Chapter 5

Time before sunrise—she was not quite sure how long she had been walking—Zelda found herself up and wandering along the heavily-guarded pathways of Hateno Village under a dark, moonlit sky. She had not been able to sleep tonight, feeling restless and perturbed. Every night was like this, sleep avoiding her, and her restlessness leading her to walk the numerous trails through and around the area. She was not alone, however.

By now, these peaceful lands had become an encampment for the kingdom's many soldiers and subjects. She had not the comforts of friendship, but those who had sworn their swords to her protection. This place, this peaceful village, was once something of a home to her, one where she found solace in the simple lives of peasants. There were no high walls made of stone, no guard towers watching her every movement. Nor were there the sounds of cannon fire, or the marching of soldiers. Now, she looked out into the cold darkness, under a starry sky and a pale, waxing moon, thinking she would rather be anywhere else. A brisk wind blew out of the east, causing her to wrap her arms around herself in a vain attempt to stifle its ill effects.

One of those guardsmen stirred behind her. She could hear his careful footsteps as he approached. She did not want to be bothered.

"Are you well, your highness?" he asked quietly.

She nodded without turning. "I am fine enough. You may return your attention to your post."

Her words were too callous, she thought, and perhaps now he understood her feelings. Her repudiation of his concern was not intentional. He was not him, after all. She could hear the armoured guardsmen bow—chainmail coat jingling—uttering his polite goodbyes. But her attention for the moment was on other matters. At the base of the village, she could see a large fire burning. It had been going all night, with her many men who had gathered here to protect her milling about it, drawn to its warmth amidst the cool autumntide air of the night. One man tended to the flame, while another turned the spit above it. She could smell whatever was cooking. Mountain deer, she thought. The distinct scent of it reminded her of his cooking. Many things around evoked her fondness for him, Zelda suddenly realized, feeling her heart twist into a tight knot. She had thought about going down there to greet them, to thank them for their services, but she would not ever find the courage to, nor the heart. She thought then about Link; about his slow, but steady recovery over the past week. At sunrise, she would go to see him, to check his wound, to receive her daily briefing on his condition. He was still so weak, and to see him like that hurt her beyond what words could describe. It was why she was here now, so far from his bedside, alone and with only her thoughts to comfort her. And with that feeling, she kept on her way, lingering here and there.

When the sun finally began to crest over the horizon, and the first light of dawn announced itself in brilliant shades of streaking oranges and reds, Zelda's aimless feet brought her back home. She thought about what she would say before she walked in, and then lifted the latch.

After she entered into the home, she suddenly forgot; saw several of her physicians gathered around her new dining table, and Doctor Galbert who firmly greeted her. "Good morrow, your highness," he said evenly. "I do hope you enjoyed a pleasant and refreshing stroll at sunrise." He reached out to offer her a mug of milk.

She smiled a little in response. Her heart ached somewhat to see how Galbert had changed over the passing days. Zelda knew he had worked tirelessly, scarcely slept, doing everything he could to keep Link alive and on the path to recovery. The marks of sleeplessness were there evidently on his face; she supposed they were on her own as well. She could only guess how poor of state she appeared to her servants this morning. Even so, she accepted the mug he had offered, taking it in her own hands, and sipping from it. It was warm and comforting to taste. She found herself sitting down in one of the chairs by the table, raising her mug for another taste. Galbert hesitated a moment, and then took his own seat in front of her. She was quiet, carefully mulling over what to say in response. She realized, then, looking at the physician across from her, that she wished he would speak again. But he would not.

"The weather was agreeable," Zelda then said; "and the crisp, fresh air rejuvenated me. Yes, thank you, Doctor Galbert." The princess took one more sip from her mug, and then set it aside. "Now, please, you may begin our morning brief," she added awkwardly.

She saw the older man's dangly brow crease. He said nothing though, and she realized he was pondering over what to say, much like she did a second ago. Galbert always had a careful way with words, she thought.

