Twenty-three

The day of the wedding has come, and with it the cold. Zelda doesn't have to bear her cape by herself; four servants carry the heavy thing instead. The courtyard isn't quite white anymore, the snow that fell during the night is spoiled by wheel tracks, footsteps and horse dung, but said courtyard is almost empty. The great noise that fills the air comes from behind the castle walls, as piercing and loud as the drums of war.

In its shimmery golden pompousness, the only carriage in the courtyard looks out of place in this world of white, the massive rubies in its wheels reflecting the sunlight. Five horses wait in front of the vehicle, pawing the ground, nervously snorting. Their blood red coats compete with the shine of the rubies, their harnesses look like molten gold.

An open palm is waiting for Zelda as she reaches the carriage. She places her hand on the thick black leather of the glove and is pulled inside. The servants hastily stuff the train and the cape inside, slam the door shut and run away through the snow.

A whip cracks, the horses scream, and the carriage begins to roll. "Morrígan and Jackdaw on the move! Form lance!" The commander of the Black Hands yells, and Zelda closes the curtains to shield herself and her brother from the prying eyes of the people, but once the procession has passed the gates, there's not much she can do to cancel out the noise.

Link peeks out of the window. "Boy, are they loud. What was the last major event in Castle Town?"

"My birthday. They sure weren't as excited as they are today."

"This is the queen's wedding… Not an annual occurrence." His smile showcases his perfect teeth and a few fine lines Zelda's never noticed before. In Hyrule Castle's library hangs a great painting of the late king in his twenties. For a moment, Link is the spitting image of his father. "I'm surprised that you're not wearing mother's dress."

Zelda cocks her head. "I remember you telling me to wear brighter colors."

"I readily admit to that," Link stresses with a laugh, "But it's white! I just assumed you'd go with traditional."

"Tell that to someone who hasn't gone against everything they were advised. But the white… I wanted to start with a clean slate."

"I think getting married is a slate clean enough already. Look at you. No matter what dress, mother wouldn't think you'd been broken. She would be proud."

"Do you think I broke?"

"No. But I know you do, and you are wrong. There's nothing condemnable about setting aside your preferences for the good of the realm. I assume it's condemnable that we're expected to do so, but what can one do?" He sighs, nodding to himself with a pensive look on his face before wagging his finger. "And no, that does not mean I married out of duty. Lucia is my sun. I never knew what I was missing before I met her. If you hadn't agreed to that exchange, my life would be different."

Yeah. Mine too. "Looking directly at the sun will damage your eyesight."

"Life on earth needs the sun to survive."

"Must you be so sentimental? Careful, brother, this conversation about my dress might just turn into an ideological debate. Are yetis real? Does Hylia have a vessel? Can meat be served with white wine?" It can't, but as long as whatever she drinks today contains alcohol, Zelda's fine with it.

Link laughs again, and his laughter is so contagious that Zelda can't help but join in. She doesn't recall the last time they made each other laugh, but it feels good. Like a green puzzle piece from the past that's wiggled its way into the current grey picture.

"I'm just happy to see you in good health. You look just like a young bride ought to look."

Zelda hasn't slept in fifty-three hours. "Thank you. You look quite dapper yourself."

"Much obliged, Your Grace." The carriage slows down, the noise gets louder and louder. Zelda is pushed back into the soft pillows of her seat. They're crossing the Old Bridge. "Six sharp turns," Link says, playing with his gloves. "How do you feel? I was prepared to keep you from throwing yourself into the river, but you look calm."

"I've learned to cope without you. Meditation is so underrated." Her bedchamber is being cleaned as they speak. Several large pieces of furniture can still be refurbished, but most of it has to be replaced. There can be no trace left of broken chairs, dented walls and wet sheets, the floor has to be clean of splinters, feathers, a single small linen pouch and millions of odd aromatic herbs. Tonight, the royal bedchamber has to look presentable. "Do you remember the battle of the Red Woods? Right before that, when we learned that we were outnumbered?"

Link's merry expression slowly dies away. "Vividly. But we won that battle."

"We did." But that was one battle, and look how the war turned out. On a different day, Zelda would laugh at the senselessness of her brother. "But right before that, I felt naked, and it's how I feel now. Like I need armor."

