Queen of the Ashes

V.

The queen managed to avoid seeing the prince alone for several days after their conversation in the library, though as the coronation festivities continued, she could not escape his company at the breakfast table, nor during the larger evening parties held in the castle.

He was respectful of her wishes to be left alone to the point that she wondered if he had really been "interested" in her at all. He did not engage her in discussions, nor did he meet her eyes with that wry, knowing gleam which had so unnerved her during the first two days of his stay.

Nonetheless, she was still careful in sidestepping him at every turn: at private mealtimes with him and her sister, her comments were brief and given sparingly, if at all; at social occasions, she made sure that she was always accompanied by a guard or another guest; and when retreating to her bedroom or other private space to do work or rest, she had a guard stationed outside who was instructed to let absolutely no one in—even her most trusted servants.

Being mostly alone again felt familiar, and yet also strange. Her confession to the prince weighed on her mind, and she fretted over the implications of it, turning over every word that had been spoken between them and how any (or all) of it could be used against her. Given their individual reputations at court and abroad, she was conscious of what the increased number of eyes and ears around the castle might assume or say if they saw or heard the Mysterious Queen of Arendelle and the Last Prince of the Plague-Stricken Southern Isles alone together.

It was with some surprise, then, that she heard a light knock on her door at the beginning of the second week of celebrations, interrupting her mid-scrawl as she sat at her desk signing papers, her thoughts torn between political and private matters.

"Elsa, can I come in?"

She recognized her sister's voice and stood, walking to the door and pressing a hand to it. "Anna? You know I'm working right now," she replied.

"Can we talk? Just for, like, five minutes," the princess pleaded. "I feel like I've barely seen you lately, outside of meals."

Her older sister sighed, and – in spite of her instincts urging her otherwise – she cracked the door open slightly, and stepped out of the room. She gave a small look of disapproval to a young guardsman standing at the door, and then nodded for him to leave them. He bowed with a sheepish expression before walking away.

The princess watched the exchange with a raised brow. "He wasn't supposed to let me knock, was he?"

The queen suppressed a guilty look. "It's not that," she lied. "I just wanted him to give us space, that's all."

"Right," the princess said, unconvinced. After a moment, her expression brightened, and she continued: "Anywho, like I was saying: I haven't seen you in a while, and I wanted to check in on you. You doing okay?"

The question took the queen aback, and she blinked. "I—yes, I'm fine," she stammered. Collecting herself, she explained: "You seem to be really in your element this week, entertaining our guests. I didn't want to distract you from that."

"It's been fun, for sure," her sister agreed, "but I've missed you, too." Her head cocked to the side as she regarded the queen, and a smirk graced her lips. "So has Hans, you know."

Her older sister's face turned redder than beetroot. "Has he?" she asked, though she ensured her tone was cool and uninterested. "I don't think he knows me well enough to miss me, Anna."

"I would beg to differ, dear sister," the princess countered in an affected, snobbish accent. "I know it doesn't seem like it lately, because he's been quieter than before, but he's been staring at you with such longing when you're not looking. I'm pretty sure he doesn't even listen to half of what I'm saying whenever you're in the room." There was a playful, mischievous glint in her eye as she continued: "But you've been playing hard to get. I mean, I know that's your thing anyway, but it's more fun to watch when you do it to him."