Every monarch has at least two faces, Zelda thought. There was the face she wore in public, a flawless porcelain mask. This mask could not be allowed to slip under any circumstances, for weakness invites dissension. Underneath this outer mask she wore a more intimate mask, the mask of the girl she had once been. This mask was lighter and softer against her skin, and she had borne it for so long that she wasn't certain she even remembered her real face.

Zelda peeled off her long silk outer gloves, not caring that she was turning them inside out. She tossed them onto the floor, where they lay on the thin carpet like tired animals. She then pulled off her cotton inner gloves, balled them up, and threw them with their companions. It had been a long day, and she was done with being a princess. As she stretched her arms and yawned, she looked out over the tiled roofs and gables of the castle. Everything seemed quiet and peaceful from her high vantage point.

The siege on Hyrule Castle had ended three days ago, but Zelda still hadn't returned to the chambers she had been given when she first came to Hyrule. She always felt uncomfortable with the finery of the rooms – the tapestries woven from gold thread, the four-poster bed with its canopy embroidered in silver, the pair of eiderdown mattresses on a cherrywood frame, the porcelain washbasins that always shone too brightly in the morning light. Her gowns and robes of velvet and damask had their own appointed rooms, as did the various jeweled ornaments that had been offered to the royal family as tribute from the various tribes and provinces of Hyrule. This luxury made her nervous. It existed not to be enjoyed, but to be seen, and it was a reminder that a monarch could never escape the eyes of her people.

Zelda could no longer bear to sleep in her former quarters. She felt as if they belonged to another part of her life, the life she had lived before Hyrule was attacked. She had been a different person then. She never entertained any illusions about the decline of the kingdom, but she still had hope that Hyrule could eventually return to its former glory with careful leadership and management. The ruins scattered across Hyrule Field attested to the severity of the mistakes of her ancestors, but all of that was in the past. When Zant appeared before her throne in the Great Hall, sweeping her guards aside with a mere wave of his sleeve, everything had changed. Zelda learned on that day that the ghosts of the past never stay still – they're not even in the past.

Once the castle was again hers to command, Zelda considered reclaiming the more modest suite of rooms that she had used when she was younger, but she hesitated. During her imprisonment in the west tower, she had come to appreciate the small chamber, where she could enjoy something resembling privacy. As long as she did not move down the tower steps, none of the occupying forces would molest her, and the beasts of the Twilight Realm did not dare to come close. She was not without magic, even in this degraded age, and creatures of the darkness sensed this and feared her. The Bulblin soldiers were kinder to her than she had any right to expect, but they were concerned that punishment would befall them if something were to happen to her. And so she was left alone.

She found that she could ask for food or tea, or for an escort downstairs to change her clothing and to gather one or two more books from the library. It did not take her long to realize that there was a darker force standing behind Zant like a shadow, and that her welfare and comfort were guaranteed according to his orders. Since she had nothing else to do, Zelda committed herself to staying alive while waiting for an opportunity for resistance or escape to present itself. Until that day arrived, she occupied her time as best she could. She came to appreciate the small dimensions of her tower room and its utilitarian furnishings, and a perverse part of her enjoyed watching the Twilight rise and fall through the golden sky outside her window. If she had ever come close to discovering her true face, it had been in the freedom of her captivity.

As the siege wore on, Zelda began to lose her struggle against the Twilight, which stung her skin and burrowed into her mind like a swarm of angry ants. Eventually she could no longer leave her bed. She felt herself fading away, and it was after she had finally given up that Ganondorf came to her, and –

Zelda pushed these thoughts from her mind. It would not do to dwell on that now.

A bright pattern of cyanic light flashed onto the glass panes of the tower's windows, which reflected the mirror hanging on the wall next to the closed door. The sight lifted Zelda's heart. This was perhaps the best reason for her to remain in this small room – no one would eavesdrop on her conversations here.

She turned and walked toward the mirror, which was pulsing faintly with phosphorescent light. This was Midna's signal to get her attention. Zelda didn't want to speak with anyone this evening, but she would always make an exception for the woman who had shared her soul.

She touched the mirror with her fingertips, and then Midna's grinning face was staring back at her from just underneath her reflection.

"Hi girlie." Midna rested her chin in her hands. "How'd the big day go?"

"Mmmmmm..." Zelda returned Midna's smile and shook her head. "It went as you might imagine. It was awful."

"Did the crowd throw, er, what was it? Pumpkins?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Isn't that what people do in your kingdom when one of their rulers makes a stupid decision? Throw pulpy gourd vegetables to express their displeasure?"

Zelda laughed. "I think you've been spending too much time with Link. Speaking of which, how is he?"

Midna turned her head away from the mirror. "LINK," she called out, "GET OVER HERE."

There was a muffled shout followed by a crash in the distance.

Midna shrugged. "Link's keeping busy, I guess. And hey – speaking of busy, how's your new fiancé? You two getting along? Have you ascertained his viability as the progenitor of royal heirs? You know what they say, don't buy it before you try it."

"For Farore's sake, Midna. You know it's not like that."

"I don't see why not. If I didn't hate the very ground he walks on, I'd love to get a piece of that action. The man is thick. Do you think he's, you know, proportional? I mean – "

"Midna, please. I... I'm sorry. I'm really tired."

"I understand." Midna pressed the palm of her hand against the surface of the mirror. "I'll let you go. But know that I'll always be here for you, twin of my heart."

"Thank you. Let's talk tomorrow. There's so much I want to tell you." Zelda touched her palm to Midna's. There was a slight tingle in the pads of her fingers, and the connection was cut. The soft radiance filling the room disappeared, and there was only her own face staring back at her.

She sighed as she began to untwist the ribbons binding her sidelocks. Today had indeed been awful, and she had much to consider before she slept.