Her brother's only answer is a heavy exhale, one that is well visible in the cold air. He tightens his coat, crossing his arms, and for a while, there is nothing but the sounds of the screaming people to fill the silence as the red horses pull the carriage through the great white city. Then, as the stench of the fish market has disappeared and the smell of incense and flowers weighs down the air, Link leans forward to place his hand on his sister's. "You're going to be okay, I promise you. Someday."

A definite advantage of the ceremony being held in front of the temple is that there is no need for anyone to step into the navel in the temple's shadow, but no one is like to thank Zelda for that. Nevertheless, as she steps out of the carriage, thousands of eyes look at the queen, and their gazes settle on her like a cold wind. The people are everywhere. Perching on rooftops, leaning and almost falling out of windows, crowded on balconies, sitting on each others' shoulders and even standing on windowsills and climbing up houses' walls just to hang on to something and maybe, just maybe get a sneak peek of the queen's glistening crown, a noble's hat or even the Crimean's outlandish hair.

Careful not to step on her dress, Zelda lets Link help her out of the carriage and is met with the cheering voices of countless of Hylians. Many of which are certainly meant for the Soon-to-be-King and the prince who came home, if not most, but Zelda knows that some cheers and smiles are for her. Like the little boy's who sits on someone's shoulders and stretches his neck trying to catch a glimpse of her over the head of a knight in black armor, a banner with the sigil of the queen in his little hands.

Something tightens in her chest, sending her heartbeat into overdrive and heating up her skin even more. Zelda joins her gloved fingers, feels their burning heat under the fabric. Of course they're happy for her, at least one person is, and that is enough. The first smile of many smiles to come on this day, a genuine one, is meant for a wide-eyed little boy in a torn winter coat.

A man is waiting for her at the end of this path, but he might just as well be another boy, right beside his own mother and the three sages. Zelda looks ahead and puts one foot in front of the other, determined not to delay her duty any longer. Julius stands with his back to her as tradition dictates, but his mother's eyes, like those of many others, do not sway from Zelda's approaching form.

Anything's still possible. The queen hasn't reached the shadow of the temple, the old sage hasn't said the words yet. Lady Dayan of Kokiri stands next to her son, vigilant, patiently waiting to finally complete the transaction.

Under the watchful eyes and deafening cheers of the entire city, followed by her train-carrying brother, Zelda marches towards a new beginning.

The last wedding she's been to was less of a funeral than this one, but Zelda refuses to mourn at her own nuptials. She's already done that the night before. All eyes are on her, every few seconds someone comes to congratulate her and her new husband. Besides, the wine is too good to be sulking. Despite limiting herself to two chalices tonight, she can tell that Lord Ike has broken into the right wine cellar.

There is braised boar, orange glazed duck, stuffed potatoes, caramelized vegetables in truffle sauce, pigeons marinated in wine, everything the heart desires and more than the stomach can fit. For dessert, three different cakes are served, all paid for by the mother of the groom and big enough to feed half of Castle Town.

Zelda's new husband is seated to her left. The chair to her right changes its owner every few minutes as Link has excused himself very early on, preferring to socialize and engage some table-hopping. Right now he has joined his wife and the wretch at a round table under the dais.

The latest seat thief, a lesser lady from the bog lands, excuses herself. Five more nobles rush towards the dais, vultures in silk and lace. Before any of them can reach the seat, however, Alina Arinata gracefully sits down on the prince's place and crosses her legs. Her auburn hair shines like fire in the candlelight, and she places her blue hand on Zelda's shoulder. "I've been wanting to talk to you since the appetizers now, but it's hard to get a hold of you tonight."

"I've been wanting to go to the privy since the appetizers, but my guests are making it impossible to leave. If it's a private conversation you seek, you've chosen the wrong night."

The woman throws her head back and laughs. "You are delightful! No, it is merely Bogdan and mine's gift that brings me to you. Come the morning we leave and we didn't want you to hear it from someone else. It's not a gift for the both of you. It's just for you. The Lost Hills will adopt a prostitution tax."

The news almost makes Zelda choke on her (fifth swallow of the first chalice of) wine. Another region taking this big step?

