Principatus, Chapter IV


Zelda gathered the ends of her skirts and scurried down the hall. Her ladies had dawdled and fussed so long over every detail of her evening's wardrobe that she was running late to greet her father for the banquet. Chemises shuffling and ribbons twirling, Zelda could hardly maintain her balance, let alone a brisk pace. The princess rounded the corner toward the Great Hall and narrowly avoided bowling over a set of armor. "Ahh..." Zelda huffed, regaining her composure.

She spotted her father at the end of the entrance hall. A soft glow leaked into the dim passageway from the room beyond and illuminated the king's profile. Zelda drew up alongside him and breathed a heavy sigh of relief.

"Sweetheart," the king groaned quietly, "why must you always run late?"

"I am not quite late, father," the princess protested between deep breaths. "Besides, it was Veronica this time. She spent an hour on my hair, and have you seen this dress?" She stood straight and gestured toward the gold-laced bodice of her gown. "This takes time."

The old king shook his head and abandoned the subject, but Zelda could tell by the way his eyes shifted that there was something else bothering him.

"So Barnabus tells me you invited a young lad to stay for dinner," he finally exhaled.

"Whom I invite to dinner is none of Barnabus' concern." Her tone was stern. That old loon of a secretary would find it necessary to report her private affairs to the king.

"We had an agreement, Zelda," her father continued. "While the dignitaries are here—"

"We had an agreement that I would allow Zel-Taren to be my escort. Extending a dinner invitation to an old friend in no way violates that. Besides, I had hoped you might be more concerned with what happened to Mercy Middleton than with meddling in my affairs."

"Absalom is looking into Miss Middleton. I just—"

"Father," she placed her hand on his broad shoulder and smiled weakly, "he's just a friend. Please, try to let it go. "

"I only bring these matters up because I care..."

"I know." Zelda nodded. The tenor tones of a trombone filled the chamber, silencing the drone of chatter and laughter from the Great Hall.

"Oh, I almost forgot to tell you..." the king whispered. He clasped hands with Zelda and turned to face the entryway.

"Tell me what?"

"How beautiful you look tonight, darling." The old monarch leaned over and kissed her tenderly on the cheek.

"Please, rise!" A man announced from beyond the wall. "Presenting Her Royal Highness Princess Zelda and His Majesty King Auberon II."

The doors eased open into the sparkling hall. Zelda squinted as her eyes adjusted to the bright light. A quartet of minstrels strummed a lively tune to accompany the chorus of warm applause. Zelda and the king advanced down the center of the room toward the Great Table sitting high on a dais, overlooking the longer tables flanking it. Czar-Aran and Zel-Taren awaited them at the place of honor.

"The household has outdone itself this time," Zelda muttered through her teeth as she smiled and waved.

"Indeed it has," the king similarly responded.

A golden arm-chair was drawn up to the Great Table for the king, and a canopy of blue and gold silk hung down from the ceiling. Carved candlesticks lined the tables, casting a shimmering glow off the coverings and silver place settings. An ornate glass salt cellar highlighted the colorful spread, which included large basins of soup, loaves of bread, grapes, fish, pork, and many vases of wine.

Still holding Zelda's hand, the king took up his arm-chair, while the princess took the seat between her father and Zel-Taren. With a smile the monarch lowered his daughter's palm, raised the ruby-studded goblet at his place setting, and tapped it with his ring.

"Welcome, my friends!" His voice reverberated off the walls. "We gather on this most joyous evening to honor our guests, our friends, His Majesty Czar-Aran and His Royal Highness Zel-Taren of Ten'al-taria."

His introduction was met with another round of applause, though this one more subdued and forced.

"Such a warm greeting," Zel-Taren leaned over and whispered in Zelda's ear. She smiled weakly and nodded, though her concentration was already turned onto the long tables— two each lining the right and left walls.

