Chapter 1 - Coronation Day

Queen Elsa's coronation day dawned bright and hot. The sun beat down on the castle island, where Arendelle's Royal Council, foreign dignitaries, and ordinary townspeople gathered for the festivities. The screech of sea birds and tang of the salt air hung over the castle and the causeway that connected it to the mainland. Townspeople flowed along the causeway, dressed in their best finery, eager for a glance of the new queen who was rumored to be quite beautiful, but whom few had ever seen. Anyone who had seen Princess Anna was quite happy to report that she was as beautiful and vivacious as anyone could want. Expectations ran high for Queen Elsa.

Flowers bloomed wherever flowers could be planted. Bright flags snapped merrily from the battlements. A maypole covered in ribbons went up in the main square, ready for the dancing after the coronation ceremony. The dance in the ballroom was reserved for the queen's councilors and the visiting dignitaries. The common folk would celebrate in the courtyard and town square. Regardless of where they were, every person in Arendelle would celebrate today.

Lord Councilor Bern straightened his gray formal jacket and tried to look as dignified as his rank required, but without much success. Excitement was in the air, children were running and hollering, the very cobblestones beat with the refrain of change. This day would be different from any other day in Arendelle's history; Bern could feel it. He'd never seen a coronation before. At the late king's coronation, he'd been only a curly-headed toddler, but his father had told him of it many times. His father served as the late king's Councilor for trade. Bern had been raised in the life of a merchant. He was known for integrity, rather than close dealing - while that meant he wasn't the richest merchant, it also meant that when his father's health failed, the council looked no further than to his son for a replacement. One year ago, Bern had been sworn in to the duty and honor of King's Councilor for Economic Affairs, the youngest in history.

After today, they would officially be known as the Queen's Council. The queen would stop ruling as regent, and accept her duties and honors for herself, rather than on behalf of her deceased father. Bern wondered if that meant they would see her more often. In his year on the council, he'd seen her only a dozen times in the council chambers. He'd heard she was ill; pale, wan, and quiet, she certainly looked like an invalid. There was nothing wrong with her mind, though. The queen's grasp of trade issues was competent. She understood Arendelle's economic needs thoroughly. Lord Councilor Gustav, who was in charge of foreign affairs, was more frustrated with her. Bern suspected that he'd taken the occasion of the coronation to invite more foreigners than Queen Elsa would have liked.

Bern strolled through the castle grounds, every so often turning to look at the spectacle of the open gates. Occasionally he nodded as someone bowed in response to the ribbons on his jacket that marked him as one of the seven members of Queen Elsa's Council.

He saw Vilrun, Captain of the Castle Guardsmen, walking through the lanes of the castle island. His green coat was immaculate and the tall black boots shone with polish. Bern was glad he didn't have his job today. Lord Councilor Gerhard, Captain Vilrun's superior, who handled public order for Arendelle, was a strict taskmaster. Vilrun and his guardsmen had been preparing for months for the coronation. When Vilrun recognized Bern, he momentarily brightened.

"How are you sir?" he asked.

"Quite well," Bern replied. "How are things going today?" He meant the question conversationally, but Vilrun was too focused on his job to be conversational.

"We estimate two hundred people have come over the causeway already, and the numbers are increasing. We expect double that amount by tonight. Other than a few lost children, there haven't been any problems yet. The escorts for the foreign dignitaries report no incidents. All constables are on patrol in the mainland village. Things are going smoothly so far. Have you seen anything I should be concerned about?" Vilrun reported.

"No, I haven't noticed anything in particular," Bern said.

Vilrun nodded. His dark eyes under his black, bushy eyebrows were already scanning the people behind Bern like a hawk searching for prey. "Noted. Let me know if that changes." He moved off.