"Please don't die on me tonight, Your Grace, I know you must be excited, but-"

"No, no no, uhm, no, I'm fine. Thank you." The wine burns in Zelda's throat and nose, but it's nothing. She knows what real choking feels like. Alina hesitantly taps her back, but Zelda pushes the Twili's hand away with a gentle touch. "So soon? I don't know what to say." Instead she takes another sip to wash away her surprise and the burning feeling. The wine in the chalice has gone down to two thirds, and the night isn't even half over.

"Yes. Bogdan was going to implement it someday, but then we had word that you didn't wish for any classic gifts. We wouldn't have anything unique to offer anyway, so we decided to take the plunge for you. The Lost Hills will follow in Hylia's footsteps and lead the way to a progressive Hyrule."

"That is marvelous. Thank you, I-" Zelda can't help but take Alina's hands in hers. They're dry and very cold. "This completely exceeds my expectations. If there's anything I can do for you, just ask. I know you'll make a fantastic lady, Alina."

"Anything?" The Twili's eyes widen and her smile grows, and Zelda feels her hands be squeezed so hard that she immediately regrets letting go of her wine. She doesn't like Alina's eyes. They're green and round and pretty, but they have something very greedy to them.

"I can't promise anything, of course, but ask and I'll listen."

"You are so generous, Your Grace, and so beautiful. Inside and out! Especially today."

"And you are too kind, Alina. Thank you." With a tug, Zelda withdraws her hands from the woman's – immediately feeling another pair, this time gloved, wrap itself around her fingers. Just momentarily though; as she turns to her left with a jump, Julius lets go. His smile is hesitant, but it reaches his eyes.

"Would you dance with me? The hourglass has been turned twice already and we've been sitting here all this time. The music is lively, but I can't dance with anyone before I've danced with you." Harps and drums and flutes have joined together to create a vivid melody. The dance floor is crowded with laughing guests who dance and jump to the music, some elegantly, some clearly intoxicated. Zelda watches the jolly people, fumbling with her rings. Dancing isn't her favorite activity; and yet, the mood in the ballroom seems infectious. "Pardon my language, but my legs long for a little exercise and my ass is sore."

His body language is obvious. He'll reach for her hand and pull her to her feet.

Zelda stands up. "Let's dance, then," she says, reciprocating her husband's delighted smile. "How fitting that we shall have our first dance to music from your home lands. Oh – your chalice is almost full. You won't dance on an empty stomach, will you?"

With a big laugh, Julius takes the chalice she's offering him and downs it at once. "I wouldn't dream of it."

"Splendid. Don't leave my husband thirsty," Zelda reminds the nearby servants as her eager spouse pulls her down the dais.

The Kokirian musicians grow silent as queen and king consort step on the polished white marble of the dance floor, as does every guest in the room. The merry dancers hurry away, leaving the pair alone in the middle. Zelda's expected this. All eyes are on them, like they've been throughout the day.

Shit. Shit. Everyone's expecting a first dance. A proper, rehearsed one. She feels her heart pick up its pace. Everyone's looking. Stupid new trends. She didn't want to dance much, but she assumed there would just be classical music for classic dances. Fuck! Why didn't anyone plan this? Zelda smiles and looks into the crowd, accidentally staring straight into the eyes of the mother of the groom. Lady Dayan's eyes are brown and empty, her face as severe as her hairdo. Zelda's hands break out in cold sweat. Shit, woman, enjoy yourself. You've struck the best deal in the history of Kokiri. And paid for the musicians. Don't you like them?

The musicians in question seem a little lost as queen and king reach the middle of the great dance floor and come to a halt. The harper and the drummer look at the singer, the singer at the flautist, the flautist at the violinist and the violinist at the floor.

