Chapter 3: To King Westergaard

The villagers had been kind and generous, offering Iduna food, shelter, and warmth. But as she sat by the fire, sipping a cup of tea and nibbling on a piece of dry bread, she couldn't shake the feeling that she couldn't stay here forever. The villagers had mentioned King Westergaard, and how he might be able to help her. Iduna wasn't sure if she wanted to seek the king's aid, but she knew she had to try. Erik, the older fisherman, seemed to sense her unease. He placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Don't worry, Frau," he said. "King Westergaard is a just ruler. He'll help you get back on your feet." Iduna nodded, though she wasn't so sure. She had heard stories about King Westergaard, about his harsh treatment of his people and his own family. But she had no choice. She had to try. The next morning, Erik and his son, a burly young man named Olaf, offered to escort Iduna to King Westergaard's castle. Iduna agreed, and they set off early, walking through the misty dawn air. As they approached the castle, Iduna's nerves began to fray. The castle loomed above them, its stone walls imposing and foreboding. Iduna could feel the weight of the king's power bearing down on her. When they arrived at the castle, Iduna was greeted by a liveried guard, who eyed her warily. "What business do you have here?" he asked. Erik stepped forward. "This woman was shipwrecked on our shores, Your Honor," he said. "We brought her here in the hopes that the king might be able to help her." The guard nodded, and led them to a grand throne room. King Westergaard sat on his throne, his face stern and unyielding. Iduna curtsied, trying to hide her nervousness. The king's eyes narrowed as he looked her up and down. "So, you're the queen of Arendelle," he said, his voice dripping with disdain. "I've heard of you. You're a long way from home, aren't you?" Iduna stood up straight, meeting the king's gaze. "I was on a diplomatic mission when my ship was wrecked," she said. "I didn't mean to intrude on your kingdom." The king snorted. "You're not intruding," he said. "You're a guest. For now." Iduna felt a shiver run down her spine as the king's eyes seemed to bore into her soul. She knew that she was at his mercy, and that she had to tread carefully. The king gestured to a nearby servant. "See to the queen," he said. "Make sure she's comfortable and well cared for. I'll have my physician attend to her." The servant bowed and led Iduna away, as the king's eyes followed her. Iduna couldn't shake the feeling that she was in grave danger, and that King Westergaard's help came with a steep price. As she was led to her chambers, Iduna caught a glimpse of the king's family. Crown Prince Caleb, a tall and arrogant young man, stood by the king's side, his eyes sneering at Iduna. Prince Lars, a younger man with a kinder face, smiled at her, but Iduna could sense the fear behind his eyes. And then there was Prince Hans, a young man with a haunted look in his eyes. Iduna felt a pang of curiosity about him, but she had no time to dwell on it. She was led to her chambers, where a warm bath and a soft bed awaited her. For the first time in days, Iduna felt a sense of relief wash over her. She was safe, for now. But she knew that she had to be careful, for in the treacherous world of King Westergaard's court, nothing was as it seemed.