Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I neither own the rights to Disney, Frozen, the Disney universe nor any of its associated media, derivatives or products. I do not profit from this work.

Summary: Two duchies rebel against the Southern Isles to join the Northern League, sparking conflict between the Isles and Corona. As the threat of war builds, Arendelle is caught between her allies, and the yet-unmarried Hans and Elsa—dangerous players in their own right—must weigh their options, while behind it all, a political mastermind plays chess with nations. (Pierced Hearts sequel.)

"I still don't think it's fair."

The queen sighed as she tugged the silk over her fingers. "Anna, really, it's not that big of a deal."

Her younger sister gave her a flat look, crossing her arms. "You shouldn't have to hide who you are to make them more comfortable."

"I'm not hiding who I am." The queen gestured to her gown, which the princess had to grudgingly admit struck the perfect balance between displaying her sister's powers and flaunting them. The dress—a regal but thoroughly mundane gown and vest in deep purple—had been embellished as if painstakingly embroidered with frost rosmåling in fantastic spirals, and the vest was clasped with a heavy pin made of ice in the shape of a snowflake. The queen saw her sister's expression and settled a gentle, albeit gloved, hand on her shoulder. "Anna, look at it this way: people don't carry swords into a christening, do they?"

"...No," her sister admitted grudgingly.

"Well, for as beautiful as my magic can be, it's nonetheless still dangerous." She pulled on the other glove with a shrug. "And this is a diplomatic situation. I think it's best if we approach this diplomatically, try to set people at ease."

"...Alright," her sister sighed. "I trust you. So long as you're not doing this—I don't know, for any sort of 'conceal, don't feel' reason. Alright?"

"Those days are long past," the queen reassured her, fixing her hair in the cabin looking-glass. "Besides, Hans is wearing his, too."

"Hans doesn't have your practice," Anna pointed out. "Speaking of which, where is he?"

"Up on deck, I expect. Do tell Kristoff to get dressed, will you? The captain said we should be arriving within the hour." She settled her crown carefully into her nest of pale hair. "That squall waylaid us quite a bit, we'll just barely be in time for the feast..."

"Yeah." Anna shuddered. The small storm which had beset the vessel some two days prior had been barely an inconvenience to the more experienced sailors, but to the two sisters it had been a nightmarish experience from which their nerves were still recovering. "I'll tell him. See you in an hour."

Elsa studied herself in the glass as her sister vanished, biting her lip. Anxiety had pushed her ordinarily fastidious nature into a fussy, almost obsessive state. Everything had to go perfectly at the christening, her mind insisted; although she knew this wasn't strictly speaking true, and although she was aware that the gossips would never be satisfied, she couldn't help but feel as if the next twenty-four hours would determine the fate of the rest of her life.

First the feast, then an after-dinner social hour with the Coronian royal family in the library. Then the christening tomorrow, a lady's tea, and the ball afterwards… She recited the itinerary as she ascended the faintly rocking steps to the upper deck. A farewell breakfast the morning after, and then home again. It was only three days, she reassured herself, barely more than two, even. She could handle that.

The air above-deck was fresh and cool in the spring sun, and smelled clean and salty. She breathed it in, the sun in her face. At the prow of the boat, near the wheel, she caught a glimpse of russet and white, and leaned against the wall near the door, crossing her arms with a smile.

The prince was deep in animated discussion with the navigator, gesturing to the open sea in the way that told the queen he was discussing some naval topic that was well out of her wheelhouse. His face was open and content, and his smiles—the genuine kind that he used when he wasn't trying to persuade somebody—came easily. For as much as she hated sailing, she loved seeing him like this; Hans had once told her that being at sea was the first time he'd ever felt really free in the course of a deeply unhappy childhood, and the delight he took in being on the open water had obviously not been diminished during his three-years' service in the navy. Even as she watched, he glanced over and saw her, and smiled broadly with a wave. Elsa brushed a stray strand of blonde hair out of her eyes, tugged as it was by the wind, and waved back.

Hans bade farewell to the navigator and approached, looking content and refreshed in the wind off the sea. She noticed his white cotton gloves had been shoved haphazardly into his jacket pocket. "My Queen," he greeted her, kissing her gloved hand. "You are looking lovely, if I might be permitted to say it."

"You're looking well yourself." She glanced him, briefly, up and down. The Arendellian naval uniform fit him well, and when she met his eyes again he was giving her a knowing smirk. She felt her cheeks color.

"Don't look at me like that."

"Oh? Like what?"

"Like—that. You smug bastard."

Hans actually laughed at that, leaning against the wall beside her. "How regal of you." Elsa stuck her tongue out at him. "I can see you've been spending a lot of time with Anna lately."

The queen rolled her eyes good-naturedly and looked out at the sea. The water, which had started off what she considered to be its ordinary deep blue, almost indigo color had been progressively lightening to match the shade of the sky as they left the darker and shadier realms of northern Arendelle and took out into the open reaches of the North Sea. "I can almost see why you love it," she murmured, watching the waves break and foam along the sides of the boat. "When it's calm it's almost beautiful."

"Beautiful things are always beautiful, even when they're not calm." His voice was wistful, but his eyes glanced to her. "But their beauty becomes a frightening one then."

"Stop trying to flirt with me, we're here on business."

"Our business, my queen, is flirting, at least on this trip." She acknowledged this with a grudging nod. "Your kingdom may favor the union, but the international community is notoriously more difficult to convince."

"Mm." She fiddled absentmindedly with the ring on her finger through the glove; the setting caught against the silk briefly and then disentangled itself. "We're probably going to face awkward questions," she added.

"Can't be any worse than what some of your sailors said to me." She raised an eyebrow, and he cleared his throat meaningfully. "They seemed to think I was, ah, 'sticking swords where they didn't belong,' in more ways than one."

Elsa choked, turning red. "Y-You're not serious?"

"There were a few insinuations that I may have seduced you to get off the charges for regicide. I decided not to dignify them with a response."

"Smart man." She tilted her head. "Twenty-five and still unmarried, well, people were bound to talk…"

"Twenty-five isn't that old."

"It is for a queen."

His shadow abruptly blocked the sun, and she looked up to find his green eyes burning.

"Well, we'll just have to fix that soon, won't we?" he said in that low, silky voice that sent shivers down her spine. Elsa opened her mouth desperately to respond, but felt the words die in her mouth as his fingers brushed back the unruly strand of blond hair behind her ear, down her cheek and, ever so briefly, against her neck.

"Um."

"At a loss for words, my queen?"

She rallied her mental defenses. "Smug bastard." She was rewarded with a deliciously devious chuckle.

"Elsa!"

She looked over abruptly and straightened up as Anna came bounding up the steps from the cabin. "A-Anna. Is something wrong?"

"I just saw a seagull fly past my porthole; that means we're close, doesn't it?"

"If we're close enough for gulls, we can't be far," Hans analyzed.

