I knew from experience.
Ooh! I should show her the library. I wondered if she liked to read. There were so many good books in our library. Books with all sorts of adventures lying between their pages, like windows into other worlds. Worlds I, as a crown prince and heir to the throne, would probably never get a chance to see in real life since the castle gates were currently locked.
But no one could stop me from reading about them.
People always assumed being prince was such a glamorous thing. But in a way, it was like being a prisoner. My responsibility to my kingdom always had to come first over my own desires. And adventures? They were too dangerous to even consider. For if I were to die, the whole kingdom would suffer.
Like now, after my father’s death. It would be years before Arendelle fully recovered. At least that’s what the council said, during our latest meeting. Peterssen was a competent leader, but he wasn’t a king. And our armies had been depleted from the battle in the Enchanted Forest, leaving us vulnerable. The council believed we should reach out to other kingdoms for assistance; the kingdom of Vassar, for example, had a great army. Perhaps they could be convinced to lend us aid if we ever needed it.
At least that’s what members of the council argued for over an hour and a half at the meeting. Which had been so mind-numbingly dull I had almost fallen asleep three times. Who would have thought being a great leader would be so boring?
But now—now I had Iduna.
I grabbed her hand. “Come on!” I said. “I’ve got something amazing to show you.”
Her eyes widened at the grip of my hand on hers, but after a moment she let me lead her.
“Ta-da!” I cried as I threw open the library doors.
For a moment, Iduna said nothing, her mouth just sort of dropping open.
“Do you like it?” I asked.
She walked into the room, sinking down onto a nearby padded stool. “These are all…your books?” she asked, her blue eyes wide as they took in the towering shelves. “All of them?” When I nodded in response, her eyes inexplicably filled with tears.
It wasn’t quite the reaction I had been hoping for. “Iduna, what is it?” I asked.
Her eyes darted in all directions, looking everywhere but at me. “My…mother, she would have loved this room,” she whispered at last. “She had a book. She used it to teach me to read.” Her voice sounded soft and far away and sad.
Of course. What a dunce I could be! I dropped to my knees in front of her. “I’m sorry,” I said, trying to make her meet my gaze. “I wasn’t trying to upset you. Or remind you of your parents.”
I groaned inwardly at my attempt at an apology. Seriously, Agnarr? You are the worst. You’re supposed to be trying to cheer her up. Instead you’ve made her cry.
“We don’t have to look at these,” I added quickly, jumping back to my feet. “They’re kind of musty anyway. Want to see the kitchen? I bet Olina has finished up the desserts for tonight’s banquet. And I’m really good at distracting her for an advanced taste test.”
She gave me a wan smile. “Maybe later,” she said. “I’m not that hungry right now.”
Argh. I was getting nowhere. I rubbed my head, frustrated, the cropped hair like stubbly grass between my fingers. “Do you want me to leave you alone?” I blurted. It was the last thing I wanted to do. But I didn’t want her to think I couldn’t take a hint. Peterssen had told me to be patient—that it might take some time for her to come out of her shell. I was probably coming off way too strong.
She rose to her feet, walking over to the large, circular wooden table in the center of the room, stopping in front of it and looking down. Too late I realized there were full-on blueprints of the dam my father had built, spread across its surface. The plans that had started this whole thing, drawn up long before I was born, when my father and his people had first arrived in Arendelle.
She traced a hand over the paper. “What do you think happened that day?” she asked, in a voice so soft I could barely hear her.
I stepped closer, staring down at the plans. “I don’t know,” I said after a minute. “It started out as such a perfect day. The Enchanted Forest was so beautiful. Everyone was having fun. Laughing, joking. And then…they weren’t.” I swallowed hard as memories of the day came raging back at me. The stench of smoke. Swords clashing. People screaming. Wind blowing.
My father tumbling to his death.
“Do you think the Northuldra betrayed us?” she asked suddenly, turning to look at me. Her big blue eyes seemed to drill right through me, as if trying to peer into my soul. “Do you think they attacked first?”
It was, of course, the same question everyone had been asking since that fateful day. But somehow it sounded different coming from her mouth. Mostly because she was the first one who sounded like she really wanted an answer, instead of using the question as a preamble to rant on about the Northuldra and their vile magic.
“I don’t know,” I said at last, keeping my voice low so no one could accidentally hear us if they walked past. I was the crown prince of Arendelle, after all. Which meant I needed to side with my people, no matter what. And I did believe in them. Arendelle was a good kingdom. People were kind to their neighbors. They helped others in need. But still, it didn’t make sense to me. Why would the Northuldra attack us after we gave them such a gift?
But then, why would we attack them?
Iduna looked up at me and I realized her eyes were brimming with tears again. “Has anyone gone back?” she asked, her voice wobbly. “To see what’s left? Who survived? Are the Northuldra destroyed?”
Oh! My eyes widened. She didn’t know! Of course she didn’t. No one outside the castle had any idea. They were already too riled up, even without knowing about the magical mist; Lord Peterssen hadn’t wanted to cause a panic.
I gestured for her to follow me. We couldn’t talk about something this important here, in the center of the castle. There were too many eyes and ears, lurking around every corner. It would be safer to talk in the courtyard garden, despite the cold. Hardly anyone ever went out there these days, especially since Peterssen had put the gardeners on leave when closing up the castle.
We stepped outside, into the courtyard. Everything was gnarled and barren in the throes of winter. But I ignored it all, leading Iduna straight to my favorite tree. My reading tree, I’d dubbed it, since I’d spent so much time from a young age sitting on the little bench underneath it, paging through books.
“Do you want to sit—?” I started to ask. But to my surprise, she had already swung herself into the tree itself, easily pulling herself up by her hands to reach the higher branches. I watched, mesmerized for a moment by her graceful, catlike movements, then decided to join her, hoisting myself up—albeit far more clumsily—onto one of the lower branches. A moment later, she crawled back down to my level, settling herself gracefully on a nearby branch. It was as if she were a bird that had lived in trees all her life.
She leaned toward me expectantly. “So, what is it?” she prompted.
I bit my lower lip. “Look, you have to keep this quiet, okay? They aren’t telling everyone the truth. They’re too afraid it’ll cause a panic.”