His expression relaxing, he said, proudly so, "Sir Link has regained consciousness, and has spoken with us."

Her heart swelled immediately with great emotion. She could identify love, relief, and several other strong feelings. "Is he awake now?" she asked quickly, realizing she had not thought to lower her voice to conceal her excitement.

"He is resting for the moment," he replied. "I am pleased to report his mind is of sound nature. Immediately upon his waking, he inquired about the status of . . ."

"Of what?"

Taking a deep breath, he said, "Well, of you, your highness."

With a shaky right hand, she bore her mug, sipping her milk again. "I . . . I see," she said. Her voice was trembling, and she felt dizzy enough to stutter. Zelda swallowed hard, continuing to say, "Did he wish to know anything in particular?" She watched him wrestle with that. But before he could speak, she added, "Other than I am well and fine . . . because of his most valiant efforts, of course."

Princess Zelda tried hard to conceal her true emotions right now. She was—quite frankly—doing a horrible job of it, much to her chagrin. If Doctor Galbert was any more the wiser about them, he would have suspected something was amiss.

Instead, he smiled. "Sir Link merely offered his concern for the Princess's wellbeing, and he also expressed interest in . . . Well, how should I put this? He uttered something about his desire for you to cook some type of seafood dish for him." Doctor Galbert paused and cleared his throat, saying, "Sir Link must be quite hungry, and I do agree: a scrumptious meal will aid further in his miraculous recovery and growing strength. I believe his condition has improved enough for him to intake such foods once more."

Zelda nodded. "Very well."

Galbert's expression turned interesting. He was looking at her more intently now. "Come noon, there are further things we must discuss. Chief Engineer Robbie and Governor Purah have requested for us to meet at the Ancient Tech Lab. There, we will review the autopsy results of the assailant. There were . . . some interesting findings, so to speak."

She did not reply immediately, nor provide Galbert an expression to be easily read and understood. Zelda thought carefully, then, thinking about what to say. The older man sitting across from her withheld his own voice.

"Noon is a fine time," she then replied in an even tone. "I will be teaching the children a class on the diverse ecosystems of Hyrule, more particularly, of the flora and fauna. It has been almost a week since I last sat down with them."

"That would be most beneficial for you," Galbert said evenly. "It is good to keep your mind occupied with such things, after all."

It probably was, she thought. But she had been so occupied recently. Had been unable to focus her attention on anything, really. This morning was no different, but things were beginning to improve. "Perhaps," was all she said; "but in the meantime, I will speak to Link. Words are fine, but he will want to observe my state with his own eyes, I think."

Galbert said, after a moment: "I believe you are right. However, I must implore Your Highness to not cause any undue distress to his person. Even if your intentions are goodhearted and true, I urge great caution in your dealings with him."

Undue distress, Zelda thought, sickened. She had done much of that in recent times. Such was her naivety and the outcomes born from it; and even understanding her own feelings now, and what she had projected upon Link. Even grasping she had nearly forced him into an uncomfortable relationship, one which he no doubt wanted, but circumstances prevented him from pursuing, Zelda could not help but feel great shame. She would impress herself upon him no further, unto his own feelings are made known, and he pursues them as she had. She remembered that day; that fateful, sunny day when she awoke from her long sleep—her long dream—when he took her into his strong arms; his warm, encompassing embrace, and he whispered those words against the crook of her neck. She had etched them into the eternal vaults of memory, never to be forgotten; never to be unremembered. It was there, deep in her soul now, where she knew one day they would be together as one, hands together, and fingers interlaced, until only death may bring them apart. Time itself had tried to separate them, and it had failed. Yes, the coming end of their mortal lives may divide them, she realized, but their souls would never be separated.

Zelda sighed hard. "If that is your recommendation," she said tersely.

"Forgive me if I misspoke," Galbert said quickly. She could hear tension in his voice. "I desire to see Sir Link recovered to the fullest extent. His mind is sound, yes, but his body still needs much time to convalesce."

