August 12th
Miserable menace. Petulant parvenu. Wretched lip curling, rupee filching, dust shuffling, lard snarfing, blustering blowhard! I stand with the bane of my miserable existence teetering on the brink of clawed clutches, and I'll be accursed if every soul this side of Hyrule doesn't cast himself contrary!
My simply having risen before the sun proving in and of itself quite annoyance enough, I ventured this morning into the castle with the "prize" to be acquired from the second of the puzzles three - a schedule of the king's daily routine. With no indications given of as much, it details the hours and locations of his every meal, frivolity, and duty in an implicitly vague list. That numbskull knight will wander off with it, scratching his head, presuming it to be another puzzle rather than but the first nail in his career's coffin. My intention was to plant this paper within the visor of the lone suit of armor that stands adorning an infrequented corridor. I was all but a handful of steps away from accomplishing this when the door at the hall's far end jarred open. Flinching, I forced a nervous chuckle and began rattling off the formalities of a stranger in passing until I realized that the gentleman who had entered was nothing of the sort.
"Oh…" I had begun, "G-good morning! I hadn't expected to encounter anyone up here at such an early…" the final word caught in my throat, emerging with an air of disgust, "...hour."
Archibault Ganthe, the only soul in Hyrule I despise nearly as much as that wretch of a knight, eyed me with a smite-inciting smirk as he approached.
"Ohh," he expressed, as though in pity, "Mister Sweet. At it again, I see."
Determined within my conscience to refuse his contentious bait, I returned a cordial nod and resumed walking. "Good day, Ganthe."
"Mister Ganthe." He stopped and turned as I passed. "Something the matter?"
"No." My tone remained flat; my steps, steady; my face, forward.
"A little courtesy next time, then?"
An indignant sneer crept across my face at that remark, but my pace never faltered. You're going to have to do better than that, you insufferable prig. I had nearly reached the door at the far end, was nearly there, when he spoke yet again.
"And don't think I don't know what you're trying to do. I see you following him around like a stray dog, and it's deplorable. Quite sad, really."
The door lingered open, stayed by my hand as I abruptly found myself motionless beside it.
He'd done it again...only this time was different. Any manner of dispute or insult or castigation I could have endured from him at this point, but this remark pierced my heart through with the ominous possibility that he had somehow seen too much...and it was too much to dismiss.
But my face remained a stone. "Following whom?"
I could feel his triumphant grin searing into my flesh as he sauntered over.
"My apologies. Allow me to narrow the list down for you. Pointy ears, works for royalty, has the best thing that could ever but will certainly never happen to you in his hands."
My face had to have blanched pale at this point, my stance as fixed as the nearby suit of armor. Dozens of questions assailed my every memory concerning the knight. When? How? Would Ganthe, too, be necessary to destroy?
He so savored my silence. I've yet to observe a gratification that rivals his hearing himself speak. "It goes without saying that you've zero qualification for anything he has to offer," he continued. "But don't get me wrong; I'm not saying this to antagonize you. I'm simply trying to save you some embarrassment. Rather, to save our entire kingdom some embarrassment. You need more than nobility and some newspaper poems to have any standing amongst the intellect of the Tabanthan Rito Troupe. They deserve better. They deserve someone of formal symphonic upbringing."
His collective insult at last succeeded to penetrate my near panic with the realization that he was not referring to the knight. It was Sabon of whom he spoke, of the candidacy for the fine arts apprenticeship. My relief was too profound at that moment for me to feel indignant. I merely resumed breathing and walking.
"Good day, Ganthe." I'd omitted the title again, unintentionally, though he undoubtedly presumed otherwise. His subtle chuckle resounded through the corridor as the door clasped behind me.
Of course I'm not qualified for the apprenticeship. I've certainly no need for a glorified heap of donkey dung like you to point it out to me! Blighting braggart.
My conscience had begun to absorb the venom of his words by the time I stepped out of the castle, stewing already at the obstruction. He'd likely be elsewhere in a few hours, I mused. He had better be. There remained a letter to be composed as well, but these brooding reflections were sure to impede any hope of concentration. I decided then and there that I was due a moment dedicated to no one but myself. A treat. A moblin claw. Yes, I coaxed myself, my tireless labors under a shroud of depression had earned at least this much. To the cafe I marched.
"I'll have a hot tea and a moblin claw, please," I recited to the waitress. As she walked away I casually glanced about, soon spotting Khloe but a few tables from mine, sipping coffee. Immediately I recalled her conversation with Carlaisle at the Deya inn, at a loss as to just how far that topic had progressed. As fervently as I wished to know, I rather didn't, but having already placed my order, I hesitated against better judgment to slip out. Hardly a minute passed before she noticed me.