He wasn't wrong; before half an hour had passed, a thin strip of black had appeared on the horizon. The strip soon gained color and shape, and soon became two distinct masses: a small island city, and the much larger mainland beyond. It was at this point that they were joined by the fourth of their number. Elsa glanced at Kristoff as he approached behind Anna. "Arendellian clothing?" she noted aloud, seeing the trousers, vest and boots.

"Just for the feast. I'll be ambassador-y for the ball, don't worry. Heya, feistypants." He pressed a kiss into his wife's hair as he hugged her from behind, and Anna squealed.

"Don't tickle me!"

"I wasn't going to!"

"You know the rules, no tickling me when I'm pregnant!"

"So little trust in me," the crown prince said, faking woundedness as he shook his head. "How far are we, Hans?"

"Another half hour, perhaps." His face was growing tight again. As they approached, the queen saw the prince nervously pull on his gloves, and when Anna and Kristoff (too preoccupied with being the embodiment of sap) weren't looking, she set a gentle hand on his elbow.

"Love thaws," she reminded him quietly. "Don't repress it. Channel it."

He gave an awkward nod. After discovering the existence of his powers three years earlier, and their unholy origin, Hans had displayed an uncanny amount of control over them that both had initially chalked up to his being a quick learner. It had not been until after a few incidents indicating otherwise (including one which nearly burned down part of the castle) that the pair had consulted Father Willum, the bishop of Arendelle and resident theological expert on all matters related to magic, and learned that Hans's apparent control over his magic in those early days was misleading at best. "Corrupted power is weakened power," the bishop had sagely explained. "Your magic is of divine origin; like a limb is stronger without disease, so is your magic stronger without the taint of evil. Your own royal self, my Queen, had so much difficulty learning to manage them precisely because the power was pure and incorrupt." Newly blessed with such unadulterated magic himself, the prince had found it difficult to control whenever he wasn't surrounded by miles of seawater, and had taken to Elsa's old solution of wearing gloves at all times.

The ship drew nearer to the harbor of Corona, where dozens of royal vessels from kingdoms across Europe had already docked along the shore, their many-colored flags snapping in the wind. Anna let out a delighted gasp and leaned against the railing, pointing them out for Kristoff. "That's Dun Broch… and Francia…and...wait...Elsa, is that…?"

Anna trailed off uncertainly. There was a pause as Elsa tried to spot what had given her sister such concern, and then felt her heart skip a beat.

"That's...that doesn't make sense."

The flag waved cheerily in the breeze, incongruous to the nervousness it sparked in her chest. Elsa watched the red, white and black scrap of cloth from a distance as they glided towards the harbor.

"Isn't that the flag of the Northern League?" Kristoff asked, frowning.

"Yes, it is."

"What are they doing at a Coronian royal christening?" Anna asked, looking troubled. "You don't think…?"

The four looked at each other.

"Well," said Elsa at last. "I guess we're going to find out."

They were met at the docks by a carriage which took them through the winding streets of the town up to the castle, which sat at the top of the mountain island which housed Corona's capital city. On their way, Anna peppered Elsa with nervous questions.

"You don't think they're joining the League, do you, Elsa? I mean, Rapunzel would have written me, surely…"

"I don't know. It may have been a sudden decision. Or maybe they sent the invitation out of social graces."

"The House of Weiss wouldn't like that," Hans observed, watching out the window. The whole town had been done up in the purple and gold-sunburst banners of the Coronian royal family.

"Whatever it is, we're sure to find out at the dinner," Elsa said firmly. "Now I really wish we hadn't gotten caught in that storm…"

They arrived at the castle as the sun was setting. Coronian sunsets were spectacular, a watercolor painting of oranges and golds, struck through with violet and magenta. A cool spring breeze off the sea struck the young queen in the face as she disembarked from the carriage, and she paused, watching the sun sink. Nervousness was curdling in the pit of her stomach that had nothing, ironically, to do with the diamond ring on her finger.

A hand caught her elbow, and she looked back. Anna smiled encouragingly.

"Don't worry. I'll talk to Rapunzel, we'll figure out what's going on."

Elsa nodded, relaxing a bit. She'd appointed her baby sister ambassador to Corona for exactly these sorts of situations; she didn't have to handle it on her own.

They were met at the doors by footmen, who led them inside the castle. Even from a distance they could hear chatter and music from the dining room, and Elsa glanced to Hans. She saw that his brow was slightly furrowed, as if he were trying to deduce the atmosphere in advance from the level of conversation.

"Wait here," the footman told them outside the dining room doors, and slipped inside. There was a pause, and then the footman returned. "They're ready for you. Queen Elsa and guest?"

"Present."

"Right this way."

The doors were opened, and she was momentarily dazzled by the candlelight and gleam of the setting sun through the windows.

"Announcing Her Majesty, Queen Elsa Marie Andersen of the Royal House of Arendelle, himmelenvelsignet, first of her name and niece of the King of Corona; escorted by His Royal Highness Prince Johannes Andreas of the House of Westergaard, himmelenvelsignet, prince of the Southern Isles, admiral of Her Majesty's royal navy, knight of Arendelle and betrothéd to the Queen."

There was polite applause as she got her bearings and offered a gracious smile. The dining room was slightly crowded, as the table (normally set for ten) had been supplied with an extra leaf and was now set for twelve of Corona's closest allies. She saw the King and Queen seated at the far end of the table opposite her, flanked on their left by her cousin and the prince consort. Following them were Crown Prince Dubhghall and wife Maighred of Dun Broch, a rather aloof-looking ambassador from the Francian Dynasty of Bête, and—her heart jumped into her throat—seated directly to the right of the King, the Iron Chancellor himself.

"Announcing Her Royal Highness, Princess Anna Katheryna Andersen of the Royal House of Arendelle, ambassador to Corona and niece of the King; escorted by His Royal Highness, Prince Kristoff Nikkhe Bjorgman, Arendellian ambassador to the Northern Tribes and Royal Icemaster and Deliverer."

Her feet were walking away automatically, her seat approaching nearer. She glanced at Hans, and saw his eyes flicker to hers. A whole conversation was communicated in that glance: it had not escaped him either, then, that there were no representatives in attendance from the House of Weiss.

Hans pulled out her chair with a gracious flourish, and Elsa saw with relief that he'd taken the chair nearest the Chancellor. She glanced at the man, wondering if he'd noticed, but his heavily moustached face communicated nothing but genteel politeness. "Chancellor von Eisen," Hans greeted cordially as he sat. "Truly this is an honor; I've heard a great deal about you, but have never had the pleasure of meeting in person."

"Prince Johannes Westergaard. An honor; I have heard much about you as well." The Chancellor's gray eyes swept from him to the queen. "Queen Elsa. A double honor, it seems."

"Ah– yes." She was fumbling, and realized she wasn't sure whether he'd meant that the honor was his or hers.

