“He calls you ‘Snowflake’,” Julia whispered not-so-quietly.
Elsa’s eyebrows rose. “Oh?”
Hans sighed from his desk. “What prattle are you telling her, Julia?”
“Nothing,” Julia replied sweetly. She turned back to Elsa and rolled her eyes, giving a slight indicative jerk of her head in her father’s direction. Elsa tried to not giggle at the child’s antics, lest she encourage more mischief from the little snowmaid.
“Well, it doesn’t sound like nothing,” Hans groused. But he remained at his desk, his pen still moving. Elsa was somewhat impressed that the former prince could maintain his task without pause, given the distractions which Elsa and Julia posed.
“You’re imagining things, again, Father.”
“I don’t think I am, Snowdrop.”
Elsa cleared her throat slightly, interrupting the little word skirmish between father and daughter. “Perhaps we should go and give your father some quiet, Julia…”
“No, no.” Hans put down his pen and turned half-way around in his chair, facing Elsa and Julia. “Julia still has an hour left to finish her afternoon reading.” His expression was stern and his tone authoritative, leaving little leeway for argument.
Julia let out a groan, long and dramatic, dropping her arms at her sides. It reminded Elsa of Anna’s reactions to her own studies when they were children. Though Elsa had maintained her distance from Anna, the young princess’s distaste for her studies had been audible.
“Yes, Father,” the snowmaid grumbled, folding her arms against her chest and dropping her shoulders. She turned to Elsa briefly, giving the Queen a tiny “sorry”, before she then returned to her desk, dragging her feet all the while. Little lines of snow were left behind wherever her feet had stepped.
Hans gave a resigned sigh when he saw the snow, shaking his head. “It’s only an hour more, Snowdrop,” he reminded her. “Once you’re finished, you can go play.”
Like her father had, Julia sighed. “Yes, Sir.”
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