In Fantasy

Chapter 10: Choices

Ingrid met the sun as it crested over the mountains, her blue eyes dark and hollow.

She sat calmly atop a blanket of snow by the glade, the waterfall behind her frozen into a gleaming wall of ice. Her right hand curled into a fist as she watched the sunrise, her lips thin and dry.

When the light became too bright to bear, she turned her gaze away until it fell upon her hand, splayed open of its own volition.

In her palm laid the vial, the dark potion still swirling inside.

»»————-　❈　————-««

"You didn't sleep a wink, did you?"

"Neither did you, by the looks of it."

Iduna and Agnarr stared at each other in the full brightness of the dawn, neither blinking.

"He arrives today," said the king at length.

"Yes," demurred the queen, "to see his great plan come to fruition. How victorious he must feel."

Agnarr paused. "I'm not so sure about that."

"Oh?" Iduna asked. "Why do you say so?"

"His son—" he stopped himself, and swallowed. "Hans will be with us, now. Far from his reach."

"Not so far," Iduna reminded him. "And isn't he here merely to carry out his father's will?"

"You don't really believe that," said Agnarr, shooting her a sharp look. "We both know it's not so simple anymore."

"Why?" snapped his wife, frowning. "Because he's fallen in love with our daughter? Don't be foolish."

The king paled for a moment, transported back to his dark study, remembering pages of runes and faded illustrations, the prince's blush... and then returned to his wife's dark eyes.

"He's getting what he wants too, Iduna. A place of his own, away from his family. And one day, he'll be king." He looked out of their bedroom window, his eyes sunken in from lack of sleep. "We have to trust that he won't betray us."

"Trust?" Iduna blurted out. "How could we trust—"

She watched Agnarr's expression flicker between uncertainty, dread, and solemnity in the growing daylight, and her eyes narrowed.

"You know something. What are you not telling me?"

The king affected composure as he turned to her. "Nothing, dear. I only meant that we can try to influence His Highness, too, and perhaps have better success than Albert. After all," he remarked, looking out of their bedroom window, "this isn't the Southern Isles. Here, he can have a fresh start."

Iduna grew quiet, and at length turned and walked to the door, her hand pausing on the knob.

"A fresh start," she murmured, tears pricking at her eyes. "Oh, how I wish we would be granted the same."

»»————-　❈　————-««

Hans encountered no less than ten – or maybe twenty, he lost count after the first few minutes of his walk – ladies-in-waiting and servants to the princess on the way to her quarters, all insisting that he should turn back.

"It's bad luck, Your Highness!"

"You're not yet dressed yourself, and respectfully, sire, isn't the steward waiting for you?"

"Please, sir, you really shouldn't be here—"

"Is that Hans?"

Anna's voice cut through the final objection from the head of household, Gerda, whose head was presently poking through a crack in the door.