Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Sneaking past the guards on patrol duty had been easier than most nights. Six years of roaming the castle grounds for lack of decent company and recreational activities had given her quite the advantage on even the most experienced guards. However it was not the case tonight. In fact, the two young recruits were pacing aimlessly around the courtyard, uncoordinated and distracted by the silent quell of the night to spot the figure streaking past them. Midnight ticked nearer and promised to deliver a day that could potentially change everything. This could be her last night.

In a few hours the castle gates would open, welcoming foreign rulers and nobles from exotic and distant lands after thirteen years of forced isolation. Spirits were high among the population and the ranks, especially among younger soldiers. They were too young to remember what Arendelle had been like before its port had closed to foreign travel for reasons still unknown to the public. Over the past week, alcohol and women had been the height of conversation at the barracks, to the point of turning the place into a makeshift tavern of sorts when the rowdiest crowd congregated in excited bellows of tune and laughter.

Face twisting in disgust, Jul tuned out the sentry’s voices and stalked towards the east. In the near darkness she picked her way across the courtyard toward the perimeter wall. She slipped past the stables, steering away from the torches set at regular intervals along the wall. Within seconds she was scaling one of the marble columns supporting the roofed walkway that surrounded the castle’’s perimeter. When she was certain that the guards walking sentry were well out of hearing distance, she leapt onto the battlement and dashed ahead.

The eastern side of the castle stood closer to the walls, close enough to kiss the outer border. It was there that Jul came to a stop and promptly leapt on the wooden railing. With one hand she grabbed the roof of the battlement and jumped. Using the forward momentum to breach the small gap with the castle, she flung out her free hand and found a safe handhold that would keep her from plunging toward her own death. Once her grip on the stone was secure, she did the same with her feet and then released her hold on the roof. From there, she began her climb up the stone walls, finding well-known handholds in the darkness.

The salty tang of the sea air casted a chilly welcome on her bare forearms and face in spite of the hood that covered it. Summer had so far conceded its fair share of hot, humid weather that every once in a while was brusquely swept away by unusual rainstorms that lasted long enough to leave a trail of unseasonal cold behind. It had been almost two days from the last one, the most violent so far to hit the coast, but the effects still lingered.

Cold and hot weather made little difference to Jul, but she was grateful for the thick layer of clouds covering the majestic globe of the full moon. The darkness concealed her progress up the wall, not just from the ground but from the walkway and the castle windows. It was fortunately a rather short climb, thanks to the peculiar outline of the castle with its many roofs and triangular windows.

Five minutes later she was within reach of a window on the first floor. She caught hold of the sill and hung by her fingers, listening closely for any sound coming from the inside. Nothing stirred. Freeing one hand, she pulled out a wooden shim from a hidden pocket in her black cloak. Her muscles burned all the way down her back from the strain but she clung on tightly and leaned over just enough to push the shim between the two glass panels of the window. Soon, she’’d found the latch and unhooked it. Swinging one panel open, she pulled herself up by the sill and jumped inside. The thick carpet absorbed the hit and she hurried to close the window before stealing along the hallway and up one flight of stairs. Lamps burned dimly along the painted walls. Their light was barely enough to see two feet in front of her but through the years of experience she could easily navigate through the corridors.

It was the sudden dipping in temperature that assured her she had reached her destination. A long corridor stretched out ahead of her and disappeared into a dark void. The floors and windows had recently been dusted and cleaned but the stale smell of disuse hung persistently in the cool air like a stark reminder. There was only so much that the sweep of a broom could get rid of after all.

Still panting from a mixture of exertion and tension, Jul slowed her pace. Only one door was set into the wall halfway down the corridor. Its white frame seemed to lean some extra glow to the dim surroundings, reflecting what little light the lamps offered. Reverently, Jul stepped to the door. The intricately painted snowflakes were indeed shining brighter than she’d ever seen them as she pushed her hood back and went down on one knee in salute. The gesture had come unbidden to her the first night. At first she’d felt ridiculous, taking the knee for a panel of wood but all the same, the greeting had stayed with her and in time grown heavy with meaning. It eventually became a fundamental part of her midnight routine.

Tonight the moment felt doubly charged, tinged with hopes and a good amount of fear. Jul’s right hand hovered inches from the wooden frame before gently reaching out to caress the door’s panel. Eyes going wide, Jul immediately drew her hand back at the cold sensation under her fingertips. Looking closer, she noticed the entire frame was coated in a thin rime of frost. With a worried frown, she tentatively touched the door again, all the while wondering if her mind was playing tricks on her. Even for this part of the castle, the sight was unusual. It had always been colder up here but never like this and she felt an immediate tug of apprehension in her stomach that she couldn’t quite shake off.

Breath misting in the air before her, Jul allowed her burning palm to linger on the frosted wood just a moment longer before pulling away. Careful not to make any noise, she took up her usual spot below the window facing the Princess’s room.

For the longest time, this had been the best part of her day. Or rather, the only good part. A realist at heart, her expectations had shattered before her first day in Arendelle had even fully passed. Becoming the only woman to ever join the Royal Guard had set her up for a life full of hardships, ridicule and loneliness. The former she had handled with her wits, sometimes also with raised fists when the situation had called for it, but the latter was what had caused more damage in time. With no one to rely on for support, dealing with the cutting jokes, cruel pranks and the constant humiliation had required nerves of steel and self-imposed solitude. In hopes of fulfilling the solemn vow she’d made as a child, determination and ambition had been her lifeline. Needless to say, the road so far in order to keep that vow had been hard and twisted.

Back at the beginning of her military service, the inside of the castle had been off limits to most recruits except for Captain Svendsen, the army leader: only chosen members of the staff were granted access to the upper floors. Learning this had been like a blow for Jul, who had been brimming with energy and youthful enthusiasm. But then word had come to her of a patrol unit that walked sentry on the second floor, the one housing the royal chambers. It was back then that she started hearing the rumors. Some of those had travelled as far as her hometown, most of them strange enough to be soon discredited by most. But within the grounds gossip and superstitions had spread like wildfire, particularly among the soldiers who never got tired of speculating on the real need behind those nightly patrol rounds. Stories had grown wild over the years with talk of ghosts and evil spirits, to the point that most guards refused the post on the premise. Because of that, only a handful of soldiers could be trusted with the task and Jul had immediately jumped at the opportunity of becoming one of them. Captain Svendsen had eagerly accepted her request, thinking perhaps her goal had been to prove her worth and courage. He couldn’t have been more mistaken.

In spite of the ruthless mockery she was under on behalf of her comrades, she had not wanted the post to prove something to them. Unlike many recruits of noble blood and higher status, she hadn’t entered the Guard to make a name for herself or to follow a military career. She’d had no interest in competing with them whatsoever. Every last drop of her energy and every second of her training had been devoted to becoming a soldier capable and worthy of protecting the royal family and the kingdom. At the time, getting close to the second floor had looked like a good start.

For little over a year, Captain Svendsen had trusted her with the task and she’d protected that small portion of the castle with pride and indescribable joy. Seeing the white door for the first time had been a step forward into the life she’d dreamed about as a child. Even things at the barracks had become more manageable, partly because her shifts allowed her to spend less time with her tormentors. But as soon as the waters had calmed, everything had come crashing down with the untimely passing of King Agnarr and Queen Iduna.

Immediately after their funeral, things had taken a radical turn for the worst. No one but Captain Svendsen had permission to enter the castle and anyone caught disobeying those orders faced a lifetime ban from Arendelle. Jul had spent that whole week grieving from the loss of the kingdom’s beloved rulers, consumed by a sense of helplessness at the thought of both princesses having to face the world alone without the guidance and love of their parents. The black strip of cloth sewn to her uniform had weighed like a ton of bricks on her chest as she had gone about her duties, eyes always drifting up to those windows suddenly so out of reach . She’d spent every waking minute at war with herself, fighting off the rebellion taking place inside her, and her nights shifting restlessly in and out of nightmares. But in the end, instinct had broken through her resistance. Under cover of darkness, she had sneaked out of the barracks, slipped past the sentry lines like a common thief and put her climbing skills to good use. Within minutes she’d been standing breathless in front of the white door, palms scratched and bleeding, trembling with fear and immense relief.

That night had been the first of many, sitting under the big window until the break of dawn chased her away. Over the course of three years, nothing had ever altered the complete stillness and everlasting cold that permeated the royal living quarters. All alone in the dimness with shadows dancing on the walls from the flickering lamplight, Jul had understood why so many of the soldiers had grown scared of the place. Every little noise had sent her twitching and scanning the darkness for any sign of life. In spite of the discouraging atmosphere, it had taken her little time to adjust the irrational fears plaguing her mind and acknowledge that nothing and no one would disturb her quiet night vigil.

With surprising ease, she had quickly settled into a routine that felt almost normal, broken only by extreme weather conditions and the occasional night shift on the battlement. Even the unusually low temperatures had become a familiar constant. The source of this coldness had always been a matter of interest among the staff and soldiers who’d experienced it firsthand. Many said the floor was cursed, others insisted the perpetual chill was caused by the ghosts of the deceased King and Queen who haunted the corridors seeking for their daughters. The theories had grown progressively more ludicrous and the lack of sensitivity or restraint toward the matter only fuelled Jul’s rage. How could warmth hope to blossom in a place forgotten by the world, where pain and sadness had for so long reigned unchallenged?

No wonder the cold was so bitter tonight. The room beyond the white door was in darkness but Jul could almost imagine the young woman lying wide awake in bed, terrified at the prospect of setting foot outside her tiny reality. People liked speculating on what really kept the Princess locked away. Jul understood their curiosity. She felt it, too. She’d waited her whole life for this one moment of the anticipated truth but the wait felt insignificant, her desire childish in the face of what the young woman was likely going through. She would never allow herself to forget the insane amount of pressure that weighed on the young woman’s shoulders. No matter how much she wanted to set eyes on the future Queen instead of clinging to a fading memory, she’d be willing to sacrifice that moment and grant her majesty more time to prepare, more courage to face her fears, whatever they were. If only there was something she could do to help, anything at all.

Truth was, she had no clue. In spite of her efforts to show up with regularity, her presence was insignificant at best. Even so, Jul had never bailed, never given up on the idea that even one drop of warmth could spread out and conquer this eternal winter.

Sighing, Jul hugged her knees to her chest as she watched the play of light and shadow on the painted snowflakes. Lately her mind had been filled to bursting with questions. During her six years in Arendelle she’d done her best to avoid certain issues and let others do the talking and whispering, but some things could no longer be ignored. Nobles and townspeople alike wanted answers; they wanted an explanation for why the royal family had barricaded itself from the public. With Coronation Day looming ever closer, they might just get their wish.

The notion was exciting as well as it was deplorable and Jul couldn’t help but feel torn on the delicate subject. After years of forced inactivity, Coronation Day presented her only one opportunity to serve and protect the royal family at the best of her abilities and as such, fully experience the life she’d always dreamed of fulfilling. She could hardly imagine what the castle would be like in a few hours. Esteemed monarchs and dignitaries garbed in their finest waist-coats would be escorted with women powdered to flawless perfection, frocked in beautiful gowns that would magnify their beauty. Booming laughter, ballads and sophisticated tunes would resound within the polished corridors of the Great Hall, the doors finally unlocked for the first time to warmly greet everyone. If there was anyone who wished the cursed isolation would disappear it was her, in spite of the price she’d have to pay. This could be the last night she set foot on the second floor and the thought was tinged with bittersweet emotions. For so long the royal quarters had been her safe haven from the harsh reality of her solitary career in the military. Whenever she felt overwhelmed with raging emotions she’’d take a deep breath and think ahead to the moment night would descend on the fjord. It was then she could pretend to be the soldier from heroic novels she adored so much as a child, the one she’d promised herself she’d become. Up in the little corner of the second floor Jul was free to be herself once again. Finding this place had saved her and helped her connect with the Princess in a way she never would’ve thought possible. Even if the connection was completely one-sided and unknown to the young woman, Jul had treasured her nights like a most precious gift. However the time had come for her to give up her routine for good.

Outside the wind had picked up and howled with intense sorrow, making the windows rattle in their frames. Jul wrapped her cloak tighter around herself, shivering. It was colder than it had any right to be, regrettably foreshadowing a rather uncomfortable and tiring vigil. Jul had been through worse nights before and she had no intention of abandoning her post for five hours of restless sleep, no matter how exhausted she felt after an afternoon spent drilling in the courtyard under Captain Svendsen’s careful watch. Besides, that tug of apprehension in her gut had been nagging at her ever since she’d touched the frost-covered door.

Gripping the fabric of her cloak with tight fists, Jul fixed the white door hard enough to make her eyes water, recognizing it as the source of her unease. She’d lost count of the nights she’d wanted nothing more than to knock on that door and make her presence known but she had never gone through with it. The fear of losing this privileged spot had always stopped her hand short. After all, how could a complete stranger accomplish something that not even family and the closest member of staff had managed in over a decade?

Jul found this to be the hardest truth to live with for some reason, knowing the Princess was internally suffering. But finally things were about to change. Maybe she had been useless up to this moment but the opportunity to prove herself worthy of the uniform she wore had come at last. Coronation Day was more than just the crowning ceremony of the new monarch; it was a tiny opening that had the potential to lead the kingdom out of its forced isolation. If no one had the nerve and courage to take advantage of it then Arendelle would never find peace again and return to its former glory.

The stakes were very high at this point. Jul understood that she might have to put her whole career on the line to make a breakthrough. Scared as she was of losing way more than her beloved routine if something went wrong, she had to put an end to the pain and silence the castle was slowly drowning in. Whatever damage the past thirteen years of guarded secrets behind closed doors had caused could be undone, she was sure of it. Both the kingdom and the Princesses needed a new beginning, a chance at a fairer, fuller life in the open that could only occur if the gates remained open indefinitely.

Jul closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the wall as her decision fully sunk in. So much had changed in the last six years of her life but she still felt herself burn with the same mixture of determination and recklessness that had initially brought her to Arendelle to chase a dream. It was time to stop being a coward who clung desperately to the past instead of fighting for what she really wanted. The future was waiting just within arm’’s reach, warmer and brighter than ever. She had less than twenty-four hours to figure out a flawless strategy of action, one that would help the woman on the other side of the door regain her freedom permanently, no matter the cost.

“Hold on, Your Majesty” she whispered in the silence, “it’s going to be alright.”

Chapter Text

Jul jerked awake as a loud, incessant pounding on her door aroused her from sleep.

“Rise and shine, darling!”

Heart hammering against her ribcage, Jul propped herself up on her elbows, darkness devouring her vision as she tried in vain to blink away the tugging grogginess. A combination of laughter and muffled voices filtered in from the other side of the door, a mere screen that prevented her from observing the ruckus on the other side. Jul felt the familiar shift of the cot as it folded underneath her weight. She sunk bank into the mattress with a wave of relief as she finally remembered making it back to the safety of her room. She hadn’t missed waking up to the unpleasant feeling that she’d fallen asleep in the wrong place, and for a moment she had indeed feared the worst.

The soldiers on morning duty thumped her door one last time for good measure then left to finish their rounds of the barracks with exchanged sniggers. Jul brushed loose strands of hair back from her face and pressed her palms against her eyes with a groan. It had been a while since her comrades had a sudden desire to make her life miserable with juvenile pranks. By their standard, leaving her exhausted and sour with indignation for the day appeared to bring them cruel gratification.

The last couple of hours were slowly coming back to her as her heartbeat returned to a steady rhythm. Her night on the second floor had been uneventful and cold unlike any other before. She’d sat there huddled, shivering in her cloak all night before surrendering to the inevitable. By the time she had returned to her room at the barracks –– mentally and physically exhausted – she had collapsed on her cot and fallen asleep instantly.

It couldn’t have been more than an hour since then. The fitful doze she had slipped into had only brought on a series of vivid, frantic dreams instead of proper rest. Everything hurt: her arms and legs protested in agony with every shifting movement, sore from drilling all afternoon. The night spent crouched on the floor had ultimately drained her raw. It had been difficult to tear herself away from that white door and she’d ended up staying longer than she should’ve. There was no way she’d ever regret spending time at the castle, but on such an important day she needed her strength and wits about her. One way or another she would have to grit her teeth and pull through.

Light was starting to pour in from the crack underneath her door, bathing the tiled floor in the sun’s warm luster. With an involuntary yawn, Jul peeled back the covers and rolled out awkwardly from bed. In the dimness she could just make out the outline of her bedroom. The vile odor of stale air encasing her surroundings delivered a grim reminder that she actually slept inside a broom closet that had been transformed into her living quarters. Windowless and moldy, the tiny space was only big enough for her bunk, a wooden wardrobe at the foot of the bed holding her meager possessions and a small nightstand.

Jul stretched her stiff, aching muscles until she was satisfied with the fluidity of her movements. Feeling much better, she washed her face in a stone basin balanced precariously on her nightstand before retrieving her neatly-folded uniform from a drawer. In a matter of minutes she had shrugged off the wrinkled clothing she’d slept in and into the purple and green uniform of the Royal Guard.

As she finished buttoning her coat, Jul went to the door and unshackled the bolts, easing the door open within a crack of space. Blinding sunlight and the voices of fellow soldiers flooded into the cramped space. She turned to tidy the small confines of her room, making sure the bedding was crisp and nothing was out of place. Morning inspections weren’t common practice but it was rash to risk failing one and dooming her chances at the outset. Nothing had ever come easy to her in this place. Even with all her hard work, discipline was the only card she could play in hopes of being selected by the Captain.

There was a broken shard of glass hanging on the left wall that Jul used as a mirror. It took only a little bit of squinting at her reflection before her blazing red hair was bound again into the practical tight braid she preferred. Ready at last, Jul grabbed the cylindrical hat that completed her uniform and headed outside.

Dozens of guards milled about along the lengthy corridor that housed the soldier’s living quarters. Most of them were headed to the main hall for breakfast while others lingered in small groups, locked in excited conversation. Jul quickly locked the door behind her and started in the opposite direction towards the exit. Meals at the barracks were something to avoid on the eve of important events. Jul had scrubbed at grease stains from her uniform enough times to know when it was better to make herself scarce. Besides, she had a much better alternative in mind.

The castle grounds were more alive than Jul had ever seen them at such an early hour. Gardeners, stable hands and servants were scattered everywhere as she walked hurriedly in the direction of the kitchens. A whirlwind of noise and people greeted her at the back door. Pots and pans were already cluttered along the stove, their contents boiling and sizzling. The exquisite aromas that wafted from the open doorway were overwhelming. Jul ogled at the sight of so much food and so many people at work. Miraculously, she spotted Magnus, the head chef, barking orders at a handful of gangly kitchen boys who cowered under his frightening tartness.

When the cook finally spotted her among the unbridled frenzy, he paused and regarded her thoughtfully for a moment. On such a gigantic man, the expression looked frightening. However, Jul had known Magnus for years, from before he had been appointed head chef by King Agnarr. With his sandy-blond hair and bulging arms and shoulders honed from years as a farmer, Magnus could have easily passed as a Viking, but under his rough exterior and gruff demeanor, a kindred heart pulsed. He was the closest thing Jul had for a friend at the castle, her rock in times of trouble.

Without a word or greeting of sort, Magnus disappeared in the mind-spinning chaos around them. He returned minutes later with a steaming cup in one hand and a plate loaded with eggs and sausages in the other. He pressed them roughly into her hands and fixed her with unwavering green eyes.

“Show them what you’re made of, little one” he growled, disappearing once again before Jul could so much as thank him for the food.

The redhead retired to a quieter corner of the kitchen to consume her luscious breakfast. Magnus had gone out of his way this morning, serving her a ration worthy of a king. Knowing that he believed in her made her all the more eager to prove herself. Nervousness forgotten, she scoffed down her food, praying that it would be enough to keep her going at least for a while.

Ten minutes later she was rushing back outside. Many of the guards were already gathered in the wide expanse of the courtyard outside the barracks where the troops had orders to assemble. Jul could feel their scornful eyes fastening on her, monitoring her every movement. It was no secret that many of her comrades harbored such disdain towards her; it was a mutual resentment fueled throughout the years of exchanged fists and insults. But Jul had far more pressing matters to worry about and paid them no mind. Her gaze instead flickered to the windows of the second floor. They weren’t the same windows leading to the Princesses’ rooms but the sight was enough to fill her with anticipation and tension.

“Guards, at attention!”

Jul nearly started at the sudden order but quickly recovered, dashing towards the front row where the Captain would surely see her. With trembling hands she straightened her cap and then assumed a rigid stance. When everyone around her was finally in position, the courtyard went quiet. Seconds passed in tense silence that was eventually broken by the sound of boots clicking on the cobblestones. At the corner of her vision, Jul saw the unmistakable, imposing figure of Captain Svendsen. The officer advanced on the rounded troops with deliberately small steps, his sharp gaze assessing the state of his men. He walked the entire length of the formation, doubling back to the center of the courtyard where he had a seamless view of his force.

“Soldiers of Arendelle” the Captain began in a rumbling, deep voice that had once carried across battlefields, “today marks a very important moment in the history of our kingdom and we are called upon to prove the strength and might of our land to our foreign guests. Monarchs and dignitaries from the largest and most powerful kingdoms will be arriving presently and I expect nothing but the most impeccable service from every one of you. The time has come for us to emerge from the narrow confines of these walls. We must carry out our duties with the efficiency our army has always been renowned for and show our future Queen that she can rely on our support and protection. Should anyone stand out of line or fail to follow orders, they will face consequences of the utmost severity. Understood!” he bellowed.

“Yes, sir!” thundered the troops in unison.

Cold sweat broke out on the small of Jul’s back. If these were the Captain’s conditions, there might not be a way back from where her plans were bound to lead her.

“Now, listen carefully” Captain Svendsen continued. “As you all know, you will be divided into three units according to your strengths, merits and the commitment shown over the years to the Guard.” Murmurs rose from the rear of the assembled guards but were swiftly silenced by the Captain’s lethal glare. “The first group will operate under my command and will comprise fifteen soldiers – the very best among you – who will focus exclusively on ensuring Princess Elsa’s safety. Colonel Larsen will lead the second unit and supervise the operations at the docks while the last group will secure the perimeter and patrol the grounds under the careful watch of Sergeant Reenberg. Whatever group you are assigned to, it’s important that you all do your part in making this day a success.”

Captain Svendsen nodded to the sharply presented man behind him who promptly handed him a thick roll of parchment. The sight of Lieutenant Drost with the list grasped firmly in his hands sent a ripple of fear down Jul’s spine and she stiffened, feeling her certainties waver all of a sudden. She wondered briefly what it was like to possess the power to decide everyone’’s future, Jul’s future. After years of countless sacrifices her name had to be on that first team, even if that slimy, discriminating pig had personally penned that list. With mounting trepidation, she watched Captain Svendsen unroll the parchment and announce the names of the selected few who’’d have the honor of serving the future Queen from up close.

“Holt, Naess, Hansen, Nasberg…” Jul held her breath, schooling her expression into a calm blankness to hide her growing anxiety. She knew those names and whom they belonged to. She also knew who had earned the right to be on that list but the names weren’t yet, if ever, to be pronounced. An awful coldness began to settle into Jul’s chest as the Captain announced the last three soldiers to join the group, “Jakobsen, Hjorth and Mathisen.”

The touch of finality in the man’s voice crushed Jul’s heart and dreams in a single blow. Something inside her had shattered. It couldn’t be true; six years of painful endurance had suddenly dissolved in the blink of an eye. Her throat swelled. It had taken one list, one single moment to completely unravel everything she had worked so hard for, only to callously slip through her fingers in a cruel twist of fate. All this talk of merits and commitment had been a malicious ploy disguised behind the Captain’s truthful words of encouragement. Lieutenant Drost had manipulated everyone till the very end, choosing the very same men that had turned Jul’s military life into a living hell. He never had the intention to remotely consider Jul’s place among the high ranks. All this time he had dangled a bone from his fingers, inches away from her grasp, and Jul had ultimately fallen for it.

Deluded and so incredibly angry, Jul could only brace her shoulders and wipe every hint of emotion from her face. She knew the man was watching her and so were the noble, wealthy comrades he’d always favored. She could feel their eyes on her like a swarm of disgusting insects crawling on her skin. They knew how badly she’d wanted this but she’d rather die than give them the satisfaction of watching her fall apart.

She stood like an unwavering indention in stone, even when the Captain announced she’d be joining the team working at the docks. Lieutenant Drost was going out of his way to get rid of her but she would have the last word. The mere prospect spending the entire day outside the walls filled her with an aching sense of hopelessness and desperation. She couldn’’t leave the safety of the Princesses in the incapable, unworthy hands of those amateurs. They didn’t possess the physical and intellectual capabilities necessary to be trusted with the most important task of all. They were nothing but brainless tormenters who picked on her solely because of what was absent between her legs. Until the Captain said it was over, she would keep fighting.

Captain Svendsen dismissed the guards as soon as he’d gone through the list. The soldiers broke ranks and sound immediately engulfed the courtyard as scattered articles of conversation drifted from all directions. Jul gathered her resolve and started toward the retreating form of Captain Svendsen. It was a reckless, desperate move but she had to try. He was the only one with the power to fix such a terrible mess.

“Captain!” she called out, sprinting after him. If she lost him in the crowd there’d be no other chance for her to convince him otherwise.

The officer stopped at the sound of her voice and turned. Dressed in his best uniform, the Captain appeared bigger and more intimidating than ever but this didn’t deter Jul as she approached him with iron determination. Surprise and a flicker of interest lanced across his hazel eyes as he gazed down at her.

“I’m really sorry to disturb you, Sir, but I don’t understand why I was left out of the team protecting the Princess” she blurted out at once, knowing the man appreciated her cutting to the chase.

The Captain fixed her for a moment, his face darkening under his thick beard. “The Lieutenant felt some sacrifices had to be made to preserve the overall balance of the team. You’ll have your chance soon, Julia.”

The truth was even worse than the redhead had imagined. How could the Captain still trust a man that was putting his personal interests over the royal family’s safety? Jul didn’t know where it came from but a sudden and powerful vortex of desperation began to occupy the vacant cavity in her chest, replacing her rationality.

“Sir, with all due respect, when is that exactly going to be?” she asked him with a tremor in her voice born from anguish and disbelief. “I’ve been waiting six years for this chance, six years that I spent scraping the barrel of the ranks without a single complaint while everyone around me took their fair share of opportunities and promotions. You know what I can do, Captain. I’m the best fighter you have but how am I supposed to prove it if you keep treating me like a liability instead of a soldier who’s ready to die for this kingdom!”

Jul was shaking, trying earnestly to reign her emotions back in. Desperation had eventually gotten the better of her and she had unleashed all her pent-up frustration on her Captain. She was sure she had gone too far with her words and gotten herself into more trouble but the stunned reaction from the man told her differently. Even though her situation in the Guard was common knowledge, it was clear that her sudden outburst had taken him aback. As he struggled to come up with a response, their exchange was brusquely interrupted.

“Enough of this nonsense!”

Lieutenant Drost materialized at Captain Svendson’s side, startling both Jul and his superior. The officer’s accusing eyes swept over the young woman with scorn and distaste as if the sight of her alone was an offence worthy of punishment. “How dare you speak so impudently to your Captain!”

Jul was startled by his sudden appearance, a stunned expression gradually registering on her face. “Sir, I never meant –”

“Don’t you dare talk back to me!” Lieutenant Drost snarled with such volume that Jul was sure the whole grounds could hear him. “The nerve you have, bothering the Captain with your nonsensical complaints. A spot at the docks is a lot more than you deserve, Carlsson. If it was up to me, you’d be scrubbing the floors of the great hall with the castle maids right now instead of disgracing the Royal Guard with your unseemly behavior.”

Jul recoiled at the threat behind those venomous words but managed to keep her mouth shut this time. Just because he’d finally said it out loud and admitted his spiteful regard of her, she couldn’t risk her job by succumbing to the overwhelming desire to smash her knuckles into his teeth. Her anguished gaze darted to the high windows of the castle before settling on the Captain’s troubled face. Despite the enduring humiliation, she had no trouble meeting his eyes. She was certain he’d been about to speak in her favor before the Lieutenant had rushed in screaming.

“What are you still doing here, Carlsson? Leave before I change my mind” ordered the Lieutenant addressing her as one might regard an insect crawling along his shoe. When Jul made no move to leave, the officer closed the space between them with menacing eyes. Before Lieutenant Drost could do anything, a large hand braced his shoulder, keeping him in place.

“Calm yourself, Gunthar” reasoned the captain in a soft tone, his body rigid with tension. Then he turned to Jul and gave her a small acknowledging nod that she didn’t know what to make of. “Next time, Julia.”

Understanding the dismissal, the redhead saluted and walked away in a blind hurry. The whispers followed her like snuffing bloodhounds on her trail until she abandoned the barracks behind her and reached the front courtyard. With the exception of a few sentries stationed atop the main gates, the place was thankfully deserted. Jul took off her hat and walked over to the fountain to splash some water on her face.

She leaned tiredly against the stone edge and watched her reflection waver on the surface. In a matter of minutes she had broken her promise to the Princess and possibly damaged her relationship with the Captain, all because of a man who couldn’t accept the fact that she was a woman. The injustice of it all was too much to take. A scream tore its way out of Jul’’s throat and she drove her fist into the water, her startled reflection scattering from the surface. Years of sacrifices had served nothing and the Princesses would pay the price of her failure tonight, when the gates would close again and plunge them all back into a world of silence and cold.

Everything was spinning out of control. Jul took deep, shallow breaths and pressed wet hands to her temples, trying to calm herself. Freaking out wasn’t going to help unless she had a sudden desire to pack her things in a bundle and leave. No, she couldn’t give up now, even when the odds were stacked high against her. She would find a way out before the night was over no matter what.

Jul spent a few more minutes basking in the warmth of the rising sun before returning to the barracks in search of her unit. Most of the soldiers were already gathered into three groups that occupied different corners of the courtyard. Jul couldn’t see Colonel Larsen anywhere but she easily spotted her group, a small knot of men stationed at the entrance to the barracks, as far away from the other two units as it could get. Jul understood why as soon as she was close enough to recognize the soldiers’ faces: Lieutenant Drost had gathered every outcast in the Royal Guard, added the greenest recruits to the mix, and discarded them in the only unit that would ensure their absence from the castle grounds for the entire day. It was a vile, discriminating method that perfectly served the Lieutenant’s purposes.

Fuming with rage, Jul approached her new shift mates. She tried to remain as inconspicuous as possible but all the same several faces picked her out from the cluster like a cow’s raw hide. She was so used to ignoring the stares and whispers that she nearly missed the nods of acknowledgment following her arrival, including a polite hand wave from someone at the back. Dumbfounded as she was by the unexpected welcoming gestures, Jul responded but remained wary. The lack of animosity was extremely foreign to her, almost unsettling. She was accustomed to this sudden act of hospitality. She supposed these men shared her same experience when it came to the young lordlings in the Guard, spoiled men who looked down upon anyone of lower class and status.

“Gather up, soldiers!”

Colonel Larsen emerged from the open archway leading to the barracks at a brisk pace. Nobody had bothered to stand respectfully before the officer, only shifting to meet his neutral face. Jul was disconcerted but the Colonel didn’t even seem to notice, venturing instead into a brief explanation of their duties at the docks.

“Alright, let’s make this quick. The Captain wants me to take the lot of you to the docks and assist the guests coming by sea. Our main job is to help the ships’ crew and the guests on board. This will include docking the ships and unloading their cargoes. It’s nothing overly complicated unless you were sleeping during training in which case, good luck” the Colonel chuckled. Several people broke into muttered complaints but their superior went on unperturbed. “The Captain insisted that I remind you to be on your best behavior, whatever that is for some of you – yes, Klaas, especially you. The first impression our visitors will have of Arendelle will be of us so be as polite and efficient as possible. One last thing: if you see anything suspicious come to me at once. Questions?”

The lack of formality had stunned Jul into silence but the others looked very much at ease with it.

“What about that feast in town? Can we go?” enquired a tall youth with hopeful eyes.

“I don’t know anything about a feast” Colonel Larsen replied evasively, adding a wink for good measure. The soldiers exploded into cheers and laughter but were then signaled for silence by the Colonel. “If that is all, I’ll expect to meet the lot of you at the gates in an hour. Don’t be late.”

Jul watched Colonel Larsen disappear inside the barracks, brooding about the ginger-haired officer’s questionable performance. He was nothing like her superiors and he didn’t pretend to act like one either. His methods were unorthodox, there was no doubt about that, but the soldiers respected him and followed him without question or fear. Jul began to understand why she’d hardly been under the Colonel’s command and why all of a sudden he’d been chosen to lead an assemblage of outcasts instead of remaining at the castle with every other high-ranking officer. The Royal Guard – or rather the idea that Jul had of it – was beginning to grind away into dust, a mere memory of a dream. She should’ve realized sooner that the Captain was losing his grip on the army by putting his trust in the wrong people.

In the hour that followed Jul moved back to the front courtyard away from prying eyes. Sitting on the steps leading to the castle’s front doors, she fruitlessly racked her brain to find a solution for her current situation but her current predicament. Too soon she was standing at the gates with her shift mates. Colonel Larsen led them outside through the small side door set into the outer wall and towards the bridge connecting the castle to the town square. For many of the soldiers it would be the first expedition outside the grounds in a very long time and the excitement was palpable in spite of the heavy work load that awaited them. Jul trailed along in silence, listening to the Colonel’s last instructions.

“After consulting with the Captain, I decided to split you into pairs. Each couple will take a pier. Don’t forget that the guests are you priority and anything that happens on your watch is your responsibility. Good luck!”

As soon as they reached the docks, Colonel Larsen began calling out names from a scroll. Two at a time, the guards detached themselves from the group and took up position at the pier assigned to them. Halfway down the docks, Jul heard her name followed by Nicklas Falk. She saluted formally enough to earn herself quite a few raised eyebrows and followed her work partner to their pier.

Most of the docks on the southern side were so far unoccupied; theirs was no exception. Far on the horizon Jul could identify the sleek outlines of several vessels, cutting across the ocean towards the fjord. It wouldn’t be long before they reached port. To occupy the time and distract herself from her worries, Jul directed her gaze to her inconspicuous companion. At first glance Nicklas looked no older than twenty: his short raven locks framing the bottomless hue of his eyes, magnifying the air of someone who was best kept at a distance. He was broad-shouldered and slender, a giant veiled in a coat of hard, lean muscle. Jul couldn’t help but wonder why Nicklas of all people would be shirked by Lieutenant Drost but the first few minutes in his company willingly provided an answer. Nicklas was a quiet boy who appeared drained of any trace of menace or danger, instead observing his surroundings with the quaintness of a cat. Jul could sense a gentle, introverted soul hidden behind the hard surface of his skin and it made her feel more at ease than she had in a long time with anyone else. Colonel Larsen had chosen wisely.

