It had to have been. It was the sole reason they’d married, going by what Alice had just said, unless her parents had finally found their wits and stopped hurting each other. God, the entire thing really was so sordid. Sordid and sad. Had anyone else told her this story, she would have laughed because it sounded so beneath the dignified people she remembered her parents as—but it all did have a distinctly human ring to it. Her parents were human as well. While Elsa didn’t know how she should really feel or think about it, she did know that her heart ached for the anguish they’d been dealt. “Whatever enmity there was between them, that loss swept it away,” Alice continued. “It… united them. I do believe they were much better for it, as awful as the idea is. They tried again, of course, to have more children. There were more miscarriages.” Elsa wanted to put her head down into her hands. Her heart ached more. More miscarriages. More tragedy. “How many?”“I don’t know for sure. Enough to turn both of them into different people. But then they tried once more and that was you.” Alice breathed out. “They were beyond ecstatic, as you can imagine. I remember how cautiously hopeful they were once Marina was beyond four months. The doctors had said if she could carry the child to term by the fourth month, the likelihood of miscarriage lessened.” She exhaled, deep and weary. “I was born two months premature.” “Yes. And the royal physician advised your parents not to try anymore. Your mother’s health was quite weak at that point, to say nothing of the emotional pain she had endured already. Another could very well kill her.” This time, Elsa did put the heels of her hands to her eyes, tilting her head back as she leaned against the settee. “My god.” But she realized she wasn’t the reason why there weren’t any more children. It wasn’t because of her powers, not because her parents feared that another child would inherit the same curse. It wasn’t because of her. The relief was so great, she was light-headed with it. It wasn’t her fault, but the catharsis was also bittersweet. Her mother had been rendered barren for it. Elsa could not imagine the pain her parents had endured. “I wish they had told me,” Elsa finally said, her hands falling limply to her lap. “I understand why they hadn’t, but… I wish I had known.” “It’s not something a parent tells their child,” Alice said gently. “Marina took the news very hard. She needed to produce a male heir and she felt that she had failed in that regard.” Elsa flinched. It was a mirror of her current situation, almost.