Chapter Text
Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, autumn 1842
Harvest Day was on its turn, and the memory clenched at Anna´s heart.
She stood in front of the shop window and starred at the boots in the corner. They looked lovely and for some reason she craved to touch them. Not that Anna Westergaard needed another pair of shoes, she had numerous pairs at her new home. But those reminded her so much of her former home, well, of the one place she had loved the most to visit while still living in Arendelle: the shoemaker´s workshop…
She missed him. But of course, she could tell this to nobody. People would not understand that there is somebody who was dear to her heart, anybody other than a sister or a female friend. And her husband had clearly stated that she was of better status now and he didn´t like her being in contact to more people from Arendelle than her sister.
Hans was not necessarily mean to her, only that Anna had learned that prestige and social sophistication meant so much to him. Albeit she tried hard to fulfil his view of her role as lady of the house and host to their parties, she never really felt comfortable and at ease with her new life the ways she had dreamed of it all.
Sometimes, Anna found herself musing what her life might had been if she had stayed in Arendelle. But that thought finally and always spiralled her into the one and only corner of her heart, namely that she missed so many things that were familiar to her, and Anna tried to shake off the melancholic feeling of loneliness, by focusing of what she had gained; a charming husband, though mostly gone due to business, and when at home he was nice to her but only as long as where she would not bother him with her personal matters. The house was nice and big, there were servants tending to her wishes and she was free to roam about to her liking, and she was a well-respected lady.
And still, when she was all by herself, there was this kind face and voice that came to her memory more often than was doing her good, a reflexion and longing that Anna desperately tried to get rid of due to decency reasons. If anybody could see into her mind and heart, they´d accuse her of adultery. Not that she wanted that obviously, but the more she tried to forget, the harder it became and those were the moments when she tried to flee into her husband’s arms.
And it was not so, that he minded her affection, oh no, Hans lusted for her utter cry for love because it made him feel powerful, only that Anna believed his tender touches were the true answer to her call for a long time. In truth, Anna was hopeful that time would make the odd craving fade and that his lovemaking eventually making her see the love she´d chosen for good with Hans Westergaard.
But her hopes were in vain, and cruel reality was coming upon her with the sword of Damocles.