"How do you find Corona this fine evening?"

Hans's hand took hers, and she found her moorings again. "As lovely as ever. Springtime is so beautiful here." She thanked the servant pouring her wine and added: "My mother used to tell me tales of Corona's beauty when I was younger, but I never thought the reality could measure up until I visited two years ago."

"Did she?"

"Oh, yes. She talked often of playing in the palace apple orchard as a girl. Her childhood here must have been positively enchanted." She realized the obvious pun the moment the words left her lips, and thought she saw Hans suppress a smirk.

"Your mother loved springtime." Elsa looked over to find Queen Ariana smiling gently at her. "It was her favorite season of the year. We spent hours playing in the royal gardens as girls, although I recall she liked the plum blossom trees best."

"Plum blossom trees?" Something about the phrase sparked a realization, and she pinked. "How lovely…"

Queen Ariana smiled, a perfectly elegant smile that made the young queen slightly jealous. She had surely noticed Elsa's accidental slight, for of course the apple trees had probably been a gift from the House of Weiss in a past century, but she papered over it with flawless grace. The reigning monarch of Corona was everything a queen ought to be, everything Elsa remembered her mother being. "Your mother thought so, too."

"I see…"

As Anna and Kristoff took their seats, King Frederick rose, and conversation was quelled. "Good evening to all of you," he said solemnly, "and welcome to our kingdom. We are honored by your presence on this most blessed of occasions." He smiled to his daughter and son-in-law. "I am a lucky man indeed, to be blessed not only by my wonderful wife and daughter, but likewise by an excellent son-in-law and not one, but two beautiful grandchildren. Rarely, I think, has there been a happier king, or man, than I."

There was a smattering of polite applause. A pause followed, and then King Frederick took a deep breath.

"We are pleased to announce, however, not merely one happy occasion this evening, but two. As some of you may be aware, we were approached last month with an invitation from the Kaiser himself to join the Northern League." He nodded to Chancellor von Eisen, who rose to his feet. "I am pleased to say that this very morning, in the presence of Chancellor Otto von Eisen acting as the Kaiser's ambassador, we accepted this invitation. As of this day, Corona is pleased to welcome you as guests of the Northern League."

The applause that followed was far more enthusiastic, in contrast to the faces Elsa saw around the table: expressions of shock swiftly masked by nervous cordiality. She glanced to Hans, and then to Anna and Kristoff, and saw three wide-eyed, stunned expressions looking back at her. She was certain the same was mirrored on her own face.

One by one the foreign diplomats rose to their feet as the applause continued, and the young Queen of Arendelle, ally of Corona, found herself swept up in the motion like flotsam in a tide.

"Brandy? Aperitif?"

"No, thank you."

Rapunzel set the decanter aside nervously and sat down on the opposite sofa. The fire crackled warmly in the background, and the sky beyond the balcony doors glittered as if with a thousand diamonds. A few candles had been lit in the room, but aside from their small halos of light and the glow from the fire, the sitting room was cast in shadow.

"Where are King Frederick and Queen Ariana?" Anna asked, standing behind Elsa with her hands clasped on the sofa.

"Mama and Papa went to bed. It's been a long day for them."

"I imagine it was," Hans murmured.

"Since I'm the ambassador to Arendelle they thought it best I explain things." She bit her lip. "I'm sorry we didn't tell you. There wasn't time."

"I thought the King said you received the letter over a month ago," Anna replied, and Elsa could tell she was struggling to keep the notes of accusation out of her tone.

"We did. But we weren't sure whether we were going to accept until this morning, when…"

"When the Chancellor himself showed up," Hans surmised. Rapunzel nodded. "Was he invited?"

"We invited an ambassador from the League to the baptism. We didn't think they'd send von Eisen…"

The conversation paused as the door opened, and Prince Eugene slipped inside, closing the door. "How are they?" Rapunzel asked.

"Sleeping. The nursemaid's with them." He gave a nod. "Hey, everyone."

"Hey." Elsa glanced to Kristoff, who was leaning against the wall near the fire. His arms were crossed and his eyebrows knit, in the way that meant he was thinking everything over. As one of her ministers of trade, she imagined he was probably running through scenarios of how this would affect business between Arendelle and Corona.

Eugene sat down beside his wife. "So. The Northern League," he said, leaning his elbows on his knees. Nods went around the room.

"Does the rest of the kingdom know? Does the rest of the world know?"

"We're announcing it tomorrow at the christening ball."

"How are your subjects going to take it?" Hans asked.

"We're not sure."

"I thought the Northern League wasn't interested in Traditionalist kingdoms," Anna pointed out. Eugene shrugged.

"We think he's realized he can't unify the kingdoms if he insists on everyone being Reformist. Maybe he thinks if we go, the rest of the Traditionalist kingdoms will be more likely to follow."

"But why now?" Anna demanded. "The House of Weiss is going to be furious–"

"It's because of the House of Weiss that we have to go," Rapunzel sighed.

"What do you mean?"

Silently the princess retrieved a letter from the pockets of her dress and passed it to Anna. As she did so, Elsa caught sight of the broken apple-and-dagger seal glinting in the firelight. Anna unfolded the letter, scanned it, and went pale. She looked up.

"You're kidding."

"If we don't make the choice ourselves, the League will make it for us, sooner or later," Eugene said grimly. "We're a small kingdom, Anna, almost completely surrounded by Reformist and unified kingdoms. The House of Weiss has decided it wouldn't be worth the risk to send an army to defend a lost cause in a war they couldn't win. They've cut their losses and left us to the mercies of the League."

"These empire-builders," Elsa said bitterly, but her cousin only smiled sadly.

"You mean like your great-grandfather and great-great-grandfather?" The queen flushed and glanced guiltily to Kristoff, who pretended not to notice. "Corona has always been happy to be a small kingdom, but we knew this could happen eventually. Big nations gobble up little nations, and then eventually get too big and fracture under revolution. It's the way the world is."

"So this is conquest in the modern era," said Hans. "Quietly, over tea, with a pen instead of a sword."

Rapunzel's eyes flashed at that. "Of course we'd prefer to remain free!" she said fiercely. "But Mama and Papa did what they had to do, for the good of our kingdom. Wouldn't you do the same?"

"But to give up your independence…" Anna trailed off.

"The world is changing, cousin. Francia has finally stabilized, Dun Broch has colonies across the globe, and as for Ruthinia…" Rapunzel sighed. "The days of small kingdoms are over. Corona doesn't have the land or resources of Arendelle; either we join with an empire by choice or by force, and the House of Weiss is falling behind. They're still locked in the eighteenth century."

"It's not all bad," Eugene pointed out. "There are real benefits to joining the League. The economic effects alone will be a welcome boost here. And after the House of Weiss abandoned us," he added bitterly, "they can't expect us to behave any different."

