Desired Destiny (Frozen II/Jelsa)

8| Jittery

Elsa walked around. The moment Count Gregory gave away the white hair clue, finding Prince Jackson amongst a crowd of thousands appeared to be an effortless task. As soon as Elsa made herself sure there was no white hair—who was not an elder inside the ballroom—she walked outside to the castle yard.

There would be a second celebration held in the beautiful yard in which the queen and the princess would be commemorating the day with their citizens. Elsa had previously undone all of her icy decorations because the council advocated having the queen's winter ability as a surprise show for the foreign guests. Elsa couldn't wait to witness the smiley faces of her beloved citizens once again. Hopefully, the royalties and dignitaries from the other kingdoms would share the same adoration as well. She was soon greeted by the guards at the front door and a couple of servants. It took her only five seconds to find him out there.

There she saw the third line to the Northern Isles throne with his royal blue outfit—her future husband—who was busily chatting with one of the youngest servants in the castle. Dima was the boy's name, a dear nephew to Gerda. Dima has always been very shy and clumsy, but Elsa has admired him for his sense of music. Even though the boy is practically not really good at anything, he can serenade any girl with his piano skill.

She hadn't been able to see the prince's face since his back was facing her. She shot him an irked look. She was busy inside yet there he was—fooling around with a piping bag. Elsa was ready to confront him, but his deep voice stopped her steps.

"I was once like you—far much worse, actually, but then my sister taught me the starters. Follow my lead."

Follow my lead?

Is he teaching Dima how to put an icing on a cake?

Her anger vanished as soon as she heard the prince's laughter. She grew curious instead, and she decided to spy on the two, but then she figured she needed a cover.

"Good evening, Your Majesty," A servant with a large cloak greeted her as he pushed a wagon filled with white roses.

"Good evening," Elsa replied then directed at his cloak. "May I borrow your cloak just for a moment?"

"Of course, you may, Your Majesty." The man quickly took off his cloak and gave it to his queen. "I must apologize, though, if—at some point—it releases an improper scent." Elsa chuckled as the man helped his queen to wear the outer.

"Don't worry, it smells like roses." Elsa smiled as the man bowed gratefully and excused himself. Elsa's attention returned to the two males with each of their piping bags.

"You have your fingers and your nails. If you want to practice making a straight-line frosting, try to trace the piping bag on your fingers..." Everything she had wanted to lash out on him vanished just like that. She admired the gentleness of his voice and the way he carried himself around the boy. It was Elsa's first time witnessing a royal prince like him was kind enough to give directions to a servant boy.

My son is not your typical prince, Your Majesty.

King Nicholas's words swam back to her head. This prince really wasn't like any royalty she had ever seen. She had faced many men for the past three years. Most of them were arrogant and only cared about themselves—plus their title and wealth. Many would knock on her door and then ask for her hand in marriage just because she was the queen who is, in fact, a powerful kind with such prosperous kingdom and the power of the winter itself. Of course, she would rebuff them all and send them back to where they belong.

But, this one peculiar man drew her like a magnet.

Just like his father had said, he was nothing like those men. He could just storm inside the ballroom with his pride, disdainfully lifting his chin up and feeling proud of the image of being the future king, yet he preferred to linger around the courtyard—with all of its unfinished decorations and noisy servants—to selfishly guide a poor lad who didn't know how to put an icing on a cake.