"I know you have his best interests at heart," she said. "I think, for now, I will go and check on him."

Her voice was steady and calm; Galbert's face relaxed. "I shall give you two some privacy, then," he said after a moment.

"Thank you."

His fears were well founded, though, not in the way he might expect.

She watched Galbert and his retinue take their leave out of the house. Her heart beating rapidly, she stood and crept up the staircase to the upper bedroom. The first thin streaks of morning light shone through the glass window onto the bed. With anxious eyes she saw—there, resting on the very same bed—her dearest knight who was still asleep. Beside him on his left was the Master Sword, slumbering with him. She felt a spark in her then, realizing they might finally share words with each other again.

Zelda's heart led her to the simple wooden chair by his bedside. She was careful not to make too much noise; did not want to wake him so soon, simply because she did not know what to say. She had not thought so far ahead, she realized. She was bereft of words lately, perhaps more so than ever before, even. She leaned over then, fixing him with a loving gaze as he slept soundly next to her, his breathing finally relaxed again, and his condition nearly restored. And as she carefully bore his warm hand in her own, she suddenly understood her desperate prayers to the Goddess had been answered.

The house was silent now. All she heard was his gentle, rhythmic breaths with every subtle inhale and exhale. She saw his lidded eyes, the length of his dark, long lashes, and the serenity upon his face painting a picture of something most beautiful. Her thoughts led her to interlace their fingers, and somehow, she had drawn closer to him. Like a moth to flame, she was. And he was such a thing to her, made to be a lure she could not resist, no matter how hard she tried. As she walked dispiritingly along those lone pathways this morning, under the blanketing darkness of a starry night sky, she had thought very little of happiness. But now, she smiled.

A moment later, she noticed those dark lashes flutter. It was slight, but she caught it, gazing so intently at him as she was. She tried to swallow, feeling a lump in the back of her throat forming quickly.

She could not breathe anymore. His eyes opened. His mouth formed words:

"Zelda . . . ?"

Said princess was now trembling; she was unable to make herself stop. She was incredulous, looking into his steel-blue eyes as if she had accidently stepped into his soul. She felt her fingers squeeze his on their own. Little could she help herself, could she conceal the wide smile forming on her face, nor the tears streaking the sides of it. Then she felt the touch of another, as Link brought his own fingers against her cheek to wipe them away.

"Do not cry," Link said in his soft, gentle voice. She longed for that sound, needing it, was terribly reliant on that need. "I . . . I am here," he then added weakly.

She turned her face into his touch, smiling into the palm of his hand. And then her eyes lidded shut, her smile morphing downwards into an expression of deep sadness, of exasperation. She was glad she had not powdered her face today, she suddenly thought, as she wailed loudly against him. No longer could she withhold such emotions. Although, just moments before even, she had promised she would rein them in. She could not after all, and there came the moment as she cried horribly, releasing everything all at once. Both of her hands were on his own now, gripping him harshly, never to let go. She did not see his expression anymore, only darkness as she pressed his hand against her face, crying out a terrible lament. She could hear Link say something, but the words were lost amidst her cries of pain, of sorrow. Instead, his fingers spread across her face, the ends of his digits pressing themselves firmly against her. It seemed to her then, as she sobbed agonizingly loud, he had desired so much to touch her as well. And Zelda, fighting a rising fear, reminded herself of her promise to avoid crossing boundaries set by him. But that was no easy task, she found.

Fear touched her in that instant for a second, and then vanished. She felt the pull of something; saw light again as his hand drifted away abruptly; and then a softness touched upon her lips. And a moment later, not without its own burdens, came the realization Link had sat up to press his mouth firmly against her own.

For years, her nights had known dreams of such a thing. But this was no dream.

