, and her smirk spoke of a satisfaction that made Anna uneasy. She looked like a woman who had already won—parading her victory for all to see.

But then Tatiana saw her.

Anna didn't flinch under the weight of Tatiana's stare, but she felt it—the flicker of recognition, the way Tatiana's smirk faltered ever so slightly before hardening into something more calculated. A moment passed, then another, before Tatiana withdrew her hand from Jack's arm, letting it slip away with a slow, deliberate movement.

And then, she walked away.

Not with Jack. Not toward anyone else.

Straight toward Anna.

Anna felt a tightness settle in her chest, but she kept her face serene, her smile polite. Whatever Tatiana wanted, it would not serve Anna to meet her with hostility. Not here. Not now.

"Lady Tatiana," Anna greeted with a gentle incline of her head.

"Madam Bjorgman," Tatiana responded, her voice as smooth as silk over sharpened steel.

The hostility was there, lurking beneath the surface, so subtle yet impossible to miss.

"How wonderful to see you here tonight," Anna continued, keeping her tone light, despite the underlying tension.

Tatiana smiled, but there was no warmth behind it. "Oh, the pleasure is mine," she said sweetly, tilting her head ever so slightly. "I was beginning to wonder if you'd even attend. I'd heard you've been… preoccupied as of late."

Anna felt the jab, though it was wrapped in such well-mannered packaging that it might have seemed harmless to an outsider.

"My husband and I wouldn't miss such an important evening," Anna replied smoothly. "Besides, it's good to catch up with dear friends."

Tatiana hummed, her eyes flicking momentarily to where Jack still stood. Anna noted how he hadn't moved an inch in Tatiana's absence. He hadn't even spared her a glance.

Tatiana's fingers ghosted over the pearls at her throat, a casual gesture that Anna suspected was anything but. "You've always been so gracious," Tatiana mused, her tone carrying the barest trace of mockery. "Even when it must be… difficult."

Anna met her gaze, steel wrapped in silk. "I've always believed in handling things with grace," she said, her voice gentle but firm. "It's important to know which battles are worth fighting and which ones aren't worth the trouble."

A flicker of something—annoyance, perhaps—crossed Tatiana's face, but she recovered quickly, smiling again.

Anna knew what this was. A test. A quiet assertion of dominance. Tatiana wanted to see if Anna would falter, if she could sink her claws into something that would make Anna crack.

She wouldn't give her the satisfaction.

Tatiana exhaled, a soft little laugh escaping her lips. "Well, I do hope you enjoy the rest of your evening," she said, reaching out as if to touch Anna's arm but stopping just short. "We'll have to speak again soon. Perhaps in a more… intimate setting."

Anna's smile didn't waver. "I'd like that."

Tatiana's smirk lingered just a moment longer before she turned and walked away, her gown trailing behind her like a shadow.

As soon as she was gone, Anna let out a slow, measured breath.

A deep voice spoke beside her. "You handled that well."

She turned to see Kristoff standing there now, his expression unreadable, but his tone held something that almost sounded like approval.

Anna sighed. "I have a lot of practice."

Kristoff's gaze flickered toward where Tatiana had disappeared into the crowd. "She has a talent for finding weak spots," he muttered.

Anna nodded. "Yes. But she won't find any in me."

Kristoff's lips twitched slightly—almost a smile, but not quite.

"Good."

Anna let out a small sigh as she slipped away from the lively heart of the ballroom, retreating toward the quieter edges of the grand hall. The glittering chandeliers above bathed the entire room in golden light, but here in the back, away from the crowd, the glow was softer, more forgiving.

She had done enough smiling for the evening. Enough polite laughter, enough nodding along to conversations that held no weight. Her feet ached in her shoes, and the tightness in her chest—born from worry for Elsa, from the exhausting dance of high society—never truly faded.

She just needed a moment to breathe.

But fate, it seemed, had other plans.

A chorus of light, airy laughter drifted toward her like a breeze laced with thorns. She straightened just in time to see them approaching—a small flock of noblewomen, their gowns elegant and their expressions anything but warm. At the back of the group, Lady Tatiana stood slightly apart, her fan raised delicately to her lips, eyes gleaming with thinly veiled amusement.

Anna knew that look. She had seen it before.

Like a predator watching its prey struggle just for the thrill of it.

"Madam Bjorgman," one of the women cooed, a saccharine smile on her lips. "How charming to find you here. Hiding, are we?"

Anna smiled politely. "Not at all. Just taking a moment to enjoy the evening."

The women exchanged glances. "Oh, of course. Balls can be… overwhelming for some," another chimed in, her voice light but her meaning sharp.

Anna tilted her head slightly, feigning innocence. "Oh? I wouldn't know. I quite enjoy them."

The first woman let out a soft, practiced laugh. "How admirable. Not everyone can maintain their composure in such… refined company."

Anna's smile didn't falter. "Refined company does make all the difference, doesn't it?"

The woman blinked, her lips pressing into a thin line. The others exchanged glances, seeking reinforcement.

From behind them, Tatiana sighed, finally lowering her fan. "Now, now, ladies," she murmured, stepping forward with the grace of someone who always knew she was the most important person in the room. "We mustn't be so cruel. I'm certain Madam Bjorgman is doing her best to keep up."

The air around them tightened.

Anna turned her gaze to Tatiana, measuring her. "How kind of you, Lady Tatiana," she said smoothly. "Though I do wonder—why would you assume I need to keep up? Have I fallen behind?"

Tatiana smiled, slow and deliberate, as if savoring the moment. "Oh, not at all," she said, her tone carrying the warmth of a dagger wrapped in silk. "I simply meant that stepping into noble society after being reclusive for a while must have been… an adjustment for you. It can be difficult, can't it? Learning the new unspoken rules, knowing one's place."

Anna's fingers curled slightly into the fabric of her gown.

There it was. The insult, barely hidden beneath polished words.

She could feel the others watching, waiting, their expressions expectant, as if waiting for Tatiana's perfectly placed remark to strike its mark.

Anna, however, had never been one to simply stand still and take a hit.

She exhaled, slow and measured, before speaking. "Oh, I don't know," she said, tilting her head as if truly considering it. "I think I learned rather quickly. After all, I've certainly learned which people are worth my time and which… aren't."

The smile on Tatiana's lips faltered for only a fraction of a second—so brief that had Anna not been watching for it, she might have missed it.

The other noblewomen stilled.

Tatiana, to her credit, recovered swiftly, letting out a soft chuckle. "A sharp tongue," she mused. "Though I suppose one must compensate when they lack other advantages."

Anna felt something cold coil in her stomach.

Tatiana leaned in slightly, her voice just loud enough for the others to hear. "A word of advice, dear madam—grace is not just about wit. It's about knowing when to hold one's tongue. Some people mistake sharp words for power. But true power is knowing when you don't need to use them at all."

Anna held her gaze.

Tatiana smiled, triumphant, before giving a small nod. "Excuse me, ladies," she murmured, stepping back and retreating toward the other side of the hall, where she could still watch from a distance.

The moment she was gone, the other noblewomen resumed their whispers, their eyes flicking back toward Anna with a renewed sense of purpose. They would continue. Tatiana had left, but she had left the battlefield open.

Anna took a slow breath.

Let them try.