Elsa was no stranger to regret. It all started the night little five year old Anna snuck into her room, climbed on her bed, and coaxed her into coming to the ballroom to play. How she regretted ever getting out of that bed. How many times throughout the thirteen years of her isolation had she wished she could take that moment back, to change her mind and do the responsible, practical thing? Everything would've been different if she'd just stayed in bed.

But she hadn't stayed in bed. She got up and followed Anna to the ballroom. She ignored that little voice in her head, the voice of common sense and reason. Elsa, it said, what would mother say if she saw you out roaming the halls when you're supposed to be in bed? That's not what good little girls do. Good little girls listen to their mothers! But she hadn't listened, and by the time they reached the ballroom, shutting the doors behind them, that voice was all but gone, silenced by neglect. It didn't protest when she conjured the snowflakes, it didn't object when they ice skated around the room, and it didn't complain as she made taller and taller mounds of snow, trying to keep up with her sister's wild leaps. Even if it continued to sound the warning, would she have listened?

She hadn't listened to her father. She was eight years old and her magic was getting stronger every day, and as her powers grew so did her father's concern. Despite his repeated warnings to the contrary she had used the magic yet again. His voice boomed in her head as he burst through the ballroom doors, seeing the room encased in ice and Anna lying lifeless in her lap. "Elsa! What have you done? This is getting out of hand!"

She squeezed her eyes shut at the memory, but it wouldn't go away.

That's the funny thing about regret, she thought. Other emotions seemed to wane with the passage of time, whether it be sorrow, anger, or jealousy. She remembered how jealous she was of Anna growing up in the castle, her being free to go where she pleased and to spend time with their mother and father without fear of hurting them. How she wanted to have that life and how it vexed her that she couldn't! And yet, when she recalled those memories the hurt and sadness seemed blunted by time, thinking about them no longer conjured those emotions.

Not so with regret. Despite the passage of time, whenever she was reminded of that fateful day in the ballroom her wounds felt fresh. Her entire life seemed like nothing but a long series of regrets. The memory of them played through her mind, stark and bitter moments chiding her for her carelessness. The moment she shunned her sister at her coronation. The moment she unleashed an unnatural winter. The moment she struck Anna upon the North Mountain. And now, the moment she'd lashed out at Kristoff, wounding with her words.

She buried her face in her hands, recalling the look on his face; she'd never seen him make that expression before. Kristoff wasn't prone to displays of emotion, choosing instead to hide his feelings behind a wall of stoicism. Not even the unrelenting drought was able to erode this wall of resistance and the harder things got the more determined he seemed to not allow his fear and anxiety to show.

She understood what that was like, knew what sheer resolve it took to maintain such composure even as the world around them was crumbling. She thought about his ice business and how the drought devastated it. Elsa knew he must've been frustrated, angry and sad at the loss of the one activity he'd pinned his entire existence and identity on, but he didn't show it. That's what struck her the hardest. The loss of everything he loved hadn't fazed him, and yet her words had hurt him so much she saw it in his eyes and in the corners of his mouth.

She felt like crying. She gritted her teeth, pushing hard against the lump in her throat.

Conceal, don't feel.

She took a deep breath and exhaled, trying to expel the pain before it could overcome her. It was a skill, one she learned from her father and honed over the many years of her isolation. The trick was in the breathing, he'd said. He told her to imagine her pain as a cloud, a thick fog or smoke trapping all the bad feelings inside her, and she needed to breathe to get it out.

She inhaled through her nose, taking a slow breath and held it, imagining the fog of her pain swirling and collecting around the tightness in her chest. Then she exhaled, letting it seep out into the air. She did it again, and again, and it seemed to be working as it always had, focusing her thoughts and calming her mind. She relaxed her breathing and sat back in the throne. She thought the wave of emotion had passed, that she'd stemmed the feelings which would lead to tears, then she recalled Anna's accusing glare and the disappointment in her eyes as she said, "How could you?"