Sighing deeply, she closed her eyes and tilted her head back, relishing the cool breeze blowing in from the fjord. Behind them, the town hummed with the sounds of vendor’s setting up shops and the townspeople communing in the square. People from all over the kingdom would be arriving to join the celebrations and sneak a glimpse at the new monarch. Jul’s chest constricted painfully. It was a crucial day for Arendelle and she was missing out on the most vital moment of all.

“They’re coming” Nicklas warned her, his voice shaking her out of her misery with more pressing matters.

Following his line of sight, Jul spotted three vessels entering the bay. Wordlessly, they both set off down the pier. The first two ships docked on the other side of the bay and immediately began unloading. Right behind them, the following ship sailed past, aiming straight for them. Nodding to each other, Jul and Nicklas took up positions on opposite sides of the pier. Rows appeared on either side of the hull while the lively crew on deck furled all but one sail to aid their captain’s maneuvers. Jul looked up at the flag flapping on the higher mast with a flicker of recognition; a golden sun weaved into the cloth, shining brightly against its rich lavender surface. Corona.

Orders were fired on deck and immediately a coil of mooring rope was thrown overboard. With deft fingers, Jul snatched it out of the air. Waves lapped at her feet as she fastened it tightly to the post with secure knots while the anchor dropped into the water with a loud splash. Up on deck, voices called out to one another, the captain’s orders ringing higher above the noise. When the boat eventually stilled, Jul joined Nicklas halfway down the pier where the sailors were lowering the gangway for the passengers. They stood to attention on either side of the wooden staircase as instructed.

“Eugene! Put down that brush and come out of there! I will not be late because of your obsession with your hair. Seriously, you’re worse than some princesses I know!”

Jul looked up and immediately recognized the petite brunette standing up on deck. The Princess was dressed in a beautiful, lilac dress, a hand tapping the railing with rising impatience. The source of her distress appeared at her elbow with unnerving calmness in the form of a handsome man wearing the stunning colors of Corona. His sleeveless waistcoat was a rich tint of purple, his frame brandishing a dazzling pair of golden shoulder pads which matched the embroidered symbol of Corona on his chest. With an expression of feigned irritation, the man adjusted the golden sash on his left shoulder and smoothed the trimmed goatee on his chin.

“You should know from experience that my handsome face is key to making a good impression at these social events. It wouldn’t do for our kingdom to suffer unjustly because you rushed my morning preparations.”

The Princess let out an exasperated sigh. “The only one suffering here is me, Eugene. Besides, no amount of preparation is going to fix that nose of yours.”

Her husband – Jul had naturally assumed from the matching golden rings encircling their fingers – gasped dramatically, his hands frantically scouring the surface of his nose as if to check it was still intact. The Princess’s hands flew up in surrender as she marched down the ladder muttering under her breath without casting a backward glance.

In spite of the exchange, they were both grinning in much the same manner as they descended the wooden gangway. Without hesitation, the redhead sprang forward and offered her gloved hand to the small Princess. It turned out to be the wise choice of action. Water had rendered the last steps slippery, a death trap for someone who seemed to be teetering dangerously on the soles of her heels. Jul secured the Princess’s arm just in time to keep the woman from plunging into the bay.

“Welcome to Arendelle, Your Majesty” said Jul with a bow after she’d led the woman safely back on solid ground.

The tiny Princess finally released her grip on Jul’s arm and looked up at her. She blinked, her big eyes lighting up with wonder.

“Thank you!” she breathed in awe. She turned to her husband, positively beaming. “Look, Eugene! They have women in the army!”

The statement was only partially accurate since Jul was the only exception, but just this once she was content to let it slide. Never before had someone looked so honestly excited to see a woman in uniform.

“I can see that, Rapunzel. A fortunate thing, too. I don’t think it’s an appropriate time for swimming” her husband teased, grinning. His gaze fell on the guards and he frowned in thought. “To be honest, though, I imagined something better from the fashion department of a kingdom prominent for its trades in cloth. I mean, the colors of those uniforms are so drab, the cut so unflattering. I wouldn’t –”

“Please, forgive my husband” said the Princess, throwing Jul an apologetic smile. She tugged at her husband’s hand, dragging him away before he indulged in any more unwanted comments. “Thank you for your help” she called out.

Jul watched the Princess of Corona walk down the pier with her husband trailing behind her. The young woman reminded her of Princess Anna in so many ways. She imagined the two would get along perfectly if they met today and she truly hoped they did. She’d seen what a toll the isolation had taken on the younger Princess over the years, even on such a strong, energetic person like her. The company would do wonders for her, if only Jul knew how to make it last…

Still baffled by the strange and yet refreshing encounter, Jul returned her attention to the task at hand. Nicklas was already busy unloading gifts with the aid of the ship’s crew and she joined him. They worked in silence for a long while under the beating glare of the sun, dispatching large crates that consisted of the finest casks of wine, oil paintings and gorgeous flowers For the longest time Corona had been one of Arendelle’s most powerful trade partners and the hospitable kingdom had not held back on such an important occasion. It was good to learn certain accords were still respected and valued in spite of the continued isolation that had forced relations to a rather difficult standstill.

“That’s the last of them” said Jul, tossing another sack of apples onto the second wagon, filled to the brim with imports which would be directed towards the castle. The driver raised his hand in salute and flicked the reins, nudging his bay into a walk.

Sweaty and tired, Jul collapsed beside Nicklas at the foot of the pier. Her stiff muscles were burning with fatigue and the feeling only intensified under the uncomfortable weight of her uniform. Beside her, Nicklas had removed his hat and gloves to splash handfuls of water on his face and she followed suit. The fresh water from the fjord was a welcoming respite on her skin and Jul leaned back on the pier with a heavy sigh, a sense of restlessness entangling her mind and forcing the weight of her thoughts back onto her shoulders.

“Great work back there” Nicklas muttered unexpectedly.

Jul glanced sideways at him, searching his features carefully for any sign of jest. It was the last thing she needed on a day that was already shaping up to be a complete disaster, but her comrade looked nothing but sincere.

“Thank you” said Jul, offering him a weak smile.

For a while they simply sat there, indulged in their silence, watching the coming and going of ships inside the bay. A deep, scraping metallic sound drew their attention to the castle gates where a long stream of people was gathered and waiting. With a creak of hinges, the double set of doors swung inward towards the excited crowd. As beautiful as the sight was for someone who had known and witnessed the pain that the isolation had caused, Jul tore her eyes away. Within minutes the royal guests would be gathered inside the chapel to witness the crowning of Princess Elsa as the new monarch of Arendelle and Jul felt miles away from where she was supposed to be.

“I’m sorry you got stuck here with us today. For all it’s worth, I think you deserved the honor of serving the Queen” Nicklas told her, surprising her once again. He understood how angry Jul was as he looked down at her trembling fists, bunching up the cloth of her white gloves. “We’ve all seen what you’re capable of and I know I’m not the only one who thinks you make a great soldier. Don’t let the Lieutenant get to you.”

Touched by her partner’s kind words, Jul relaxed and let the tension flow out of her. “That means a lot to me, thank you. It’s too bad you’re not the person I need to be convincing though. I feel so stupid now for thinking that Lieutenant Drost would ever consider me for that spot. I had no idea he hated me that much.”

“And yet you tried.”

“Yes, for all the good it did” muttered Jul, sounding utterly defeated.

Nicklas regarded her with thoughtful eyes that were calm and steady. “What changed?” he asked.

Jul blinked in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“Until this morning I didn’t even know what your voice sounded like, Julia. We knew you were trying to fly under the radar because of those bastards but it had gotten to a point where it was hard to tell if you felt anything at all anymore” deadpanned the dark-haired soldier. “Then all of a sudden you almost come to blows with the most feared officer in the army trying to talk some sense into the Captain. Why’d you do it? What was so important that you were willing to risk your post for?”

For a moment Jul could only stare at him blankly. It wasn’t just the fact that he’d interpreted her actions with the ease of reading an open book, he was also explaining to her things from his point of view and the sight was confusing and disorienting. For years she had thought the worst of her comrades without exception and she had protected herself by concealing her feelings where no one could dare probe. But Nicklas was painting a completely different picture with his words, one that Jul didn’t know if she could believe.

“I’m afraid it’s a long story” she managed at last.

In the distance, the melodious ringing of the church bells signaled the beginning of the ceremony. The town square had almost emptied. Except for a few vendors and the guards at work, everyone was gathered in the castle’s front courtyard and the silence than hung in the air was almost surreal.

Nicklas nodded and for a while the soldier was quiet and unmoving. Jul thought she’d put him off but Nicklas spoke again, not in the least bit discouraged, and made her the one offer she least expected: friendship.

“This feels like a great time for a story, don’t you think?”

Jul felt her lips curve into a smile that was tinged with a hint of sadness. She’d given up hope of finding a friend in the army within the first month of service. With the exception of Magnus and the servants at the stables she didn’t really have anyone else to talk to and all of a sudden things were changing. The willing subject had arrived several years too late, in a moment when she found it hard to trust anyone at all. He was sitting right beside her, reading, analyzing every doubt crossing her face and waiting with a patience that could only mean he actually cared to hear her story. Jul was free to walk away from the offer and continue with her lonely and miserable life or she could take a leap of faith and risk finding an ally in the midst of so much chaos.

Jul threw one last, longing look at the castle and then started from the beginning.

Chapter Text

When the church bells chimed the end of the crowning ceremony, the tense silence that had settled over Arendelle broke into a liberating explosion of cheers and applause. Even at a distance, the joy and relief that seized the crowd were palpable. Jul felt them as clearly as if she’d been standing among them. She understood what kind of weight had been lifted off their shoulders. After three long, stressful years, the threat of a vacant throne was behind them and the kingdom was once again in the hands of its rightful ruler.

There was reason to rejoice and celebrate, as well as hope for a new beginning. However, the crowning of the Queen was nothing but a tiny step in the right direction. Hopes and dreams alone would not be enough to restore Arendelle to its former glory. That much Jul was sure of.

Soon enough, a steady stream of people began pouring out of the open gates amid cheers and chants, hundreds of voices raised together in hailing the new Queen.

From the piers, Jul watched their progress with envy and trepidation. She was anxious to hear what sort of news they were bringing back from the castle and even more so to inquire after what they had seen. Was the Queen in good health? Was Princess Anna finally reconnecting with her sister? What were the guests’ reactions to the new monarch?

At least for the moment, though, her questions would have to wait. Another vessel had just docked at their pier and Nicklas was calling her for help.

Jul rushed to his aid, glancing with gloom at the workload ahead. Stacks of crates and boxes already littered the ship’s main deck and more were on their way as the ship’s crew finished unloading the cargo hold.

Even though lifting crates of expensive wine bottles was quite exhausting, the questions that niggled in the back of Jul’s mind proved to be even more insurmountable. In fact, they were still nagging at her long after the last of the boxes had been shipped off to the castle and they finally stopped for a break. Nicklas tried his best to keep her mind off things by making a few attempts at conversation. It was awkward at first, given Jul’s rusty social skills, but somehow they made it work.

By the time they had completed their tasks it was well past noon. The town feast was already underway and snatches of music and laughter drifted to them upon the wind from the main square.

They’d just settled in the shade of the ship’s massive bulk to escape the oppressive heat when they received orders from Colonel Larsen. The officer was relieving his men of duty for a few hours, instructing them to eat and rest after a hard morning at work.

Jul paused, hardly believing what she was hearing. Was the Colonel out of his mind? Who was going to guard the harbor while all his soldiers were off getting drunk at the party?

“That’s what the watch towers are for, Julia” Nicklas reminded her. “Besides, nothing will happen while we’re gone. Trust me, we’ll be back before you know it.”

And just like that, Jul found herself seated at the noisiest, most crowded table at the feast, sharing roasted meat and ale with a handful of her comrades and the whole crew of Corona’s ship. The meal was a boisterous, messy affair, the likes of which the barracks dining hall had never seen. In no time the sailors had put everyone at ease with their rough, easygoing manners. Arendelle’s younger guards hung at their every word, listening with rapt attention as the seasoned seamen launched into wondrous tales of their distant kingdom.

Squeezed between Nicklas and a burly, tanned man with a curling black mustache who smelled like pickled herrings, Jul ate in silence. The moment was so incredibly unique and yet she was unable to enjoy it like everybody else. If it had been any other day, she would’ve welcomed the unusual company and longed to hear more about one of Arendelle’s most trusted allies. But, as it was, she kept tuning in and out of the conversation, growing restless as the meal progressed.

For the sake of politeness if nothing else, she decided it was best to cut her break short. As soon as she was done with the food, Jul excused herself and left the table amid cries of protest.

The midday heat was stifling in spite of the light breeze blowing off the fjord. Jul hurried along the empty wharves and returned to the pier. Once there, she settled back in the shade of the vessel, hoping the unease she felt would disappear once she returned to her duties.

Minutes into her shift it became clear that the relaxing quiet of the docks would not calm her racing thoughts. Jul wrapped her arms around her knees with a frustrated sigh and squinted up at the distant palace. With practiced ease her eyes found the well known outline of the castle’s upper floors. The tall windows glowed with sunlight, so bright and familiar that Jul’s heart ached, knowing she may never get to see them shine quite like this ever again.

The sudden sting of tears behind her eyelids told Jul she’d discovered the source of her unrest. Between her morning duties and Nicklas’ pleasant company, she’d been too caught up to focus on her backup plan to save Arendelle. Despite that, the issue had been lurking in the back of her mind, demanding attention.

Jul was not surprised by how her mission had resurfaced, nor by the rush of cold fury and despair it had reignited within her. Inside the castle walls, the opportunity of a lifetime was wasting away in somebody else’s hands, the hands of a soldier who had no idea how much more than the Queen’s safety was at stake. Jul still seethed with anger over her exclusion from the Captain’s team. It wasn’t a matter of resentment, though. It was something that went beyond her wounded pride and beyond Drost’s vile schemes.

Last night she’d made a solemn promise to the Queen that things would be alright. It didn’t matter that the woman hadn’t an inkling of such a valiant proclamation.

How those words had tormented her since Captain Svendsen’s announcement off that cursed scroll. With only a few hours left before the end of the celebrations, she didn’t have the slightest clue how to follow through on her promise. The chances of her getting closer to Her Majesty at this moment were less than zero, and lower still, the possibility of infiltrating the castle undetected.

Shaking her head darkly, Jul tossed her hat aside with more force than necessary and wiped sweat off her brow. For a moment she allowed the sea breeze to cool her heated skin and settle her spiked nerves. She wouldn’t be of help to anyone, much less to the queen, if she let her anger and impatience get the better of her. She had to keep her wits about her. Lieutenant Drost thought he’d written her out of the story but she would find a way to play her part, come hell or high water.

Determined to find a solution, Jul embarked on a personal quest for answers that was long overdue. First, she had to start by figuring out the reasons behind the isolation – both the Queen and the kingdom’s, and her memories might be the best place to look. There were bound to be hidden clues buried somewhere in her six years of service. Maybe Princess Anna had mentioned something to her during her brief visits to the stables. Or perhaps she had overheard something at the barracks or from the castle staff that she had ignored or overlooked.

Unfortunately sorting through her memories was not as simple and rapid as Jul would’ve liked. With no real progress to speak of, minutes of pondering quickly turned into hours.

She was still at it when at last Nicklas returned from the party, pacing the length of the wharf like a caged animal, all the while muttering to herself. Miraculously, Nicklas managed to convince her into taking a few calming breaths before coaxing her into joining him on the steps that led down to the harbor.

The respite didn’t last long however. Jul could almost hear the minutes ticking by in the distant clock tower as the pressure mounted. The shadows were gradually lengthening across the village and she hadn’t found one thing that would help her solve the mystery.

This is a major waste of time, Jul thought in exasperation; hours of dwelling on memories only to come up empty-handed. The urgency of the situation and a clear lack of alternatives called for a more practical approach, one that was guaranteed to get her in a world of trouble.

Nicklas’ face said it all as Jul explained to him her new change of strategy. Despite his protests, she still managed to involve her unwilling partner into a one-sided brainstorming session. While Jul would come up with ideas on how to enter the castle undetected, Nicklas would bluntly point out their flaws, while trying at the same time to appeal to her common sense.

As the session wore on, Jul’s plans grew progressively more reckless and wild, to the point where the only thing Jul had managed to convince Nicklas of, was that her common sense was a lacking attribute.

“I’m sorry, Julia, but this game has gone too far. I understand how much is on the line tonight but storming the castle and getting killed in the process is not going to help anyone. If anything you’re going to make things worse.”

“But what other choice do I have? If I don’t go in there tonight and do something, the gates will close and we’ll all be isolated again” Jul countered vehemently.

Nicklas heaved a deep sigh, running a hand through his short-cropped hair. “You don’t know that for sure. Besides, if the gates remain open after tonight’s party, you’ll have committed treason for nothing.”

Sadly, Jul had never been more certain about something in her entire life. After spending so many nights outside the Queen’s door, there was no doubt in her mind that the ending in sight would not be a happy one. She knew better than to be swayed by what she’d heard about the woman from the townspeople after the crowning ceremony; a beautiful woman with pale, blond hair and dazzling blue eyes who had impressed the illustrious guests with her elegance and regal composure.

Of course Jul was happy and beyond relieved to hear that the Queen was in good health. On the other hand, it also meant that something else was at the heart of Her Majesty’s withdrawal, something equally serious. A fact that the townspeople seemed more than happy to ignore altogether. Their lack of concern worried Jul more than she could say. Did these people really think that one public outing would magically fix everything?

A quick glance at the ongoing celebrations only confirmed that indeed they did. Music drifted from the town square, where the tables had been carried away to make room for a band of improvised musicians who played one lively tune after the other. People were dancing, singing loudly and clapping along to the beat in a state of euphoria that was only partly induced by the stack of empty wine barrels that lay empty and abandoned on the side of the road. A part of Jul wanted to march into the crowd and yell at everyone who would listen to snap back to their senses. Another part wanted to spare these people the pain of knowing their newfound freedom might be taken away before the night was over. Arendelle’s citizens had undoubtedly paid the highest price for the kingdom’s isolation. They deserved one night to celebrate, their hearts light and warm with the promise of better days.

The truth was they only had a few hours before the dream of a new Arendelle faded in the distance. Night was stealing upon the fjord with a majestic full moon that seemed to mock Jul’s last, desperate attempts to come up with a sensible plan. Every minute was a slow, torturous descent into despair that offered no escape. Her ideas blurred into one another, tangling into a hot, useless mess without purpose or meaning. There wasn’t much time left to figure out a solution before the royal party came to an end. In fact the citizens were already abandoning the celebrations in the town square and heading for the lamp lit stone bridge. Their voices rose with excitement. Soon the newly crowned Queen would make a public appearance to greet her subjects for the first time.

Jul watched their progress from the pier with envy, drained and exhausted from the intense mental struggle. She felt pretty much at the end of her rope. Hours of useless plotting had gone by and the only thing she had to show for - other than a splitting headache - was the dreadful certainty that she’d wasted the entire afternoon trying to tackle the problem from the wrong angle.

The disastrous brainstorming session with Nicklas should have clued her in. Her biggest mistake had been relying too much on her own strategic and thieving skills. Stealth and wits had served her well so far but they could not be the answer to her problem; not this time. Captain Svendsen’s security measures were designed to be foolproof, as well they should be, so sneaking in was out of the question. That left Jul with the most dangerous, terrifying alternative of all: putting her post and life on the line in order to keep her dream of a new Arendelle alive.

So much can go wrong, Jul thought, taking a shaky breath. Endless terrifying scenarios flashed through her mind but she squashed them before fear could take the upper hand. At this point there was no other way to accomplish the impossible if not with an act of insane courage as well as incredible stupidity. Jul possessed both, and with the stakes getting higher, she couldn’t afford to hold back any longer, no matter what it cost her.

A surprising sense of focused calm washed over Jul as soon as she embraced her decision. In a moment the restlessness that had plagued her all day was gone, and with it, the crushing weight of doubts and responsibilities she had shouldered. Even her aches and pains were slowly ebbing away and leaving her tired muscles. It was like someone had breathed new life into her, giving her a new and greater sense of purpose.

A sudden roar of enthusiastic applause erupted from the castle’s inner courtyard. Instantly Jul was on her feet, heart pounding and muscles taut, ready for action. The royal party was over and the Queen had walked outside to greet her subjects before retiring for the night. This meant that Jul only had minutes, if not less, before the guests would return to their vessels and sail home. Her window of opportunity was closing. It was now or never.

“Julia?”

The sound of Nicklas’ worried voice caught the redhead unawares. Her fellow guard was sitting by the water’s edge, watching her closely in the flickering light of the torches that burned along the docks. Up until that moment her work partner had kept to himself, barely speaking a word in the aftermath of their unsuccessful brainstorming session. Jul had begun to take his retreat into silence as a wish to distance himself from her reckless, treasonous plans but the deep concern on his face proved that her distrust had been misplaced. Once again she’d been too quick to judge him.

Jul shifted uneasily under the intensity of his gaze, torn between duty and comradeship. Although she had no time to lose, Nicklas deserved an explanation before she plunged into the night on a suicide mission.

But Jul never got to tell him how grateful she was for all he’d done.

Screams pierced the night, once, then twice in quick succession. They erupted from the castle grounds – an explosion of countless, terrified voices – before being swallowed up by ringing silence.

Terror tore at Jul’s heart, pure and needle sharp. Heedless of her partner’s cries, she bolted down the docks as fast as her legs would carry her. Within seconds she was sprinting across the bridge towards the gates only to find the huge oak-and-iron doors closed tight.

Cursing, Jul skidded to a halt. “Open the damned gates!” she called out, pounding on them with closed fists.

The blows echoed loudly in the eerie stillness that had settled over the fjord. A handful of long, interminable seconds passed before the wicket gate on Jul’s right swung open with a loud metallic bang and a guard stepped outside. Jul took in the shaking of the man’s hands and his widened pupils at a glance. A fresh wave of fear rose in the pit of her stomach but she forced it back down. Before the guard could react, she made a dash for the small opening, roughly shoving him aside to swiftly vanish through the door.

Nothing could’ve prepared Jul for the scene that met her on the other side of the gates. The main courtyard was packed with hundreds of people, townspeople and foreign travelers, yet the space might as well have been empty. Except for the cries of an infant, Jul could hear nothing but her own hurried steps on the cobblestones. Everyone stood still as stone, silent, some kind of unspeakable horror reflected in their eyes. 

The hair on Jul’s arms stood up on end at the sight but she willed her legs to keep going. She pushed roughly through the unmoving crowd in a blind panic, shoving aside anyone who stood in her way.

When at last the castle’s entrance came into view, all the color drained from Jul’s sunburned face. Wide-eyed, she slowed to a halt. From where she stood, a shimmering layer of frost and ice spread out on the ground in a straight line; it crept up the front steps, snaked around the marble columns, and up the castle’s double doors, thickening into deadly icicles that jutted from the ground like outstretched wings.

There was something unnatural about the scene and it drove spikes of fear through Jul’s heaving chest. Her blue eyes flitted tensely from the whitened portico to the open doors, before resting on the lit entrance that lay beyond them, unguarded. Cold sweat trickled down the small of her back. The Queen was nowhere in sight.

So far all signs pointed to an attack, yet Jul could not find clear evidence of it anywhere. There was no blood on the floor, no casualties or injured to speak of. Plus the guards stationed on the battlement were just as stunned and speechless as the crowd below and Jul had yet to hear a single officer firing orders at his men.

Clearly this couldn’t be the aftermath of an assassination or kidnapping attempt. Something else entirely was going on, Jul was certain of it. And the more she stared at the wintry picture, the more she feared the ice might be at the center of it all.

Hard as it was to trust her eyes not to fool her, she knew she was looking at something that defied the laws of the world she lived in. Magic, mysteries, disappearances, conspiracies; her day so far had had the makings of a very elaborate nightmare. Jul half-expected to be woken up by the sound of someone pounding on her door. She would’ve given anything for a chance to start over and do things differently. But the magic was real and Jul needed to accept it quickly. Such an unpredictable variable put the Queen in even more danger than before. Whatever - or whomever - had elicited such blood-chilling screams, could very well be behind the Queen’s disappearance.

Jul couldn’t suppress a shudder at the thought of what she might be going up against. The citizens had been so badly frightened that only now they were starting to recover from the shock of what they’d seen. With pale faces and eyes downcast, they huddled in small groups, talking to one another in hushed whispers, their shoulders slumped with resignation as if the hope of a lifetime had just been snatched from their very hands.

From the low murmur of conversations around her, Jul caught arguments, prayers and snatches of what had transpired. Most of it made little to no sense to her but it was clear that the Queen was involved somehow. Her name was on everyone’s lips. The way it was spoken, though, jarred with the many good things Jul had heard all morning from the villagers themselves. The reverence and admiration that had lit up their eyes at the mere mention of Her Majesty’s name were gone, while fear and distrust had taken their place. What could the woman have done to warrant such contempt? And how did the ice fit into it?

Jul could not believe how quickly Arendelle had reverted to the lost, broken Kingdom she had always known. Her worst fears were coming true and the night wasn’t even over yet. If she didn’t figure out soon how the woman’s disappearance and the ice were connected, the townspeople’s sudden animosity towards the Queen would be the last of her problems.

Grimacing, Jul stepped away from the whispering crowd and made a beeline for the open doors without a second thought. Assuming Her Majesty had not been captured, there was a small chance the Queen had fled inside the castle to escape from both the ice and her subjects. If Jul was right and the woman had indeed locked herself into her bedroom, then it was time for Jul to finally take a chance. She was done being afraid of that damned white door.

With one hand resting warily on the pommel of her sword, Jul advanced with purpose. She kept her head bowed and tried to make herself as inconspicuous as possible should anyone be watching from the battlement.

She was almost to the staircase when a shining outline appeared at the edge of her vision.

With a gasp of surprise, Jul jerked to a stop. Looming over her was a wall of frozen water, rising into the night like a monstrous wave about to crash down on the unsuspecting. In her haste to reach the front doors, Jul had failed to notice the silent, frost-covered fountain. Seeing what the magic had turned it into, she wondered how. It was impossible to miss the gigantic ice sculpture as it towered over the courtyard with a curved web of jagged icicles that intertwined in midair.

Under its menacing shadow, Jul sensed a great danger as well as a coldness that went beyond any physical sensation. Power coursed through the ice, wild and raw. Even from where she stood, Jul could feel it slithering on her skin, sending chills down her spine, and compelling her to get closer.

Jul glanced back at the open entryway with something that went close to longing. After years of sneaking in through a window like a burglar, the open doors were nothing short of a mirage. They seemed to beckon her forward, inviting her to come inside. But the pull of the frozen fountain was stronger, almost magnetic.

Against her better judgment, Jul found herself turning away from the portico and walking up to the fountain basin instead. With a growing sense of urgency, Jul stepped closer to the ice sculpture, all the while wondering if the magic was doing something to her. She must be going crazy otherwise. There was no way a fountain had suddenly become more important than the Queen herself. Only when she reached out with a gloved hand and touched the basin’s frosted rim did she understand what had prompted her choice. Something about the frozen water felt familiar. It stirred a memory in the back of her mind that she was unable to grasp, try as she might.

The unfocused images lurked behind her eyelids with increasing insistence but the memory refused to show itself. Jul gripped the rim of the fountain tightly, her fingers already numbing through the fabric. While she no longer doubted her instinct, Jul still had no idea what the connection was between the Queen and the fountain or how to find it. Certainly it couldn’t be the ice itself, she figured. Given its proximity to the Northern Mountain, winters had always been long and hard in Arendelle. Jul had seen snow and ice in abundance, especially over the past three years, but never later than early spring.

Or had she?

A small sliver of doubt crept into Jul’s thoughts with the stealth of a thief. Silently, it sneaked past her defenses, past the blocks her unconscious had built over time and made them crumble from the inside. Within moments the images spilled forth in a harsh, relentless stream that raged and churned like a rushing river.

The memory emerged then in vivid detail. Jul saw herself only hours before, standing in front of the Queen’s white door, one hand resting on its frosted surface.

Jul staggered back from the fountain, gasping as if the stream of images had actually pulled her under. Breathing heavily, she stared in numb disbelief at the shining sculpture, too stunned for words. Fear pinned her feet firmly to the ground while her brain scrambled for a simple, logical explanation, anything that would put things back to how they were. But deep inside, Jul knew there was no going back.

Regardless, she steeled herself and drew near the fountain again. She took off her gloves and hesitantly laid trembling hands on the frozen rim. As soon as her callused palms touched the ice, recognition flared in her hands, a cold tingling in her fingertips that raced all the way up to her elbows. The feeling was unmistakable. Jul only had to close her eyes to see herself standing in front of the Queen’s white door, one hand pressed against a patch of frost that just wouldn’t thaw.

Numbly, Jul let go of the fountain as well as the memory. Her last glimmer of hope flickered out like a snuffed candle and left her fumbling in the darkness. She was lost, trapped in a jumble of past, discarded memories unraveling before her. Together they painted a truth that was equal parts terrifying and devastating. The isolation, the secrets, the mysteries and - above all else - the cold: it was all connected, it always had been. And the signs, the same ones Jul had ignored for the better part of the last six years, they all pointed in the same direction.

Jul’s eyes swept over the frozen entrance only to linger on the fountain with a new, grim understanding. Looking at the damage, it was all the more painful now that she knew what had caused it. Who had caused it. Jul could hardly bring herself to put the outrageous thought into words, let alone say it out loud. But even though the soldier in her screamed treason at the top of her lungs, nothing could change the shattering truth finally laid bare in front of her.

The Queen had magical powers.

Jul closed her eyes and took in a rattling breath, struggling for control. The shock of the discovery was raw, devastating. It clawed at her heart with the fury of a cornered beast. The sharpness of its blows overshadowed her emotions until she could feel nothing but a deep, resounding ache in her chest.

It was a pain unlike anything Jul had ever experienced before. And the more she struggled to reconcile understanding and acceptance, the harder the emotions inside of her flared up. For a moment they threatened to consume her from the inside out. Only when she allowed the words to truly sink in, did the tumultuous tide ebb away.

In its wake only a numbing emptiness remained, along with the ruins of a world Jul had thought she knew like the back of her hand. In one moment - the matter of one sentence - everything had come crashing down like a house of cards in the summer breeze; her past, present and future rewritten from scratch, her certainties upended, her dreams buried under a solid wall of unseasonal ice.

There was little that the truth had left unscathed. Jul could feel the change already at work within her, fixing her memories, transforming her thoughts. Nothing looked and felt right anymore. Even the sight of the castle, the place she had called home for so long, had lost its warm familiarity. Its thick stone walls - once trusted friends under the cover of night - rose menacingly into the dark sky with unprecedented hostility. They were almost unrecognizable, unwelcoming, a barrier against foes and friends alike.

Staring up at the massive building, Jul no longer saw the palace she’d always known and loved but an impenetrable fortress where the Royals had kept their deepest, most damning secret hidden from the outside world. Her mind still reeled from the blow that the shocking discovery had delivered. To think that she’d been up there walking these hallways merely hours before, praying for a chance to set things right. Instead the truth had taken away everything, blindsiding her in the worst way possible.

In an instant the hopeful future she had envisioned for the kingdom had morphed into a living nightmare. The worst part was knowing that there would be no waking up from it, not this time. She wouldn’t get to open her eyes to find she had dozed off in front of the white door, with Coronation Day still on the horizon and so full of possibilities.

Even if it pained her to do so, she had to face the truth and put the blame where it was due. So far her attachment and affection for the Royal Family had blinded her but she couldn’t deny the damage that their lies and deception had caused any longer. If the kingdom had fallen into chaos it was because the late King and Queen had betrayed their citizens’ trust, leaving them to bear the consequences of their ill-advised decisions.

In spite of the immense love and gratitude Jul had for the former rulers, she could not bring herself to condone their choices, even if they’d come from a place of love. Arendelle would be the one to ultimately pay the price for their mistakes. It already was.

Jul only had look at the people gathered in the courtyard to see the cracks starting to show. Their faith in the Crown was rapidly fraying at the edges, crumbling under the weight of failed hopes and expectations. After more than a decade of working hard for so little gain, the citizens felt cheated, and rightly so. Coronation Day had given them a taste of a brighter future only to snatch it away with brutality at the very last moment. And to add insult to injury, the illusion had been broken by the very same hands that should’ve brought the kingdom out of recession.

There may not be a revolt with torches and pitchforks underway but Jul knew how much anger and resentment lurked under the citizens’ composure. She’d heard what kind of vile accusations and insults had left their lips with impunity. Some had outright called the Queen a monster, an abomination, while others had gone as far as making signs in the air as if warding off evil.

Their venomous reaction troubled Jul profoundly; it sent her probing the fury and pain lodged deep into her chest, wondering where she stood. After everything the Queen’s secret had exposed, she should’ve been out of her mind with rage, too. Her heart however was more interested in grieving what was lost than to seek vengeance for it.

Jul’s entire world had revolved around the Queen and her sister’s safety. She’d devoted time and energy into watching over them, praying for a day when the isolation would be lifted and they would regain their freedom. She’d almost gone as far as putting her life and career on the line to fight for a future without closed doors, only to find out it had all been a hopeless dream. The woman Jul had given up her old life for, was the one putting the kingdom’s future in jeopardy.

It was such a cruel twist of fate that it took all of Jul’s willpower not to crumble in a heap and give in to despair. Could it really be that the woman she had always prided herself on serving was nothing but a magic-wielding monster?

In Jul’s heart the answer was plain and simple. Although she had not witnessed the Queen use her powers firsthand, she refused to believe that they had turned the woman into a soulless weapon of destruction. That couldn’t be the same person her parents had gone to great lengths to protect, the sister that Princess Anna had never given up on, the tough, brave woman Jul had always pictured hiding on the other side of the door.

The townspeople were no doubt mistaken and only speaking out of fear. The fact that they hadn’t run screaming from the castle grounds said as much. Jul saw proof of the Queen’s innocence everywhere. Except for the damage that the entrance had sustained, nobody appeared hurt or wounded by the ice. Furthermore, the direction and layout of the icicles indicated the blast had been aimed at someone coming out of the castle, someone who’d followed her outside presumably. It could be that the Queen had lost control of her powers at the party and fled, or perhaps the other way around.

At this point Jul could do no more than guess what had transpired. The one thing she knew for sure, though, was that the trail of ice ended at the frozen fountain only to reappear on the unguarded doors of the eastern gateway, beyond which a passageway led straight down to the fjord. On their wooden surface, two unmistakable, silvery handprints revealed the Queen’s passage, and confirmed Jul’s worst fear had come true: the Queen had fled the castle.

