Chapter 28: The Forging of Loyalty

"Your Majesty," Zelda said to her father as she curtsied before him, playing the perfect princess as only she could.

"Your Royal Highness," Liotidos nodded in return, but beyond that his face was stone. No warmth, no love, no joy, no sorrow. The same expression he used when he looked upon any of his subjects. One she had become overfamiliar with these last few weeks. It didn't bother her, she told herself as she reached her place by his side.

Behind her, the rest of the king's war council followed. Each of them bowing their respect to both king and princess before they found their own positions around the table. It was quite the menagerie. Some of them familiar from the first war council Zelda took part in, Coroto the Goron ambassador with his wide friendly grin and Selvas of the Zora elegantly flowed like water as she made her greetings. Duke Arlan and Ganondorf had both left to lead their armies on the field. In their place Arlan sent his nephew, a round-faced boy perhaps a year or two older than Zelda herself named Durrell.

"A pleasure," he said to the king as he bowed three times in a row, "to be in your august presence. Though I am young, and I know I am only here to receive and send reports to my uncle. And I will do my duties well. And I think that I can-"

"We get it voe," snapped a sharp voice from behind him. "You're a glorified messenger, make way for those who matter."

Durrell's ears turned a bright red, and his eyes went wide. But he bowed once more before he fled to his own chair.

After him came three women, and it was an effort for Zelda to keep her disdain from her face. But one must be regal, even before barbarians. The first was the largest woman that Zelda had ever seen, not just because she was tall, but wide as well. Every momentous step seemed to threaten to topple the woman over, but she waddled to a chair designed for Gorons and plopped onto it. Behind her came two women that looked completely opposite of her, but in different ways.

Both were as old as her father or older. The first looked like a spear of the Royal Knights, skinny as a stick, with her nose pointing forward as sharp as any blade Zelda had seen. The one behind her was just as thin, but without sinewy muscles, instead withered and wrapped in a shawl. Where the former looked to have no expression at all, the latter smiled with a friendly warmth. Were it not for the gem she bore on her headdress, one would be forgiven thinking her a little old washer woman who stumbled upon a war council on accident.

That one Zelda trusted least. The woman that Ganondorf had ran to embrace, the one he called the wisest woman that he had ever known.

But in the days since, Zelda heard no great wisdom from her. In fact, she had not heard much of anything. The one called Matron Bulira sat at her end of the table at dinners or disappeared off by herself to the gardens or walking around the city. She seemed embarrassed to be seen.

Sir Jora entered last, carrying a pile of papers with him which he managed to keep hold of as he made the bows of respect. Before he took the seat furthest from the royals at the table and spread his papers before him in three even piles.

Once every had seated, the boy, Durrell, coughed then looked worried to the king as if that slight act would offend him.

Her father gave a brief nod before he cleared his throat. "The council of war is called to order. We are assaulted on three fronts, and I expect reports on the defenses from my oath-brother Darunia, the wise King De Bon, and the honorable Duke Arlan."

"Yes, your majesty," Durrell said, holding up a scroll. Then he looked over to Corroto. "I'm sorry, he mentioned your chief first would you like to go?"

"No, no," the Goron frowned, seemingly troubled for some reason. "You start, gives me time to think."

"Thank you," Durrell put the scroll down on the table. Then seemed to realize he made a mistake, lifted the scroll and made the point to show his uncle's seal was still intact. "This comes from my uncle," he said, as if that were not completely obvious.

Zelda could not hold back a sigh as he broke the seal and unfurled the scroll. He was going to read it for the first time before them? Wouldn't it be more efficient if he read it earlier, so he could just tell them what it said? Instead, she had to watch as the boy smoothed out the scroll, only for his grip to loosen and part of it to curl back on itself so he needed to hold it down as he read.

"His highness, my uncle Duke Harlow Arlan of Kolomo, Warden of Southron Fields sends his regards and the following message," Durrell stopped speaking and read a bit ahead. "He says he has arrived at Hateno and has found the castle in good repair and the garrison in high spirits. He sent Lord Lool… No. Lord Lurelin to Kobitan to organize the supply shipments." He read a bit further, his lips moved as he read! "He does make note that a small band of Moblins attacked his supply train while on route, they have already traveled further south than we- I mean than he and your Majesty anticipated. He may not have as much time to set up his defenses as hoped."

Of course, he doesn't. Ganondorf knew he was coming and likely already told his minions about the plans at Hateno. The moblins will harass them before their defenses are ready. But Zelda could not think of any way around it.

Zelda closed her eyes as Durrell continued talking about some unnecessary details about lumber supplies. She had only recently began her studies of the last war; for years her father kept her from learning about the gore of battle. But everyone spoke of Duke Arlan as a rare talent. Second in military genius only to her mother. At least, among the Hylians. But the one time he faced Ganondorf he lost the battle. Less terribly than most but defeated none the less. Would he survive another onslaught planned by the Gerudo?

Exactly what she needed, one more situation to solve from the shadows.

"The attack of the Moblins does cause me some distress," her father said as Durrell concluded his ramblings.

"If such attacks continue, and I don't see why they wouldn't, it may require that we send them additional troops," Zelda said. "Assuming the Moblin commander is competent, they have already figured out what the Duke is attempting at Hateno."

Selvas made a chiding noise, "My dear Princess, these are vicious brutes, nothing more. I'd be surprised if they have the wit to make sense of anything the raiders saw."

