Principatus, Chapter X
The next few hours passed by in a whirlwind of tears and confusion. The castle guard escorted the nobles from the hall and began scouring the grounds for evidence, while Impa led Zelda to her chambers. The princess' ladies waited with a hot bath to wash away the black blood caked to her skin. After a change of clothes, Zelda ordered the help from the room and disclosed to Impa, the only woman in the castle she could trust, everything she had seen in the king's fading subconscious.
"We must be very careful, Your Grace." The Sheikah tapped her knuckles against her folded arms, deep in thought. "These are delicate times."
"I know," the princess nodded, "which is why I must speak with the Ten'al-tarians myself before we alert the castle guard."
"I agree," Impa said softly. The pair rose from their seats in front of the fire in Zelda's sitting room. The faint light flickered off Impa's steel armor.
"I want to speak with both the czar and the prince immediately," Zelda pressed. "Can I trust you to bring them to me?"
"As always, Your Grace." Impa bowed and turned to leave the room, but paused before reaching the door. Over her shoulder, the Sheikah's crimson eyes met the princess' own blue ones. Pride and a hint of sadness shone through. "It is your wisdom that Hyrule will need in these dark times." She smiled weakly. "I'm sure you will do our kingdom proud."
"Thank you, Impa," Zelda replied. She desperately needed to hear those words. Her eyes watered as she watched her caretaker depart.
Alone in her quarters, Zelda lifted a candlestick from the mantle and crossed the carpet toward her dressing room. Faint morning light filtered into the bath through the silk curtains. Silently, Zelda walked up to the mirror. Her unkempt hair fell past her shoulders, and dark circles formed under her eyelids. The princess who'd stood there only hours ago, prodded and pampered by maids, had vanished, and a young woman with a heavy burden took her place.
Odd...Zelda thought as she stared longer at her tired reflection. It was almost as if she'd seen that woman before— part warrior, part sorceress, a leader who worked in the shadows. Only now, she couldn't hide behind a name and face not her own. The Princess had to become a Queen.
Zelda set her candle down on the vanity and eased open the drawer containing her tiaras and circlets. She selected a ruby-studded one, pulled her hair back, and set it softly onto her forehead.
"There," she whispered to herself. "That's a start."
The time for mourning was past. Only one bloodline had ever sat upon the Hylian throne, and power immediately transferred to the next-in-line following the death of the sovereign. The fate of Hyrule once again rested in her hands.
A dreary gray light illuminated the corridors as Zelda swept from her chambers toward her father's quarters. She couldn't believe how quickly time had sifted away since the previous evening. Only knights and members of the household scurried through the halls. Zelda assumed Sir Bourdekin would have ordered a lockdown of the city immediately following the king's death.
Two guards stood watch outside her father's bedchamber. They tapped their lances on the stone floor and bowed accordingly as Zelda approached.
"I wish to see my father, please," she stated clearly, head held high.
The two guards exchanged forlorn glances, but obliged. "Of course, Your Majesty," the guard holding the keys nodded and unlocked the door, "h-he's in the bedchamber." His voice quavered as he spoke, though Zelda couldn't decipher whether it was out of fear or sadness.
"Thank you," she replied and crossed over the threshold. Cries and whispers greeted her immediately as she entered the drawing room. Barnabus Gerasim sat with his tiny feet propped up on an ottoman before the fire, howling into a handkerchief. Absalom de Caulmont and the three other Gentlemen of the Bedchamber chatted quietly amongst themselves in a dark corner away from the fire.
"Good morning, gentlemen," Zelda greeted them, but only Godric Benedict, the Master of the Hunt, mustered more than a weak, "Good morning, Your Majesty," in return. While the other three men fixed the young queen with looks of sorrow, pity, and doubt, Godric— a tall, broad-shouldered man with curly brown hair— rose from his seat and fell to one knee before Zelda.
"My sympathies cannot be conveyed, Your Majesty. I loved your father so..." He cradled Zelda's hand between his two frying-pan sized mitts, and kissed it gingerly. "Long live the Queen."
"My blessings, Master Benedict." She shook his hand and bade him to rise. "These are most uncertain times." She looked past the Master Huntsman toward the other gentlemen as she spoke. "But I promise you, justice will be served."
The men seemed to take comfort in her words— whether they believed them or not. One by one they rose from their seats, dropped to a knee, and kissed the back of Zelda's hand in a sign of loyalty.
