This is a short chapter, which is why I'm updating so early! I'm still trying to stick to my weekly update schedule.
The Royal Castle of Hyrule, once a gleaming beacon of the old monarchy, had been thoroughly desecrated by twenty years under his rule, Ganondorf noted sadistically, observing with satisfaction the black marble that had replaced the castle's originally white limestone exterior, the red pennants that fluttered from atop the battlements, and the corpses of his enemies skewered on pikes to serve as a warning to those who would oppose his rule.
He had done his best to erase every last vestige of the Royal Family, for he knew that only a legitimate heir would be able to unite the downtrodden and oppressed Hylian citizenry against him. For twenty years, he had kept watchful vigilance for any sign of a possible Royal in hiding: his Gerudo assassins had quickly and efficiently disposed of any possible threat.
Yet, one thing still bothered him, still haunted his dreams and lingered in the back of his mind like a mean spirit. The one thing that posed the most danger to his authority as King of Hyrule.
"Where is the Princess?" he growled, pounding his gilded throne in anger. "Where can that little wench be hiding?"
His two sorceress advisors, the witches Koume and Kotake, stood by nervously, their diminutive figures clearly shaking at his wrath. Even in his anger, Ganondorf took pride in the fear he inspired in even his closest allies – that same fear was what kept the petty Hylian nobles in line, and what solidified his rule over the people.
"My king," Koume spoke, delicately playing with the bejeweled ruby necklace that hung from her neck. "It has been many long years… surely, if the Princess was still alive, she would have surfaced by now?"
"Your servants have always been vigilant," Kotake added quickly. "If she was still alive – which she isn't – she would be cut down before she could pose any threat to your power."
"Do not take me for a fool!" Ganondorf thundered, and both witches quivered and squawked in fear. "My soldiers have become lazy, sloppy brutes. They can terrorize defenseless peasants, but they would not hold against an organized enemy."
"But your Gerudo," Koume protested. "Aveil has kept a sharp watch for any dissenters."
"This is true," Ganondorf admitted, "and yet there are too few Gerudo to keep a close watch over all of Hyrule."
"My king, you are overestimating the Princess' power," Kotake said. "Even if she still lives – what can she do? She cannot prove her claim to the throne. Do you think one person could unite the people of Hyrule?"
"If they are desperate enough, yes," Ganondorf muttered, staring out of his throne room window, looking down upon the lands under his dominion. The lands where even now, the Princess-in-hiding might be plotting his downfall. It was a slim chance that she would succeed, of course, but Ganondorf would take no chances. He would not let a coup topple him, like how he had overthrown King Harkinian.
No, thought Ganondorf savagely. I will hunt down the Princess, and eliminate the last blemish that the Royal Family has left on this land.
"My king?" Koume asked timidly, interrupting his thoughts.
"I need to cement my rule," Ganondorf stated coldly, not even bothering to turn around. "I must know which nobles are loyal to me, or at least too scared to even think of rebellion."
"That is wise, my king," Kotake simpered, obviously relieved that his murderous temper had abated somewhat. "The nobles, those crafty, power hungry Hylians – they pose more of a threat to your power than the lost Princess."
"The nobles are too embroiled in their own petty affairs to ever unite against me," Ganondorf scoffed, "but nevertheless, I must have their fealty if I wish to secure power."
"How will you do that, milord?"
Ganondorf smiled, his baleful red eyes burning with malice. "By rooting out anyone in the aristocracy that had ties with the Royal Family."
"My king," Koume protested, "that would be nearly all of the nobility…"
"My point exactly," Ganondorf said, breathing heavily. "The old nobles are the remnant of the deposed monarchy. I need new, younger nobles, easily manipulated and swayed to my interests." He paused, before adding, "I'm sure the sons of the aristocracy would not object if I was to grant them greater power by… removing their fathers."
Both of his sorceresses flinched at his words. Spineless witches. "Some… perhaps many… would object," Kotake mumbled timidly.
"Then we kill them out too," Ganondorf declared dispassionately. "Eventually, they will be cowed into their place, and I will have an aristocracy comprised solely of nobles that cater to my power."
The two witches shared a sidelong glance with each other, before bowing to his authority. "As you command, Lord Ganondorf," both of them uttered in unison.
"Get to work," Ganondorf dismissed them. "I expect to have a full list tomorrow."
As the two witches scurried out of his throne room, Ganondorf smiled tightly to himself, gripping the hilt of his sword, already imagining the blood that would soon run down his hungry blade.
"It has been too long since I have used you," Ganondorf whispered evilly to his jagged, black weapon. "But soon… you will bite deep into foe's flesh once more."
Zelda sighed, laying her pen down to rest and rubbing her eyes tiredly. The candle on her desk had burned low, signifying the lateness of the hour, and she watched in a semi-trance as the melted wax dripped down the candle's side.
How long had she been writing? At least for several hours, after dinner, and now it was probably past midnight. Her hand was sore, and she gently massaged her wrist before addressing the last letter in black ink.
"That should do it," she murmured exhaustedly, reclining in her seat and gazing with relief at the miniature mountain of letters that were stacked atop her desk. The hour was late – she would send them tomorrow. Now, she needed some rest, especially if she was to see to the preparations for Link's celebration gala.