She’s gone, Jul thought, choking back a cry of despair. Just when the truth had brought her one step closer to the Queen, she’d lost her again. Only this time there wasn’t a door to keep them apart but a thirty-foot wall and miles of land in every direction.

As much as Jul yearned to launch herself in pursuit, she was loath to admit she would never find Her Majesty on her own at night. By now the woman was probably far enough from the castle to make running after her a pointless risk, if not with the help of an organized search party.

If only Jul had been a little quicker to react, a little faster at figuring out what was happening. Instead she’d failed in her duties beyond forgiveness and allowed the Queen to slip through her fingers.

So much for the elite soldier worthy of promotion. Her entire history in the military was a shameful proof of her shortcomings. Looking back, Jul could only see mistakes and the naive, clueless novice who had spent countless nights outside the Queen’s quarters without ever realizing that up in that lonely, frigid corridor the truth had been staring her square in the face.

With an anguished cry, Jul slammed her fists against the fountain rim, cracking the ice underneath and scaring off an elderly couple standing close by. Her hands shook on the frozen stone, not from the cold or the pain but from the anger rushing inside her.

Deep inside she knew that she was partly responsible for how things had turned out. After years spent looking down on her comrades for not understanding, for lacking talent and purpose, she’d been the one who had ultimately fallen short.

Jul didn’t know if she could ever forgive herself for it. Every night that she had wasted, waiting on some kind of miracle to move into action, had only served to prolong the Queen’s suffering. She could hardly imagine what sort of endless torture the past thirteen years must have been for Her Majesty. All alone in her bedroom, isolated from the world, the young woman had lived like a prisoner in her own home and body. When or why her powers had manifested hardly mattered in the face of the collateral damage they had caused. The magical abilities had robbed the Queen of a chance at a normal life. They’d forced her into hiding, forced her to live in fear of herself and of other people’s judgment.  

A shudder slithered down Jul’s spine as she pictured the young Princess from her memories being confined to her bedroom and told to contain her powers. How scared and alone she must have felt. Jul couldn’t fathom how Her Majesty had held herself together in such conditions for as long as she had without falling apart. Perhaps it had been the fear of hurting her loved ones with her powers to keep her going. Regardless, the woman had put her kingdom before her own happiness and shown strength worthy of a true leader.

Too bad her sacrifice had been for nothing. Whatever illusion of normalcy the Queen had managed to create for the guests, it had shattered under pressure, not to mention in the presence of hundreds of royals and dignitaries. Jul feared their reactions more than the citizens’. If any of them thought the Queen was a threat to eliminate, Arendelle was in very serious trouble.

Lost in her own predicaments, Jul almost started when something wet and cold landed on the tip of her nose. She wiped the spot off with a hand that was frozen halfway through and squinted up at the sky. Her lips parted in a gasp of surprise that was cut off by the touch of big, white snowflakes on her eyes and tongue. Jul promptly closed her mouth, blinking the melting ice away from her lashes. She looked up again and sure enough there was snow drifting down on the courtyard from a thick bank of clouds that was gathering overhead.

Scanning the horizon, Jul wondered whether she had underestimated the extent of The Queen’s abilities. In the distance she could see a menacing storm approaching. Blowing in from the north, it advanced with alarming speed, blotting out every inch of starry sky in its path.

The temperature was dropping rapidly as well; frigid winds sighed in the cramped spaces of the castle grounds, picking up speed and force. In spite of her heavy uniform Jul found herself shivering and not just from the cold. A deep-seated sense of unease and uncertainty hung over her. The future ahead was bleak, whichever way she chose to look at it. In its current situation Arendelle was nothing but a leaderless country on the brink of an internal crisis. And if that was not enough, winter was rapidly stealing over the kingdom while the only person who could reverse the spell and save everyone from an impending catastrophe was lost in the wind.

So much was at stake and yet nobody was lifting a finger to fix the situation. The Captain’s absence was by far the most troubling. Jul had expected him to be outside already, shouting commands left and right in order to put a search team together. However there was no sign of him, nor of the soldiers who had been in charge of protecting the Queen. Who was she supposed to turn to for guidance in a moment such as this?

“Look, it’s snowing, it’s snowing! The Queen has cursed this land! She must be stopped! You have to go after her.”

Jul whirled toward the unknown accuser with nostrils flaring, a response ready on her tongue. At the sight of the man however, her comeback wavered and she ultimately held her tongue. The choice was wise in hindsight. The obnoxious voice belonged to a rather short, middle-aged man in an elegant dark blue tailcoat with gold trimmings. He stood on the opposite side of the fountain, in between two buff gentlemen twice his size, dressed in the same colors of his dress uniform. A toupee of slicked-back, silvery grey hair was attached precariously to his scalp; it bounced against the nape of his neck whenever he moved - which was to say constantly, since his every word was punctuated by a sudden over-dramatic gesture.

Jul watched him with open hostility, slipping on her gloves with more force than was necessary. Rather than the four medals pinned to his chest, it was the arrogance and air of self-importance that marked the man out as a guest of higher status. His efforts to gather attention and play the part of the victim would’ve been laughable if only he’d done so without insulting the Queen in the process. Jul knew that the consequences for harming a guest would be dire but she couldn’t stand by and watch him incite the crowd into a witch hunt.

Before she could spring into action, a young woman stepped in her path and closed in on the foreigner. Jul inhaled sharply and came to a dead stop, straightening to attention.

Princess Anna stood before her, looking stunning in a green, floor-length dressing gown and a black bodice that bared every inch of her creamy, freckled shoulders. Her face was troubled and dark with concern as she rounded on the short man who was accusing her sister of black witchcraft.

“Wait, no!” the Princess said firmly.

“You!” cried the foreign guest accusingly, starting at the sight of Princess Anna. He swiftly retreated behind his two companions, using them as a human shield. “Is the sorcery in you, too? Are you a monster, too?”

“No, no…I’m completely ordinary” the Princess responded hesitantly, clearly taken aback by the open accusation.

Jul seethed in silence, wishing she had the authority to intervene and avenge the offense given. It was then that she noticed a young, auburn-haired man dressed like a lord come up behind the Princess and place a protective hand on her shoulder. 

“That’s right, she is” the nobleman chimed in sternly as if daring the older man to say otherwise. Though as soon as he realized the words were everything but flattering, his confidence wavered and he rushed to add in a gentler voice, “In- in the best way.”

Nice save, Jul thought sourly, frowning at the stranger with suspicion. She couldn’t help but wonder who the man was and what gave him the right to take such liberties with Princess Anna. His fancy clothes suggested that he, too, was a foreign guest but offered no clue as to where he was from. Despite the lack of an emblem or symbol on his pristine tailcoat, Jul could still tell the nameless foreigner had the bearing of a minor lord. After being around soldiers of noble upbringing for quite a while she could spot them from miles. The way they held themselves before people, especially those of lower class, was impossible to miss.

Although Jul had every reason to be distrustful of him, so far he’d proved himself a gentleman by defending the Princess’ honor and reputation. For once it was best to wait and see how things played out.

“My-my sister’s not a monster” the Princess retorted with indignation.

“She nearly killed me!” cried the foreign officer in outrage.

“You slipped on ice” the younger nobleman argued.

“Her ice!”  he countered stubbornly, sounding more like a child having a tantrum than a powerful, respectful diplomat.

Jul shifted impatiently. She was quickly starting to regret her decision to wait by the sidelines. Being a guest might grant this man protection but it didn’t give him the right to insult the royal family with impunity.

“It was an accident,” said the Princess, putting an end to the dispute before things could take a turn for the worst. “She was scared. She didn’t mean it; she didn’t mean any of this. Tonight was my fault. I pushed her, so I’m the one that needs to go after her.”

The words sent a stab of alarm through Jul who immediately lurched into motion.

“Your Highness! Please, wait!” she called after the Princess, darting in between the two guests to stop the young woman from doing something rash. When the Princess turned to look at her in surprise, Jul spoke up before she lost her nerve. “There’s a storm coming, Your Highness. It’s too dangerous for you to go out there on your own.”

“That’s right, you can’t” the white-clad nobleman concurred.

Something other than worry crept into his voice. Jul couldn’t quite place what it was but knew it was directed at her. She felt the man’s unwavering gaze on her like a weight on her shoulders. Still she didn’t falter under the scrutiny and kept her eyes fixed on the Princess instead. As a soldier of the Royal Guard it was her duty to protect the members of the royal family from harm. She couldn’t exactly say the same about him, though, a man who’d set foot in Arendelle for barely half a day, expecting to have a say in what the Princess could and could not do.

“Elsa is not dangerous” said Princess Anna with a reassuring smile. “I’ll bring her back and I’ll make this right.”

Jul stifled a groan. Of course the Queen wasn’t dangerous. In over thirteen years her powers had never hurt a soul. What truly scared Jul was the idea of Princess Anna venturing outside the castle by herself at night. If something were to happen to her, the kingdom was doomed for certain. Even if she was indeed to blame for triggering her sister’s powers like she’d said, it fell to the Royal Guard to go in search of the Queen.

Judging from the frown on his face, the nobleman felt the same way about the whole ordeal and told her, “I’m coming with you.”

The Princess took his hand in hers, a gesture that was suspiciously intimate for two people who’d supposedly just met. “I need you here, to take care of Arendelle.”

In that moment Kai, the family’s most trusted servant, appeared with the Princess’ horse in tow and a green, woolen cloak which he wrapped around her slim shoulders.

The nobleman took Princess Anna’s hand between his own and his face grew solemn. “On my honor.”

Appalled as she was by the Princess’ decision to leave the kingdom in the hands of a stranger, Jul had to push her suspicions aside for the moment. If she didn’t at least try to do something before the woman embarked on this suicide mission, she would never forgive herself for it.

“Your Highness, if you must go then let me come with you, please” she begged. At this point she was beyond caring if she was overstepping. “Those mountains are full of dangers at this time of night. What if you get lost or hurt while you search for Her Majesty?”

Princess Anna regarded her with a warm smile of recognition. “Thank you, Julia, but it’s best if I go alone. Elsa has grown quite wary of strangers, I’m afraid.”

The little spark of hope that flared up when the Princess spoke her name, fizzled out abruptly. Jul opened her mouth to argue, then closed it soundlessly. As much as she wanted to believe that she wasn’t a stranger to the Queen, that the odd connection she felt to the woman was real, she couldn’t deny the truth, no matter how much it pained her to do so. She had no choice but to let the Princess go.

“As you wish, Your Highness” Jul said with a small bow, resigned but still determined to be of help in any way she could. Quickly, she pulled off her thick, worn gloves and held them out to the Princess. “Take these, Your Highness. I’m afraid you’ll need them soon. And please be careful.”

Smiling kindly, Princess Anna took the offered gloves and tucked them on at once. The look of poorly veiled disgust on the nobleman’s face went unnoticed as she mounted her horse and addressed the crowd. “I leave Prince Hans in charge.”

The announcement was met with silence, allowing Jul to hear what the foreign prince said next.

“Are you sure you can trust her? I don’t want you getting hurt.”

“She’s my sister. She would never hurt me.”

The unwavering certainty in Princess Anna’s voice left no room for doubt. Prince Hans looked anything but reassured. Nevertheless he let go of the reins and stepped aside as the Princess nudged her white horse into a gallop.

Jul watched her ride through the gates, unable to shake the crushing sense of dread that gripped her as the horse and its rider disappeared from sight. In a handful of minutes both sisters had disappeared into the night without protection, leaving the castle empty and vulnerable. Suddenly Arendelle found itself in quite a tight spot, isolated and unequipped as it was to face the sudden emergency. Assuming the town survived the change of season, anyone with an army at their disposal could sweep in and seize the vacant throne, taking advantage of the kingdom’s weakened state. If Princess Anna failed to find her sister and convince her it was safe to come back, Arendelle would fall and never rise again.

Shivering from a mixture of cold and fatigue, Jul let go of her troubled thoughts and returned to the present. It was freezing inside the grounds and getting colder still if possible. Clearly the weather was deteriorating at a faster pace than she had estimated. The snowstorm had picked up intensity and a thick curtain of white flakes fell without pause on the palace grounds. Jul’s heavy coat was already damp in places and the icy gusts of wind that blew in through the open gates pierced Jul’s uniform as if it was made of paper.

With a shaking hand, Jul moved to pull the visor of her hat lower on her face in order to shield her eyes. When her reddening fingers met with nothing but damp hair she sighed knowingly, figuring she must have lost the dark green hat on her desperate run to the castle. Violating the dress code would get her in trouble but at the moment she was too chilled to go searching for it. Instead she wrapped her arms around herself for added warmth and joined the stream of townspeople returning meekly to their homes.

As soon as Jul approached the gates, threats and insults rained down on her from the battlement. People turned to stare and point but Jul ignored everyone and kept going, letting her comrades’ words fall on deaf ears. Without a doubt, a detailed - not to mention inflated - tale of her insubordination would reach her superiors before the night was over.

As if the Captain doesn’t have bigger problems on his hands right now, Jul thought bitterly. Besides, she wasn’t scared to confront him. She knew he would understand her actions and the reasons behind them. If her comrades went straight to Lieutenant Drost with their complaints however, not even a miracle would save her from paying the price of her reckless behavior.

Outside the castle walls, the wind blew so hard that Jul had to hunch her shoulders in order to keep her balance. She was halfway across the bridge when she caught a glimpse of Nicklas standing in the middle of the road, searching the incoming crowd with a worried frown on his face. As soon as his eyes landed on her, he rushed toward her. In his hands he held her missing hat, stained with dirt and damp but otherwise unblemished. He placed it gently on her head and studied her face for a long moment, betraying only the slightest hint of relief.

They’d known one another for less than a day and yet Jul found herself lowering her guard and allowing her feelings to spill forth.

“She’s gone” Jul whispered at last, her voice cracking. “They’re both gone and there was nothing I could do to stop them.”

Although the words were spoken out of context, Nicklas glanced down at her with genuine sadness and understanding. Jul guessed he already knew what had transpired back at the castle. After all, the fjord itself looked to be in even worse shape. The whole harbor had frozen over like a glacier and every ship moored at the docks or riding at anchor was trapped with no way out.

The bitter irony of the situation wasn’t lost on Jul. After thirteen years of solitary confinement, the Queen had fled the castle and trapped everyone else in the process. Jul doubted the magical winter had been intentional after everything Her Majesty had sacrificed for her kingdom. Still, the town was in grave danger. If the weather didn’t let up, Arendelle would soon be buried in snow, short on supplies, and isolated from its neighboring kingdoms.

Discouraged and exhausted, Jul let Nicklas wrap one long arm around her shoulders. Together they walked back to the docks and returned to their post under the falling snow. Hopefully Colonel Larsen was already on his way with news and instructions from the head of command. Until then Jul’s hands were tied. With a pending insubordination charge on her head, she couldn’t afford to step out of line again. She had to bide her time and keep her head down. The chance to right her wrongs would present itself soon and this time she would not waste it.

Chapter Text

“Thank goodness you’re here. And perfect timing as usual. If this wretched cold did something permanent to my beautiful face, I don’t think I could survive it.”

Jul knelt by the hearth and stirred the dying embers with a poker mottled with rust. It was so cold and heavy that her bare fingers hurt to hold it upright. “I’ll be done here in a minute, my Lord” she assured Prince Eugene without turning. She sure had saved the best for last.

Jul blew on the embers once more. The coals flared red, hissing, and the kindling she’d layered on top finally caught fire with a satisfying crackle. She let out a relieved sigh and splayed her hands out to let the tiny flames warm them. After working an interminable shift without gloves, her fingers were killing her. She’d put in a request for a new pair soon after giving hers to Princess Anna but it had been denied. She knew the Captain had lent some of the Guard’s winter apparel to the guests, but she suspected the sudden shortage had more to do with her comrades trying to get back at her.

Once she had the fire going, Jul reached out for a stack of wood logs she’d set up earlier by the hearth. As she was easing them on the revived embers, a voice spoke from behind her.

“Is there any news of Anna - I mean, Princess Anna?”

Startled, Jul dropped the last of the two logs into the flames. Sparks erupted from the coals underneath and Jul jerked back to avoid getting burned. She looked up then, and nearly fell flat on her backside in surprise.

Princess Rapunzel hovered over her, wrapped up in a long, thick blanket that only left the oval of her face exposed. In the dull glow of the fireplace her big, green eyes shone with intensity despite the dark shadows underneath them.

Jul let out a shaky sigh and stood up, brushing wood shavings from the front of her uniform. How the woman had managed to sneak up on her was beyond her. “None so far, Your Highness.”

Princess Rapunzel’s shoulders slumped at the news and her face clouded. Jul knew she should offer a word of comfort and not just out of duty or courtesy. Unlike the vast majority of the guests she’d met so far, the royals of Corona had welcomed her warmly into their room. They’d been respectful of her role and gender. They’d even dropped formalities as soon as they’d recognized her from their previous meeting at the docks. But most importantly they’d shown genuine concern for the Queen and Princess without feeling entitled to every private detail of their lives.

As much as Jul tried, however, the encouraging words did not come.

“What’s with those faces, mah ladies?” the Prince chided lightly. He walked to the window and drew aside the curtain. A sea of white stretched as far as the eye could see. “Unless Anna’s horse has sprouted wings and learned to spit fire in the last twelve hours, it’s bound to take some time before she makes it back to Arendelle.”

Though wary of his cheery optimism, Jul could not deny that Prince Eugene made a valid point. All main routes into town were blocked as of this morning so Princess Anna might actually be stuck somewhere outside Arendelle. But that would mean the Queen wasn’t with her.

“Your husband is right, Your Highness” Jul said regardless, reluctant to alarm the Princess with more of her worries. “Snow makes for slow travel, especially on horse. We’re working on clearing the main routes as we speak, but I’m afraid it’ll take a while if the weather does not cooperate.”

For a moment the Princess stared out the window with a look of uncertainty, visibly considering their reassurances. The landscape outside was enough to steal hope from the heart of even the most ardent optimist. In fact, Jul hardly glanced outside anymore unless it was to track the passing of time. No need to invite any more dark thoughts and scenarios to take residence in the back of her mind.

“I know that waiting feels like torture right now, Your Highness, but we must be patient and have faith. Princess Anna is quite the resourceful woman. She’ll find her way back home sooner than we think.”

Tears welled up in the Princess’s eyes. Alarmed, Jul went over her words, fearing she’d said something to upset the woman. She looked at Prince Eugene for help and faltered. The man was grinning at her, giving Jul two thumbs up from behind his wife’s back that she didn’t know what to make of.

When Jul dared look back at Princess Rapunzel, though, the tears were gone. A smile lit up her face instead, the same infectious, warm smile that had immediately reminded Jul of Princess Anna.

“Perhaps you’re right, Julia. I fear this ugly weather has gotten under my skin” the Princess admitted. “And, by the way, thank you for bringing us more firewood. I was sure my feet would soon turn blue and fall off” she added, wiggling her toes by the fire with a happy sigh.

From his seat by the window, Prince Eugene let out a scoff that Jul could’ve sworn sounded like ‘shoes’. Princess Rapunzel stuck out her tongue at him and Jul suddenly felt like she was intruding.

“I’m simply doing my job, Your Highness. Prince Hans is the one who’s given us orders to prioritize the guests’ comfort and safety” Jul said with some reluctance.

“How very generous of him!” the Princess beamed.

Jul’s eye twitched. She couldn’t deny that the southern Prince had been quite resourceful in making the guests feel at home. As soon as Princess Anna had galloped away into the night, he’d stepped into power without hesitation. In a matter of hours he’d appeased the rioting guests and avoided a panic among the townspeople who had gathered inside the castle walls demanding answers. Then he had arranged temporary accommodations for the guests as well as for their servants and the crews of their ships. Such work and dedication had won over the Captain and his officials but Jul wasn’t buying it. She hadn’t failed to notice how none of the nobleman’s efforts had gone into searching for Arendelle’s missing royals.

“Yeah, tell that to that nasty tyrant from hell staying down the hall. I swear if sweet old Weasel wakes me up again at the crack of dawn, yelling for ‘a cup of hot black tea that doesn’t taste like burned leaves’, I will shove him and his fake hair into the nearest fire.”

Prince Eugene’s impression of the Duke of Weselton was so accurate that Jul was torn between laughing or paying the dignitary a visit herself.

“Ugh, I hope he choked on that tea. Screaming like a maniac when people – very tired people, I might add – are trying to get some sleep” the Princess fumed.

As the woman readjusted the blanket around her shoulders, Jul spotted something small and green move underneath it, just above her collarbone. She blinked and looked more closely, but by then the blanket had already fallen back into place.

I must be more tired than I thought, Jul noted. Though, admittedly, she was running on no more than three hours of sleep. “If you have no more need of me, Your Highness, I will take my leave now.”

“So soon?”

Jul wavered at the woman’s look of dismay for a moment too long before Prince Eugene cut in and saved her yet again.

“I think Julia has more important things to do right now than staying for a chat, blondie.” He came up behind his wife and wrapped a protective arm around her shoulders. “But I’m right here, and I make pretty decent company, if I do say so myself.”

“That’s exactly why I was hoping she could stay longer” Princess Rapunzel retorted, pursing her lips.

Prince Eugene gasped and put a hand to his heart, stepping away from his wife as if she’d just stabbed him. Princess Rapunzel only acknowledged his theatrics by frowning and rolling her eyes, before turning to Jul with a smile tinged with sadness.

“Please, ignore my words, Julia. I just…we’ve been stuck for hours in this cold guest room without news from the outside world. I was just relieved to see a familiar face, is all. You may go if you wish.”

Uncertainly, Jul bowed and turned to leave. The Princess’ words started sinking in when Jul was almost at the door. She stopped and looked behind her shoulder at the Princess, feeling conflicted. For years she’d been taught that, following a dismissal, a soldier must keep their mouth shut and withdraw. It was risky to do otherwise, yet Jul couldn’t bring herself to leave in such a manner. Princess Rapunzel and her consort deserved better than what little empathy she’d shown towards them so far.

“Duty calls me elsewhere, Your Highness, but I will try my best to return soon with news. And also -” Jul hesitated, afraid she might be overstepping, but the openness on the Princess’ face convinced her to continue. “Thank you…for treating me like a soldier and for your kindness. Whatever you need, I’m at your service.”

Jul bowed low and swiftly left the room and its warmth behind. She didn’t give herself time to wonder if she’d been too forward. Hunching her shoulders against the cold, she set off for the main entrance.

With it being so early in the afternoon, only a handful of maids and servants scurried about, carrying steaming pitchers and trays of food. The castle was silent otherwise. Jul had to strain her ears to hear anything other than her hurried footsteps on the faded carpet. It was almost hard to believe the rooms were full to bursting with foreign guests, if not for the muted sound of their voices, rising and falling behind painted doors.

When at last Jul reached the main entrance, the foyer was no longer empty. A small group of heavily-garbed men huddled by the front doors, talking among themselves in low voices.

Upon recognizing their faces, Jul frowned and slowed her pace. Advisors were not a rare sight at the castle. Over the years she’d often seen them come and go from either the castle or the Captain’s office, just never so many at the same time. Prince Hans must have called for yet another emergency meeting, which meant more problems had arisen.

Jul approached the front doors as quietly as possible so as not to attract attention. At first it seemed like the advisors had barely registered her presence. As soon as she was within earshot, however, the men lowered their voices. Jul only managed to discern the words ‘lost’ and ‘replacement’ before having to walk out the front doors into the blizzard.

Snow and fleet flew into her face instantly, carried by the wind. Still, Jul lingered on the front steps. Her insides had frozen into one solid block of ice. Relying on two words taken out of context was rash but Jul doubted the advisors had been discussing missing furniture at such a time. No, the filthy turncoats were plotting to put Prince Hans on Arendelle’s throne.

Jul could not believe they were actually considering the nobleman as a viable ruler. He knew nothing about Arendelle, about its trades, its alliances, about its customs and traditions, but most importantly about its people. No amount of advising on their part was going to change the fact that the southern Prince was a foreigner - and a shady one at that - with no claim or remote connection to the throne. Handling himself well in a crisis didn’t grant him succession rights any more than his questionable relationship with Princess Anna would.

Shivering, Jul left the portico and ventured into the blizzard. Scattered around the grounds, fellow guardsmen shoveled without respite in a futile attempt to keep the courtyard clean. The snow was coming down too hard and, the longer they kept going, they higher the risk of them contracting frostbite. As if the infirmary didn’t overflow with patients already.

Jul couldn’t fathom why Captain Svendsen insisted on wasting time and resources on these tasks, when finding the Queen was the one and only solution to the problem. Lately his decisions kept disappointing her, worrying her even. Without his trusted leadership, she had no one else to turn to for guidance.

The entrance to the barracks was deserted except for two guards who chatted while standing sentry by the doors.

“Ah, the prodigal daughter returns at last” the taller of the two greeted Jul, his voice shaking with cold under his black scarf.

His shift partner snorted. “And just in time to hear the good news.”

Jul strode past them without acknowledging their presence, much less their laughter. Their comments however filled her chest with apprehension as she hurried to the officers’ headquarters to report back to Colonel Larsen.

Despite her haste, she took the longest route. Ever since Prince Hans had assigned rooms at the barracks for the stranded ship crews, the building teemed with sailors and soldiers at every hour of the day and night. So far the two groups had shared the cramped living space with almost no complaints, but tensions were rising quickly and fermenting the longer the blizzard persisted. It was only a matter of time before something as small as a lingering look shattered the unspoken truce.

Another guard was waiting just outside the officers’ headquarters when Jul arrived. As soon as he saw her, he detached himself from the wall and came towards her.

Jul glanced behind her shoulder to make sure the hallway was empty and let the guard approach her. He was one of the youngest recruits, a boy barely out of his teens.

“My lady – I mean, Carlsson – soldier!” He stumbled over the titles in a rush of panic, then gave up and relayed his message. “Lieutenant Drost wants to see you in the Captain’s office with the utmost urgency.”

His message dropped straight down to Jul’s stomach where it settled like lead. She’d known this moment would come eventually. She even had a speech ready. The problem was that it wasn’t Captain Svendsen she would have to plead her case to, but to the man who had been trying for years to get her kicked out of the Guard. She would be helpless to defend herself before him and be punished for her crimes without appeal.

The young guard cleared his throat, breaking Jul out of her dark reverie. She found him staring at her expectantly as if waiting for a dismissal.

The hint of a frown was enough to send the youngster scampering away in all haste. Jul turned her back on the officer’s meeting room and set off in the opposite direction. Colonel Larsen was not the type to sit around waiting for reports to come in anyway. Besides, ignoring the Lieutenant’s summoning would only prove she was prone to questioning authority. She’d learned from experience that the longer she had the officer wait, the worse it would be to deal with him when all the cards were on the table.

Dozens of Jul’s comrades lurked in close proximity to the Captain’s office, their faces all but glowing with smug satisfaction. Word of her meeting with Drost had spread fast, it seemed, and they didn’t want to miss what they’d worked so hard to achieve.

Jul tuned out the the murmuring crowd and went straight for the door with calm, measured steps. At her sides, her arms were shaking down to her fingertips. She wanted nothing more than to grab the nearest of these back-stabbing bastards and avenge herself but pride held her back. They wouldn’t see it her lose it. Not again. She would find her way out of this before she surrendered her dream to them.

Jul’s fist hesitated before knocking on the Captain’s office door. She only had a moment to steel herself before Drost ordered her to come in.

Jul tried her best to abandon her fears on the threshold. She took a steadying breath and stepped inside the office.

Lieutenant Drost was lounging on the Captain’s leather armchair when Jul entered. The sight of him behind the big oak desk was disturbing, almost revolting. Jul hoped it didn’t show on her face as she walked before the officer and stood at attention. “You called for me, Sir.”

For a moment the office was silent. Jul could tell the Lieutenant was looking at her by the sound of his fingers drumming absentmindedly on the polished wood. It was one of his favorite ploys but one he’d used too many times on her for it to work.

“Carlsson” Drost drawled, “you sure took your sweet time getting here. Then again, it shouldn’t surprise me that much, since you’ve come and gone as you pleased lately. Or so I hear.”

Jul kept her gaze on the painting hanging behind the Captain’s desk without making a sound. She wouldn’t rise to the bait, no matter what the man said or did to insult her.

Lieutenant Drost chuckled as if her silence amused him. “Let’s cut to the chase then, shall we? I’m fairly certain you know why you’re here anyway. Your comrades have been very vocal about what happened last night, and you understand I simply cannot gloss over the incident. Besides, how could I ever let this chance slip through my fingers?”Drost said. Jul could hear the smile in his voice even without seeing it. “I have to say I was not expecting a cold-hearted overachiever such as yourself to completely lose it over a simple exclusion. I would’ve acted sooner had I known you were that desperate to impress your dear Captain.”

His mocking laughter filled the office. It seemed to be buffeting Jul from all sides like a twister.

Jul clenched her teeth, the muscles in her jaw flexing and tightening. A response burned on the tip of her tongue but she bit it back. Drost was no doubt watching her reaction closely. So she channeled all her rage into tight fists and locked them behind her back, away from his prying eyes.

Still chuckling to himself, Lieutenant Drost pushed back his chair and stood up. He rounded the desk and moved to stand in front of it. Jul had to try with all her might not to step back and lean away from him.

“To be perfectly candid with you, Carlsson, I couldn’t care less why you disobeyed my orders. You’re guilty and that’s all that matters to me. Unfortunately for you, I’m not like that poor simpleton you call a Captain. I see right through you, I always have. I’ve known from the moment you had the gall to show up at our doors that you would put shame on this institution. And finally I’ll get everyone to see it, too” the Lieutenant gloated before sitting down on the edge of the desk.

Jul didn’t know how much more of this she could take. Drost sounded like he had barely warmed up.

“So, I suppose a know-it-all like yourself knows what the punishment for insubordination is. Yes, that’s right!” the Lieutenant exclaimed gleefully when Jul’s stony expression cracked at his words. “But as much as I want to lock you up in a prison cell and throw away the key, I can’t let myself get carried away. After all, where is the fun in watching you fall from grace unless I share the moment with everyone else?” Drost mused aloud. “As soon as summer has been restored you will answer for your crimes. Until then you’ll remain on duty. We’re short on men so there’ll be more than enough to keep you busy.”

Jul had started shivering. She no longer knew if it was out of rage or fear but it got worse with every word that came out of the Lieutenant’s mouth.

“In the meantime, for the sake of satisfying your comrades’ need for justice, I have arranged for you an extra shift in town on the morrow. And before you can think of running to the Captain with your pleas, know that I have men watching your every move. I want to be the one to tell him how his favorite pupil betrayed his trust. He’ll have no choice but to strip you of our uniform and rid us of your presence for good.”

The plan was as twisted and sick as the man himself and Jul had heard enough. She took an angry step forward, unable to hold her rage at bay any longer. “I won’t let you get away with this” she seethed, looking the officer dead in the eyes.

Drost laughed again until tears glistened in his eyes. “Oh, but I will, you stupid wretch. And there’s absolutely nothing you can do about it. Your fate is in my hands now.” He stood up and waved a hand in dismissal. “Now get out of my office. Enjoy the last of your freedom.”

The Lieutenant’s response doused the anger bubbling in Jul’s chest with a freezing dose of reality. She stepped back from the desk and from the officer as if the distance would soften his sentence. It didn’t, but the triumphant smirk on Drost’s face saved her from even thinking about giving up. He wanted her to believe she was lost, that he was the sole master of her fate. But he would never own her, not even with a rope tied around her neck and the tip of a sword pointed at her chest. As long as she was free, armed and ready, she would be the one to decide what her future held.

Jul bowed stiffly and hurried out. The crowd of soldiers eavesdropping outside parted before her as if her body was engulfed in flames. They stared as she strode past, their mouths gaping, not even a jest to see her off as was their habit. They had been expecting screams and tears, not a tidal wave of fury, which was proof they really hadn’t learned anything about her.

Once in her bedroom, Jul bolted the door behind her and finally allowed the tension to roll off her shoulders. She didn’t bother fumbling around for a candle on her nightstand, opting instead to edge toward her bed and ease herself tiredly upon the old mattress.

Her whole body ached as if she’d fallen down a flight of stairs. Every movement elicited a chorus of complaints from her muscles all the way down to her numb extremities. Maybe a warm bath might be able to restore some feeling in her hands and feet but hot water - or water in general - had become a luxury granted only to the guests. She might as well resign herself to another night of fitful sleep buried under a pile of clothes and blankets.

Assuming she even managed to fall asleep. The meeting with Drost was too fresh in her mind. His threats still ringed in her ears. Jul knew her body needed rest if she wanted to survive the extra workload Drost had dumped on her, but she also knew that she must come up with a solution to avoid being jailed. Speaking to the Captain right away was the best - if not the only - way to set things right. If it wasn’t for the fact that she’d only seen him once ever since the Queen had fled, she would have done so already. Though, between meetings with Prince Hans and the advisors that lasted hours on end, the incessant briefings with his leading officers, she wondered when that might come to pass.

Jul drew her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. In the darkness of her room it wasn’t hard to picture what her near future would be like. Remove the bed and the furniture and she might as well be there already.

A sudden knock on the door startled Jul enough to send her heart racing. She stood up and found her way to the door to unlock it. She opened it a crack, barely enough to see who was bothering her at such a time, and found Nicklas standing alone on the other side.

His eyes perked up at the sound of the door opening. “Hello, Julia - oh, I’m sorry” Nicklas said, his eyes on the darkened room beyond her. “Were you sleeping?”

Jul peered up at him, wondering why he’d showed up at her door out of the blue. She opened the door another inch so she didn’t have to struggle to see his face. “What are you doing here?”

A flicker of hesitation passed over on Nicklas’s face. Jul thought her bluntness had unsettled him. Instead he dug into his pockets and pulled out a pristine pair of white gloves. “I know a guy who’s in charge of the storage room. The gloves are probably too big for you but at least they’ll keep your hands warm”.

He held the gloves out to her. Jul took them hesitantly, mumbling a thank you that was loaded with guilt. She’d been so wrapped up in her own problems that she’d forgotten all about Nicklas while he’d gotten out of his way to help her instead.

“It’s no big deal” Nick replied.

It was a big deal, however. Spare clothes and accessories had never been so hard to come by and not just for the most despised soldier on the Guard. And as much as Jul appreciated the kind gesture, she didn’t know what to make of it. After they’d gone their separate ways last night, the last thing she’d expected was for Nicklas to reach out to her again, much less remember she needed new gloves.

