Frozen: Conceal, Don't Feel

by Jen Calonita

  Hans stared out one of the windows into the courtyard and watched the castle workers hurrying around, hanging banners and decorations for Elsa’s coronation. After three long years, the kingdom was ready to have a queen.

  What they needed even more was a king. He and Elsa weren’t officially courting—he didn’t want to scare her off with such a declaration—but it seemed like they were pretty close.

  “I’m ready,” Elsa said. He heard a crash come from her room behind them. The princess winced. “Something must have fallen. I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about!”

  Elsa kept many secrets. He had to admire her for that. “Shall we walk?”

  She nodded. “Yes. I think you were right. Air will do me good.”

  “It will,” he agreed. The two stared at each other for a moment.

  Hans hoped she liked what she saw. He had reddish-brown hair and muttonchops, which none of his brothers shared and which they constantly teased him about. His mother said they suited him. His brothers all had brown eyes, while his were hazel, like his mother’s. He was taller than the princess by several inches, and very lanky, which came from running away from twelve older brothers. Elsa reminded him of a deer—timid and easily frightened, with large blue eyes that held pools of sadness.

  “So I was thinking—let’s forget the courtyard. It’s packed with people.” Hans led her down the long hall. “Let’s go somewhere quieter. How about the stables? It’s been a while since I’ve been down there to see Sitron.”

  “The stables,” Elsa said slowly. She definitely seemed to like Hans’s horse, Sitron. He was so docile. “I think that’s a great idea.”

  She paused in front of the large portrait of her family that hung in the hall. Her parents looked down on her from the wall. In the painting, they each had one hand on their young daughter’s shoulders. She looked like she was around eight.

  “I used to fantasize about being an only child,” Hans admitted. “What was it really like? Who did you play with on a rainy day? Or cheat from on your schoolwork? Or go sledding with when it snowed?”

  Elsa thought for a moment. “I was quiet and always handed in my schoolwork early—and did it on my own.”

  He smirked. “Show-off. My brothers were always getting me in trouble with our governess, sending papers flying into the back of her head and blaming it on me. Have I told you how three of them pretended I was invisible? Literally! For two years!”

  Elsa’s eyes widened. “That’s horrible!”

  Hans shrugged. “That’s what brothers do.”

  “I wouldn’t know,” Elsa said, and looked away.

  He didn’t skip a beat. “But you must have had friends.”

  “My parents let me play with the staff’s children, and sometimes they’d invite dukes or nobles to come for a party and I’d play with their kids,” she explained, “but there was no one I was really close with.” She looked at him sidelong. “I have a feeling my childhood was a lot lonelier than yours.”

  “That very well may be, but at least you weren’t always competing for attention and trying to figure out where you belonged.” Hans paused. “Your childhood may have been lonely, but your future won’t be. I’m sure you’ll have a family of your own someday.” She blushed and looked away again, but he kept going. “And you’ll probably want more than one heir for the kingdom. I’m surprised your parents didn’t.”

  “My mother couldn’t have any more children after me,” Elsa said softly. “But I’ve often wondered…No, it’s ridiculous.”

  “What?” he asked earnestly. It wasn’t often she opened up, but when she did, he glimpsed the princess she might have been before the tragedy.

  Elsa looked around sheepishly. “It’s silly.”

  “I like silly,” he said, and spun her around.

  She laughed and studied his face for a moment before speaking. “I always wanted a sister,” she blurted out. “I feel bad saying that, but sometimes I’d fantasize about having a little sister.” She blushed. “I told you it was silly.”

  “Not silly,” he said. “It sounds like you were lonely.” He held her hand, and she looked at him in surprise. “But you don’t have to be anymore.”

  Elsa squeezed his hand. “I like talking to you.”

  “I’m glad.” Finally, he was making progress! “I’ve been searching so long for a place of my own, but with you, I think I may have found it.” Elsa opened her mouth to say something.

  Down the hall, a door slammed, and Lord Peterssen emerged with the Duke of Weselton. Neither saw them.