It was too much. She put her face in her hands and wept into the palms of her gloves. She tried to stop but it was no use, and she had no choice but to let it run its course.

"Sometimes you just have to cry." It was her mother's voice, warm and soothing, reminding her, as she had on so many occasions, that she shouldn't hide all her emotions all the time. "No one is that strong. Sometimes you just have to let it out." But she didn't want to, not here.

She took another breath and dried her eyes, remembering the two guards stationed outside the throne room. She didn't want them to see her like this. She didn't want anyone to see her like this.

She got up, wiping her face on the backs of her gloves. This was no time to feel sorry for herself, or wallow in the sadness of her regret. She'd just have to find a way to make it up to Kristoff. She didn't know when or how, but she'd find a way. In the meantime, she had more important things to do than sit on her throne and cry.

She had an engagement celebration to plan, after all.

She called for Kai, the castle steward, and informed him of the engagement party. He was surprised at first, if you could call it surprise. A slight widening of the eyes was his only reaction and anyone else might've concluded he hadn't reacted at all. But Elsa knew if it was enough to elicit even the slightest display of emotion from him, then he was surprised. He hurried off to inform the rest of the servants and as he left she thought she detected a slight spring in his step, an eagerness in his stride she hadn't seen for a long time.

There'd been a visible lack of joy in the castle for many months, notable in the way the servants slowed their pace, in the way their shoulders sagged and their feet shuffled as they walked, their faces reflecting the somber appraisal of their dire situation. So she was happy to see a bounce in Kai's step, however slight.

It was at that moment she realized how right John might be about the whole affair. She had doubted if holding an engagement party in the midst of a crisis was a sound decision, and even after agreeing to John's suggestion those doubts remained. But if just the news of a celebration was enough to touch the most emotionally reserved of her staff, imagine what the actual celebration could do for them all. The thought brought a smile to her face.

She set about gathering any supplies and decorations she could salvage from what remained in the castle. It was a daunting task because most everything of value had been traded away for the goods necessary for their survival. She spent most of the day inspecting each room and itemizing their contents, with the help of a guard. She ran into Olaf on the second floor and he was glad to join her in the search. He laughed and giggled and twirled as they dug through piles of objects, setting aside the ones they could use for the party and leaving them at the mouth of the door. Later, servants would collect them and move them to the courtyard, but for now Olaf was happy to pick up each one and marvel at its splendor as if it were some hidden treasure, even though they were mostly mundane objects like tablecloths, chairs, and serving platters.

After covering the second floor they went upstairs to the library. Elsa went about the room collecting items and setting them by the door, such as candle stands, chairs, and an empty pitcher. This time Olaf didn't help her, though, he just stood at the end of the couch in the middle of the room, watching. She'd almost finished and was searching the drawers of the desk when he hopped over and stood at her side.

"Elsa?" he said.

She was distracted by her task and he'd been so quiet she'd almost forgotten he was there.

"Yes, Olaf?" she said without looking up.

She closed the last drawer, finding nothing but old papers and a tobacco pipe.

"Yes?"

He paused for a moment longer, then said, "Are you happy?"

The question caught her by surprise. Olaf wasn't the contemplative sort, given more to chasing his current obsessions than investigating the emotional welfare of his companions. Despite being in a state of perpetual distraction, though, he could sometimes be quite observant.

She gave him a half-smile and went to the bookshelves on the other side of the room. He followed.

"Of course I'm happy. How could I not be happy when you're with me?"

She picked up a few of the trinkets on the shelves, but none seemed suitable for decorations. Olaf tugged on her dress.

"Does your face know you're happy?"

"Oh, Olaf!" She said, realizing he was truly concerned. She got down on her knees, sitting on her heels before him.

"I have so much to be happy about." She pinched the end of his carrot nose. "I have you. I have a beautiful sister who loves me and she's getting married to a wonderful man who adores her. And now I get to throw them a ball, so how could I not be happy?"

Olaf plopped down on his hind quarters, leaning back on his hands.