Her convulsions ceased entirely. Her shuttered eyes were now wide, unflinching under the close gaze of his own wide pools of blue as he locked intently against her. His right hand glided from her cheek along her ear, to grasp the nape of her neck, gently applying pressure to deepen their kiss. His mouth tasted of salt. Probably, she thought, from her own tears. She no longer felt such feelings of sadness, or despair, as his meek tongue entered to pass the barrier of her quivering lips. Her open mouth had invited him to explore further, she realized. And all the while this occurred, her own hands travelled around him, lovingly so, to find their purpose on his bare waist and back, supporting him to delve deeper.

The fear was gone, replaced wholly with amorous love. Her wide eyes closed, letting one final streak of tears fall under the tickle of his breath. He shifted further, pressing upwards, canting himself in such a way to kiss her full upon the lips so she may never forget his taste. She could feel his left-hand travel along the length of her scalp, skimming through her golden, shoulder-length hair. Everywhere his hands went, she felt gentle squeezes, painting a picture of his deep love for her. And she was fairly certain she had expressed such with her hands too, as they toured meticulously along his firm abdomen and chest. She was cautious as not to aggravate his wound. In any case, she had not breathed for almost a minute—suddenly realizing this fact as she broke away from him—gasping for air.

Air did fill her lungs again, as their impassioned eyes met in an intense stare. And now, their foreheads touched gently, both of them breathing hard like that. They had to stop now before things escalated, she realized, especially with him still recovering like so. She looked at Link, then, allowing a slight smile to show on her face. It had appeared there almost unconsciously.

"You frightened me," Zelda said hesitantly, stroking his cheek with her right hand. "I thought I was going . . . I mean, I thought I had lost you."

"Never would I leave you," Link said in his unmistakably gentle voice.

His words touched her heart, then; her very soul. Perhaps he knew that, could see it on her expression of great gladness. Impa always told her the eyes were portals to one's mind. And she understood that, gazing into his own to hear his solemn vows of love without him ever having uttered it.

"I know," Zelda then said, feeling more tears beckoning; "and I won't ever think of such terrible things again."

She could feel his fingers skim across her neck to rest on her chin. "I am forever yours," he said evenly, "bound to you by oath, and by love. I will shelter you from the rain, keep you safe from the evils of the land, and whatever else is required of me. By my blood and honour . . . I am your knight, Zelda. Now, and for all eternity."

She had not expected that. She managed, with an effort, to keep calm in the face of his confession. "Don't feel obligated to say such things," she said at length. "We both understand our deepest feelings for each other, and we needn't take things further than that now. Oh, Goddess! Link, I . . . I am so happy you are here and well again."

"And I am glad to see you unhurt," Link said, relaxing back against the bed.

Zelda, leaning forward to place a kiss on his forehead, said, "I must be going soon. Class will begin shortly, and the children have missed me so dearly. Many guardsmen and soldiers keep watch over the village and its perimeter. You can rest soundly here, knowing I am safe and out of harm's way."

For the first time, she saw a flicker of sadness in his eyes. She watched him avert his gaze then, seemingly in thought. There was a brief silence.

"I am sorry all of this happened," he said finally. His eyes met her own then, a diffidence in them which unnerved her. "Whoever attacked us . . . they may have followed me, only to try and discover where you have been hiding. And I . . . I led them right to you. I have lowered my guard for far too long, and this is the result of such negligence."

"You could not have known, Link," said Zelda a moment later, looking away. The sun was higher now, its bright beams cascading through the windows to light the entirety of the home. She shifted in her chair uncomfortably, and then returned her gaze to Link's forlorn eyes.

Zelda was silent, thinking of what else to say. He had such a guilty conscience, she realized, looking at his expression which spoke insecurity. If her enemies truly wished her dead, then they would have spared no expense in finding her. No place in Hyrule would be safe, she thought, as evil always seemed to exist in these lands in some form or another.

She looked firmly at him, struggling to keep her deepest emotions from her physical expression. "Please, I want you to rest," she said pleadingly. "This is my command, as Princess of Hyrule, to my most trusted confidant and dearest of knights. Do you understand this order?"

Link's expression relaxed. He seemed calmed by her confidence. "As you command," he then whispered.