Zelda can see why Lady Dayan doesn't like them. They lack skills in the art of improvisation; she, however, does not. "I hope you know the 'Fox and Hound' because we're about to dance it," she whispers. It's easy and certainly more elegant than other classic dances like 'Toss the Count' or 'Apple Picking'. As a nobleman, Julius should know his dances, but Zelda won't have any troubles to lead if she must. "The-"

"Fox and Hound please and thank you! One, two, three, go!" Julius turns to her with a meaningful look. With incredible speed, the musicians' faces go from confused to composed and start playing a slow version of the requested song at once to the cheers of the gathered guests. Getting into position, Zelda watches with unease as Julius pulls the white gloves off his hands and stuffs them into the pockets of his doublet. "Of course I do," he says, joining his icy fingertips with hers, "in fact, it's my favorite."

The Fox and Hound is a dance for beginners. Someone who's never danced it before might pick up the steps just by observing a dancing couple for a few minutes, and yet the true beauty of the dance lies in its difficult and graceful flair that certainly confuses the inattentive onlooker. Zelda is spun to the left, to the right, forward, and back to the left. Each time her flesh briefly connects with the king's, the coolness of his touch strikes her and is a reminder that the rest of his body must be this cool, too.

His hand clasps around hers and he leads her into a spin that wonderfully shows off her dress. The talented tailor must've had that in mind while designing it, even though Zelda had not meant to dance in it. Cape and train removed, the skirt of the dress hugs her spinning legs like soft white water. The faces of the cheering cloud fly past her as she turns; the only point of focus is her husband of gold. Two more turns; Zelda sees a flash of blue that wasn't there before, then, for as long as the dance move allows her to, her eyes meet the stern gaze of a woman with gold-gray hair and Julius' face.

Then her palm crashes against her husband's and she faces a smile that's bigger than most she's ever seen. Hylian beings are so easy to please.

Another few moments in, the music gets louder and faster and suddenly dancing couples spin and enjoy themselves all around the royal pair until there's barely any room left to dance.

Zelda, too, enjoys herself. She's never seen the usually so uptight Lady and Lord of Three Eye Rock so drunk before, never witnessed Lord Argon sport such an honest smile without any money being directly involved, never imagined Lady Fatface could actually get to an intoxicated state. Not to mention intoxicated enough to share a dance with Count Cleanhead.

The next song begins and the ladies and gentlemen eagerly form two rows to face each other. Accompanied by loud cheers and applause, the ladies perform their moves first, followed by the gentlemen. Four steps to the right and Zelda faces a southern lady's pimply son who looks up and smiles at her from under his patchy facial hair, spins and dances west. An old lord with limp ear tips holds his cold palm against hers, has her spin, and playfully curtsies as good as he can as it's the ladies' turn to move on.

At one point, Lady Fatface slips on a banana skin and almost falls –if not for the astonishingly swift reflexes of Count Cleanhead– and Zelda loses it and laughs so hard that she almost forgets to change partner. She flies past a red-faced Ronan and this time his facial color isn't caused by rage, but by alcohol and joy. They share a spin Zelda has to lead, and upon parting she sends the stumbling old knight on his way with a wink.

A partner change later and she's paired up with some nobleman she doesn't know. Doesn't matter, he knows her. "You look fantastic, Your Grace," he screams into her ear, spinning around her, "what wouldn't I give for my lady wife to-" She spins away and doesn't hear the rest. What a vile old man.

The song ends just when Zelda faces Julius again. His cheeks are red and his eyes glisten with joy. She would love to deny him another dance, but the lady with the silver hair and the very Kokirian dress is watching her like a hawk. So Zelda lets Julius spin her around to the sound of the harp and the ocarina, while his green velvet doublet and the cloth-of-gold seams shine in the candlelight like the garb of the Hero of Time.

A lady and a lord pass them and pause for a moment, the lady wiping her wet eyes. "Din be good, you two are such a beautiful couple."

"I'm quite plain, but she's beautiful enough for the both of us," Julius jokes, and the nobles laugh like he said the funniest thing they have ever heard.

"You can't imagine my relief when I learned that you wouldn't marry that dreadful zoophile brute you imported!"

An invisible fist grabs Zelda's chest and begins to squeeze. Suddenly the dress seems too tight, her stomach turns.

"He's a freak. Different. Just look at him!" the lady exclaims.

"Oh, Darlene, you had too much to drink!" The lord hastily steers his lady away and leaves behind a laughing king and a queen shocked at such insolence.

