A.N: Hello once again, my fantastic readers!
I must first apologise for the appalling delay in getting this chapter out and feel I owe an explanation of what's been going on. Unfortunately, over the last four months I have been suffering from multiple health issues (none Covid related), the most serious being my thyroid gland going into meltdown. For those who don't know, the thyroid gland is sometimes called the master gland, because it is responsible for maintaining and controlling all the other glands. Unsurprisingly, my thyroid gland going haywire led to pretty much every bodily function following suit. I am now on medication and am slowly recovering, however it could take up to a year to fully stabilise my condition. As such, it may be the case that further delays for future chapters may be unavoidable, for which I apologise.
As for this chapter, I leave it to your judgement but, due to my condition, I fear it may not be up to my usual standard (Two of my main symptoms are extreme exhaustion and an inability to concentrate). I felt, however, given the support and enthusiasm you've shown me so far with this not-so-little passion project of mine that I couldn't deprive you of new content any longer.
Rest assured, despite my condition, I still love writing this story (especially with the knowledge that people enjoy it) and will endeavour to Complete it – though the finish line is still a long way off.
As always, I greatly appreciate your feedback. It lets me know I'm doing something right and is a great motivator, so keep your reviews coming.
Anyway, enough about me. Hope you are doing well and that you enjoy this chapter.
Now on with the story.
Chapter 28 – A Head In The Chase
Leguna Estate stables – 280 AG
His nose may have been thick with the aroma of leather, hay and horse manure, while chattering and commotion tickled his ears from every direction, yet Link still had to stifle a yawn and resist the urge to rub his eyes. It wouldn't be too hygienic and the princess probably wouldn't appreciate the races being delayed because he accidentally rubbed something in his eye. Argh, don't think of the princess! Not after last night. Unfortunately, from the scandalous flashes he was teased by with every groggy blink, it would appear the images of last night's recurring "dream" had been tattooed onto the inside of his eyelids.
It seemed his subconscious had been taking notes during his carriage ride with Zelda, with some additional inspiration from Shad's encounter with Tamara and her "siren" sisters, particularly the comatose inducing finale. The unholy result was a vision of a seductive sapphire eyed mermaid with cascading chocolate brown tresses, lounging in a hot spring, beckoning him to join her, her modesty only preserved by a veil of perpetual, impenetrable cloud of swirling steam.
The face was all too familiar yet the look she gave him made it all to clear she was no innocent princess. Naturally, being a gentleman – and knowing the ending of most tales involving such alluring creatures – he resisted her suggestive pose and provocative gaze. However, all his heroic resistance crumbled every time she sung her sweet sensual song and his body would inevitably lead him into the hot steamy water. The last thing he'd see was her luscious strawberry lips closing in… and then he'd wake up, chastise himself for such thoughts before lying in bed for the next hour, trying to purge the images from his mind as he waited for sleep to claim him once more. Then as sleep claimed him, so too would his ethereal temptress and the cycle would repeat.
His daydreaming heart may have occasionally taken him into ridiculous romantic fantasies, going so scandalously risqué as to picture holding hands or sharing a kiss in the moonlight, but they couldn't even compare to the filthy depravity his mind had insinuated last night. He may not have glimpsed her naked form; he may not have even witnessed the moment their lips touched but it was blatantly obvious the "intended result" would produce more steam than the hot spring it was done in and that even more than tongues would be involved. To think that he could even consider such lewd actions with his pure princess…
As shameful as such dreams were though, they were a million times better than being repeated subjected to nightmares of her horrific demise at the hands of Ganondorf, while he could do nothing to save her. Indeed, last night was his first without a single nightmare, since the appearance of the masked man. That had to count for something.
Pfff!
There was a snort of disapproval from his horse, a grey stallion by the name of Guysim, though he seemed more responsive to "Guy". Guy had, until now, displayed the implacable temperament of a great oak, so his sudden outburst of annoyance, accompanied by a stern eye came as an unwelcome surprise. What did he have to complain about?
…
Well actually something did look decidedly odd but he couldn't quite… Ah… yes, he'd put the saddle on backwards. That would teach him to pay atten…
"Ah, Sir Link, do yo aqueer acidstance?" Great, not only had his dopiness made him look an idiot but it had also gifted him the additional embarrassment of being successfully ambushed by the man with the world's loudest wardrobe. Time to get his translation hat on.
"Oh, Sir Tywin, no. Ahem, thank you for your most, um, generous offer but…" he paused for a laboured huff as he hefted the heavy saddle round to its correct position. "… I'm good, I'm good. Just a little absent-minded mistake. That's all."
The duke was about to reply when he was interrupted by a familiar giant stopping in the stall doorway to sneer "You need a brain to be absent-minded, Hedgeborn!" Insult delivered, the insufferable bastard swaggering off, chuckling sardonically to himself and carving a path straight through several unfortunate stable-hands.
There was a pause as the hero and duke watched Sir Halshaw's receding form and laugh ringing down the line of stalls, his sudden raucous appearance startling some of the residents as he passed. When the horse's snorts and whinnies finally calmed, Tywin shook his head and gave a snort of his own. "A most disagrayable man. For one born noble he's manner stink like common muck."
Wow, something they could agree upon! "Yeah, he can be quite an ass when he puts his mind to it."
"Not like your fine mare here." Tywin replied, oozing cloying flattery.
"Actually, he's a stallion." Link corrected curtly.
"But I'd heard your stead was a mare, one of some renowned if I'm mistaken?" He could assume there was a missing 'not' in that sentence. Regardless he wasn't about to start an argument over it.
"Oh, my normal stead is. It's just… she's rather temperamental…"
"Aren't all women." The duke laughed as though his wry remark were the pinnacle of humour, an opinion which Link couldn't agree with. Nevertheless, with great strain, he managed to squeeze out a half-hearted chuckle as something told him not at least "placating" the man's inflated ego could end badly.
Forced chuckle finished, he promptly disregarded the sentiment as he replied "Anyway, given my rise in rank, her highness generously granted me use of one of the royal horses and even this saddle. Sir Tywin, may I present Guysim, the royal stallion, or just Guy to his friends. Guy, this is Sir Tywin… eerrr, I'm sorry, your full title escapes me." He didn't want a diplomatic incident but there was part of him – a childish, petty part – that actually hoped he'd annoy him.
"Please, just Sir Tywin to my friends…" The peacock noble graciously forgave the "unintended" slight – suspiciously gracious, given the man's ego. "… Always eager to assist a good friend. Are you quite sure you do not require my help in his preparations?"
"No, thank you." Came Link's curt but polite reply, concealing his irritation. Why did Tywin feel the need to insist they were friends?
Tywin took no offense at his curtness, however his odiously jovial demeanour abruptly evaporated. His moustache twitched and he gave a very formal sounding cough. "Ahem, yes… well… as selfless and generous as I am and always willing to help a man in need, I didn't come here simply to aid you with your saddle. There is a matter I very much hope to settle with you."
A matter to settle? What in Hyrule could a foreign dignitary, suitor to the sovereign and walking paintbox explosion have to settle with him? "Oookkkkaaayyy? Sure, what's the matter?"
"Well… a sauce has exsponged to me that you have touched her highness…" What?! "… in the evening." WHAT?! Given what he'd been forced to witness last night, any talk of touching the princess was the last thing he needed to hear, especially touching her… in the "evening"! But what in all Hyrule could the man actually be referring to? Was someone spreading rumours?
Restraining the many exclaimed expletives and protestations that sought to escape his forcibly pursed lips, Link saw just one fitting response; a puzzled cock of the head and a confounded query "er, I touched her… in the evening?"
"Yes. Yesterday evening."