"Good," Zelda said, standing from her chair. "I must take my leave soon, but before that, I will prepare a breakfast for you. Do you fancy roasted porgy and eggs?"

An immense smile took foothold on his beautiful face, then. "That sounds delightful," he answered.

She was silent a moment. Then, she smiled back. "I will return shortly."

Zelda turned and went downstairs, glad to have Link so close to her, and in good spirits yet again. That happiness was palpable, as she went about her cooking, humming, and singing merrily too. And soon, the home was overwhelmed by the mouthwatering smell of roasted fish and potatoes. She toiled hastily, knowing her dearest knight had not eaten in days. Not too much later, the morning birds serenading each other from the window announced her presence, carrying two pewter plates and a mug of milk. Careful not to drip grease, she skilfully set the food down on the chair beside the bed. Link, sitting up gingerly, smiled widely as he looked upon the meal. It being a labour of love probably stirred him even more.

The first thing Link did was take the glass of milk in his hand, sipping from it with great eagerness. Mrs. Clavia had brought it just yesterday, she thought, it being freshly milked from the cows up on the hill.

"Oh, Zelda!" Link exclaimed, softly if one ever could.

She only smiled, beaming brightly at him and with eyes filled by the strongest love. Princess Zelda—with a look of adoration—watched as her knight ate his first, palatable meal since the attempt on his life. Breakfast in bed, she thought, was a fitting way to greet him every morning. She wished to do it more often, even. It made her realize, then, looking upon his happy, content face, this was the first time she had ever greeted him in bed like this. Such things would normally be deemed inappropriate, she remembered, and the thought left her disconcerted. But still, she gazed at him as he ate his fill, and soon enough, he had cleaned both plates of food, setting them aside.

She said, "I feel only happiness to see you with such joy upon your face."

"Is it so surprising?" Link asked evenly. "I too feel similar when you enjoy what I prepare for you. Well, perhaps not monster curry. I know you never particularly cared for it."

Zelda spotted a faint hint of amusement in his voice. "Yes, being there are far more desirable alternatives to such a vile dish." She took the empty plates and the drained glass in her hand, and then turned to face him. "Soon, I must be on my way, Link. But I will return as soon as class has finished for the day, I promise. For now, I wish to see you resting and recovering your strength further."

Link sank into his bed and pillows, then. He looked tired, as much as anything, really. He tried to hide it in his strong demeanour, but she had known her knight for far too long for him to readily keep such things from her. "As you wish," he then replied, somewhat weakly.

Zelda smiled, seeing his eyes lid slightly in a manner indicating tiredness. She then turned on her heel and took several steps. Then, she heard his voice again:

"Zelda?"

Turning her head to the side, the princess looked at his reclining form.

"Yes, Link?" asked Zelda.

"During my recovery, I had suffered a long dream," said Link.

"A dream?"

He nodded, said, "I scarcely remember it, but I do recall the feeling of a comforting presence washing over me . . . like something of a great warmth. There earlier, I had felt a similar feeling when you held my hand."

She did not answer for a long time, and almost thought to avert her eyes from him. His voice—deeply toned and even—was more probing than anything.

"Is that so?" she finally replied, raising her eyebrows.

Link did not reply, but then, glancing out the corner of her eyes, she saw he was smiling. An odd smile, and there was something of an understanding in those deep, blue eyes of his.

"I will return after noon," Zelda said quietly. "I hope you have a pleasant rest, Link."

And then she turned to go. Afterwards, she fixed herself up to be presentable, donning her plain, blue shift, and a hairpin to hold her bangs back. She always dressed simply like this, and with that musing, Zelda took her books, her planner for the day, and opened the door to a greeting sunlight.