This could hardly be denied. While Corona had an excellent Navy, rivaling even that of the Southern Isles, the League was powerful in terms of both clout and the size of its land armies, and was growing more powerful by the month. Indeed, Elsa thought wryly, by the day. The room descended into a melancholy silence.

"We're glad you've come," Rapunzel said at last, with a tired smile. "This is a wonderful time, for all of us. Anna, Kristoff—congratulations, Eugene and I were so happy when we heard." The princess smiled despite herself and placed a hand over the small swell in her belly. "And to you, too," Rapunzel said sincerely to Elsa and Hans, who glanced to each other with fond looks and linked hands. "When is the wedding set for?"

"A year from next week." Hans squeezed Elsa's hand gently. "We can hardly wait."

"Considering how often I've caught you making out in the library, I'm surprised you are," Anna said frankly, causing the queen to whirl around with a hiss:

"Anna!"

"What? It's true."

Rapunzel giggled. "It really has been too long. We need to get together more often." She yawned. "But right now, I think I need some sleep…"

"I'm right behind ya, Blondie." Eugene stood. "We'll see you guys tomorrow at the christening."

"Goodnight." The Coronian royals left, Rapunzel kissing Anna on both cheeks before departing. The doors closed shut with a soft click behind them, leaving the Arendellians alone.

Elsa sighed and stood, pacing to the balcony doors and pulling off her gloves. Frost followed her across the floor, but she didn't seem to notice. "Elsa?" Anna said anxiously.

The queen stared out at the stars for a long moment, before turning back around with a forced smile on her face.

"Let's get some rest. We have a long day tomorrow. You especially, Anna; I'm sure King Frederick and Queen Ariana will want to discuss how this affects our treaties."

"Right, good point." Her sister stood. "You coming, Kristoff?"

"Yeah. I should probably write a letter back to Master Folkestad, he'll want to hear about this personally…"

The pair left together, so that the queen and prince were left alone in the room. Elsa watched Hans for a long moment, as he stared into the crackling fire, his green eyes glinting with a calculating gleam in the red light.

"You should take off the gloves."

He looked over, startled. The fire flared abruptly and settled. "Pardon?"

"Your gloves, you should take them off." She nodded to the fire. "I can see you want to."

He gave a short breath of a laugh. "I don't think burning down the Coronian castle is going to help our diplomatic relations, Elsa."

"You're not going to burn down the castle." He gave her a look. "...Again," Elsa relented. "Anyway, I'm here to stop you if things go badly."

After a moment's hesitation, he tugged off the cotton gloves. The fire sputtered, sparks scattering across the carpet. Elsa sat down beside him, removing her own.

"Learning how to control it," she instructed, glowing snowflakes appearing in the air over her hand and hovering with a faint blue light, "comes from your mind, and your heart." She raised her hands gently, like a conductor in front of a symphony, and frost curled up over the stone of the fireplace in beautiful spirals. The prince watched in fascination as the shapes rose and faded, transforming from snowflakes and crocuses into sunbursts and then back again. "Your magic is a part of you now, part of who you are. It can't be repressed; if you try, it'll burst out in unexpected ways. You have to channel it instead."

The frost faded away, and she looked over. He was staring at her, his green eyes entranced.

"You're beautiful."

The queen smiled softly and took his hand. "What would you think," she said carefully, "about me making you king, after our marriage?"

The prince paused, tilting his head.

"You...know my feelings on the matter. I have, after all, made them painfully obvious." Her mouth twitched. "Elsa, you should consider what is best for Arendelle and then do as you deem right. I made you a promise that I would not ask you for the crown and I will abide by that oath."

"But on the level of my friend." Her blue eyes were searching his. "On the level of my advisor, do you think the man I am courting would make a good king?" He hesitated. "I trust you to answer honestly. Really. This isn't you manipulating my decision."

He looked back to the snapping hearth and held out his hands. A tongue of fire leapt out crackling logs and to his palm, dancing cheerfully and lacing itself around his fingers as if it knew it belonged there.

"…I think he would make a good king, yes."

"As do I."

The tongue of flame leapt back into the hearth to join its brethren, and the two shared a companionable smile.

"...sanctorum communionem, remissionem peccatorum, carnis resurrectionem, et vitam æternam?"

"Credo."

The squat, white-moustached bishop motioned for them to come forwards. Anna and Kristoff followed the Coronian royals to the baptismal font, where Rapunzel passed the infant to Anna. Elsa, standing with the rest of the congregation, was momentarily dazzled by the blinding brilliance of the sunshine, beaming down through the Coronian cathedral's high windows, onto the white baptismal gown as the baby prince cooed and squirmed.

"Princeps Eugenium II, vis baptizari?"

"Volo," the four answered in unison on behalf of the child, and the bishop scooped a dishful of water out of the font with the shell-shaped gilt christening bowl. "Ego te baptizo…"

"He's here," a voice whispered, just barely audible, and Elsa glanced upwards. Hans nodded just a hair's breadth to a pew on the other side of the aisle. She glanced sideways to see von Eisen standing with his hands clasped, face impassive and stately as ever.

The times we live in… She looked forward again as the baby began to squall at the cold water. A Reformist statesman at a Traditionalist christening ceremony, well, that was something you didn't see every day.

"...Amen." The bishop handed a towel to Anna, who dried the unhappy infant off and passed him back to his mother as applause filled the cathedral and the organ began to play. The parents and godparents returned to the front pew, Rapunzel bouncing the child to soothe him. "He's so cute, isn't he?" Anna whispered fondly as the baby whimpered and quieted again.

"You'll have one of your own soon."

Anna winked at her. "And so will you."

Elsa blushed. "You don't know that."

"C'mon, stability of the line and everything!"

"That's why you're here, little sister." Anna giggled under her breath and then glanced sideways.

"Did you see?" Elsa nodded with a soft hum, covered up by the chorus of the hundred-strong congregation as everyone began to sing. "This whole place is gonna go off like a powder keg at the ball…"

"The gossips will be busy for weeks."

"No kidding. I spoke to Queen Ariana this morning. She wants to meet with us to discuss our treaty before you leave."

"Alright. Tell her we'll meet with her tomorrow morning, before the farewell breakfast."

"Good idea."

The celebration ball commenced shortly after the baptismal Mass in the grand banquet hall. Elsa stepped aside before entering and, with a wave of her hand, turned her somewhat more conservative dress from the ceremony into a properly celebratory gown, complete with layers of sheer ice skirts and petticoat and a wide-necked bodice in sparkling ice crystals. Anna beamed.

"That's the best one yet!"

"Thank you. I had the royal tailor sketch up the designs…"

Anna glanced to Hans with a grin that was clearly biting back a snicker. He gave her a dour look. "Oh, very funny."

"It was funny."

"It was an accident."

"Just got to see some of what I missed out on," the princess chirped, taking her husband's arm as their name was called by the footmen. Hans spluttered nonsensically after her and then turned to his fiancée, who was politely suppressing a smirk.

