I could not help but wonder, as I sat on my old bed and stared at the bolted doors, how Ganondorf would force me to comply. I had become accustomed to eating very little while on the run, so starving me might not be as effective as he had hoped. I sighed, feeling my hip bones, which had sharpened and become more prominent with my hunger. Worry clouded my thoughts; had Link been killed? Perhaps that was how Ganondorf would crowd me into compliance; keeping me locked away from contact with anyone who could tell me what had happened to my champion. I sighed and pulled back the bed covers, climbing between the cool and familiar sheets. Ganondorf could not torture me if my mind was not awake to his barbs. And I had to shamefully admit to myself that I missed having a bed. But I missed having a warm body next to my own more. If I had known, I would have told him sooner. I sighed in despair, hugging a pillow to my chest, and finally let myself sink into a worried sleep.

I woke up at the soft click of a door latching shut. I sat up straight, looking around with narrowed eyes. The only difference was a flat table, upon which was a tray of breakfast foods; a sad lump of oatmeal, a chipped cup of coffee, and some tarnished utensils. I picked at the food at first. The oatmeal was surprisingly sweet, with some sort of secret spicyness to it, and the coffee was bitter and hot. Alas, there was no sugar to sweeten that. I ate and drank all the same, though my stomach didn't permit much of the food. I waited after I'd finished, wondering when I would feel the first ill effects of the poison he'd surely put in my food. Nothing, except for a slight tingle across my chest. I licked my lips, studying the dishes, as if they would reveal their secret to me. My suspicion slunk away to a corner of my mind. I would mull it over later. The door unlatched and opened an hour or so after I finished eating, picking up the tray in his armored hands. I watched him with a glare; he glanced at me for a few minutes, but did not speak, his eye shield lowered. They might not even be humans inside their tin; just husks, ghosts of people cursed to do Ganondorf's bidding.

I sat up and wrapped my arms around myself, wondering if I would go mad from boredom before the false king had a chance to break my will. I sat there for a few hours more, from what I could judge, looking around my old room with a sigh, trying to place where items would've been. A bookcase in the corner, a desk in the opposite, with a chair, and a large mirror, a wardrobe on that wall… I jumped out of bed and looked at the hardwood floor. Battered as it was, it was still sure under my feet. I paced carefully, counting the boards, rapping each one with my big toe until I heard a soft, hollow noise. I kneeled and pried up the board, ripping part of a nail off. Inside was my old diary, along with an ancient pen and inkwell that I'd inherited from my grandmother. I laughed with a crazed sort of joy; pulling the dusty book out. The ink was still good, and I tested the pen against a fresh, blank page. Hurriedly, I began to scribble a living will.

I jerked upright from where I'd been brooding on the bed when the door opened again. I finished my will, and tucked my diary away in the floorboards a few hours ago, thankfully. A knight was directing a tailor inside. The man looked terrified of everything, including his own shadow. He had a fresh wound atop of his skull, with some blood still leaking from it. I stood and stepped back, watching him with guarded eyes. "Forgive me, your majesty. He has asked me to take your measurements for… a dress." He didn't need to use names; I knew exactly who would ask. "If it will spare you, sir, I willingly volunteer." The tailor had tears in his eyes as he kissed my left hand, whispering over and over, "Thank you, your majesty, thank you." I held my chin high and retained a sense of dignity as he jotted little numbers on a pad, measuring my hips, my bust, my arms, height, everything. The tailor kissed my hands again on his way out the door, and I felt tears in my eyes for him. If he survived this, I would appoint him to my court.

Hours passed, and I grew bored. A knight brought me food and gestured for me to eat. I studied him distrustfully, but ate half of the food. Again, I noticed little but a faint heat in flavor. Boredom made my head throb, and I glared at the ceiling, thinking again of my champion, my beloved. A flush raised in my face as I thought of how tenderly he handled my body. It made me smile, to know that for a brief time, I was the one in control of him. For a few hours, I was the wolfcharmer. I drew a deep breath with a shudder, closing my eyes and stretching out on the bed. With a jiggle of the handle, though, I quickly sat up, my ardour cooling. A knight stepped in, presumably to take away my dinner tray. He picked it up and stopped, looking at me. For a moment, I could feel a muffled silence of being hunted. I tensed and glowered at the knight. "Tell your lord and master that I shall die from boredom if I am not permitted books of some sort, or something to pass the time in this miserable room." The guard did not reply, and left again. I huffed and waited until he had locked the doors, giving them a gentle tug to test. Latched tight. Seemed like it was one of the few things Ganondorf had sought to improve.