"Then why do you look so sad today?"

"Well..." she said, contemplating the question. The task they'd been performing provided a nice distraction from the events of the morning, but now the pain of regret crept back in when she recalled her unkind words to Kristoff. "Sometimes we say things we don't really mean and we end up hurting the people we care about the most."

"Then why don't you just not say those things?"

"Yes, that's very wise advice, but sometimes we make mistakes and say things we can't unsay."

Olaf nodded, as if he understood, yet remained quiet as he mulled this over. She could almost see the wheels turning in his head.

"Does Prince John make you happy?"

She raised an eyebrow.

"That's a strange thing to ask."

It was a curious question, one she hadn't given much consideration to. She thought about her anxiety in the throne room and the spikes of ice which she couldn't control, recalling how John helped calm her worries and allay her fears. She thought about his generous contribution to Arendelle, without expecting anything in return, and how he was the force behind the engagement celebration which she was looking forward to. Things had changed for the better since his arrival, that was for sure.

"Yes, I suppose he does make me happy."

"Then why does he make the guards so angry?"

"Well..." Elsa said, struggling to find an answer. It was a challenge deciding how much detail to give him. "I don't think they trust him."

"What? Why not?"

"Because he's a stranger, and sometimes people have a hard time trusting someone they don't know very well."

Olaf leaned forward, placing his hands on his feet.

"Do you trust him?"

It should've been an easy question with an easy answer, but she found herself floundering for a response. In her heart she felt like his actions were beyond reproach, considering all he'd sacrificed in behalf of Arendelle; but at the same time she couldn't dismiss Alek and Kristoff's concerns. Their insistence John could be dangerous made her question her own beliefs, even though she was sure they must be overreacting. They had to be. The alternative made no sense. So why couldn't she get rid of that nagging doubt, the one that said, what if you're wrong?

"I don't know, Olaf," she said, pushing herself to her feet. "It's complicated."

Olaf hopped up too, but he had no more questions, which she was thankful for. She considered the collection of objects piled outside the door, stuff intended for decorations and furnishings. If the party was to be a reflection of her love, she thought, it would be a poor one. These were the things they couldn't trade away, certainly not the finest things Arendelle had once had to offer. Kristoff and Anna deserved far better than what she could give them, but there was little she could do about that now. For now she'd do everything in her power to make their engagement ball a memorable one, despite the challenge.

She waved Olaf on and they left the room, continuing their search through the rest of the castle.

******

It was getting late and Elsa was tired. At midday she'd considered going back to her room for a nap but there was far too much to be done, so she opted to continue making preparations instead, and now her exhaustion was catching up with her. It didn't help that she'd spent the evening alone, apart from the guard who followed her around. With no one to talk to it was easy for the mind to drift closer to slumberland. Olaf had joined Tobias in delivering invitations to what remained of the townsfolk, Anna had presumably spent the day in the archives searching for evidence of a missing aunt, and John and his men were mounting a salvation operation on the docks. She could've slipped unnoticed up to her room and called it a night, except she knew she wouldn't be able to sleep until she could apologize to Anna and Kristoff.

So she set out to find them.

She went first to the archives but the door was closed and locked, so she headed to Anna's room, finding the door ajar. She peeked inside, but all she found was an unmade bed and a floor strewn with clothes. She went to the great hall and then the ballroom, but they were both empty. Upon arriving at the kitchen she was greeted by the cook and his helpers, but none of them had seen Anna or Kristoff all day.

She started to panic, even if just a little. What if Anna and Kristoff had left Arendelle? It was a ridiculous thought, she knew that, but that did little to calm her fears. She was about to go to the stables to see if Sven had been taken out when she thought to check the throne room. She hurried across the castle and up the stairs, her carpet softened footsteps the only sound as she ascended to the main hallway. She was so happy to see Anna on the other end of that hall, leaning against the archway with a bag in her hand. Elsa had been carrying the bitter poison of regret with her all day and she couldn't wait to apologize. Anna put the bag down as she approached and Elsa grabbed her in her arms.