In truth, she did not know what Link had felt. Perhaps, she thought, it was just the warmth of her own hands. That had to be it, she determined, stepping out into the young morning to see blue skies and white, fluffy clouds. Beyond that, she could see the many majestic islands dotting the horizon, being conditions were clear enough for them to become visible again. There was so much for her to think about, walking over the bridge and through the now-bustling roads. Various villagers waved to her, then, and she greeted them warmly in return. She saw Miss Ivee out in front of the East Wind, and Manny closer still. Even Mister Seldon greeted her today, in his usual welcoming fashion. The people of Hateno Village were always so kind to her, and such feelings made her realize she would miss this place dearly. Zelda felt like she had stepped halfway into a dream, to see birds flying freely through the air, and children running along the roads, giggling with happiness. Such was her life when he was by her side. Everything would be perfect, if not for the realization her guardsmen still polluted the village, nearing her side as well.

When she had arrived at the schoolhouse, Symin was there to greet her. He seemed anxious, though such feelings were completely understandable.

"Link has awoken," she said quickly.

"It is a miracle of the Goddess!" Symin exclaimed. "Such wonderful tidings for Hyrule, for all the peoples of the land!"

"Yes, and he is well enough to eat," Zelda answered, walking inside of the school alongside Symin. "I believe he will be fit enough for travel very shortly. Indeed, by the very words of Doctor Galbert, his recovery is miraculous."

His dark eyes, beneath thick, grey eyebrows rested upon her as she said this. He scratched his chin in thought, silent as he mulled over something. "I am so relieved," he then said. "It shames me to admit that for a time I feared the worst."

"Then I am guilty of the same shame," Zelda said quietly.

Symin's brown eyes narrowed across from her, but he turned away. "The children will be arriving shortly. Have you prepared a lecture for the day?"

Zelda, withdrawing her planner, said, "I have. I will be going over various plants, trees, and flowers of Hyrule. We will go into a brief discussion of the many animals too, more specifically of Necluda."

"Very well," Symin replied.

"Speaking of which," Zelda began again, "after class, I will be attending a meeting with Purah, Robbie, and Doctor Galbert at the lab. We will be discussing the autopsy results of the would-be assassin. So, forgive me . . . but I must take a leave of absence in the afternoon."

"That is no trouble," the older Sheikah man said indifferently. "I have more course material for us to review for the coming test."

Princess Zelda simply nodded, and then began preparations to receive the students. Soon enough, several children came running from the village below the hill. And there, Zelda saw Karin who—immediately upon seeing her—lunged for an embrace. The young girl was close to tears, and to see that hurt her greatly. They were all so purehearted, and she wished not to spoil that. After a while, the entire classroom was filled with all the children of Hateno Village. Even young Teebu had decided to show up today, evidently because they all knew she was going to teach their class. Indeed, it had been several days since she had seen them, and they were all so very excited to hear from her.

With all the children listening intently, the day grew older still as Zelda went through their lecture, and soon enough there came the time for recess.

"Please, do not forget to study!" Zelda said firmly. "Next week's test will cover the flora of East Necluda."

It was afternoon now, with half of the day over with. All of the children bade farewell to Zelda, knowing she would not return after lunch. And when she was turning to go out the door, she heard Symin's voice from behind her:

"So, will we be going through with the plan, then?"

Zelda, turning to the Sheikah man, tilted her head slightly. "If you are referring to the Akkala Citadel, then yes. Purah and Robbie have determined Hyrule Castle to be untenable, due to its . . . current state. Hudson has been working restlessly on the restoration of the citadel for quite some time. It will not be too much longer before the project is ultimately complete."

Symin frowned. "I see. Well, I do hope the children learned much from you. You have set a fine example for them these past few years. Even if it was only but a short time, they will always cherish that."

She had not thought about such things. But Symin was right: one day she would have to leave this place permanently. It was a strange feeling, considering she had lived here for years now. But, deep in her heart, Zelda knew she would never be one of them. She was, in fact, the Princess of Hyrule, born from a noble line and carrying the sacred blood of the Royal Family. Never would she be a peasant, no matter how much she dressed, bathed, and lived like them. One day, she would have the cold, high-reaching stone walls of castles surrounding her again. Such was the life she was born into, and this kind of thinking did much to stifle the gaiety of her mood.