For once Jul was at a loss for what to do or say. She stood there uneasily, waiting for Nicklas to turn around and leave. Nicklas however checked the corridor, then leaned in closer and said in a low voice, “I’ve just seen Holt march into the dining hall, boasting that he’d gotten the Lieutenant to kick you out of the Guard. Please, tell me he was lying.”

The anguish on his Nicklas’ face stopped Jul short of closing the door in his face, thinking he’d come all the way from the dining hall just to pry.

“Since when does Holt know anything?” Jul pointed out, feeling more than irritated at the thought. “As if Drost would’ve contented himself with charging me so lightly after what I’ve done.”

Nicklas inhaled sharply and Jul realized too late she’d revealed more than she’d wanted.

“What do you mean, Julia?” Nicklas asked, taking another step forward. “He’s not sending you to prison, is he? Oh, no. I knew I shouldn’t have let you run off -”

“Oh please, let’s not pretend you had any say in the matter.” Jul cut him off so abruptly that he flinched. “And stop making such a big deal out of this. I’ll talk to the Captain and he’ll sort this ugly mess out in an instant.”

Nicklas looked appalled. “But what if you’re wrong and the Captain agrees with Drost? You’ll rot in prison for the rest of your life!”

Jul bristled, unwilling to listen to him question the Captain and his morals any longer.

“So be it. If that’s what I get for trying to do my job then I might as well walk in there myself. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to get some rest.”

Without waiting for a response, Jul slammed the door in Nicklas’ face. She pushed the bolt in place and collapsed onto her bed with a frustrated groan.

The covers were frosty and the shivering began anew. As much as Jul wanted to blame it on her freezing bed, she knew there was more to it than that. Nicklas’ worries and wild claims had unsettled her, unfounded they might be. And now she was chilled, wide awake and fuming at herself for doubting the integrity of her Captain.

Huffing, Jul rolled onto her side to free the covers from underneath her. In doing so, she realized she was still clutching the gloves Nicklas had given her in her hand.

In an instant her anger dissipated as guilt took over like a heavy weight that pressed down onto her chest. Jul stretched with a sigh onto her back and opened her eyes into the darkness. She hadn’t been fair to Nicklas, not after what he’d done for her. She’d let herself fall into old patterns too easily instead of giving their friendship a chance like she’d resolved to do.

Maybe it was a sign that she wasn’t capable of committing to anything other than her job. Maybe she should’ve known better than to try.

Either way, it was best she stay away from everyone. With Lieutenant Drost watching her every move, Nicklas would only get caught in the crossfire and he did not deserve to pay for her crimes.

Fumbling in the dark, Jul managed to slip on her new gloves. They were just as Nicklas had said, at least one size too big and as stiff as they were new. But the fur inside was thick and soft, an instant relief for her suffering fingers. Jul kicked off her heavy boots and buried herself deep under a heap of clothes and blankets.

Sleep found her much later in the evening. It was loaded with nightmares of unspeakable horrors; Princess Anna lying bloody and wounded in a forest surrounded by wolves, the Captain locking manacles around Jul’s wrists and laughing while the palace collapsed in on itself under the weight of the snow, a faceless woman with pale blond hair shooting frozen darts at her chest.

Morning almost came as a relief. Jul was the first to show up at the stables, an hour before dawn. Four bleary-eyed stable boys were loading provisions onto the wagons that would take them into town. It looked like Prince Hans had dug deep into the castle’s reserve. There were blankets, heavy garments, firewood, candles and even small rations of food, everything that would help him ingratiate himself with the people of Arendelle.

Jul’s shift-mates turned up minutes before the wagons were full and ready to leave. Yawning and muttering curses at the weather with chattering teeth, they climbed onto the wagon without giving Jul more than a cursory glance or nod. If they found her presence strange or unwelcome, they didn’t let it show.

Dawn was minutes away when they finally set off for the gates. The brightening sky was still heavy with pale, grey clouds that promised another gloomy, winter day. More snow had fallen during the night. Arendelle was almost unrecognizable in the distance - a desolate white landscape that stretched out as far as the eye could see. The streets were deserted, the windows shuttered and the doors half-buried behind piles of snow. Everything was in shades of white and grey, as if the magical winter had bleached the entire valley of color and warmth. Only the clock tower in the center of the village stood out clearly. The hands of its golden clock were encased in ice, frozen in time like the buildings spread out around it.

With some difficulty, the horse-drawn wagons pulled up under an empty market stall in the town square. One by one they all dismounted in a silence that was absolute, almost frightening. Although light filtered through a few of the closed shutters and thin wisps of smoke rose from the chimneys, Arendelle looked and felt abandoned.

Jul didn’t let herself linger among the buried remains of the Coronation feast. She grabbed a shovel from the back of the wagon and set to work.

It took her the better part of the morning to clear the streets of the residential area that had been assigned to her. By then she was frozen through, drained of warmth and energy.

Her arms trembled with fatigue as she hoisted the shovel on an aching shoulder and made her way back to the main square. Once there, she found her shift partners huddled close to the horses for warmth. Trembling, they stood glowering at the few villagers who milled around the square.

Jul didn’t need to ask why. The supplies on the wagons were nearly untouched except for a few missing logs and blankets, which meant their work wasn’t finished yet.

“We have to go door to door” Jul told them earnestly after throwing her shovel back onto the nearest wagon.

She might as well have insulted their families seeing how their angry eyes fastened on her.

“The hell we do!” argued the oldest of the group. One of his eye was missing and it made his glare even more pronounced. “Let the folks handle it, I say.”

“That’s right, Torsten. We’re nobody’s servants” said the man on Torsten’s left, looking Jul up and down. “But by all means, Carlsson, knock yourself out. You haven’t got much left to lose, or so I hear.”

Some of the soldiers grunted in approval. Some laughed.

Jul balled her fists hard enough to feel her newly-acquired blisters flare with pain. She was half inclined to give Drost another reason to imprison her when another man piped up.

“Quit running your mouth and look around, Reiner.”

The voice belonged to a soldier returning from the docks, shovel in hand. When he lowered the black scarf wrapped around his neck and mouth, Jul recognized him from his salt-and-pepper beard. He was one of Nicklas’ close friends. “The lass makes a good point. If we don’t split up and deliver this ourselves, we’ll be stuck here all day waiting until our feet fall of. But if you’d rather go back and explain to our beloved and magnanimous Lieutenant why you didn’t do what he asked, knock yourselves out.”

The mere mention of Lieutenant Drost did the trick. The smile on Erik’s face vanished while murmurs of agreement rose from the group.

Jul nodded a thank you to Nicklas’ friend, though inside she was seething. If anyone had bothered to listen to her for once, they might be halfway done with their tasks already.

After dividing the rations into eight equal parts, they split up to deliver the goods. As tiring as the task turned out to be, Jul found that interacting with the citizens made it quite more bearable. Aside from having a few doors slammed in her face while making deliveries, the experience was beyond rewarding. The grateful smiles of the elderly and the excitement of the children who gaped at her in uniform, showed Jul everything that Arendelle could’ve been if the Queen had stayed. It made her even more determined to defy Drost’s schemes.

It was barely after noon when Jul finished her last round of deliveries. The sky was still overcast. The sun was but a halo of light hidden behind thick, black clouds. Down by the docks children played in the snow while their parents looked on distractedly, their eyes drifting up to the sky.

At the far end of the square Jul noticed three men approaching on foot, each of them carrying a stack of clothes in their arms. Much to her surprise, Prince Hans was in the lead and two of her comrades followed closely.

Jul stopped to study the nobleman from afar. The Prince handed a cloak from his stack to an old woman who’d timidly walked up to him. Jul couldn’t hear their conversation but the concern on his face appeared as genuine as his kind smile.

When he announced that the castle was open and offering hot food, Jul was impressed in spite of her reservations. It was really no wonder that both the castle staff and the townspeople saw him as a savior and benefactor. Everything he’d done so far had been honoring Anna’s wishes by treating Arendelle as his own.

Under the guidance of many and ever-present advisors, the Prince hadn’t made a single misstep. Not yet at least. Which Jul guessed was enough to give him the benefit of the doubt.

Her focus on the nobleman was such that she started upon hearing the Duke of Weselton shout at the Prince. The tiny, venomous dignitary emerged from a narrow alley with his two henchmen in tow and marched up to the Prince.

“Prince Hans! Are we expected to just sit here and freeze while you give away all of Arendelle’s tradable goods?” the Duke spat. He was shivering in his elegant dress uniform and doing everything to exhibit his discomfort.

Though startled, Prince Hans recovered quickly. A look of mild irritation crossed his face, the kind that warned he had no desire to put up with yet another round of complaints. “Princess Anna has given her orders –”

“And that’s another thing!” howled the dignitary, gesticulating wildly. “Has it dawned on you that your Princess may be conspiring with the wicked sorceress to destroy us all?”

Prince Hans’ expression hardened at the insult. Jul commanded his self-control. If she’d been that close to him, she’d already have her hands around the dignitary’s neck, daring him to speak another word against the Royals.

“Do not question the Princess. She left me in charge and I will not hesitate to protect Arendelle from treason!”

The Prince drew himself up to his full height, his gaze cold and challenging.

The Duke shrunk back. “T-Treason?”

Jul only had a moment to register the unease she felt at the nobleman’s veiled threat.

From the archway behind her came the frantic, high-pitched neigh of a horse. Tension rippled instantly through the crowd. Conversations and arguments stilled, the children stopped playing in the snow. Everyone seemed to be holding their breath.

Then came the clatter of hooves on the frozen pavement and finally a white, riderless stallion barreled through the southern archway at a wild gallop. Nostrils flaring, it veered left and right until it found a soldier blocking its path. With terror in its eyes, the horse reared back and whinnied loud enough to rouse the whole fjord.

The bloodcurdling sound went right through Jul, her heart sinking in recognition. It was Snowflake, Princess Anna’s stallion.

Prince Hans was the first to react by stepping in front of the horse with his hands raised. “Whoa, whoa! Slow, boy…easy, easy” he cooed.

With slow and tentative steps, the Prince closed in on Snowflake and grabbed its swinging reins. The horse surrendered easily under his careful touch while a small crowd of townspeople gathered around them. Most had recognized whom the horse belonged to but their reactions were muted, soundless. Not a tear shed nor a wail of despair. Only resignation furrowed their brows. They were mourning the Princess as if she’d already left them.

It was a sobering sight like no other. Jul banished the fear that had snaked around her legs and rooted her in place. Snowflake’s return meant nothing, only that Princess Anna was stranded on the mountains and in great need of help.

In a few quick strides Jul had pushed past the ring of onlookers to find found Prince Hans deep in thought. His eyes were fixed on the northern mountains, his expression hard and unreadable. Then, without the least hint of emotion in his voice, he addressed the assembled crowd. “Princess Anna is in trouble. I need volunteers to go with me to find her.”

“I’ll go!” Jul piped up eagerly and Prince Hans turned to her in surprise. “I volunteer, my lord. Please take me with you.”

Jul gave him a small bow to make up for her outburst and held her breath.

The Prince’s green eyes bore into hers and narrowed slightly. Jul’s pulse hammered in her ears as she willed herself not to falter under his scorching stare. Hopefully the nobleman was only remembering their brief encounter on Coronation night. Because if he’d heard anything else about her then she was done for.

Almost every guard present - as well as two courageous villagers - followed Jul’s example. Even the Duke was quick to volunteer his two lackeys. Much too quickly for someone who had shown nothing but complete disdain for the Queen and her sister.

Suspicious, Jul watched the Duke whisper something to his men. She wasn’t close enough to hear but she guessed they must be orders of some kind. And her gut told her it couldn’t be anything good.

Seemingly oblivious to the exchange, Prince Hans began to assemble a search party out of the many volunteers. Jul stood in line with the other soldiers. Her stomach was in knots as the Prince ran an appraising eye over her and the other volunteers. It felt like she’d been standing there forever when he finally spoke.

“I trust you’re all aware of the dangers of this mission” Prince Hans began. He was testing their resolve and his eyes lingered on Jul the longest, probing, challenging her. Jul stared back impassively until the Prince cleared his throat and continued. “Very well. In that case we should all prepare for the journey. We’ll need-”

“Going somewhere, Your Highness?”

Upon hearing that voice, Jul stiffened like she’d been hit in the back. She looked over her shoulder and found the sound wasn’t just a remnant of her recent nightmares. Lieutenant Drost was indeed approaching from the castle, wrapped in a black woolen cloak that didn’t reach past his shins. With his longish nose and lanky legs, he looked like a raven about to take flight and land on its prey.

The Prince went to meet the officer with Snowflake in tow. “Perfect timing, Lieutenant. As you can see, the Princess is in dire need of help and I must leave at once. Can you spare some of your men for the journey?”

Lieutenant Drost’s brow creased. He swept his gaze over the line of volunteers like Jul had seen him do countless times. His sharp, calculating eyes took in their cold-reddened faces one by one. Jul had nowhere to hide. She could only stand there and watch her hopes vanish into her superior’s delighted smile when he eventually spotted her.

“If I may, my lord, you need my best soldiers for such a treacherous mission. These men are tired, frozen and, to be frank, unfit for the job. Most of all Carlsson, over there” Drost said, pointing at Jul like he might at a heap of horse manure. “That woman is a danger to herself and to everyone around her. Don’t let that face fool you. She already has a mutiny charge under her belt, who knows what else she’s capable of.”

Blood rushed to Jul’s head. It pounded so hard in her ears that it was hard to think. A part of her knew Drost was trying to get her riled up on purpose so she could prove him right. Another itched to free her sword from the scabbard and avenge this public shaming and all the ones before it. Then she saw children watching and many villagers who by now thought she was a demon in uniform, and pride stayed her hand.

“As you wish, Lieutenant. I trust your judgment” Prince Hans replied and Jul could’ve sworn he almost looked relieved.

Drost inclined his head. “Very well, my lord. I’ll have my men be ready to depart within the hour.” He looked at Jul then. His upper lip curled up into a sneer. “Carlsson, make yourself useful for once and take that horse back to the stables. When you’re done, go to the kitchens and fetch provisions for my men. That’s simple enough for you, right? Go, and be quick about it.”

Jul shot him a look of raw hatred, tasting blood in her mouth from a cut on her dry lips. Her lungs ached as if they couldn’t get enough air in, yet she didn’t dare breathe until after she’d taken Snowflake’s reins from Prince Hans. Nothing she could say would get her back on the mission but she was still in time to salvage some of her dignity.

They hadn’t made it more than a few feet before Drost’s voice called out. “No stops and detours on the way, Carlsson. You’re done interpreting orders as you please.”

If Snowflake hadn’t been so tired already, Jul would’ve jumped on his back and shown Drost exactly where he could shove his orders. As it was, she contended herself with ignoring him and leaving the square behind her.

Snowflake nickered softly and nuzzled Jul’s side as if he realized where she was taking him. Jul smiled at him sadly and brushed away a light coating of frozen sweat on his mane. If only he could tell her what had happened to the Princess and lead her there. Instead, she had to wait for a crew of shady foreigners and imbeciles to scale a mountain, find the two missing women and bring them back alive. Honestly, it was like the Lieutenant was setting his own men up to fail.

By the time they reached the gate, Jul’s mind was already swirling with escape plans that bordered on suicidal, the kind that would make Nicklas feel faint.

The thought gave Jul pause instead of amusing her. She could almost hear his voice, listing off reason after reason why she was better off bowing to the Lieutenant’s orders. And the worst part was knowing that Nicklas was right. At this point she would only be choosing whether to die by the sword or at the bottom of a ravine. Staying put, on the other hand, would mean wasting away in a prison cell.

Whatever Jul chose, death awaited her. It was only a matter of deciding when and how to meet it. One thing Jul knew for certain, though: she would make it count.

Chapter Text

For the second evening in a row, the dining hall was packed to bursting. Its scarred, stained tables had been rearranged to accommodate a bigger crowd, yet there wasn’t a single seat in sight. Each of the long, wooden benches was packed and groaned under the crushing weight.

Inside, the stink of smoke and body odor had gotten worse, if possible. At least for tonight, the massive chandelier hanging above the room had been lit. Its two dozen tapers provided enough light to eat by, bathing the hall in a warm glow.

Underneath its iron branches, spots of bright colors and strange designs stood out in a sea of familiar black and green uniforms.

At long last, the stories veterans often shared by the fire over a cup of cheap mead were coming true; stories of crowded tables, of people laughing and chatting over a hot meal or a game of cards by the fire, reveling in the sort of easy camaraderie that made fellow soldiers feel like brothers.

Indeed, they’d had it all for a few hours on Coronation Day, under the shade of the stalls in the town square. Looking around the cramped hall now, however, the joy of those moments was nothing but a long forgotten memory.

Guests and royal guards took their meals on opposite sides of the dining hall in a tense silence broken every now and then by a sneeze or the clinking of a spoon. Few bothered to engage in conversation, preferring to stare glumly at the meager contents of their bowls. Otherwise, everyone spoke quietly, their hushed whispers often accompanied by an angry gesture or a glare directed at the other side of the room.

It was only a matter of time before things took a turn for the worse. With the barracks at full capacity, both groups were forced to share living and sleeping quarters. Tensions were rising, thick as the cloying smell of unwashed bodies and cheap spirits. Quarrels broke out over the smallest of things, and high officers were never around to intervene.

Ever since Captain Svendsen had left Lieutenant Drost in charge of the troops to assist Prince Hans, the chain of command had started coming undone. Nobody knew who to turn to for answers. The only thing Drost was good for, was devising more exhausting shifts for everyone but his protégées. In his arrogance, he didn’t realize that he only created more resentment among those who always had to pick up the slack.

Thanks to his leadership, the feud was reignited. Nobody was willing to put differences aside any longer, even in the face of a catastrophe. If anything, the Great Freeze was bringing out the worst in everyone, with the younger recruits taking the brunt of it.

At least, the worst of the noble clique had left on Prince Hans’ mission late that morning. Although the barracks were always a better place without them, almost no one hoped they stayed away too long this time. Despite how most of the guards felt about them, it was in the kingdom’s best interest that their mission prove successful. Life at the barracks would be a living nightmare upon their return, but at least no lives would be lost to the cold.

A sudden draft blew through the entrance and a torch sputtered out to the dismay of those dining underneath its light.

Coughing, Nicklas fanned smoke out of his face and set foot inside the dining hall. He began weaving between tables, careful not to step on anyone’s feet. He’d made that mistake last night and the throaty curses of a drunken sailor haunted him still.

He hadn’t gone far before two sets of hands waved at him from a corner at the back of the room.

Three tired, gaunt faces briefly looked up from their dinner at his arrival. Nicklas acknowledged everyone with a nod and sat down on the edge of the bench.

“Where have you been, brother?” Haldor said, nudging him none too gently. “Morten was already halfway through your eulogy.”

Morten huffed indignantly and pushed a bowl of thin, brown liquid toward Nicklas. “You jest, big guy, but it’s a miracle everyone’s still alive in this weather. Frostbite, a nasty fall, an outbreak of fever - and that’s just to name a few.”

Nicklas wrapped stiff hands around the tepid bowl. “Sorry I made you worry, guys. I lost track of time.” He didn’t say doing what. He had no desire to tell them he’d spent the past two minutes knocking on Julia’s door, hoping to coax her out of her broom closet for dinner, only to find she wasn’t there. “Thank you for saving me a seat and some food.”

Across the table, Alvis scratched at his salt and pepper beard, his expression closed. “If we don’t look out for each other, who will?”

The hint of accusation in his friend’s voice rang loud and clear. Nicklas pretended to miss the cue, and tried to focus on his dinner instead.

He downed a gulp of lukewarm soup and forced himself not to gag as the revolting taste of onions filled his mouth. Sadly, this wasn’t the time to pass on warm food. Nicklas hoped Julia hadn’t either. Maybe she’d chosen to take her meal elsewhere because of her latest brush with Drost that morning. Word of her public humiliation had spread like wildfire at the barracks. From what he’d heard, the Lieutenant had found an excuse to punish Julia, and made a vile spectacle out of it with yet another attack on her dignity.

Truth be told, Nicklas was relieved that Julia wasn’t out there risking her life on some ill-advised plan of hers, and even more so that Drost hadn’t put her behind bars. Not yet, anyway.

Nicklas was determined to keep that from happening, though. His every spare moment was spent searching for Captain Svendsen, in hopes of convincing him that Julia had only disobeyed direct orders because she’d thought the Queen was in danger. The problem was, he hadn’t had any luck tracking down the Captain, not since the officer had stepped in as regent in Prince’s Hans’ absence.

Maybe Alvis was right. He should admit defeat and move on. Julia had made it very clear that his help wasn’t welcome. He had plenty of reasons to part ways, too, yet he couldn’t bring himself to turn his back on her. He didn’t care that his friends snickered through their beards and told him he was too softhearted, that Julia did not deserve his help. To them, she was nothing but a hostile, withdrawn lunatic who took herself way too seriously.

But Julia was more than clenched fists and cutting words. Nicklas had seen it firsthand at the docks, and not for the first time either. As a young recruit, he’d been more worried about surviving than befriending a scary, older girl. Now fate was finally giving him a chance to return an old favor.

“Found something interesting in your soup, brother?”

Nicklas blinked twice and looked up. Four pairs of eyes were fixed on him in a way that made him want to finish his meal at the Weaseltown table. “I hate onions. That’s all.”

“Well, I don’t think that slop will turn into sodd even if you frown at it all night” Haldor said with barely suppressed laughter.

“Wouldn’t that be great, though? There’s way too many mouths to feed in here” Morten chimed in, then proceeded to scan the room as if to estimate when exactly they’d go hungry.

Nicklas took another grudging spoonful of soup. He didn’t want to acknowledge Morten’s fears, but his friend might actually have a point this time. Even if the castle cellars were big enough to provide food in case of a siege, there were twice as many people to feed inside the walls now. Guards and servants could be made to live on leftovers, but the guests would never take such slight. If the kitchens failed to ration what was left of-

The kitchens! That’s where Julia might be hiding.

Excitement warmed Nicklas faster than the soup. Now he knew where to look. If Julia had been there at all, the kitchen maids would know.

“You really ought to stop thinking about that girl. She is nothing but bad news.”

Nicklas stiffened, inwardly berating himself for being so transparent. He’d always treasured Alvis’ advice, but lately his friend’s every remark had them arguing like children.

“They’re going to lock her up” Nicklas reminded Alvis, and not for the first time, “unjustly, if I might add.”

Morten huffed. “When’s this place ever been just?”

Alvis ignored him. “That girl is trouble, Nick. I’ve seen so many others like her in my days. They come here thinking they can change the world, but by the time they realize it’s a lost cause, they’re already on their way to the gallows. Trust me, you’re better off without her.”

Haldor made a noise of agreement. “Old Al is right. You don’t mess with crazy chicks.” He ran a critical eye over Nicklas. “Maybe it’s time we worked on your…social skills.”

“That’s right, Hal. The lad has such poor taste” Morten agreed.

Nicklas pressed his fingertips against his bowl then slowly pushed it away, his appetite gone. “Enough! Julia is not only an amazing guard, but also a good person. And she happens to be my friend, regardless of your constant insinuations. You will not speak of her like this again.”

Other than drawing angry glares from nearby tables, Nicklas’ outburst was met with a stunned silence. Nicklas cringed, feeling his face warm. The words had come pouring out of him before he could stop them.

Alvis set his empty bowl aside. He gave Nicklas a long, measuring look. “Even if you’re right - and that’s a big if - there’s nothing you can do to help her. Drost won’t let anyone interfere with his revenge plans, and trying is madness.”

“Alvis is right” Haldor said. “The sick bastard won’t stop until your lady’s in a casket. Not even the Captain himself can save her this time.”

“He might if he heard what happened” Nicklas countered. “If only I could get a few minutes of his time...”

Alvis’ bushy eyebrows shot up to his hairline. He scoffed. “Then all that’s left for you to do is plead your case with the Queen.”

Morten snorted. “And while you’re at it, ask her to bring back summer. Assuming, you know, we’re still alive by the time the witch comes back.”

“I’m really hoping it’s tonight, brother. I’ve got sentry duty by the gates and there’s a good chance it’ll start snowing again.” Haldor tore at a stale piece of bread and continued as he chewed. “Let’s hope that Prince is as good at finding people as he is with words. I don’t fancy losing a hand or foot over this.”

Nicklas perked up. An idea began to form in his mind, one that would probably earn him even more disapproval. “Who’s standing guard with you tonight?”

Haldor made a face. “Peter, if the cold hasn’t killed him. He’s gonna sneeze and cough all through the night.”

Nicklas nodded, more to himself than Haldor, who arched an eyebrow. “Why do you ask?”

Nicklas grabbed a wizened apple sitting uneaten on the table and stood up. “Because I’m taking your shift tonight. Find Peter, and tell him he has the night off to rest.”

“What? Why?” Haldor sputtered.

Alvis sprang to his feet, his face tight with understanding. “Don’t do anything stupid, Nick. She’s not worth it.”

But Nicklas was already marching towards the exit and away from Alvis’ warnings. Yes, Julia might be dangerous, but only to herself. If he could guide her somehow in making less impulsive decisions, then maybe they could both keep their heads above the ice.

There was something about shoveling horse manure that helped put things into perspective. Jul had always thought her brother crazy for believing such a thing, until the day she’d joined the Royal Guard. She’d been so desperate to escape her new comrades, that she’d sought refuge in the royal stables. When Dag, the stable master, had found her hiding in one of the stalls, he’d simply put a shovel in her hand and told her she could stay, as long as she lent a hand.

Ever since then, the stables had been her secret hideout during hard times. After Drost had forced her to watch Prince Hans and his blue-blood escorts depart for the North Mountain - just to make sure she didn’t try anything funny – there was nowhere better to lie low and regroup.

The stables buzzed with activity like they hadn’t in a long while. Stable hands with haggard faces hurried to and fro with buckets and pitchforks, squabbling over who had cleaning duties. The stalls were filled to capacity with stallions and mares from every corner of the world, breeds that Jul had only ever seen in her brother’s books. Their glossy, colorful muzzles emerged from the stalls as she walked past, nickering for her attention.

Jul found Dag fixing a leak in the ceiling, his motions sluggish. She had never seen him so tired and stressed before, except maybe for that one unfortunate incident with the Queens’ horse.

When Dag saw her, relief lit up his face, only to vanish a moment later. Frowning, Dag took another look at her, shook his head, then pointed her to the far end of the corridor before returning to his task.

Jul rolled her eyes. “It wasn’t my fault this time, just so you know.” She strode past him, but not before she caught the ghost of a grin on his lips.

When Jul had done her fair share of cleaning stalls and filling mangers, she went back to see Snowflake. Dag had already checked Princess Anna’s stallion for any sign of injury and found nothing but a few scratches. Indeed, Snowflake seemed fine other than being unusually skittish and in dire need of a good grooming.

Jul rolled up her shirt sleeves and picked up a brush. Gently, she began working her way down Snowflake’s flank. The stallion gave a soft nicker, making Jul wish he could speak instead, tell her what had made him run back home. Even if he’d escaped unscathed from a pack of wolves, Princess Anna was still out there, alone and unarmed.

I should’ve given her my sword, not my stupid gloves, Jul berated herself for the millionth time. After all she’d been the one to teach Princess Anna the basics of sword fighting, before the King had found out about their secret meetings. The Princess’ hand-eye coordination was terrible, but she made up for it in sheer energy. Regardless of her skills, a weapon could’ve kept her safe long enough for help to arrive.

While Jul cursed and mentally kicked herself, a knock came at the door.

Jul sighed and glared toward the intruder. Irritation morphed quickly into surprise, then wariness. Standing awkwardly - if not a little apprehensively - at the door, was Nicklas.

Unprompted, her comrade took a cautious step inside the stall. The relief in his stance was obvious. “Thank goodness you’re here. I was afraid you’d found a way to go after them.”

Jul gave Nicklas a pointed glare. “Thanks for thinking I’m an idiot.” She shook her head and resumed brushing. “What are you doing here?”

Without missing a beat, Nicklas held out one of the two steaming bowls of soup balanced precariously on his hands. “I didn’t see you at dinner so I came looking for you. I figured, after what happened, you’d rather skip a meal than have to deal with, you know...people.”

Technically, he was people, too, but Jul didn’t have the heart to shoo him out. He’d gone to too much trouble for her to spit on his kindness once again, not when she had done nothing to deserve it.

Mumbling a thank you, Jul ditched the brush for the bowl. She settled down on a small stool that Dag used for cleaning hooves whenever his bad leg acted up.

Nicklas made to join her, then seemed to think better of it as soon as Snowflake raised his head to look at him. Slowly, he backed away. He didn’t even bother to sit. He leaned back against the wall, standing so close to the door he might as well eat his dinner outside.

Jul pretended not to notice his reaction and asked, “How did you-“

“Find you?” Nicklas supplied, wiping his mouth on the sleeve of his coat. “Cook Magnus told me you’d be here. As soon as I mentioned your name, he pretty much shoved these bowls into my hands and sent me after you. Such a nice guy. I didn’t know you were friends with him.”

“Not for long” Jul muttered under her breath. She should’ve known from the taste of the soup alone that Magnus was the culprit. She only wished her friend’s mouth wasn’t as big as his love for food, especially when strangers came by looking for her.

They ate dinner in a delicate but comfortable silence. It wasn’t long, though, before the sound of crunching straw alerted Jul that Snowflake was on the hunt for cuddles from the tall stranger.

“Don’t worry” Jul said, fighting back a smile as Nicklas flattened himself against the wall. “He doesn’t bite unless he smells food.”

Nicklas went ashen. Hands shaking, he dug out a withered apple from his coat and threw it across the stall.

With a dull thud, the apple hit the back wall and rolled to a stop at Jul’s feet. Jul stared at the dented fruit, torn between wanting to laugh and taking pity on her terrified comrade. In the end, she picked up the apple and clicked her tongue to get Snowflake’s attention.

“Come here, you big oaf. Stop upsetting our guest.”

Color returned to Nicklas’ face only when Snowflake was a safe distance away, munching on his treat. Jul didn’t press him for an explanation. Nicklas’ fear of horses might be unusual, but she found it even stranger that he’d stayed in spite of it. Unlike her, Nicklas had friends to hang out with on such a cold night, instead of drinking soup in a dirty, stinking stall with questionable company.

“Listen,” Nicklas said minutes later, setting aside his empty bowl, “I know you’ve had a long and messed up day. In fact, you should probably get some rest. But in case you’re up for it, I need a partner for my shift tonight. I’m on sentry duty at the front gates.”

Jul perked up at that. If the weather held, the chances of the Prince’s party returning during the night or early next morning were high. Better still, she could take the shift and Drost would be none the wiser until the morrow.

The offer was tempting, enough to make Jul suspicious. She stared at Nicklas long and hard. “Are you going to tell me why the shift isn’t covered or why you’re asking me of all people? Besides, when Drost finds out about this – and he will – you’ll get caught in the crossfire.”

“I know, I know. But I figured you’d rather face a blizzard tonight than lie awake in bed, plotting heaven knows what” Nicklas replied, scratching at the stubble on his chin. “And, by the way, the shift was covered – by a friend of mine. He was complaining about it at dinner, so I thought I’d do both of you a favor by covering for him.”

Jul cringed inwardly. She always did this; question Nicklas’ motives as if he was actually capable of having a personal agenda.

“So?” Nicklas asked, sounding far less confident than he had before. “Are you up for it?”

Jul downed the last of her soup and eased the bowl down. She glanced up at Nicklas. His young, honest face stared back at her with the same unwavering patience she’d come to expect from him. Jul knew he was better off without her, but not tonight. Even if she turned him down to keep him safe from Drost’s wrath, he would still cover that shift, and risk his wellbeing because of her.

Ultimately, Jul sighed and nodded. “Of course I’m up for it. How soon do we start?”

The corners of Nicklas’ mouth curled up in a smile. “Shortly after midnight. You should rest before then.”

“Yeah, you and me both.” They both had dark circles under her eyes, born of too much work and not enough sleep. If they didn’t slow down, they’d be the next two victims of Drost’s insane shift schedule.

Nicklas pushed himself away from the wall and buttoned his coat. “Get some sleep while you can. I’ll be back when it’s time to go.”

“What are you, my butler? Get back in here” Jul called after him, rolling her eyes at his retreating back. “We don’t have the whole night. You might as well close the hatch and get comfortable.”

Nicklas turned back. His brow furrowed. His eyes flicked to the horse then back to Jul, as if he was weighing the least dangerous option. “Are- are you sure? I mean, we shouldn’t -”

“Shouldn’t what?” Jul asked, her eyebrows raised in challenge. Nicklas started to speak but Jul shut him up with a sharp look. “Save your chivalry. I’m not a helpless maiden. If you’d rather share a freezing room with dozens of snoring men who haven’t showered in days, I’m not stopping you.”

Nicklas took off his hat and started fiddling with its brim. “People will talk if I stay.”

Jul let out a humorless laugh. “If we keep spending time together, people will talk anyway, and twist the truth however they like. Worrying about it is just a waste of time and energy.”

Judging by his frown, however, Nicklas did worry that rumors about them would go around. He studied the open doorway a moment longer but eventually his broad shoulders sagged and he closed the hatch.

The stall grew dark and quiet enough for a decent rest. Jul stood up and retrieved Snowflake’s crocus-patterned horse blanket hanging from a peg on the wall. Soon she had the horse lie down next to her on the dirty floor. As she draped the blanket over them both, she noticed Nicklas was still hovering by the doorway as if he’d somehow forgotten that humans could not sleep on their feet.

“Lie down and don’t worry about Snowflake. He’s too exhausted to do anything but sleep right now.”

After muttering something that sounded suspiciously like a prayer, Nicklas made himself a pillow out of hay and settled down with his back to the wall.

Within moments Snowflake was asleep. Eyes closed, Jul listened to the soft sound of his snoring, so comforting and familiar. She was reminded of home, of winter nights spent playing with her brother inside their barn; old, happy memories, the kind that lately had been keeping her up at night, worrying over what had become of her family and her village.

Jul exhaled slowly. She opened heavy eyelids and cast a glance at the long figure huddled by the door. Nicklas didn’t have her brother’s long hair, his muscular build, nor his endless stash of smiles and jokes, but his presence made Jul feel strangely grounded, despite her reluctance to trust him.

He’s a weakness, a voice inside Jul warned, and not for the first time.

True as that may be, Jul was too tired to reclaim her boundaries. Thanks to Nicklas she’d had a warm dinner and an opportunity to be on the front lines. At this point, her wariness would only come off as ungratefulness.

“Thank you, Nicklas” Jul murmured. The words didn’t come easily, even if she meant them. “If I get through this alive, I’ll find a way to repay you.”

Hay crunched as Nicklas picked up his head off his makeshift pillow. Shadows danced on his face, making his expression hard to read.