"Not you too."

"Hans, really, what were you expecting when you tried to make clothes out of fire?"

"You make yours out of ice!"

"Ice doesn't destroy cloth."

He rolled his eyes. Both looked up as their names were called. "Are you ready?" the queen asked quietly.

"I'm always prepared for a ball."

"Fair enough."

He squeezed her hand through the elbow-length gloves. "I'm right here if you need me," he added encouragingly. She nodded.

They entered through the side doors and gave polite waves to the applauding crowd. Elsa scanned the faces and found, to little surprise, that many of them were caught between marvelling at her dress and curiosity at the pair. They descended the dais as another name was called and joined the crowd.

"Wow, it is cold," she heard someone whisper behind her, and glanced back, but couldn't tell who in the press of dignitaries had made the comment. She bunched her hands in the icy skirts nervously and watched as other foreign ambassadors were introduced.

The attention was quickly taken off of them, however, as the list of introductions drew at last to a halt and King Frederick stood from his throne to make the announcement. As the words washed over the crowd, Elsa primed her ears for the murmurs. To her surprise, the citizens of Corona, all of whom had been invited to the ball for such a momentous occasion, were letting out hushed exclamations of delight. She shared a look with her fiancé.

"I guess they're in favor of it," he whispered back. "I suppose the decision will help the economy…"

"Like Rapunzel said, it was join the League or be conquered by someone else. I think they know that. At least this way it ends without bloodshed."

Hans "mmed" as the musicians struck up another upbeat waltz. Elsa saw the Chancellor across the room nodding his head, and then looked sideways as Hans began to murmur something under his breath. "You know this one?"

"It's Teutonian in origin—the kingdom the Chancellor and Kaiser hail from." He hummed. "'Ich kenn dich, ich war bei dir einst einmal im traum…' There's an old märchen associated with it, from the kingdom's founding."

"The princess caught in the hundred-years' sleep."

"Mm." He extended a hand. "Shall we dance?" She glanced to the open floor. "Don't, not can't," he reminded her.

"Just this one," she relented, taking his hand. "Then I want some punch."

They joined the twirling couples on the gleaming floor, the ice hem of her skirts making a faint rustling noise against the floor. The queen smiled as the prince spun her, his hand inching from the small of her back to rest on her hip. She could feel the heat of his palm even through his glove and the ice. "You're melting my dress," she whispered, covertly fixing it with a wave of her hand as he led her three steps backwards. She was rewarded with his blush.

"Apologies."

"Control yourself," she whispered in his ear as he spun her again. The heat from his palm grew abruptly hotter, and he yanked it upwards to the small of her back as the melted crystals reformed.

"Tease," he said with a scowl. She chuckled.

He twirled her in unison with the other guests, and as she spun she caught sight of a few unusual faces. "Look to the right," she said quietly as they came together again. He did. A man in a business suit of Western cut was dancing with a young woman in a pale blue dress. "Isn't that the ambassador from the Colonies Across the Sea?"

"Yes...and they just got out of a civil war…"

"What is he doing at a Coronian baptism?"

Hans shook his head, bemused. Then his face changed. "Look." He nodded over Elsa's shoulder, and as they turned she peered through the crowd. A woman in a dazzling scarlet robe with silver clasps and an ornate headdress and veil was speaking to a Coronian noblewoman. "That's the crown princess of the Levantine Empire."

"What on earth…?"

"There's no reason for Corona to send an invitation for a christening to the Levantine Empire. It would be insulting to both parties." Hans's brows were furrowed. "They themselves must have formally requested to attend."

"Why would they do that?" Elsa inquired, baffled. "Do you think they knew about Corona joining the League?"

"How could they? Rapunzel said her parents made the decision yesterday. And one Germanic kingdom joining the Northern League is hardly an international event."

The waltz ended, and they broke apart. "I'll get us some punch," Hans said in a low voice. "You ask around, find out what's going on."

They separated, Elsa making her way to the side of the ballroom. She was met by Kristoff, who was dressed in his formal blue gákti and his royal medallion. "Elsa, is it just me, or do there seem to be a lot of people here who shouldn't be?"

"Hans and I noticed it too. Find Anna and stick close to her, just in case."

"Is something wrong?"

"I don't know. But this whole situation has my teeth on edge."

He nodded and vanished back into the crowd. Elsa was just looking around when a hand caught her arm, and she turned.

It was the Levantine princess. Elsa quickly curtsied. "Sultana Masoumeh. An honor."

"Queen Elsa." The princess returned the gesture, speaking in heavily accented Germanic. "It is a pleasure to finally meet you. I have heard a great deal about you." Her dark eyes flickered to Elsa's gown and then back up again, and the queen nervously clasped her hands.

"Yes, well. Word travels fast these days."

"Indeed. I hear you are betrothed. My congratulations."

"Thank you."

"And your husband-to-be, where is he?"

The queen felt the ice crystals sprouting under the gloves, minute in reality but to her mind, jagged and obvious. "Ah, he went to get us some punch."

The sultana hummed. "Your title, it included a word I did not understand. I am curious; could you tell me what it meant?"

"Sorry, which word?"

The princess repeated a somewhat incorrect version of the Arendellian words, and Elsa nodded. "Ah. Himmelenvelsignet, it means 'blessed of heaven.'"

"Ah. Because of your miraculous gift, yes?"

"Yes, exactly."

"And your betrothéd too, yes?"

Elsa bit her tongue. "Yes."

"I see." From the way the princess was studying her, Elsa got the feeling that she did see, and perhaps rather too well, though what she saw the queen couldn't quite discern. Thankfully, the sultana looked away to the rest of the dancing crowd. "It is a lovely party."

"Yes, my sister—our ambassador here—tells me they spent a great deal of time preparing for it."

"Oh yes, Corona is your closest ally, are they not?"

Elsa stared. "...Yes, they are."

The princess looked back to her with a smile. "Tell me, what do you think of their—what is that word?—unification, with the Northern League?"

"Ah…"

Across the ballroom, Hans was making his way towards Rapunzel and Eugene, a question already on his tongue, when a man suddenly seemed to appear out of the crowds. "Excuse me, Prince Johannes?"

"Ah—yes?"

"Would you mind coming with me?"

Hans glanced to the Coronian royals. "As it happens, I'm rather–"

"We understand. When would you be available? The Chancellor wishes to speak with you."

Ah. Hans turned to the man, giving him his undivided attention. "I can come immediately."

"Right this way, your Highness."

He was redirected to the side of the ballroom, where the Chancellor stood with a glass of champagne. The circle of foreign diplomats around him cleared with a word, leaving Hans abruptly alone with, possibly, the most terrifying man in Europe.

"Prince Johannes."

"Chancellor von Eisen."

"Champagne?"

He held out a glass. Hans accepted but didn't drink it.

"It isn't poisoned."