Bern didn't interrupt him with a farewell. He went back to watching the merchants who hawked wares along the walled paths leading to the courtyard. This was where his father had insisted he start his education, learning markets and the people who sold in them. He knew many of the regulars by sight, but the coronation had drawn in many new faces as well. Kristoff, a dedicated ice harvester he'd known for a few years now, had set up his booth next to Flora, who was selling berries. Bern applauded their ingenuity and stepped up to buy a cup of berries and ice.

"Raspberries, milord?" Flora offered. The plump, happy woman had her brown hair twisted into a knot at the nape of her neck. Her white apron was stained red and pink with berry juice. "Crushed, and with a cup of ice, it's a treat fitting for this day!"

"I hope to see you back here working together at every festival," Bern complimented them, fishing pennies out of his coin purse. Flora crushed the raspberries in a bowl with a spoon while Kristoff shaved a block of ice, catching the shavings in a cup. He offered the cup to Flora, who covered it with raspberries, then handed it to Bern with a flourish.

"We need the cup back, unless you want to buy it," Kristoff said as Bern started to walk away.

"I'll stay," Bern said, licking raspberry juice from the ice. "How's business?"

"Fine. Flora tells me you're actually a councilor and not just someone's assistant. Aren't you a bit young?" Kristoff said.

Bern estimated he was only about five years older than the ice seller. They were about the same height, but Bern had black, curly hair where the ice harvester had blonde hair, straight as straw. Amused at his brashness, Bern replied, "the youngest in history. I took my father's place. He's in bad health."

"Don't you mind Kristoff," Flora said, "he's no notion of proper manners. He spends all his time with ice and reindeer."

"Councilor," the weaver in the next stall said with a bow. He was Flora's husband, a thick man with nimble fingers and a sagging chin.

"Von," Bern replied. "It's good to see you. The blankets look well made." He admired the weave as Von held up a woolen blanket. "Evenly dyed, too. Good work. If they don't sell today, I'm sure you'll find a market by fall."

"Thank you, milord," said Von with another bow. He refolded the blanket and replaced it on the stack. It didn't look like he'd sold anything yet. Bern cast a doubtful eye at the sky, which was clear and bringing the day's heat with it. Von wasn't going to sell any blankets today, he judged.

"Iceman, I need ice blocks," someone interrupted them. Bern stepped to the side to allow the merchants to continue to do business.

Kristoff stepped back to the shed housing his sled and reindeer. The reindeer snorted affectionately in Kristoff's hair. Kristoff waved him off, slammed the pick into the ice block, wrenched it up, deposited it on his customer's cart and covered it in an insulating layer of sawdust and straw. "There you are," he said. The customer paid Kristoff, and wheeled off.

"Ice cups!" a group of youngsters called in excitement. Bern watched approvingly while a mob of children claimed their coronation day treat. No council meeting could ever be as invigorating as watching the markets and merchants work.

Kristoff and Flora laughed and talked with the children while they handed over cups of ice covered in crushed berries and collected pennies.

Bern finished off his cup of iced berries and handed his cup to Kristoff who plunged it into a washtub.

"Will you be at the ball, milord?" Flora asked him.

"Yes," Bern said. Arendelle hadn't hosted a ball in more than fifteen years, and likely wouldn't host another one for the next fifteen years. No one who could wangle an invitation was going to miss the ball tonight.

"We'll be in the castle courtyard," Flora confided. "Von and I. I'm bringing our baby so she can say she was at her queen's coronation. Do you think the queen will come out?"

"I don't know," Bern said. "She's sickly. I hope to see her at the ball, but I don't know how long she'll be able to stay."

"Is she as beautiful as everyone says?" Flora asked.

"Yes," Bern said, and he couldn't keep the smile off his face.

Kristoff's reindeer ambled up and started snuffling through bags and boxes.

"Will you be in the castle courtyard too?" Bern asked Kristoff.

Kristoff was busy searching through bags. He found a carrot.

"No, Sven and I are headed back up to the lake for another load of ice as soon as we sell out here." Kristoff offered a carrot to his reindeer for a slobbery bite, then took the next bite.

That's probably best, Bern thought to himself.