Henko's nose itches.

He kept his gaze locked straight ahead, trying to ignore it. He fixed his eyes on the little T-shape on the opposite wall, where three bricks met. It was in a perfect line from where he stood.

Back straight, chin raised, eyes locked. Henko knew it all well, he had done it for years. He unfocused his vision slightly. It made it easier to keep his eyes in one spot. He listened to the rumbling sound of his majesty's low voice, letting the tones flow through his mind. He didn't pick out the words, just let them rattle through his mind.

Still, his nose itched.

Henko's brow twitched just a smidge – imperceptible except to him – almost as if he was about to scrounge up his face to try to get the itch from his nose. Of course, Henko would never do such a thing. Never! He was of the Hyrule Royal guard, a servant to the king, blessed by the Golden Goddesses themselves. An itchy nose was nothing to him.

Another twitch.

Henko's conviction was quickly dwindling. Perhaps he was not as steadfast as he thought. He gathered his resolve, summoning every bit of form he could muster – everything he had ever learned. He forced his back to, somehow, be even straighter, his eyes even more intently focused on that vague distance.

For a moment the irritation withdrew, leaving his nostrils and mind clear. But just as quickly the itch had redoubled its charge. He almost sneezed right then and there. Had it not been for the sudden change in the king's voice, it would all have been over for Henko.

From the left corner of his eye, Henko saw the king approach, walking down the middle of the oblong hall. The king crossed his vision, then passed down the other half of the room, exiting through the grand wooden doors.

Henko heard the slight shuffling of cloth from his left, then the scrape of a chair. A moment later the princess, Zelda, walked past him, layered skirts billowing as she followed her father. But, instead of exiting the room as he had, the princess turned – heavy cloth lifting from the floor as she spun – and began pacing back the way she had come.

There was something amusing in the way she moved. A sort of bounce. Not quite a skip, more sharp, more … angry.

Henko bit his tongue as the princess bobbed past him once more. Not a hit of emotion, he thought to himself, repeating the words his superiors had drilled into him. Not a twitch of an eye, not a jerk of the lip. Nothing!

But for just a second – a dangerous, treacherous second – Henko let his eyes slip from their spot to look at the princess properly. A sweep of pink dress and yellow hair, a stern expression on a face otherwise so soft. He quickly forced his eyes back to their spot on the wall, his own face inexpressive as ever.

The itch had thankfully faded, the scene before him grabbing all his attention. Zelda passed him again, reached the door, shoulders bobbing then turning sharply. Then she stopped. Suddenly and with force.

"That is it!" the princess declared, voice high and frill. Henko had a feeling the sound was not as authoritative or as final as the princess had wanted it to be. "I have had enough of your rules, father. I understand your concerns, but I am a woman now. I am my own person."

She began to pace once more, slower, more thoughtful now. "As hair to the throne, I must be allowed to make my own decisions, even if that also means making my own mistakes. I need to be able to do things without your eyes on me all the time. Even if it means going behind your back…" She sounded less certain of her words at the end, and she stopped once more, this time right in front of Henko.

The princess bowed her head, her hand to her chin almost comically signalling her reflecting.

"Perhaps that is exactly it. Something he could never accept…"

O

Henko watched as the king exited the room. Another argument between father and daughter; king and princess. He stood in the corner, posted behind the princess's chair. They were in a small study in the highest tower, the window all looked down upon the central courtyard, more than a hundred feet below.

Light shone in through those windows, setting fire to the moats of dust that swirled in the trapped dry air. The princess had set up in the little room about an hour past noon, and it was now almost five in the evening. She was working fervently on something, but Henko had not been able to see what it was. Perhaps a map? Or a diagram, maybe?

His work entailed a lot of nearly-caught events. Hushed conversations and arguments, just barely out of hearing, entire scenes played out in the corner of one's eye. The lack of explanation was so taunting. Frustrating.

Of course, Henko had no right to know anything. In fact, what he did know was likely more than he deserved. But all the mystery made his mind wander, his imagination creating a story of his own about the lives of the castle's denizens.

The current plot – at least as Henko imagined it – involved the princess' secret lover, and her father's overprotective grip. A young prince, Henko imagined, had come to one of the recent balls. The two royals had mingled, and then run off to a secluded corner to continue their discussion more privately. The two had probably written to each other ever since, both entirely head over heels for one another at this point.

As far as Henko knew, he was at least as likely to be entirely wrong about his musings as he was right. But it made a fine story. Something to keep the mind going through the long shifts.

"Guard!" The princess' voice cut sharply through his mind, nearly making him jump. He straightened his back just a bit further in response.

"Your highness?" Henko answered, sharp and precise, as he had been taught.

