cleaning brass fixtures in the hallway and someone delicately brushing dust off their family portrait, painted when Elsa was eight. Finally, Elsa began to ascend the attic stairs, the heat rising as she climbed.
The lantern washed over the dark, cramped space. The room was musty, as if it hadn’t been visited in centuries, even though Kai had just been there. Elsa could make out dust marks on the floor from the boxes Kai had taken downstairs. The space needed a good cleaning. Furniture was piled in one corner, a sled hung from another, and the tight quarters were crammed with massive trunks with chipped paint and faded rosemaling. Elsa made her way to the closest trunk to have a peek. It was locked. The next one contained nothing but quilts. The third was full of old hats and a few capes. The fourth one was also locked, but the mechanism was loose, so Elsa gave it a hard pull, and it came right off. The trunk was full of boring ice axes, fur-trimmed gloves, and snow boots that looked like they had been used to climb the North Mountain. She could see why Kai was emptying out the place. The excursion had been a waste of her time. There was nothing to see up there. Or was there?
Her father had lived in the castle since he was a boy, and she’d hate to see his childhood things tossed out by accident. After all, this was their history. She needed to protect it. Elsa stepped around one of the trunks, and she waved the lantern into the dark recesses. The light caught on a broken frame with a yellowed map of the kingdom. Her father might like to see that. She stepped close, her eyes lingering on handwritten markings, and lifted the frame up to the dim light. That was when she noticed there was a trunk behind the frame. This one was different from the others. It was painted white, with brightly colored flowers on the front of it. Elsa realized immediately why it seemed familiar: it looked exactly like her hope chest.
Could it have been her mother’s, before she married?
Elsa ran her hand along the top of the trunk, removing a thick layer of dust. The painted markings on it were identical to the ones on her own, but instead of an E painted on top, the tracings of a different letter were buried under all that dust. She rubbed hard at the spot, wiping the dust away until the letter became clear. It was an A.
A? Her mother’s name was Iduna. Her father was Agnarr, but this clearly wasn’t his. Who was A?
Elsa racked her brain, trying to think of who the trunk could belong to. A name was rolling around in her head, but it wouldn’t come forward. A…A…A…She willed her mind to figure it out, but it was stuck.
Instead, she thought again about that argument she had overheard between her parents. They had referred to a “she.” Her mother had seemed insistent on seeing the person, while her father kept stressing how risky it was to visit. She’d never heard them that upset with each other before. Now she wondered: could “she” and “A” be the same person?
“Princess Elsa!”
She stepped away from the trunk as if she had been caught snooping.
“Princess Elsa!”
She quickly put the frame back where she had found it, hiding the chest from sight, and headed down the stairs. There was a commotion of some sort. She could hear people crying and others calling her name.
“I’m here,” Elsa called, instantly feeling guilty for making anyone worry about where she was. She rounded the corner and found members of the castle staff gathered together. Gerda was inconsolable. Olina was crying into a handkerchief. Several people were embracing and in tears.
“Princess Elsa!” Kai clutched his chest. “You’re all right.” His face was blotchy, as if he’d been crying, too. “We thought…”
“Thought what?” Elsa felt her heart speed up. A lump rose in her throat as she watched Olina blot her eyes. Everyone was looking at her. Something was terribly wrong. “What is it?”
Lord Peterssen appeared from the middle of the crowd. His face was somber and his eyes were bloodshot. “Elsa,” he whispered, her name sounding broken on his tongue, “could we speak in private, please?”
The minute she locked eyes with him, she knew.
“No.” She started to back up. She didn’t want to hear what he had to say. The walls seemed like they were