Oaken experienced a moment of what Olaf would call trepidation that the rapacious reindeer had devoured the remaining two cookies. Glancing at the reception desk, he confirmed the signature treats were safe. The carrot balm, however—

  SCHLURHP!

  The animal’s tongue swirled around his entire mouth twice. It looked like a red waterspout—all circular motion and drops of moisture. Instead of looking contrite, the reindeer grinned. Large eyes gleaming, he bobbed his head and chuckled as if to say, Good stuff, ja?

  The vat was completely empty. Oaken opened his mouth to chide the animal, but before he could get the words out, Sven dropped to the ground.

  Oofta! Just as Granduncle Hugo predicted—his concoctions had finally killed someone!

  “Sven? Hoo-hoo!”

  To his immense relief, the reindeer’s tail began to wag. Rolling onto his back, the massive creature wriggled euphorically back and forth in the snow. Like a little cat with an olive, the reindeer began to make mewling noises.

  “Oaken, have you seen Sve—” Kristoff ran up the lane, his typically carefree face puckered in concern. “What did you do to my reindeer?”

  “What did I do to him?” Oaken’s hands fisted on his hips. “You should be asking, what did he do to me?”

  With a bout of sudden remorse, the reindeer stopped rolling in the snow. But he couldn’t quite keep his dopey smile in check.

  “Sven?” Kristoff glared at the reindeer, waiting as the creature got to his feet. Kristoff stepped closer until they were big nose to big nose and sniffed. “Open up!”

  The creature’s eyes rolled up toward the sky before he reluctantly parted his mouth. Kristoff inhaled deeply, declaring, “Huh? Carrots and walnuts.”

  Unable to conceal his pleasure, Sven’s tail commenced wagging as he brayed and bobbed his head up and down.

  “Ja. Sven ate most of my signature cookies and all of my carrot-balm face mask, for the fresh sweat-glow.”

  Still leaning toward the animal, but turning to face Oaken, Kristoff said in his deeper Sven voice, “I’m so sorry, Mr. Wandering Oaken. I just couldn’t help myself. Walnuts and carrots are my favorite.” The reindeer brayed again to emphasize his agreement.

  In his regular tone, Kristoff said, “Now, Sven, we talked about this. You can’t devour things that don’t belong to you without permission.”

  “I know. I really am sorry.” Why did the blond fellow insist on speaking for a creature that could clearly speak for itself? Oaken found the peculiar habit unnecessary—but was quick to overlook others’ oddities. His customers came in all shapes, sizes, and species.

  The contrite expression on Sven’s face, still slightly rapturous from his latest pilfered snack, spoke volumes. The creature did feel remorse. And Oaken had gained some valuable test information in the process. “No worries. I can replace what was eaten.”

  If Hugo and Lars hadn’t demolished all the walnuts…

  Kristoff chuckled. “Maybe you should consider repackaging the carrot stuff as a reindeer treat?”

  Sven brayed enthusiastically. The shaggy companion had provided valuable cross-species consumption testing on more than one occasion.

  Oaken was already ahead of them in calculating the potential to delight more than just his two-legged guests. “Ja. I will give it a good think.”

  “While I’m here, can I get a bottle of your 3-in-1 Reindeer Wash?” Although originally intended for reindeer, Kristoff and his troll family also used the product—thus the 3-in-1.

  “Right this way.” Oaken led him through the recently reorganized Hygge for Home section. “North Mountain Ice or Fresh Fjord?”

  “Better give me both. Bulda prefers Mountain Ice, but Sven and I like the Fjord better.”

  It did have a most pleasing woodsy aroma. “Do you require anything else? In addition to colorful traditional towels for the sauna, we have expanded our line to include smaller, happy-drying-of-the-hands towels.”

  “Why would I need that when I have trousers?”

  “How about a colorful cloth for washing?” He waved the patterned square under Kristoff’s nose. “Makes bathing more fun, ja?”

  “If you say so.”

  Kristoff was a tough sell. However, there were other ways he could be useful. “Did you see our upcoming sauna events? You and Queen Anna would especially like Oaken’s Jokens Night of Comedy. A hilarious evening of family anecdotes, Papa Peder’s puns, and Hoo-hoo! jokes.” He also hoped to get some of Arendelle’s best storytellers to come and regale guests on a semi-regular basis once the events gained notoriety.

