"Hey Elsa, don't you think it's time for you to take a break?" Anna's voice broke through the monotony of the trade agreement Elsa was reading. Trying to read, actually, because she had been stuck on that paragraph for the past—she darted a glance at the nearby mantel clock—ten minutes. Elsa let out a soft sigh of defeat and met her younger sister's hopeful gaze, pushing up the glasses perched on her nose.

"You always say that when you want something from me. Come on, what is it?" she prompted, adopting a mock-weary tone as she steepled her fingers and leveled an even look at Anna. Her lip twitched from behind her fingers at the other's affronted expression. "Let me guess—there's a dress you've been dying to wear for Kristoff, but you need my expert advice because I've got an impeccable sense of style and the dress just has to be ABSOLUTELY perfect. It has to be so because your anniversary is coming up, yes?"

"How did you—"

"I have a calendar. The year passed rather quickly, didn't it?"

Anna's eyes softened in fond remembrance. "Yes, it has. And I couldn't be any happier, Elsa." She smiled and clasped her hands over her heart. "Thank you for backing me when the council objected."

"Kristoff is a fine man. You are happy with him," Elsa said simply. "That's enough reason for me to agree to your marriage and give you my full support."

"So, I'm very happy, which is why—" Anna went around her older sister's great oak desk, hauling her to her feet. "You are coming with me now. Right now. So you can tell me that the dress is perfect—"

"And to pay for it."

"Yes, that too. Wait, what?"

Elsa chuckled. "Just promise me something good will come out of it. Say, a niece or nephew after nine months?" she replied archly, raising a sly, teasing eyebrow.

"We're working on it," Anna shot back without missing a beat, herding Elsa out of her study by pushing her shoulders. At the back of her mind she acknowledged that perhaps she was due for a break, because otherwise she would have dug her heels in and refused to go.

"So I heard. Literally, I might add." Elsa tossed a wry comment over her shoulder, observing with amusement at how redness bloomed on Anna's cheeks. She kept her expression bland. "Now, if only you could show the same passion and dedication in translating the—"

"Coronian trade agreement, I know, I know, alright?" her younger sister rolled her eyes and grabbed Elsa's hand to resume their trek along the hall toward the spiraling staircase that led to the main hall of the castle. "Don't let me meet whoever wrote that darn thing. I might strangle him."

"Her."

"Huh?" Anna stopped short and looked back at her.

"The writer of the Coronian agreement. Constance Fitzherbert. No relation to Prince Eugene, I believe," Elsa clarified.

"You know who wrote it?"

"It's written at the bottom of the title page."

"Oh, right. Guess I got too excited and dived right in." Anna's expression turned sheepish and looped her arm around Elsa's. "I mean, that was my first 'helping you govern Arendelle' thing and I didn't want to mess it up, you know?" This time her frenetic pace slowed down as she prattled on about the long-windedness of the trade agreement. Elsa had decided to assign that particular duty to Anna because of her proficiency at languages—besides, Elsa's German was rather abysmal, and Anna did say she wanted a more active role in Arendelle's affairs. And it was high time Anna had a hand in running the country, if her child were to become the heir to the throne. A curiously warm feeling settled around Elsa's heart—it took her a minute to recognize that it was a contented sort of happiness, different from the giddy one she experienced the moment she reconciled with Anna.

Elsa still pinched herself sometimes, though. The thirteen years of isolation left an indelible mark on her that she had a hard time believing in good things, even if they unfolded right before her eyes. Anna's wedding to Kristoff, for example. She knew it was such an absurd thought, but she half-expected the chandelier to fall on them in the middle of their first dance as a married couple. But the glow surrounding Anna as she walked down the aisle and Kristoff's eyes round with wonder had been worth risking the council's wrath.

However, remembering the council's objections soured Elsa's reminiscences, for they had brought up the issue of her heir, which she dreaded. She was well-aware of that particular duty—in fact, when she was sixteen, she had asked her father why no marriage had been arranged for her yet. The idea of being married to someone terrified her, because what if she hurt her husband somehow—just look at what she did to Anna, and she was her sister!—but she had been such a disappointment when it came to controlling her powers. The least she could do was to be perfect in fulfilling her duties as future queen.