Yesterday evening? But his only interaction with her…? Then it all clicked together. It would seem the combined shocks of the saddle and Tywin's ambush had fired up his sleepy mind. This was about that servant with the footstool and the accent! He knew he recognised the accent from somewhere, though it wasn't surprising he hadn't immediately placed it because the servant's speech had been significantly less garbled than his master. But why would it be up to the servant of a suitor to provide a footstool to aid the princess disembarking her carriage? Again, his newly reinvigorated brain figured the most likely answer quickly. Clearly, the Grand Duke had sent the servant as a further means to impress and ingratiate himself with her highness; a token of his "affections", to show his consideration and generosity… by having those he deemed beneath him do the work!
Ok, so he'd pieced it all together but Tywin was still waiting for a reply; a reply which was rather harder to formulate. Should he come clean or feign ignorance? The latter was preferable but it would ultimately only prolong the inevitable. "Yesterday evening? Are you talking about me helping her highness down from her carriage?"
"It was a most considerate gesture but entryly unnestesury. My servant had already provided a stool for her highness to get off to."
Get off to?! Link valiantly ignored the accident euphemism as he rebuked. "Actually, her highness had already accepted my helping hand by the time your servant arrived."
"Really? That's not what he told me. Hmm, no matter. Your mistake was entryly innocent in nature ahahahannnnddd what sort of gentleman would I be if I held you low in regard for such things. I would simply ask that you promise to ask my permission before partaking in such actions in future…" Asking his permission?! There was only one person's permission he cared about and she had been the one to take his hand! "… After all, no man would want another inappropriate handle his property." Excuse me! Property! PROPERTY! The presumption! The arrogance! No one owned Zelda - especially not this prick! – and if the royal shield could keep it in his duties, he'd make sure it stayed that way.
Link had to restrain the urge to punch the Dukes insufferable mug. Fortunately, the insufferable mug provided a far safer alternative as he presented his hand to shake "As a gentleman, I'm sure you understand, Sir Link."
"Believe me, Sir Tywin, I understand perfectly" Link said, fixing an ingratiating smile as he took the duke's hand… and promptly crushed it. "Oh, I'm so sorry. Sometimes I don't know my own strength."
"Oh that's quite alright, quite alright… didn't hurt at all" Tywin smiled, trying to hide the squeak in his voice as he massaging his hand gingerly. He waited for his voice to descend from its dizzying heights and then, with his uninjured hand, gave Link an obnoxiously chummy slap on the shoulder. "… Certainly impressive though. No doubt came in useful on your adventures, slaying wild beast and, and, and… rescuing fair damsels – and slaying them too, if you know what I mean, hahahahaha…" Link knew what he meant but he wasn't laughing. "… and, and, and, um, err, exploring mysterious caves and temples… You know Link, my friend, I've always considered myself to have something of an adventurous spirit…"
It was certainly an absurd delusion, but Link wasn't responsible for the mocking cackle that sliced through the duke's bragging. No, that was thanks to a new noble – at least, by accent and moustache, he could assume the stranger was a noble. In appearance he couldn't be more opposed to the bright garish duke; clad instead in an all-black get-up, clamped tightly to his torso via many straps and belts. This stranger may have lacked Tywin's eye-piercing attire, instead going for what must have been some kind of dedicated riding outfit but he oozed the same self-satisfied swagger as he strutted into the stall as though he owned the place, still laughing. "Hahahaha, Adventurous spirit?! You?! Forgive me, my dear duke, but I have seen potted plants possessing more adventurous spirit than you!"
Tywin's eyes narrowed. "Ah, Sir Atherton Herkle, a pleasure as never." Sir Atherton Herkle? That name rang a bell… but why?
"If you are to try and engage in wit, duke, may I recommend actually learning the vagaries of the language first." Atherton sneered, before turning to Link and, ignoring Tywin's searing glare on his back, bowed reverently to the bemused hero. "Sir Atherton Herkle, at your service. It is truly an honour to make you acquaintance, Sir Link…"
Of course! Now he recalled the name. Another of Zelda's suitors. What's more, he had actually seen him round the castle several times while on guard duty. On every prior occasion, however, the man had seen fit to completely ignore his very existence. What had changed?
"… I apologise for my presumptuous introduction, but given the, ahem, inimitable company you have found yourself in, I could tell you were desperate for an intervention."
Tywin was quick to defend himself. "Your fancy words do not confuse me. I know preciously what you're incinerating and will have you know that Sir Link and I are firmly friends. He even delivered a poem of mine to Zelda."
"A poem? of yours?! Bahahaha! Oh, of course, of course. I'm sure it was a literary marvel…" Well, while Link may not have every read it himself, it had certainly stirred both Ashei's and Shad's artistic sensibilities – in very different ways!
"Mock me all you want but that only proves you the fool. Sir Link will vouch for the poem, will you not?"
Link had only been partially listening, his focus instead directed on his grey Stallion, who, while less hot-headed than his faithful Mare, was showing signs of being significantly more sensitive, shuffling anxiously back and forth as stiff, twitching ears swivelled at the blustering suitors. The sudden question startled the horse and jolted Link back into the conversation. Shit! He hadn't prepared his lying game. He fumbled for a moment but then had an epiphany. "Oh, um, yes, he did give me a poem he wrote for Zelda for me to deliver to her." One of the few political lessons he remembered: the best lie is a truth without context. None of what he'd said was technically false. Tywin had given him a poem for him to delivery to Zelda… he just hadn't actually delivered it.
"Reeeaaallly?" Drawled Atherton, oozing disbelief. "… And what did you make of it? Was it poetic perfection incarnate?"
"I don't know. I didn't read it." Link answered flatly.
The sceptical suitor pressed him. "Oh, but surely Her Highness's reaction would be a good indication?"
"I never saw it and I wasn't about to pry into something that wasn't my business." he snapped tersely, irritation rising as he continued to try and calm his increasingly nervous stead. The last thing he wanted – or needed - was an unintended repeat of the stables incident with Sir Halshaw.
The two bickering suitors, however, appeared utterly oblivious, both to the stallion's mounting distress and the hero's growing annoyance. "Aw, such a pity. Nevertheless, I presume you were paid handsomely for your generous services."
"No, besi…" Link quickly restrained his usual gracious downplaying of such a favour as "no trouble". His growing suspicions of Atherton's intentions were telling him he'd likely never hear the end of it. After a pause, where he tried to formulate some response to hide his change of tack or deflect the conversation, he returned to the simple, flat answer of "no…"
Tywin frowned, clearly taking umbrage at the implication that he was anything but a fountain of munificence, however his indignant protest was cut off by his rival, revelling in the opportunity to smear the competition. "Is that so? Rather belies the charitableness that comes with such high station as ours, Sir Tywin…" he sneered smugly before - once again ignoring the duke's reaction - turning to Link, he clapped an unwanted hand on his shoulder, like they were old mates. "Now, if you were to do some favour for me, I could assure you Sir Link, you would be richly rewarded. Be it wealth, knowledge or good deeds, I am nothing if not princely. After all, how could I be expected to be any less when courting a princess. Hence know that, as Royal Shield and clearly trusted confidante of Her Highness, please consider me your friend and ally."
And there it was; suspicions practically spelled out it big red letters, the entire reason for Atherton's sudden interest laid bare. Honestly, until then Link had felt some trace of pride at reading the man's political motives but the sheer blatancy of the man's sycophancy rendered any such observation so obvious even an idiot could spot it. The question was, was it idiocy or arrogance which produced such transparency from Atherton? The answer could have been both judging by his next act of thoughtlessness.