"I would also like to welcome our guests from across the four provinces who have come to celebrate with us this proud converging of lands: Lord Beckett the Baron of Kenton and Lord Spencer the Baron of Remington. On behalf of the Duke and Duchess of Faron, I present Vincent and Sir Dryden de Vaux; for the Gerudo, the Mir Fasiris; for the Zora, Master Riverkeepers Kaveri and Fisk; and Gor-Feor for the Gorons."

Each representative rose and bowed as the king called out his or her name. Zelda joined the applause, though her eyes continued to comb the rows of proudly-dressed and powdered nobles for one particular face.

"With introductions aside," the king continued, "I wish to call upon young Master Murdoc for the honor of the first glass."

Rory Murdac, a lanky teen, rose from his seat at the left side of the hall and strode toward the Great Table. As the royal cupbearer, it was his duty to take the ceremonial first drink to assure no one had tampered with the wine. Chest puffed out, he bowed low before the king and accepted the monarch's goblet. He dipped the glass in the nearest vase, raised it high above his head, and tilted it back for a long, full gulp. The hall applauded as he passed the goblet back to the king.

"Thank you, young Master Murdac." The king accepted the glass, placed it back onto the table, opened his arms wide and proclaimed, "With that, my guests, let the feast begin!"

Meguil Murdac, the Master of the Household and Rory's father, rose and began to command servants around the main floor. The minstrels filled the hall with the vibrant melody of lutes, pipes, organettos, and flutes. Zelda continued to scan the audience for her guest of honor...

Then she spotted him— at the far end of a table nearest her. She hardly recognized him without his hat, though his blue eyes pierced through the hustle and bustle of the servers clamoring about, and sent a tingling shiver down her spine the moment they connected. Her heart began to pound wildly against her chest as she noticed a wide grin break out on his face. He nodded as though to acknowledge whatever divine presence connected them, and for a brief moment the rest of the hall disappeared, pulling the two of them closer together...

But then the young Hylian blinked. His concentration shattered. Something distracted him, or rather, someone...


It had been a long, emotional, and frustrating day, but Link had finally come to the last hurdle. By the time he arrived in the Great Hall with Impa, most of the place settings were occupied, and a small cluster of musicians were polishing and testing their instruments. He sheepishly tugged at the ends of the leather vest he had been instructed to wear.

"Now, remember subtlety." Impa turned to him. "If you don't give the nobles a reason to address you, they probably won't. You're an outsider to them. Just focus on the princess."

"I know," Link sighed.

"I must leave you here, but look for me as soon as the banquet is through."

"Wait, you're not sitting with me?"

"I have a designated position I must occupy near the princess, and unfortunately, the seats around me are reserved for high ranking members of the court and household."

"Yeah, yeah, everything comes down to rank here. I get it."

"You will be fine, young hero." A rare smile cracked through Impa's rough exterior. "Just look at it as another challenge." She turned to take up her seat, leaving the young Hylian to fend for himself.

"Triforce of Courage..." he muttered beneath his breath. "Goddesses, please lend me the strength I need to fit into a place I don't belong."

A squat man in a feathered cap stood before the large, arched doors and sounded a tenor trombone. Lords, ladies, servants, and entertainers scrambled into their places and turned toward the entryway near Link's end of the hall. He took notice and copied their motions.

"Please rise," the short man called out. "Presenting Her Royal Highness Princess Zelda and His Majesty King Auberon II!" Music filled the hall and the doors eased open. What Link saw next made the young Hylian's jaw drop. From the moment he first laid eyes on her, all those years ago, he knew she was beautiful. During their adventures he learned that she was also powerful, courageous, and wise. But never had he seen her so... royal.

Like a goddess herself, her golden hair and gown illuminated the room. She glided arm-in-arm with the king, smiling and waving. Her blue eyes sparkled and her cheeks glowed. Noblemen and women applauded as she passed; some even bowed their heads out of respect. Link just stood, knees locked, frozen to his spot.