"What is your name, guard?" the princess said. Her voice was still loud in his ears, louder than the small study required. She sat with her arm around the back of the chair, face turned toward him. Her long, golden hair hung down past the armrest, swinging slightly from the motion of her turning around. Her face was neatly framed by the long strands and the impossibly straight fringe across her forehead. Her cheeks and nose were flushed lightly red.

"Come, Heko, I need your help."

As Henko stepped up to the young princess – at twenty-three he was really only four years older than she – he saw an odd grin flash across her lips. Whatever she had in mind, Henko had a strange feeling he would not like it.

He stole a look at the cluttered desk, trying to spot whatever she had been working on. But, whatever it was, she had put it away. The only papers cluttering the desk now were blank.

"Henko, how long have you served at your current post?" the princess asked.

"Three years, your highness."

"And you are devoted?" It sounded too much like a question. Of course he was devoted! "If I asked you to do something, you would do it? No questions?" He felt a sudden uneasiness.

"Of course, your majesty," he said steadily, quickly adding: "As long as the king has not directly prohibited it."

The princess nodded thoughtfully, tresses bobbing. "That is right," she said. "And if I told you not to speak to anyone about what I ask of you, you would follow that order too? So long as my father did not specifically ask you for that exact information?"

"That is right, your highness." Now he was feeling really nervous. Perspiration wetted his brow, his hands felt clammy. But, he did not question her. He could not.

The princess nodded again, looking triumphant. She pushed back her chair, then turned it to the side so that she faced him directly. She flipped her hand through her hair, confidently – but not very princess-like.

"Then, pull down your trousers, Henko!"

Henko froze. Whatever his mind could have cooked up about what this was about, it was nothing like this. This was beyond his wildest imagination. But the princess looked at him expectantly. Waiting for him to do as she asked. But he couldn't, could he? Not this.

"Do I need to say it again?" the princess said, sounding genuinely frustrated. "Fine, I will go over to the door and lock it. If those fancy soldiers' trousers are not bunched on the floor when I return, I will have you discharged by tomorrow." She stood up, turned in a flurry of pink and gold, and walked toward the door.

His heart was racing. Was this a bluff? Surely a guard exposing himself to the princess was cause for execution? But she had ordered it. If he didn't do as she said, that would too would be a transgression. And somehow, he did not doubt what she had said about discharging him. He was damned either way.

But the king won't know. Little comfort as that brought, it was enough to make him act. He undid his belt, pushed his trousers down. He was back to his straight-backed stance just as the princess returned to her chair, an excited smirk on her face.

Henko could not believe it. He was standing alone in a room with the princess of Hyrule, his trousers at his feet, and only his briefs between him and his princess.

"Good." she said. "Now, you are not allowed to move until I say so. Not an inch! Underwood?" Henko simply stared back at her in response, and the princess seemed to take it as confirmation.

A moment later he felt her cold, soft hands grace the skin of his hips. She undid the tie, then the tips of her fingers dug into the hem of his underwear, and she began pulling them down. His dick bounced free, already beginning to stiffen. A short gasp escaped the princess' lips as she watched him rise before her.

"Oooh!" Zelda cooed. Heko found the sound to be entirely improper for a young princess, but he could not bring himself to object. "It looks so good. So big!" She reached out her left hand excitedly, wrapping her slim fingers around his covered head. He twitched as she gripped him, his cock growing stiffer than it had ever been. Slowly – agonisingly so to Heko's increasingly aroused mind – the princess slid her hand down his shaft.

Zelda's fingertips barely touched as she held on snuggly. Bit by bit the foreskin was pulled back, the red tip revealed to the open air. A bead of thick, transparent liquid formed from the slit. It began a slow descent toward the wooden floor, hanging suspended in the air from a thin, viscous thread. Then Zelda moved her hand back up his cock, caching the strand across her thumb.

"You smell intoxicating," the princess said. She breathed in deeply through her nose, nostrils flaring as she took in his musky scent. Her hand slid down his length once more, forcing a groan from Heko's lips. He jerked forward in compulsory desperation, bringing Zelda's hand down to his base.

Zelda giggled, loosening her grip for the first time. At once, Heko felt a desperate need for more. "Now, now! A little eager, are we?" Her tone was scolding, perhaps mocking. "You are my servant, and I expect you to do as I say. No moving! I will be doing the work."

She returned her hands to his tip, now exposed, and sensitive to her tender touch. Gently, Zelda pressed her thumb to the underside of Heko's penis, drawing little circles just under the slit.

If someone finds out, I'll be dead, Heko thought, knees quivering at the pleasure. But if I do, I will die a happy man.