"For example, I am a master with horses. I'd be happy to teach you a few tricks…" Atherton punctuated his gracious offer with a "friendly" slap to Guy's hindquarters, a gesture the stressed stallion clearly didn't appreciate. With a shrill squeal, the stallion returned the "friendly" tap with several of his own, as he proceeded to buck and thrash wildly, almost knocking the self-proclaimed horse master into the water trough. Tywin, meanwhile, demonstrated surprising agility by dodging a kick which would have taken his eye out, if not for his quick feet. Having escaped the horses reach, Tywin proceeded to glare at his rival and sneered. "A master of horses?! Bah!"
The two rivals broke into more fruitless bickering as Link, biting back his anger, attempted to calm his distressed stallion. "Woooh, woooh, wooh, It's ok, it's allllright… It's alright…" Then, with Guy finally settling, he painfully forced a smile and rounded on the two unwitting culprits. His voice almost cracked, straining it to maintain civility. "I… I thank you Sir Atherton for your kind offer but I think I'm just fine without your, um, unique and, ahem… innovative approach. Now, if you don't mind, I'd like a little peace while I finish here. Anyway, don't you have your own horses to prepare?"
"Pfff, us? Prepare our own steads? Nonsense! That's what servants are for…" Atherton scoffed. It would certainly explain why he was hopeless at reading horses. His riding prowess was probably all talk and no trousers too! "You know Link, I might be able to arrange for a servant of your own…" Oh yeah?! And just how many questionable favours would that cost him in return?
"Another most kind offer but no thanks…" Link clipped curtly "Now please… if you would be so kind." He gestured to the stall door.
"Ah, of course. I'll wait outside." Oh, how thoughtful, Atherton! As if I couldn't get enough of you.
"As will I. I would not leave a dear friend in such inomitable company." Of course! Can't risk a rival souring a "dear friend's" opinion of you, aye Duke!
"Oh, please don't let me keep you from the races." the frustrated hero made a valiant attempt at shooing these unwanted "companions", squeezing as much politeness as he could muster through clenched teeth.
Unsurprisingly such efforts proved futile as both rivals found themselves in a rare state of agreement, dismissing such a notion as "rude" and "uncivil". After reassuring him of their mutual noble intentions to "accompany and guide him through the murky waters of the social elite", they promptly sidled outside and, once out of sight, broke into open argument.
Link released a quiet groan and slumped against a hay basket. He just couldn't catch a break, could he? What a marvellous start to his first Vacation; being tantalized by salacious and shameful imaginings of a forbidden siren all night, only to wake up to a course of vulgar leeches in the morning. Oh well, he supposed he could thank his two new friends for at least supping any scenes or sensations of last nights dreams from his consciousness.
He'd wondered whether his promotion would change the way he was treated among the nobles but the reaction of Zelda's suitors had never crossed his mind. Thinking about it however, it made perfect sense. While some may not recognise his increase in social standing, his promotion from a glorified guard – one of hundreds – to her highness's dedicated personal protector was bound to attract their attention. By naming him Royal Shield, resurrecting a long-buried tradition to assign him, of all people, as her chosen guardian, she had inevitably outed him as among that small exclusive club of trusted allies. There were naturally only two ways suitors would see him; a potential asset to butter up… or an obstacle to her affections. Frankly, he didn't know which was worse.
The two leeches bickering voices, scraping against his thoughts, were joined by a third - unknown to him but clearly no stranger to them - and their conversation descended into a pissing match over riding skills. What was the bet it was yet another suitor?!
He glanced round the stall, compelled by the vain hope of some means of escape but knowing all too well he'd find none. In their one brief exchange following dinner the previous evening Zelda had alluded to possibly meeting him here, however that was looking increasingly unlikely.
With a sigh of resignation, he buckled up the last of Guy's harnesses and led the stallion quietly out the door, his half-hearted escape plan being to hide behind him and hope the three clowns would be too deep in debate to notice him slinking off. He wasn't so lucky.
"Aha, Sir Link! Not leaving without us, I hope? Hahahahaha" Atherton accosted him.
"Oh, I wouldn't dream of it." Link drawled with barely veiled sarcasm.
The third man started at the mention of his name. "Sir Link? As in… the chosen hero, Royal Shield to my beloved?..." Ugh, sometimes he hated being right. "… My, what a fortuitous coincidence it is to meet you here…" Yes, such a coincidence could never have been predicted! "Oh, pardon my manners. I was just overcome by meeting such an esteemed individual. I am Sir Azrid Pontificus Colbert, first son of the illustrious Lord Klemit Agrivous Colbert, at your service. It is truly an honour to make your acquaintance."
"Er, likewise. Now if you'll excuse me gentlemen…" Without even bothering to finish, the simmering hero turned and stomped out into the bright light of the stable yard and off in the presumed direction of the race grounds, following a bustling, babbling stream of horses, riders and servants.
An infectious buzz of excitement permeated the spritely early autumn air, complemented by the warm sun beaming down from a cloudless sky. So perfect and electric was that atmosphere that even Link - with all his many worries - would have been swept up in it, were it not for his three unshakable leeches.
"So, Sir Link, are you intending on racing today?" Asked Sir Azrid with nauseating enthusiasm, clearly intent on making up for being late to the party.
"Probably…" Link replied flatly.
"Probably?"
"Depends… may just go for a ride."
"Really? I would have taken you, the great hero of twilight to be raring for every ounce of sport and adventure you could get."
"meh, depends…" he droned.
"Hmm, well I must say I would personally be very disappointed if you didn't… Indeed, I was hoping for the honour of racing against you. I have heard high praise of your riding skills…" Oh really?! who told you that? "… and, not to brag but, being an expert horseman myself, virtually unrivalled in the kingdom, I'm always…"
Atherton smashed through Azrid's self-aggrandisement with a sound which crossed the boundaries between a jeer and the evacuation of late-night indigestion. "BaaaahhhhPfffffssss, Virtually unrivalled in the kingdom?! Don't make me laugh. I could outrace you! My fool of a brother could outrace you! Heck, even Tywin could do it!"
With this blatant attack on both his rivals, the brief ceasefire brought about by Link's presence quickly crumbled and the air was once again thick with the hollow roar of petty squabbling. The, by now, thoroughly piqued hero would have been happy to simply ignore them, their insular sniping granting blessed relief from actually having to engage with them. Unfortunately, he was forced to engage with them as, in their bickering, they all closed ranks around him and his sensitive stead, who was once again showing growing signs of distress. "Excuse me gentlemen…" he clipped sharply, trying to combine stern, polite and composed - as Zelda was so skilled at doing – in order to prevent either civil war or a stampede.
He partially succeeded. The three leeches weren't offended… but that may have been because they were too distracted dodging flailing horse legs.
As Link yet again worked to reign in his horse, the causes of his distress brushed themselves off and straightened their hairdos.
Azrid was the first to recover the powers of speech, his insufferably unaware comment almost inspiring Link to follow in his steads footsteps and kick the man. "By jove, that mare has a temper."
Link grit his teeth; all he could do to stop himself shouting. "He is a stallion and the only reason he did that was because you were crowding him. Now you're quite welcome to have your pissing mat… Oh I'm sorry, I mean argument, but if your gonna do it, do it… sssooommmewheeeerrrreeee else! Otherwise, could you kindly show some of your renowned civility and give my horse the respect he deserves."
The three suitor's contorted visages warned him that he may have gone too far but, such was his choler, that he found it hard to care that he'd potentially started a war. There were few things more repugnant to him than cruelty to animals… with the possible exception being cruelty to a certain princess. That was deserving of its own realm of torture!
Nevertheless, it was thoughts of jeopardising his position with her that almost forced an apology to his lips, not matter how undeserved. Fortunately, it seemed he didn't require it as, after running through a kaleidoscope of disturbing expressions, all three men managed to conjure ingratiating apologetic smiles and kindly backed away.
