THERE WAS NO denying it—the weather, which he hadn’t thought could get worse—was definitely getting much, much worse. If the increasing winds and blinding snow were any indication, Elsa was running scared. Hans knew enough about her strange powers to know they were tied to her emotions, and ever since she had broken free of her cell, her emotions had been in overdrive.

And I had to go and make a big show of going after her, Hans thought as he ducked his head against another blast of arctic air. And so here I am, out in this godforsaken storm, blind and freezing and with no clue where I’m going.

Hans let out a groan. This was not what he had envisioned happening when he led the men to Elsa’s cell. His plan had been so simple, and with Anna taken care of, it had been far less complicated as well. Now he didn’t know what he was doing or what he would do when, or if, he found Elsa.

Stopping to catch his breath, Hans tried to get a sense of his surroundings. It wasn’t easy. The whiteout conditions made everything look the same. The ground right in front of him was no easier to discern than the mountain he knew loomed miles in the distance. Through the howling wind he could hear the occasional groan of wood being pressed by ice, so he knew that he hadn’t made it past the harbor. Occasionally, when the wind relented slightly, Hans could even see small patches of blue in the sky above.

Suddenly, he saw the faintest of shadows flash a short distance ahead. The shadow flitted in and out among the snow, but as the day grew brighter, the shadow began to take on a clearer form. To Hans’s delight, he saw that it was Elsa. Opening his mouth to let out a shout of victory, he quickly clamped it shut. It would do no good to give away his presence. Not yet, at least.

As quietly as possible, which luckily wasn’t hard on the soft, snow-covered ground, Hans began to close the distance between him and Elsa. When he was only a few feet away, he slowed his pace. Observing the queen, he saw that she was struggling as much as he was against the weather. The flight from the cell must have exhausted her, and she no longer seemed as in control of the storm as she had been before. That was just what Hans wanted to see. In her weakened state, Elsa would be far easier to kill.

“Elsa!” he shouted, pleased when he saw her startle. “You can’t run from this!” Taking a few steps forward, he stepped right in front of the queen.

Seeing Hans, Elsa stepped back nervously. “Just take care of my sister,” she begged as another gust of wind violently whipped the bottom of her dress around her ankles.

Hans bit back a cruel laugh. Did Elsa honestly think she was in any position to ask him for favors? He was the one in control. He alone knew all that had transpired. The queen had no idea. She didn’t know that he had locked Anna in a room and left her to die. She didn’t know that he wasn’t the lovesick prince he had made himself out to be or that he had plotted and planned his way to her throne. He could pretend, for just a few minutes longer, that he cared about Anna. He could use that to bring Elsa down. “Your sister?” he said, trying to sound distraught. “She returned from the mountain weak and cold. She said you froze her heart.”

“What?” Elsa said, shaking her head. “No.”

Hans watched in delight as Elsa’s face crumpled. Love, he thought bitterly. It only serves to make one weak—even one as powerful as Elsa.

As he readied himself to deliver his final blow, Hans put a hand on the hilt of his sword. “I tried to save her, but it was too late,” he said. “Her skin was ice. Her hair turned white…” As he detailed Anna’s physical deterioration, Elsa sunk to her knees. Each word seemed to stab at her more painfully than the sword he held at his side ever could. “Your sister is dead,” Hans finished. “Because of you.”

As the words left his mouth, Elsa let out a moan and dropped her head into her hands. Watching her, Hans felt a surge of pride. Once again, he had taken a situation that seemed out of his control and molded it until he came out the victor.

I honestly couldn’t have made that turn out any better. Unless, of course, I figured out a way to make the snow…

…stop?

The snow, he realized suddenly, had stopped. Hans corrected himself. It hadn’t stopped—it had frozen.

All around him, the snow hung suspended in midair. The wind had ceased to blow. Elsa, the epicenter of it all, sat motionless. If Hans hadn’t known better, he would have thought he was looking at a still life. Despite himself, Hans was awed by the beauty and power of the moment, and he took his hand off his sword.

He was witnessing something as foreign and unbelievable to him as magic—the grief that came from the loss of true love. Does she regret it all? Does she wish she had the chance to say good-bye?

Shaking his head, Hans pulled out his sword and stepped toward Elsa. There was no point in trying to get inside Elsa’s head. Love was an emotion for the weak, and he needed to strike while Elsa was at her weakest. Raising his sword, he took a step closer. It was time to put an end to this winter, and to Elsa, once and for all.