“Stay alive and I’ll call us even” Nicklas replied, as if he wasn’t asking the one thing she couldn’t promise him. He shifted onto his back and lowered his hat onto his face.

Jul scoffed and closed her eyes to find her way back to sleep but Nicklas spoke again, his voice tentative. “It’s probably not what you meant, but you can start by calling me Nick. All my friends do.”

The request was all but harmless. Obviously Nicklas already thought of her as a friend, despite the fact that Jul had spent the last two days avoiding him, mostly for his too-friendly behavior.

Jul couldn’t in good conscience grant his wish. But then again, they already were on a first name basis. One tiny syllable wouldn’t change their dynamic, or what they were to each other.

“I’ll see what I can do, Nick. Good night” Jul sighed.

Nicklas chuckled. “Good night, Julia.”

Sleep took Jul soon after. The next thing she knew, Nicklas was rousing her by poking her boots with the butt end of a rake.

Growling at him to stop, Jul heaved herself to her feet. She’d slept restfully for once, though her body ached as if it had taken a beating. Nicklas, on the other hand, looked like he hadn’t slept in weeks. His blood-shot eyes were half open, yet he waited without complaint while Jul bribed Snowflake with sugar so he wouldn’t follow them.

They brushed hay and wood chips out of their wrinkled uniforms, and made their way outside. Jul began shuddering in her heavy coat as soon as they crossed over the threshold. The courtyard was a frightening sight. Between them and the front gates lay a field of fresh, untouched snow at least two feet high. Above their heads, the sky was still overcast – a sea of grey, tinged with hues of pink and white that promised nothing good. The worst danger, though, was a vicious gale that blew in from the fjord. Lanterns and torches swayed in their alcoves along the battlement, casting dark, moving shadows that gave the castle grounds a haunted look.

One minute out in the open, and Jul was already missing the warmth of the stables. She watched Nicklas out of the corner of her eye. He would never admit it, but he was in no shape to face an entire shift in this weather.

“Are you sure you are up for this?” They were still in time for a last-minute change if they hurried.

Nicklas hummed his assent and began trudging through the snow as if the cold was no more than a minor inconvenience.

Jul started after him. Now more than ever she envied his natural resistance to cold. She had survived long and harsh winters in her hometown, just like him, yet she’d give anything for an extra pair of stockings and a thick woolen scarf.

The feeling doubled as they replaced the evening shift; two shuddering guards with frost in their beards, who wordlessly staggered back to the barracks. Jul made an effort to stay moving and keep the blood flowing to her extremities. The battlement above them would keep them dry, but there was no escaping the gale that whistled through the beams and cracks of its wooden structure.

Many of the guardsmen on shift huddled around watch fires that sputtered in big braziers along the perimeter. Acrid smoke rose from the flames, likely the result of burnt scraps instead of proper firewood. It was either that or nothing, though, since the castle’s reserves had almost been depleted to keep the guests warm and placated.

Time passed at a crawl, and tracking it without stars was impossible. It seemed to Jul like days had passed when a handful of kitchen hands brought a hot batch of dark tea to warm-up everyone on shift.

Jul eagerly downed her ration before it turned cold. There was a good chance Magnus was behind this unusual tea break, and she didn’t want to waste a drop.

The welcome rush of heat wore off much too soon. With every passing hour, staying awake required more and more energy. Jul was running on nerves after a while. Nicklas, however, had started dozing off some time after his tea. Every once in a while Jul went over to rouse him, afraid he would freeze to death if he fell asleep. In the stillness of the night she prayed for something - anything - to happen, and make their suffering at least worth something.

The sky was beginning to brighten in the east when Jul heard hurried footsteps and shouts from the guards on the upper floor. She looked up, blinking sleep from her eyes, just as a reddened face leaned over the balustrade to shout, “Open the gates! Prince Hans has returned!”

Despite being numb all over, Jul sprang into action. She shook Nicklas awake, and together they pulled open the first set of double doors. Two more guards rushed past them and, with a creak of hinges, the outer gates opened inward.

A blast of icy wind burst through the open gates, extinguishing every brazier and torch in its path. Jul held onto her hat and blinked ice crystals out of her eyelids. Her grip on the gate’s wooden frame was so tight that the skin around her knuckles cracked inside the gloves. Her blisters burst.

The pain hardly registered. Jul’s heart pounded ever faster. She stood by, quivering with anticipation. Behind her, the grounds had grown quieter. Jul squinted against the biting wind.

After minutes that felt like hours, the sound of hooves and jingling harnesses came through the opening. Jul watched breathless as the riders filed past her in a somber column. The journey had been hard on them. Drost’s men looked haggard and dirtier than Jul had ever seen them. Frost coated their beards and eyebrows. Their ears and noses showed early signs of frostbite. Some sported cuts and bruises, as well as tears in their uniforms.

When Prince Hans rode past her, his face grim, Jul was already on high alert. The feeling of unease intensified as Holt brought up the rear, leading two horses on a leash. Both mounts had a man strapped sideways on their saddle, hands and feet bound with rope. A mixture of frost and snow clung to their clothes and faces, but nothing was easier to recognize than their wide shoulders and ugly sideburns.

Weselton ’s men.

Needles of fear ran down Jul’s spine at the thought of what the Duke’s thugs might have done to earn capture. Again, her eyes flitted from one horse to the other, from one rider to the next, looking for a glimpse of pale hair and a grinning, freckled face. Nothing. Everyone on the party was accounted for, but the Queen and Princess were not among them.

Jul sagged against the gate as if her legs had suddenly turned to air. She felt too numb to scream. Not only had the mission failed like she’d feared it would, but something else had gone terribly wrong up there. Jul saw it in the pale, distraught faces of those who’d made it back, that there was no one left to rescue anymore.

While staring holes into Prince Hans’s back, however, Jul discovered not all hope was lost.

A bundle of coarse grey fabric was tied with cords to the rump of the nobleman’s stallion. She had dismissed it as a heap of spare blankets, but the shape underneath them was undoubtedly human.

The bundle moved while the Prince dismounted. Jul stared entranced at the rhythmic rising and falling of the blankets. A wisp of pale blond hair had escaped from the folds and blew free in the wind.

Jul gulped in frozen air that seared her lungs. She stepped away from the gate, her eyes glued to the body underneath the blankets. If that truly was the Queen, then the woman must be injured. Prince Hans wasn’t dumb enough to risk treason by escorting her back to Arendelle as a prisoner.

“Julia!” Nicklas’ urgent whisper pulled Jul back to reality.

He stood waiting for her by the gates. Both double doors were already closed behind him. His red-rimmed eyes brimmed with concern, pleading with her to drop any foolish idea and get back into position.

Perhaps he was right to advice caution, but Julia needed answers. If the Queen was carried off to her rooms, the truth would be buried once again.

“I need to know what happened” Jul said, giving Nicklas an apologetic yet determined look. “Don’t worry, I’ll be back soon.”

Before Nicklas could speak and make her see reason, Jul slipped into the traffic of guards who had rushed over to aid their beat-up comrades.

Pretending to do the same, she crept closer to Prince Hans’ stallion while his master stood between the two frozen fountains, shouting orders.

“Take Weselton’s men to the dungeons, then inform the Duke I’d like to have a word with him in my study.” The Prince’s voice was hoarse from travel, but it didn’t lack authority as he went on. “Fetch Lieutenant Drost at once. Tell him I have the Queen.”

Before Jul could wonder why the Prince had asked for Drost and not the Captain, the castle’s front doors burst open. Warm light spilled onto the frozen portico. A moment later, Kai and Gerda – the Queen’s most trusted servants – emerged from the doorway. Their nightgowns showed under their coats, but they couldn’t have looked more awake as they hurried down the front steps toward Prince Hans.

“Where are they, Your Highness?” Gerda asked breathlessly, clutching Kai’s arms as if it was her lifeline. “Where are my girls?”

The Prince’s demeanor shifted with appalling swiftness as he turned to face the servants. “My dear Gerda,” he began in a strangled voice. “The Princess-” He hung his head low, as if he couldn’t bring himself to go on, and gestured to the bundle on his horse. “We were only successful in rescuing Queen Elsa.”

Gerda gasped then clamped her hands over her mouth. Kai’s face was whiter than the snow at his feet as he asked “Is she…”

“Oh no, the Queen is very much alive” Prince Hans reassured them, though his face said something else entirely. “Her Majesty took a nasty fall, but she’ll recover soon.”

Color had not yet returned to Kai’s face when he asked “What about Princess Anna?”

“Anna…Anna is still missing. We searched without pause, but snow had already covered her tracks.” After a moment’s hesitation, Prince Hans spoke as though every word pained him. “I can only pray Anna didn’t find her sister before we did.”

Jul shivered at the unspoken implication and so did Kai, who asked, “What do you mean, Your Highness?”

“The Queen was hiding in an ice palace of her own making. When we tried reasoning with her, she sent monsters to attack us and I -” He trailed off, his shoulders sagging, “I fear she might have done the same with Anna.”

Gerda crumbled into Kai’s arms with an anguished wail that sent chills up Jul’s spine. Her racking sobs pierced the quiet, rippling through the troops like shots fired from a rifle.

One by one, guards started taking their hats off, even those who were nowhere near enough to have heard a single word of Prince Hans’ well-crafted story.

That’s all it can be, Jul reasoned. To think that the Queen would willingly lay a hand on her own sister was madness. Jul didn’t expect her comrades to realize they were being lied to, but seeing Kai and Gerda fall prey to the Prince’s machinations made her want to scream.

If the Prince was indeed twisting the truth to serve his own agenda – whatever that might be – Jul needed solid proof to accuse him. Until Prince Hans played the part of Arendelle’s savior and mourning lover, her word would never hold up against his, not without someone in charge to back up her claim.

While the Prince was occupied with consoling the servants, Jul changed both her plans and direction. Pretending to check on the horses, she quickly sidled up to Citron. Prince Hans’ stallion hadn’t moved an inch since his master had dismounted. His head hung low to the ground, vapor rising from its nostrils.

Careful not to spook him, Jul ran a hand down his heaving, steaming flank. His frost-coated side was still warm to the touch, yet she was trembling harder than she had all night. With every step her stomach knotted tighter and tighter. She was hardly breathing when the Queen came into view.

Only the curve of a slim shoulder poked out from under the blanket. Jul followed its outline down to the arch of the woman’s back, then to her middle, where several coils of rope cut into her tiny frame, binding her to Citron so tightly it was a miracle she could breathe.

Jul’s jaw tightened but she willed herself to keep moving before she cut those ropes to ribbons and drew unwanted attention. Any moment now Dag’s stable hands would come for the horses. She had to be quick and make sure the Queen’s injury didn’t need tending, or else the Prince would need a medic, too, and very soon.

Citron twitched his ears but made no sound as Jul crept around him to his other flank. The coarse blankets on his rump flapped in the wind, as well as strands from a loose, blond braid.

As soon as everything stilled, Jul found herself gazing down at the face of a young woman that was equal parts new and familiar. An old memory came back to her. She remembered a warm summer afternoon, watching a blue-eyed princess ride with her family and a host of royal guards through her hometown. The smiling girl Jul recalled had grown into a woman of startling beauty, just like Queen Iduna had once been. Maybe even more so. In the grey light of dawn, her fair skin sparkled like the tiny ice crystals that had caught on her hair and lashes, highlighting her delicate features. 

Jul’s heart gave a hard thump, then began stuttering inside her ribcage as if it had stopped beating for a while. Jul puffed out a sharp breath. She blinked icy mist away from her eyes and hopefully whatever had overtaken her, too.

Her eyes focused back on the Queen. The woman appeared to be unharmed except for an ugly bruise darkening the skin at her left temple. The injury could be the result of a nasty fall, just as the Prince claimed. Yet, it still begged the question of what or who had caused such fall.

“Prince Hans!”

Jul startled like a new recruit caught chatting during morning drills. When she looked up, Captain Svendsen was already rounding the church, sprinting toward the Prince as if the frozen ground was no more treacherous than the carpeted corridor outside his office.

Relief ignited within Jul, then hope. The Captain looked quite unlike himself; hair unkempt, face flushed, his breathing shallow. There were wrinkles in his usually pristine uniform. His eyes were bloodshot, probably from staying up all night studying documents. That must be why he was here, because he’d heard the gates open from his office windows.

“Where is Her Majesty?” the Captain demanded in a voice gravelly with exhaustion.

To his credit, Prince Hans didn’t run for it. He conferred briefly with Kai, who grabbed Gerda by the shoulders and led her back inside.

Only then did the Prince address the Captain. “Queen Elsa is safe, as you can see” he said, pointing in the direction of his stallion.

The Captain’s smoldering gaze passed over Jul as if she wasn’t there. Prince Hans took notice, though. Something flashed across the nobleman’s face and was gone just as quickly, as he rushed to block the Captain’s path to the Queen. “She’s merely unconscious, Captain. We should let her rest. She’ll wake up in a few hours at most.”

If you let her, Jul thought darkly.

Prince Hans launched into a hushed report of his mission, most likely. He spoke too quietly for Jul to make out the words, forcing her to gauge the general mood by studying the Captain’s usually unreadable face.

It turned out to be easier than expected. The Captain looked too frazzled and agitated to keep a lid on his emotions. Red spots were soon darkening his forehead. His lips pressed into a thin line that disappeared under his untrimmed beard. A vein throbbed in his temple. Jul could’ve sworn he was either about to order Weselton’s arrest, or go confront the Duke himself.

As quickly as it’d come, though, the Captain’s rage vanished. Color drained from his neck and face. Wide-eyed, he took an unsteady step back, his head shaking.

It was supposed to be the moment the Captain realized something about the story was off. The moment he ordered the Queen freed and brought to her rooms. Instead, he let Prince Hans approach him and put a comforting hand on his arm.

Jul threw a fleeting glance at the Queen, before placing a trembling hand on the pommel of Citrus’ saddle. When she looked back at the Captain, his eyes were glistening with unshed tears. He seemed as lost as the day he’d found out about the shipwreck. Prince Hans had him in the palm of his hand and Jul was powerless to save him.

Somehow, the worst was yet to come. The wind brought the sound of Drost’s voice, accompanied by a persistent rattle of metal. Instinctively, Jul crouched beside Citron. She couldn’t afford to be spotted a second time. Not by him.

The Lieutenant approached at a brisk pace. Close behind him, Jul recognized Master Brand, the castle blacksmith. Over his leather apron, the man held several feet of chain as thick as Jul’s wrist, and so heavy it was slowing him down.

Jul stifled a shudder. The purpose of that monstrous thing was as clear as it was vile, yet she could only hide and pray this would finally make the Captain came to his senses.

Drost’s lips curled in obvious annoyance when he spotted his commanding officer. “I’m truly sorry, Evald. I’d hoped to spare you the pain, but since you’re here, perhaps you should be the one to do this.”

The Captain noticed the chains and his eyes blazed. “What is the meaning of this?” he asked tightly, looking from Drost to the Prince as if he couldn’t decide whether to be furious or repulsed by their decisions.

His reaction revived Jul’s hope like a torch on dying embers. He’d clearly never seen nor commissioned those chains before, which meant Lieutenant Drost and Prince Hans had conspired to have them made behind his back.

Drost took a determined step forward that promised everything but an apology. “That…woman is dangerous, Evald. Stop thinking like a father for a cursed second and-”

“I think what the Lieutenant is trying to say” Prince Hans cut in in a placating tone, “is that we need to proceed with caution. Believe me, Captain, we don’t like these precautions any more than you do, but we must put the safety of Arendelle first. After seeing the Queen’s powers with my own eyes, I have reason to believe they have corrupted her somehow. I know she’s like family to you, but we should all prepare for the worst.”

Treason was the only thing these two were preparing for. If only the Captain would put his sorrow aside and realize he was being played.

Instead the Captain sagged like a convict headed for the block. His gaze unfocused, he watched the Queen for so long that Jul thought he would never speak again. Then he closed his eyes and nodded somberly. “Proceed.”

Jul sucked in a breath. “No…no, this can’t be happening” she whispered hoarsely, the treasonous order ringing in her ears. There was no way the Captain, her Captain, would ever allow these traitors to put their filthy hands on the Queen. Protecting her was his life’s purpose. He couldn’t abandon her when she needed him the most.

“You heard the Captain, Master Brand. Go and be quick about it” Lieutanant Drost said, his tone dripping with impatience.

Jul flattened herself against Citron’s flank. There was no time to deal with this betrayal. A set of heavy steps drew near in a chorus of rattling chains. She only had a handful of seconds before Master Brand found her hiding there. Maybe more, depending on how scared the blacksmith was of approaching the Queen.

Jul’s eyes swept the grounds. All exits were either barred or guarded. The chapel stood close by but was too easily breached. The castle made for a better hiding place but not with a horse in tow. Even if Jul had enough time to cut the Queen free, she would have to make it past the guards stationed in the foyer, then find somewhere safe to hide, or avoid capture long enough for the Queen to regain consciousness.

The clanking grew louder. Jul met Nicklas’ eyes despite the distance between them. He was shaking his head vehemently, mouthing “No” over and over.

Jul had never been more eager to follow his advice and finish a shift for once. Yet, she gave him one final, grateful nod, before sliding one foot into Citron’s stirrup. “Hold tight, Your Majesty. I’m going to get you out of here.”

With a rapid motion, Jul mounted Citron and wheeled him around, making Master Brand stumble back with a startled cry.

For a moment there was silence as Jul spurred Citron toward the eastern gate. Then the whole courtyard fell into chaos.

“Carlsson, you crazy bitch!” bellowed Lieutenant Drost over the rising roar of angry voices. “Stop her!”

Jul bent low over Citron and urged him on with her heels and a stream of prayers. A deep and white expanse stretched before them. If they didn’t reach the eastern gate fast enough, every guard on shift would converge on their only path to freedom.

Despite Jul’s encouragements, however, Citron lost momentum as soon as they hit higher banks of snow. The stallion snorted and panted with every conquered inch. The courtyard seemed to be turning into frozen quicksands underneath them.

“Come on, buddy. Don’t give up on me. We’re almost there” Jul implored, dread closing around her heart.

Two guards stood waiting by the small gate. More were running down the battlement to intercept them. Jul didn’t turn around to see how many more were in pursuit. She nudged Citron with her knees for one last burst of speed. A little closer and they would still have a fighting chance.

Then came a whistle.

Citron whinnied and stopped so suddenly that Jul had no time to react. She went flying straight into a drift of immaculate snow. Darkness engulfed her in a freezing embrace. Flailing, she sunk to the bottom, while fine, powdery snow filled her mouth and nose. Her lungs burned, screaming for air.

At last Jul found purchase on the slippery cobblestones underneath. She broke the surface spluttering and coughing, only to realize many precious seconds had gone to waste. Citron was trotting back weakly to the palace, where his master waited for him. Any advantage they had gained on their pursuers had shrunk to almost nothing and all because of a stupid whistle.

“Damn him!” Jul cursed with chattering teeth, as she picked herself up and chased after Citron.

She stumbled twice on unfeeling feet, kicking up a storm of snow as she went. On either side of Citron, guards fumbled for the bridle while Lieutenant Drost screamed at them to hurry.

Jul caught up with them just as they’d finally secured the stallion. She barreled into the closer of the two and sent the man flying backwards onto the frozen cobblestones.

Pain ran down Jul’s shoulder as she skidded to a stop. The injured guard – Bjorg, she knew his name – looked up at her with startled eyes, wheezing for breath, clutching at his chest.

Jul backed away from him. Her stomach churned as if she’d gorged on stew down at the local tavern. When she managed to look away, she caught movement out of the corner of her eye, and ducked right before something whooshed over her head.

Bjorg’s partner uttered a long stream of curses. He stumbled forward, unable to stop his momentum. Jul pulled herself together before he did and kicked him hard in the side.

The guard howled in pain and collapsed to the ground. Jul staggered away from him, but his ragged moans seemed to tail her as she resumed her pursuit.

“Take one more step, Carlsson, and I’ll be building you a gallows myself!” Drost raged.

This time the threat was real, and Jul had her mutinous actions to blame for it. Still, she kept going. The gallows would be waiting for her regardless, unless she found another way out.

Citron’s protests were feeble when Jul finally reined him in. He was so tired that, when Prince Hans whistled a second, then a third time, all he could do was neigh back at his master in frustration.

Jul rubbed his neck to calm him down, while Drost shouted himself hoarse at his men from a distance. Then, she began sawing at the ropes that bound the Queen, going as fast as the cramps in her hands allowed. Every cut of the blade was torture. Sweat froze to her neck and forehead. Footsteps approached.

Time became her one and only enemy. No sooner had Jul sliced apart the first rope, than she was sawing away at the second one. Her motions were turning frantic, less effective. Her eyes stung but they didn’t stray from the cord, not even for a second. Nothing else mattered; not her pursuers, not the promise of a horrible death, not the path of destruction she’d left in her wake.

“Step away from my horse and lower your weapon.”

Jul started, coming close to cutting a gash into the Queen’s side. Her sword arm stilled but her mind ran without pause through the last of her options. Nothing came, not even the scrap of an idea.

Jul took a shuddering breath, tightened her grip on the partly-frayed cord, and swiveled around.

Prince Hans stood at a safe distance. His expression was somber, his eyes trained on her sword. “It’s over, soldier. Surrender the Queen now and your life will be spared.”

Citron nickered softly. He made to join his owner but Jul pulled back on the ropes. The severed cord rubbed on what was left of her broken blisters and she swallowed a scream. She breathed hard through her nose. Red stained the underside of her gloves. If Citron gave one more pull, she would lose him.

Prince Hans took a cautious step toward her and held out his hands for the reins. “There’s no need for violence, soldier. The Queen will be safe. You have my word.”

Jul burned with the desire to tell Prince Hans what he could do with his word. Then she noticed the man’s eyes flicker subtly at a blank spot behind her shoulder. Backup must be on the way. If she waited any longer, she’d be surrounded on all sides, seven to one. Then, it wound only be a matter of time before Prince Hans got his dirty hands on the Queen and played the part of the hero, while Jul died a rebel and a traitor to the crown.

Jul stole a rapid glance at Citron’s passenger. The Queen still lay unmoving under the blankets, unaware that her staff and her soldiers were turning against her.

For the briefest moment, Jul let her eyes rest on the woman’s face. Her throat grew so impossibly tight, that it hurt when the words left her lips in a scratched whisper. “It was an honor serving you at last, my Queen. May we meet again.”

Jul couldn’t bring herself to say any more. She tore her gaze away, wind stinging her eyes. Her speeding heart boomed in her ears. Slowly, she lowered her sword. Its weight had never felt so wrong and foreign in her hand before, like the weapon itself was rebelling against her will.

Mistaking her silence for surrender, Prince Hans advanced. Jul tensed, then drew a ragged breath and let the rope go.

“Drop your weapon, Carlsson! On your knees, now!” Drost commanded immediately, while Citron trotted to his master’s waiting arms.

Once more, Jul ignored the orders. Her eyes locked with Prince Hans’, searching his face one last time. Even though a million doubts still ate at her heart, she was certain of one thing: his guilt. He’d put on an impressive show – Jul had to give him that – but he was just another cunning noble on the hunt for power who’d overestimated his skills.

Gathering what was left of her strength, Jul flung herself at the Prince, causing yet another uproar within the courtyard. Guards were shouting. Guests yelled foreign words from the balcony that ran the length of the first floor. 

Their warnings made Prince Hans jerk away from Citron in all haste. His stubbled cheeks were a sickly shade of grey, his eyes alive with something that resembled fear. He stumbled back frantically, fumbling to free his sword from the scabbard, while Jul came at him, swinging her sword in a downward arc.

At the last possible moment, Prince Hans raised his sword. Their blades met in midair with a clash of ringing steel that reverberated through the courtyard.

Somehow Jul held on through the pain but Prince Hans was quicker to recover. At once, he put some distance between them. He was shaking right down to his toes, but the rage swirling in his eyes was steady in a way that made Jul shudder. The lines of his face were taut, as if he was struggling to rein in whatever bubbled underneath the surface.

Then, as if he’d suddenly remembered what role he was meant to play, Prince Hans took a steadying breath and slipped back into the shoes of Arendelle’s benefactor. He held up a hand in a placating gesture.

“Stay where you are, soldier, and think for a moment” the Prince urged. “If you truly cared for the Queen, you’d see that I’m only –”

“Enough of this charade! I’ve seen exactly who you are!”

Before she had to hear another word of his nauseating act, Jul hurled herself at him.

This time Prince Hans was waiting for her. Jul feinted once to the left before thrusting at his chest, while the gasps and screams of the crowd drowned out everything but her thundering heart.

With skillful ease, the Prince deflected her lunge and immediately counterattacked. Despite his recent trip to the mountain, he was fast on his feet, and faster still with his blade.

Jul parried a piercing blow to the shoulder then a slash to the knees in quick succession but her strength was waning. Pain followed every tiny movement of her blade, slowing down her arms and reflexes. At this rate she would never find an opening before the man drove her straight into an army of pursuers.

The corners of Prince Hans’ eyes crinkled at the edges, as if he knew exactly what she was thinking. He closed both hands on the hilt of his sword and brought it down like a hammer on an anvil.

Jul braced for impact but pain exploded as soon as his downward swing hit her block. Her fingers twitched against the hilt as the metal dug into her ruined palms. She fought the urge to scream, to let go of her sword and shove her hands into the frozen slush at her feet. Black spots danced before her eyes, but somehow she found the strength to resist a little longer.

Prince Hans pushed harder against her blade and stepped in closer, until only their weapons separated them. “You’re going to learn your place, you stupid wench” he whispered through chapped lips.

From up close, his eyes gleamed as if he already tasted victory. He knew he could get away with murder and still come out a savior.

And Jul had herself to blame for that. Attacking him had made her the villain. All people would see now, was an unstable woman overcome by her own emotions who’d turned on her own comrades without reason. 

Jul looked at the twisted smile on Prince Hans’ face, mocking her attempt at resistance, and knew he thought the same. He was writing her off as weak and deranged, just like any other bully had done before crossing swords with her. But he was about to learn the hard way that she had not survived the Royal Guard for six years by mistake.

All it took to show him, was one last, painful move; a final push that shifted her balance to her shoulders. From there it was child’s play. Her knee flashed upward and sunk into the Prince’s gut.

The crushing weight pushing against her sword lifted instantly, as Prince Hans doubled over, wheezing and clutching at his middle.

Jul stood over him, panting. At last she had him right where he belonged; on the ground, unarmed and hunched in pain. With one last stroke, his reign of lies would end forever.

But despite her desire to see the man pay for his crimes, Jul couldn’t move. Her arms weighed like lead at her sides. She shook like a spineless novice who’d drawn blood for the very first time.

Except she’d never been that guard. She’d always known what sacrifices might be required of her. She’d sworn to the King she would be ready when the time came, yet the thought of taking one man’s life to protect the kingdom was enough to overcome her.

“Julia!”

Nicklas’ cry cut through the noise with the full force of his anguish. Then a second voice joined in, a woman’s, calling her name from the castle’s upper windows.

Shaken by the urgency in their voices, Jul jolted back to her senses, but it was already too late to heed their warnings.

Something struck Jul hard on the back of her head and she went sprawling. Pain exploded at the base of her skull. For one helpless moment she couldn’t make her eyes focus, or hear anything other than a piercing ringing in her ears.

The ground spun underneath her, and her stomach with it, as she rose and rolled to her left. A split second later something impaled itself in the ice where her head had been but a moment before.

Jul scrambled to her feet, only to find that a circle of guards had surrounded her. There were too many of them and nowhere for her to go, not while both her sight and hearing malfunctioned. In such a state, the only person she could save was herself, but the thought of begging Drost for mercy was worse than an agonizing death by hanging. She’d rather take a sword to the gut and die fighting, than bow to any of these traitors.

Unlike Jul, her comrades did not hesitate to charge. They came at her like blurry shapes, hurtling towards her without rhyme or reason.

Somehow, Jul sidestepped a lunge to her ribs. She swung at her attacker, but her hook missed his face by a mile, leaving her left side exposed.

She paid for it at once, when a kick to the ribs sent her careening into another attacker. Breathless and dazed, Jul tried to push herself off, only to be struck between the shoulders from behind.

Jul sank to her knees and bent over, gasping. It felt like someone was poking her left side with hot irons. Every breath and movement sent a stab of agony through her.

For a fleeting moment, the Captain’s thunderous voice crackled in Jul’s broken ears, then just as quickly, it was gone.

Alone again, Jul gritted her teeth. She braced for the next wave, but the beating was over before everyone had taken their turn.

Looking up, Jul found her comrades had stepped to the side. Their features were blurry and their words muddy in her ears, but she could tell they were laughing. Behind them, a large, white shape moved towards the stables.

Jul found there was more suffering yet to endure. A long shadow fell over her. Two dark, fur-lined boots entered her line of vision. She recognized them at once, but made no move to speak or look back up. Words were meaningless at this point, even more so with Drost. Jul’s only solace was that she was keeping the Lieutenant away from the Queen a little longer.

Drost didn’t take well to being ignored. His gloved, bony hands fisted in the worn material of Jul’s coat. He shook her with such violence that the throbbing ache in her side made her head swim. She had no choice but to fight the dizziness and look up at his blurry face.

Another of his spectacles began. Words flowed like a river from the Lieutenant’s mouth, as loud and angry as he could make them. His gravelly voice came and went over the sound of Jul’s shallow breathing, in a jumbled and distorted mess of syllables.

Jul would’ve laughed at the irony of finally being free of his vengeful mockery, but Drost didn’t give her the chance. He pulled a glove off and slapped her across the face so hard that she rocked back.

Two rough sets of hands righted Jul and she swallowed a cry. The taste of blood was on her tongue, as sharp as the stinging cut above her left eyebrow. At this point, the old Jul would’ve been scared to test Drost any longer. Instead the man’s anger only fueled her defiance. Pity she couldn’t see the look on his face as she spat on the black outline that were his boots.

“Keep going, Lieutenant. I’m done being afraid of you” Jul rasped. “You’re nothing but a coward and a traitor. I hope trading Arendelle’s survival for a seat at the big boys’ table will be worth dying-”

A fist connected with Jul’s cheek and knocked her sideways. She cried out and hit the snow-covered ground on her injured side.

Pain washed over her, consuming her. With great effort, Jul recollected her thoughts. She lifted her head up, just to show Drost he hadn’t broken her. He never would.

When she saw the blurred shape hurtling toward her face it was too late.

Darkness claimed Jul before she hit the ground again.

Chapter Text

It all started with a slight tremor in his fingers, the kind that had been plaguing everyone for days. At first Nicklas thought nothing of it. If anything, it was easier to mistake it for anger. So he did his best to tune out the drunken laughter inside the dining hall and stirred his onion soup, tired and nauseous already from lack of sleep.

That's when his nostrils filled with a smell he thought he'd left behind, one that still haunted his nightmares; coal and dirt.

Nicklas stiffened. He looked up from his lunch, desperate to stay in charge. Instead he saw Holt mime a scream and fall to the ground.

By then it was too late. The memories outran him.

Darkness pooled around him, thick and oppressive. The ground was shaking, filling the air with a distant rumble of falling rocks.

Nicklas coughed up dust, fanning smoke from his eyes. All around him, the incessant echoes of a dozen pickaxes ceased abruptly and morphed into panicked screams, broken by a deep, commanding voice and the crack of a whip.

Terror swept over Nicklas. He flung away his pickax and took off running, blindly feeling his way down the cramped tunnel with outstretched hands.

The moment his boots hit rubble, he dropped to his knees. Barehanded, he started digging through rocks and dirt, tears streaming down his face.

Faster, faster!

Cold was seeping into his clothes, his skin, and deeper still into his bones. When light from a flickering lantern finally shone over his bleeding, grime-coated fingers, Nicklas recoiled with a horrified gasp.

Underneath him, was a heap of frozen mud and blood-stained snow instead of debris from a collapsed tunnel. A lifeless body jutted out from the slush. Not the body of a dirty, scrawny twelve-year-old boy, but that of a young woman whose features had been ravaged into an unrecognizable mess.

Her blue eyes flashed open and fastened on Nicklas, glassy and accusing.

Screaming, Nicklas scrambled back on hands and feet. He couldn't look away or get the words out to tell the woman he was sorry, even if he didn't know why or what for.

He curled up in a tight ball on the floor, sobbing and shaking, when a sharp jab to his arm made him flinch. He peered through his fingers but he was alone in darkness once more.

Then, from the mouth of the tunnel, came snatches of music and familiar voices calling his name. Nicklas picked himself up and made to reach them like they were hands ready to lift him out of a bottomless pit.

Little by little, darkness gave way to a soft and steady glow. Nicklas blinked hard and took in his true surroundings, searching for an anchor to tether him to the present; the stink of spilled ale and onions that hung in the air, the solid feel of a bowl in his hands.

"Brother, are you in there?"

Haldor spoke as if he'd asked that same question a few times already.

Nicklas barely managed a nod. Everything was coming back to him but much too slowly for words.

"Thank goodness." Morten sighed in relief. "You totally checked out back there. You looked like you were about to pass out or something."

Nicklas breathed in the pungent smell of onions wafting up from his soup before taking a big gulp. The taste made him queasy but it grounded him almost as much as Alvis' probing gaze.

"I'm all right, guys," he said when he trusted himself enough to speak. "I must have dozed off."

The teasing didn't start as it should have. In fact, their table grew so quiet that guards sitting nearby began giving them dirty looks. Their shortsightedness left Nicklas fuming. As if everyone who didn't drink himself into a stupor wanted summer any less. As if all this jesting and singing could hide the fact that Prince Hans still hadn't delivered on his words.

Over by the fireplace, Casper Holt and his circle of highborns still entertained their diverse audience like actors in a play. Nicklas resisted the urge to cover his ears or look over, lest he spiral into yet another flashback.

"Let's toast to our freedom, brothers. To another thousand years without women in our midst!" Holt slurred.

The room erupted into loud cheers and applause.

Nicklas hunched his shoulders. He made himself take another gulp of soup even though it seemed to burn his throat like acid.

"So…" Morten dragged out the word, shouting to make himself heard over the opening notes of a bawdy tune. "I've heard that good ol' Svendsen has yet to leave his office after returning from the dungeons. First King Agnarr's betrayal and now this. The poor guy must be losing his marbles."

"Please," Alvis scoffed, "the man was useless to begin with. We're better off with Prince Hans in charge. The lad might be inexperienced, but he won't get caught up in useless sentimentalisms if worse comes to worst."