It was a surprise to see such prideful men stand for such a slight but even more so that his intuition appeared to take Sir Colbert's display as entirely sincerely. Atherton's visage, by comparison, came across as almost sickeningly false. Tywin just came across as gormless, a sentiment further compounded by his inane comment of "Oh, but of course. One should learn that civility is king." as if he hadn't been just as culpable himself.
Link didn't even bother to dignify such denial with a response, wordlessly setting off once more towards the growing hum of activate and excitement emanating from beyond the towering form of the grand white mansion. His three unwanted leeches trailed along a few metres back, though with the buzzing of their continued, albeit hushed, bickering, perhaps mosquitoes were a more apt descriptor.
On finally rounding the corner of the lavish mansion, expecting the same picturesque view of the grounds as on his arrival last night, Link was momentarily stunned by the metamorphosis that could have only occurred this morning. Where yesterday evening he had been greeted by an unobstructed scene of a cultivated man-managed meticulousness embracing dramatic natural beauty; he was now met by its antithesis.
Towering to almost the height of the house itself, casting a shadow over the drive, loomed a hulking obtuse wooden structure, presumably stands for the spectators of today's events. Many excited voices, stamping and creaking emanating from it. This was clearly the back of the stands but from what he could see there was clearly a stepped arrangement leading up to several elevated boxes. While undeniably impressive in both scale and how quickly it was erected, it was an unnecessary eyesore as far as the country-born hero was concerned. What was wrong with a few benches and a tent? If there weren't enough, he'd have happily sat on the grass.
His musings on the excesses of nobility were cut off as he was suddenly accosted by a familiar voice, just as humourless and aggressively plummy as always. "Ahem… Sir Link."
"Oh, hello Basil? To what to do I owe the pleasure?" If he was here to lecture him on etiquette, he could forget it. He had a servant in tow though… something else was up.
"Her Royal Highness requests your presence in the royal box at your leisure…" the spectacled courtier clicked his tongue "… though I'm sure she would prefer it sooner than later." He added under his breath.
"You disapprove?"
"I would not question Her Highness's wisdom…" Basil replied flatly. The was a clear "but" hanging from his tongue but it remained unspoken.
Link sighed. "Alright then, just point me in the right direction."
"Just go to the stands and Her Highness's presence will answer. Your horse will naturally have to be left at the stalls first however."
"What?! But I've just brought him from the stalls!"
Basil raised a brow. "From your direction I assumed you came from the stables?"
"Aren't they the same?"
For the first time since they'd met, the high-and-mighty courtier actually cracked a brief smile and chuckled lightly. "tsk, tsk, No, no, no. The stalls are merely small temporary paddocks for the horses between races. Do you seriously expect the horses to be ferried to and from the stables for every race? The stable hands would strike and the ever-so-patient nobility, well… Hmhmhm. Speaking of stable hands, Her Highness has supplied one for your convenience, should you wish to attend her presence immediately." Ah, so that explained the servant accompanying him.
"Sure…" Link handed over the reign's "… be careful though, he's quite jumpy this morning."
"It is truly an honour, Sir Link. Oh, and do not worry. Me and Guy are well acquainted." The servant bowed low and led the sensitive stallion away. As always, such displays of reverence left the hero restraining a wince but at least the servant was genuine… unlike the three leeches, who, upon his stead's depart, promptly blundered in.
"Ah Basil, my good friend…" Was there anyone Tywin didn't consider a good friend? "You're well, I take it. All the better for seeing me, of course! Hahahahaha…" The grand duke delivered a jovial slap to the courtier, just as he had to the hero. "Now I trust Link were not the only presence the princess desires?"
Basil's smile died the instant the duke addressed him. The stony-faced courtier step back stiffly and, prizing a handkerchief from the breast pocket of his pristine doublet, he proceeded to wipe Tywin's invisible essence from the shoulder. "… It is not in my purview to comment on her highness's desires. Sir Link was the only one whose presence she assigned me the responsibility of summoning. If you wish to enquire further on the matter, I suggest you take it up with Her Highness herself or Sir Herkle here… After all, he had attended an audience Her Highness no more than a half hour past…"
Hold up! If Atherton had been with the princess, why had he seen fit to come bother him? From the multiple gazes rounding on the man, it was clear he wasn't the only one asking that question. In response the noble gave the courtier a fierce glare. "Excuse me! What I do with the princess is my business."
"Correction. What you say to Her Highness in confidence is your business. When and where you meet her is court business and when you question her in public… that's everyone's business. What's more, see that you do not make a habit of such a disrespectful address as referring to Her Royal Highness, our sovereign ruler and your potential future betrothed as merely "The Princess", I thank you very much." The two men's mutual distain oozed from every pore. As Atherton simmered silently with gritted teeth, the courtier turned his attention back to the hero, his demeanour mellowing once more. "Now, unless you have any further questions, Sir Link, I will not keep you, as indeed you should not keep Her Highness waiting." He bowed reverently, however as he rose once more, he fixed the hero with an intense, "meaningful" gaze. "Ahem, oh, and Sir Link… remember, as Royal Shield, your oath has tied not only your life to her highness but also your reputation… be careful… be vigilant… and… good luck." He shot a frosty glance to each of the leeches, bid an equally cold farewell of "Gentleman…" and slipped away.
Atherton grumbled but Link didn't bother to waste his attention on translating the low guttural growls emanating from his sneering lips, which were slowly buried beneath the growing buzz of the stands as his feet set off once more, in search of his princess. His mind turned to mulling over the courtiers parting words. Was Basil still sceptical of his abilities? Maybe but that translation negated the look that came with it. No, his words had been a warning; perhaps general or perhaps about the specific company he found himself in? Given Basil's distaste of them the latter seemed likely.
The warning also hammered home a curse of his promotion which had dogged him since the day he learned the words of his oath to Zelda. "Never disgrace her honour and always, and in all ways, protect her from harm or distress from this breath forth until my last." The line resonated in his head. With it, he'd sworn to protect not only her life but her reputation too and yet, until now, she'd been protecting his! Now, through his promotion they were inextricably entwined.
Passing close by the hulking wooden structure, the weight of its presence seemed to press on him, just as did his responsibilities; and for a moment he regretted his promotion. Then he stepped out of stand's shadow and was greeted by an astounding vista of the estate grounds, the warm glow of the sun… and an unmistakable perfume. it may have competed with the cacophony from the forces of man and nature combined but it easily won his attention and, with it, instantly swept his misgivings away. How could he possibly say he regretted it when he could be with her?!
He turned his gaze from the expansive gently-inclined lawns of the estate to the steeply ascending stands, in search of her. The stepped seats were surprisingly packed with, not just servants from the estate, but also Kakariko residents and a scattering of rowdy Gorons. The carriages yesterday hadn't been travelling at the most blistering pace but it still must have been a fair few miles trek to get here. Why would they come all this way?
His eyes had ascended to the elevated noble boxes above when a sudden yell from the crowd gave a possible answer. "It's him! It's the hero!"
The response was far from immediate, the cry lost among the hubbub, but steadily more conversations halted with similar cries followed be more heads swivelling to see the commotion. Soon a cheering chant broke out, chaotic at first but growing more harmonised and incessant with every new voice which joined the chorus. Each new harmony was accompanied by another pair of fixated eyes, glowing with admiration, adoration or, in some cases… gazes so indecent one would confine them to the bedroom. Had they really come all this way… just to see him?
Embarrassment and unworthiness boiled up from his core, threatening to sear his whole face. His natural instinct to shrink beneath such attention seemed intent on folding him into the ground.
Spurred on by the knowledge of his and Zelda's entwined reputations and the fear disappointing her or his ardent audience however; he forced his chin up and pressganged his awkward grimace into something approximating a smile, waving bashfully to the cheering crowd as he passed. His eyes however, rarely met the beaming visages of his adoring fans, instead darting up to the high boxes, scanning for his waiting princess. All he found though were fashionable flocks of the extravagant elite, lounging on high in gold-leaf perches; all either preoccupied from preening, posturing and prattling on amongst themselves or, if they'd noticed the commotion below, casually condemning it with sullen scowls.