"You have our support, Your Majesty," Absalom, the last of the men to approach the young Queen, pledged. His eyes shifted uneasily as he spoke.
"Thank you, Master de Caulmont," Zelda stated delicately. "In times such as these, Hyrule's strength lies in its ability to stand united. Now, I would like to see my father."
"He's through here, Milady." Absalom gestured toward the door in front of them. Zelda smiled weakly and bade the gentlemen goodbye. Even though the encounter went rather smoothly, she knew that her father's friends still viewed her as his flighty, dreaming daughter, too young to rule effectively.
The pungent smell of incense and burning candles overpowered Zelda as she entered the bedchamber that was already occupied by three men. Two priests hovered around the bed in the center of the room, muttering prayers and preparing the body for burial, while Sir Edmundus Ventripont, head of the Royal Guard, stood watch near the window.
"Your Majesty," they muttered, bowing as she entered. A cool breeze circulated through the room as Zelda walked up to the foot of the bed.
"Gentlemen." She raised her hand to acknowledge their pleasantries. "I'd like to have a moment alone with my father, please."
"Your Majesty," Sir Ventripont stated uneasily, "that would be most unwise from a security standpoint."
"I do not need protection," the young queen acknowledged. "I just need to be left alone for a few minutes."
"But Your Majesty..." the officer began, but Zelda cut him off. "You may stand outside if you'd like." She indicated toward the door.
Sir Ventripont opened his mouth to speak again, but recoiled and exchanged a nervous glance with the High Priest. "As you wish, Your Majesty," he grumbled and turned toward the door.
"Wait Sir Ventripont. I have one last request." Zelda called after the officer, recalling her earlier conversation with her attendant. "Alert me immediately if Mistress Impa seeks my company. That's an order of utmost importance."
"Yes, Your Highness." The officer exited the room, leaving Zelda in the spacious bedchamber with the two priests.
"I meant for everyone to leave," she said in an annoyed tone.
"But Your Highness," the High Priest implored, adjusting a little set of spectacles on the tip of his nose. "We're in the middle of a very sacred ritual..."
"Out!" She ordered, growing impatient. The chaplain almost dropped the thick, leather-bound book in his arms. Neither said another word to the young queen but muttered incoherently beneath their breaths as they followed Sir Ventripont from the bedchamber.
Finally the room was empty and silent, save for the sound of rain pattering against the stone walls outside. The king's bedroom was much like her own— luxuriant with a fireplace, balcony, and bed, only his was a large four-poster with maroon draperies. On the wall behind the bed hung a golden copy of the royal family crest, studded with glistening rubies and sapphires. Oil portraits and landscapes decorated the other walls, including one of Zelda's mother in her wedding gown.
The tired young queen leaned against the bedpost and gazed down at her father's body. He lay with his eyes closed and hands folded gracefully over his heart. He looked peaceful— much more so than he had in the last few weeks of his life. Looking back on the most recent days, Zelda thought her father had acted as if he somehow could sense the end was nigh.
Perhaps that's why he pushed me so hard to marry in recent months...She knew how he worried about the line of succession so.
Zelda swiped a cushion from a chair beneath the window, knelt beside the bed, and folded her hands in prayer. She thought back to the confrontation with her father in his office a few days earlier, and found herself speaking aloud. "Hardly two days ago, you confided in me a guilt that had been tearing you apart for sixteen years." Her eyes rested on the king's calm face, hoping somewhere her father could hear her. "You thought your sins made you unfit to rule, and that my wisdom would make me a better leader for our kingdom..."
Zelda unfolded her hands and rested them on top of the king's. Her heavy heart beat faster and faster. "Oh, father," she cried, "I couldn't tell you then why your words put me to shame, and now it is too late." Tears began to well in her eyes. Her throat knotted as she spoke. "You brushed off my transgressions as a childish error, but I made a mistake that jeopardized the future of our kingdom. I was only eleven years old."
She couldn't kneel anymore. Zelda stood and began to pace at the foot of the bed. "I had a dream about dark storm clouds spreading across the land," she painfully recalled, "but a ray of light shot out of the forest and parted them. I told you that the storm clouds symbolized the Gerudo king, Ganondorf, and I begged you to take his oath of sincerity with utmost caution..."
Zelda folded her hands behind her and turned her back on the bed. The rain fell more steadily out the window. She could hardly see the rooftops of the town below through the mist. She recalled how her relationship with her father had changed after she begged him to take her dreams seriously.