  “I’ve been working on a Hoo-hoo! joke that you will enjoy, ja?”

  “Uh, sure. I guess.” Kristoff frowned. At least Oaken presumed that was the case, but since the fellow had a limited range of expressions, one could never be sure with him. But an audience was an audience.…

  “Hoo-hoo!” After a moment of uncomfortable silence, he added, “Now you say, ‘Who could it be that is knocking at my door?’”

  “Do I have to?” Kristoff shrugged. “Can’t I just say, ‘Come in?’”

  “Do you want to hear the joke or not?”

  “Actually, I really don’t care—”

  “Hoo-hoo!”

  “Fine,” Kristoff grumbled, before unenthusiastically doing his part. “Who could it be that is knocking at my door?”

  “It is I, ELLL-SA.”

  Again, Kristoff hesitated. Oaken lifted his brows in encouragement, eliciting a very lackluster, “Elsa who?”

  “Let me in. ELLL-SA I turn your sauna into an icehouse.”

  Without a change to his expression or voice, Kristoff replied, “Good one.”

  THUMP!

  Oaken and Kristoff hurried toward the sound. Curled into a ball on the porch, Sven proceeded to take a nap. Kristoff took hold of the creature’s collar. “Come on, buddy. You can’t sleep here.”

  The reindeer rolled on his back, legs in the air, and proceeded to snore. After a couple more unsuccessful attempts to wake him, Kristoff turned to Oaken. “Sorry. I’ve never seen him like this. Are you sure Sven is going to be okay?”

  “Ja. I will keep an eye on him.” Kristoff was a good customer. Their relationship had come a long way since the misunderstanding during the Big Summer Blowout. And as sorry as Sven felt for his behavior, Oaken felt worse for breaking him.

  “I’ll add a quart of lutefisk so we have good feelings.” While he rushed to get the jar, Kristoff fiddled with the sign on the door.

  Holding a small Oaken’s bag for the toting of goods and the jar of lutefisk that Oaken had just brought him, Kristoff cast a final glance at his reindeer. “Just send him home when he wakes up, I guess.”

  “Sure thing. Bye-bye.”

  Oaken waved reassuringly until Queen Anna’s beau disappeared from sight. He’d meant what he said about keeping an eye on Sven while he righted what had gone off course during the day. He needed to heat the sauna, prepare ingredients for another batch of carrot balm, expel Hugo and Lars from the store, tidy up, and shell any walnut he could salvage. Oofta! If he hurried, he could still manage a quick sweat before family dinner.

  He started a fire in the sauna. He would need to replenish the basket with fresh towels after he ousted the squirrels from the reception area. Scouring the shelves of merchandise for two sets of beady eyes, he could not find any signs of the furry bandits except for the carnage left behind. They’d vanished into thin air along with the nuts. Perhaps they’d exited the same way they’d entered.

  And perhaps he could use raisins instead of walnuts in the cookies. He would have a good think on that while he straightened up.

  He righted various tokens, brushing fragments of walnut shells onto the floor. Next he swept up the debris and uncluttered the reception desk. In the cold-storage room, he set aside the necessary ingredients for carrot balm (carrots, ginger, mushrooms, and the like), which he would prepare in the morning while Oaken’s Family-Friendly Cozy Cottages and Sauna signature warm raisin cookies were baking.

  Finally free of reindeer, snowgies, and squirrels, Oaken intended to salvage the remaining sliver of afternoon for himself. He added water to the sauna’s hot stones to create steam. He rewarmed the two remaining cookies to the perfect temperature, set the single jar of carrot-balm face mask—slash possible reindeer treat—on the reception desk, and changed into a fresh towel. Time to enjoy the hygge!

  “Hey-ho!”

  Oaken looked up to see two strangers in unfamiliar garb approaching. “We are Ethan and Joseph of the Southern Isles. We’re so happy to find you are open. We heard about your legendary cottages and sauna and were wondering if we could book one for the night?”

  Although he hadn’t planned on opening until the next day, Oaken understood the date didn’t have to be set in stone. The cabins were ready, and having visitors this evening would allow him to softly work out any remaining knots before the big opening. “We do, ja.”