  “Maybe we should call the princess down to go over her coronation speech one more time,” they heard the Duke say. “It needs to be just right.”

  Elsa tried to back away. He held tight and pulled her through an open door and out of sight. The two of them broke into a run, laughing as they raced through the portrait hall and other rooms, till they made their way outside into the sun and to freedom.

  When they finally reached the stables, Elsa stopped to catch her breath. “I can’t remember the last time I ran off like that!” she said, laughing.

  “Sometimes you need an escape,” Hans said. It was what he had done. He didn’t add that part.

  Elsa spread her arms wide and spun around. “It’s liberating!”

  He’d never seen her act that free. He had her exactly where he wanted her.

  He walked to the stables and opened some of the upper doors to the barn. Horses immediately poked their heads out. Sitron appeared, his white-and-black mane blowing softly in the wind. Hans petted his mane while Elsa stepped over to rub his dun coat. The two of them concentrated on the horse instead of each other. The stables were completely quiet.

  “You know, it’s crazy,” Hans said, “but I’ve never met someone who thinks so much…”

  “Like you?” Elsa said, looking as surprised as he was.

  “Yes.” Hans searched her face. “Maybe you and I were just meant…”

  “To be,” Elsa said, finishing his sentence for him again.

  They both started to laugh. Maybe an official courting was even closer than he thought.

  “The Duke would be thrilled,” Elsa said wryly.

  She had the man pegged. “So would Lord Peterssen,” Hans said, brushing Sitron’s side with his hand. “I’ve heard them talking. They think we’re a strong match.” To lead this kingdom. He snuck a glance at her.

  Elsa’s face was hard to read. “Do they?”

  You know they do, he wanted to say, but he stayed patient. He’d gotten that far. He was much closer than he had been even a week before. “But it doesn’t matter what they think. It matters what we think.” He glanced her way again.

  “Exactly. I like how we are right now at this very moment.”

  Hans tried not to look disappointed. “Me too.”

  The Duke wanted a proposal to come before the coronation, but Hans knew that might be tricky. An engagement didn’t have to come that day. Or the next. Hans knew in his heart that they were going to rule Arendelle together soon enough.

  If Elsa was smart, she’d let him take the lead. And if she didn’t…well, accidents happened. All Arendelle would need to survive was their new king.

  This was it! It was finally the day!

  Anna stared at the big red circle she’d placed on the calendar and tried not to scream with excitement. She grabbed a pillow from her bed and squealed into it quietly instead. She’d been waiting for this day for three years!

  Three years of planning, counting down, and dreaming.

  Three years to figure out exactly what she was going to say to her parents.

  And in three years, she still hadn’t figured out the right words to tell them her plan.

  Ma, Papa, I’m eighteen now, Anna rehearsed for the billionth time in her head. I’m all grown up, and it’s time I started my life, which is why I’m…I’m…

  This was always the part that gave her pause.

  Every time she thought about telling her parent
s she was leaving Harmon, she got a massive stomachache. These were her parents. They’d taken her in as a baby, loved her, and cared for her. She didn’t want to hurt them.

  I wish Freya were here.

  That thought popped into her head a lot. Even though it had been three years since Freya had been lost at sea with the king and queen, Anna still thought about her every day. If anyone could have convinced Anna’s mother that Arendelle was a wonderful place to start a life, it was her. And Anna’s mother would have been relieved to know Anna had people like family watching over her nearby.

  But Freya was gone. Anna had to do this on her own.

  The pink room she had adored for so long felt like a child’s now, but she still loved every inch of the space, especially her window seat, with its view of life at the bottom of the mountain. Arendelle seemed so close and yet so far away. Anna touched one of the wooden castle spires on the model her father had made her long before. Tears sprang to her eyes. Her parents loved her so much. How would she tell them without breaking their hearts?

  With food!

  Of course!

  She’d bake them the most perfect dessert she could. Something they didn’t make in the bakery every day. They’d be so happy with her creation, and their stomachs so satisfied, that they’d have to hear her out about Arendelle. And she knew just the thing to bake: carrot cake!

