Chapter Seventeen

Even after six months, he had not gotten accustomed to the new attire.

There was something about the stiffness and awkwardness of shoulder pads that didn't appeal to him, as well as the the overindulgence of intricate designs on his long doublet coat. Even the belt around his waist seemed too lavish for him even still, and his dark orchid pants were not quite fitted right on him, the shine of his black, knee-high boots seeming rather distracting as well.

And to his own amusement, the thick smell of cologne emitting from his body was beginning to stifle him.

His hair was combed properly, his bangs continuing to fall in front of his face, while the back of his hair was tied back neatly. To his dismay, the maidens had made it a ritual to powder his face every morning, finding some excuse just to compliment him on his eyes.

Yet, this day, his appearance seemed especially important, as he stood before the king at his throne timidly, a very pregnant Zelda standing beside his highness.

He had bowed, respectably, before the royal family, kneeling primly, with a gentle acceleration to the rhythm of his heart beat. The boy dared not look up, almost tempted to completely close his eyes, a heave to his breath now.

Why was it so silent? He felt that he was breathing to loudly, her nervousness too noticeable. He gulped then, yet instantaneously regretting the action, a paranoia succumbing him. Could they hear his every miniature noise? Was that why this process was being delayed so?

Subtly, he then heard the slash of a sword being drawn, and with a deep, concentrated breath, he forced his eyes upwards, a glitter in his pupil, as he witnessed the king rise from his chair, holding the blade prominently in his right hand, bringing it down towards the boy's head.

"Young man," began his majesty languidly, halting the rapier before it touched golden blonde hair."

There was an uncanny stillness for a moment, as the king stood there with a timidness consuming him. Yet, with a shift of his brow and a intense shrug of his shoulders, he began once more.

"Prince Link."

At his address, the boy plummeted his eyes downwards once more, a solemn expression overcoming his visage.

Harkinian's voice had then become fuller, huskier, letting the edge of the blade rest against Link's hair, a sudden firmness in his grip. And gingerly, he then traced the blade atop of the boy's head, creating the shape of a triangle.

"On behalf of Hyrule, by the grace of the three sacred goddesses Din, Nayru, and Farore, I the King, in the name of the Triforce, hereby knight thee. Arise, Sir Link."

With wobbly legs from his over-excitement, Link tried as hard as he could to contain himself as he stood, bowing before the king who had knighted him. A bashful smile had claimed his lips as he excepted the rapier from the man of authority's hand, glaring at the glistening blade as if it were adorned in diamond.

"With deepest thanks, your majesty."

Harkinian, however, chuckled, carefully sitting back onto his throne, a pleasant grin on his lips.

"I have been waiting to do that since you were a little hellion running around my daughter's garden." At the mention of her name, both men looked at the short, round-bellied girl leaning against the king's massive seat.

And Link's eyes locked on her.

Perhaps his gaze was rude and improper, yet the freshly knighted prince could not contain himself, as his grasp on the hilt of the sword suddenly became very weak, forcing him to rest his arm from the heaviness of it.

Zelda looked at him as well, rather intently, a neutral expression claiming her visage. Of course, though, emotions blazed within the pupil and irises of her eyes, her dark pink lips slightly pouting.

Her stomach was growing increasingly larger, as she neared the closure of her seventh month being with child. Because of this, the young princess would no longer wear corsets until the child was born, and thus her dresses were less lavish around the area of her abdomen.

She was, however, still the loveliest creature in all of Hyrule, it seemed, with a glow about her that melted his heart and burned his throat.

That beautiful creature was his wife.

The princess had lost the duel between them six months ago, handing the young man his freedom. And he had taken that freedom, seeing the same requited, passionate love she shared for him equal to his for her, and asked her to marry him.

It was not a choice of convenience, guilt, or duty. It was a decision based on love.

And thus, he had become a Prince Consort.

And the now recovered king had just knighted him.

Getting adjusted to castle life was not an easy transition for the young boy. The first few weeks were horrid and he could not see why so many individuals dreamed and longed for a life within the monarchy. He felt like a living, breathing handsome doll at times, and still this heavy cologne was choking him.

The clothes were handsome, but uncomfortable. And proper mannerisms and propriety were not a simple art to master. Since the wedding of the young couple, Impa had been watching him closely, teaching him the ways of the castle, how to be a prince, a gentleman.

The king, however, was not as strict as the princess's Lady, and that alone seemed to ease Link a bit. And the princess...goddesses, he grew more and more in awe of her with each passing hour.

And that was when he noticed the slight, upwards curve to her lip.

Leisurely, she went to the tall, lean young man, her gaze upwards towards his face. And with her stare never leaving his, she curtseyed respectably.

"My lord, your majesty."

There was something rather taunting to her discord, in a seemingly playful teasing manner, and before she walked away and out of the king her father's throne room, she daintily stood on the tips of her toes, pressing her mouth against his ear.

"I do pray you come visit my bed chambers tonight."

Lifting both his brows, a blush overcame his cheeks.