  “Ethan, look.” The other fellow pointed to the awkwardly revealing yet tastefully traditional towel around Oaken’s midsection. “We are always saying that proprietors should represent the feel of an establishment. Isn’t the towel a nice touch?”

  “And the shelves of unique souvenirs and beauty products, Joseph. They are simply herlig, yes?”

  Oaken beamed as the Southern Islanders complimented the meticulous details of his latest achievement. “May I ask how you heard about us?”

  Ethan, the smaller of the two fellows, replied using his hands to illustrate his explanation. “A delivery person we were stopping for directions told us Oaken’s Family-Friendly Cozy Cottages and Sauna are not to be missed. So here we are.”

  Joseph pointed to the basket of towels next to the reception desk. “Look, Ethan. They have adorable little mascots.”

  “Like Wes-Lee’s,” Ethan replied with a broad smile. “Only these fellows are much cuter than the Weselton wolverine. Yes?”

  Oaken peered into the basket that would have been restocked if he’d known about the early guests. Nestled among the colorful, cozy towels were Hugo and Lars, sound asleep. One of the visitors stroked Hugo’s ears, causing him to purr. Oaken decided on the spot to keep them. As mascots went, two nut-crazy squirrels would be easier to wrangle than a gaggle of mischievous snowgies or even one voracious reindeer.

  “I like this place,” Ethan declared. “We are going to tell all our friends of the Southern Isles about Oaken’s when we get home.”

  “And that real-live reindeer curled up on the porch—it’s just so cozy.” Joseph grinned like a kiddie in a sweet shoppe. “I may never want to leave.”

  “We must buy as many of these cute souvenirs as our travel trunks will fit, yes?”

  “Agreed.”

  Switching into host mode, Oaken grabbed two sets of slippers and towels and set them on the counter next to the single jar of carrot balm. “Might I invite you to start your stay with a warm cookie, a stimulating face mask, and a family sweat while I take your things to our best cottage, ja?”

  “Ja!”

  As the first guests changed and then headed into the steaming sauna, Oaken couldn’t help feeling his own glow of optimism, like a carrot-balm mask for the soul. While his day hadn’t gone exactly as planned, it had been successful. He’d gained memorable mascots, expanded his product line, and secured a trivia host for his first annual winterfest. He’d also reaped the benefits of word-of-mouth advertising and satisfied his repeat customers. It reminded him of something that his granduncle Hugo was fond of quoting from his favorite storyteller: All’s good that ends good, ja?

  No matter if the day turned out as planned or not, regardless of whether new ventures succeeded or failed, at the end of the day he would return home to a place of comfort and warmth, where his family would be waiting to embrace him with ample hugs. If he happened to share even a fraction of that feeling with the guests at Oaken’s Family-Friendly Cozy Cottages and Sauna—what could be more hygge than that?

  “Nooooooooo!” Elsa screamed in horror as frost exploded from her bare fingertips and spread out over the throne room, freezing anything in its path and turning it into ice.

  Despite her protests, the floors, the vaulted ceiling, and the walls studded with columns and thick draperies all succumbed to the terrible bite of this swirling wintry blast. She’d only meant to play around and make ice sculptures, but it had gotten out of control. She tried to stop it, but—to her horror—the magic kept flowing and grew stronger.

  And wilder, too.

  “Elsa… please…” Anna whimpered, her white hair swirling around her angelic face. She ran toward Elsa in desperation but slipped on the black ice, collapsing in a heap.

  “I’m sorry…” Elsa gasped from her throne, totally in the grip of the spell spewing from her hands and freezing everything. “I can’t make it stop.… I’m trying.…”

  “Stop, it’s not fun anymore,” Anna said in a terrified voice. Soon she’d get hit by the wintry blast enveloping the throne room. “Can’t you see? This is getting out of hand.”

  Elsa struggled harder to stem the magic flowing from her fingertips—but it backfired. Sharp icicles sprang out like daggers at Anna in a circle around her. One shard sliced her sister’s arm, while others shot out like knives aiming at her throat.

  Still Elsa couldn’t stem the magic. She gritted her teeth and fought back, but then—

  Something worse happened.

