It was peaceful in the castle, with everyone asleep except Ingrid. As she padded down the hallways, having completed her checks and preparations for the following morning, she was looking forward to slipping back into Elsa's bed. With a bedsheet between them, of course. Neither of them knew where they stood that evening, and while Ingrid didn't want to risk hurting Elsa or Anna, she did want to be there for her queen.

As Ingrid returned from the kitchen, making sure breakfast would be in order, she heard a voice calling her name. It was muffled, but it was saying, "Ingrid. Ingrid." It seemed to be coming from the wine cellar. And it sounded like Elsa.

Did I wake her? Is she worried about me? Is she all right? Ingrid entered the room and saw nothing but racks of bottles and shelves of supplies. But she heard the voice again, coming from behind a cabinet. "Elsa? Your Majesty? Where are you?"

"Go to the cabinet. Lift the right side and pull it towards you."

She did so, and it moved slowly but easily, like a church door. Behind was a short flight of steps leading downward, making a right-angle turn halfway down. At the bottom was a large stone room, with windows like letter-slots along the top of one wall. An iron bedframe rusted in the far corner.

And in the middle of the room was a monolith of dark blue-green ice, rough-sided, nearly reaching the ceiling. "Hello?" she said as she stepped gingerly forward.

The far side of the monolith was flat and smooth. For a moment it reminded her of the memorial stones for Elsa's parents. But there was no carving on the flat side. It was mirror-smooth. She saw her reflection, hands clasped in front of it, but then it flickered away.

In its place was a reflection of the queen, although not exactly. Her blonde hair was upswept and spiky. Her eyes had neither whites nor pupils, simply a blue-white snowflake pattern on each, but they crinkled as she smiled warmly at Ingrid. In Elsa's voice the reflection said, "Miss Andersen! What a pleasure to finally meet you. Elsa's told me so much about you. I must apologize for the informality of shouting 'Ingrid,' but I had to talk with you and shouting 'Miss Andersen' seemed oddly formal under the circumstances." Her hand hid her lips as she chuckled.

"Ma'am," said Ingrid, and curtseyed.

"You are a pretty little thing, in your own quiet way. I can see why Elsa's taken with you, Ingrid. May I call you 'Ingrid'?"

"As you wish." Ingrid's face remained placid as her mind raced. Is this a dream? Am I already back in bed?

"Thank you. And you may call me... Oh dear, I don't seem to have a name." The reflection put her palms together and touched her fingertips to her lips as she thought. "How about 'Frida'? That's a friendly-sounding name. And I do hope we can be friends, Ingrid, if that's not too forward." She smiled broadly again.

Ingrid gave a small nod. "I hope so, too." She swallowed, licked her dry lips. "I...don't believe we've met. Please forgive me, but may I ask who you are?"

"Oh, do you mind if I sit? I wish I could offer you a chair, but I can't really do anything on your side." Ingrid nodded her assent, and Frida conjured a chair of ice and sat down, one leg crossed over the other. "I'm, well, a lot like you, really. We exist to serve and comfort Her Majesty. In my case 'exist' is a bit more literal." Registering Ingrid's furrowed brow, she went on. "I'm being a bit oblique, aren't I? Well, Elsa comes down here to think now and again. She's been thinking a lot about you lately, you and Anna. And like many people, sometimes when she's introspective she talks to her reflection in the mirror. And she so needed someone to talk to that when she created this mirror, she created me."

Ingrid blinked. "She's been thinking about...me? Anna and...me?"

"More than you can imagine. The poor dear. She loves Anna, and you, and it's tearing her up inside. She keeps a brave face. She wouldn't want to burden either of you, she cares about you both so much. She couldn't talk to you and Anna about you and Anna. That'd be..." She pursed her lips. "Awkward. And hard for her to be honest for fear of hurting you. She's thoughtful and caring to a fault, isn't she? And so she has me to talk to."

Ingrid nodded. "I see."

"But who am I to talk to? I knew you'd be pacing around here – I'm Elsa's reflection, I know what she knows – and I really wanted to have a word. Will you... Will you help me to help her? Please?"

"Of course," said Ingrid.

"Of course," echoed the reflection, smiling contentedly. "Anything for our queen. The problem is simple. She loves you and Anna, and it hurts her to love both of you. But it's so hard for her to choose, for fear of hurting either of you." She conjured an ice crystal in her palm, fiddled with it thoughtfully, then tossed it aside. "I mean, her and Anna. They have so much in common. They're both royal-born and royal-raised. They've loved each other deeply, since childhood. They've been through so much together; the long isolation, the shipwreck that – you know – and the events of the coronation and after. Sisters, friends, colleagues, and now lovers. Can you imagine two people any closer than that?"

Ingrid shook her head.

"And then there's you. Her pet, her protege, her project. She must feel a lot of responsibility for you, since she made you who you are, practically single-handed. She gave you so much."

Ingrid nodded, her eyes shining.

"And what did she have to work with? A sweet, hardworking, devoted, uneducated farm-girl. Meek where she's confident, quiet where she's outspoken. A born follower and a born leader. Not much alike at all. It must have been very...enlightening...for her to spend time with you." Frida paused to examine Ingrid's reaction. "It's all true, isn't it?"

"Yes," croaked Ingrid, then cleared her throat. "Yes, it is."

"And of course she must feel an obligation – I mean, a debt of gratitude – that you were there for her when she was estranged from her first great love. And that you could comfort her when she was longing for Anna. You would do anything for the Queen."

"I would."

"Always caring for her, always protecting her. Always wanting her to be happy, never wanting her to be hurt."

Ingrid nodded, sniffled. "I would do anything for her."

"I know, dear, I know. You have such a giving, loving spirit. Which makes it so ironic that because you let her fall in love with you, her heart's being torn in two." Frida put her hand against her side of the mirror, as if she wanted to touch Ingrid and comfort her. "And you're forcing her to choose."

"I... I never meant."

"Of course not! And who could blame you? She is so beautiful and wise and kind, why wouldn't you want to have her to yourself, whether you were worthy of her or not? And how were you to know that she was about to finally, finally have the consummation with Anna that she'd been longing for since...who knows how long?"

"I..." Ingrid shook her head, unable to speak.

"There, there. I know it's painful for her to be pulled in two directions like this, and even if you are the reason you can't blame yourself. You're just a pure, simple girl from Lillefjord, doing your best, however it turns out."

"It... It doesn't have to be this way." Ingrid straightened her shoulders.

"What do you mean?"

"I can...make the choice simple for her. I can make her stop loving me."

Frida put her hand to her cheek. "You would do that? For her?"

"Yes."

"It may hurt her at first, even if it is for the best."

Ingrid pondered, then nodded. "It's for the best."

Frida stood and stepped as close to Ingrid as she could. "I am so proud of you, Ingrid. You are a good and noble and devoted servant. I am so proud."

"Thank you."

"And I am so glad we had this little talk." Frida sighed deeply. "This is a huge weight off my mind. You have no idea how grateful I am. You are... I'll just say it again. I am so proud."

"Thank you." Ingrid curtseyed. "If you'll excuse me...?"

"Oh, of course. Of course. And I'm so happy to have met you. Good night."

Ingrid left, closing the secret door behind her. In her mind she was already making up the divan for bed.