"Your gentlemen," her tone became more bitter, "made a mockery of my claims. Word spread around town about the silly princess and her prophetic dreams. Even you, my own father, brushed away my warnings as nonsense, but with each passing day the dreams grew stronger and more intense. I began to panic."
She walked over toward the chest of drawers on the far side of the room. A collection of framed pictographs sat on top of it. Zelda's hand wrapped around one of a giggling toddler with bright blonde pigtails, bouncing happily on her father's shoulders. A single tear fell from her eye and splattered on the glass surface. It was hard to believe that carefree child was her. With every day that passed since the Imprisoning War, Zelda found it harder to recall the innocence of youth.
"Only two people in the entire kingdom believed me," Zelda lamented as she set the pictograph down. "Mistress Impa, and a boy... a small boy my age, with a funny green hat and a fairy at his shoulder. I trusted that boy with everything, including many secrets of the royal family. I thought we could save Hyrule ourselves, two children, but all I did was set the stage for our kingdom's demise."
No one in Hyrule besides herself, Link, and the other Sages knew that the Sacred Realm was no more, and that the Triforce— the basis of their kingdom's religion— had split into three separate pieces. Zelda walked back toward the bed, fighting to suppress a fresh wave of tears. She did not want to cry anymore.
"All you, and most of Hyrule, for that matter, know of the story was that shortly after the raid, Ganondorf disappeared and the Gerudo fled back to the desert. It was said that the Gerudo overthrew their king, but that was a story Nabooru and I conceived to mask a terrible truth."
Zelda sighed and gaze upward into the maroon canopy hanging over the bed. Voicing her terrible mistakes aloud felt liberating. She knew her father couldn't hear her, she knew he couldn't respond, but to become the Queen, Zelda first had to accept her past failures and grow from them.
"I say all of this now," she pressed, "because Hyrule once more teeters on the precipice of destruction, and every decision I make henceforth could be our saving grace or undoing. I wanted so badly to tell you this story— to confide my greatest transgression to my father, but... I knew you wouldn't believe me." Zelda shook her head sadly.
"The second element from my dream," she added, "the light that parted the clouds, as I told you, symbolized the boy from the forest— the boy whom I doomed." A guilty smile crossed her face as she thought of him. She pictured both the little boy and the man she knew better than anyone else. "Now he's returned to us, which I fear is no coincidence. Hyrule will once more turn to his courage."
"I wish you could have known Link, Father." Zelda gave her father's cold hand a gentle squeeze. "I wish you could have known how much we owe him, how truly remarkable he is, and..." her cheeks flushed uncontrollably as she whispered, "how much he means to me. I would have liked to share that with you."
The royal family crest shimmered in the candlelight above the bed and served as a reminder of her situation— one she had slowly come to grips with over the course of the morning. "When I was eleven, I thought myself wise enough to take the fate of our kingdom into my own hands. I tempted destiny and almost destroyed everything." Zelda inhaled a deep breath of incense-laden air, closed her eyes, and stated, "but I am not that child anymore. I am ready for this. I am ready to become the Queen of Hyrule."
A knock on the door wretched Zelda back into the present moment. "Yes," she called as she rose from the floor.
"It's Mistress Impa, Your Majesty," Sir Ventripont's voice reverberated from the door. "Zel-Taren is with her."
"Let them come," she replied and took a deep breath. As the doorknob clicked open, Zelda bent over her father, brushed his white hair back, and placed a small kiss on his cold forehead. "I will avenge you, Father," she whispered. "I will not let our kingdom down."
"Your Grace..." Impa bowed as she entered, followed closely by Zel-Taren.
Hatred like she'd rarely felt before burned in Zelda's heart. She fought to suppress it as she stood tall and straightened out her skirts. "Zel-Taren." She feigned a smile. "So glad you could join me."
"A bit surprising, I must admit." Taren strode into the room with his arms clasped behind him. "Circumstances being what they are, Ten'al-taria was just preparing to depart these lands."
"So soon?" Zelda tutted. Her eyes narrowed on the prince.
"I figured it prudent." He fixed her with an icy-blue stare. The corners of his lips turned upward in a subtle smile.
"Youfigured?" Zelda folded her arms across her chest. "And what would your father say? Where is the czar?"
"Preoccupied," the Prince retorted. "But I assure you he is most aggrieved."
"I see." Zelda pursed her lips as hatred swelled in her eyes. "Impa," she called, "if you would please, continue your search for the czar."
"But Your Grace, is that...?"