  The frost spewing from her fingertips took on solid form, sprouting arms, spindly legs, and a mouth studded with razor-sharp icicle teeth. The monstrous creation landed with a thud on the ice. The snow monster whipped around and fixed on the only thing in its line of sight—

  Anna.

  The creature cracked open its jagged mouth and roared, emitting a wintry gale from its throat that froze anything in its immediate path. Then it leapt at her sister.

  “Anna, watch out,” Elsa cried. “I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to do it—”

  That was when Elsa woke up with a scream on her lips, but it came out as only a sharp whisper. She thrashed around in her bedroom in a panic. Her heart thumped with icy terror, while a deep chill shot through her body. She blinked in the dim light of her room.

  She yanked her hands up, but no frost sprang from her bare fingertips. She was lying in bed—not in the throne room—ensconced under a tumble of silken covers.

  And she wasn’t alone.

  Anna slept soundly next to her, a thin ribbon of drool falling adorably from her rosy lips, while her messy strawberry hair exploded like a wild crown around her head. She sighed and rolled over. Elsa relaxed at the sight of her sister safe and sound—and unfrozen—though her heart still beat faster than normal from the terror of the dream. With a deep sigh, she sat up in bed.

  It was only a terrible nightmare.

  None of that was real.

  The shards and remnants were already fading, but not enough. She knew the reason for the dream. Clearly, it sprang from her darker memories, like the worst nightmares usually did. I can control it now, she reassured herself. It won’t get out of hand like that… ever again.

  This was also her solemn promise to Anna. She remembered how she’d accidentally frozen her sister’s heart. The memory still haunted her. Time did not fade the horror or make it less painful.

  Everything that had happened since she returned from her ice palace, unthawed the kingdom, and ascended the throne swirled through her head again like snowflakes. For a moment she tensed up with worry and fear, but she reminded herself that it was all buried in the past. And just like her nightmare, it couldn’t hurt her now.

  But even so, she had to be careful and remain vigilant. Elsa glanced down at her beloved Anna sleeping soundly on the pillow—a daily reminder of why Elsa had to stay in control.

  “You’re safe now,” she whispered to a still slumbering Anna. Her sister flipped over with a moan, wiped the drool, then murmured some nonsense. “Ice unicorn… you can’t fly off like that… don’t be silly… come back now… it’s time for supper.…”

  Elsa smiled. At least that sounded like a nice dream, even if the unicorn was trying to fly away. When they were kids, Anna would always beg Elsa to play with her and build a snowman. She loved that her sister had this sweet, whimsical side. She hoped Anna never lost it.

  Elsa patted her sister, pulling the covers up to let her keep sleeping. Then she rose from bed and padded over to the tall windows, thrusting the thick curtains open and letting bright sunlight spill into the large bedchamber. Dust—not snowflakes—swirled through the errant sunbeams, performing an intricate dance. She marveled at the beauty of Arendelle. It promised to be another warm day. And it was most welcome by everyone after the harsh, unnatural winter.

  Across the room, Elsa caught sight of her own appearance in the dressing mirror. Her icy blue eyes and blond tresses gave her a captivating appearance, despite the untamed state of her hair. She raised her hands and fluttered them. No unbidden magic burst from her bare fingertips. She didn’t even need to wear her protective gloves anymore. And she didn’t miss them.

  Next to the mirror and dressing stand stood a mannequin fitted with a pale blue gown with a shimmering, translucent cape.

  Everything appeared in order; nothing seemed amiss. Her nightmare was powerless in the warm sunlight, which melted the last shadowy tendrils away, taking the bad memories with it.

  Elsa relaxed and yawned, gazing through the window at her kingdom. Outside the castle walls the sun rose higher, warming everything that its radiant light touched. Winter was a distant memory, and Arendelle was thriving again. She could see down to the castle gates, open ever since her return, when she’d thawed the lands from the extreme winter she had accidentally unleashed, brought back summer, and reclaimed her throne, inherited from her parents. Even though she had grown up in the castle with this view, it never grew old—and it never ceased to amaze her.

  Beyond the gates the village teemed with life. Folks meandered down the cobblestone streets, chatting with one another as they sold and purchased wares and supplies, while beyond the busy town streets, the luscious green farmland spread out and blossomed with crops that would sustain them and keep them fed whenever winter eventually did return—a natural winter.