Conceal, Don't Feel (Disney Twisted Tales) - Jen Calonita Page 0,24

Elsa said, her heart warming at the sight of the rosemaling on the lid. She fingered the raised gold crest on the top. “My father used one of these boxes as king, and he gave me this one to have when I ruled. I guess that time is now.”

“What’s inside?” Olaf asked excitedly.

It was the first time in years she had opened the box. She lifted the lid and the empty green velvet lining stared back at them.

“It’s empty.” Olaf frowned.

“Elsa?” she heard from the dressing room.

“Coming!” Elsa placed the lockbox on the desk. “Thank you for finding this. I’ll return soon,” Elsa told him before slipping back into the dressing room, where Gerda was waiting patiently. “Bird. It’s gone now,” she explained.

“Why don’t you change and I’ll hang up the gown?” Gerda suggested. “Lord Peterssen had to leave, but you have another visitor waiting outside.”

Elsa quickly went behind the screen to change. Olaf would be okay in her room for a spell. It was a lovely day, and a walk around the castle grounds could be just what she needed. When she was dressed and ready, Gerda opened the door so Elsa could greet her guest. She had a feeling she knew who it was.

He bowed. “Princess Elsa of Arendelle, thank you for seeing me.” He held out his bent elbow. “Shall we take a walk?”

She took his arm. “Prince Hans of the Southern Isles, I’d be delighted.”

“You do not need to bow every time you see me, Hans,” Elsa said with a laugh.

He flashed her a charming smile and sighed. “Force of habit. I’ll stop doing that with time.”

Over the past few months, he’d given Elsa a lot of time.

He’d been patient.

He’d been a good listener.

He moved slowly, each motion or statement he made carefully considered. Hans learned quickly that the princess of Arendelle required a delicate approach.

The poor thing had been so broken when he met her it was obvious that she’d never really recovered from the loss of her parents. And she didn’t have any siblings to lean on. He couldn’t imagine what her life must have been like after such a tragedy. The large, empty castle must have felt like a tomb.

When the Duke of Weselton had visited the Southern Isles the previous fall, he had spoken at length about Arendelle and its orphaned princess and who would take over her kingdom. His twelve older brothers hadn’t paid any attention, but Hans had listened closely. Why should they bother? Most of them already knew their place in their kingdom; some of them had a chance to rule the islands or had married well and would rule elsewhere. As thirteenth in line, his chances of ruling were slim. He was the only one who knew what it was like to have to find a place to fit in the world. He could understand Elsa in a way no one else could. He had decided right then that he would journey to meet her. The Duke of Weselton, a devious fellow who was always looking for a new partnership, had been delighted. Hans had been residing in Arendelle ever since.

Yes, there were parts of home he missed. His brothers (sometimes), his father’s wisdom (all the time), and his islands, which were warmer and lusher than Arendelle. The problem was the Southern Isles never really seemed like they were going to be his kingdom.

Arendelle, on the other hand, just might be.

Hans stared out one of the windows into the courtyard and watched the castle workers hurrying around, hanging banners and decorations for Elsa’s coronation. After three long years, the kingdom was ready to have a queen.

What they needed even more was a king. He and Elsa weren’t officially courting—he didn’t want to scare her off with such a declaration—but it seemed like they were pretty close.

“I’m ready,” Elsa said. He heard a crash come from her room behind them. The princess winced. “Something must have fallen. I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about!”

Elsa kept many secrets. He had to admire her for that. “Shall we walk?”

She nodded. “Yes. I think you were right. Air will do me good.”

“It will,” he agreed. The two stared at each other for a moment.

Hans hoped she liked what she saw. He had reddish-brown hair and muttonchops, which none of his brothers shared and which they constantly teased him about. His mother said they suited him. His brothers all had brown eyes, while his were hazel, like his mother’s. He was taller than

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