"I'll be fine, thank you," Zelda said forcibly. Impa fixed the young queen with one last uncertain glance as she departed, leaving Zelda alone with the Ten'al-tarian prince.
"I believe you underestimate me, Taren," Zelda picked up after a moment's silence. "I understand women in Ten'al-taria are not held in high regard, therefore, I can hardly blame you for your..." she paused and thought carefully about her choice of words. "...Lack of foresight."
"Enlighten me, princess. What have I failed to see?" Taren continued to gaze blankly back at Zelda. He seemed to be waiting for her to make an accusation.
"Let me try this again." Zelda began to pace back and forth along the side of the bed. "It's not about what you haven't seen, but rather, what I have. You stand here in the bedchamber of my father, his body, only hours cold, lies on the bed between us, and you don't believe I know how this has come to pass."
"Please, Your Majesty," Taren licked his lips, goading her. "I would love to hear what you've unearthed."
"A dagger, was it not?" Zelda spat. Her gaze never wavered from Taren's pale face. "Drenched in a poison that reacted slowly enough to buy you and your father enough time to escape with Mercy Middleton and make it back to the Great Hall in time for the banquet, unsuspected."
"I wouldn't be so hasty as to blame Ten'al-taria for this most unfortunate..."
"Silence!" Zelda shouted and stamped her foot. "I will not have you soiling my father's deathbed with your lies. I have seen it! I saw you in the king's fading mind with the knife in your hand!"
Taren's lips curled into a wicked smile. "Bravo..." He slowly clapped his gloved hands together. "I must say, Zelda, I am most impressed. My father's curse should have been impenetrable. I knew you were powerful, but still..."
"So you admit it, then," Zelda ignored his dark flattery, wanting nothing more than to hear his admission aloud.
"Very well," the prince laughed and slowly moved around the bed until he was hardly two feet away from the young Queen. "I admit to slaying the king. He is dead because I poisoned a dagger and drove it into his sagging flesh."
"Why..." Zelda fixed Taren with a look of disbelief. She resisted the powerful urge to lunge forward and strangle the prince with her bare hands. "My father was an tired old man, hardly a threat to anyone. What could you possibly have hoped to accomplish in taking his life?"
"It was my duty, Your Majesty!" Taren spat. "I know you're familiar with the term." A twinge of sadness, or possibly fear, dampened the prince's sense of bravado. "My father is a hard man to please," he muttered with a tone of disdain.
"And here I thought you were the soft one." She shook her head. "Harmless, I called you..."
"It seems we both underestimated each other." Taren cast a sly glance in the young queen's direction.
Zelda's brow furrowed. "Nevertheless, you accomplished nothing but putting an old king out of his misery. I am my father's successor. He may be gone, but his legacy lives on!"
"Princess Zelda..."
"No!" The young queen snapped. "Princess Zelda is dead! You killed her too, last night when you slew her father the King! Hyrule is more powerful than the might of one ruler."
"True, King Auberon left behind a successor," Taren rebutted, "but he left behind a daughter— a young and beautiful daughter of sixteen who has yet to wed, and by failing to do so, left her kingdom vulnerable."
"And what do you mean by that?" Zelda stammered. She couldn't believe what she was hearing.
"Your kingdom teeters on the edge of annihilation." Anger crept into Taren's tone. "And Ten'al-taria has the power to bring Hyrule to its knees. Your people shall endure suffering and darkness unlike anything that—"
"I hardly believe your threats, Zel-taren."
"You should!" Taren fired, fists clenched. "And if you care for your people, Your Majesty, you will not make light of my proposal."
Zelda's heart leapt into her throat. "Proposal?"
"Marry me, Zelda." Taren's steel-blue eyes bore through the queen. "Unite Hyrule and Ten'al-taria through a peaceful and prosperous union, or else feel the wrath of a dark power like none other that has ever descended upon this holiest of lands."
"I will not," Zelda spat. Icy fear coursed through her veins.
"Because you love another?"
"NO!" Zelda could not mask her fear, hatred, and pride. "Because Hyrule is a peaceful land, a blessed land, that will never kneel before another!"
Taren fixed Zelda with a cold look. "Then view my offer as an ultimatum, not a proposal," he hissed. "In one week the Ten'al-tarian war machine will descend upon Hyrule. You can meet us in battle, if you so choose, but know this— Hyrule will be brought to its knees one way or another."
"And what if I don't let you leave?" Zelda struggled to sound confident. "What if I have you killed now? I'm sure our allies will understand."