The princess and the king made their way toward a table at the end of the hall, set high above the rest. Czar-Aran and Zel-Taren waited for them, and for the first time Link got a good look at their faces— both bony and pale. Link's focus zeroed in on the princes' gray eyes—they were locked onto the princess with pride.

Zelda and the king finally took up their seats, and the monarch began the proceedings by introducing a long list of visitors. Link stared absentmindedly at Zelda and Zel-Taren. A familiar sense of urgency made his fingers twitch and the hair on the back of his neck prickle. The walls of the hall felt like they were pressing down on him.

After the introductions, the king summoned a youth who looked no older than Link. The boy took a sip of wine, to which everyone applauded, and the monarch finally called for the feast to begin. A dozen men in feathered caps and pouffy pants circulated the room, filling bowls with a soup and glasses with wine. Link's focus returned to the big table at the front of the room, and most importantly, back to the princess.

He watched as her eyes wandered across the hall, floating over every face, and tracing the movements of the servers until her gaze paused on Link. Their eyes locked. Link smiled. Through their connection alone, it felt like she was speaking to him in secret. The world continued circulating around them, but only the thoughts and memories that connected them mattered...

"A wonderful table, is it not?" A high, feminine voice cut through the noise of the hall. He blinked and turned to face the source of the disturbance.

"Y-Yeah, I guess." His eyes rested on the face of a young woman with brown hair and green eyes. "I mean, I don't have much to compare it to?"

"Your first time at court, I presume?"

"You couldn't tell?" He shrugged.

"Oh my, I've forgotten my manners." She giggled and held out a white gloved hand. "Veronica de Caulmont, daughter of Absalom de Caulmont, Groom of the Stool."

"I'm Link." He shook her outstretched glove. "It's nice to meet you Miss de Caulmont."

"Silly, you're supposed to kiss the back of a lady's glove."

"Uhh, I..." Link stuttered. Five minutes into the meal and he had already messed up. His eyes shifted to the bowl of soup in front of him and again over to the big table where Zelda was deep in conversation with the prince.

"You're cute, Link, very... innocent." Veronica giggled again. "Where are you from?"

"Faron Provence." Link fed her the same half-truth he told Bertie the night before, hoping to fend off more questions.

"Oh really? I've always wanted to visit the southern country. Do you by any chance know Vincent and Dryden De Vaux? The sons of the Duke and Duchess of Faron?"

"No, I live in, near the forest... I live close to the forest." Link shook his head. She made him feel very uncomfortable.

"Interesting. So are you a rancher then? Does your family own a farm?"

"No, I... travel a lot."

"I've always dreamed of traveling across Hyrule— Death Mountain, Zora's Domain... My father takes me on holiday to Lake Hylia from time to time, but I know there's so much more to see." Words tumbled from Veronica's mouth unfiltered. Link wondered if she even had time to breathe between sentences. "Well," she continued to press, "what's your family name then? Perhaps I've heard of it?"

"Ahh..." Link paused. He couldn't tell her that he had no family name. That would only lead to further questioning. Link racked his brain quickly to come up with a convincing lie. "Umm, Mido." It was the first name that popped into his mind. "Link Mido."

"Link Mido," she repeated. "That's a... peculiar name."

"Sure, I guess." The young Hylian held his breath, hoping she would drop the subject.

"So, how long have you been a guest of the castle, Link?"

"Since this morning." He exhaled and leaned back in his seat.

"Did you hear about what happened in the library, then?"

The young Hylian squinted and shook his head. "No..."

"Well, my cousin's page told me that Rory Murdac told him that Mercy Middleton was found unconscious on the library floor, and that her sister Amery was the one that discovered her. I would confirm it with the twins if I could, but Mercy is still being monitored by Doctor Goodleve and Amery hasn't left her sister's side since. But I also hear that Mercy lost over three days of her memory."

"Wait, a girl was found unconscious in the library?" Link was stunned. He couldn't believe that he hadn't heard of this before, and that the castle would keep such serious information under lock and key.

