Hans' Snow Queen

Chapter One⎮Criminal

Criminal. A flame danced over the palm of Hans' bare hand. It cast shifting shadows over the bleak walls of his frigid cell. Criminal. The fallen prince who once attempted regicide—who nearly decapitated a beautiful Snow Queen and left her naïve sister for dead.

Scurrying rats and the constant drip of water comforted Hans from the gloom. He gazed upon one year's worth of tally marks scratched into the eroding stone. A life sentence, King Aleksander had said in Arendelle's court, with silvery words that consoled the bitter queen. Hatred stirred within Hans. Most of his brothers were happy to lock him away.

Hans clenched his fist which snuffed the fire out. They were afraid of him secretly ever since the East Wing burned down and their mother died soon after. Only Erik stood up for Hans, but he was weak against the rest.

"Your Highness," a voice drifted over, "Perhaps it is better to wait until morning?"

Darkness provided cover for his visitor's faces, but Hans instantly recognised who responded next. "General Lindberg, where is he?"

"Five cells down. Prince Erik! Be careful. He may be your brother, but a murderer still."

Click. Click. Erik's footsteps echoed in the dungeons. Hans waited until his brother arrived at the door. He peered up to someone who bore a striking resemblance to the late king. Stormy blue eyes and ash brown hair.

"I'm going to help you escape."

Hans raised his eyebrows. "What inspired such brotherly compassion?"

"Compassion." Erik scoffed, rubbing burn scars on his wrists. "Aleksander has sent me as a diplomat to reaffirm our trades with Arendelle. If you behave and follow my plan, you will accompany me and not have to spend a lifetime in prison."

"So if it's not compassion, what do you expect in return?"

Erik tossed Hans an iron key which he caught on reflex. "Tomorrow, wait for the signal."

The night passed slowly and Hans dozed into a nightmare. A young man was pulled from the wreckage. He had been trying to protect a servant girl from the East Wing's inferno. Her hair crumbled to ash and suddenly, Hans trod icy water as a Snow Queen mocked him from above.

Now Hans wrapped cloth around his trembling hands. Although Hans was mostly isolated, he took the precautions instilled in him since childhood. The gloves will help.

There was loud rapping on the cell door. A bushy-haired woman entered carrying a bowl of gruel which Hans received gratefully.

"Hans," she whispered, "I'm going to create a diversion. Use it to escape unnoticed and meet Erik at the courtyard."

Within five minutes, he could hear the shouts of guards. Apparently, Erik's accomplice had set another prisoner loose. "Stop him! Stop him! He's a thief!"

Using the iron key, Hans checked for guards and left the dungeon, deeming the woman's diversion successful. He took the servant passage throughout the palace because no guard wandered there.

An early March sun graced the courtyard. Lavishly dressed officials strolled about while children played. Clumps of purple heather swayed gently in the cool breeze around a fountain of glittering water. Hans felt quite vulnerable and retreated to a corner. Soldiers guarding the gates daydreamed often, but better to play it safe.

Someone tapped Hans' shoulder, causing him to jump.

"Relax, it's only me."

Hans breathed a sigh of relief before noticing who Erik had brought with him. "Sitron? Snø?"

They trotted through bustling streets toward the harbour. Hans was reminded of fifteen years ago when his sixteen-year-old brother taught him to ride a horse. Those were happier times.

At the harbour, the Janus awaited them. Her prow was curved and decorated with a two-faced lion. Upon the masts were blood red sails topped with the Southern Isles' flag. They slid off their horses and boarded. Hans kept his head down.

"My cabin," said Erik, gesturing to a door.

The wood seemed to glow warmly and smelled of lemons. Out a round window the Southern Isles grew small with distance. Erik tossed Hans a disguise and plopped on his bed.

"You asked me what I expected in return?" He waited for Hans to nod. "Keep Queen Elsa away from Arendelle three days into our visit. I'm going to overthrow her. After that you can disappear."

It surprised him. Erik was never power-hungry, but a lot can change in one year. Good people go bad and criminals shirked justice.

Erik went on to explain details such as Hans' false identity, news of his escape, and the likelihood of evading pursuers. A premonition of disaster grew inside Hans.

So many things could go wrong. Elsa might not take the bait. Erik's plan to conquer Arendelle may not work—a plan Erik had barely shared with him.

What if Hans kept running his entire life? Maybe there were no second chances.

gdGltZSBhbmQgc3RhcnMNCldpc2hpbmcgdG8gZml4IGhpcy