The Young Diplomat [Frozen II post-canon]

A Visitor

"Inga," Frederick called out from the corridor, catching up to his sister just before she walked outside, "I didn't see you when I was studying today."

"Oh..." she shrugged as she opened the door, "I got a lot done yesterday and Monday, so the tutors told me to take today off."

He followed her out the door.

"So did you?" he asked, blinking at the sudden sunlight, "take a day off?"

"You didn't see me," she remarked, looking over her shoulder, "Does that answer your question?"

"Right, I guess so," he nodded, walking ahead a bit before turning around. "Speaking of Monday... Did you hear anything else about that meeting they were having?"

"I never heard anything about that," Inga admitted, "but I imagine if anything... important... was decided, they'll tell us. I was actually helping Mama with correspondence today, and I tried to bring it up, but she didn't think there was anything worth telling me..."

"You do that a lot, don't you? Writing letters for her?"

"I'm sure she'd let you help if you asked. It's not usually that difficult. You always write if someone is born or dies or gets married, and be sure to write in the correct language..."

"That's mostly French or German, I'd imagine. Maybe some English?"

"Count Esterhazy still writes exclusively in Latin."

"You can keep that one," Frederick laughed.

Frederick and Inga sat down on a bench at the edge of the garden. They could hear Anton and Peder somewhere nearby.

"Should they be doing that?" Inga asked, listening to their laughing and shouting.

"I can't see them, and I have no idea what it is, but they probably shouldn't be," Frederick admitted.

They heard Nanny scolding them, and Sofia repeating whatever Nanny said, for good measure. The twins soon came around the corner, looking dejected.

"Where's that friend of yours?" Peder asked.

"You mean Lars?" Frederick replied, "I haven't seen him today."

"Too bad," Anton said as he kicked at the dirt. "I like him, even if he does have silly hair."

"What's silly about his hair?" Inga asked. "It's not that different from yours, you know."

"Oh, I didn't mean the color, just the mustache. I don't have one of those, at least."

"And you won't for a long time," his sister told him.

"Won't what?" Lars inquired, approaching them from the direction of the courtyard.

"Oh, nothing important, just something silly they were talking about," Inga said quickly.

Frederick laughed loudly. Inga shot a glare at him, raising her eyebrows.

"Um, well, obviously I missed some inside joke, but that's fine," Lars shrugged.

"Oh, no, we were actually just talking about you," Peder informed him.

"Really?" Lars blanched. "Nothing bad, I hope?"

"No, nothing bad," assured Peder, "except Anton doesn't like your mu... oof!"

Anton had elbowed his brother sharply.

"I think neither of you gets to talk for the next hour," scolded Frederick, trying not to laugh more.

"I have a brother, you know," laughed Lars, "so I think I can handle whatever it was."

"That doesn't mean they should be talking about people we barely know," Inga interrupted, looking at her brothers. Frederick, at least, was trying to behave. The twins were both standing on the other bench, discussing the merits of climbing over the wall.