"I know," Veronica chuckled. "What could anyone possibly want from there that's worth causing such a fuss over?"

"Information..." Link knew all too well the consequences of knowledge falling into the wrong hands.

"But the books are there for everyone. It seems like a silly thing to cause harm for."

"Obviously whoever attacked the girl didn't want anyone to know what they were looking for." Link's eyes shifted back and forth in thought, "And this girl, Mercy, knew too much."

"I wonder who could have done such a thing? It's too bad Mercy lost her memory."

"Yeah, I wonder..." Link's voice trailed off. He sighed and took a long sip of wine. Over his shoulder he again looked toward the princess, whose attention was now fully devoted to the Ten'al-tarian prince. He had to think of some way to separate them. Not now, but soon. He had to figure out some way to whisk the princess away; after all, the nightmares could not come true if Zelda never left Link's side.


Why was it always Veronica?

Jealousy burned in the princess' heart as Link's attention turned away from the Great Table, and Zelda. Here she, a princess, sat at the Great Table between the King of Hyrule and a crown prince, but given the choice, she would trade places with her lady as fast as Farore's Wind could take her there.

"Is something the matter?"

The question broke Zelda's furious glare toward the end of the hall. "N-Nothing, Zel-Taren. I was just admiring the scenery."

"Please, Your Highness," his voice was low and smooth, "just call me Taren."

Zelda grinned slightly at the ambassador's charm. She hated herself for admitting this, but of all the suitors who had come to court her over the years, Taren was perhaps the most interesting. He was a master archer, swordsman, and poet. Earlier they had taken a tour of the grounds, where the prince showed particular interest in the horses. "The finest creatures he had ever seen," Taren called them. After Zelda had suggested that one of the best views of Death Mountain could be had by climbing a tree at the edge of the yard, he obliged her by racing to the top.

"Very well, Taren," the princess responded, "but then I insist you address me as Zelda."

"As you wish, Zelda." He bowed his head.

"Much better." She could not help but blush. He was quite handsome, with long, dark hair and icy blue eyes. He had a lean build, much taller than the average Hylian, with a sharp jaw-line and facial features.

A young server bowed as he filled Zelda and Taren's glasses and bowls. The royal pair raised their goblets and clinked them together.

"To our alliance," Taren toasted.

"To a bright future," Zelda added and tipped her glass back.

"Mmm, the wine is exquisite," Taren remarked as he set his goblet down.

"We pride ourselves on our vineyards, especially in the southern country. Crops grow wonderfully in the rich soil there."

"I regret the same cannot be said of Ten'al-taria," the young prince sighed. "Our terrain is quite rocky and mountainous, with very thin soil."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to insinuate..."

"You insinuated nothing," Taren cut her off. "You merely praised your country. You did not insult mine."

"I suppose." Zelda's gaze drifted back to the end of the hall, where Link was still in conversation with Veronica. He just had to show up on a day when she could not give him the attention he deserved. The situation was such a tease...

"So, Zelda," Taren cut into the silence, "care to introduce me to some of the ladies and gentlemen of the court?"

"I would be delighted." Zelda blinked, clearing out her wandering thoughts. She rested her spoon on the edge of her bowl and leaned closer to the prince. "You will notice the hall is divided into two sides— one for the king, the other for the queen, or the crown princess, in our case. The closer the seat to the Great Table, the higher the position is considered. Is there anyone in particular I can tell you about?"

"Hmm, how about the man sitting closest to the king? The rather large man with the long stole?"

Zelda craned her neck to get a better look at the man Taren pointed toward. "Oh, that's Faisal Aloysius, the High Priest." She gestured toward the three white-haired gentlemen sitting around him. "The four men closest to my father are the members of the House of Polis, a group of high-ranking officials that sit on the council."

"How about the man beside them— the thin one with reddish-brown hair?"

"And the gaudy medallion around his neck?" Zelda added venomously, though she knew who Taren was referring to. "That's Absalom de Caulmont, the Groom of the Stool, and my father's closest friend at court."

