From then on, however, Impa found it increasingly difficult to avoid her infatuated admirer. He would encounter her at breakfast down in the kitchens every morning; he would patrol the Castle alongside His Majesty each day; he would even attend the Royal Court dinners, every night at six o'clock without fail.

His presence there did not go unnoticed by the members of the Royal Court. Mealtimes felt a little more tense under the watch of armed guards. Sir Victor would often comment on their improper stance and their shoddy uniforms, continuously reminding them that such misconduct would not have passed 'back in my day'. Caedis would regularly seize the opportunity to lure him into elaborate accounts of the bygone days, for no other purpose other than to annoy the other diners.

Impa and Faito would frequently lock eyes at the table, like some kind of staring contest which Faito would always lose. The concept of having one's stalker in one's place of work does not perturb Impa as it does infuriate her. Unfortunately, she has no choice but to bite her tongue and bear it, in accordance to His Majesty's wishes.

Nevertheless, their unfathomable relationship has been clocked by other staff members. As Impa raids the cupboards for more pastries, Imogen dances about the pantry with a flurry of questions for her.

"So what's going on between you two?" she purrs. "Are you dating? In secret?"

"No, nothing is going on between Faito and I…" the Attendant grumbles.

"Was it a one-off thing? Did he call it off? Or did you?"

"Nothing happened, Imogen!" she scowls. "Now can you please leave me to get on with the responsibilities I am employed to do?"

"One more question!" Imogen vows. "Do you wish you were dating him?"

"Leave me alone, Imogen!" Impa says sternly. "Do you not have your own maid-jobs to be getting on with? If not, I'm sure I can fetch the housekeeper to find you some."

"My apologies, Impa, I did not mean to exasperate you. Although I do see plenty of potential in your relationship. Perhaps just a spark…"

Impa slams the cupboard door and confronts the young maid. Imogen clutches her apron with clammy hands as the Royal Attendant looms over her.

"Go to the cook and ask her to bake a new batch of pastries. Wait until they're ready and then lay them out on a tray and carry them up to Her Majesty's quarters. Once you've done that, you can report to the housekeeper for additional work. Is that understood?"

Imogen nods nervously. Impa exits the pantry and heads to the courtyard to cool off. And cool off she does: the lawn is a blanket of snow, icicles hang from the window ledges, and the water in the fountains has completely frozen over. The temperature is bitterly cold, and so she can guarantee peace. Or so she thinks.

No sooner has she sat outside on the steps when a small figure wrapped in a patchwork poncho and a cowboy hat approaches her.

"Sherifu!" Impa scalds him. "What have I told you! You can't be here!"

"I know, Impa, I know!" he cries, not his usual cocky self. "I only come to you because of an emergency!"

"An emergency?" Impa's anger quickly turns to anxiety. "What's happened?"

"Our tribe are starving!" the boy explains. "Our crops cannot grow in these harsh conditions and our livestock are suffering equally! The elders ensure that the young are fed, but they are withering away before our eyes!"

The adolescent sobs loudly into his patchwork poncho. A knot tightens in Impa's stomach. She should have paid more attention to her family, conducting regular check-ups on their welfare. Instead, she spent most of her time carrying supplies up to Her Majesty while avoiding soldiers in the corridors.

"Don't panic, Sherifu." she calms him. "Now, I have a few minutes to spare, I shall accompany you to the Market in Castle Town. There, we will purchase supplies for the tribe which should sustain them for the rest of the week. Then, we'll think of something."

Sherifu dries his tears on the corner of his poncho and joins his older sister as she smuggles him out of the Castle undetected to embark on a shopping-trip-come-rescue-mission with her own earnings.