Through the haze of pleasure, Heko watched the princess as she worked his raging erection. Her face was that of concentration, brow knit, tip of her tongue pressed between her soft lips. As her left hand pumped the guard's member wickedly, the right danced aimlessly in the air, as if to counteract her motions. Zelda sat hunched forward, bent toward her work. Her long, golden hair dangled below, almost to her knees. Her cheeks were blushing red, a rosy kind only flushed skin could make.

Heko was struck by a sudden urge to let himself loose across those darling features, spilling himself onto her face. He could almost see it. His thick, white seed covering her round cheeks, her thin chin, stuck in her eyelashes and in that fine fringe of hair covering her forehead.

He was pulled back into reality as he felt his penis twitch. With all effort he had, Heko pulled himself back over that edge, holding out just a little longer.

He did want to come. Oh how he did. But even greater was his desire to make this moment last just a little longer. Besides, he suspected the princess would have a few words to say if he had finished without her ordering it. Especially without forewarning.

Zelda's hand – now slick with Heko's pre – slid up and down without hesitation. She ground her fingers into his sensitive skin with the skill of a professional, hand seeming to never tire. Heko puffed and moaned, but Zelda was kept deadly silent as she worked. With a sad sense of inevitability, Heko felt the end approaching once more. This time, it would not be avoided.

"Princess…" Heko breathed, more strained than he expected. "Your highness, I'm at my limit." His knees betrayed him for just a moment, making him wobble on his feet.

Zelda's eyes lit up in excitement. She sat up straighter, right hand stopping its aimless frolic. She placed her hand to her chest, fingers gripping the neck of her dress.

"I hope you have a lot to show for my work, soldier!" Zelda said meaningfully. "I expect nothing but the best from my servants. If your product is not to my liking, I will have to administer appropriate punishment." Had Heko not been in the room – been the one it was all happening to – he would not have thought the words out of ordinary.

"I hope it's warm," the princess said, though Heko thought it sounded more like a demand than a wish. "And thick. And sticky. As I said, I expect the best. Oh, and I want it all here." Heko's eyes widened in shock as Zelda pulled the neck of her dress, spreading it to reveal her naked chest.

Almost certainly, there were laws prohibiting Heko from laying eyes on the princess's naked body. Surely he would have his head cut off for it. Though that fate was already sealed for him if any of what he had let the princess do was brought to the king's attention. Heko simply could not take his eyes off those lovely breasts.

They were small – under the dress they had barely been more than a bump, despite Zelda's lack of bandeau – making her stiff, pink nipples stand out even starker. As the thought of cradling those soft mounds in his hands came into Heko's mind, he felt the last remnants of his restraint leave.

"Princess, I'm going to—"

"Right here!" Zelda ordered, interrupting him. She pulled Heko closer by his cock, directing it down into the neck of her dress.

Heko felt as if a weight lifted from his mind as his floodgate finally burst. He barely felt the princess' hand persistently continuing to stroke him as jet after jet shot out of him. His senses fuzzed as he came, the pleasure so all-encompassing. So immense.

Warm, white seed sprayed from Heko's pulsating penis, all the while, the princess' thin hand flew up and down it, milking every last drop onto her bare chest. When Heko's orgasm eventually ended and his senses returned, he found himself flustered by the sight before him. At once, he felt both pride and horror; never before had he come so much, but he had used that to defile the princess.

Her chest was covered in sticky ropes, glazed milky-white. Heko could smell his own release; musky, a little acrid. A few strands of semen had splashed up her neck, but most was firmly plastered to her breasts. Some was running down her shallow cleavage, snaking down her chest and stomach. To where, only Hylia knew. Zelda slipped her finger from the neck of her dress. The garment fell back over her chest, closing off that wonderful view.

But for one lone streak that had climbed far enough up Zelda's neck, all of Heko's seed was now hidden away. He doubted it would stay so innocent for long. Soon the cum would soak through, staining the dress, eventually crusting if not washed out.

Heko looked up at the princess' face. For just a second, the look he met was uncertain. Then her lips turned to a bemused smirk.

"That was quite the show, I must say," Zelda began to fan herself as she spoke. Her cheeks were flushed a deep red, her hair perhaps a little mussed. "I am pleased with your performance, guard. I might even like to call you to my aid again in the future." She tapped her cheek with her finger, biting her lower lip.

Standing up from her chair, Zelda rounded her desk. She walked over to the door before turning back around. "I shall have myself a bath, I think. You may return to your quarters. You're dismissed for the day." With that she unlocked the door and disappeared down the hallway.

Heko was left alone in the study. Bewildered at what he had just been through. And at what might yet be to come.