"And you two do not see eye to eye," said Taren pointedly.

Zelda's eyes narrowed. "Why would you say that?"

"Your tone Milady. You did not attempt to mask your disapproval."

"Yes... well, Absalom has not always honored my... opinions," Zelda replied before adding forcibly, "but I suppose he only has the best interests of the realm at heart."

"I see... " Taren's eyes lingered on Absalom a moment longer, and then shifted toward the other half of the hall. "And over here, who is the woman with the red eyes? She's been staring at us the whole time."

"That's Impa." Zelda smiled. "She's my caretaker and dearest friend. She's the leader of her village, Kakariko, but she lives here in the castle to fulfill the Sheikah oath to the royal family."

"A Sheikah, you say?"

Taren's tone insinuated something, so Zelda pressed further. "You are familiar?"

"Oh yes, my people descended from a powerful Sheikah lord."

"Oh?" His answer caught Zelda by surprise.

"The old Sheikah legend of Knowledge and Truth, you've never heard it?"

"No..." Zelda shook her head, lips pursed. She was certain that she knew all the stories and legends of the Sheikah. After all, she had lived as one for seven years. "Care to enlighten me?"

"Well, perhaps it is not the most important legend to Hylians." Taren shifted in his seat and took another sip of wine before beginning. "A brother and a sister traveled through all the kingdoms of the world, documenting their histories and cultures. After many years, they returned to Hyrule and the sister, satisfied by their work, began to pass on her teachings to the next generation. Her kin became the Sheikah. The brother's thirst, however, had not been quenched. He yearned for something beyond knowledge itself."

"And what lies beyond knowledge?" Zelda's brow furrowed in curiosity.

"Truth," Taren responded shrewdly. "He continued to travel in search of knowledge that would lead him to the discovery of absolute truth, and in his quest he became very powerful. Like all powerful men, followers flocked to him, aiding him, worshiping him even. But neither the monarchy nor his sister looked kindly upon his quest. She betrayed her brother one night, and his followers were ultimately banished from Hyrule. They fled into the mountains beyond the western desert— the mountains of Ten'al-taria."

"But why was he banished?"

"He wasn't banished. He was executed," the prince replied curtly. "Only his followers came to Ten'al-taria."

"But why..." the princess whispered and shook her head. She couldn't believe she'd never heard this story before.

"I hate to be rude, Zelda," Taren cut her off, "but this is hardly the proper setting for a story of this nature. We are a proud people, Your Highness. One which like to think of themselves as more than the descendants of a banished tribe."

"I understand, Taren," Zelda spoke softly. "Consider the subject dropped."

Pastries, grapes, fish and pork filled their plates in waves. Conversation waned, and the full, jubilant songs of the minstrels reverberated through the hall in their stead. After every course had been served and the wine began to run low, the king once again tapped his ring against his goblet and addressed the court.

"Let us all praise the Goddesses for the bountiful riches they have blessed our land with, and applaud the household for preparing such a magnificent feast. Now, I would like to once more call upon Master Murdoc to begin the entertainment portion of our evening."

"Thank you, Your Majesty." The Master of the Household rose from his seat and bowed. He licked his fingers, smoothed out the tips of his pencil-thin mustache, and cleared his throat. "I hope you have enjoyed the music this evening provided by the Sons of Abram, hailing from the Village of Euell. At this time, our entertainers would like to open up the dance floor to the court."

Zelda twitched in her seat. She wanted so badly to be the first to dance. However, it was considered improper for a royal to be so impetuous, and equally more improper for a princess to dance alone. Her gaze wandered from Taren, hoping he might oblige, to the open floor, where a few of her ladies had already accepted the minstrels' invitation.

"Is public dancing at court a common practice in Hyrule?" Taren asked, a tone of disapproval crept into his voice.

"Public dancing for all occasions is common in Hyrule. Why, do you not dance in Ten'al-taria?"

"We import dancers to keep us entertained."