"They may," Taren said coldly, "and they may not. See, you have no evidence— nothing save your word, at least. The words of a silly princess who has made up stories before. "
The blood drained from Zelda's face. Taren struck a painful chord. "A-and why might my word not be enough?" She deflected. Where had Taren's confidence come from? she wondered. This was not the prince she'd come to know in the past few days.
"I think you'll soon find that no country with even an inkling of the will to survive shall stand against Ten'al-taria now," Taren sneered. His eyes narrowed with rage. "Long has Ten'al-taria dwelt in the shadow of Hyrule, but no more. See, my father got what he came to this land for, and soon, when you accept me, princess— so will I." He grasped Zelda's hand and reeled her in so close she could feel his breath on her neck.
Zelda gasped and slapped Taren across the face with her free hand. "Never!" She screamed and pulled away. An orb of golden light formed in her hand and met Taren square in the chest. The prince stumbled backward and collided with an oil painting on the wall.
Righting himself, Taren laughed devilishly and licked a small cut that opened on his lip. "You're powerful, Zelda, very powerful. Combined with the might of Ten'al-taria, we would rule the world."
"Your Majesty!" Sir Ventripont burst through the door, followed closely by Impa. "Is everything alright? We heard a crash."
"Sir Ventripont." Zelda's heart raced. She reached for the bedpost to stabilize herself. "This man is responsible for the murder of King Auberon II. Arrest him."
Sir Ventripont hesitated for a moment, stunned by the queen's command. His eyes darted between the prince and Zelda before he unsheathed his sword.
"Do with me as you wish, Your Majesty," Taren laughed as he readjusted his cape and stared down the blade of the guard commander's sword. "It will not stop the chain of events that's already been set in motion."
A chill swept through Zelda. She struggled to remain unflinching. Taren continued to laugh as Sir Ventripont bound his hands behind his back.
"You have one week. No more," Taren leered, unblinking and cold. "I guess this concludes negotiations."
With that, Sir Ventripont led Zel-Taren from the room, leaving Zelda breathless and confused. Her eyes moved from the dead king, lying on the bed, to Impa, still standing in the doorway and utterly bewildered.
"In one week the Ten'al-tarian war machine will descend upon Hyrule."The prince's words echoed through Zelda's mind. She felt dizzy, sick. She leaned against the bedpost and massaged her forehead.
"Your Grace..." Impa rushed forward and reached for the young queen, but Zelda waved her down.
"No, Impa. I'm fine." She shook her head, stood tall, and mustered an assertive facade.
"But Your Grace..."
"Summon the High Council, immediately!" Zelda reached for her caretaker's hand. "There is no time to waste. Hyrule is threatened once more!"
Epona must have realized her master's sense of urgency, for no horse had ever crossed Hyrule Field as fast as she did on that journey. Dark clouds swirled overhead, releasing rain in torrential gusts, but Link paid it no attention. The whole way from the Lost Woods to the castle, he heard Zelda's voice in his head.
First she sounded sad. "It's all right, Father. It's me... It's your Zelda."
But her sorrow had turned to rage. "Hyrule is a peaceful land, a blessed land, that will never kneel before another!"
Link knew something terrible had happened, and he hadn't been there to stop it. He had left her alone.
A closed, heavily defended drawbridge greeted Link. Dozens of guards patrolled the walls, instead of the normal two or three. Wind whipped through the moat and sloshed water onto the bank. Link clamped down on Epona's reins as the mare tossed her head and backed away from the water's edge.
"Castle Town is on lockdown, kid," a guard at the edge of the moat called. "No one's permitted to enter or leave!"
Link pulled up alongside him and dismounted. "But I must see the princess!" he implored. "It's urgent!" Link half expected the man to laugh like the guard at the castle gate, but instead his eyes narrowed and he leaned in closer to examine the young Hylian.
"What's your name?" he asked.
Link's gaze shifted from the armored man to the others patrolling on top of the wall. The entire town being on lockdown was not a good sign. He grew more anxious by the second. "Link," he muttered. His fingers twitched with anticipation.
"You're Link?" The man sounded surprised, but not as surprised as Link himself, who couldn't imagine why a knight expected him. To Link's continued dismay, the knight turned and called to the men patrolling the castle wall. "Hey, Phineas! This kid is Link!" He gestured toward the bewildered young Hylian.
"That's Link?" A man on top of the wall leaned over and flipped back the visor on his helmet.
"Yeah!" The man beside Link waved his arm. "Lower the bridge!"