And perhaps she had also gotten used to being untouched. Marriage was—

Elsa had swallowed back feelings of vague revulsion as she remembered what her mother told her about marital duties. She could not imagine being THAT intimate with anyone. But honestly, the physical aspect of marriage did not compare to the uneasiness she felt over the idea that she had to form a relationship with her husband. Because of her powers, she barely had one with Anna—how can she be expected to have one with whom she was not related to?

Being alone was easier. She was used to it, after all, and to change that…

It scared her.

Her father had regarded her with solemn eyes, as if he divined her thoughts. "You don't need to worry about that now, dearest," he said, reaching out to reassure her. But she must have flinched out of instinct, because his hand fell to his side in defeat. Remorse etched itself between his brows as he clenched his jaw.

The matter had never resolved, however. If her parents had any plans to marry her off, it never came to fruition, for two years later, they were lost at sea. Of course, the council had broached the subject of getting her betrothed to eligible princes of neighboring countries, thankfully excepting the Southern Isles, but with Anna and Kristoff's desire to marry, she was able to hold that off—at least, until she declared her intention to make her possible nephew or niece her heir. She knew her duty, but she had enough of being a damn martyr. Elsa will pursue her happiness, and her happiness did not include marrying a complete stranger just so she could produce an heir. She supposed she got used to being alone, and besides, Anna shared her blood; her offspring will be Elsa's heir.

At least, she was sure of that, until three months ago.

No, she had not fallen in love at first sight, of that she was sure. It was just one encounter and one dance. She had danced a few more times after that—a waltz with Kristoff, a polka with Prince Eugene of Corona, a mazurka with a lord from one of Arendelle's provinces, and a quadrille. One dance with him should not have mattered much. But she had met his gaze from across the dance floor thrice, and she couldn't deny the pull she felt toward exotic foreigner from the Far East—she was certain her head would not be turned by a beautiful stranger, but a connection made in the shadows of the castle courtyard, a spark of understanding in almond-shaped brown eyes, warm hands enveloping her own…

"Elsa? Are you even listening to me?" A note of exasperation colored Anna's tone.

"Of course I was. You were saying that the legalese was a headache to translate and that Corona should just spit out what it is trying to swindle out of Arendelle," she paraphrased. Elsa had perfected the art of listening with half an ear a long time ago—coupled with the skill of a serene poker face, she managed to brood during council meetings.

However, Anna was more perceptive than the council, squinting at her with a suspicious stare. "You're off in your own little world again," she accused. Elsa tamped down on the mild irritation that arose within her, for now was not the time to squabble with Anna. They were at the castle gates now, which opened to let the royal sisters out.

"Old habits die hard, I suppose." Elsa turned away and raised a hand to stop an approaching guard, who was about to off his services to escort them in town. The guard, Bjorn, if her memory served her right, bowed then snapped a crisp salute before going back to his place. "By the way, where *is* your husband? I would think that with your anniversary tomorrow he'd at least accompany us," Elsa remarked after a few minutes of walking silently. She noted that they had already arrived at the square, where a few stalls were selling flowers and various knickknacks stood. Oaken spotted them and called out a cheerful "Hoo-hoo!", wiggling his finger at them in greeting.

"He said he's working on my surprise and went up to his cabin in the mountains with Sven," Anna explained after returning the burly shopkeeper's greeting with a wave of her own. "Which is good because I can work on my surprise for him. Come on, we need to get to Madame Fournier's shop!" She broke into a run, grabbing Elsa's hand to drag her along.

"Wh—Anna, wait! Slow down before—oof!" Elsa grunted as she smacked against something warm and solid. The impact loosened Anna's grip on her hand, causing Elsa to stagger sideways as she flailed to regain her balance. A slightly raspy baritone exclaimed a foreign-sounding oath just as she fell to the ground.

"Shimatta!"