Hans flashed a brief smile. "Respectfully, Chancellor, I want my wits about me for this conversation."

The empire-builder chuckled. "Fear not, your Highness; I have no intention of discussing politics in the middle of such a festive celebration."

If Hans believed that for a second, he was the dumbest man in Corona. "I imagine you have much to celebrate."

The man nodded, just once. "Indeed. As much as yourself, I daresay. Congratulations on your engagement to the queen."

"Ah—my thanks."

"You must be a man of no small political talent, to achieve such a match."

That was loaded. Hans was used to similar barbs from foreign diplomats, casting slights at his and the queen's unusual history, but strangely the Chancellor did not seem to be mocking him. If anything, he sounded...impressed. Uncertain how else to respond, Hans nodded again and repeated, "My thanks. That is a high compliment from a man such as yourself."

Feeling it would be rude to refuse, he took a sip of the champagne and watched the mingling guests. Von Eisen appeared to be waiting for him to speak first, and at last Hans relented. "If I might ask you, Chancellor, why Corona?" he said bluntly, albeit in a low voice. "I was under the impression that the League was not interested in Traditionalist kingdoms."

"The Church and I have reached an agreement." Hans inclined his head and took another sip of his champaign, thinking quickly. "I assure you, Arendelle is quite safe."

"Is it?"

"We are not interested in Scandinavia."

"Is that so?"

The Chancellor shrugged. "You stand on the world stage, move across it as you please. Look around you, your Highness." He gestured to the swirling skirts and gleaming boots, the dignitaries of powerful nations. "This is the world. The Germanic kingdoms must unify to become a part of it."

"Or they will be swallowed up by larger empires."

"Precisely. There is strength in us, your Highness, but the people must be compelled to recognize it, to find it in themselves. Otherwise, we apart remain but a handful of small kingdoms, held together loosely by alliances."

"Such as those made with the House of Weiss."

"Arendelle is Corona's closest ally. I have no doubt that her Highness the Princess has related to you how undependable the House of Weiss can be."

Hans took another careful sip of the wine. "...I have heard the story of your kingdom's origins, sir."

"Yes, I'm sure you have."

"The story holds that the newborn princess was cursed by an evil witch to fall into a hundred-years' sleep upon her sixteenth birthday should she prick her finger upon a spindle, to be awoken only by a true love's kiss." The story came easily; it had been one of his favorites as a child. "The king ordered every spindle in Teutonia burnt, and the girl was spirited away by her nursemaids to a cottage in the forest to protect her, but despite their best efforts the princess was tricked by the witch and pricked her finger upon the spindle. The witch cast a spell of eternal slumber on the kingdom and grew a forest of briars around the castle, and imprisoned the prince of the neighboring kingdom lest he prove to be the princess's one true love."

His eyes found Elsa across the room, where she seemed to be engrossed in conversation with the sultana. "But by the aid of the nursemaids the prince escaped, crossed the briar forest, slew the witch in her draconian form and woke the princess from her sleep," he finished. "And with her the rest of the kingdom arose from their hundred-years' slumber before a single night and day had passed."

"And?" the Chancellor prompted.

"And– well– that's the end," Hans finished lamely, returning to the present moment.

"And from that end, the dynasty of Teutonia arose," the Chancellor concluded, and the prince flushed as he realized that, of course, this was history they were discussing and not some schoolboy märchen. "You are a man who likes fairytales, aren't you, Prince Johannes?"

"I think they teach us things," Hans answered, a tad defensively. "Things we wouldn't be able to see otherwise."

"Then you are an interesting sort of man, your Highness."

"And why is that?"

The Chancellor cast him a look out of the corner of his eye. "Not all men think in terms of fairy tales."

"No," Hans acknowledged, before adding boldly: "But you do."

The Chancellor gave a brief smile. "Fairytales teach us, do they?" he said, almost amused. "Then perhaps this is what I learned from our national märchen, your Highness: that it takes a certain sort of man to defeat a dragon and wake a people from its slumber."

Hans stared. He had the feeling he'd just been outwitted. He didn't like it very much.

"As it happens, it is interesting you should speak of fairy tales."

"Is it?"

The Chancellor inclined his head. "My son is rather partial to yours."

The prince felt his face flood with color. "I-I don't know what you mean."

"Don't worry, I shall not reveal you. Men such as ourselves do need a hobby, after all. I myself enjoy attending the theater on occasion. I don't know if you know this—very few have heard this—but in university I actually participated in a few productions myself."

The prince was enjoying the feeling of being wrong-footed less and less. He highly doubted the Chancellor was telling him about this for no good reason. "Were you?"

"Mm. Although I must admit, your Highness, if you did not want to be found out you might have chosen a less obvious pen name. Andersen, I ask you…"

"Ah. Well." He cleared his throat. "Does your grandson have a favorite?"

The Chancellor nodded. "The Snow Queen."

Smug bastard. "I see…"

"As a sign of my gratitude for your excellent work, allow me to present you with this." He nodded to a man Hans hadn't noticed standing in the background, who stepped forward and handed the Chancellor a book, which was then passed to the prince. Hans studied the cover. It was a beautiful, heavy leather-bound tome, with curling gilt bossing on the cover, culminating in the title. He looked up.

"Grimm's Fairy Tales."

"All of our national stories and epics. I believe the founding of the House of Weiss is even included."

"Thank you. I will treasure this."

The Chancellor nodded with a smile, and then looked up. "Ah, Ambassador Leroux, always a pleasure…"

The Francian diplomat he had seen the previous evening at the feast had cut through the crowd, holding a nearly empty glass of champagne. "Chancellor von Eisen." Hans noted that the man, despite only being half an hour into the ball, was already flushed in the face, and walked with the swagger of a man who is not quite sober on either alcohol or self-importance. "Wonderful ball, isn't it?"

"Certainly. But of course," von Eisen lifted his own flute in mild toast, "the League in particular has much to celebrate tonight."

"Oui, we have been watching the growth of your little Germanic empire."

Hans took a hasty gulp of champagne to hide a startled laugh. Of course, everybody was always keeping a wary eye on everybody else in the political world, but it was bad tact to acknowledge it. And "little Germanic empire?" Is the man a fool or drunk, or both?

If he was insulted, however, the Chancellor didn't show it. "Have you? I'm pleased to hear it. And how fares the House of Bête?"

"The Emperor is most beloved by his subjects!" The ambassador's voice pitched itself slightly too high, and slightly too loud, drawing giggles from a few nearby Coronian citizens. "He is a great modernizer who will bring Francia into the nineteenth century!"

"Indeed. More champagne, ambassador?" Von Eisen waved down a passing servant, who proffered Leroux with another flute of wine. The man immediately downed a third of it.

"Merci, thank you. Good stuff, isn't it?"

"Excellent. You know, Ambassador, I have a particular vintage from your fine kingdom..."

