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“At first glance, it looked like the portrait of her family that hung in the Great Hall. But this painting had four people in it: the king, the queen, Elsa, and another little girl. The child was a few years younger than Elsa, and she was the spitting image of the king. She had wide-set blue eyes, bright red hair set in pigtails, and a sprinkle of freckles dotting her nose. She wore a pale green dress, and she was clutching Elsa's arm as if she might never let go.”

“I... I remember, she realized. A feeling came over her, so strong that for the smallest of moments, it warmed her soul. Pictures flew through her mind: She and Elsa talking in their bedroom, baking with their mother in the kitchen, running down the central staircase. Do the magic! she heard a voice say, and now she realized it was her younger self begging Elsa to create more snow. Together they had skated around the Great Hall and made snow angels. They had built Olaf! She used to marvel at Elsa's magic and always wanted her sister to use it. Do the magic! she heard herself beg again, and then she saw the moment when everything changed. In her haste to stop Anna from falling off a snow mound, Elsa had accidentally struck her. That was when she and Elsa had been ripped apart. She remembered everything!”

“For a split second, Elsa recalled a new memory of her younger self. She was building a snowman with another girl. They pulled the snowman around the room laughing. It was clear they loved each other. Her hands started to tingle in an unfamiliar way- they were warm- then the sensation was gone and she was left with a sharp headache. What was that? she wondered. The girl had to be in her imagination. She had never used magic before that week. Had she? Elsa stood up, her legs shaking. She held on to her bed frame to keep from falling. Heart pounding, fingers aching, she closed her eyes again and tried to remember the love she had just felt coursing through her veins. The emotion was stronger than fear. This feeling had come from building something out of love- a snowman for the two girls to enjoy.”

“Is this about my birth parents?" The frown lines on her mother's forehead deepened. "Well, yes..." "Did Freya know them?" Anna asked. She'd always wondered. Freya had been such a big part of her life since the beginning. Maybe Freya had known something Anna didn't. Silence hung over the room as they stared at one another. "It's okay," Anna finally said. "If you know who they are and don't want to tell me, I'll understand. It doesn't matter anyway." She reached for their hands. "You've been the best parents anyone could ever hope for." Papa and Ma reached in for a hug at the same time. They were a family of huggers and laughters. Anna clung to them, not wanting to let go.”

“Tomally had always wanted children of her own. Unfortunately, she'd never been able to conceive. Tomally said she had made her peace with it years ago, but Iduna suspected there was still a part of her that longed to be a mother. Iduna had always thought Tomally would make an exceptional one... and now she'd have the chance. Tomally loved hearing stories about Anna's spunk- Tomally had been just like her when they were young- and expressed delight whenever Iduna wrote about Anna doing something precocious. Iduna knew they'd get along well. She could just picture Tomally and Anna baking in their shop. Anna loved to bake and was always so proud of her krumkaker. Tomally would have to be the one to teach her new recipes now and help her keep up with her studies and learn about the world around her. It wasn't the childhood Iduna had envisioned for Anna, but it would still be a good life and excellent training for her future as a princess. When Elsa someday ascended to the throne, it would be Anna who understood their people and could help her sister relate to their kingdom. Their relationship would be much like the one she and Tomally had shared when they were children.”

“Anna practically leapt out of bed and skidded across the floor in her bare feet. She didn't bother looking in the mirror. Her long red hair, which she had unbraided the night before, couldn't be that messy, could it? Hmmm... maybe she'd give it a quick glance before she pulled off her nightdress. She looked in the mirror. Not good. Her hair looked like a bird's nest. Did she have time to fix it? She had to fix it. Where was her brush? It should have been on the desk like it always was, but it wasn't there. Where was it? Think, Anna. She remembered brushing her hair the morning before at the window seat, because it had the best view of Arendelle. Looking at Arendelle made her start dreaming about Arendelle and what she'd do when she someday moved there. She'd have her own bake shop, of course, and her cookies would be so popular that people would be lined up day and night to purchase them. She'd meet new people and make friends, and it all sounded so glorious she had started singing and spinning around the room with the hairbrush... Oh! Now she remembered where she had flung it.”

“Anna rushed onward, past another row of homes, and found her way to the farm where they kept their chicken coop. She opened the netting to collect a fresh batch of eggs. "Morning, Erik, Elin, and Elise," she greeted the hens. "I've got to move quick today. Freya is coming!" She gathered at least a dozen eggs, closed up the coop, and carefully carried the bucket and the tea back to the house. An older man was pulling a cart with flowers down the street. "Morning, Anna!" "Morning, Erling!" Anna called. "Gorgeous blooms today. Do you have my favorite?" Erling produced two stems of golden crocuses. The yellow flowers were as bright as the sun. Anna inhaled their sweet aroma. "Thank you! Come by later for some fresh bread. First batch should be out of the oven midmorning." "Thank you, Anna! I will!" he said, and Anna hurried along, trying not to crack the eggs or stop again. She had a habit of stopping to talk. A lot.”

“You never told me how everyone liked the sirupskake." "It was splendid!" she said, her smile returning. "Your fa- my husband asked that you bake another one soon for me to bring him." Freya was always tripping over her words like that. Anna did the same thing herself. She chalked it up to wanting to say so much in a short amount of time. She was like a pot of melting chocolate: the words bubbled over. "Did he like the candied oranges I placed on top?" "Yes! He said he'd never seen it done that way before." Anna shrugged. "I love to put my own spin on recipes. I like to be unique, if you haven't noticed." "I have." Freya smiled. "I think my husband would enjoy meeting you. You and I have a similar joyful spirit, while he"- she sighed- "carries the weight of the world on his shoulders, I'm afraid. Much like my daughter." Freya talked about her daughter a lot but unfortunately never brought her along for visits. From what Anna knew, the girl seemed whip smart and serious. Anna wished she could meet her so she could shake her up a bit. Everyone needed to let their hair down sometimes. Plus it would be nice to have a friend close to her own age.”