"I'm so sorry, Anna!"

Elsa was relieved Anna didn't scold her or protest. Truth be told, she wasn't sure how Anna would react. Her sister had a kind and forgiving heart and she rarely held a grudge, but she was also protective and defended the ones she loved. She wouldn't have been surprised if Anna still held some animosity over the hurtful words hurled at her fiancé, but there didn't appear to be any lingering resentment as Anna gave her a squeeze then let go.

"I don't know why I said what I did. I think Kristoff is a wonderful man and I'm so happy for both of you."

"I know."

"Is he alright?"

Anna shrugged. "He took Sven and left and I haven't seen him all day, but I'm sure he'll be fine. He knows you well enough to know you didn't mean any harm. He'll be alright."

Elsa wasn't so sure. Would he be as forgiving as Anna? Kristoff presented a hard exterior and one might think nothing could hurt him, but she knew better. Inside, Kristoff was as soft as any of them, maybe softer. Who knows how long it would take for him to heal.

"He'll be fine," Anna said. "You need to stop worrying so much. Everyone is stressed and on edge and we're bound to get under each other's skin from time to time."

"Okay," Elsa said, managing the best smile she could muster.

"Anyway," Anna said, "we have more important things to discuss, don't we?"

She picked up the bag and gave it a little shake. Elsa didn't recognize it. It looked old and faded but not well worn.

"From the archives?"

Anna nodded. "I was there almost all day. You wouldn't believe the stuff they have in there!"

"So you found something?"

"Yes, but can we talk somewhere else?"

Anna's request piqued Elsa's curiosity and she began to forget how tired she was.

"Of course. Let's go to my room."

They headed to Elsa's room, followed by the guard, and Elsa couldn't wait to hear Anna's news. She had so many questions. Who was Inger? Why hadn't their father ever mentioned her? Where was she going when she was lost at sea?

When they arrived at Elsa's door she pushed it open, but the candles weren't lit and it was dark as midnight in there. She turned to the guard to borrow his lantern but Anna didn't wait, disappearing into the shadows of the pitch black room. Elsa heard a thump, a loud "Ow!" and then the crash of something falling on the floor. The guard handed his light to Elsa and she went in, finding Anna sitting in the chair by the bed, rubbing her foot.

"When did you move your nightstand?" Anna asked through a grimace.

"You're thinking of your room," Elsa said, retrieving the candlestick Anna knocked to the floor.

Elsa used the lantern to light it then returned the lantern to the guard, which he accepted with a bow. She shut the door and lit the other candles, removed her shoes, and sat on the edge of the bed. She waited for Anna to begin but she still had her foot in her lap, inspecting her big toe through a hole in her sock.

"Well?" Elsa said

"I think it's going to be fine," Anna said as she pulled her shoe back on. "But you should think about moving your nightstand to the other side of the bed."

"No, what did you find in the archives?"

"Oh, right!"

Anna sat up as if suddenly remembering why they were there. She glanced at the door to make sure it was secure, then leaned forward. "I spent the whole day in the archives searching through everything I could get my hands on. It's not so much what I found, it's what I didn't find."

"What do you mean?"

"This Princess Inger, she lived almost 20 years in the castle, right?"

Elsa shrugged. "I assume so."

"Well, it's like she never existed. There are no accounts of her activities, no official records relating to any of her deeds, no portraits, nothing!"

Without a doubt it was strange, but that's not quite what she expected to hear.

"So you didn't find anything?"

"I did find out one thing about her."

"Okay, what is it?"

"I know where she was going when she was lost at sea."

The lights of the candles flickered in unison, casting an eerie glow across Anna's face. Elsa checked the window to see if it had let a breeze in, but it was closed. She waited for Anna to continue, but she was staring at the wall as if lost in thought.

"Well, where was she going?"

Anna went over to sit next to Elsa.

"I searched the official court documents, using the date on Inger's death record as