**Chapter 4: The Royal Court**

As Iduna entered the grand throne room, King Westergaard sat on his throne, his piercing blue eyes scrutinizing her every move. The cold, dark chamber seemed to suffocate her, its stone walls adorned with faded tapestries that whispered tales of a long-forgotten era. The air was heavy with the scent of old wood and dust, and Iduna's heart pounded in her chest as she approached the throne. "So, you are the Queen of Arendelle," King Westergaard said, his deep voice commanding attention. His words dripped with skepticism, and Iduna could sense the weight of his gaze upon her. Iduna stood tall, her brown hair neatly tied back in a coronet braid, its intricate design a testament to her royal upbringing. "I am," she replied, her voice steady. "And I am grateful for your hospitality, Your Majesty." King Westergaard raised an eyebrow, his expression unreadable. "I must admit, I am intrigued by your story, Queen Iduna. A shipwreck, a survival against all odds... it's a tale worthy of a bard." His voice was laced with a hint of mockery, and Iduna's instincts screamed at her to be cautious. The king's advisors and courtiers stood around the perimeter of the room, their faces a mixture of curiosity and suspicion. Iduna could sense their eyes upon her, weighing her, assessing her. She felt like a specimen under a microscope, her every move scrutinized and judged. As she stood before the king, Iduna couldn't help but think of Agnarr, her trusted advisor who had perished in the shipwreck. A pang of sadness washed over her, but she pushed it aside, focusing on the task at hand. King Westergaard leaned forward, his eyes glinting with calculation. "Tell me, Queen Iduna, what brings you to our shores? And what do you hope to achieve here?" Iduna took a deep breath, choosing her words carefully. "I sought to understand the extent of my daughter's powers, Elsa's. Ahtohallan, the mystical river, was said to hold the secrets of her abilities. But the storm... it separated me from my advisor, Agnarr. I fear he may not have survived." The king's expression softened slightly, and for a moment, Iduna saw a glimmer of compassion in his eyes. But it was fleeting, and soon his mask of indifference slipped back into place. "I see," he said. "Well, Queen Iduna, you are welcome to stay in our kingdom for as long as you need. We will provide you with food, shelter, and any assistance you require." Iduna nodded, her gratitude genuine. "Thank you, Your Majesty. I am grateful for your kindness." As she left the throne room, Iduna couldn't shake off the feeling that King Westergaard's kindness came with a price. She sensed that there was more to the king's motives than met the eye, and she vowed to be cautious in her dealings with him. The corridors of the castle were cold and dark, the stone floors echoing with the sound of her footsteps. Iduna followed a servant to her quarters, a small but comfortable room with a fire crackling in the hearth. She felt a sense of relief wash over her as she sat down on the bed, her body weary from the ordeal. As she rested, Iduna's thoughts turned to her daughters, Elsa and Anna. She wondered what they were doing, and if they were safe. She also thought about Agnarr, and the hopes that she had been holding onto. But most of all, she thought about the king and his court, and the secrets that lay hidden beneath the surface. The fire crackled and spat, casting flickering shadows on the walls. Iduna felt a sense of unease settle over her, a sense that she was walking a thin line between safety and danger. But she steeled herself, determined to navigate the treacherous waters of King Westergaard's court with caution and wit. As she drifted off to sleep, Iduna knew that she had to be vigilant, for in the world of royalty, allegiances shifted like the wind, and the line between friend and foe was often blurred.