"Yes sir!" The guard on the wall saluted. The drawbridge slowly clanked open, revealing the dismally gray and silent streets of the town beyond.
"Thanks," Link muttered, but the knight raised his hand. "Don't thank me. My orders come directly from her Majesty." He stated proudly.
After they crossed the bridge, the knight signaled to the men on the wall to raise it behind them. Link fully began to realize the gravity of the situation— desolate streets and boarded up windows surrounded him. Not even a stray dog crossed the empty streets.
"Well, come on then," the knight called, already ten feet ahead of Link. The young Hylian nudged Epona in the side and trotted ahead.
"Umm, Sir..." Link started, but the knight cut him off.
"De Vaux," he stated proudly. "That's my name, Sir Dryden de Vaux. You can call me Sir Dryden though."
"Okay," Link huffed. He wasn't worried about pleasantries.
The sight of the main square made Link's heart leap into his throat. The streets were completely deserted, save for a few scattered guards standing tall and still around the plaza. A few more patrolled the side alleys in pairs. It eerily reminded Link of... No! The young Hylian clenched his fists tightly. Don't think like that!
"What's going on here?" Link finally managed to voice aloud. He couldn't stand being in the dark a moment longer.
"I've already told you that," Sir Dryden scoffed. "The city's on lockdown."
"But why?" Link pressed.
"Nayru's love, 'Why,' he asks?" The knight gawked and shook his head. He seemed to grow more wary of Link by the second. "Why... because of the king of course!"
"The king ordered this?" Link asked, bringing Sir Dryden to a grinding halt.
"Hold up." His eyes narrowed on Link. "You mean to say you don't even know about that?"
"Know what?" Link groaned, growing annoyed. He didn't appreciate being talked down to.
"The king was murdered last night, just before dinner." Sir Dryden's mouth hung open in disbelief. "That's why the High Council's been called together."
A thousand thoughts and questions swirled through Link's mind, making him dizzy. The king... murdered?First, he wanted to know how, and who could have done it. Then his thoughts abruptly shifted toward Zelda and what it all meant for her. Link didn't know much about the Princess' political life, or nobility in general, but her father's passing surely meant that Zelda had to become...
"So you're not a knight," Sir Dryden's comment snapped Link's train of thought. "And you're certainly not noble, so do you mind telling me why the queen personally asked for you?"
"She's..." Link began, thinking carefully about how much truth he should reveal. "We're just friends."
"Hmm..." Sir Dryden's brow furrowed. "And how did you come to know a queen?"
"We met as kids." Link treaded the line between half-truths and lies. "It was another lifetime ago."
Sir Dryden didn't seem to buy his answer, but dropped the subject for the time being. "Well, she's going to need friends in this dark hour," he added. "She's what, sixteen?"
"She's not so young," Link muttered beneath his breath. Zelda, a queen...he could hardly believe it.
Sir Dryden led him across the drawbridge to the doorstep of the castle. "You there, page!" He signaled for a kid stationed at the base of the steps to come forward. "This young man and I have urgent business inside the castle. Take his horse to the stables. Feed her, water her, and return to your post."
"Yes, my Lord." The page bowed and reached for Epona's reins, but the feisty young mare wanted nothing to do with him. She reared backward and snorted angrily.
"Woah, girl." Link signaled for Epona to back down. "Sorry," he tried to stifle a laugh when the kid shrieked and stumbled backward. "She just doesn't take well to strangers." He grabbed Epona's nose and stroked her forehead softly. "Behave yourself, girl," Link whispered in Epona's ear. "You'll be fine."
The mare nudged the young Hylian's ear as if to reluctantly say, "All right." Link patted the wild mare on the side and handed the reins to the page shaking in his boots, who comically tried to stay at least five feet in front of Epona as he led her away.
Link followed Dryden into the main castle corridor, up two winding sets of stairs, and into a hall he vaguely recognized from a few nights ago. A handful of smaller doors lined the left side of the hall, and light poured in through a few square windows to the right. Another guard stood outside of a door at the end of the corridor twice the size of the others. Link could only assume it led to Zelda's chambers.
"Sir de Vaux!" The guard clicked his heels together and saluted as Link and Sir Dryden approached.
The superior knight waved his hand to acknowledge the guard. "I'm delivering this kid to her Majesty. She asked for him personally."
"Very well," the guard replied, "but he must disarm first."
"What?" Link blinked and stepped back. "I'm not..."