Perhaps she was in the next one? Certainly, his nose was telling him she was further along…
Link was suddenly distracted from his search by the sensation of being crowded. A frustrated glance behind revealed why.
Atherton and Tywin - both of who's companies had been instantly swept from his mind by Zelda's perfume - barged back into his awareness with astounding displays of ego, as they both assumed tight formation behind each shoulder and proceeded to wave to the crowd as though they were the ones being cheered. Link may have been uncomfortable with this hero worship but at least he'd done something to earn such adulation. Some among his fans were clearly affronted too, judging by the disparate jeers directed at them.
Hang on. Where was Sir Colbert? Oh, what did it matter? One less problem for him to deal with. Link returned to his search, focusing once more on Zelda's scent, though sadly it didn't entirely erase his two irritating escort's presence this time.
Their impromptu victory parade past the raucous crowd continued, and Link spotted a likely clue to the whereabouts of his princess; a red curtain dividing one of the upcoming noble boxes from the rest. Her perfume was growing stronger. Hang on, that's not her normal fragrance. He recognised it but couldn't place it or answer why it make his heart so jittery. True, her scent always ignited a spark in his most foolish organ but it didn't usually render it more febrile than a ferret down one's trousers.
Then, his gaze passed the boundary of the curtain and his breath was stolen from his parted lips. There she was… every bit as regal and beautiful as ever… no… more beautiful! No wonder his heart was feverish. Gazing down from on high, jewels twinkling under the sun's golden blanket, Zelda was clad, not in her usual regal purple, but in the devastatingly pretty pink dress she'd been wearing that fateful day they'd met in the hedge maze… the day of his infatuation – at least that's what he told himself. Zelda sapphire orbs fell on him and she gave him the same sweet subtle smile as then.
The immaculate personification of a quintessential fairy tale princess, her appearance instantly pulled him back to that scene in her private sanctum, surrounded by fragrant blooms, dappled sunlight peeking through the delicate cherry blossom above, the perfect complement to her unabashedly feminine radiance. He recalled it all; her sweet perfume mingling with the flowers, the rustle and sway of the blossoms in the spring breeze, the enchanting elegance of her poise, the steam rising off the fountain, the exquisite curve of her exposed… neck… Woah! Woah! Woah! There was no steam!
With last night's perverted corruption seeping into the treasured memory of his pure princess, Link froze and slammed his eyes shut in an effort to clear his head. His head was cleared but not by himself. Instead, the depraved thoughts were unceremoniously knocked from his mind as two broad shoulders barged him from behind, oblivious to his sudden stop. He staggered forward as though punch drunk and a smattering of laughter cut through the cheering crowd.
"Oh, dreadfully sorry, Sir Link. Is something wrong?"
"Sir Link, are you suffering from the imcopcity?"
The embarrassed hero was about to serve up some not-so-subtle sarcasm to meet the duo's synchronised sycophantic concern when he was distracted by giggles from the royal box. Mumbling an incoherent dismissal to the noble leech, he turned to see the culprit… or rather culprits. It was the Three T's; whose presence he'd been completely blinded to thanks to his dazzling princess. Seated demurely on her left, they had a jolly titter and swapped inaudible quips. Oh well, at least she didn't share their amuseme… oh wait, of course she did. Zelda may not have let it out but the sly tug on her lips - visible only thanks to his wolf supersight - belied her placid composure.
With his princess's subtle smirk, the giggle of her best friends and the unrelenting cheers of some over-enthusiastic spectators all threatening to burn his cheeks, Link made the executive decision to end this public spectacle and hopefully recover some self-respect from Her Royal Highness's presence. He gave one last wave to the crowd and punctuated its finality with an awkward bow, bringing his fans to riotous crescendo. Then, with cheeks burning with the ferocity of a new-born's illness, he headed for the steep steps which led to the royal box - and the lady who haunted his dreams, both waking and sleeping. He just had to keep those steamy visions out of his head.
"Wait, Sir Link, before you meet the princess, there's something I'd like to discuss…" Atherton's words were just audible over the crowd but Link purposefully pretended they'd been swept away in the climactic wave. He had no desire to hear whatever deal or favour the noble planned to spin for him.
He quickened his pace, bounding up the steps; fleet-footed as a goat, until he reached the red curtain, the one boundary separating him from his duty and the object of his heart's desire. He paused to compose himself and prepare for the sight of her.
He reached for the shimmering red fabric, only for it to be pulled back before he could grasp its folds. His heart responded by jumping into his mouth. There before him, practically within arm's reach was Zelda, resplendent in her finery and even more stunning up close. "Sir Link, don't you know it is the height of rudeness to keep a lady waiting?" Her words were stern but the effect was undermined by her twinkle in her eye, accompanying her veiled princess smile.
Link, finally dislodging his heart from his vocal cords, parted his lips to reply only to be cut off by Atherton's coming up just behind him. "Which is why I never will, my dear."
Zelda's smile remained but the sapphires lost their sparkle as they narrowed at the nobleman. "That may be, Sir Herkle, but you are not the one I was waiting for… or have you forgotten our last conversation so soon?"
"Not at all, my dear. I simply thought you may have changed your mind. After all, absence makes the heart grow fonder." Atherton flashed a debonair smile.
Unsurprisingly, this had no effect. "Perhaps… but not in an hour, even with one as…" The princess clicked her tongue sharply like the crack of a whip. "… charming as you, especially after some of the things you said."
"Come now. Surely such a minor qualm is of no consequence to our relationship? I even apologised for it."
"Yes, and you will be forgiven… in due course. It will not, however, be forgotten."
The debonair smile cracked with hints of a scowl, further punctured by Tywin, sliding into the conversation with all the subtly of a war boar barging through a brick wall. "Ah, have you been causing troble for my financier?..." He could only guess the idiot meant fiancé. Gee! The presumption of ego! That though was just the start. "I see you've had prepared a thron for me at your disserving right hand. I am honoured, but then again, it's only natural for you to desire me at your side."
For a rare moment Zelda appeared lost for words, the power of incredulity rolling her eyes up to the heavens, as if beseeching the goddesses themselves to help her comprehend the depths of the man's delusions of grandeur. When her gaze finally descended, she let slip a delicate cough which restored her prim placidness. "Ahem, no. Actually, as Atherton is well aware, that chair is reserved for the Royal Shield."
Now it was Tywin's turn to be incredulous. "But… but… surely you do not expect me to take one of those seats… behind you?!"
"No." The princess clarified coolly "Those are reserved for Lord and Lady Fairclough, our gracious hosts."
"But then where will I sit?!"
"You can sit wherever you like, in the noble boxes; just like every other suitor of mine. Please do not take this as a slight, my dear duke. I simply do not wish to cause unnecessary friction or incite a diplomatic incident from perceived favouritism, particularly at such an early stage in our courtship."
"Early?! It's been six months!"
"In the passage of time, yes, but how much of that time have we spent together?"
"Then all the more reason to…"
"But then how would the others react? I can understand that to one as noble and generous as yourself, you would hold no qualms were this seat reserved for one of your rivals. However, as you are aware, not all my suitors can match your shining example of civility and charity. It is a measure of the regard in which I hold you, Sir Tywin, that I refuse to open you or your reputation up to their inevitable pettiness. I respect you too much for that."
The Dukes demeanour shifted throughout Zelda's speech; first came consternation, then confusion, followed swiftly by a swell of pride before settling on disappointed but accepting resignation. Buttering up his ego worked like a charm. "Oh, well, of course naturally I would be as gracious as ever, but I can see your point on some of my fellow suitors…"
"And am I considered among those less civilised and enlightened suitors, your Highness?!" Atherton cut in with cool annoyance.