"Ohh..." Zelda's heart sank. The practice seemed so cold.

The fluttering sound of the lyre and the song of the flute infused the hall with festive energy. Knights, courtiers, and members of the household twirled in circles of color. Candlelight shimmered off the jewels of ladies' dresses and the buckles of men's trousers. Zelda's feet bounced impatiently under the table to the beat.

She looked again toward Link, sitting bashfully alone at his place setting— only he was not alone for long. Miss de Caulmont once again swooped down on him. She twisted and turned like a gypsy on the dance floor. Her bright green eyes locked onto each man, making them weak in the knees. Veronica grasped Link's hand and pulled him playfully toward the dance floor.

The young hero resisted at first, shaking his head, content to remain sitting alone. But to Zelda's horror, he did not fight long. Veronica continued to prod, even pout, and Link, rather than put up with the act, gave in to the seductive wench.

Jealousy again roared like a maelstrom inside Zelda. She felt hot, weak...

"Taren!" She commanded, more brazenly than she intended. "Let's dance."

"Zelda, it's not really my..."

"There's a first time for everything." She kicked off her wooden heels, wrenched Taren's wine goblet from his hand, and pulled the prince from his seat. Arm-in-arm they descended the dais onto the floor. The lords and ladies already dancing paused and bowed to greet the royal couple.


She just grabbed him and pulled him into the fray. He tried to talk her down, but not only was Veronica de Caulmont the most chatty, bubbly Hylian woman he had ever met, she downright did not look kindly upon the word 'no'.

It wasn't even that he hated dancing. He had danced before; not lately, but the Kokiri loved to dance, usually around bonfires. As a child, he often joined the party bouncing around the flames, catching fireflies twinkling against the black forest canopy, but this was not one of those dances. Here there were expectations— certain steps to follow, ways to bow, to turn, and to hold a woman. Veronica molded his arms into their proper places, one at her waist, the other clasped in her hand, and led him in a skipping twirl around the floor.

"I love this song." She hummed with her eyes closed, head back, listening to the music. "It's so... vivacious."

"Yeah." Link concentrated on his feet, making sure he didn't step on her. At least Veronica knew what she was doing and had no problem guiding him like a lost puppy.

Halfway through the song, Zelda and Zel-Taren stepped down from the big table, arms intertwined, to join the floor. Everyone around them stopped to bow, so Link and Veronica followed suit. A hollow feeling ate away at the young Hylian's stomach, and it had nothing to do with the impending sense of danger he felt when in the presence of the young prince...

"Have you ever met Princess Zelda?" Veronica asked as the dancing resumed.

"I have," he replied. Link's eyes followed the princess around the floor. Such a simple question with such a complicated answer...

"And what did you think of her?" Veronica prodded, brow raised.

"I often try not to..." the words escaped him.

"Oh," Miss de Caulmont sighed and, for once, fell silent. Again she let the music wash over her.

It wasn't that Veronica was an intolerable girl. She was very beautiful, Link had no problem admitting. He just wasn't used to her sense of tact, or lack thereof. The more they spun around the hall, the music floating in the space around them, the more comfortable he became. Link slowly began to trust his movements like he did in battle, letting his subconscious take full control.

The young Hylian's eyes continued to follow Zelda around the room, trying to draw her attention, but his thoughts kept roaming back to his conversation with Veronica. It had to have been one of the Ten'al-tarians that attacked the girl in the library. But which one? What did they know? And most importantly, what were they after?

Eventually the song came to an end, and everyone on the dance floor paused to applaud the musicians for their work. "Another dance, Link?" Veronica asked. She held onto his hands tightly, but Link politely bowed and stepped back. He spotted Impa out of the corner of his eye and wished to report to her.

"I'll save another dance, Veronica." He slowly backed away. "But that Sheikah woman over there is an old friend of mine, and I would like to excuse myself for a moment to speak with her."

"Oh, that's no problem at all." She smiled and released her grip. "Old friends always come first."