"Let it go, she's drunk. You had no choice but to trade him. Please just enjoy yourself." Julius laces a kiss on her hand. This is not part of the dance. The cold mark of his mouth lingers on her skin as Zelda stretches her twitching fingers. "You're too beautiful to be upset. Not tonight." He pulls her close enough to tangle his feet in her dress during the next spin, and Zelda has to clutch his arm with all her might so he doesn't fall. He shakes his head, laughing. "Gosh, look at me. Embarrassing myself without haven't drunk nearly enough."

"I feel like that's my cue!" Link has approached the pair, doublet unbuttoned and full chalice in his hand. "I'll take this opportunity to dance with my sister before someone else beats me to it- again. Let me just-"

"If you let me wait, someone will beat you to it and I will gladly let them. You can always drink later." Zelda snatches the chalice away from her brother and shoves it into Julius' hand, who bows and makes a beeline for the dais.

"Goddesses, Zel, you're burning up! Seems like you've danced too much," Link says, awkwardly stepping from one foot to the other and spinning under Zelda's arm. Even the most expensive dance teachers couldn't combat Link's lack of talent, but his poor dancing skills don't do his love for music justice. He is as passionate on the dance floor as he is on the battlefield.

"And you're freezing. Seems like you haven't danced enough." Another spin. Din, she's beginning to get dizzy. She lightly pats him on the rib. "Or just fasten up your doublet. You look like a commoner."

He flashes her a smile. "The crowd is so wild that I very much feel like the Hylian commoner. I want you to do me a favor."

"I will not mix lemon sauce with my wine. It was not fun three years ago, it won't be fun now," Zelda says, inwardly shuddering at the thought of the disgusting concoction.

"That's not it. I want you to dance with Lord Ike."

"No."

"Please." He stops, dances on the spot, panting. "Just one dance and that's it. Do it for me. I heard about the wine cellar and something with laguz fur and… I'm just concerned. It's not right that you live under the same roof while-"

"You forget that he tried to-"

"-kill you, no I do not, but it's your wedding and I want everyone to get along," he says with a smile just as sweet and fake as Zelda's. "Please. Do it for me."

She would snort like a mad bull, clench her jaw like a spoiled child and storm off like a craven knight. But adults, especially queens, don't do that. Link, the Idealist. The dream of a peaceful situation has never been alive to begin with; and if it has, that ship has sailed when Zelda decided to wear one of the lord's fellow Tellians. "Fine."

As she's back sitting on the dais, Zelda mentally slaps herself over and over. She hasn't seen the lord on the dance floor even once, but she knows her brother. Link is not afraid to talk his mouth off to get what he wants.

She's silently playing with her chalice, having long emptied it, listening to the incoherent ramblings of the King of Hyrule. Julius Harkinian the First. Such a common name. His chalice is almost empty too, so Zelda signals a nearby servant to take care of that issue.

"I take it this place is empty. 'Twas nearly impossible to talk to you earlier tonight, but now…" Lucia sits down on Link's chair. Princess Lucia of Hyrule. How absurd everything is.

"It is. My brother can't sit still for five minutes, but you know that, being his loving wife."

"I do. Well, the wine is flowing in abundance and I don't hold mine as well as he does."

"Pity." Zelda doesn't care. She's bored out of her mind and would love for the abundantly flowing wine to benefit her. But she won't take any chances tonight. Link sure looks like he's having fun though, keeping a waiter with a full plate of cakes at his side and talking to Lady Liga and Lady Pema. She recalls seeing him dance at least twice with Lady Noani tonight. "You're not used to being disliked, are you?" she asks, turning to the Crimean woman beside her.

"Excuse me?"

"Those two," Zelda says, and indeed, Lucia automatically looks to the ladies conversing with her husband. "And not just them. This party is so boring that I've taken to observing people. Did you know that the Lady of Maze Island has a lover? I didn't know either, but they snuck away about five dances ago, and her husband has no idea. I've seen you interact with the nobles. Liga, Pema and Noani hate you because they wanted to be princesses themselves. The rest will instinctively hate on anything that's different."

Someone brushes some hair behind her ear. The cold sensation makes her turn around with a shiver. "You're so beautiful," Julius says, his eyes big and sincere. She can hear and smell the wine in his words.