Zelda's princess veil remained flawless as she turned her unblinking sapphire orbs to fix on him and with a voice of stolid emptiness, replied "That, Sir Atherton, is entirely up to you."
The moustache moved and an eyelid gained a brief but noticeable twitch however the man's lips did not move to reply. Eventually his face settled into a sickly simper, though behind his eyes there remained the shadow of the scowl that festered within. "Very well, My Dear, if you have no wish for my presence at this time, then please accept once again my sincerest apologies for earlier and permit me to excuse myself until such time as you desire my return."
"Of course. You are excused Sir Atherton."
"My Lady… Sir Link…" Atherton bowed reverently and then turned to leave. "Tywin…" he bid his rival farewell with a sneer before sliding smoothly into the neighbouring box to join the rest of the "nobility".
Tywin didn't spare his rival a reply, instead merely shaking his head sardonically. With Atherton gone, he returned his attentions to Zelda. "May I offer sympathies for having to deal with such a distestable man, My Lady."
"Oh, you are most kind."
"Now, I absolutely don't mean to dictate your living or lecture etiquette but, given Sir Link's station, is his seat and yours not too close?"
"No." Zelda answered, polite but sharp.
The Duke, despite his clear desire to debate the matter, recognised her inexorable tone and reluctantly moved on. "Very well, My Lady. I'm sure you know what's best. Now, if you have no need of me, may I bid farewell with the fondest feelings of my heart and know that I will be counting the showers until we next meet…" Counting the hours! Not showers! Goddesses what an idiot. Hang on, he's looking at me. "Oh, ahem, and Sir Link? I trust you to uphold your promise… as a gentleman."
Promise? What promise? Oh yeah, that promise not to touch Zelda without his permission! "Oh, you can count on me to be a gentleman, Sir Tywin. Absolutely!" Unlike you!
Tywin did a double take, sceptical of his response. After a moment probing the hero suspiciously with narrowed unblinking eyes, the duke delivered a wordless bow and slinked away.
There was an undeniable tension as the hero and princess silently watched the duke's descent, his slow gait seeping reluctance with each step, only highlighted further by the occasional glance back at them. What exactly was the man's suspicion? Was it Link's "promise" or something else? Had Tywin heard the fanciful rumours of just how close the hero and the princess were? Had Zelda's choice to reserve the seat for her protector rather than her "favourite" suitor aroused genuine suspicion or perhaps… groundless jealousy. With an ego and blatant controlling streak like Tywin, it wouldn't be surprising for it to be the latter. Jealousy was dangerous enough on its own coming from a man like him but from it, distrust and suspicion could quickly sprout. For all the irritation of his presence, they had managed to remain on good terms so far. Would it remain that way or had he just gained a new enemy?
There was a deep sigh of relief to his right. "Thank the goddesses. I fully expected a debate…" Then came the familiar tingle up his spine as he felt her sapphire blues fixed on him. "… How are you Link? I hope they did not ruin your morning."
"Fine, fine. They were a pain in the arse but not a long one…" He replied offhandedly, only to almost bite his tongue clean off when his brain caught up. Mortified at letting such vulgarity slip in her presence, he desperately attempted an apology, however his words were lost in a fluttering chorus of ill-restrained feminine laughter. Whirling round revealed the Three T's as the, unsurprisingly, the main culprits, however, to his conflicted conscience's dismay – and delight – his princess was hiding her own bout of tittering behind a gloved hand.
"Pardon my language." He mumbled bashfully, only maintaining a face temperature of merely warm rather than raging inferno by glancing away towards the green expanses of the estate and trying to distract himself with spotting every sign of Autumn which peppered the distant treeline. Just focus on the fiery oranges and reds of the leaves and your cheeks will stay cool.
Zelda tutted. "Please Link, there's nothing to pardon. If anything, I wish I could possess such bluntness when addressing them myself. Now, as unnecessary as I'm sure such an introduction is, may I present my Ladies-in-waiting; Terra, Tasmin and Tamara. I believe you are already acquainted." Oh, she knew all too well they were already acquainted. She was just having fun at his expense.
Nevertheless, the three beauties, feigning ignorance, performed the daintiest of curtsies and flashed smiles so "sweet" they could give a man a heart condition. "How do you do, hero." They simpered. Terra, the tallest and most eye-catching with flaming red hair, gave a "friendly" wink.
Link's eyes darted from the Three T's to his princess and back again without thinking and his head spontaneously combusted.
"Ladies, what did you do?" Zelda's tone was disapproving but her smile told a different story
"Nothing, your highness. We can assure you; we were the epitome of respectable femininity and showed Link only the friendliest of courtesies." Tasmin chimed, barely able to keep her voice straight.
"Well, well… Perhaps you can enlighten me sometime as to our great hero's rosy complexion… or perhaps Link could do it…" the princess turned to the red hero with an "evil" gleam in her eye.
Link's gaze shot back to turning leaves as his cheeks surpassed their glow. He scrambled for a response but it was particularly hard to come by. The thing was, she was wrong about his burning cheeks. The Three T's may have provided the initial spark but they weren't responsible for the blaze. They'd simply pointed his mind in the right direction. First had come recollections of their infamous first meeting, where Terra and Tasmin had left their own red marks on his cheeks. That had propelled his thoughts on to the third of the trio, who, while not laying her lips on him, had been generous and passionate in their application to a certain scholar friend – who had decided to stay in the library today in the hopes of recovering enough intellect to string together a full sentence which didn't involve her name.
From there his thoughts had inevitably spiralled into the dreams that event had inspired, involving a different pair of lips and enough steam to melt Snowpeak. He definitely couldn't ever reveal that to her but she was still waiting for an answer… and he didn't have one – at least not a satisfactory one. Oh well, desperate times etc. etc. He finally turned back to her and, cheeks still hot enough for cooking, announced his frankly inane reply with a stiff cough. "Ahem, er, Tasmin's right, your highness. Our acquaintance was perfectly, um… civil. Now, speaking of which, I'm sure it'd be for more civilised for us to sit. hahaha."
Without waiting for a reply, he promptly darted for his chair, so desperate for a change of subject that its scandalous proximity to her throne barely crossed his mind. He sank into the generous upholstery as he mentally berated himself for his blatant awkwardness, thanks to which Zelda was now eyeing him with suspicion or concern. It was hard to tell given his own refusal to glance her way.
He could still feel her questioning gaze as she elegantly reclined into the throne next to him. Just relax, play it cool and hope she drops her inquisition.
"Ahem. Link, not that I object to the closeness of your company but perhaps sharing arms is a bit much."
What?! Princess, what do you… Shit! Wrong arm rest!
"Gah!" Yelping like a stabbed cat, Link wrenched his hand back as if scolded. Zelda's probing gaze instantly magnified and it was quickly enhanced by those of her three friends; peering at him with a mixture of bemusement and worry. Luckily the crowd was too preoccupied with their own gossip to notice. Either that or Zelda had her keepsake on hand.
"Sorry about that…" he mumbled
"Link… what is wrong?"
"Nothing princess, I'm fine, I'm f…"
"Link… what's wrong?"
He squirmed. She only dropped words when she truly meant business. It was clear she wouldn't drop it until he provided some explanation. Of course, he couldn't admit the truth but if he was to have any chance of convincing her, it'd have to pretty close to it – just like her hand and his… don't recoil again! It'll only make things worse.
"Well, ahem, it's just that… Well, princess, you see… the thing is… Are you sure we should be sitting together like this?"
