The man frowned, ever silent. With a little hesitance, a little carefulness in his movement, Agdar took off some of that melting ice and rubbed it gingerly in his hands, wondering if it would feel any different from normal slush.
Turns out it felt exactly the same. Just chilled, melting water, quickly turning into a puddle in the King’s palm. It didn’t seem harmful either; it did not hurt his skin, nor did it seem to curse him.
It was a little bit of relief in a moment of uncertainty.
Grabbing a handkerchief out of his pocket with his free hand, Agdar softly wiped at the little babe’s hands. “I think this must have come from her,” he said quietly. “There was nothing in her hands before.”
“But how?” the Queen murmured, touching the now dry skin of her baby’s palms. “Babies don’t just make snow, Agdar.”
Idun tried to thick of any hint towards Elsa’s strange ability. Other than the occasional chill during her pregnancy, she could think of nothing. Well, that and their princess’s oddly cool skin, but she’d put that down to being in Arendelle, a cool country of its own. But she was starting to think that both might add up to something more.
“Either way, it - it doesn’t seem to be hurting her, does it?” she said, uncertainty clear in her voice.