While Haldor grunted his approval, Nicklas couldn't bring himself to agree with anything Alvis had said. Captain Svendsen had made plenty of hard choices already, choices that were fueling his own flashbacks. If being sentimental was their commander's weakness, then why did he let Julia – his most loyal and devoted guard – get beaten bloody before calling off his men?

"If the prince is such a sensible fellow, then why is it taking him so long to fix this mess? I've had enough winter to last me a lifetime."

Morten glanced morosely out the closest window. Nicklas followed his line of sight. It was well past noon, five hours since the Queen's return, yet snow was still falling thickly from a leaden sky. If anything, the weather seemed to be getting worse.

"I'll tell you why, Morty. Because the princeling is scared of the consequences." Haldor made a face and continued working out a knot in his thick neck. "He's got to stop thinking like a wretched politician and do something. Only action will rid us of this evil curse."

Nicklas shifted uneasily in his seat. In the back of his mind, he imagined Julia sitting at their table. He could almost hear her arguing with his friends about the Queen, turning heads with her obscure theories on why winter was still going strong. Blaming the Queen would never cross her mind. Not even dying of cold in a dirty, rat-infested cell would shake her beliefs.

"Prince Hans might be in charge now, Haldor, but he needs the approval of the council to move forward with something of this magnitude." Alvis tugged at his beard. "Given the circumstances, though, I doubt they'll stall him much longer. They must see that we're better off without Queen Elsa."

"And how would you know that?" Nicklas surprised himself by asking. "No one has ever spoken to the woman, yet suddenly everyone's become an expert on who or what she is."

Something burned in his stomach and crawled its way up his throat when Alvis fixed his sharp, gray eyes on him.

"I would think the current state of our kingdom speaks for itself," Alvis said curtly. "If that woman had cared at all about Arendelle – about us – she should've packed her things and disappeared a long time ago."

"But this is her home! What if she's just as terrified of us as we are of her? What if this is her way of asking for a little bit of warmth and understanding?" Nicklas countered, his voice rising, his throat tight. "Stop judging her for one moment and put yourself in her shoes for once!"

Silence fell at their table, so heavy that it seemed to eat up the crowd's off-pitch singing.

Alvis leaned back in his seat, mouth set in a hard, thin line. "We need to look at the facts, Nick, not play nursemaid while people are dying in their homes." He clenched his jaw as if to refrain from saying something he would regret then exhaled through his nose. "I promise you, I take no joy in seeing you like this, but I told you time and again that Carlsson was dangerous and you refused to listen."

Alvis might as well have poured whiskey down Nicklas' burning throat.

"You're the one who isn't listening! You never do when it comes to Julia. She could be Prince Hans' lapdog and you'd still find ways to blame her for everything!"

"Easy guys." Morten cast a nervous look around the dining hall. "We really don't want the spotlight right now."

Morten's plea fell on deaf ears. Alvis gripped the edge of the table, eyes smoldering. "Carlsson turned against her own brothers and nearly killed our regent in cold blood." He leaned forward as if he meant to grab Nicklas by his coat and give him a shake. "It's time you wake up and see that woman for the traitor without morals she's always been."

Every word hit Nicklas like a slap in the face. He looked at Alvis, half-expecting to see Holt sitting there instead, asking him to chose one friend over another like it was no big deal.

"Julia might be wrong about a lot of things but she's no traitor." Nicklas balled his fists and found his fingers still ached from the morning. He'd clenched them so long and hard, it was a wonder they hadn't broken by the time Julia's unconscious body had been dragged to the dungeons like a sack of bloody rags. "I'm the traitor here," Nicklas went on, voice breaking. "I'm the one who put Julia in harms' way without thinking of the consequences and now she'd dying in agony all alone in a prison cell."

Alvis shook his head like he couldn't believe what he was hearing. "You're a fool to blame yourself and an even bigger fool to think Carlsson wouldn't have gotten herself arrested a few hours later trying to break into the dungeons."

"Agreed," Haldor said. "No way was your lady going to sit back and watch. She is behind bars because she chose to fight." He nodded solemnly at that. "You should respect that and move on."

"Yes, it's time you start thinking about yourself," Alvis added in exasperation. "You're lucky Drost hasn't figured out you're the reason Carlsson was on that shift in the first place or you'd be sharing a cell right now."

The warning only made Nicklas wish he had the courage to find Drost and come clean. Maybe the flashbacks and the turmoil in his head would quiet down once he landed in the dungeons and he proved to Julia that he hadn't turned his back on her, too.

But what good would that do? Julia was fighting for her life and he'd be helpless to do anything but watch the light go out of her eyes.

The thought turned his stomach. He couldn't bear to watch another friend die any more than he could abandon one to their fate like his friends were suggesting. Moving on was not an option and neither was sitting by, waiting to find out what would become of Arendelle and of Queen Elsa. Every wasted second might cost Julia her life, unless he found the courage to speak up and ask for the unthinkable.

At last, the disgusting ballad tapered off amid a roar of applause. Nicklas ground his teeth. A cry for help swelled on the tip of his tongue as he weighed his options and his friends one by one; three amazing men, his team, his family away from home. They'd always stuck together, supported one another, put their differences aside for the greater good. Yet, they hadn't been running like a well-oiled machine lately. Ever since Julia had been assigned as his partner on Coronation Day, their united front had broken into factions – three against one. Nicklas had lost count of how many times he had been asked to remove Julia from his life already. Even if he begged and pleaded, his friends were more likely to stop him than to lend a hand.

At last, the time had come for him to fight his own battles. The mines might have made him into a weakling and a coward but he was done falling short when those he loved needed him.

"If one of you was dying in jail, paying for a mistake I'd made, how do you think I'd feel? Would you still expect me to move on and count my lucky stars?"

Nicklas didn't wait for an answer and rose from the bench. "I'm going back to bed. You should join the party before anyone thinks you're in mourning."

A hand grabbed Nicklas' elbow before he could make a beeline for the exit. He jerked around in the grip and found Alvis glaring daggers at him, fingers digging into his flesh.

"Do you take me for a fool? I know it's not your bunk you're running off to." Alvis pulled him closer with such force that Haldor got to his feet as if he expected a fight. "That woman is beyond saving. What are going to do this time? Beg our regent? Ask him to trade places with her?"

Nicklas twisted his arm free. His heart weighed like an overloaded mine cart as he shot Alvis a defiant look.

"I'll do whatever it takes to make things right. With or without you. I'm not going to leave another friend behind."

With that Nicklas strode off, shaking with conflicting emotions.

Holt called after him over the music. "Off to see your girlfriend, Nicky? Tell her to hang…in there, will you?"

Hoots and mocking laughter followed Nicklas out the dining hall like a pack of hunting dogs. He didn't dare slow down or look behind his shoulder until the barracks arched entrance came into view.

Breathless, he leaned against the closest wall, unclenching white-knuckled fists. Anger swelled inside him – at his comrades' mockery, at his friends' mistrust, but mostly at himself for watching Julia put up with insults and cruel pranks for years without ever lifting a finger.

But that would change. He would get her back somehow and he would be at her side when it mattered.

Despite the new surge of resolve, Nicklas still felt weak at the knees at the prospect of stepping outside without a safety net or a plan to see him through.

Then he heard multiple footsteps approaching at a rapid pace and risking his life seemed like a far better option. He summoned all his willpower and stepped out into the blizzard.

Voices filtered past a dense silence that warped words like water. Jul floated to the surface long enough to capture broken syllables and sounds, only to plunge back into a cold and bottomless darkness.

No matter how deep Jul sank into oblivion, a ripple of discomfort trickled through; the insistent whisper of a cold draft against her body, the edge of a rock-hard object lodged into her side that wouldn't let her breathe. Wakefulness and rest danced just out of reach, taunting her, keeping her trapped in a constant state of fitful sleep.

At last, the sound of a metal door slamming, jolted Jul back to consciousness.

Shivering like she was wrapped in icy blankets, she forced her eyes open. Dim light spilled into the room, just enough of it to make her head start pounding and nausea set in. Slowly, awareness returned and with it a nagging feeling that something wasn't quite right.

Jul made to lift her head to check her surroundings when a hot stab of agony went through her middle.

She fell back with a strangled cry. Pain flooded in like a raging river, setting her senses ablaze. At last, reality sharpened into focus. Jul began to feel uneven ground beneath her stomach, sapping heat from her body through her clothes. The room was deathly quiet and the stank of rot, burning oil and blood hung heavy in the air.

Jul lay motionless, her eyes shut tight, ears ringing in the stifling and muffled silence. The inside of her brain felt as tender as Magnus' scrambled eggs.

Long, endless seconds passed before the burning ache in her stomach eased and she could form a coherent thought.

Then her brain caught up, too. One by one, her memories slid back into place. Jul remembered eating dinner with Nicklas, a never-ending night shift, her first, bittersweet encounter with the Queen, the Captain's betrayal, then an escape attempt gone wrong and the shameful second of hesitation that had landed her in a world of pain and regrets.

Jul fought back the urge to scream as the images replayed in her mind. Of course Drost had finally made good on his promise. She'd basically done all the work for him. In her rush to save the Queen, she'd made mistakes worthy of a novice, forgotten every lesson Master Holm had all but beaten into her. Her reckless actions had cost her everything. Worst of all, she'd failed the only three people who'd made her time in the Guard feel worthy of something.

Arendelle and the Queen were at the mercy of mercenaries now. Jul's imagination ran wild with all sorts of terrifying scenarios; Drost punishing Nicklas in retaliation, the Council finding the Queen unfit to rule and sentencing her to death, her own mother and brother being shunned by their fellow villagers for crimes that she alone had committed.

Lying there with only ice and guilt for company and too many aches to count, Jul was as good as dead. A broken, worthless piece of bluish meat with maybe a few hours left on the clock.

At least, that's what Drost wanted, to put out her fire. But Jul still felt a spark inside her. Battered and bruised as she was, she wasn't done fighting. If death was her fate, then she'd rather die trying to right her wrongs than let Drost have the last word.

It took more than just resolve, though, to get back on her feet. It must have been hours since the lieutenant had kicked her in the face because all her limbs were as hard and unfeeling as icicles. There was just enough range of movement in them to make some headway.

Jul set to work. One deep breath in and a host of profanities out. Anger kept her focused, unwavering, even when the smallest shift of one arm took time, energy and an enormous amount of suffering.

More than once Jul feared she would crumble under her own weight and never get up again. Eventually she staggered to her feet, though, nauseous and dizzy. She wobbled toward the closest sleeping shelf and lowered herself panting onto its narrow stone seat. The room spun as she leaned back against the wall to inspect her new lodgings.

Long, narrow and windowless, the cell was bare except for another sleeping shelf hanging across from hers. The only light filtered down through a grate above a sturdy wooden door with a barred grille at eye level.

Jul paused to catch her breath while trying to recall what little she knew about the dungeons. Aside from poachers and the occasional idiot who got drunk at the local tavern and tried breaking into the castle for a look at the reclusive Princess, the prison stood empty. Patrol shifts down here were a paid vacation reserved for Drost's favorites. Most of what Jul knew, came from overheard conversations between Holt and his cronies. If they were to be believed, the dungeons were no more than one long corridor with five holding cells on either side. A single, reinforced steel door served as the only way in or out. Two guards were posted at the entrance and rotated every six hours. Anyone wanting to leave the premise would have to get past them first.

Chains rattled somewhere close by like someone was pulling on them. Jul struggled back to her feet and hobbled to the door. Like it or not, she'd have to hail the guards if she wanted answers. It didn't matter that they would just shower her with insults after what she'd done. She just needed to get them talking long enough to let something slip, anything that could tell her if Nicklas had been arrested, where the Queen had been taken and whether or not Prince Hans had already wormed his way into the council chamber.

Three quick, jarring raps on the dungeon door put the unpleasant chat on hold.

Jul pressed one ear to the door, the skin hard and unfeeling against its frozen surface. A muffled scraping of chairs echoed down the corridor, followed by several metallic screams of bolts sliding open.

Torches sputtered in their sconces along the wall as voices drifted over on the current. Soon there were footsteps approaching.

With a uniform sleeve, Jul wiped at the dirty window through a gap in the grille. Across the hallway floor the shadows were retreating, giving way to a blinding brightness.

Eyes burning, Jul slid out of sight. She waited for the guards to pass by but the thumping of their heavy boots slowed to a stop just outside her cell.

A sudden wave of vertigo washed over Jul. Dizzy, she slumped against the door. The acrid smell of burning oil wafted through the open grate, coiling around her throat like a silent promise.

They shouldn't be coming for her. Not yet. At least not while winter still had Arendelle in its clutches. The council should worry about that instead of executing prisoners.

"She's dangerous, My Lord. You shouldn't go in alone."

Jul's racing heart stumbled like she'd missed a flight of stairs. Her thoughts spun in circles, slipping through her fingers before she'd made sense of what to do and how to pull herself away from the door.

"Wait for me here and stand by in case I need backup. Quick now, open this door."

Jul heard the unmistakable crunch of a lock turning. Hinges groaned. Then, all was still.

The door hadn't moved an inch.

Jul's heart plummeted with realization. She scrambled back to the window but Prince Hans had already slipped into the cell across from hers and sealed away the angry complaint of a woman coming from inside.

A very different kind of terror slid down Jul's spine. Iron dug into her palms as she pulled her face up to the bars to peer through them.

Two guards stood side by side in the shadowy corridor. They had their backs to her and their heads close together so they could both check on the Prince through the cell's tiny, barred window.

Unable to do the same, Jul clung to the bars and waited, careful not to give herself away.

That voice. Jul had never heard it before yet it conjured up images of a sleeping woman with pale hair as if it meant to complete the picture.

A muted clatter of chains coming from the cell dispelled any lingering doubt. The guards shifted nervously, muttering to each other as they watched.

Jul's heartbeat quickened. Her fingers twitched against the bars, frustration crawling under her skin. She wasn't strong enough to kick down the door but the urge to try was overwhelming. She couldn't decide which was worse: knowing the Council had gone through with this moronic decision, or knowing the Captain had stood for it, too. How could now one see that Prince Hans was trying to clear himself a path to the throne?

Jul let go of the bars before they cut into her unfeeling skin. Anger roared in her ears. She hadn't gambled her life away for this, to watch the Queen suffer a fate worse than hers. Now that things had been set in motion, the councilors and that southern vermin would not back down once the Queen refused to cooperate after what they had done to her. One way or another, Prince Hans would get his wish. Unless…

The spark of a desperate idea cleared the red haze from Jul's mind.

She backed away from the door until the grate above it came in full view. Blood throbbed at her temples as she lifted her eyes to the arched opening. Her head swam. The words, however, surged forth as if they'd been waiting at the edge of her consciousness all along. Jul wrapped an arm around her torso and set them loose at the top of her lungs.

"Don't listen to him, Your Majesty! That man is a liar and a criminal. All he wants is to steal your throne!"

Something thudded against the door, knocking shards of ice off the top frame.

"Shut the hell up, Carlsson, or I'll make you sorry for that filthy mouth!"

Jul caught her breath, her stomach lurching. She knew the threat by heart like a tired, old refrain. And, for once, she outright ignored it by taking another deep gulp of air. If she knew Count Gustav Jakobsen at all, he'd be bursting through that door like his own bloodline was on fire in order to avenge the insult.

Jul counted on it as she bellowed, "Run, Your Majesty! Blast Prince Hans with your magic and save yourself before it's too late! They will kill—"

A coughing fit overtook Jul mid-sentence, scattering her focus into a million pieces. Gasping in between spasms, she doubled over, clutching her side like it was about to burst open.

Through the walls, she heard Prince Hans bark an order, then a loud triumphant cackle from the hallway. Within seconds her cell was ringing with the sound of gears grinding and turning. Rusty hinges groaned and creaked in protest. Much too soon the door flew open.

Warmer, smoke-scented air wafted in and ruffled Jul's hair and clothes like a gentle caress. Jul squinted against a wall of light pouring in from the corridor, still struggling for breath. Gustav's menacing silhouette already loomed on the threshold. She couldn't take him on like this, not unless she wanted to end up broken and bleeding on the floor again. She needed time to clear her mind or else her next move would be her last.

"Stand back, Otto. I've got this." Gustav all but pushed his shift partner aside and stepped through the doorway. He slashed the air with a torch in a wide arc. "Let's see if Carlsson still feels like running her mouth after I've broken all her teeth in."

Bright trails of flames swished in the dark, poking holes through Jul's slitted eyelids as she retreated. Her head pounded almost as fast as her racing thoughts. Patience, Jul told herself, channeling her inner Nicklas. Gustav had always been all brawn and no brain, as befitted Holt's meanest associate. The oldest trick in the book would get her past him. The actual obstacle stood behind the lordling; a silent presence named Otto blocking her only exit with his imposing bulk, ready to swat her away like a fly should she attempt to escape.

Gustav advanced with small steps, carelessly juggling his torch from one hand to the other. "What's wrong, Carlsson? Not so brave now that daddy Svendsen isn't here to protect you, are you?"

Jul was too busy trying not to choke on smoke to reply, even though she had quite a few choice words for him. Gustav kept toying with his torch, making light bounce off gray stone like a flaming arrow. Jul's eyes stung with the effort to keep him in sight while she figured out a plan, something that would likely involve snuffing out the blasted thing in places the flames would hurt.

When cold stone brushed the back of her coat, though, Jul barely had the beginning of an exit strategy in mind, let alone the means to execute it.

"Man, I wish the boys were here to see this," Gustav said, sounding way more excited than sorry. "They'll hail me as their savior once they find out I tore you to pieces."

All the more reason she must not screw up again. Jul flattened herself against the wall. She hunched her shoulders and made a show of shielding her face with her good arm.

Right on cue, Gustav burst into delighted, breathless laughter. He didn't see his stroke of good fortune for what it truly was.

When Otto cried out it was already too late. Jul charged forward and slammed her shoulder into Gustav's chest like a human battering ram.

The lordling's laughter chocked off abruptly. Gustav collapsed in a wheezing heap on the ground, the offending torch flying out of his hand in a spinning, blazing arch, to land at Jul's feet.

"Stop right there!" Otto rushed into the cell and planted himself between Jul and the exit, hardly sparing his partner a glance. Distress showed in his stance and it made his voice waver. "Damn you, Carlsson. Why can't you ever leave things be?"

Jul groaned, reeling from the shock of impact numbing her from the shoulder down. She didn't know whether to laugh or cry. After all this time, her comrades still believed she was stirring up trouble just for the sake of it, when her motives where at the heart of what they did, of who they were. If they didn't get it now that the kingdom was actually in danger, perhaps they never would. And Jul was done explaining to a bunch of mercenaries what the job of a guard entailed.

Pain twisted Jul's insides as she snatched up the fallen torch before it sputtered out. Faint and breathless, she turned to Otto's blurry outline and hissed through her teeth. "Because, unlike you traitors, I am a Royal Guard!"

With a raucous scream, Jul flung the torch at Otto in as straight a line as she could muster. Hissing and crackling, the flaming weapon hit the guard square in the chest. Sparks flew. Otto watched in stunned surprise as they immediately caught in his long, braided beard.

By then, Jul was already rushing past him and his horrified cries. Light beckoned and she responded by bursting through the opening at a halting run.

The stink of burnt hair clung to her as she stumbled into the smoky tunnel, heedless of her injuries. To hell with her broken bones. She'd break to pieces before she let another bloody door come between her and the Queen.

Picturing blue crocuses and white-painted wood, Jul threw herself against the cell door as if it would make up for every single night she hadn't.

But the door flew open a second before Jul's bloodstained gloves could reach its frozen surface.

Jul toppled forward with a pained grunt, unable to stop her momentum, and landed face first into the soft, dark lapels of a dress uniform.

Expensive perfume engulfed her, thick and suffocating. Jul recoiled, gagging from a mixture of revulsion and recognition. With desperate haste she shoved away from the touch, but two hands fisted in her dirty coat, holding her in place.

Shattering despair closed around her chest in an even tighter grip. Helpless, she could only watch as the door swung shut behind Prince Hans and sealed away a fleeting glimpse of the Queen, awake and on her feet, frowning down at the steel mitts encasing her hands.

"No!" Jul spluttered. She pushed away from the prince with her last ounce of strength. "Use your powers, Your Majesty! Free yourself and leave—"

"Enough!"

Prince Hans's fist appeared out of nowhere and slammed into Jul's injured side so hard that it knocked the breath out of her.

The corridor blurred and tilted sideways. Jul staggered back a step before her knees buckled and she crumpled to the ground. Pain radiated from her middle, paralyzing her, swallowing her thoughts and the world around her.

"Get this stupid woman out of my sight," Prince Hans ordered in a clipped tone. "If she so much as utters another word, I'll have you both charged with negligence."

Jul tasted blood and bile at the back of her throat upon hearing Prince Hans' steps recede swiftly down the corridor. This was no victory, but the briefest of delays at most. The princeling would run crying to the council and no doubt come back with an execution party in tow to finish what he'd started. Jul could only hope her words had left a mark on the Queen and not just doomed her to more violence.

All too soon, Otto was grabbing her by the back of her coat and flinging her back inside her cell.

Jul hit the floor like a chunk of cracked glass. She screamed then, until her voice gave out, unable to keep at least her dignity in one piece.

"Close the door, you stupid oaf," Gustav rasped, each word fraught with cold rage.

A set of blurry boots approached, sending tremors through the ground and through Jul. Fear lurked in the deepening darkness so she clung to the only weapon at her disposal: defiance. Gustav could exhaust all his wrath on her and then some, but he would never break her.

"Come now, Carlsson, let me hear your voice," Gustav began, placing his foot on Jul's windpipe. "Call on your precious Queen for help. I'm sure she'd love to lend a hand to a fellow witch."

Jul fought for breath but air left her mouth with gurgling sounds. Half-blind, she clawed at soft leather with aching, weakening fingers. As her lungs burned, a dense, cold, fog thickened around her thoughts, sapping away her strength.

"What's the matter? Don't tell me it hurts. We're just getting started."

Jul looked up with unseeing eyes. With one last wisp of clarity, she mouthed three silent words.

Go. To. Hell.

Gustav hissed as if she'd struck him. "You filthy lowlife!"

The pressure on Jul's windpipe dropped away. She managed one full breath before Gustav kicked it out of her. His blows came hard and fast from above, each of them punctuated by an insult or a curse.

Soon Jul lost track of how many. Searing agony exploded wherever Gustav's boot landed, seeping though her flesh until every fiber of her being was alight and throbbing.

"I think that will do, my lord." Otto's voice sounded strained and distant in Jul's ears when it cut through the stream of profanity. The beating stopped. "The next shift will be here soon, sir. We should get back to our post."

"Bah! You're all work and no fun, Otto." Gustav rested his foot on Jul's forehead as if deciding whether or not to keep going. After a beat, he shoved her away like she was a disgusting, rotten thing under the sole of his boot. "Man, I can't wait to see this bitch sway beneath the gallows."

But Jul was fading already, drifting off and away from her tormented flesh.

Darkness wrapped around her in a soothing, welcoming embrace. Jul sank into its depths with abandon. When she opened her eyes again she was home.

It was a beautiful Sunday afternoon which meant she was outside practicing swordplay against her brother Axel by the barn. Their father split logs for the winter nearby, cheering them on and calling out instructions in between every stroke of the axe. Wood split easily under his blade, folding in half with a wet, hollow crunch.

Jul stopped her final assault mid-swing. Something about that sound didn't feel right.

She glanced at the huge mound of wood at her father's feet and recoiled. Ice coated the logs in a thin layer of ice that was spreading across their bark as if it had a mind of its own. In a matter of seconds it had crawled up her father's legs and covered the courtyard in a blanket of morning frost.

Jul tried calling out to him but her throat seared as if she'd swallowed mouthfuls of jagged shards. Coughing and shivering, she dropped her practice sword and took off running, fear pumping in her veins. She raced the lengthening shadows stretching over their homestead, struggling against the rising wind while heavy storm clouds gathered overhead.

She was almost there, close enough to see her father's mouth open in a scream, when her feet slipped out from under her.

Cursing, Jul hit the ground with a resounding crunch of something more than just frosty grass. Pain lanced through her side on impact. The courtyard swam before her eyes as she tried in vain to scramble to her feet on arms and legs that had gone completely numb.

Despair made her look up. Ice had overrun every last inch of their homestead and of the surrounding forest. What remained of her father and brother were two shimmering statues that watched her with soulless, empty eyes.

Jul's ragged breathing came out in a sob. She slumped onto the freezing earth and huddled there, alone and at the mercy of wind and weather. It wasn't long before the shadows around her thickened and her home faded into darkness.

Jul descended into a timeless, empty space within herself. She dove deeper and deeper still, desperate to escape her tormented body.

As soon as she'd found a whisper of warmth in the stillness, however, a sharp crack of splintering wood flooded her consciousness.

Jul came to abruptly, stiff and shivering violently. Her every nerve ending throbbed as if it had been left exposed, convincing her very quickly that she was indeed still alive and that winter was still going strong. She forced her frozen eyelashes open to the sound of howling, angry winds beating against the dungeon outer walls. In the gloom overhead, a constant, sinister echo of groans and cracks, freed a light dusting of wood shavings.

Squinting up at the ceiling, Jul blinked the culprit into better focus; thick veins of ice slithered all over the floor and up the walls just like in her nightmare. Their vast web coiled around the cell's support beams and worked its way through their every fissure and crack as if it meant to rip them apart from the inside.

Jul groaned and wiped her face clean of wood chips and frost, ignoring the loud protests of every joint and bone in her body. Her skin felt too hard and cold to the touch. If she waited there any longer, she'd either die crushed under tons of bricks and beams or fall into another painful slumber while her flesh hardened and rotted away.

Not yet, not like this.

The words shook Jul out of her lethargy. With one last glimmer of strength, she crawled toward her sleeping shelf and hoisted herself onto its frosted surface.

Magic pulsed with feverish urgency everywhere she looked. It gave Jul the energy she needed not to give in to exhaustion. As long as that lasted, there was still hope.

Then, out of nowhere, the floor began to rumble. Icicles broke loose from the ceiling. The door rattled in its frame while the support beams groaned like they were about to snap in half.

Jul winced and stumbled to her feet, clutching her side. The door seemed miles away but she had to make it there at once. The ground had stopped trembling and she could hear a rumble of hurried footsteps coming from the hallway.

Within seconds, a small cluster of guards filed past the grille, Prince Hans trailing behind them.

"Hurry up!" Gustav urged.

Their shift wasn't over yet, which meant Otto was the one with the keys.

"She's dangerous. Move quickly!"

"Careful!"

The Prince's backup spoke and moved with a nervous tension that betrayed their fear of confronting their Queen.

Jul was way past the point of fear, however. It was her body that couldn't keep up once again. When she tried sending a warning to the Queen, her throat clenched and burned so hard that all that came out was a breathy whistle.

"It won't open!" Otto cried, jamming the key in and out of the slot.

Gustav shoved his partner aside and threw himself uselessly against the door. "It's frozen shut."

Precious seconds passed. Jul hoped they'd count for something as the guards combined their strength for a collective strike.

The door gave way on the fourth try. From inside came a muffled crash that had the guards shouting and shielding their faces.

Prince Hans pushed past them into the room and out of sight.

The ensuing silence was the sweetest music Jul had ever heard. She collapsed smiling against the doorframe, eyes smarting. Daylight had never looked so beautiful as it did now, shining off her comrades' dark boots. Wind made their coattails flap and blew big, fluffy flakes of snow into the dungeons.

Prince Hans stalked out of the cell, eyes brimming with fury. He stared the guards down before saying, "Inform Lieutenant Drost that the Queen has escaped. I want the entire Royal Guard scouring every inch of this fjord for her. Anyone who finds her, has orders to kill on sight…if I haven't done so already."

Jul was only vaguely aware of the Prince rushing off toward the entrance. Her gut hurt as if his fist had reached through the door and struck her again. Whether or not this was the council's ruling or the southern bastard's way of bypassing it, Jul could not afford to waste a second longer in this prison.

While the guards outside scattered, Jul took stock of her situation. Themoment her gaze fell on an upturned bucket lying unnoticed under her sleeping shelf, an idea struck her.

With a small amount of pressure, Jul crushed the whitened bucket under her boot. She snatched up two of the smallest, sharpest pieces from the wreckage and knelt by the keyhole. Worst-case scenario, they'd double as weapons in case she alerted her jailers by fiddling with the lock.

Jul's chances of picking the lock without the right tools and with fingers that only bent halfway became apparent at once. The two makeshift picks rattled uselessly against the gears without a shred of control. The seconds ticked by while her fingers grew sluggish, her motions frantic. Before Jul had figured out a way to get her hands to cooperate, though, a deafening bang echoed through the dungeons.

Several torches outside went out like snuffed candles, plunging the cell in near darkness. Ears ringing, Jul released a string of curses that would've shocked her own brother. Her escape plan had been compromised and that wasn't even the worst part. There were tremors passing through the doors and beneath her feet. Each one of them freed a shower of debris from above and made the cell's structural beams groan like a dying beast on the verge of collapse.

But there was another stream of noise breaking through Jul's busted eardrums; shouts and screams, clopping and neighing sounds that mingled with a clamor of overlapping voices. All of that was followed by a dull clang that reminded Jul of Magnus working in the kitchen. The fighting ceased at once.

Jul was at a loss and the ensuing silence made the hair on the back of her neck stand up straight. Anyone with sense would be fleeing the dungeons, not come here looking for a fight.

Ideas began twisting her guts into bigger knots and she immediately discarded her thieving tools to retreat to the darkest corner of her cell.

"Spread out," said a male voice tight with urgency. "The sooner we find her, the sooner we can leave this place."

Jul couldn't place the voice even though it sounded familiar. It was a guard, though, she was sure of it – a guard who had disobeyed a direct order from his superior and led an entire team into the dungeons. Jul didn't need to scroll down a list of people to figure out who it might be and what they wanted from her. Except for Nicklas, she had nothing but a host of enemies so set on righting past wrongs that they'd rather risk their lives than let the cold do the job for them.

While multiple sets of footsteps approached, Jul armed herself with two of the biggest rocks that had come loose from a portion of the ceiling. She hunkered down in the shadows on shaky legs and waited.

All too soon, a tall and dark outline appeared through the window. Despite the faint glow of a distant torch, Jul could only bring into focus the man's tall cap and the contours of his face while he peered through the grille.

A royal guard, just like she'd feared.

Mind racing as fast as her pulse, Jul wrestled with her painful joints to hold as still as possible. If she managed to become one with the shadows, then maybe she could avoid detection and save her energy for one last escape attempt.

Seconds stretched on, way past the point of what Jul's muscles could handle. But in the end, the cramps seemed to pay off.

With a violent shake of his head, the soldier stepped back from the door and rushed away.

Relief lasted the span of one breath.

In the brief time it took Jul to slump back with a strangled groan, the guard returned, this time armed with keys. While he worked with furious urgency on the lock, Jul found herself rooted to the floor. She was exhausted, too tired to face yet another impossible challenge. It seemed that all she did was get beaten up over and over, only to find worse and bigger hurdles standing in her way.

But fighting was the only alternative, no matter how bad the odds. She couldn't allow these bastards the satisfaction of revenge.

After a good deal of kicking and shoving, the door flew inward with an explosion of ice shards. A broad-shouldered, lanky figure appeared in the doorway. With his back to the light and the collar of his coat pulled up, he could've been any nameless guard with stubbled cheeks and a grudge to settle.

Jul didn't wait for introductions. From her dark corner, she braced for pain and hurled one of the rocks at the invader.

Swift and silent as an arrow, the stone sailed across the room and struck the guard's cap with enough force to tear it off his head.

The guard cried out and ducked down as if he expected another volley.

"Hold your fire, Julia! It's me, Nicklas." He raised his hands in a placating gesture. "I know I'm late, but please, let me get you out of here first. Save your anger for when we're all somewhere safe and warm."

Jul froze, her throwing arm hovering in mid-swing. "Nick?" she croaked, blinking rapidly. The second stone clattered to the floor as she dropped her arm to her side. She staggered out of the shadows, praying her mind hadn't chosen this very moment to start playing cruel tricks on her. "Is it really you?"

Behind him, a small cluster of people stood waiting, framed in the torchlight that spilled into the cell. Jul couldn't get her eyes to linger on them long enough to make out their faces.

"Of course it's me. Who did you—" Nicklas trailed off and made a sound like he'd just seen a horse lurking in the shadows. In two strides he was at her side, standing close enough for her to see his pale, sunken cheeks and haunted eyes. His gloved hands hovered inches from her face. "Oh, man, what did they do to you?"

Jul managed half a sigh and a grimace before swatting his hands away. "We don't have time for this. Quick," she rasped, grabbing hold of his forearm for support, "help me out of here before we get crushed to death."

That sobered Nicklas up at once. He lowered his lanky frame, allowing Jul to lean her weight on him before leading her outside into the corridor.

There, five people waited, shivering, huddled around a beautiful white stallion. Jul slowed to a stop as their faces came into focus. Either she was going absolutely insane, or Nicklas had enlisted the help of three guards and two Coronan Royals to break her out of prison.

"Julia!"

With a gasp, Princess Rapunzel ran over to Jul. She was shockingly barefoot, wrapped in heavy blankets and wielding a sturdy frying pan. The other hand she freed hastily from the blankets to run lightly over bruises and damage that Jul could not see or feel. "How…how could they do this to you?" she whispered with tears and horror in her eyes. "Eugene, look what they did to her beautiful face!"

"I am looking and I wish I could stop," Prince Eugene whimpered under his frosted goatee. He couldn't have looked more horrified if he'd been staring at a pile of dismembered bodies. His hand went to his face as if to make sure his own features were still intact and he shuddered with relief. "Sunshine, please, put your tear ducts to good use before I'm scarred for life."

Jul stared at them both, too stunned for words. She had way too many questions swimming in her head, about the rescue operation but mostly about its members – human or otherwise.

Princess Rapunzel, however, swept them all away by intoning a soft, mesmerizing melody. Her voice drifted among them, warm and soothing, like a spell imbued with magic.

Flower gleam and glow
Let your power shine
Make the clock reverse
Bring back what once was mine
Heal what has been hurt
Change the —

"No, no, come on! Why won't it work?" The Princess rubbed at her eyelids, chanting softly under her breath while everyone stared in either shock or utter confusion, before dissolving into frustrated sobs. "It's too cold for tears, Eugene. What do I do?"

"Beats me, Sunshine," the Prince replied through chattering teeth. "I think it's too cold for my brilliant ideas, too."

"Your Graces," cut in the oldest of Nicklas' friends, Alvis Fjellheim. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but can…whatever this is wait until we're somewhere that is not about to collapse on top of us?"

Jul was the first to react. She drew away from Nicklas, doing her best to appear steady on her feet. "He's right, Your Highness. The dungeons are compromised. You need to get to safety."