"It's a matter of security, sir."
"Urgh..." Link groaned. He realized he wouldn't win the battle and reluctantly slipped off his sword, shield and bow and dropped them at the guard's feet.
"Thank you, sir," the guard mumbled and turned to open the door.
"Well then..." Sir Dryden tapped the young Hylian on the shoulder and removed his helmet.
Link immediately recognized the knight as the man he'd collided into at the banquet. Though there was something about Sir Dryden's cheeky smile and brown almond shaped eyes that made Link feel like he knew the young knight from somewhere else...
"I'm sure I'll see you around, Link. I'll be at the council meeting tomorrow." The knight extended his hand, which the young Hylian took graciously.
"Continue the good work, Geoffry." Sir Dryden saluted the guard, turned on his heels, and marched back down the corridor.
"Her Majesty is in the sitting room, I believe," said the guard, drawing Link's attention back.
The door eased open slowly, and the young Hylian crossed over the threshold into a room much brighter than the damp, dark corridors. Zelda was not alone in the open circular sitting room when he entered. A half-dozen other women reclined around her, chatting loudly. Impa stood in the corner beside an open window, gazing out into the stormy sky.
"Link," Zelda gasped. "You're here."
The eyes of all the women in the room turned on him. Suddenly he felt very nervous for appearing so dirty and soaked. "Yeah, I-I..." he stuttered.
"Ladies," Zelda said forcibly, "leave us please."
"But Your Majesty..." Disappointment spread throughout the room.
"Now." Zelda held up her hand.
The women argued no further. They straightened their skirts, collected their things, and smiled as they passed Link on the way out, making him feel even more uncomfortable.
"Did you go for a swim in the moat, Master Link?" Veronica de Caulmont chortled and flipped her wavy brunette locks over her shoulder. She departed last and closed the door so that only he, Impa, and Zelda remained in the sitting room.
Link exhaled wearily as his nerves dissipated. Zelda rose from her seat and fixed him with a sad smile. "You're soaked, Link."
"Yeah, it's raining outside." He rocked back and forth.
"I know." Zelda indicated toward the window.
"Right." Link dropped his gaze and wiped his wet bangs from his face. After a moment's silence, he stammered, "I left as soon as I... I left this morning. The Triforce... it alerted me somehow. I knew something happened." Link found himself walking toward her as he spoke. A deep sadness welled in her blue eyes that hadn't been there three days earlier. He resisted the urge to run to her, to hold her, and tell her everything would be all right whether he believed it or not.
"I'm grateful, Link." She smiled weakly. "I feel a lot safer knowing you're here."
"Don't mention it." Link shrugged. Another moment of silence followed in which the Queen of Hyrule and Hero of Time each reveled in what it felt like to stand in each other's presence. Link took a few steps closer to Zelda and gently rested his hand on her shoulder.
The queen closed her eyes, pressed her cheek to Link's leather gauntlet, and breathed deeply. She seemed so tired. Link longed to draw her closer, to whisper words of reassurance in her ear, and...
"Did you find what you were looking for?" Her soft words cut Link's illusions short.
"T-that doesn't matter anymore," Link stuttered and shook his head. "I just want to know what happened here."
"It was Zel-Taren." The Queen dropped her gaze. "He murdered the King."
That pompous prince? Link couldn't believe it. Zel-Taren seemed too puffed up and air-headed to be a murderer. But then Link remembered his dreams. "Your kingdom is already mine, Your Majesty. There's nothing left for me to get away with..."
"B-but how?" Link finally stammered. He felt Zelda's slender fingers wrap between his gloved ones. She led him toward a couch in front of the fireplace and explained everything that had happened the previous evening— the dagger, Mercy Middleton, and what she saw in the king's mind.
"I met with Zel-Taren earlier this morning to try and force more information from him, but he... " She sighed and looked away. "He threatened to declare war on Hyrule unless..."
"Unless what?" Link pressed, brow furrowed, searching Zelda's gaze.
"Unless I marry him." The tears that welled threateningly in her eyes finally fell. Link reached for Zelda's hand to comfort her, and to his pleasant surprise, she responded to his touch by sliding her arms around the young hero and resting her cheek on his shoulder. An aching feeling surged through Link, one he only felt in Zelda's presence, that he tried so desperately to ignore for many years...
"It's going to be all right," he whispered and stroked her hair.. "We'll get through this."
"But what about your dreams?" Her voice was barely audible. "It's all coming true, Link."
"We still have time," he muttered, struggling to sound confident.