Zelda frowned but before she could chastise him Tasmin chimed in, with an impish gleam and a Cheshire smile. "Come now, Sir Link, why so shy with her highness?... Unless…" She gasped dramatically "… those rumours are true…" Link's face was conflicted. Did this situation warrant burning like the Gerudo desert or turning as white as Snowpeak? "Are you intimidated by her?"
Huh? That wasn't what he expected "What?! er, no."
"Really? Well, did you know there are only two reasons men are shy of ladies. Either they're intimidated…" Link's heart was back in his mouth again. "ooorrr…" Could he get any redder?
Fortunately, he didn't have to find out as the proper princess stepped in to rescue her floundering hero. "Please Tasmin! Do not tease Link with such fallacious piffle. You're so much better than that."
"But your highness…" Tasmin whined, pouting like a spoilt child "… how can you say that?!" The pout quickly dissolved into impish deviousness. "Besides, look at his face. He's clearly enjoying it."
"And you will be soon be enjoying the company of Lord Melchett If you continue."
"OOOOHHHH! The horror! The horror!" The blonde beauty collapsed dramatically back into her seat, hand pressed to her forehead in mock horror. She held her pose with theatrical aplomb for a few seconds as she eyed their reactions. Then in a flash, she bounced back up again, playful demeanour bursting forth once more. "Awww, you don't play fair. Very well, your highness, I'll stop… for now."
Zelda shook her head, restraining a wry smile. "I would expect nothing less, Tasmin. Now, ladies, if you will all please excuse me. I wish to discuss matters with Link privately."
"Oh but of course, your highness." The three sisters all nodded and immediately turned to gossip among themselves.
Link was grateful to finally be back in the discussion rather than being the topic of discussion. He was thankful to Tasmin for one thing though. Her dramatic display had provided valuable seconds' distraction to compose himself, extinguish his face and most importantly bury his dirty dreams. However, as the princess rounded on him, her veil cracked by another disapproving frown, he wondered whether that had been a miscalculation. Perhaps she'd have gone easier on him when he looked like a tomato?
Zelda sighed "Link… must we have this conversation every time we sit together?..." It wasn't every time! Nevertheless, now probably wasn't the best moment to be pedantic. "We went through this yesterday in the carriage. Vanhorn will not be able to stir trouble over this. In fact, this might just work to strengthen our position."
"Um, I haven't forgotten about Vanhorn but it wasn't actually him I was worrying about."
"Then what is the matter?"
Link rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. Last night's fantasies may have been out of the picture but he doubted she'd like his other answer much better. Fortunately, as he reluctantly opened his mouth to reply a possible saviour arrived in the form of a new distraction. There was the mighty crash of a gong and the hum of the crowd died. Glancing down from their high box, Link immediately spied Lord Fairclough ascending a small wooden podium. It looked like a speech was on the cards and, it turned out, he was right. Talk about perfect timing…
or so he thought.
Despite his focus on Fairclough's welcome speech - which, for all the man's wit, proved an inescapably tedious affair - he couldn't mistake the sensation of Zelda's eyes first flicking in his direction and soon after, giving up any pretence of looking anywhere else. "Well?" She snapped.
"Pardon?"
"I asked you what the matter was?"
"Here? Now? But what about Lord Fairclough's speech?"
"A simple formality, virtually indistinguishable from a hundred others. Even Samuel knows this speech is more for the benefit of the crowd, who are virginal to the tiresome repetition of a noble's obligatory welcome speech. It has long since passed the point where we would be expected to listen…" she pointed to a finger to the sky, directing him to listen. He immediately picked up many hushed voices, all emanating from the surrounding noble boxes. "Now, if propriety allowed Samuel to express his formidable humour, I would hang on every word but, as that is not the case and our host would not by slighted by our disinterest, I see no reason to suffer such tedium, especially when I have a question to which I greatly desire an answer."
She may desire it but he didn't desire giving it. There was however something else that appeared to have snuck past her otherwise indisputable logic, and as protector of her reputation as well as her life, it was his duty to point it out. "But what if someone else saw us talking? Would they not consider it rude?"
"Link, we have curtains to protect us from prying noble eyes and a little keepsake to keep our words from their ears."
"The nobles yes, but what about the crowd or the servants? What would they think if they saw us talking in the middle of Fairclough's speech?"
"An unlikely scenario but if you are so concerned just turn your eyes to him and I will do the same. We do not need them to talk."
He knew he couldn't win. Begrudgingly, he followed her instructions and together they turned their gazes back to the podium. Not looking at each other, however, only served to exacerbate the growing tension between them. The threat of an uncomfortable silence loomed over them.
Zelda decided to nip that threat in the bud. "Sooo?" Frustration and irritation dripped from the lone syllable like blood from a fine graze.
"Ahem, well you see it wasn't Vanhorn I was thinking of but… your suitors… how they'll react."
His prediction was correct. A second's sideways glance revealed her distaste as her pristine porcelain nose wrinkled and she released a most un-ladylike snort. "I do not care for their reactions and neither should you!" she snapped hotly. The fire rapidly waned and she was suddenly rueful. "Sorry… you did not deserve that… especially after what I imagine they put you through."
The apology was unnecessary. It was hard enough to be anger at her even without the realisation that Atherton and Tywin had clearly dug even deeper under her skin than he'd thought. "It's alright. After half an hour in their company, I can hardly blame you."
Zelda gave a rueful chuckle "… care to share your suffering, my battle-weary hero?"
Link returned her chuckle with one of his own but was hesitant. How much should he divulge? He wanted to cheer her up after all, not have her descend into further bitterness. "Hmhmhm… Well, the main battle was simply keeping my patience. The actual engagement's scarcely worthy of retelling."
"Indulge me."
"If you insist princess but there's not much to tell. Basically, I was just minding my business, prepping Guy, when Tywin burst in, obnoxiously friendly and offering his "help" Then Atherton arrived, insulted him and offered me his "help" and "friendship" too. They got into an argument and I ordered them outside. Then Sir Azrid Colbert joined the party and with much more arguing and "friendliness" along the way, our little clown troupe came here. Basil met us to deliver your summons and Colbert left, for whatever reason I don't know. The rest you know."
Zelda sighed. "I'm sorry I didn't warn you about them."
"What? That they'd mob me?"
He sensed her silent nod.
"Don't apologise. After what you told me before, I should have seen it coming."
"Link, I may have given you some cold dry lectures about the court but…"
He shot her a sly sideways smirk and replied in mock indignation. "Cold and dry?! You do yourself a disservice princess. They were anything but!"
He was rewarded with the ghost of a smile. "You're too kind, but…"
Time for the punchline. "They were like a warm drizzle."
"You…" There was a pregnant pause and even as he continued to watch Lord Fairclough's speech, he could sense Zelda's own sly sideways glance as her brow quirked and her pursed lips curling into a crooked smile. "… You truly flatter me, hero… Ahem, now, is there anything about the suitors and their little games which still mystify you or shall I assume, from now on that my "warm drizzle" has rendered you as enlightened as I?"
"Oh, I wouldn't say that princess. I'm sure I'll always be asking questions…" Indeed, there was one thing…
"And the one on the tip of your tongue is…?" Damn! How did she know?! She wasn't even looking at him. He returned her earlier sideways glance and couldn't miss the faint taint of smugness on her otherwise prim visage.
He swallowed his "prideful" urge to dislodge her smugness with another jibe and instead embraced the opportunity to learn. "Um, ok… well, I'm guessing you know what their "help" and "friendship" really meant."
Zelda's reply was briefly postponed by the end of Lord Fairclough's speech, at which they joined the crowd's polite applause. Then, as the applause died down to be replaced by the buzz of the crowd and the preparations for the opening race, she turned to him and bluntly answered. "Bribery…" She seemed entirely unperturbed, stating it so casually one would think she were discussing the weather.