Link bowed again, but just as he turned to walk away, something, or someone rather, collided into his shoulder.

"Watch it!" a voice sounded behind Link as he stumbled forward.

"Oh, s-sorry." Link spun around and caught the gaze of a man, with a brown ponytail and green surcoat, for a split second, before he disappeared into the sea of couples. Link's eyes lingered on the spot a moment longer— he sensed something familiar about the man...

"You don't seem to be harmed in any way."

Impa snuck up behind Link and broke his concentration. "Dare I say you're enjoying yourself, young hero?"

"Well, the food was really good..." Link smiled weakly and ran his fingers through his hair.

"The conversation as well?" she prodded.

"I wouldn't go that far," Link chuckled. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Veronica had already wrangled herself a new, unsuspecting partner. "So Miss de Caulmont was telling me about a girl found unconscious in the library..."

"Early this afternoon." Impa nodded.

"And why am I only hearing about this now?"

"I am still a bit behind on the details myself," the Sheikah admitted. "There were no signs of struggle at the scene, and unfortunately, the girl has no recollection of an encounter."

"Impa, we don't need evidence to know who it was," Link scoffed. Her seeming lack of concern for the situation shocked him.

"But we need evidence," she redirected him, "to do anything about it."

Link huffed and turned to face the floor. As visiting royalty, Zel-Taren and Czar-Aran were practically untouchable, and the young Hylian could not expect to sway anyone's opinion of them on the basis of dreams alone. He once again singled out Zelda, gliding like she danced on air, from the fray.

"Why don't you ask her for the next dance?" Impa asked, turning to face Link.

"Who, Veronica? If she wants to dance, I think she'll find me."

"You know who I meant." Impa flashed him a half-smile. There wasn't much that slipped past her.

"I don't know, Impa," Link sighed as he ran his fingers through his hair. "I doubt she would be allowed to. Aren't there rules to follow?"

"You overestimate the judgment of Hylians after they've had enough to drink. Besides, and I raised the girl so I would know, she would be most honored for you to ask."

Link fell silent. Every muscle in his body lurched with the urge to march up to the Ten'al-tarian prince and shove him aside, but that would hardly sit well with the king's court. Instead, he stood beside Impa and listened to the music while he watched the prince like he was testing the movements of an unfamiliar enemy. Link studied his motions, his tendencies, in order to find his weakness so that when the song was over, he could strike...


The music flowed through her body like the blood in her veins, pumping life into her every breath. The princess' bare feet slid across the stone floor, making it easier to balance amongst the layers of chemises and skirts that tried to weigh her down.

It was a group dance. The women stood in a small circle facing their partners on the outer rim. Her spirit soared as she spun clockwise with the other ladies. The two lines converged and the partners reunited. She could have been dancing with Prince Alec of Selbee for all she cared, so long as he did not have lead feet. It just felt so good to move, to skip, to let her subconscious take control of her motions...

But her elation only lasted as long as the song, and with the end of the music, Taren came to a grinding halt. Zelda exhaled deeply. Had she been holding her breath the whole number? She turned to face the prince and curtsied low with her head bowed, as customary.

"What say we return to the table, Milady?" Taren offered his arm and nodded back toward their place settings. Zelda halfheartedly accepted his hand. She glanced over her shoulder once more toward the minstrels discussing the next number and around the crowd of lords and ladies, looking for where...

"Link!" She gasped, stopping dead in her tracks.

"Your Highness?" He smiled and bowed, but never lowered his piercing gaze.

"Excuse me, sir," Taren interjected, "but the lady and I were about to rejoin the table."

"My apologies, Your Highness." Link strode closer to the royal pair. "I don't mean to intrude, but I was hoping Her Highness might like to dance some more?"

"Oh, would I!" Zelda responded all too eagerly. "I mean, I would be delighted, good sir." She curtsied again and blushed.

"You know this fellow?" Taren squinted at Zelda.

"I do," she replied smoothly. "He's an old friend."