The conversation meandered for some time around alcohol, while Hans, waiting patiently to the side, watched the ambassador get thoroughly drunk. Once Leroux's face had gone from merely pinked to a somewhat pomegranate flush, the Chancellor smoothly, and abruptly, switched back to politics.

"I am most interested in Francia's modernization. I hear Pari has recently begun laying telegraph lines?"

"Of course! The Emperor wants to make Francia a thoroughly modern land. He has made significant contributions to our universities-!"

"Indeed? Modernizing is such a difficult business. Take the Unified Colonies; their civil war was certainly an event to keep an eye on."

Hans almost dropped his glass, staring open-mouthed at the Tuetonian statesman. He knew something about playing with fire—about the exhilaration of it, if nothing else, and he could see the amused glint in the Chancellor's eyes as he dangled the world-altering hint in front of the drunk ambassador's eyes. He's having fun. Tempting fate. The Colonies Across the Sea had brought warfare into the modern era, with their train-tables and telegraph lines, and although the prince had taken quite an interest in it, nearly all of Europe had written off the distant war as a foreign land's internal problem. It seemed that the Chancellor, however, had not been ignorant of its significance, either. Breaking the news to the rest of Europe could greatly alter any future wars.

"Yes, well," the diplomat sniffed. "They are a young nation. Francia is a land as old as time—even if we must move with the times, no? Ho-ho!" He gave a haughty belly laugh.

"But of course. At any rate, do give the Emperor my regards."

"But of course, but of course! Bonne soirée, Chancellor."

Hans felt himself physically relax, secondhand adrenaline from the risky move still pumping through his veins. "That poor man," the Chancellor remarked as the ambassador sauntered away.

"I beg your pardon?"

"He doesn't realize his government is built on a house of cards. I give them, oh, ten years before Francia collapses again." He watched the ambassador peacocking through the crowd. "Make that eight."

"How do you know?" Hans inquired, awed despite himself. "I thought Francia had finally stabilized."

"His 'emperor's' legitimacy is built entirely on military posturing, bombast and his uncle's legacy. The moment they lose a war, it all falls apart."

"You are not exactly a pacifist yourself, sir." Hans took another sip of champagne and then glanced down at the bubbling wine suspiciously. It was nearly half gone. He added in an undertone: "You can hardly expect me to believe that your offer of unification to Corona would have been followed by mere pleasantries if unheeded. And referencing the Colonies' war was certainly a risk."

The Chancellor laughed, an unexpectedly booming sound that drew the attention of several nearby partygoers. Hans started. "I like you, Prince Johannes of the House of Westergaard," the statesman chuckled. "You're as blunt as an idiot and as clever as a knave. A thoroughly likable man."

"Thank you, sir…?"

"It was foolhardy, I know, but you seemed the sort of man who's already been considering it, and he will disregard it offhand." Hans had to concede this with a nod, though he noted the unspoken message: the Chancellor had been testing him as much as toying with the ambassador. "However, you misunderstand the Northern League, your Highness, if you believe we are warmongers." The Chancellor's expression had turned ever so mildly thoughtful. "We have a critical purpose. These mere alliances are not sufficient to protect our many small realms from being eaten up by outside states with no love for our people or culture. The Germanic kingdoms must unify—and they will not do so under the House of Weiss."

"Not so long as Weiss has non-Germanic holdings in southeastern Europe, which they would have to relinquish," Hans acknowledged.

"Indeed. The League sees the import of creating a properly Germanic empire, and this necessity may currently escape small realms such as Corona. Some must therefore be persuaded. But we are as willing to accept a peaceful unification as a bloody one. Indeed, we prefer it."

Hans bit back the retort on his tongue, deciding not to remind von Eisen of his most famous moniker: the Iron Chancellor. "I see."

"I'm glad to hear it." Abruptly, von Eisen set his empty champagne flute down upon a circling tray as a servant passed. "If you will excuse me, Prince Johannes, I spy the ambassador from Ruthinia, with whom I really must have a word. Do enjoy the book."

"I– yes. Thank you, sir."

And that was the end of the conversation. Hans watched as the Chancellor strode away and gave a long, slow blink.

Ahah. So that's how it feels to talk to me, then.

On the other side of the ballroom, the sultana nodded as Elsa finished giving an appropriately non-committal reply as to her opinion of her closest ally's abrupt loss of independence to the League. "...Corona must make its own decisions," Elsa concluded, rather lamely in her own opinion, "Though we remain, as ever, their friends and allies."

"I see." The Princess Masoumeh gave an appreciative nod. "Arendelle's famed loyalty to its allies is, it seems, carried on in your rule as it was in your father's, your Majesty."

"Ah– yes, of course."

"Even in my country, we have heard tale of the wise queen of Arendelle." Elsa blushed. "We have a gift we would like to present to you—a small token of our desire to deepen a mutually beneficial friendship."

"A-a gift?" Elsa's mind suddenly was whirling. They had come to the Coronian baptism, with a gift for her?

"Certainly. You are, I hear, a fan of philosophy?

"I–" How did they know that? "Yes, I am."

"Then, please, accept this gift." A servant who had been attending from the background approached Elsa and handed her a parcel wrapped in fine silk which, once unwrapped, revealed a thin tome. Elsa scanned the title and looked up, startled.

"Averroes's comentary on the Republic. It's never been translated into Arendellian. How did you…?"

"Consider it a wedding gift from the Grand Sultan. We wish you a happy marriage."

Elsa curtsied, dumbfounded. "Please relate my gratitude."

As the sultana swept gracefully away, Elsa felt a presence at her back and turned to find Hans standing there, two glasses of punch in hand and a thick book tucked under his arm. "Sorry, got pulled away. How are you doing?" he asked, handing her a glass.

"I'm not sure," Elsa murmured. "Yourself?"

"The same." He noticed the book in her hand. "Where did you get that?"

"Where did you get that?" She nodded to his own.

"Long story, I'll tell you later. Good afternoon, Princess Maighred…"

"Herr Chancellor."

The empire-builder turned to face him as the messenger sidled up to him. "We have received telegrams from the duchies of Schwarzenbek and Ratzeburg," the man said lowly. "Shall we depart, sir?"

He watched as the man scanned the dancing crowd.

"Nein…nein, let me read them here."

Across the hall, the young monarch of Arendelle and her betrothéd were making their way through the final hours of the ball. They had mingled and danced and socialized until long after dark, until Elsa had covertly transformed her heels into flats and her mouth hurt from forced smiles. Her naturally introverted nature had grown exhausted about two hours into the ball, and by this point she just wanted to lock herself in a quiet room with a cup of tea, but thankfully her new fiancé was a social butterfly and handled the social graces while she stood close by, looking regal. Hans was just masterfully disengaging a rather dirty verbal sparring match with a young nobleman from the Eastern Mountains, who seemed unsubtly irritated that the disgraced prince had taken the very eligible queen off the market, when a buzzing caught their ears, and both turned.