Zelda said nothing. She did not have the heart to. Instead, she nodded her goodbyes, and fled out the door with her books and writings clutched hard against her chest. She felt a sudden sharp sadness and nostalgia, as she walked along the dirt pathway up the hill to pass under the windmills. She would miss this place dearly, she realized then, seeing the many cows and cuccos, the farmers working their fields diligently. The crisp, fresh aroma of the farmland enriched her being, and she knew Link loved it here as well. Such wistfulness led her swiftly to her destination. Up on the top of the hill, she stepped in front of the Ancient Tech Lab. The princess quickly realized she was late, seeing the brilliant, invigorating sun high up in the sky to shine down its warmth.

When she entered into the lab, she was greeted by a most grotesque sight: there, on the table—sprawled out and lifeless—was the very-much dead assassin of whom Link had dispatched. He was stripped nude, and the signs of necropsy were evident on his pale, pasty torso. It smelt in here too, horribly so, she thought.

Stepping inside further found her greeted by Robbie, who adjusted his visor as he laid eyes on her. "Princess Zelda!" he exclaimed flamboyantly. "Good afternoon to you."

"Hello, Robbie," Zelda greeted meekly. She was not as used to the stench of a rotten corpse as he was, she supposed.

As if on cue, she could see Purah climbing down the ladder from above. Eventually, at about half-way, she leapt to land with a thud. "Princess!" she greeted cheerfully. "We have all heard of your knight's miraculous recovery by now. Doctor Galbert was very forthcoming with this information. It warms my heart to hear Linky is doing so well."

"Yes, he is fairing strong," Zelda said, pinching her nose to stifle the smell. "I do hope our meeting here is short."

"Ah," Purah retorted, raising her recorder, and pointing it in Zelda's direction. "I know exactly why you hope this meeting is short. Do not fret, Princess! Your secret is safe with me. At any rate, this will not take long. We are simply awaiting the arrival of Doctor Galbert, and then we can begin promptly."

Zelda nodded delicately, and as if summoned by the Sheikah woman's words, the door behind them opened to reveal the man in question. "Forgive me for my tardiness," said Galbert, his long, white beard flipping about as he hastily stepped inside. "I had some business to take care of, but that is finished now."

"Let us not waste any more time," Robbie interjected, stepping up to the corpse.

Princess Zelda felt her heart thump. She really did not want to get any closer to the thing.

"Right, then," Purah said, walking up to the table. "We should first discuss what we know."

Doctor Galbert, clearing his throat, said, "At first glance, there does not seem to be anything strange about this individual. He is, perhaps, thirty-five years old at the most. Dark of hair and eyes; a young, well-fed, and very physically fit male." Galbert cleared his throat again, and then pointed to his abdomen, saying, "There are several notable scars strewn out along his midsection here, the cause no doubt being sharp-force trauma. And from his nave to his chops . . . is the deep, and quite fatal wound inflicted by Sir Link's own hand."

Zelda closed her eyes briefly. She suddenly realized now; she was not cut out for medical sciences. "It is not my intention to be rude," she said softly; "but is there any point to be made from these findings?"

There was a brief silence as Galbert looked at Robbie; he responded by turning his own gaze to Purah. Zelda thought she might vomit if she stayed here any longer.

A recorder whizzed through the air, pointing to the sternum. "Not on the exterior," Purah then said finally.

With her left hand, she reached her fingers into the section where the corpse had been surgically cut open, lifting back the flesh. After a moment, she pulled the other side backwards as well, exposing everything. Zelda winced. Surprisingly, her nausea seemed to pass in those seconds as she looked down at the hollow cadaver, with the inner walls of its skin exposed for all of them to see. But, what she saw there—which she had not expected—disturbed her more than anything.

"What could it be?" Zelda asked incredulously.

Her expression of confusion briskly compounded into something stronger. Perhaps . . . bewilderment? All the same, she could not quite understand what she was looking at, but whatever it was did more than enough to unnerve her.