  She’d made carrot cake for Papa once before, and he had loved it so much he had eaten it every day for a week. Ma had complained he was having too much sugar, and he had said, “I own a bakery! Of course I eat too much sugar!” And they all laughed and agreed that carrot cake was the best thing Anna had ever made.

  That was the cake she needed to make them agree to her plan.

  She looked at the clock. After baking all morning, her parents were likely on their break, relaxing in the parlor. Papa might even be taking a nap. She’d slip out unnoticed and return fast to get to work. The cake would be ready in time for supper. They could even have cake for supper! She’d always wanted to try that.

  Anna headed out the door, the heat of summer blasting her in the face. What ingredients do I need? I have everything but carrots, right? We own a bakery, she reminded herself, not watching where she was going. What else could I possibly—WHOA!

  She ran smack into a young man holding a giant block of ice. The impact sent the ice flying. The block smashed to the ground, breaking into a million pieces in front of the market.

  “Hey!” the stranger barked. “You’re going to need to pay for—” He spun around and looked at her in surprise. “Oh.” His eyes widened, and he stepped back. “It’s you.”

  “You mean it’s you!” Anna was equally surprised. She remembered him from years before. She had looked for him several times but had never seen him again. “You’re the boy who talks to his reindeer.”

  As if on cue, the reindeer walked into view, nudging the stranger in the back.

  “Not a boy, first of all. And I talk for my reindeer,” he said. “His name is Sven. He wanted carrots, but now that you broke my ice delivery, he won’t get any.”

  The reindeer snorted.

  He turned to the animal. “I’m not being rude,” he whispered gruffly. “She broke the ice. Now we don’t get carrots.” The reindeer snorted louder. “Fine!” He spun around again. “Sven said I’m barking at you.” Kristoff looked at his feet. “So sorry…even though it was your fault.”

  “It was an accident,” Anna said. She couldn’t help noticing the way his shaggy blond hair fell in front of his brown eyes. The two of them stared at each other for a moment. Then they both looked away. “I’ll pay you in cookies if you want,” she offered. “I make the best ones in the village.”

  The reindeer started to prance.

  “You make the only ones in the village,” the young man deadpanned.

  “How would you know?” Anna replied. “Did you ask about me?”

  He pulled his wool cap down on his head. “No. Maybe.”

  She flushed. “I’m Anna. My parents own Tomally’s Baked Goods. What’s your name?”

  “Kristoff,” he said, then turned to his reindeer. “Sven, we need to go get more ice before—”

  At that moment, Goran emerged from the market, saw the ice on the ground, and placed his hands on his head. “No! I’ve been waiting for this delivery all morning!”

  Anna winced. Goran had run the market as long as she could remember. Her parents had always been thankful that he was agreeable to bartering goods. A well-timed cinnamon roll had won her favor sometimes when she forgot money for groceries.

  “I’m sorry. It was out of my control.” Kristoff side-eyed Anna. “I can get you more, but it will take a few hours.”

  “A few hours? I needed this ice now to keep my groceries cool in this heat!” Goran complained.

  “I can get it to you this afternoon,” Kristoff promised, “but if I could get the supplies I need now, I can get it faster. My ice ax is pretty dull. And Sven is out of carrots.” The reindeer snorted.

  Goran folded his arms across his chest. “No ice, no trade.”

  “But you’ve done it before,” Kristoff reminded him, getting annoyed. “Help me out!”

  “Not today!” Goran folded his arms across his chest. “I needed that ice now.”

  “Goran, maybe I can help. How about some cinnamon—” Anna started, but Kristoff stared her down.

  “Back up while I deal with this crook here.”

  Goran narrowed his eyes and stood up straighter. Anna had never noticed how tall he was. He was bigger than Kristoff. “What did you call me?”

  Kristoff stood nose to nose with him. “I said—”

  Anna jumped between them. “Okay, I think this is my fault! You need ice, he needs an ice ax to get the ice. Can’t we come to some sort of arrangement?”