"Daijoubu desu ka, Hamada—"

"Hai, hai, daijoubu desu, Gogo." Elsa followed the voice, and her blue eyes widened when she recognized the brown ones she beheld.

"Hey, why don't you watch where you're going?" Anna snapped, grabbing Elsa's hand to help her up.

"I could say the same for you," a curt, accented female voice retorted back. "This wouldn't have happened if you hadn't been dragging your companion around."

"Gogo, please," Ambassador Hamada finally spoke up, laying a hand on the petite young woman's shoulder. "My apologies, Your Majesty, Your Highness," he apologized, bowing stiffly at the waist. The young woman with him glanced at her and Anna before following suit. Elsa couldn't help but notice what the young woman wore—a yellow robe-like dress with a very wide purple sash spanning her middle. On the other hand, Ambassador Hamada's garments were nothing out of the ordinary—a blue coat over a white shirt, a dark gray cravat, and black trousers. However, their dark hair and eyes still marked them as foreigners.

Elsa blinked and shook her head. "I lay the blame squarely on Princess Anna's shoulders," she replied, giving her a reproachful look. "She should not have been running around like a hoyden in the first place."

Anna rolled her eyes and let out an unladylike snort. "Hoyden? Really? But yes, I'm sorry for that, Ambassador, because there's something I REALLY want to show my sister, so if you'll excuse us, we have to go. Bye!" She looped an arm around Elsa's and darted off once more, causing Elsa to yelp in surprise. She shot the ambassador an embarrassed grin, who responded with an amused, commiserating one of his own. Siblings, his eyes seemed to say, as he raised his hand to bid them goodbye.

There was that spark again, Elsa realized as she turned away to lecture Anna on propriety a princess must observe in public. Squabbling with Anna was a good way to keep herself from examining the strange feelings he stirred within her too closely. Strange, because she both wanted to run away and stay by his side.

There would be another time to sort these feelings out, she resolved fifteen minutes later, nodding her approval at Anna's choice. She stood behind Anna, hands resting on her shoulders as she scrutinized the dress.

"Do you think Kristoff will love it?" Anna asked.

"He will, trust me. Honestly, Anna. It wouldn't matter if you wore sackcloth for your anniversary."

Anna smiled and smoothed the skirt, looking at herself in the mirror. "Say, Elsa," she began after a few moments. "Are you sure about your decision? About not getting married, I mean." Her tone was carefully neutral.

"My thoughts regarding the matter are final, Anna. You know that."

"I know, but don't you think you're going to change your mind in the future? I mean, you're still young—"

Elsa sighed. "I'm twenty-three years old. You know I'm firmly on the shelf by now."

"But you're queen! I'm sure—" Anna began to protest.

"Please drop it," Elsa cut in quietly. "You're all the family I need, Anna. You, Kristoff, and your child. I just…I can't."

A pause, then a hesitant, whispered why came from Anna. "I'm asking because I worry about who will take care of you. You know how…uncertain life can be." Turquoise eyes bored into hers. "I don't want you to be alone if—"

"I am NOT going to let that happen," Elsa retorted, her tone flat as she slashed a hand through the air. Frost escaped from her fingertips, and she took a breath to calm herself down.

"I know that," Anna placated her, squeezing her hand reassuringly. "But there's another why you don't want to marry, am I right?"

It's easier. Shame burned the back of her throat. Now that she thought about it, it was rather selfish of her to place that burden on Anna's shoulders. It was her duty, after all. And Anna was right—life was uncertain. What if she could bear children and Anna couldn't?

And was her happiness truly that dependent on Anna's? Why can't she find a happiness separate from her sister's? When will she be able to truly stand on her own? She had sung about letting go up on the North Mountain, but as she is finding out right now, she couldn't.

"I'll think about it," she fobbed Anna off, her voice sounding weak to her ears. "Let's pay for the dress, if you're sure about it, alright?"

Elsa was thankful that Anna decided kept her mouth shut after that.

The clock down the hall of his rented townhouse struck nine 'o clock in the evening. Tadashi lay on his four-poster bed, staring at the canopy above him as he tried to calm his buzzing mind with a zen koan. The one he had been repeating mentally was titled "If You Love, Love Openly."

