She was not getting up off the floor anytime soon.
There was a quiet knock at the door. She knew who it was without asking.
“I am leaving soon for the memorial. Please consider coming with me, Elsa.”
It was Lord Peterssen. Even though she hadn’t left her room, she knew what he was talking about. Kai, Gerda, Olina, and Lord Peterssen had been talking to her through her closed door for days.
Nothing they could tell her was of importance. She already knew who would run the kingdom. Papa had told her before his trip that if anything ever happened to him, Lord Peterssen would handle affairs until Elsa came of age at twenty-one and could be coronated. Anything else they had to say didn’t matter.
It upset her to think she didn’t know her parents as well as she had thought she did. When she considered the argument she had overheard before they left, the trunk in the attic with the mysterious letter A, and her strange powers, she had to wonder. There were so many questions she wished she could ask her parents. Did you know I was capable of magic? If you did, why didn’t you tell me? Were you ashamed I was born with this power? Scared? Worried about what our people would think? I’ll never know. You’ve taken your secrets to the grave and left me alone to figure things out.
“Elsa, please? Your parents would want you to be there. Open the door.”
She closed her eyes tight. The memorial service for her parents was being held high above the fjord. Even though Papa and Mama had perished at sea, markers were being placed up there in their honor. Hundreds of subjects were expected to turn out. They’d want to offer their condolences and sympathy, but she knew she wouldn’t be able to handle the situation. Ice would shoot out uncontrollably. They’d brand her a witch or a monster. They’d demand she abdicate the throne. Her parents’ legacy would be gone in a moment.
No, she couldn’t go to her parents’ memorial. She couldn’t go anywhere in public till she got a handle on her magic.
Until then, she would stay locked in her room. She’d never leave the castle. She would avoid contact with most of the staff. Her sole purpose would be to conceal her powers. Don’t feel it, she reminded herself. Don’t let it show.
Her parents had loved her so much. She still needed them—she was desperate to tell them what had happened. What if she couldn’t handle the power on her own? She couldn’t tell Lord Peterssen for fear of frightening him. The throne was at stake. She had no choice but to suffer in silence.
“Elsa? Can you hear me?”
“What is she saying?” said a second voice, much more insistent than the first.
Elsa heard Lord Peterssen patiently trying to explain the situation.
“I know she’s upset,” said the second voice, “but it won’t look right for the future queen not to be at her parents’ memorial. What will the people think?”
It was cleary the Duke of Weselton. He had no say in their kingdom, but he seemed to feel that being a close trade partner allowed him to weigh in on things. He had raced back to Arendelle when news broke of the king’s and queen’s demises. As much as his presence frustrated her, she knew he was right. She should honor her parents and be at the service. But that would mean she’d have to pick herself up off the floor and risk everyone’s finding out what she was capable of.
“Please leave,” Elsa croaked.
Silence.
“She isn’t coming,” Elsa heard Lord Peterssen tell the Duke. He didn’t argue. Moments later, she heard them walk away.
Elsa sat up and looked at Sir JorgenBjorgen lying on her bed. He had been there since she’d thrown him days before. Now he was covered in ice. She suddenly wished she could reach him. When she was a child, she had truly loved that toy. Not just because the doll had been such a good listener, but because he was her constant companion. She had liked to imagine that the doll loved her in return.
For a split second, Elsa recalled a new memory of her younger self. She was building a snowman with another girl. They pulled the snowman around the room laughing. It was clear they loved each other. Her hands started to tingle in an unfamiliar way—they were warm—then the sensation was gone and she was