Frozen 3

Chapter 101

Agnarr

23 November 1814

I didn't think I would come back alone. We left together and he didn't come back. He never comes back. I'm only sixteen and I'm already being asked to act like an adult, like someone who knows what they're doing. I don't. I just want to disappear. I can't be king. Not now. I have no one to guide me. No one, except maybe this girl.... But I know nothing about her except her first name, Iduna. No one in the kingdom and no one on the staff knows it, but she's one of our enemies. I'm the only one who knows. But more surprisingly, she saved my life. Why? I don't know. Would I have done the same for her? Maybe I don't know. We're both overwhelmed by it. We have always been taught that our peoples could never intertwine with each other and they wanted to prove it to us, once again in blood. My father is dead, her parents may be, and yet we have to act like we have nothing in common. I don't feel that way. I feel that this girl could teach me a lot, maybe even more than I imagine. She saved me, now it's up to me to ensure her survival among us.

1st February 1815

Iduna is one of those girls I've always been forbidden to approach. She's playful and unpredictable. She acts as she sees fit and doesn't care what anyone thinks of her. That's really the opposite of me. Every time I look at her, I'm filled with admiration and fear. I can't really explain it, it's something that's beyond me. All I know is I'm getting more intrigued by her. I do everything to spend as much time as possible with her, in the castle or in the garden, her favorite place. She doesn't like the walls around her, she'd rather see the sea, she's told me many times. I'd rather see her too. It soothes me to watch the waves come and go constantly, creating sheep of foam on the rocks against which they run aground. This same foam that flakes and creates white streaks entangled on the blue sea reminds me of his brown hair. They are free and floating in the air with the wind. Nothing holds them back or prevents them from tangling up. She is not like those other girls who spend their time doing perfectly drawn buns, on the contrary, she lets them fall back on her back, attracting all eyes on her. In fact, I would have to worry about her appearance. She should not attract attention.

17 June 1815

Iduna is not like before. She has changed, or rather, I have changed her. She begins to enter the codes and do what is expected of a young girl living in a castle. I feel that she misses her family and the enchanted forest. She does not love Arendelle, she feels oppressed. I understand her, but does she really have a choice? There's nothing there anymore. Nothing but a thick fog that prevents anyone from getting in and out. I sent troops there, they came back immediately, unable to pierce this strange mist. Iduna also went there. I secretly accompanied her there. We should not be surprised. The result was the same. We got stuck outside the forest. I then heard her screaming in pain, understanding that she would certainly never see her people again, unless there was a miracle. She fought with all her strength, pounding with both fists the fog that faced her. But he did not give in and pushed her away every time she approached it. I watched her do it for long minutes, looking sad, arms dangling, not knowing what to do. She threw herself once again against this impassable mist and I could not resist, I grabbed it by the hand and tightened it against me. To my surprise, she let herself be and broke into tears in my arms. It was the first time she accepted that I touch her to comfort her. Her wild side suddenly flew away, reminding me that she was only a twelve-year-old teenager, lost and alone, like me.

5 August 1815

This is the first time I see Iduna wearing a dress, a real dress. It was her maid who made it for her. She is beautiful. For two months, she has also become accustomed to buns. She does it every day, but in her own way, refusing to brush her wavy hair and simply gathering it at the back of her skull, always leaving two small strands falling down on either side of her face. It suits her very well. Sometimes I find myself thinking about her in the middle of a dance lesson or a history class. My instructor often gets angry when he notices that I'm not listening. But what's the point? I am forced to hear his uninterrupted flow of words since I know how to speak and walk. I prefer to think about her and our late afternoon games. It seems to me she has blue eyes but I'm not sure. I'll check the next time I see it. I love blue. I've always been fascinated by it.