"Edwin!" She sat attempting to wave me over, her elbow nearly toppling her cup. A grueling sigh hissed out as I rose and approached her table. "Wow, Edwin, you look tired." She paid no heed to my glare, a futile deterrence of the inevitable invitation. "Here, have a seat! We were surprised to see that you had left already the other day. We were hoping to get to have breakfast with you and see you off."
I sat across from her, leaning into the table, fingers drumming in silent succession. "...I had things to do."
Predictably, she prattled at length about the "delightful" water puppet show and a far more enjoyable supper than that of the previous evening. She then expressed her disapproval of Sabon's behavior, and, of course, her concern regarding my own. Her words had degraded into a muffled warble in the back of my mind by that point, receiving as much acknowledgement, until she called my name.
"Edwin...we're really worried about you." Her tone had dropped. "Listen, the best thing you can do when you're hurting or upset is to talk about it. And if there's some kind of trouble or danger, you really need to just let the royal guard handle it. It's not going to do anybody any good to go around fretting about something that's beyond your control." Her words were suspiciously specific...the manner of specific that stems from a certain blabbering windbag's broken promise.
"I don't know what you're talking about," I muttered sternly, searching all the while for that damn waitress.
She eyed me in silence for a brief moment. "Carlaisle told me about your situation with the princess and her knight." She out and out admitted it. I cast my glare back at her, all the more smoldering. "But I think it's more than that," she pressed on. "I think you've become obsessed, and it's really affecting your well being. What you're doing lately is not benefitting anyone, but I think you're letting your feelings cloud your judg-"
"What feelings?!" I'm certain every head in the cafe turned at that outburst, but my furor had had its fill of courtesy. "I'll tell you of my feelings. You know absolutely nothing about me or about my 'situation,' none of which is any of your affair in the first place, and I've no intentions of being reprimanded or hearing advice from a meddling courtesan who sleeps with a man before she's married him!" I shoved myself to my feet and stormed off, leaving her gaping.
"Edwin!" Her voice was already all but lost in the distance I'd put between us. Not once did I look back. I hastened straight home and locked myself in, lest she or some other imbecile take it upon himself to impose on my very existence.
And how correct that notion wound up to be. While I was yet scrawling in this journal there came a knock on my door, which I paid no mind. Minutes after, I ventured downstairs for a drink and discovered a note from Carlaisle had been slid beneath my door. Seems he's a bit miffed at my words with Khloe and wants to talk. No, Carlaisle. You do not want to be within the utter realm of what I would have to say.
Enough of this. I have a task to accomplish, and no one is going to hinder me this time.
I've just returned from the castle. When I reached the corridor with the suit of armor, Ganthe was not present. No one was. I briskly approached the armor and in a fluid stroke lifted the visor and stuffed the paper in. In like fashion I proceeded back down and out, emerging as bold and accomplished as I've ever felt, taking all of ten steps in the sun before I slowed to a stop. As if further empowered by the beams of the sun itself, I realized that my triumph didn't have to end there. I spun on my heel and strode straightaway back in.
"Ganthe!" I'd found him near the library employing his self-perceived charms on a young female servant. He flinched a bit at hearing his name projected so sharply. My steps were equally sharp as I trod right up to his loathsome face. Then I smiled, ever so wryly. "Mister Ganthe. I just wanted to express my appreciation for our little chat earlier today. It really got me thinking about the apprenticeship, and I've decided to accept Mister Turste's offer."
"Is that so?" His surprise shifted into an incredulous grin. "To train as what, a jester?"
"It doesn't matter. I don't care if they make me a jester or dress me up in a green fairy suit and make me float around on inflated octoroks. The only thing that matters is knowing you will never get it."
Ganthe stared and blinked and cast a nervous glance to the servant he'd been attempting to court, then quivered with a most awkward and gratifying laugh. "I-I never said anything about wanting the apprenticeship! I've no need or desire to pursue a career in the fine arts."
"Splendid, because you never will! Good day, Mister Ganthe. Miss." I granted a proper nod to each of them and was on my way. He was still stammering and jabbering behind me. Ha!
I'm finished caring what others think. As soon as I've taken out that wretched knight, I'll be off to rub elbows with the Ritos. Or rub wings. Whatever. I'll make my own star shine. The princess can wallow in her lover's laments. I shall be moving on to better horizons.
Let them even try to stop me.