## Chapter 2: Return to the Southern Isles

The rugged coastline of the Southern Isles rose up from the choppy waters like a jagged sword, its unforgiving beauty a stark contrast to the turmoil that churned within Hans's chest. As he stepped off the ship, the salty air filled his lungs, but it was a bitter reminder of his failures. The French dignitary's words echoed in his mind: "You'll face justice for your crimes." Hans knew that his family, particularly his father, King Westergard, would be waiting for him, their disappointment and anger a palpable force. As he walked towards the imposing figure of King Westergard, Hans felt the weight of his father's gaze upon him. The king's reputation for brutality and ruthlessness was well-known throughout the land, and Hans knew that he would have to face the consequences of his actions. The sound of seagulls filled the air, but it was a hollow sound, devoid of comfort. "You have brought shame to our family and our kingdom," King Westergard spat, his face red with rage. "You will pay for your mistakes, Hans. You will regret the day you ever crossed me." The king's words cut deep, and Hans felt a stinging sensation in his eyes. He had expected anger, but the venom in his father's voice was a painful reminder of his failure. The walk to the castle was a blur, with Hans's family members and guards surrounding him. He caught glimpses of his brothers, their faces twisted in scorn and disdain. Even Lars, who had always been the most compassionate of his siblings, looked at him with a mixture of disappointment and concern. The castle loomed before them, its stone walls a testament to the power and authority of the royal family. As they entered the castle, Hans was thrown into a damp and dark cell, the air thick with the smell of mold and decay. He was left alone, with only his thoughts to keep him company. The days passed slowly, and Hans's mental state began to deteriorate. The shame and guilt of his past actions consumed him, and he became increasingly erratic and violent. The king's men tried to restrain him, but Hans was too strong. He broke free, lashing out at anyone who came near him. It wasn't until he was subdued by a group of burly guards that he was finally restrained, strapped to a bed in a remote wing of the castle. The restraints dug into his skin, a painful reminder of his weakness. As the days turned into weeks, Hans's condition only worsened. His brothers mocked and taunted him, enjoying his downfall. But Lars, who had always been the most concerned about his brother's well-being, knew that something had to be done. He couldn't bear to see Hans like this, consumed by his own darkness. Lars decided to take a drastic step: he would reach out to Anna, the princess of Arendelle, who had been betrayed by Hans. He knew that Anna was still hurt by Hans's actions, but he hoped that she would be willing to forgive him and help him recover. The thought of Anna's kindness and compassion was a beacon of hope in the darkness. With a heavy heart, Lars sat down at his desk and wrote a letter to Anna, explaining the situation and begging her to come and care for Hans. He poured out his heart, sharing his concerns and his hopes for his brother's recovery. As he sealed the letter and sent it off, Lars couldn't help but feel a sense of unease. He knew that Anna's response was far from certain, and that the fate of his brother hung in the balance. The kingdom of the Southern Isles was a place of suffering, where the people lived in fear of their ruler and his sons. The heavy taxation and cruel punishments had created a sense of despair among the population. But Lars held onto the hope that Anna's arrival would bring a glimmer of light into their darkness. He could only hope that she would see the good in Hans and help him to recover. As the sun set over the kingdom, casting a golden glow over the castle, Lars felt a sense of trepidation. He knew that the road ahead would be difficult, but he was determined to save his brother. The thought of Hans's recovery was a beacon of hope, a reminder that even in the darkest of times, there was always a chance for redemption.