"And what can I buy with my beauty? Thank you, dear." She pushes his paw away and turns back to the woman with the blue hair and round ears. Lucia looks so miserable all of a sudden that Zelda snaps her fingers and has a servant present the Crimean with a chalice filled with that painfully delicious wine. "There, enjoy this. You'll be better off not expecting any wonders. Half of them still side-eye Twilis when our races have been living together for ages. Piece of advice? Ignore them."

Lucia clasps her thin fingers around the metal chalice. Her knuckles have gone white, but her face remains hard. "I'm their princess."

"And I'm their queen. They're a hateful bunch. Tonight I've given them free food and drink, so they love me. Tomorrow they'll go back to fighting my taxes. Drink." Someone who obeys her, at last. Zelda observes Lucia as she downs the wine in one go. The Crimean is as lithe as she was when they last met in Melior, and the colorful dress lies loosely on her stomach. No bump that might indicate an unwelcome addition to the family. "In case you care to prolong your stay in Hyrule: Ask my brother to take you to the Mountains of Time. You won't regret it." The suggestion earns her a thankful but surprised look. Zelda sighs. The one time I try to be nice. "I'm not planning on having you pushed off a cliff. The mountains are worth seeing."

"You're so… I can't…" Julius' slurred words remind Zelda to direct her attention to him. His chin now rests on his hand. "I don't know. Words fail me."

Yeah. That's the wine. And his chalice is empty. A servant comes running at Zelda's behest. "Do feel free to express yourself. We have all night."

"It's just… hard to grasp how… someone… like me," and he gestures to himself with his own chalice, spilling the wine, leads it to his mouth, drinks, and has sense enough not to motion with the thing in the direction of Zelda and her white dress, "ends up with someone like you."

Her husband being a calm and honest drunk is not a surprise, but very pleasant still.

"It probably involved hours of negotiations, lots of money and the ability to regard your own offspring as cattle. Not that hard to grasp when you think about it. Very troubling though." Lord Ike has beaten Zelda to an answer. He stands on the dais in front of their table, towers over them and looks absolutely bored. All of a sudden she's reminded of another wedding and another situation like this. He was wearing black then, he is wearing black now, the headband is the same. He isn't clean-shaven like the other gentlemen.

Something turns in Zelda's stomach. How she hates him. "Look who's come to light up the party."

"Incidentally, I've come to ask you for a dance."

"Who forced you?"

"Lucia."

Zelda sends the woman a pointed look, but Lucia looks away. "And I shall please my brother."

"Splendid." His voice is flat and full of conviction. Yes, he really must mean it. Zelda stands up with a suppressed grunt and follows the lord down. As soon as the people realize the queen herself is in their midst, which is the second she steps on the dance floor, they form two rows, and the musicians change tune in the middle of the song. The two ladies to Zelda's left and right place themselves at least three steps away from her. It seems like without the protective aura of her new husband, the people feel like she warrants a safety distance. Lord Ike appears to receive the same treatment though, Zelda concludes as she looks at him standing across from her, empty space to both of his sides.

They take a step forward. His hands are behind his back, hers are on her hips. "Nice wedding," he says.

"Thank you," Zelda answers. They take a step back and another step forward. "I planned it myself."

"Really?"

"No. I have a realm to rule." One forward, two to the right and back to the left, and Zelda faces him. He's not that much taller. "This is Hyrule's wedding, not mine. I couldn't care less."

"I noticed. You didn't anticipate that first dance. Looked somewhat clumsy."

Jerk. "I didn't think it essential. And you aren't supposed to talk during a dance."

Everyone else is talking, of course, but most of the guests are inappropriately drunk. It's gotten so late that no one cares about manners anymore either way.

Lord Ike, the man who just called her clumsy, but whose current dance moves look anything but graceful, chooses to ignore her less than subtle jab. "You buy the city watch and the army by actually lowering their wages but don't think a popular wedding trend essential. You're a tough nut to crack."

"Why would you even want to crack me?" They've spun around each other five times. The Ocarina starts to play and Zelda spins on her own, then it's the lord's turn. One step back, another forward, and they walk between the rows of dancers to go back to face each other at the end of the row, waiting for the others to perform their moves.