As her mind wandered onto the subject of her benefactor's son, she couldn't help but suppress a small twinge of curiosity. What would Link be like, after seven years? Surely not the innocent, laughing boy she had known from her childhood. No, he would be hardened after nearly a decade of knightly training. Gruff, aloof, stern, perhaps like his father? Would he even remember who she was?
To her surprise, Zelda found a small part of herself yearning for Link's return. Although she lived well, life in the manor could be awfully dull, with no one her age to interact with. For a brief minute, she envisaged herself enjoying a picnic with Link as they did when they were children, or perhaps going out for a brisk horseback ride in the rolling fields of Hyrule. She closed her eyes, and smiled softly as she imagined the companionship of someone to whom she could relate with.
Then, reality stepped in, and Zelda was forced to face the awful truth. Link was a knight now, a stern and disciplined warrior – he would have no time to indulge in her childish fantasies, assuming he even remembered her. Well, of course he would remember her – Zelda didn't think he was that forgetful – but perhaps he would choose to disassociate himself from her. After all, he was her benefactor's son, and any relationship – especially a close friendship – could potentially be awkward.
She sighed, and decided to push such thoughts out of her head. They could wait at least five more days, when Link returned to the Hylia estate. For now, all she desired was the comfort and warmth of her bed, which beckoned to her enticingly.
Throwing one last look at her stack of letters, she blew out the sputtering candle and climbed into bed, not even bothering to change into more comfortable clothing.
Over the next five days, the manor was a hive of activity. News of Link's impending arrival had sent everyone into a flurry, and preparations for the estate had to be thoroughly and efficiently supervised by Zelda, who found the entire management process both enjoyable and exhausting.
In compliance with Aleron's desires, she had enlisted an entire orchestra to perform during the ball, as well as temporarily hiring nearly a hundred poverty stricken citizens to act as servants during the gala. The celebration would be a huge affair, and everyone in the manor was kept busy – Impa and the other servants slaved night and day in the kitchen baking cakes, pastries, and preparing hundreds of courses. Maids brandishing feather dusters scoured every dusty inch of the manor, and poor Dampe, as the only groundskeeper on the estate, was forced to renovate the grounds on his own.
In addition to the hectic preparations, Zelda had to deal with hundreds of returning letters from the nobility that Aleron had sent invitations to. Although she privately doubted Aleron knew even a quarter of the respondents, it was traditional in the Hylian aristocracy to invite any and all nobles to any social function. As Aleron once explained to her, it meant that no one would have any hurt feelings by being excluded from a gala, and it was the "polite" thing to do, according to aristocratic custom. Zelda shook her head. Political intrigue was something she would never understand.
Regardless, after the first three days, she had received replies from the majority of the invitees, and it looked like nearly five hundred or so members of the Hylian nobility would be attending, only adding to the level of stress Zelda was experiencing in attempting to manage the entire affair. She had the estate stables completely cleaned out, and even had to construct temporary extensions to the structure in order to accommodate the horses that would inevitably accompany the hundreds of nobles.
"How are things going?" Aleron asked one afternoon, as Zelda was overseeing a group of laborers attempting to set up a large tent on the estate grounds.
"Perfectly fine," she replied through gritted teeth, as one of the laborers lost his footing and tripped, sending the entire structure toppling inwards.
"Lovely," Aleron said, continuing on his way, while Zelda restrained the urge to scream in a most unladylike manner.
At times, when Zelda was not completely consumed by her work, she realized that a slightly guilty feeling was constantly nagging in the back of her mind. She couldn't help but think that all the extravagance that Aleron wanted for the gala could be better used elsewhere. She watched uneasily as crate loads of food arrived at the manor daily, fully aware that outside of the estate's boundaries, thousands of citizens in Castle Town were starving.
"That's the nobility for you," Impa had said one day, when Zelda confessed her feelings. "They don't tend to care much about the common people, you see? Even Aleron – well, he is a kind man, Goddesses bless his soul – but he's still a noble. And the aristocracy isn't really in touch with the average Hylian, and vice-versa, I suppose."
"Yes, but… can't Aleron do anything about it?" Zelda had asked pleadingly.
Impa had only shrugged, continuing with her work. "I suppose he could, but you have to keep in mind that the other nobles, and especially the king, wouldn't look too favorably on his actions. They don't want the people of Hyrule uniting under one noble. They want to keep things the way they are now."
Zelda had only cried out in despair. Impa patted her hand sympathetically.
"There now, Zelda, you've done nothing wrong. Things will get better. The Goddesses protect."
Despite Impa's words, Zelda couldn't help but shake off the lingering feeling of guilt that accompanied her whenever she entered the Castle Town market to buy food and supplies. The sight of so many poor and oppressed citizens tore at her soul, and she did whatever she could to help, giving beggars extra rupees, handing out bread to pleading families. It still wasn't enough. And Zelda knew that she was making little difference in the overall lives of the peasantry. If only there was some way she could help the people – really help them, not just by giving out rations of food or handfuls of rupees.
Zelda sighed, her heart breaking each time she saw the impoverished state of Hyrule and its citizens. If only I was queen, she thought, I could do so much to help…
