Mr. and Mrs. Frost [completed]

XIV: Teasing

ELSA

Elsa walked into Oaken's office, the sharp click of her boots against the stone floor echoing in the otherwise silent room. She closed the door gently behind her, leaving the bustling energy of the household and Jack's lingering presence outside. This time, she sought solitude, a brief respite away from the eyes that watched her every move, even as she pursued the dangerous task ahead.

As she entered, Oaken, ever the epitome of respect, immediately stood from his desk, his broad form towering as he bowed deeply before her. "Your Majesty," he spoke, his voice reverent, as though the weight of his words carried the entire kingdom's honor. He motioned toward the swivel chair by his desk, but Elsa merely smiled faintly, shaking her head.

With a graceful air, she moved to the plush sofa across from the large oak table, her movements fluid, regal. She sank into the cushions, her posture still straight, despite the comfort of the setting. Her eyes never strayed from Oaken, watching him as he resumed his place by the desk.

"How's everything here, Oaken?" she asked, her voice calm, but with an edge that suggested the burden of her position never left her.

"Everything is fine, Your Majesty," Oaken replied, though his voice carried a hint of tension, as if he were keeping something back. Elsa didn't respond right away, letting the silence stretch between them, a silence thick with unspoken words.

A few seconds passed before Oaken, his brow furrowing with concern, cleared his throat and spoke again. "Your Majesty," he began, his voice tentative, "May I ask you a question?"

Elsa arched an eyebrow, the hint of a smile playing at the corners of her lips. She couldn't help but chuckle softly. "You've already asked me one, Oaken," she teased, her tone light but knowing.

He hesitated, then continued, his words heavy with concern. "I've heard all the details about the case you're currently handling—from His Excellency himself."

Elsa's expression hardened slightly, a flicker of annoyance flashing in her eyes. "Grand Pabbie shouldn't have shared any information about this case with you, especially since it's classified," she said, her voice quiet but firm.

Oaken's eyes softened, the edges of his rugged features betraying the care he held for her. "I'm only worried, Your Majesty," he said, the words laced with a genuine concern that spoke of years spent in service to her family. "The case you're handling... it's far more dangerous than you realize."

Elsa leaned back in her seat, her fingers idly tracing the fabric of the sofa, though her gaze never wavered from Oaken. "I can take care of myself, Oaken," she said, the conviction in her voice as strong as the frozen walls of her kingdom. "You don't need to worry."

Oaken, however, wasn't easily reassured. His expression darkened, his words becoming more insistent. "I think now is the best time for you to return to the palace, Your Majesty."

Elsa shook her head, her platinum blonde hair cascading over her shoulder as she sighed. "I will return soon, but for now, I need to finish this case." Her eyes flashed with determination. "It's my duty."

Oaken leaned forward, his eyes narrowing as he studied her. "I wonder," he said softly, almost too softly, "if it's really the case that's keeping you from the palace."

Elsa's brow furrowed. "What are you implying, Oaken?" she asked, her voice cool, but the tension in her posture betrayed the storm brewing within her.

Oaken hesitated before speaking, his words measured and deliberate. "I saw the way you look at him," he said, his tone a mix of caution and something else, something far more personal.