  “I don’t need your help,” Kristoff said.

  “Actually, you do,” Goran growled.

  “Goran, put the carrots and ice ax on my tab,” Anna insisted. “I’ll be back with some cinnamon rolls to keep you happy, and then Kristoff will return with ice before you know it.” Anna looked from one man to the other. “All right with everyone?”

  Goran silently handed Anna the carrots, then went inside the market to retrieve the ice ax. Anna smiled at Kristoff, feeling pleased, but he didn’t share her joy.

  “I don’t do handouts,” he said.

  “Who said it’s a handout? You’ll pay Goran back, and if you want to pay me in ice, too, now you know where to find me.” She divided the bunch of carrots in half, handed Kristoff some, and patted the reindeer on the head. “Bye, Sven!”

  Anna practically skipped down the street back home. She had a feeling she’d see Kristoff again.

  But first she needed to bake. The quicker it was finished, the quicker she could finally get this conversation over with. She was ticking off bakery measurements in her head when her parents walked into the room talking.

  “Nothing has changed, Johan. It’s been three years! Maybe nothing ever will. She has the right to know the truth,” Ma was saying.

  “Who has the right to know the truth?” Anna asked as she gathered several bowls and large spoons. “And you’re supposed to be resting! Now you’ve ruined my surprise!” Anna was trying to be funny, but her parents looked uneasy. “What’s going on? Is this about me?”

  Papa and Ma glanced at each other.

  Papa looked uncomfortable. “We don’t really know how to tell you this, Anna Bear, without possibly betraying our closest friend.”

  Closest friend? Betrayal? “Is this about Freya?” Anna asked.

  Ma nodded. “She’s my oldest and dearest friend—she always will be.”

  “Of course she is,” Anna said. Her mother had never really gotten over Freya’s death, and neither had she. “I think about her all the time, too.”

  “You do?” Papa asked.

  “Of course. It’s kind of why I wanted to make you this carrot cake today. I have something t
o tell you, as well, but now that you’re talking about betrayal I’m getting worried.”

  Ma reached for her arm. “We don’t mean to alarm you. Your papa and I have just been discussing something—”

  “For the past three years,” Papa said under his breath.

  “And we don’t want to keep you in the dark anymore,” Ma added. “But the situation is complicated.”

  “We made a promise to Freya,” Papa said. “But we also don’t want you spending your whole life not knowing the truth.”

  Anna’s eyes widened. “So this is about me…and Freya?”

  Papa sounded like he was having trouble breathing. “Yes and no.”

  They were truly scaring her. “What is going on?”

  “I knew her a lot longer than you did, Johan,” Ma told him. “If this curse never lifts, she—”

  “Curse?” Anna’s arm slipped and she knocked a bowl off the table. It shattered. Papa grabbed the broom from the hook on the wall and began sweeping it up. “I’m sorry! I thought there was no such thing as curses…is there?”

  Ma hesitated and looked at Papa. “I don’t mean curse, exactly. It’s just a word.”

  “A word for something made up,” Anna clarified.

  Ma didn’t answer her. “Johan, if things don’t change, she will live her whole life not knowing she has another family out there.”

  Papa stopped sweeping. “We’re her family, Tomally,” he said softly. “What good would telling her do? She can’t change things. Who would even believe her?”

  Ma’s eyes filled with tears. “You’re right. I don’t want to put our daughter in harm’s way, but I also don’t want to carry this secret to my grave.”

  Their conversation wasn’t making sense to her. “Is this about my birth parents?”

  The frown lines on her mother’s forehead deepened. “Well, yes…”

  “Did Freya know them?” Anna asked. She’d always wondered. Freya had been such a big part of her life since the beginning. Maybe Freya had known something Anna didn’t. Silence hung over the room as they stared at one another. “It’s okay,” Anna finally said. “If you know who they are and don’t want to tell me, I’ll understand. It doesn’t matter anyway.” She reached for their hands. “You’ve been the best parents anyone could ever hope for.”