I guess I'll do my apology right up in the top, because my brain has an eternal feud with my fingers when it comes to typos…I try and go back and fix my mistakes, but because of the wonders of the brain, even it sometimes misses my mistakes because it knows what it meant to say…so please excuse that, my biggest flaw =)

Also, I'm having more fun writing this than I originally though I would. Enjoy.

I took my seat at the table, my white dress complimenting my newly scrubbed pale skin nicely, as was expected of it. However, it posed a strange garment for eating, and I was so afraid of messing up another dress that I swallowed my appetite down with a gulp as the courses were laid out on the table.

Things were placed on my plate, and I stared at them carelessly. The meat was always cooked perfectly, but we had it often enough where I was tired of it. I'm not a real one for the vegetables either, so I spent most of the meal picking out the inside of my bread, my free hand in my lap, drawing invisible designs on the lap of my dress. The conversation, as usual, made little or no attempt to include me. Well, at least not directly. I would nod or smile when my name happened to catch my ear, and my father would give me one of his looks, his eyebrows raising higher than I thought possible most of the time. I began to wonder if I was nodding to horrible things, perhaps "Zelda loves to run naked through the gardens and speak to the spirits." It's okay though, I think I would do that just for a break of monotony every now and then. At this thought, I felt my breath catch as I remembered my deal with Anju. I would have new adventures as often as we went to the garden, and I could feel my leg start to twitch with excitement. I knew this would be a curse and a blessing. The waiting for those moments were going to make these moments in the castle all the more like a thorn in my side.

"How were the gardens, dear?" I drifted back to reality, glancing up at my mother. From her expression, I could tell that wasn't the first time she had asked.

"It was lovely," I said sincerely, hoping that if I acted like it was a perk, they might approve more time for me outside. "The flowers looked so beautiful, and enjoyed the soothing air. It helped to alert me and brighten my mind," I gushed as best as I knew how.

She gave me a smile, her eyes wide with surprise as she stared at me. "That's wonderful, dear. Love, do you think we could arrange for more time for Zelda in the gardens? The weather will be lovely this time of year and it seems to do her such good."

I willed my eyes to be lanterns and my cheeks to burn with the rosy intensity of an extremely healthy person. I peered at my father, pouting slightly. I either looked cute or constipated. I was obviously voting for the first. My father looked me over, stroking his chin. He looked at my mother, then back to me. "Well," he began, "She does have more color to her since she left this morning." His expression quickly changed. "But, I heard you came back dirty this morning. I won't have you rough housing. If it happens again, we're going to cut that time." He pointed his finger at me as he did when he meant business. "Understand, young lady?"

"Dirty?" my mother gasped, her hand rising to her dainty mouth. "Dear, how would you get dirty?" she said it like it was a forbidden word, lowering her voice slightly as she peered at me across the table.

"Oh, it's alright mother, it won't happen again," I said soothingly, leaning forward as I shook my head. "I tripped over a root near the pond and landed on some mud. I already informed the gardener and he promised he'd take care it before the day was over," I lied, bobbing my head.

She looked at me, her brows knitted as she looked over my face. After what seemed like an eternity, she nodded. "Alright."

I breathed a sigh of relief, not realizing I'd been holding my breath that long. "But, no more garden time today. You have you embroidery work later today, and then you have your History of Hyrule session. And don't forget about your prayers to the Goddess later."

I groaned inwardly as I watched my parents focus back on their food, muttering things back and forth. I hated doing needlework. My stitches were always crooked and my images just seem to add big, ugly marks to the designs my ladies-in-waiting were doing so smoothly. I didn't mind my history lessons, however. They were a more recent class added for me, but I had been waiting years to finally be of the right age to be allowed to study it. Throughout the rest of the week I had my singing lessons, my dance lesson, my ocarina lesson, my geography lessons, and so on. In the winter, those had been doubled for me because I hadn't been allowed to go out. This makes me even more excited for my garden time.

I pushed my food around on my plate until it was whisked away from under me. I tapped my foot on the floor as I waited to be picked up from the table by Anju, drawing tiny circles with my slipper. The older I got, the more I hated how I was never allowed to escort myself. I liked to think that if someone ever forgot me, I'd get up and march myself to my expected location, but I knew I'd just sit until I was finally collected. I had never been seriously punished, by I did fear if my father actually caught me breaking one of the rules he set for me. I know that much is expected of me, and I've seen his wrath on others. I'd seen enough punishments to know that I certainly didn't want one of my own.

I was collected soon enough, and in no time I found myself plopped in a chair. The fabric in my hand felt to heavy and awkward for my hands, and my needle always seems to have a mind of its own most of the time. I can sew when I focus. My problem is that I can't seem to make myself want to.

