For the first time, Zelda allows herself to be late. She counts the minutes between her absence and her entrance by the sands of an hourglass on her father's desk. She paces, fingers clenched in white gloves the reach her elbows, while she waits. Her guests, by now, are fully aware that she is not among them and Zelda imagines their indignation at her tardiness and their concern if they think she is ill. She is still only long enough for the final grain of sand to fall.
There is a long stretch of hallway between Harkinian's office and where her guests are waiting. She walks the length of bright red carpet under the unblinking gaze of her grandparents and ancestors. Her heart feels tight in her chest, like a rock set hard against her ribs. The guard standing at the door, his spear pointed up as if to pierce the sky, smiles at her and bows at the waist. She smiles back and her heart tightens. When the door opens she is greeted with bright golden light.
Her guests are bathed in the glow of the chandelier high above them, and to her they all seem like jewels, glittering in the sun. She prays they will not notice her.
But they do, of course, and the ballroom quiets as she begins a slow descent down the marble staircase, the click of her heels impossibly loud to her ears. Her father greets her at the bottom with a kiss on the apple of her cheek. She smiles again and this time there is a dimple. The crowd part when she takes his arm while they dance.
"You look lovely, my dear," Harkinian whispers.
"Thank you, Father."
For a moment she can forget that all eyes are on her and she follows her father's lead. They are graceful as they move, familiarity in every step they take in time with the gentle hum of music. Other dancers join them shortly and it is a quiet symphony. Too soon it is over, the music shifting and partners change tactics with practiced ease. Zelda and Harkinian among them. The partners bow to one another, but when Zelda straightens she does not see her father's kindly old face.
The young man bows too, his dark curls smoothed back and tied off at the nape of his neck. His tapered ears slant longer than Zelda's, the tip pierced through with a golden hoop. He is handsome, and no stranger, but Zelda swallows her disappointment and offers him a smile. "Hello, Casus," she says and curtsies politely.
"Hello." He takes her hand and kisses her knuckles before he guides her with the gentle flow of the other dancers.
"Has Father already made the announcement?"
"No. He was waiting for you to make your entrance."
Then, it would be soon. She glances at the dais as they dance. Her father and Casus are huddled together, watching them with a pleased smile. The stone in her chest settled deep against her ribs, a dull ache with every beat. As the music winds its way to the end, Harkinian stands and hushes the crowd. Zelda stills next to Casus at the ballroom's center, beneath the chandelier and the scrutiny of the Hylian nobles. She listens to her father, eyes drifting across the many faces – friends and strangers alike – and starts when she meets a cold honey gaze in the crowd.
He stands at her father's side, dressed in dark colors, fire red hair draping elegantly across his shoulder and braided down to his navel, his hands clasped behind him. He looks very much the sentinel, wide and tall and imposing.
Ganondorf. A man everyone knew, but no one knew well. He spoke little of himself and even less of his past. Even where he'd come from is a mystery. But he was brilliant, valuable. Integrated into Hyrule's military and into her father's council. They all fear him and rightly so.
Zelda looks away when she hears her name and the surge of applause that follows. The nobles are watching her as they clap, warmth and excitement at the prospects before them. Casus looks satisfied, takes her by the hand and they begin to dance again as the music swells around them. A waltz this time, intimate, for lovers. "Prince Casus," he says and he grins, "Sounds nice to the ear does it not?"
They spin and Zelda tries to shake Ganondorf from her mind's eye. "It is. Suitable."
"Only suitable, Princess?"
"It will take some getting used to."
Again they spin, shifting the line and exchanging partners. They smile at one another when he drops her hand and carries on the dance with his new partner. When Zelda rights herself, she places her hand in Ganondorf's impossibly large palm. "Princess," he says and bows in time with the other men.
Her heart, once heavy and lead in her chest, springs to life and color blooms in her cheeks. "My Lord," she replies when they draw close, his hand at her back. She feels small in his arms, like a girl who dances with her father while she stands on his feet. Thankfully, she does not stumble when they turn, but follows through as smooth as silk and with it, her confidence grows.
"I admit I was not expecting you, Ganondorf," she says and dares herself to look into his eyes. They are unreadable.
"I am sorry to disappoint."
She manages a laugh, light and airy. Genuine. "I would not say I am disappointed. Only. Surprised."
"Then I must keep you guessing."
"Why? Afraid for me to know your mind, My Lord?"
He smiles easily and draws in close to her as the music demands, "I fear nothing."
As the dance draws to a close, Ganondorf raises her hand to his lips and presses a brief and delicate kiss to her knuckles. Zelda must stand on her toes to accommodate his height."Congratulations on your engagement, Princess." He bows and leaves her where she stands.
Casus touches her back when he finds her and watches Ganondorf's retreat. "What was that about?"
"He congratulated me." She seems in awe and Casus glances at her with a soft, noncommittal grunt. Casus had spared Ganondorf not a single thought in the year he'd known the man and yet...
Casus curls his hand into a fist against her back and with a smile he guided her around. "Come. Your father waits for us." She follows without protest and as they cross the ballroom, he spares a glance for Ganondorf over his shoulder.