Of all the koans he could have chosen, it had to be that one. But he could not forget the striking blue eyes that haunted his dreams for the past three months. Sighing impatiently at himself, he got out of bed and rummaged the closet for his gi and hakama. He didn't care if he looked out of place—it was late, people are asleep by now.

"Where are you going?" a voice behind Tadashi asked just as he was tucking his sword into his obi.

"Out. I need to practice. I'm getting rusty," he replied over his shoulder. "I should be back in three hours."

"Don't you need someone to spar with?" Gogo, his retainer, asked, crossing her arms over her chest. A female bodyguard was unheard of, but she was trained in the shadow arts, keeping him covered as he fought by his emperor's side against the shogunate's forces. After the civil war, she served as his eyes and ears when the victorious emperor scrabbled to get his country back in order from the disaster the civil war left behind. It was because of her loyal service that he was able to serve his emperor well, earning him a chance to further his family's honor as an ambassador to Arendelle.

Tadashi was nearing the end of his three-month ambassadorship now, which he supposed he should be thankful for—he had been loath to leave his brother Hiro behind. He had been successful in his mission, securing a trade agreement which stipulated that Arendelle will purchase silks only from his country. It would not be a hugely profitable enterprise considering the distance between the countries and Arendelle's economy and minimal influence in the West, but it was a good beginning for an upstart like him. His country needed all the help it can get to recover from civil war.

But he found himself reluctant to leave. Why? Because of a supposed connection with Arendelle's queen? It was a preposterous thought, and yet—

"Master Hamada?" Gogo prompted.

"No, I'll be fine on my own. I need to work some things out, anyway. Thank you, Gogo." He dismissed her with a small nod and a smile.

Despite the lateness, Tadashi did his best to head to the forest unobtrusively. The sound of snow crunching beneath his feet and his heavy breaths formed a strange rhythm, which helped him center his thoughts in preparation for his sword practice. But his sharp ears caught a faint melody. Someone was humming. A lullaby, perhaps? But out here in the woods? Tadashi frowned, his hand tightening on his scabbard—he knew it was against his better judgment, but he decided to follow the sound of the voice.

It wasn't a lullaby. Someone—a woman—was singing about doing her duty and pursuing her happiness. Of being true to herself without being selfish. Tadashi leaned against the tree, closing his eyes and listening to the woman's mesmerizing voice—he felt her vulnerability as she sang about defying expectations of her, and her strength as she worried about placing her burden on others. He was close enough to reveal himself to her, but he refrained from doing so—he knew he was intruding on a private moment, yet he couldn't stay away.

Unfortunately, an animal from somewhere up the tree moved and dislodged some snow from the branches and onto him. The sudden shock of cold caused him to yelp in surprise and flail madly about. He heard a scream and caught a flash of light from the corner of his eye, then next thing he knew, his feet were frozen in place.

Literally.

"Nani—" he sputtered, fumbling for his sword.

"Don't move," the woman behind him warned. "Because I'll freeze more than your feet if you do."

Freeze?

Tadashi raised his arms slowly to show he meant no harm. "Ano, sumimasen," he began, trying to keep the tremor of fear from his voice, "anata wa yuki no onna desu ka?"

"Excuse me?" the ice crept up to cover his calves completely.

"I said, are you a snow woman?" He hoped Western snow spirits were not as vengeful as Far Eastern ones.

The woman answered after an agonizing minute. "You might say that," she replied neutrally.

"I didn't mean to intrude, my lady," Tadashi apologized. "I just…I heard you singing, and, well, I listened. I couldn't help but do so. I suppose that is part of your charm as a Western yuki-onna." He winced, but then he supposed he was in deep enough trouble already.

"Someone had called me that once…" Her voice trailed off. "Ambassador Hamada?"

Something in his brain clicked. Unable to curb his curiosity any longer, he looked over his shoulder before his jaw dropped open in surprise.

"Queen…Elsa?"