In the room with me are my ladies-in-waiting. My mother did an extensive sort of search for these three, and she had a time of it. She dedicated a good part of my early childhood selecting them for me. To clear the air, these girls are supposed to be my closest friends. They attend most of my activities with me and any event I find myself misfortunate enough to be dragged to, I get the satisfaction of knowing that they have to suffer through it just like I do. I suppose it's rude to say I don't really know their names. I know I have been told them all before and probably on several occasions, but I just give them names that suit them in my mind and I try to never actually signal one out. My last maid usually attended my embroidery sessions with me, but I guess Anju feels the way I do about them. Or she's being made to clean my chambers. I think it's more of a mix of both.

The girl across from me has mousy brown hair and eyes that seem too large for her face. She is extremely deft with the needle in her little hand, however, and she is quick to fix my stitches at the end of the day when she thinks I won't notice. Of them all, she is my favorite. You can probably guess what I call her. The girl to my left I call Screech. Her voice just grates on me, I don't understand how she is even able to talk in that octave without hurting herself. She makes up with her looks, though, that's for certain. She's tall and slender with perfect auburn hair and a figure that probably means she eats absolutely nothing. That said, she has got to have back trouble due to her top half. I guess even she know she won't get far on her oral skills. Everyone needs a back up plan, I always say. There's one other girl in the room that I refer to as Goldy. She just looks like a fish. A plump little goldfish. I can't say much else to her credit, and it just seemed cruel to call her fish face. Goldy gives her the credit of a somewhat pretty name.

I hear one of the girls say my name, and I pause the needle in my hand as if it's a knife poised over someone's heart. I look up, trying to look like I know what's going on. I let a hesitant smile creep over my features. I know all these girls think I'm just daffy in the head.

"You've been looping over that grass for sometime now," Mouse piped up, hesitantly. I watch as her gaze immediately drops to the floor. "I just-It's going to come out uneven. I was wondering if you needed some help."

"Oh." It slipped from lips as I looked down at where I had been sewing. I don't get to work on the main pieces of the tapestry anymore because, well, to tell the truth I think I do this a lot. People can over look lumpy grass more than they can a hero with a crooked eye and a lumpy hand. I gently placed the needle on the fabric. I knew she would fix it anyway, and I didn't mind. I knew she worked hard on her parts and I knew I'd be mad to if I had to deal with someone messing it up.

"Yes, if you'd be so kind," I said gently, watching as she made a fluid yet hesitant movement to arrive next to me. I moved my hands out of the way as she deftly pulled out the stitches I'd lumped together.

"You seem concerned, Princess," Screech observed as she added detail to one of the faces. "Something wrong?"

I watched as Mouse continued her expert repairing of my mistake. "Just a little tired," I commented absent mindedly.

"I heard you went to the gardens this morning," Goldy chimed in. "It's a shame we weren't alerted." No it wasn't. I know she hates going outside.

"I think," I said carefully, "it's because we all need a little time to ourselves now and then. I always spend the garden time with just myself and my maid."

Mouse nodded. "Of course we do. It's one the nice things here. We do get our morning activity to ourselves before spending the rest of the day with each other. What could be better than that?" I suppressed a giggle as I watched a twitch run through her hand as she said the words.

"Of course," Goldy continued. "I just love those times together." She pulled the thread tight.

I wouldn't say we don't all like each other. We tolerate each other, and that seems to work well enough. I'm not as social as is expected, and each of the girls is here for me. If I'm not talking to them, they are stuck with talking with each other and trying to make sure the lifeless puppet they follow doesn't just keel over. I understand the pain from that. A feel a rush of guilt as I look over their faces. I know I'm not the best for this sort of thing.

"I saw Link today. He looked well."

This time I twitched. What was up that? Everyone seemed to know of that guys presence before today expect for me. He was practically a celebrity, it seemed. Mouse seemed to notice my sudden rapt attention on Goldy, who had spoken.

"Did you speak to him?" Mouse prompted as she pulled out the last in my string of lumped stitches.

"Only for a moment," she said, looking proud of the fact. "I was going through the courtyard this morning on my daily stroll and I happened to see him walking by."

"He say where he was going?"

"Just that he had a message for Arlen. Something about the ranch needed some help with some horse or other. Everyone knows Arlen is the best with anything involving hurt animals."

I hadn't know that. I hadn't even known the stable mans name was Arlen. Where had I been these past years, in some sort of fog? I think I was just paying attention to the wrong things.

"Didn't Link use to help your father?" Mouse voiced, and I silently thanked her for voicing my unspoken question. I wanted to know how everyone seemed to know him.

Goldy nodded, glowing with pleasure at having this wealth of information. I couldn't even recall the last time we'd talk about anything for more than a few seconds. "Everyone knows he's quite the trustworthy delivery boy. Plus, he's not bad for looking either." She shot Screech a look, who's laugh was even annoying.

Mouse nodded as she carefully laid my needle back on the fabric before making her way back over to her own chair to continue work on the Hero. She always did the real focal point of any of our works.

I focused back on my grass, I mean really focused. I knew if I gave my mind even one chance to wonder, it'd be back on the boy who was my ticket to freedom.