"Pure boredom," he shouts over the music and the distance, something that is attested by his stoic face but challenged by his eyes that don't look bored at all. "Seems like I won't be getting my rights back anytime soon. Everything here is so fucking boring. You're many things, but boring is not one of them. That's your one positive attribute."

"You're not boring either. I'd rather you were." Zelda narrows her eyes. It genuinely looks like there's a smile forming around his mouth. Almost. It's his eyes. They're smiling. What's that gerudo shit up to?

"Your Grace, sorry for interrupting," the count to Lord Ike's left suddenly says, "but I have to tell you how beautiful you are."

If she took a sip of wine for each compliment she's gotten tonight, Zelda is sure that she would already be unconscious, if not dead.

"If that's supposed to be a compliment, you should congratulate her parents on finding the most appealing mate they could," Lord Ike interrupts the western count who interrupted him, and the man acknowledges the Crimean's presence by leaning away from the foreigner, giving him a look any normal person would give an alleged zoophile.

"But her parents are…" the count feebly offers with a confused and disgusted look on his face. Zelda wonders whether he contemplates actually going to her parents' graves to thank them.

"Dead," she says and turns back to Lord Ike, leaving the western count alone with his confusion.

"I can't decide what's more worrisome. Your wit or the stupidity of your people," Lord Ike says, staring at the spot between Zelda's brows and ignoring the appalled face of the count. They dance away, spin and make a few coordinated steps Zelda is very surprised he can perform. "There's too much spinning in these dances."

"Now that's a compliment."

"Only if you think terror becomes you. You killed your captain's relative and everyone's just too dense to figure it out."

The music grows deafening and so do the cheers. The dancers take a step towards their partners and spin around each other palm to palm for the finale, but there's no way on earth Zelda is touching that peasant, not even through his gloves. Lord Ike doesn't even offer his hand to begin with. He just spins with his arms behind his back and his eyes glued to the white lace on her neck. They're close enough to each other that there's no risk of anyone overhearing their conversation, but the music is so loud that Zelda has to almost scream to make sure he understands her. "Give up on the wine. You sound like a conspiracy theorist."

"I've had two refills, thank you. How are you going to kill your husband?"

She's dizzy already, and the change of direction buys her enough time to compose herself and gather her wits. In contrast with the white dress, even her sudden pallor must look tan. "Beg your pardon?" She will not be the one to look away, but between the music and the cheers and the blood pumping in her veins and drumming in her ears like crazy, she hopes that she can hear him.

"You can't form an emotional attachment unless you can drink the thing you're attached to," he says. Like through a miracle, the music stops just then. The guests cheering and thunderously clapping muffle Zelda's half-swallowed gasp.

He's got that smug gleam in his eyes again. She longsto scratch them out. Her skin feels so hot that, if she didn't know that's impossible, she'd say it's literally burning up. Like she could scorch his eyes with just a single touch. "Oh, my lord," she says instead, thanking him for the dance with a nod and the most amused smile that's ever graced her lips, "you know my marriage will prosper."

Having won this battle, she returns to the dais. A noble from the New World has brought wine from his own vineyard as a gift for the newlyweds, which is just now being served. Zelda picks up two chalices on her way back. It would be rude of her not to try any of it, and her husband must taste it.

That night, there is no point for her to go to sleep. The fireworks and the dances went on until late in the night. When the sky wasn't illuminated with fiery flowers anymore, it was almost beginning to brighten with the morning sun, and that was when the guests finally let the royal couple go.

Zelda looks at the sleeping form of her husband. He's curled up into a ball beneath the covers and drools on his pillow. He's fully clothed. Sometime during the night, the green doublet got red and purple stains, some of them so late and fresh that they colored the bed sheet when he fell on it, having previously staggered into the chamber. He lost consciousness the moment he hit the bed.

Since then, Zelda's been laying on the bed's other edge and staring at the ceiling, counting the minutes. Finally, after a loud snore from the stranger to her bed, she decides to find a maid to help her get dressed.

A/N: Flame Falcon came up with the brilliant "emotional attachment" comment and I won't take credit for that.