"Not much time." Zelda shook her head and gently pulled away.
"What do you mean?" Link asked. He watched the young queen closely as she wiped the remaining tears from her eyes and sighed.
"Taren kept talking about some weapon Ten'al-taria has— a weapon that will make them the most powerful kingdom in the world. The war machine, he called it." Zelda drew another deep breath. "He gave Hyrule one week before Ten'al-taria attacks."
A dark scowl crossed Link's face. War— he knew what that word meant, perhaps more than anyone in the entire kingdom. Zelda searched his eyes for a response, but Link was still thinking. "What have you done so far?" He finally asked, his face expressionless.
"I had him arrested, for one," Zelda replied cynically, "but I don't know what good that will do seeing as his father's still at large. I've already told the Grand Master everything I know so we could start mobilizing some forces toward the Ten'al-tarian border. But besides that, I cannot formally declare war until the High Council convenes."
Link couldn't sit still any longer. He stretched his legs and began to pace the carpet. "And what about Mercy Middleton? Any news on her whereabouts?"
"Nothing," Zelda murmured. "I told her twin sister Amery everything I'd seen and charged one of my ladies to look after her. It was Czar-Aran that took her, I'm sure of it, but..."
"But what?" Link came to a halt before the queen and searched Zelda's sorrow-filled eyes.
"I just don't know what he could want with her," she sighed. "Mercy's such a sweet girl."
"These men are evil," Link spat. "There's nothing else to understand."
"I suppose..." Zelda's voice trailed off.
A moment of silence elapsed before Link clapped. "Well," his tone became more authoritative. "If it's a war the Ten'al-tarians want, then let them come." He pounded his fist into his hand. "I'll be waiting for them."
"Link..." Zelda fixed him with a worried stare. "Remember you're only one man, and you've never fought in a formal army."
"I know that," Link retorted, "but there's no one in the army with my... experience." He shrugged and moved toward the door. "I'll leave right now. I'll ride out and meet the army in Kenton."
"No Link, please." Zelda's plea brought Link to a halt. He turned and eyed her curiously. She returned his gaze with a half-smile. "I want you to stay for the High Council meeting tomorrow," she implored. "It would mean so much to me for you to be there."
Link's heart leapt into his throat. He stood silent and still as the queen crossed the room toward him. The firelight glowed warm on her cold cheek and reflected from her tired eyes. She looked as if she had the weight of the world on her shoulders— a look he'd seen in her eyes before.
"Of course I'll be there," he whispered and reached for her hand. For one silent moment, they stood with their fingers intertwined, gazing into each other's eyes. It felt right.
"And if it's not too much," Zelda said softly, "there's one more favor I would like to ask of you." She dropped her gaze and guiltily bit her bottom lip. "I know I shouldn't, but..."
"But nothing, Zelda." Link tilted her chin up to look into her eyes. "Let me hear it."
"Can you please stay here tonight?" she murmured. "I don't want to be alone."
Link chuckled softly. "As you wish, Your Majesty."
Zelda rested her arms on his chest and nestled her head under his chin. "We'll make it through this," she sighed. "I know we will."
As he closed his eyes, and concentrated on Zelda's slow, steady breathing against his chest, a wave of guilt swept through him. War consumed his thoughts. He felt guilty because the restless warrior— the killer— in him yearned for a fight. Part of him encouragedwar.
"Link..." Zelda looked up at him. "Are you all right? You seem concerned."
"I'm fine," he lied, forcing a smile, but thoughts of war continued to plague him. He fell asleep slouched in a squashy armchair at the queen's side, dreaming of a darker age, monsters falling with every swipe of his sword, and a man— a man with a glass eye twisting a glowing ruby between his long, pale fingers.
AN: Sorry for the filler chapter. I had a lot of lose ends I needed to tie up post super-plot-driven Chapter IX. Hopefully, it feels less filler-y to you than it did to me.
Anyway, I just want to say a quick thanks to everyone who has reviewed the story so far (Chapter X seems like a good number to thank people after). As I read some other stories on ff dot net, I realized that the quality of the feedback I've received is almost unbelievable. I put more time than I probably should into writing Principatus, so for my effort to be reflected in the amazingly thoughtful and helpful reviews is truly the best feedback I can receive. I know some authors use notes to personally highlight some of their reviewer's comments, but so many of you have written such great ones, I'd rather just say thanks to everyone.
Now my only hope is that I can continue to make you all proud.
Scarlett