Ripples were spreading through the conversation in the ballroom as the dancing began to stop. Hands and fans were shielding mouthed conversations, eyes casting meaningful glances—and as they watched, one by one the foreign aristocrats and Coronian citizens began to turn in one of three directions: to their monarchs, to the Chancellor—or towards them.

The tides of whispers closed around them like flowing water, and the two turned and looked around as the staring eyes formed a ring. Elsa was the first to recover, grabbing Hans by the elbow and tugging him towards the thrones. The crowd parted like the red sea—never a good sign. Looking around, she realized the need to know what she was reacting to before electing a path of action, and turned to the nearest gawking diplomat.

"What exactly is going on?"

"I– uh–" He glanced towards the Chancellor and then back again. Elsa drew herself up into her full, ice-queen regality.

"I am her Majesty, the Queen of Arendelle, and you will give me an answer!"

"Th-they say," he gulped, glancing, to her surprise, at Hans, "that, um, the Germanic duchies of the Southern Isles have...asked to join the League, your Majesty."

There was, precisely, one heartbeat of silence. In that heartbeat, Elsa's gaze shot across the room, and she saw Rapunzel fighting her way towards her through the crowd.

She turned on her heels, and Hans, as if in one mind, turned with her.

The crowd seemed to be closing around them as they moved. "Let us through, excuse me, we need to get through–"

"Your Majesty! What do you intend to do?"

"Is it true, your Highness? Will the Southern Isles go to war?"

"Will Arendelle support the League?"

"No comment," Elsa said tersely, "Excuse me." She less-than-politely shoved a minor Coronian noble aside with her shoulder, trying to quell the rising panic in her chest. She didn't like being the center of attention at the best of times, let alone among foreign nationals who were watching her like hungry hawks. She could feel frost threatening to crystalize out of her veins into the air, despite the gloves.

"Anna's on the other side of the room, near the doors," Hans hissed as they pushed their way to the increasingly agitated crowd. The press of bodies seemed to be closing ranks, straining to get near the throne dais. "Elsa, you need to do something!"

She grimaced, glancing left and right, and then let out a sharp sigh and tore off her gloves. With a snap of her fingers, a thin coat of ice spread across the floor on either side of their immediate path.

A series of "woh-ohs!" ricocheted behind them as they rushed forward past the slipping guests. Sparks flashed in the air as they broke through the crowd. Anna and Kristoff met them, looking frantic. "Elsa, what's–"

"Come on!" Elsa grabbed her sister's hand and dragged her out of the ballroom into the hallway, walking quickly and throwing glances over her shoulder.

"Wh– Elsa! Where are we–"

"Home. Arendelle."

"We can't leave without saying goodbye!"

"We can't risk it," Hans countered.

"Is it true?" Kristoff demanded. "Are the Southern Isles at war with the Northern League?"

"I–" The prince shook his head. Sparks and soot were following behind him, leaving a scorched trail back the way they'd come, and Elsa stopped and turned.

"Hans, breathe. You need to calm down."

"I'm fine." He looked pale. "I don't know," he answered the crown prince. "Maybe. Probably."

"But why are we leaving?" Anna demanded.

"Because Corona just became the only nation in the League with a standing navy of any importance in the Northern Sea," Hans replied grimly. "And Arendelle has alliances both here and with the Southern Isles."

"Wh–" Anna looked between them. "What do we do?"

"Get off Coronian territory. Now, as soon as we can. Any decision we make here will be seen as suspect." Elsa looked around wildly. "Which way were the doors?"

"This way." Anna took the lead, gathering up her skirts in her hands and hurrying through the halls.

They reached the entrance hall of the castle ten minutes later, and to Elsa's deep relief, they were the first there. The guardsmen at the front gave them startled looks; word apparently had not reached this part of the castle yet of the international situation going down in the ballroom. Anna smoothed her hair and strode up purposefully to the nearest footmen.

"Have our carriage called, please," she said regally, in a fairly good imitation of her elder sister. "Her Majesty the Queen wishes to return to her ship."

"Yes, princess."

"Anna! Elsa!"

They turned. Rapunzel had appeared at the end of the entrance hall, Eugene with her. They looked out of breath.

"We thought– we wanted to talk to you, before you–"

"Arendelle will not be making a decision at this time," Elsa cut her off. She hadn't meant to be so curt, but she was also painfully aware that one wrong word could turn the farewell from a personal matter into a political one.

"Anna. Please." Rapunzel approached and clasped Anna's hand. "You're our oldest allies. If Corona goes to war, we will need Arendelle's help."

Anna hesitated, looking between her cousin's pleading eyes and her sister, who was standing, straight-backed and tight-mouthed, behind her. Elsa gave her a small shake of her head.

"...I'll talk to Elsa," the princess promised at last. "I'll do what I can."

Rapunzel let out a sigh of relief and hugged her tightly. "Thank you."

The doors were opened as the carriage arrived, and a full blast of cold sea air struck the young queen in the face. She turned to see her cousin watching her. "We're sorry." The words tumbled out of her mouth. "You know we can't stay. Congratulations on the christening. Your son is darling."

"Thank you…"

The four clambered into the carriage. "I'll write soon," Anna reassured her. "Goodbye! Give our love to your parents!"

Rapunzel waved at them through the window until their carriage rounded the corner, the clip-clop of the horse's hooves loud as thunder in the young queen's ears. She sank back into the cushions, feeling shaken. Now out of the castle, the frost was free to escape, and skittered across the carriage's walls and ceiling. "You shouldn't have promised her that," she told Anna angrily.

"What was I supposed to do? You made me ambassador, Elsa; it's my job to help our relationship with Corona! I couldn't just leave without giving them any reassurance!"

"Let's discuss this on the ship," Kristoff interjected. Elsa bit her tongue and turned to her betrothéd, who was staring out the window of the carriage, watching the shops and houses of Corona roll by.

"Hans? Are you alright?"

"Mm. Fine."

He wasn't fine, she could see it in his eyes; they were distant, cold and calculating—a sure sign that he was as anxious as she was. As she watched him, her eyes caught sight of motion, and her gaze flickered downwards.

It was his thumb, still gloved in white, running back and forth over the embossed title of the book he'd received—almost obsessively, as if the book of fairytales were a talisman against the crushing weight of the real world beyond the carriage doors.

A/N: Hi everyone! So, long story short, I've decided to write up a sequel to Pierced Hearts. This one will be significantly shorter—eleven chapters exactly—and whereas the last story was theological, so to speak, this one will be far more political. Updates will be slow in coming, but should be fairly long if this chapter is any indication.

I would like to thank my boyfriend, Arthur, for the inspiration for this story and for his help in writing it; he's far more knowledgeable about nineteenth-century European history than I am. I hope you enjoyed this first chapter, and I'll see you all soon! Pax et Bonum! –FFcrazy15