"The oldest," Link chuckled and offered the princess his arm.

"I shall not be long, Taren." She reached out and accepted Link's glove. "I pray you return to the table, if that is what you wish." It was quite a comical sight. Taren, a foreign prince, the guest of honor, and nearly a full head taller than the young Hylian, was stricken speechless by Link's gesture. Zelda felt the prince's glare beating down her neck as Link pulled her toward the center of the floor.

It was another group dance, one where the couples lined up facing each other. Zelda instructed Link on where to stand. "Just keep your eyes on me and mirror what I do."

"I think I can manage." His smile made her feel lightheaded. The music started up again, a slower, more soulful tune than the last. Her heart pounded to the steady beat of a drum. The dance began as every other couple took a step toward the center, spun clockwise around each other, and strode into the opposite line.

"I see you were having quite a lovely time chatting up Miss de Caulmont," Zelda remarked pointedly as she and Link stepped together.

"Well, you didn't seem too put off by His Highness..."

"Taren's not all bad." Zelda baited him.

"Oh, so you're on a first name basis now?"

"He's a royal and so am I." She could not tell whether he was actually jealous or just goading her. His eyes locked onto her as they spun around each other. Her breath caught in her throat as the muscles in her shoulders tensed.

"Apparently, there was a girl found unconscious in the library today," Link pressed as he reached for Zelda's hand.

"According to Miss de Caulmont, I presume."

"She may have a big mouth," Link mocked, "but she doesn't strike me as a liar."

Zelda stepped to her left around the man beside her, but her gaze stayed locked onto the young hero's furrowed brow. "I know that look, Link. You believe there's more to this..."

"Her memory was wiped," he replied curtly. "It sounds like magic was involved. "

"Taren was with me all day, if that's what you are insinuating."

"Not Taren..." He shook his head.

"The Czar," Zelda finished his thought.

Every time they stepped together, hands locked, eyes searching each others', a warm tingle coursed up her spine. The lines paused, and one by one, each couple came together. Link's right arm wrapped around her waist and drew her in, their chests inches apart.

"I have to go to the library," He gently confessed. "I have to take a look for myself."

"Later," Her fingers wrapped through his, locking in place like a piece to a puzzle. "I'll meet you." Pressed together, they skipped down the aisle created by the two lines and out to form a large circle of dancing couples.

"Watch the man beside us, Link," She whispered in his ear, "and follow what he does."

On cue his hands wrapped around her waist and lifted her effortlessly into the air. He always was quick to react. "Wonderful," she replied softly and closed her eyes, surrendering herself completely to his trust. She felt nervous but excited nonetheless. The world spun around her. Her feet did not touch the ground. Time stopped and the music faded. The only thing solid connecting Zelda with reality was the steady pounding of Link's heart against hers, the feeling of his chin resting on her head, and his fingers wrapped through hers...

"Zelda..." his voice called her name in the distance like a song. Say it again...her subconscious begged.

"Zelda, the music stopped."

She blinked and stood suddenly still in her tracks. The other lords and ladies had cleared the dance floor and formed a circle around them. How long had they been watching?

She turned from Link standing frozen to his spot, back to the audience surrounding them, waiting and watching. "Link," she nudged the young hero's side and muttered between her teeth, "bow." He flinched and did as he was told. She hurriedly turned to him and curtsied. The audience finally broke out into applause and she exhaled.

The princess smiled and waved. Link followed suit, then offered his arm to Zelda and led her from the floor. The minstrels began a new song, and those remaining on the floor resumed dancing as though nothing strange had happened. Zelda's eyes, however, wandered up to the Great Table where her father sunk deep into his armchair, head in his hands, and she couldn't help but feel guilty for letting herself get carried away...


AN: As always, thanks for the reviews, and thanks to Nendil for being a wonderful beta. I uploaded a few sketches and an overview of my "World Map" to my blog which you can access through my homepage. I'll publish some of my notes and research there when I think it will be of service to you.