"Wait – hold on there!" Nicklas stepped swiftly in front of Jul, his eyes boring into her. "We are all getting out of here. Together."

Jul fixed him with a look. "Every guard in this castle has orders to kill the Queen on sight. I need to find her and help her escape."

Nicklas' friends groaned and sighed in exasperation.

"Classic Carlsson," scoffed Alvis.

"We told you this was a mistake. She's going to get us all killed!" piped up the tallest of Nicklas' friends, bouncing on the ball of his feet as if he was about to bolt for the exit.

"Oh come on, guys, stop being so mean. We've been over this already." Princess Rapunzel regarded them with a disappointed pout that could've pacified warring nations. "Julia is a guard. Of course she wants to protect Elsa. Don't you all?"

The damning silence that followed was a sad testament to what the Guard had become. Even the horse tossed its head and neighed as if to voice its disapproval.

Prince Eugene patted its neck, at the same time edging closer to his wife. "I know, Max. I'm just as shocked you are. You'd think Arendellians would be a more forgiving people. Such a fuss over a deadly, magical storm."

"We don't wish harm on anyone, Your Highness. We just want things to get back to normal," Nicklas said a little too firmly. Then he turned to Jul and sighed as if to muster as much of that same conviction as possible. "I know how much this means to you, but you won't be of any help to the Queen right now. Look at yourself. You can barely stand on your own."

Jul huffed. "I'll be fine. I know what I'm doing."

"By God, Carlsson, listen to reason for once in your life!" Alvis exclaimed. "The only thing you'll find if you step into that blizzard is your own demise."

Jul didn't back down. She stood as tall as her broken ribs allowed and gave the man a withering look. "I'd rather die trying than serve a criminal who'd do anything to fulfill his desire for power."

The built, tough-looking guard who had so far only glared from a distance, spat on the floor and made a warding sign. "Better a murderer than a witch who cursed her own kin and left us all to rot."

Princess Rapunzel gasped in dismay, looking nearly as appalled as Jul felt. "That is so unfair, Haldor."

But Haldor didn't look the slightest bit apologetic and Jul was done arguing and explaining why they should all care about their Queen.

"You know what? Believe what you will. I know I'm right about this – about her. That's all I need," Jul said hoarsely, facing the guards' hostile gazes. "Thank you for your help. I won't forget it."

She bowed her head stiffly and made to leave but Nicklas stopped her with a light touch on the shoulder.

"Let me come with you." There was a chorus of groans but Nicklas plowed on like he was deaf to his friend's dissent. "If I can't change your mind, then I'll follow you."

"Count us in, too," Princess Rapunzel beamed. "Elsa needs to see she still has people in her corner." The woman's confidence was unwavering, untouched by her shivering or by her husband whining that he "should've seen that coming."

Jul floundered, grasping for an answer. The temptation to say yes was strong in a way that she struggled to comprehend. Three extra sets of trusted eyes and hands could mean the difference between success and failure. However, the thought of endangering these selfless, kindhearted individuals was worse than any threat or pain that awaited her outside. Even if the survival of the entire kingdom was on the line, there was so much more to lose than Jul had realized. And it wasn't a sacrifice she was willing to make.

"No. I'm going alone. You have taken enough risks on my behalf already. Run back to the guests' quarters and wait out the storm there. If it doesn't let up within the hour, grab everyone who'll listen to reason and get as far away from Arendelle as – no, just do it and don't look back," Jul told Nicklas before he could argue. She covered his hand with her own and added in a broken whisper, "Go, I'll be all right. Thank you for everything, my friend."

Anguish tightened Nicklas' features into even sharper lines. Then, with a pained sigh, he let his hand fall away, much to the relief of his friends.

"Okay," he relented and swallowed hard. "Go do what you must. If anyone can convince the Queen to bring back summer, it's you. Just...just come back alive, please."

There was nothing Jul could say to that. She nodded. No last words. No empty promises. Nicklas already knew that she was going to try her hardest to pull off both things at once. That's why he believed in her.

His faith in her abilities was solid, steady, like an invisible armor. Jul donned it and stepped into what remained of the Queen's cell.

"Good luck, Julia. We believe in you!"

The Princess' encouragement was sorely needed. As soon as Jul walked through the door, the angry roars and gelid currents of a tempest assaulted her. Pale morning light and snow blasted in through a gaping hole in the far wall. Jul's temples throbbed as she shielded her eyes and stared at the fjord beyond. A white expanse stretched for miles in each direction. Like a frozen inferno, it swallowed everything it touched; the castle, the village, the mountains.

Alvis had been right. Finding someone in there would be impossible. Jul couldn't tell where the fjord ended and the sky began. She'd need hours if not days to cover all that ground on her own. Unless…

She squinted through walls of snow and swirling sleet. Magic – that was her ally. If she used it as a guide to reach the eye of the storm, she had a feeling the Queen would be right at its center.

Jul picked her way over rubble and the mangled remains of two metal gauntlets. On the other side of the opening, gale-force winds raged without respite, shoving her from all angles like countless invisible hands. The deeper she ventured into the storm, the harder she struggled to keep upright and make progress. Still, Jul put one foot in front of the other, hunched over, shaking from a combination of cold and exhaustion.

On either side of her, half-sunk vessels poked out of the fjord's frozen waters like dark skeletons. Their exposed hulls and masts swayed with every burst of wind, setting off a chain of ominous groans and cracks both above and below the water's surface.

Jul hurried past them until she had an unimpeded view of the grounds. Her heaving chest tightened as she spun in a circle to scan her surroundings. All she could see was a gray and desolate wasteland ravaged by vicious winds that kept changing direction at breakneck speed.

Then, a roaring, whooshing sound rolled across the fjord.

Startled, Jul looked up. Her mouth went dry. Something was hurtling toward her faster than an avalanche. It was a wave made out of mist so thick and so high that Jul couldn't see its crest.

With or without a fully functioning body, there was no outrunning such magic. The fjord itself groaned like a ship on the verge of coming apart at its passage. Jul prayed she wouldn't crack like the ice beneath her feet. She squeezed her eyes shut and braced for impact.

Within seconds the wave hit. Jul felt it pass right through her, soft like a mournful sigh. It didn't leave pain in its wake but a trail of cold that sunk its teeth deep into Jul's bones.

Shuddering, Jul opened her eyes and couldn't help a grunt of surprise. Gone were the raging winds, the sleet and the rumble of the storm. Somehow the wave had swept it all away before dissolving into thin air, exposing the damage that the storm had wrought on the kingdom.

A haunted and resounding stillness echoed among the ships now. Magic hung thick in the air, so thick that Jul could see it with her own eyes.

There were thousands of snowflakes floating in mid-air. They glinted like miniature stars, so beautiful and so out of place amid the destruction.

Although time seemed to have slowed to a stop, Jul didn't let the stunning magical display affect her. Magic wouldn't act this way unless something had happened to the Queen. That's how her powers had behaved so far. Jul was no magic expert but she still felt the bone-chilling cold of that wave going through her. If this was indeed a cry for help, she had to get moving.

A quick look at the fjord told Jul where to find the closest vantage point. Without a second thought she took off running, fighting down the pain that traveled up her spine with every step.

After what felt like miles of torture, Jul finally made it past a line of stranded vessels. She stopped, light-headed and panting for breath. So many black spots peppered her vision that she could barely keep her balance, let alone spot a person among a long strip of land.

Just when Jul though she'd hit another dead end, she heard a sound that sent her stomach plummeting like a cannon ball into the freezing waters below. It was a sound she recognized all too well; the ringing and scraping of a sword sliding from its scabbard.

The world spun and lurched as Jul whirled around, making snowflakes bounce off her uniform. The fjord was a dull blur of color but Jul spotted it at once, a tiny drop of turquoise blue glowing in the distance like a warped star.

Even before her vision returned, Jul knew she was too late. The Queen was down on her hands and knees, head hanging. Worse yet, she wasn't alone on the ice. Prince Hans approached cautiously from behind with slow, measured steps worthy of a skilled assassin. The sword Jul had heard sing moments ago was in his hand, poised to strike.

In that moment Jul shouldered all her pain and started running, scrambling over frozen water to get to the Queen in time. She pushed her body well beyond its limits, yet it wasn't enough. The blade was moving faster than she was. Jul tried shouting and screaming, anything to buy herself enough time to stop the attack, but there was no more air in her lungs to spare when the Prince raised his sword arm to finish off his victim.

Then, out of nowhere, a blue and purple shape dashed between him and the Queen. With a stab of horror, Jul recognized Princess Anna instantly, despite her now-white braids and the bluish tint to her skin. The younger woman was visibly limping but she was very much alive and determined to protect her sister with nothing but her hide and infinite courage. She threw up a hand as if she meant to stop the blade barehanded and screamed.

"No!"

The desperation in her voice went through Jul like another icy wave. She couldn't let this be the end. No way was she watching Prince Hans kill both women in one single blow. She hadn't survived torture just to be the third dead body to land on the pile.

All the fear and guilt that had been weighing Jul down dissolved. She put on one last burst of speed and jumped between the women and the Prince's downward slash, her arms open wide to cover as much of their bodies as possible.

When steel struck, Jul had but a moment of relief before pain exploded through her. The blade cut into her flesh then traced a line of pure fire between her shoulder blades, making her breath go out in a choked gasp.

The flames consumed her from within, blinding her vision, clouding her thoughts, seizing her muscles.

For a long moment Jul was weightless, then she fell face forward onto the ice and darkness swallowed everything.

Chapter Text

More words. Her mind begged for them over and over. Correct, wise, educated, proper, apologetic words. A leader's words.

The clock behind the desk ticked on incessantly. Its greedy, hungry hands devoured second after second with rhythmic, cadenced precision.

There was no hope of keeping up. Her eyes wouldn't let her, no matter how many times she rubbed the sleep away.

Soon the words on the writing paper were swimming instead of multiplying. They blurred into one another, twisting into unreadable swirls that melted into liquid, swelling darkness.

Only a muted drip, drip, drip persisted, slow and steady, until fat drops began to fall and red bloomed into the dark.

Elsa jolted awake, her heartbeat pulsing in her fingertips. She sat up with a shuddering breath and grimaced, taking in the sight of yet another ruined document that was now frosted over where her hands had rested on the paper.

With a flick of her wrist, her magic dispelled. The giant splotch didn't. Like an unblinking black eye, it stayed on the ruined page, glaring at her.

Elsa leaned back in her chair, stifling the urge to crumple up the paper and fling it across the room. This was the third one in a row she'd had to discard. Yet another fifteen minutes of her life she wasn't getting back. The thought of starting over and drafting the whole thing again almost repulsed her. One more minute of writing and she was going to lose it. She should have called it a night hours ago, before she'd started misspelling Arendelle and who knew what else.

As she'd dozed off, the study had grown darker still. It must be late, much later than it had been last night, when she'd clocked in after yet another torturous day spent juggling desk work and meetings. The candles that Anna and Olaf had lit on every flat surface of the room had all burned to stumps. Only her reading lamp had survived her long hours. Its dim light flickered, casting moving shadows over her father's mahogany desk—her desk now, as scary as it sounded. Beside it, a tall pile of missives, documents, and reports sat unread on the dark, polished wood. Somehow, it seemed to have doubled in size since she'd looked at it last.

Elsa stared at the heavy stack morosely before setting down her quill and resting her head in her hands. No matter how many hours of hard work she put in, there was never an end in sight. There were always new letters coming in, reports that required her immediate attention, endless meetings with her Council and with guests. And all of that took priority over family time, over earning back the trust of her subjects. Unless she gave up on sleep, there was no other way she could stay on top of everything.

For a moment, Elsa contemplated ringing for a maid. With some coffee and a few bites of food in her, she could make up for lost time. Maybe get a head start on some of the tasks and duties that awaited her on the morrow, if only she could get her mind to cooperate instead of distracting her with other matters. Anna would be none the wiser. If there was one thing Elsa could rely on, was her sister's ability to sleep through a hurricane.

No sooner had she made up her mind, though, than her gaze fell on Doctor Alfredsen's latest report.

Elsa's stomach tightened. She'd lost count of how many times she'd found herself going over it already, despite the long sentences full of medical jargon and the physician's poor use of punctuation. Its content was the same as it had been that morning and the day before it.

No change.

Anna had said as much over dinner, in between bites of seared salmon. When pressed for more details, she'd gone quiet and fixed Elsa with a fond smile. All she'd said was that worrying so much wouldn't do anyone any good, that time and rest were part of the healing process, too.

As the hours turned into days, though, Elsa was finding it harder than ever to trust the process. This prolonged lack of improvement haunted her. It stewed in the back of her mind like an insistent, nagging voice as she went about her duties. By now she'd learned that leaving the office for a quick visit was the only way to make it shut up, yet for one reason or another, she'd kept putting it off as though she'd ever let herself take a break between one letter and the next.

Elsa glanced at the door then back at the ever-growing stack of papers demanding her attention, feeling torn and without reason, too. This shouldn't even be a choice to begin with. The kingdom came first. And besides, there was nothing she could do that she hadn't done or tried already.

Except it didn't seem to matter. Not to the little voice that had been whispering nonsense in her ear for days and would not shut up until she did what it asked.

As quietly as possible, Elsa pushed back from the desk and got to her feet. She stretched some of the stiffness from her neck and back muscles before tiptoeing to the long, upholstered couch that faced away from the door.

From the depth of its dark cushions came a soft snore, followed by a burst of unintelligible words. Elsa pressed her fingers to her lips.

Anna lay sprawled across the couch with her mouth wide open, Olaf curled up sleeping at her feet. A thin line of drool dribbled down her chin and her toes wriggled whenever a snowflake from Olaf's personal flurry landed on her bare skin.

Warmth flooded Elsa's chest. Her two unlikely guardians had once again insisted on keeping her company while she worked. This had meant, of course, anything but the peaceful sort of companionship one expected while drafting tedious letters and poring over complex charts. Olaf had trouble keeping still—or quiet for that matter. Her little snowman had the eyes of a baby seeing the world for the first time. Everything was new and exciting to him. Anna's attempt to keep him busy with board games and some of their favorite childhood stories had only worked for so long before boredom had set in and lulled them both to sleep.

Elsa watched them for a bit, each second more precious than she could put into words. To think they were here with her in the study after years of solitude, made every minute spent at her desk feel worthwhile. They were the reason she worked without pause. At some point this bad spell would have to pass if she kept at it long enough, and then she'd finally have enough time to dedicate to her family.

Even though she'd promised Anna she would make up for lost time, so far their bonding time had consisted of taking their meals together and pretending these long hours in the study actually counted for something. She saw the strain it put on her sister to watch from the sidelines. As much as she tried to be patient and supportive, Anna was her usual exuberant self. Stillness disagreed with her almost as much as steamed vegetables and she had been cooped up in the palace for way too long already, paying for mistakes that weren't her own. If anyone deserved to enjoy every good thing life had to offer, it was her. Even if the thing she wanted, happened to be a tall and unwashed ice harvester with trolls and a reindeer for a family.

After draping a light blanket over her sister, Elsa extinguished the lamp with a flick of her wrist.

"Goodnight, my darlings," she whispered before slipping out into the hallway.

There was a rustle of armor and fabric as the two guards posted outside scrambled back into position. They straightened their spears and snapped to attention.

"Your Majesty," they said in unison, their voices tight with tension and jarringly loud in the empty corridor.

So much for a quiet exit.

Elsa cringed and shuffled back a step. Ever since that horrible morning at the ice palace, the sight of these ugly, green uniforms set her nerves on edge. It didn't help that she could see her same unease mirrored in the guards' wide eyes whenever she was forced to be around them. A good many of them still tensed up and paled at the tiniest movement of her hands.

Captain Svendsen had waved away her concerns, blaming his men's behavior on inexperience. And to add insult to injury, he had insisted that she adopt more stringent security measures, though she couldn't see what good they would do when all his men tolerated her presence even less than she did theirs.

All except one.

Elsa bade the guards a brisk goodnight and rushed past them into the corridor.

"Your—Your Majesty!" One of the men called after her, his voice wavering. "We have direct orders from the captain to stay with–"

"I'm the one you take orders from first and foremost, gentlemen." Elsa swiveled around sharply to see both men pale under her stern gaze. Their fear cut deep, fueling her anger. "I don't recall asking the captain for private detail. Your job here is solely to stand guard, and I suggest you continue doing so. Princess Anna won't be leaving the study until the morning and I'd feel better knowing my guards are here, keeping watch, while I retire for the night."

The guards exchanged a short, panicked look before the oldest of the two nodded grimly. "As you wish, Your Majesty."

Without a backward glance, Elsa hurried for the stairs. The purple carpet swallowed her quick footsteps but there was nothing to be done about the bitter taste the exchange had left in her mouth. With it, came a growing sense of discomfort, an itch under her skin. Even the familiar, thick silence of the upper floors felt unusually stifling. Elsa felt it pressing around her like a constricting hug, the way it often had when she'd been trapped and alone in her quarters at night, believing she actually was the monster her soldiers saw when they looked at her.

When the first pinpricks of magic raced down her arms, it was too late to stop them. Elsa balled her hands into fists and quickened her pace. Within seconds she was rushing across the foyer and through the main doors, startling yet another couple of guards posted outside.

Their salutes were drowned out by the rapid clacking of her heels on the cobblestones. Elsa prayed she still gave off some semblance of composure while something inside her rattled, trying to break free. Breathless, she took a sharp turn, away from the fountains and the memory of her citizens screaming in fear. If she didn't get away from everything and everyone, she might end up hurting somebody again.

Only when the looming shadow of the chapel fell over her, did Elsa dare slow down. A whisper of cool night air blew across the empty courtyard, soothing her, slowing down her racing heartbeat. With every slow inhale, a thorn of fear slid free from her heart and allowed the pressure in her palms to recede.

And that makes three, Elsa thought in dismay, brushing back a stray lock of hair that had escaped her French braid with shaking fingers. This was the third time in as many days that her magic had acted up. The first one had been only hours after the Great Thaw, when she'd found out the barracks' infirmary was full of sick and frostbitten soldiers. Then she'd relapsed the following morning in the middle of a Council meeting. When they'd started listing off everything that her magic had broken or damaged, the dam had broken. She could still see the panicked, frightened looks on the councilors' faces when ice had blasted from her hands right down the middle of the table. Small wonder they still questioned her sanity and her ability to lead the country, even if nobody dared say it out loud.

Only her sister and the closest members of her staff hadn't lost faith in her. They kept assuring her that with time and practice she would adjust to her new life as Queen and to her powers. They didn't seem to understand how impatient the Council and her subjects were for her to start figuring things out. And how to blame them. After all she'd put them through, they had every right to be. Arendelle was in dire need of a strong and reliable ruler, one that didn't balk or turn into a weather hazard at the first sign of trouble. Because as much as she tried to control it, her magic was still wild and unpredictable. She couldn't always count on having Anna around to keep the worst of it at bay.

Under the shadow of a tall archway, a set of black double doors stood open. Elsa nodded distractedly to the guards posted at the entrance and hurried past them into the barracks.

Two long hallways led off the entrance hall in opposite directions, branching off left and right every few feet or so. It was nothing short of a labyrinth of identical rooms and passageways that twisted in straight lines without rhyme or reason that Elsa could discern. Not that she was likely to forget where the Captain's quarters were any time soon, given recent events; up two short flight of stairs, at the end of a narrow, windowless corridor.

Elsa eyed the brand new carpet with relief before taking the stairs. There was no blood trail to follow tonight, yet the same prickle of apprehension spread inside her as she ascended these steps. Something about the barracks didn't agree with her. It never had. Even as a young girl, she'd always preferred the gardens or the library to the noisy and charged atmosphere of this mazelike building. Her father, however, had been very attached to this place. He'd often spent hours watching his guards train in the courtyard, discussed military strategies with his officers, only to stop by Captain Svendsen's office for a drink and a chat. Their friendship had survived every secret and hardship that the kingdom's isolation had forced on the castle staff. It had survived her parents' passing, too, until her magic had come along and called everything into question.

For the third night in a row, Elsa found the same tall and serious-looking guard posted outside the Captain's guest room. The dark bags under his eyes had grown bigger if possible, which could only mean his constant presence was no accident of a faulty shift schedule but a choice on his part.

Elsa didn't have to guess at his reasons for wanting to keep guard night after night. She remembered him vividly from those frantic, endless moments after she'd broken her spell over Arendelle. She remembered his tears, the despair in his eyes as he'd stormed into the Captain's quarters with his friends and the Coronan royals in tow. She remembered his anger at the Captain, every raw and terrible accusation he'd hurled at his superior. In the tight confines of the hallway, his grief had cut deeper than Prince Hans' sword.

All that pain had stayed with Elsa while they'd waited and waited for what had felt like hours.

Now here they both were, three days later. Waiting still.

The guard saluted her with a curt nod. Although his bleary eyes regarded her with a touch more intensity than usual, he showed no sign of fear as he stepped forward to open the door for her. In fact, he almost seemed eager to let her in.

Elsa wished he'd given her some time to gather herself first. Instead, a soft sliver of light spilled across her face.

An instant later, a gruff voice called from within. "Your Majesty. What a pleasant surprise."

The door swung open to reveal Captain Svendsen sitting alone in near darkness. The senior officer gave her a tired smile before pushing himself stiffly to his feet, the chair groaning underneath his weight. He straightened his uniform jacket and inclined his head. "I'm glad I stayed a bit longer. What brings you here at this hour?"

Elsa hesitated a moment on the threshold before stepping inside. Her gaze roamed the tiny bedchamber wall to wall as though its lack of decorations and furniture wasn't something painfully familiar. Someone had placed a vase of fresh-cut flowers on the round table beneath the room's only window. Their sweet fragrance wafted up in waves, mixed in with a salt summer breeze coming in from the fjord that made the curtains flutter lazily back and forth. In one corner of the room, atop an old plain dresser, sat a brand new and neatly folded uniform. Its dark green fabric looked almost black in the dim light of a single candle that burned dangerously low on the nightstand. Captain Svendsen's big frame hid the nearby bed and its occupant from view but not the vials and clean bandages that littered every inch of its surface.

"I was…" Elsa trailed off. Too many answers came to mind yet none that made any real sense. Or that she was comfortable sharing. "I read Doctor Alfredsen's latest report but I still wanted to…see for myself before I turned in for the night."

The captain's smile wavered. He twisted to look at the young woman lying in bed behind him, letting Elsa catch a glimpse of red hair spread across a white pillow.

"So did I." Exhaustion bled from his words and from his bedraggled appearance. The last few days had taken a toll on him. The imposing man Elsa remembered standing proudly by her father's side, seemed to be crushed under the weight of his latest decisions. "It's all true, I'm afraid, even the boring bits."

"No sign of improvement, then?" Elsa asked, rubbing her hands down her forearms.

"None that I can see, no." The captain passed a hand over his face as if he was trying to smooth out the myriad worry lines creasing his brow. "But then, Doctor Alfredsen said it's only a matter of when, not if. We must be patient and trust that time is the only remedy, even if some of us are not very good at playing the waiting game."

Elsa couldn't bring herself to smile. That was only half of it, and they both knew it. Waiting was their only option simply because there was nothing else they could do.

With a steadying breath, Elsa sidestepped the captain until the woman came into view. Her sleeping form was bathed in warm, flickering light. The candle's dying flame glowed the same vivid red as her hair and brought out the light dusting of freckles on her pale complexion. Elsa ran her eyes over gaunt, sharp features that had effortlessly become familiar, following every strong, defined line to a small scar just under the jawline. As she did so, she couldn't help but remember what her soldier had looked like when she'd been carried broken and bleeding into the room. Too many fresh cuts and bruises to count, blood dripping from the back of her tattered uniform, a swollen face spotted black and blue and completely devoid of life. She'd been a little more than a corpse without a name and without a reason. The damage had run so far and so deep that Princess Rapunzel had used up all of her sun magic to mend cuts and broken bones, to heal every inch of swollen, bluish skin.

Only one wound had defied the Princess' powers, as well as every subsequent attempt to complete what Elsa could only describe as a miracle.

"What about the scar?" Elsa asked, though she knew the answer already.

Captain Svendsen shook his head. Elsa followed his gaze to a long and narrow spot in between the woman's shoulder blades. There, under a clean, silk nightshirt, was a thick bump of bandages that wrapped around most of her torso.

"I'm told the Princess of Corona tried her magic song again this morning without success. Whether we like it or not, that wound is meant to stay. The rest is up to Julia." The Captain paused, watching his soldier with unwavering belief, as if her current state was no more than a temporary inconvenience. "That little scar won't stop her, Your Majesty. You'll see."

Elsa bristled. She wished the captain would stop taking the woman's recovery for granted. She'd seen that cut firsthand, the open wound steaming in the freezing air. It had been anything but little. The more Captain Svendsen insisted that his soldier would bounce back from torture and a near-death experience like nothing had happened, the more Elsa believed that no one – not even her most loyal subject – would want to stay on the payroll one second longer after such a terrible ordeal.

"How can you be so sure? Our choices have caused this woman terrible pain and suffering. It's a wonder she made it this far alive, given the treatment she received." And that wasn't to mention the need to have a guard posted outside at all times.

The Captain closed his eyes for a second, his jaw locked as tight as the fists at his sides. "Julia wouldn't stop being a guard if you stripped her of her uniform and told her to go back home yourself, Your Majesty. Her love for the job is unrivaled. She'll come out of this stronger than before, I have no doubt about it."

A sudden but unmistakable rustle of sheets startled them both.

With a soft sigh, the woman stirred. Her legs shifted beneath the sheets, her breath quickened. It was as if she'd somehow heard her Captain and meant to prove him right.

Elsa edged closer to the bed, watching on with bated breath, desperate for any sign that this endless wait was finally over.

After mumbling something unintelligible into her pillow, however, the soldier's breathing evened out.

Heart deflating, Elsa watched the lean muscles in the woman's shoulders relax. It looked like a bad dream had come and passed yet, somehow, they were all trapped inside it still.

"Have you given any more thought to my proposition?"

There it was, the question she'd been dreading ever since she'd walked in.

Elsa sighed inwardly, watching the curtains sway with the breeze. That was how she'd been feeling lately, like a thin strip of fabric being twisted and tossed around by opposing currents. Everyone had opinions and suggestions for how she should run her kingdom, for what decisions she should make and why. Every request – be it raising taxes or picking the best location for a new bakery in town – became a reason for conflict between her council members, as they all tried to push through their own political agenda and that of the wealthy families whose interests they pretended not to represent.

Captain Svendsen had gone a step further and completely blindsided her. One second he'd handed in his resignation, the next he'd made an impossible request, conscious that what he asked would pit her against the entire Council if she so much as took it into consideration.

Against her better judgment, Elsa had eventually listened to his pleas. For her father, she'd told herself.

Two days later, her doubts still ran rampant, yet she couldn't seem to override her own foolish notions and choose the safer option.

"I have thought about your proposition, Captain, long and hard, but the Council is pressing me for a decision and I've run out of excuses to delay it," Elsa said, more sharply than she had intended. "Are you certain you don't want to reconsider? You could stay in charge, at least until we're certain that your candidate is willing and ready to take over. If not for me, then do it for my father."

The Captain winced as if she'd struck him and looked away. "Your father would've sent me to the block after what I've done and I would've welcomed it, too. I was supposed to join them on that cursed sea voyage but he convinced me to stay behind so that I could watch over you and your sister. He left me in charge of your safety, Your Majesty. He said I was the only one he trusted," he gritted out. "Ever since they—ever since we lost them, I've done nothing but let you girls down. Just because you refuse to punish me for my crimes and lock me in a dungeon, it doesn't mean I don't belong in there."

"And you think that charging all members of my Royal Guard with treason is going to make things better?"

"What I think is that you deserve to have a fresh start. And for that, you need people you can actually trust by your side. My men – your men – have been idle for so long they started warring with each other. They need a leader to guide them, to inspire them. If we present a weak and divided front now that your powers have put Arendelle on the map, we'll have armies lining up on our doorstep."

Elsa shuddered from head to toe. Her forearms tingled with warning. Mutiny, wars, internal fighting—her reign seemed doomed to a short and miserable life and it had barely even begun. For the most part, the captain made a good point. They did need to repair the cracks in its foundations, and there were many. What he didn't seem to realize, was that his plan would start a chain reaction of protests and worse among the nobility. Instead of closing, these cracks would widen and spread, and before long, their fragile structure would collapse in on itself.

"I know you have so much on your plate already, Queen Elsa," the Captain pressed on, his tone heavy, "but, please, promise me you won't let these mercenaries make this decision for you. With me out of the way, there's nothing they won't do to gain favor with some influential noble family or other. Before you know it, you'll be saddled with a clueless puppet who'll be more than happy to do their bidding in exchange for status and power."

What the Captain said was true, but a puppet wasn't that much worse than someone without proper training who had trouble following orders. Did she really want to trade the support of her Council for a stranger's?

Once again, logic didn't seem to matter. Elsa found herself nodding her consent. "Very well. I'll ask for more time, but that's as much as I can do."

The Captain bowed, relief plain on his face. "That's all I need, Your Majesty. Thank you." He cast one last look at his soldier and took his leave.

When the door had closed behind him, Elsa's shoulders slumped. She rubbed at her temples, hoping the tension building there wouldn't result in yet another headache. Sleep evaded her enough as it was, and when it didn't, work followed her into her dreams, haunting her nightmares.

"I wonder what you'd have to say about all this," Elsa whispered into the silence. "Will you blame me, too, when you find out how much it cost to protect me, when you realize I'm not the woman you think I am?" She looked down at the sleeping guard but no answer came, not even the slightest movement of an eyelid.

Elsa ran a hand through her hair and heaved a deep sigh. There was no sense in staying any longer, not with dawn fast approaching and another long day of meetings on the horizon. Hopefully someone would come knocking on her study door tomorrow morning, and finally lift this crushing weight off her shoulders.

After a quick glance at the door, however, Elsa turned away from it. She ignored the chair and eased herself down on the edge of the bed instead.

For a long moment, she watched the rise and fall of the woman's shoulders, hardly noticing when their breathing fell in sync. Ever so slowly, the day's tension began to ebb away and her magic quieted down, just like it often did when she was with Anna.

"I'm scared, Julia." Elsa spoke softly, hating the slight tremor in her voice. "I keep telling myself to keep it together, that I'll figure out how to fix this mess somehow, that if just I work hard enough, I'll convince everyone that I'm not an evil witch who'll bring ruin to the kingdom. But what if that's not enough?" Elsa pulled her legs up and wrapped her arms around them. "Everyone still looks at me like I'm one second away from either losing control of my magic or blasting them with it. And the more they do, the more I start doubting myself and slipping up. I keep falling back into old habits even though I know now that everything my parents taught me was wrong. I just wish I didn't have to rely so heavily on Anna for support. My sister deserves to have her own life, her own adventures, without having to worry about me setting off a blizzard at any given moment. I just-"

Julia groaned into her pillow as if tangled in her own web of nightmares.

The sound startled Elsa out of her spiraling worries. She sat up in alarm and inched forward, resisting the impulse to lay a calming hand on the soldier.

Julia was breathing hard through her nose. A muscle twitched in her jaw as her fingers curled into the sheets. Even in her dreams, she seemed to be fighting someone or something while struggling into wakefulness. Both her eyelids fluttered as she mumbled something that sounded very much like 'Your Majesty'.

For a breathless moment, it looked like Elsa would finally find out what Julia's eye color was or why it even mattered to begin with.

But too soon the fight was over. It went out of Julia in between a grunt and a sigh, before she slipped back into the clutches of sleep.

Pressing a cool hand to her eyes, Elsa let out a shaky chuckle. "You almost had me there."

During the imaginary struggle, the sheets had ridden down the guard's back. Elsa tucked them back up, taking extra care to avoid contact with the scar and the delicate tissue around it.

From up close, Julia looked younger than her years, vulnerable in a way she probably wouldn't like. Anna had told her what little she knew about Arendelle's first and only female guard; her blunt but friendly demeanor, her love for horses, what she'd done to get into the Royal Guard, her struggles to fit in. In spite of that, Elsa still found it hard to reconcile the unconscious woman before her with the fearless warrior who'd taken on the entire Guard to save her by standing up for what she believed in.

And it was her that Julia had believed in. Without question. Without a shred of reason that Elsa could identify and wrap her head around.

"Everyone keeps telling me I'll know as soon as I meet you why you risked your life to save me. What does that even mean?"

The candle on the nightstand went out with a hiss and left the room in darkness but for a patch of moonlight on the windowsill.

"There's this…feeling I can't seem to shake off that I—that you—" Elsa let out a frustrated groan. Every time she tried to articulate her emotions, her words scattered like frightened animals. "Please, wake up, Julia. Your Queen needs you."

Chapter Text

Sunlight, already. Its golden rays stretched over Nicklas like warm, nimble fingers. They tinted his slumbering world shades of gold and scarlet pain through swollen, closed eyelids.

It must be too soon and yet too late.

The thought of having to open his eyes hurt. His mind already whirred away, though, wide awake to the eerie quiet that surrounded him.

It was a silence that lived and breathed alongside him lately. Nicklas felt it press down on his chest as he tossed away the blankets and crawled off his cot with sluggish energy. He sighed once, deep and loud through his nose, resting his head in his hands, elbows digging into his thighs. The spotted tiles under his bare feet were cool, jogging his memories into less of a jumble.

Last night’s shift replayed in his mind. The drunken crowd at the door. The laughter. Holt’s cruel jokes. His open threats. And then, out of nowhere, the little snowman with his many questions, pulling a worn-out queen by the hand. The smell of his mountains filling his nostrils, crisp as only morning air could ever be.

A part of him wished he’d dreamt it all. Home, the queen, the fear, all this endless waiting - everything that dragged this twisted nightmare into his every waking hour.

Night and day blurred together. Nicklas had lost track of time in the long hours spent alone with only his thoughts for company. There, the silence stretched and grew around him, inside of him. No matter how much he tried to squash it and keep it at bay, it haunted him – hunted him. And the gap from soldier to prey was shrinking faster than Nicklas could run.

Yawning, he quickly threw on his uniform, still wrinkled from his latest night shift. There was no time for anything other than lacing up his boots before he hurried toward the dining hall.

His stomach churned at every step. Anything could’ve happened in those handful of hours he’d been dead to the world. Yet again, Alvis and Morten had ignored his instructions and let him sleep in. Try as he might, though, he couldn’t find it in himself to blame them for worrying about him. He probably looked like a miner who’d lost his way down the tunnels, with bloodshot eyes and bags as big as bruises.

And he wasn’t alone in that.

