~𝒩𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓇 𝐿𝑒𝓉 𝒴𝑜𝓊 𝒢𝑜~

17. The Sins of Royalty

Elsa's POV

If I could freeze my own heart to prevent these deplorable feelings and emotions from infecting me I would.

My ice heels click against the flooring of the palace so hard I wonder if the dagger-like heels will crack the floor as I nervously pace the empty halls of my place.

The silence rings in my ears with mockery intent I'm sure, as my reflection in the red ice walls follows me like a stalker. I guess reflections and shadows are attached stalkers to everyone. Keeping tabs on us, always there. Subsequently, my shadow heaviness might as well be identical to the struggling weight of my own purple cape from my coronation ceremony from almost four years ago.

I still remember how hard it was to walk up the mountain with that cape attached to my neck hanging off my shoulders and back like an oversized leech.

I look out a window. The sun is a quarter of the way in the sky, almost dusk.

Maybe I'm unnecessarily paranoid or maybe my anxiety is right.

Where are they? Olaf can handle himself but (Y/N)...she has no powers, she can be fierce, yes, but she is still a normal human. A human that needs to be protected.

I hear an intangible whisper from my left, halt, and turn my head. My neck hairs stand and goosebumps spread across my arms. There's only one time this happens.

They wake up.

They want to interact.

They come to torment me.

"Not the voices again." I groan scrutinizing the ice wall while rubbing my temples. I don't need this right now.

The walls turn from yellow to red.

I don't need to deal with the fact my magic is weakening. But unlike when I ran away from Arendalle and my coronation, I can't run from this or them. And deep down in my gut, I feel as if it's only going to get worse.

So when a modifying face presses against the inside of the wall, I'm hardly surprised.

"Shoo," I tell it in my queenly voice. "You're long past and under my control. Go back into the walls and leave me alone." The face however shocks me by shaking its head no.

My heart beats in my ears.

It's—it's conscious?

No; my servants have been nothing but zombies for years. They have come to the wall with glazed eyes and occasional moans in the wind but haven't—haven't tried interacting with me like this.

I flick my hand in the direction of the person in the wall, a thicker layer of ice attaching to the wall and spreading throughout the entire ice castle. A little more protection to keep enemies away from the outside and inside the walls.

'And also to keep (Y/N) inside.'

Why do I think such things? These feelings of intense protection and infatuation over (Y/N) are so strange.

Hopefully (Y/N) hasn't noticed any oddities with my magic, or how after some usages of my magic, I'm overcome by exhaustion.

The red light emitting from the walls overcast my face as I blink, my gaze fixated on the new layer of ice, with me feeling as if my powers are being transferred out of my body. Worst of all, the weakening of my powers seems to be correlating with the anniversary when IT happened.

In the wall of ice, I watch as my memories are shown on the walls.

Memories of me as a little girl using my powers freely outside of my room.