He knew that she was likely well acquainted with such acts, but he still found her nonchalance to the topic slightly disconcerting. "Er, yeah. The thing is, Atherton's "friendship" was such a blatant act that I can't understand how he could possibly believe anyone would buy it. It was like that was deliberate but I can't fathom why?"
"Ah, because the pretence wasn't there for you. Indeed, I imagine he'd be most piqued if you had genuinely believed it."
"Huh?"
"Link, I may see you as every bit my equal but, even with your promotion, many nobles will not. Many do not recognise or accept your new title as anything more than token position."
His perceptive princess may have tried to soften the blow – a blow he should have seen coming – but the reminder of his less-than-esteemed beginnings still left a sour taste in his mouth. "So it's because I'm… low born?" he muttered.
There was another pause. Zelda seemed reticent. She clicked her tongue. "… it is a little more complicated than just that but essentially; yes, it is because of your birth. Anyway, the last thing a prideful, conservative noble from an esteemed bloodline like the Herkles would want is for an unsanctioned social upstart like yourself to get delusions of grandeur; that you and he could be considered genuine friends."
"Then who was the act for? Why even bother with it if he was gonna make it so insultingly transparent?"
"Why? For the same audience and purpose as every act the nobles play, of course: to protect their reputation among their peers."
"But how does this…"
"Link, do you remember what I told you about the court's views on bribery."
He vaguely recalled. "Er, something like "a bribe is only a bribe when openly stated as such"?"
"Precisely."
Suddenly the pieces started to fall into place. "Wait, hold up. So, you're saying the only reason he even bothered with the act was so other nobles couldn't call him out. But surely if the act is so blatant then…"
"Oh no, the key factor is bothering with a pretence at all. See, the nobility is hypocrisy incarnate. They proudly proclaim and display themselves the paragons of virtue and morality in public; meaning such sins as blackmail and bribery, no matter how small, must be condemned, loudly and adamantly. However, such sins are an inextricable part of the court's political system, and the primary force driving the ever-shifting power balance between the various noble houses. As such, it is in the nobility's best interests to turn a blind eye and thus, even the flimsiest of "alibis" are accepted. They may well recognise it for what it is but to point it out… " The princess shook her head and tutted in an almost comically fashion. "… that would be the absolute height of impropriety, tut tut, a most shameful faux pas indeed."
Despite all she had told him previously and all his prior experiences, he still found this revelation difficult to swallow, especially when delivered with such flippancy. "Zelda, how can you joke about this?! I mean, you're basically saying the whole system is corrupt!"
"Hmmm, I certainly would not say the whole system, but I will not deny the rot. However… it is far more civil than the alternatives." The abrupt switch in tone from breezy to dark told him not to dig any deeper into that particular barrel of vipers. It may not have felt like it so far but this whole "adventure" was supposed to be a vacation, a chance for both of them to relax. The last thing either of them needed was another mess to ruminate on, so he dropped his inquiry in favour of a related but far more personal one.
"Well, it didn't feel very civil to me…" He drawled, squeezing as much wry humour from the words as possible, to make sure she took it as witticism rather than criticism. "… Atherton's "Friendship" was about as civil as a rash on my arse. I mean, how can a man behave so two-faced and patronising towards anyone and expect them to actually accept his bribes?!"
"A man who believes that everyone has a price."
"Well, I don't."
"That, I know Dear Hero. That, I know and admire. it is why I chose you as my shield, after all…" She gave a brief peek behind her princess veil with a warmer than normal smile. Then suddenly her eyes widened, aghast at some abrupt realisation "Not that that was the only reason I chose you, Link." She added hastily, her rouge painted cheeks darkening almost imperceptibly – at least to most people. Unfortunately, Link knew his sharp sight was a flimsy alibi when in truth he was simply inappropriately observant of her highness's countenance in all its delicate and subtle shades. His shades were rather less subtle, not helped by his lack of reply. Wordlessly, they exchanged blushes and floundered in awkward inaction.
Fortunately – or rather, unfortunately – a saviour had witnessed their plight and generously leapt to the rescue. "Oh no, there were soooo many more reasons, right Zelly?" Tasmin purred over Zelda's shoulder, dark brown peepers gleaming with "evil" intent.
Link's cheeks may have been a perpetual fire hazard but, while capable of warmth, he'd always assumed his perfect princess's countenance to be practically inflammable. Her response to her friend's blatant tease, however, proved him wrong. Zelda whirled round. "Tasmin, ahem, I do not believe I invited you to join our conversation. Quite the opposite in fact."
"Maybe… but to me it seemed you were struggling for words and as you ladies-in-waiting we couldn't stand by and watch you suffer."
"I wasn't suffering! Link, were you suffering?"
"Oh, um, no, Princess."
Zelda demonstrated her mastery in composure and fire control, reinstating her proper princess veil with practiced efficiency as she clipped "… And, even if we had been suffering, the only way you could have known was by eavesdropping."
"Eavesdropping!?" Tasmin gasped "I can assure you, your highness, our conduct has been nothing but respectable."
"We've kept ourselves to ourselves" Chimed in Tamara.
"… For the most part" added Terra with a wry smile.
"Besides…" Tasmin cocked her head, displaying her pristine noble teeth with a triumphant grin "We had orders from a higher authority to keep an eye on you. It's for your own good, your highness." Higher authority?! What higher authority could there be other than the goddesses themselves? Surely, they wouldn't interfere like this and surely Zelda wouldn't buy it.
To his great surprise, the princess released a defeated groan. "Agghhh, let me guess. Your father put you up to this."
Terra took over from her sister, with an air of mature sternness. "Of course. Zelda, we all know how overworked you are and daddy made us promise. Frankly though, he didn't need to. This is a vacation and will be three strings short of a fiddle as your Ladies-In-Waiting if we let you squander it."
"Squander!? I was simply having a pleasant conversation with my Royal Shield."
Terra quirked a fiery red eyebrow. "Ah yes, from what I caught, you were discussing your most hated suitor. Hardly the most pleasant of topics, especially when this is supposed to be your escape from all that, your highness." Link had watched their dynamics unfold and arrived at an inescapable conclusion. Just as Lord Fairclough acted as Zelda's unadmitted surrogate father, his three daughters could be considered her surrogate sisters – though she probably got on better with them than any blood siblings.
Zelda may have resigned herself the inevitable and undeniably well-meaning interference from her surrogate family but she clearly wasn't about to surrender without at least explaining herself. "Firstly…" She wagged white clad finger "Sir Link was the one responsible for bringing up Atherton because he suffered the grave misfortune of making the man's acquaintance this morning and had questions…"
"In that case, you have my sympathy, Sir Link." Terra gave the "Beleaguered" hero a compassionate nod, which he returned with a bashful smile.
"And secondly…" Zelda Continued "as appealing a sentiment as escaping the court is, it is rather difficult when the court insists in chasing you. Indeed, I have no doubt that, as soon as I leave the royal box I will be mobbed by every one of my suitors, with the possible exception of Sir Colbert."
"All the more reason to take these moments of respite where you can." Terra countered.
"Hm, on the contrary. I intend to do much more than that. Link, would you still be interested in exploring the estate grounds?"
"Yes, your highness." Particularly if it's in your company, Zelda.
"Well then, we'll just have to get rid of them." Zelda's princess veil was split by a devious smirk. Link's heart jumped. Why did that expression inspire equal trepidation and "admiration"? he averted his gaze.
"Ah, I do love a good scheme." Chimed Tasmin gleefully.
Zelda's eyes were still on the nervous hero. "Well, Link? Are you in?"
"Um, it depends. What did you have in mind?" He mumbled cautiously.
"Oh, nothing scandalous… how do you feel about a little… race?"
What are you up to, Zelda?