So many – too many – of his comrades had the same look about them, like the ceiling was about to come down on them and they knew they were trapped inside. Some hid it well, no doubt with the help of a drink or two. Others like Nicklas could not pretend everything was fine, not when his small little world seemed about to burst under the pressure.

Chest tight with apprehension, he crept up to the dining hall, looking like the clumsiest of spies. For a long moment he hung back, breath held, listening closely to the loud, familiar hum that spilled through the open doors.

Lunch was being served, the smell of lapskaus thick in the air. Many of the men sitting in his line of sight sat hunched over their plates, making quick work of their meal.

Nicklas craned his neck to get a better view. Several tables were empty save for a few seats. He remembered Alvis telling him in between shift changes that many of their foreign guests were grabbing their crews and retinues and fleeing Arendelle in all haste. Blending in with rough-looking sailors was no longer an option. There was no way his six-foot-two frame would slip unnoticed in there now. He might as well paint a practice target on his back. That’s what he got for daring to burst the toxic bubble around the Royal Guard.

The church bells struck midday as he pressed his back flat against the wall. It didn’t matter if anyone saw him standing there like a paranoid statue. He had to know what he’d woken up to. Did the limbo still hold or had they run out of time?

 Eyes closed, he listened for the same voices that had taken residence in his nightmares. Barely a second passed before his ears latched onto an animated conversation that often broke into rounds of boisterous laughter. Nicklas let the few words he could make out wash over him like he’d done so many other times before. What mattered was that Holt and his cronies sat at their usual table in the heart of the dining hall, being their usual obnoxious selves while they waited for news like the rest of them.

Time was still on their side.

Nicklas opened his eyes and took a steadying breath or two. It seemed like something – or maybe someone – was keeping the queen from choosing their next captain, even though Holt kept assuring everyone it was a done deal. Whatever the case, Nicklas felt immensely grateful for the delay. More time for them meant more time for Julia too. As much they’d planned and prepared in the last few days, they would have but moments to gather their things and flee once the Queen caved in to pressure from nobles and councilmen alike. Holt’s reign of terror was coming. It was only a matter of when.

Despite his growling stomach, Nicklas left the smell of stewed beef behind him and retraced his steps to the main entrance. Alvis and Morten would get it. He loved their small table and their company, he truly did. But right now, his energy was better spent thinking his way out of this mess than braving the crowd just to trigger Holt’s childish insults or worse.

The guards out and about were few and far between. Nicklas nodded to well-known faces that now watched him with a little more sharpness and curiosity than he would’ve liked. Not a day went by without him overhearing blown-up versions of their prison break and their battle with Holt’s right-hand man. Even his altercation with Svendsen outside the Captain’s office had become public knowledge. Now everywhere he went, eyes followed him and his friends with keen interest. Morten and Haldor had embraced their rise in popularity with an ease Nick couldn’t fathom, ignoring Alvis’ warnings that the spotlight would only come back to harm them.

So far, most of their fellow guards had only been hungry for gossip. But there was another small faction of them gaining traction, that thought he could use his most recent connections to bring Holt’s grip on the guard to an end.

More than the how, the question was, “Why him?” Just because he didn’t want Holt to be the next captain of the Guard, it didn’t mean he had any desire to meddle in things far beyond his paygrade. He couldn’t even keep his own friends out of danger. The last thing he needed was to have any more people suffer the consequences of his poor decisions.

Halfway up the first flight of stairs, Nicklas could already tell it was Haldor’s turn to hold down the fort. Smiling, he followed his friend’s skillful whistling deep into the captain’s quarters.

Inside the windowless corridor, the smell of humid, stale air almost made his lungs burn. Lamps guttered in their sconces, casting little light and way too much heat.

Haldor stood lounging against the wall, his arms crossed behind his head while his eyes stared holes into the chipped ceiling. He looked like he’d welcome a fight rather than have to endure one more minute on guard duty.

Worry and guilt warred within Nicklas. It pained him so much, having to ask his friends to pick up the slack. But it couldn’t be helped. When Svendsen had put him in charge of Julia’s safety, he’d turned to the only people he was dead sure would carry out the orders.

As soon as Haldor spotted him, his mouth split into a toothy grin. He stepped away from the wall, flexing and unflexing his toned biceps as if he’d forgotten how to use them after hours of sheer boredom. “Back already? Your shift doesn’t start for at least another hour. Besides, your lady has company. As usual.”

Nicklas’ smile wilted. All these constant insinuations, the unspoken questions and their jokes had run his patience dry. He was done having to justify his friendship with Julia, to them or to anybody else.

“Did something happen while I was gone?”

“Yeah, the same, usual big pile of nothing, brother.” Haldor made a face and flopped back against the wall. He gave Nicklas a quick once-over as if to check for bruises - or food more likely. “Why don’t you pop your head in? Maybe tell them Coronans to stop making such a racket if they don’t plan on inviting me in.” He huffed as if the exclusion offended him deeply. “Whatever happened to royals being all…stiff and proper? Did we only get the weird ones?”

Nicklas shrugged distractedly. Every time he stood before this door, he saw it all play out once again. It took all his effort not to let those cursed moments on the ice overcome him. The present was enough punishment already without him having to relieve his failures on a loop.

But just then, a melody seeped in through the door. Like a healing balm, it spread on his aching heart with the same soothing power that had kept him sane and hoping in his darkest hour.

 Haldor groaned. “Again with this tune? You need to tell that tiny lady to just give up and stop wasting her sweet voice on Carlsson. There’s no waking up that one up. Woman only listens to herself.”

Nicklas held onto the closing notes, deflating when nothing but silence followed. He couldn’t help but wish Haldor was right, even if his harshness stung. It would be just like Julia not to respond to the Princess’ healing magic because she wanted to wake up on her own time, on her own terms. But he also knew Julia would never waste precious time lying in bed, not when her dreams of a free Arendelle was waiting at her fingertips.

“Just because something isn’t working, it doesn’t mean we should stop trying,” Nicklas said before rapping his knuckles sharply on the door. “Don’t worry. The sooner Julia wakes, the sooner I can set you free.”

“Can you?” Haldor asked, one black eyebrow raised skeptically. He scoffed as if the notion amused him. “Well, in that case don’t let me stop you.” He leaned back against the wall, hands behind his head. “Make sure to grab me a sandwich on the way out if the Princess hasn’t polished them off already. Oh, and watch out for the lizard. I don’t trust anything that crawls.”

Before Nicklas could ask, the door was thrown wide open. Sunlight poured over him in a blinding flash.

“Nick! My very tall and very wise friend!” Prince Eugene greeted him with a wicked grin. He wrapped an arm around Nicklas’ shoulder despite their height difference and all but dragged him inside. “You are right on time. We were just about to get started on a very effective technique to awaken Julia.”

“You were?” Hope rekindled within Nicklas. At this point, he would’ve gladly walked miles on his knees if someone had told him it would get Julia to open her eyes again.

He inclined his head to Princess Rapunzel and Princess Anna, who sat side by side by the bed. Then his eyes found Julia’s sleeping form. Her skin had regained its healthy color by now, but the fresh batch of bandages on the nightstand reminded him they were not out of the woods yet.

Princess Rapunzel sniffed. “No, Eugene, we were not.” She glared at her husband hard enough to make him wince, then accepted a purple handkerchief from Princess Anna with a thankful smile. “Don’t try dragging Nick into this. You know very well he’s too kind to refuse. Besides, my vote counts double.”

Prince Eugene made a sound of discontent as he let go of Nicklas. “Oh, come on, Sunshine! It’ll work, I promise. It has on me, hasn’t it? Twice! And I’m still alive despite how gross and painful that whole ordeal was.”

“Wow, I’m so intrigued right now.” Princess Anna shuffled forward in her chair, eyes wide and bright. “What is it? Some kind of dangerous Coronan ritual? Or maybe mind control - no, wait, that can’t be right. Julia is asleep – oh my God!” she gasped, sitting up taller. “Do we have to, like, stick tiny needles into her body to restore her energy flow or something?”

Silence followed. It often did whenever Princess Anna went off on a tangent. Nicklas had never heard anyone cram so many words in so little time.

“It’s nothing quite so…odd, but I appreciate the enthusiasm.” Prince Eugene seemed on the verge of rehashing whatever his plan had been, then he let out a small sigh and knelt beside his wife. He gave her a lopsided smile that softened as he placed a hand on her shoulder. “Look, I’d really love for your magic to be the key, winning factor here. But right now, it doesn’t seem to be doing much of anything except tire you out and upset you every time it fails to work.”

Princess Rapunzel pouted and crossed her arms over her chest. “Of course it’s upsetting me. Julia seems to have grown immune to my powers. I can’t even get that ugly scar off her back. Ugh, I swear that thing is mocking me.”

“Don’t beat yourself up, Lady Rapunzel. If it wasn’t for you, there’d be nothing for us to do but grieve.”

He’d run every possible scenario in his head multiple times. Rapunzel’s song had brought Julia back from the brink of death. Not only that, but there was no trace left of the bloody corpse Svendsen had carried through the door. Julia’s skin had lost its deathly pallor and regained a rosier, healthier tint. A bar of soap and a basin of water had done the rest. Clean, fast asleep and out of her uniform, Julia looked nothing like the tough and strong-minded woman that lived in his mind whenever he needed a kick in the butt. Every breath she took now was a testament to how powerful the young princess was. Nicklas no longer took even the softest one for granted.

“Nick has got a point,” Princess Anna said, waving a half-eaten sandwich in his direction for emphasis. “Besides, I’m pretty sure Jul has plenty of scars already. It’s not like one more cut will make her want to quit the guard and leave Arendelle forever like Elsa seems to believe.”

Rapunzel’s face fell. Nicklas stared in disbelief. Leave it to the queen to horribly misjudge his friend’ strength of character. Julia would be aghast at the thought of anyone entertaining that notion.

“That will never happen, my lady. Trust me. Julia will wear that scar like a badge of honor. We’ll have to chain her to that bed once she wakes up or she’ll run straight back to work, whether the doctor says she can or not.”

The Princess dabbed at the corner of her eyes. She nodded and gave them a fond smile that brightened up the room like sunlight on a cloudy day. “Thank you, guys. You’re right. Some things are stronger than magic.”

Princess Anna hummed in approval. “You know, if you’re up for a challenge, you should try your healing song on Hans’ rotten heart. He’s probably got a gaping hole in there somewhere. After lying, scheming and nearly killing a few dozen people – and my sister! – he has the nerve to demand to see a doctor over a broken nose. Pathetic.” She dropped the last bite of her sandwich into her mouth and closed her eyes in bliss.

Not even the mention of Prince Hans kept Nicklas’ stomach from grumbling in protest. He’d eaten his last meal forever ago in between shifts, just after Doctor Alfredsen latest visit.

He didn’t get a chance to mourn the lapskaus, however. A serving tray sat on the small, round table by the open window, a lone tuna sandwich waiting on its shining surface.

Bless you, Magnus.

While his companions discussed the merits of pranking the prince – something he was also strongly in favor of – Nicklas stepped towards the plate like he might an oasis in the desert. How silly of him to worry about food. No matter what time of day it was, something delicious always sat waiting on the table for Julia’s visitors and guards; coffee at night, tea and pastries in the morning, tasty snacks for a quick, easy meal on the go.

Despite being confined to his kitchen most of the day, Magnus never failed to make his presence felt. His affection for Julia sang in every bite, in every drop of hot brew that his staff brought Nicklas after dark. His simple yet soulful cooking reminded Nicklas of home, of his mother’s hearty meals after long hours in the mines. A flicker of warm light after hours in pitch darkness. So far Magnus’ dishes hadn’t been enough to rouse Julia from her slumber, but what they never failed to awaken was Nicklas’ appetite.

The lone tuna sandwich seemed to call his name and lure him closer. Nicklas gave in, hunger taking over. Haldor would have to wait for the next batch, assuming he hadn’t gorged himself on those very same sandwiches when the tray had been brought up to Julia’s room loaded with perfectly cut squares.

“Eugene!”

Nicklas startled, his fingertips inches from soft, dark bread stuffed with cured tuna. He swivelled around at the note of alarm in the Princess’s voice and froze.

Prince Eugene hovered over Jul, a look of pure concentration on his face. Arms extended, he looked about ready to chant and summon a great, evil power.

Instead, something green and compact, darted out of his cupped hands and scurried up Jul’s arm and shoulder. Once there it stopped, its shiny small body poised to strike. Could that be the lizard Haldor had warned him about? What was he supposed to do?

“Let’s show them how it’s done, Pascal.”

The green thing that looked like no lizard Nicklas had ever seen, acted right on cue. It opened its tiny mouth and its tongue struck, lightning fast, going in and out of Julia’s ear.

Nicklas shuddered, too stunned to do anything but gape in shock.

“Yikes! That was so gross,” Princess Anna said, looking excited rather than disgusted. “Are we sure that’s safe?”

“Yes!”

“No!”

Both Coronans cried out at the same time. They glared at one another, but it was Julia they turned to at once, any animosity forgotten.

Seconds stretched on in a silence that Nicklas would have thought impossible in present company.

Goosebumps rippled up his arms and neck as Julia’s shoulder twitched. Her brow scrunched by a fraction, just like it did whenever she thought he’d said something stupid. It was enough to make his breath hitch. It made him want to shout something foolish and dare her to open her eyes simply for the sake of correcting him.

But the moment passed. Julia remained unconscious, caught in total darkness, dragging Nicklas’ hope under with her next breath.

“Well, we can’t say we didn’t try, Pascal.” The prince let out a dramatic, defeated sigh. “I suppose Julia must be a lot less sensitive to pain than I am.”

Rapunzel made a sound between a sigh and a snort. “Oh, that is quite the understatement.” Eyes narrowed to slits, she held out a hand, palm up, until the prince grudgingly deposited the lizard – Pascal – back in her care. “I don’t want you two getting any more of your brilliant ideas. Julia should rest and recover, not be shocked back into wakefulness.”

Her husband scowled in response. He crossed his arms and sulked to the opposite side of the room, muttering to himself that nobody ever understood his genius.

While Nicklas gulped down yet another dose of foolish hope, Princess Anna steered the conversation in a different, safer direction.

“How are the repairs on your vessel coming along? From my window, the docks look like one giant shipyard, but Elsa won’t let me go snoop. Says it’s too dangerous.” The Princess scoffed and rolled her eyes. “Please. Like I didn’t also throw myself in front of a sword, like…yesterday.”

Rapunzel let out a nervous chuckle. “Yeah, that might actually be why Elsa is being a little overprotective. She almost lost you too. Besides, she is your big sister. Keeping you safe is part of the job.”

Nicklas perked up. Safety was definitely a concern for the queen, but it was probably the threat of riots that had forced her to keep Princess Anna away from the village so far. However smart a decision that was.

“You’re not missing out, trust me. We went to check on the Lantern this morning and I still have sawdust everywhere. And by everywhere, I mean –”

“Someone thought it would be a good idea to sunbathe on deck while our crew was sanding the new railings,” the princess explained with a dry smile as her husband sullenly scratched his scalp. “But yeah, the repairs are almost done. Our captain says that, at this rate, the vessel could be ready to sail as early as next morning.”

“Whoa. That’s – That is so soon.” Princess Anna let out a shaky chuckle. A moment passed before she added, “That’s great…right?”

Echoes of Nicklas’ own distress rippled across Princess Anna’s face. He’d been dreading this moment too, ever since the repairs on the Coronan vessel had begun. Rapunzel and Eugene had turned out to be everything but the kind of people Nicklas had grown to despise – the rich, haughty, selfish bullies who waved their status around like a whip. Positive energy followed them around, attracting people like magnets. People like him. Even grumpy old souls like Julia had fallen prey to their charm and kindness. Once the Lantern sailed for warmer waters toward Corona, this little bubble would burst and leave them all at the mercy of Holt and his decisions.

Even the smile on Princess Rapunzel’s face didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Yeah, it’s… great. I mean, we both miss home but…” she trailed off, looking at Julia. “I want to be here when she wakes up. But only if Elsa is okay with us sticking around a little bit longer.”

Nicklas thanked his lucky stars when Princess Anna squealed in delight, almost bouncing on the edge of her seat. “Don’t you worry about Elsa. She’s been so busy lately that Olaf and I have to guilt her into leaving the office. Besides, you’re by far her favorite people right now. All the other guests do is complain about literally everything and then blame my sister for whatever’s wrong in their lives. I don’t know how Elsa endures it without throwing a paperweight at somebody’s head.”

“That sounds intense. No wonder we haven’t seen her around lately.”

“I wouldn’t even bother showing up at the office if I had dozens of pampered nobles pounding on my door, asking why the magic they’re so afraid of won’t fix their ships.” Eugene grimaced. “Maybe the time has come for Elsa to take counsel from a true expert on royal duties.”

“You mean an expert at running away from them?” Rapunzel asked him, arching an eyebrow.

The prince tsked. “Oh, Sunshine. Running is for amateurs. Elsa needs to learn professional, avoidance strategies if she wants her work to be sustainable. Do you think Julia wants to wake up to find nothing’s changed and her beloved Queen is once again holed up in her office all day, unable to enjoy life and spend time with her sister?”

“No.”

Nicklas stiffened as if that single syllable had slapped him right across the face. His vision narrowed until the figure on the bed was all he could see.

 “That’s right!” Prince Eugene continued with fervor. “No more long office hours and – wait a minute. Who said that?”

“Eugene!”

Rapunzel jumped to her feet, one hand to her mouth, the other squeezing Princess Anna’s. A veil of tears made her eyes shimmer.

Everyone stilled and it took Nicklas a moment to realize they were all waiting. They were waiting for him to finally break this cursed silence.

Nicklas’ breath caught in his throat. He edged closer to the foot of the bed.

“Julia?” he asked, hearing his voice crack on the last syllable. “Please… just say something – anything.”

Silence was his only reply. It reached deep inside him, as cold and cruel as mocking laughter.

Then, with a glimpse of movement, his world ground back into motion.

Jul’s right hand fisted in the coverlet, knuckles turning white. Her forehead furrowed. Then, one by one, every muscle in her face tensed before she released a pained groan that was worth every second of double shifts Nicklas had worked in the last three days.

“Water,” she rasped.

Julia’s voice pierced the silence like a stray bullet through a window and the best kind of chaos ensued.

Clapping, cheering, laughing, weeping; a joy so thick Nicklas could’ve wept from the sheer amount of it coursing through him. All the guilt that had been eating away at his heart let go of him at last, washed away by the current. He almost sagged forward without its weight.

Prince Eugene cheered, looking equal parts stunned and ecstatic. “We did it, Pascal! We did it!”

Pascal squeaked, as if he was indeed celebrating from his perch on the princess’ shoulder. He touched his tail to Rapunzel’s cheek as she heaved a happy sob and flung herself into Eugene’s waiting arms. “Best husband ever!”

Nicklas couldn’t help the laugh that burst out of him, the smile that almost made his face hurt. He had to take a deep breath to ground himself again. Julia needed immediate care and a doctor checking on her.

But someone had already beaten him to it.

Kneeling by the bed was Princess Anna, a glass of fresh water in one hand. With surprisingly gentle motions, the Princess lifted the glass to Jul’s lips. It took a few tries and a bit of spilled water before his friend found the rim of the glass. But the Princess was patient, her tone gentle as she coaxed Julia to ignore the mess and take more sips.

With some effort, Nicklas made himself step away from the bed. Blinking tears from his eyes, he hurried to the door, needing to make himself useful. As much as he wanted a front-row seat when Julia realized who was helping her drink, he’d seen the telltale signs of pain etched into her features. Even if his friend was strong enough to wake up after three days tethered to life by a slim thread, he knew this was just the beginning of the healing process.

As soon as he pulled the door open, Haldor stumbled right into him. His friend straightened quickly, looking anything but guilty. “I heard shouting,” he said, standing on tiptoes to peer inside the room. “What happened? Is your lady awake?”

With rising impatience, Nicklas grabbed Haldor by the shoulders until he’d nowhere to look but back at him. “Listen to me carefully, Hal. I need you to run and fetch the doctor straight away. No stops. No detours. You tell him - and only him - that Julia is awake and in need of urgent medical attention. No one must get wind of this. No one, you hear me, not even the captain.” Especially not the captain.

He glared holes into the door behind Haldor. To hell with his direct orders. It was time Svendsen actually showed up for Julia. Nicklas had had enough of his demands and empty promises without a shred of follow-through.

Haldor blinked up at him once. He stared Nicklas up and down before his face split into a grin. “You’ve got it, boss. One doctor coming right up.”

While Haldor ran off on his quest, grinning like a maniac, Nicklas lingered on the doorstep. Leaving the door unguarded was a bad idea. It would signal something was off and open their flank to an attack in a moment when they were more vulnerable than ever before.

But then voices drifted up behind him. They tugged at his collar, promising to ease the tension in between his shoulder blades. His mind tried to reason that Julia was safe now, in the hands of people he trusted. It made no difference. His own feet dragged him back inside without asking for permission.

In just one minute, everything – the lighting, the energy, the mood – had shifted, as it always did with Julia.

Nicklas blinked into sudden dimness. The curtains had been drawn to keep out the harsh midday sun but that wasn’t what had him nearly tripping over his feet.

Though still supine on the mattress, Julia looked wide awake, even if a little sluggish. Her blue eyes flicked from one princess to the other, questioning, guessing, puzzling over their presence with an almost feverish intensity. No doubt she must have tried to get up already, because Princess Rapunzel was patiently explaining there was no need to bow and that opening her wound was actually a much worse offense.

Princess Anna stood beside her, nodding while biting back a smile. Nicklas had no doubt she’d be more than ready to tackle Julia to the mattress should the need arise. Judging by the baffled look on Julia’s face, the chances of her lying down like a good soldier to rest were close to zero.

“You’ve been awake for all of two minutes and you’re already making a scene?” Nicklas stepped into Julia’s restricted line of vision, basking in the fierceness of her glare.

“What’s wrong with your face?” Jul half slurred. She paused for a ragged breath, squinting up at him. “Just help me sit up, will you? I can’t show my back to royalty.”

“Well, you kind of saved the entire kingdom with that back, so I’m pretty sure nobody minds,” Prince Eugene pointed out.

“I did?” Jul muttered into the pillow, frowning as if trying to squeeze the memory out of her foggy thoughts.

For one horrible second Nicklas’ brand-new sandcastles threatened to crumble.

Then a spark lit up Julia’s eyes. In an instant, the grogginess melted away. Her gaze sharpened. Her breath sped up as she tried and failed to push herself up on her forearms. “The Queen!” she gasped. “Where’s the Queen? No, no… I left her there on the ice with that backstabbing bastard. Is she safe? Did I stop the sword?”

“Oh, you most certainly did,” the Prince assured her with a shudder, only to add under his breath, “never seen so much blood in my life…”

“Please, let’s not rehash that, Eugene,” said Princess Rapunzel.

Princess Anna smiled, placing a calming hand on Jul’s shoulder. The gesture worked so quickly and so suddenly that it made Nicklas wish he’d had it on hand a week ago, when Julia had run off into that deadly blizzard.

“Elsa is doing great, Julia. If only she weren’t so busy right now with council meetings and paperwork, she’d be here, too. As for Hans, well,” Princess Anna went on, wiggling the fingers of one hand for dramatic effect, “let’s just say that I gave his lying jerkface a permanent fix.”

The corners of Julia’s lips curled upwards, muscles straining. “I don’t think his family expects us to return him in one piece after what he and Drost have done. I’m happy to work the prison shift –”

"Alright. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.” Nicklas drew closer to the bed, eager to end this conversation at once. It was too soon to be talking about that cursed man. Thankfully Julia could not see everyone exchanging uneasy glances. It’d be too much of a giveaway.

 “Nick is right. Work can wait. Now’s the time to rest and recover,” Princess Rapunzel said with a too-tight smile. “You know, regain some strength. Maybe process all the many, mostly traumatic experiences you went through in the past week.”

Princess Anna snorted. “Shouldn’t we all?”

“Yeah, look how thrilled Jul looks at the prospect. You know what?” the prince said, eyes gleaming with what Nicklas could only assume were more dangerous ideas. “What if we get Elsa involved and make a party out of this processing thing? Grab a couple extra sandwiches, maybe a bottle of something strong, get Pascal to play us some-”

“That’s it!” Princess Anna scrambled to her feet, making everyone start. Her eyes were almost as bright as Julia’s. “And I don’t just mean the party, because, really, you had me at sandwiches. It’s just that now I’ve finally got the perfect excuse to get Elsa to leave the office early for once. She’ll never say no to this. Oh my God, this is so exciting!” she squealed, rushing to the door. “I can’t wait to see Elsa’s face when I tell her you’re awake, Julia. I’ll see you later!”

“How are these two related?” the Prince wondered aloud, watching Princess Anna all but slam into the door in her hurry to leave.

“Why is the queen working late every night? What’s going on?”

Julia sounded much too awake already for Nicklas’ liking. He watched her try to no avail to lift her upper back to get more breathing room. Any more excitement and she wouldn’t be happy to just keep her eyes glued to the open door as if she expected the Queen to walk through at any second.

Nicklas and Rapunzel exchanged a meaningful look. Even though they barely knew each other, she read him faster than any of his friends would have.

“Come on, Eugene.” The princess patted Jul’s legs affectionately through the covers before grabbing her husband by the hand. “Let’s give Julia some peace and quiet. Nick can take it from here.”

Truth was, Nicklas felt anything but confident as he watched Julia’s stoic mask crumble as soon as the door closed behind the Coronans.

It had been too much all at once. The company, the exchange; Jul’s energy well had drained like a water cup left in the hot, dry sun. She was breathing hard through her nose, eyelids shaking from exertion. Every single rise and fall of her chest was punctuated by a wince that seemed to jab him too, right in the middle of his chest.

Nicklas sighed as deep and quietly as he could then lowered himself to the chair Princess Anna had just vacated. From up close, Julia’s brow glistened with a light sheen of perspiration.

“How bad is it? Doctor Alfredsen will be here any second now.”

“Nothing I can’t handle.”

Of course. Nicklas gritted his teeth. Of course she was not going to make this easy, not even in the helpless, battered state she was in.

“Last time you said that, you almost died on me,” Nicklas quipped with more heat than he’d intended. “Keep this tough act going and you’ll get nothing but bed rest. I’ll see to that myself. I’m done watching you self-destruct from the sidelines.”

Trembling from the effort, Julia opened one blood-shot eye and levelled the full force of her glare at him. Even with only one side of her face visible, it was still a fearsome sight, but it didn’t make him quiver in his boots like it did when he was a young novice searching for a place to belong.

“What do you want, Nicklas? Don’t you have anywhere else you need to be?”

It had taken him far too long, but he saw it now. The words were never meant to hurt him but to push him away. To keep him from seeing the pain and the struggle she was going through.

But he’d gotten his second chance. This time around, they were going to do things differently. They were going to do things his way.

“I am exactly where I need to be,” Nicklas said firmly. “You can fight me, curse me and pretend all you like, but I am done playing by your rules, Julia.”

A muscle in Julia’s jaw twitched. For several heartbeats they were silent, locked in a fierce standoff. Nicklas almost longed for a comeback or a witty insult that would tell him Julia was not in as much pain as he believed.

“What’s it like out there?”

It wasn’t so much a question as a diversion. A peace offering. For now it would do.

Nicklas gave Julia a sidelong glance, debating what and how much to reveal. The world that Prince Hans had almost cleaved in half down Julia’s back no longer existed, thank goodness.

But more freedom had come at a price; longer shifts for everyone, rising tensions, public dissent, Holt getting dangerously close to snatching Svendsen’s vacant captaincy. The very last thing Nicklas wanted was to unsettle his friend with fears of an impending catastrophe only to have to restrain her from crawling across the hall, demanding answers.

“It’s – its’s a bit of a mess,” Nicklas conceded, wishing for once he could gulp down lies as easily as Magnus’ cream puffs. “But I’m sure the Council and the Queen will figure it out soon.”

“What do you mean the Council?” Julia lifted her face off the pillow, shaking from the effort. “Nicklas, these backstabbing vermin signed off on the order to kill the queen. Why aren’t they rotting in jail, chained wrist to wrist with Drost and that southern snake?”

Nicklas held his breath, afraid the smallest twitch would betray him. “Maybe the Queen’s decided to start over by giving everyone a clean slate. She’d have to arrest the entire Guard otherwise. Very hard to protect a kingdom with just one bedridden guard.”

Julia’s gaze sharpened, boring into his. It pinned him down to his chair, probing his makeshift defenses. A drop of sweat ran down the small of his back.

“What is it?” she asked and Nicklas wished she’d chosen any other time to start reading him like an open book. “What aren’t you telling me? Spit it out.”

After hours spent rehearsing what to say in his head, nothing came out to save him, not even the smallest white lie. He could only sit there, backed into a corner, scrambling for a useful thought as if Julia’s thirst for answer had run his own dry.

There would be no lying to her about this. She would see right through him and curse him for the big the idiot that he was, thinking he could somehow protect her from the truth.

“He’s gone, Julia. Drost…he’s gone.” The words poured out of him in a sigh that oozed guilt. He could barely look at her now, her whole body grown as hard as ice.

“What does that mean? Gone?” she breathed.

“Sve –” Nicklas bit his tongue. He’d given Julia enough bad news for one night. “The Captain stormed Drost’s rooms as soon as the ice melted,” Nicklas explained, remembering with sickening clarity how little Julia’s fatal wounds had mattered in that moment. “When he got there, all his stuff was gone, like he left in a hurry. The few of us who were sent to search for him returned empty-handed. There’s no trace of him anywhere. It’s like he vanished into thin air.”

Without a sound, Jul sank back against the pillows and into the same pit of silence Nicklas still couldn’t find his way through. A storm raged behind her closed eyelids, just below the surface and damn it if Nicklas could get the right words out to console her. What could he possibly even say? Recite a bunch of empty platitudes, like, ‘I’m so sorry that the man who hurt you and humiliated you relentlessly for years won’t spend even one breath paying for his crimes because he’s probably out there somewhere starting afresh as a free man.’?

A part of him wished Drost would never resurface again. The man was evil. He poisoned everything he touched. Even locked inside a prison cell he would surely find a way to cause damage.

But there was something off about his disappearance. Starting from the fact that nobody had seen him move in and out of the castle - which Nicklas doubted was really the case.

“Listen, I know I –”

With a sudden creak of hinges, the door swung open. Voices poured into the room.

Nicklas sucked in his breath. He jumped to his feet, hands flying to flee his sword from the scabbard.

His mind spun in circles. Had Haldor been attacked? Was the doctor working for Holt? And above all, what was a poor swordsman like himself supposed to do now? Fighting was out of the question. He’d stand a much better chance of making it if he threw Julia over one shoulder and jumped into the cold fjord waters below.

But it was Doctor Alfredsen that burst into the room, panting and sweating through the collar of his shirt.

His bushy white eyebrows shot up to where his hairline had once been.

“I’ll be thrice-damned.” He huffed, grinning like a boy with a brand new toy. “She truly is awake!”

Jul groaned into her pillow, the sound muffled. Nicklas made a similar sound, sagging in relief to the thundering of his heart.

“I told you there’s no need for a doctor. What’s he gonna do? Uncut me?”

Doctor Alfredsen barked out a laugh. “You’re always a joy to work with, eh, Carlsson? At least wait until I get that bandage changed to tell me that I’m useless.”

“Stop whining and let the doctor work. If you’re as fine as you say, then you have nothing to worry about,” Nicklas told Julia, meeting her piercing glare with a smile.

And right then it hit him. They were going to be alright. As long as he could buy Julia some time to heal, there was hope.

“Out boy.” The doctor dropped his leather case at the foot of the bed and started rummaging for his tools. “Take your chatty friend and wait outside. Carlsson and I have a score to settle.”

It took Nicklas a beat to realize the doctor had not walked in alone. He spun around and found Haldor leaning against the table in the corner, cramming the lone, forgotten sandwich in his mouth. It was just like him. Stomach first, everything else later.

Nicklas didn’t know whether he wanted to smack him upside the head or burst into laughter. Maybe both. Something in him had unraveled. His chest felt both light and raw, as if he’d been scrubbed clean from the inside out.

After stealing one last look at the woman staring daggers at him from her nest of white rumpled sheets, Nicklas grabbed Haldor by the arm and dragged him back into the lamp-lit hallway.

Julia’s scratchy protests faded into silence as the door closed behind them.

“Bit of an oddball that doctor, am I right?”

Nicklas said nothing. He actually quite liked the sharp-tongued physician. Instead he glanced left toward the stairs – listened to the quiet that swelled around them.

His eyes bored into Svendsen’s office door next. The tightness in his chest returned. In a matter of days – if not hours – someone else would claim these rooms as theirs, someone likely much worse than Svendsen, with the power to upend their lives on a whim.

He had to move fast. He had to make sure that by then, Julia would be tucked away somewhere safe and hidden, so she could heal and fight back if she chose to.

“I’ll be back soon, Haldor,” Nicklas said as he maneuvered his friend so that his wide frame blocked the door. “If anyone that isn’t me climbs up those stairs, you have my permission to fight them. Even if it’s the Queen.”

Haldor brightened at that. He saluted and burped at the same time. “Sweet! Where you off to? The chapel?”

It took all of Nicklas not to look to the sky, pleading for these stupid jokes to end.

“I told you I’d fix this, didn’t I? I’m going to find some help before Princess Anna spreads the news two kingdoms over.”

“Help from whom?” Haldor heaved a tired sigh. “Nobody cares about this woman except for you and those rowdy royals.”

“You tell that to Holt next time he shows up in a captain’s uniform to hang her.”

Before Haldor threw more nonsense at him, Nicklas took off at a brisk pace. He was sick and tired of always being on the defensive. Sure, Julia had always avoided her comrades like the plague, but she did have friends inside these walls. Magnus, the Viking-looking chef with a temper to match and the stoic, inscrutable stable master, Dag. An unlikely pair who spoke with their eyebrows more than with words. Still, they cared for Julia like two unlikely fathers. Both of them had asked Nicklas for daily updates, comforted him, kept his guilt at bay so many times he’d lost count. If worse came to worst, he knew they’d be there waiting with plenty of food and safe passage. For Julia and for everyone in need of a quick plan B.

Time was not on his side, so he hurried down the stairs, rushing outside with his head bent. It was well past noon already. The queen must be moments away from making her decision. Nicklas couldn’t help but pray she would save him like she’d done last night and keep Holt away from him and Julia, just enough to give them a head start. He didn’t let himself wish for more. Though, after watching the woman make his fellow guards scatter like frightened birds, he struggled to imagine how she might be swayed to pick a candidate who had a piece of putrid meat in place of a heart.

Their fate was all in her powerful, magic-wielding hands. And, like Julia, he wanted to believe they were hands worth trusting.