"Thank you for correcting me. I was unaware that the good Lady Selvas had any experience dealing with Moblins."

"Well," the Zora said. "Well, I - I don't mean that I have ever faced them. Personally."

"And of course," Zelda continued over the ambassador, "these attacks are completely normal for Moblins and don't at all indicate that the monsters at our borders are better organized than they ever have been before. How silly of me to take precautions."

The Zora ambassador did not respond further. Good. Get out of my way while I try to save all of us.

Zelda looked to her father. "It is likely that they will need to be reinforced with additional forces."

"Armies do not simply sprout out of nowhere," he said as he lightly scratched at his beard. "Sir Jora?"

The knight scrubbled at one of the papers, running calculations no doubt. She knew that her father used the Knight of Foxes as a go between with the banking guilds. Whispering servants once mentioned that his grandfather was only a lowly merchant, before his father won himself a knighthood. When she asked Impa about it, she only said that his grandfather had made their family frightfully rich and that by the grace of Hylia, Jora was blessed with his father's skill and his grandfather's brains.

"If your Majesty wishes to pay for another army, you will need to wait until our next tax collection in seven months. Or we will need to take up another loan." He looked up from his numbers to the king. "I have a few favors to call in that might get one at a low interest."

"Use what rupees we have to spare to start collecting weapons and officers. As of now Duke Arlan seems to have things well in hand but write up the papers for the loan." Her father turned from Jora to the boy, Durrell. "Tell your uncle that I expect biweekly reports from him on the maintenance of the castle and any Moblin activity. At even a whiff of a true threat to his position, we call up the reinforcing army."

Sir Jora looked back down to his papers, picked up an ink pen and started making his scratch marks on it. There was power in finances, even a cursory study of history should teach someone that. Zelda found herself looking at the top of the knight's head. Her father trusted him, and until this moment so had she. But he had been spending a great deal of time with the Gerudo hadn't he?

She had known Jora for years and had always liked the man, she still remembered him asking if she had been hurt when Ganondorf dragged her before her father. He had been kind. But kindness was no guarantee of loyalty. By the Goddesses, how many by her father's side could she trust?

"That front done, what news do we have among the Zora and Gorons?" her father asked.

"By the might of King Zora and the grace of Lord Jabu-Jabu the Octorok threat has been kept at bay."

The large Gerudo chieftainess gave a snorting chuckle, which made Ambassador Selvas fluster. The Zora gave a polite cough but did not say anything more.

"That front is going well, and what news of Death Mountain?"

"The last message that Chief Darunia sent me has bad tidings," Coroto stood up, the floor creaked from the shifting of his weight. "The Lizalfos have been raiding the roads leading to our home. And the news is worse still. They are gathering, and it seems they are preparing to assault the Crown of Death Mountain." The big Goron looked down, then at his massive stony fingers. "All my life, I hear that is impossible. And yet, the monsters are there. And Ganondorf is not. He should have arrived many days ago."

"Our king seems to have moved slower than we'd like, unfortunate." Ashdin, the large woman they called the Most-Feared said.

"Wars," said the skinny Matron named Rijya who never smiled and rarely blinked, "refuse to keep to a schedule."

The third said nothing, as she was wont to do. She only played with the corner of her shawl and watched. Never letting her attention wander, but never offering any input either.

"Easy to say," Coroto did not look convinced. "But as your king delays, my people still face the monsters. We are dying." He shook his head and clenched his jaw. His eyes wandered down to the map on the table. His massive hand pointed from the Gerudo Desert then passed over the map, stopping a moment at Satori Pass to Castle Town, to Faron, to a dozen more points beside all the way to Kokiri Forest. "All my life, I have been told that your king moves faster than possible. That he strikes like lightning. My people are dying." He looked up and his eyes found the Gerudo. "Why does your king delay?"

Finally, a reaction from the one named Bulira, but all she did was avert her eyes and frown. Sorrow, perhaps? Guilt? Unlikely from the Gerudo, perhaps it meant nothing.

"Raiders do not let one ride past with a kiss and a wave," Rijya said in a faraway dead voice.

"That was weeks ago!" the Goron smashed his heavy hand on the arm of his chair. Even reinforced with steel as the seat was, the wood cracked under the force.

"Perhaps," Zelda said, "your king offered some reason for his delay? I do admit simply raiders does not seem satisfactory. I've been studying the last war, and several times Ganondorf fought skirmishes and even battles against trained knights and continued the march either that day or the next."

"Do something amazing once," Rijya said again, "and it becomes expected from you forever."

"Your master has always hated us Gorons! He is trying to drag his feet. He wants as many of us to die as he can."

"You want to say that again?" the Most-Feared managed to push herself to her feet. She puffed out her already quite dramatically sized chest and looked over the table to the Goron Ambassador. Zelda leaned forward in her chair. Was that a threat or simply posturing? Neither of them had weapons, but Zelda found her heart racing faster all the same. One does not get a name like Most-Feared for backing down from a fight. But her fighting years were behind her, certainly?

Coroto stood up as well. "I say you Gerudo have always hated us. And your king is letting us die. Because he is without honor!"

"Enough from you!" Ashdin smashed her fist against her armrest as Coroto had a moment before on his own. Only hers cracked as the wood splintered beneath her fist. "Let's see how difficult it is to crack stone!" Zelda's eyes went wide, she looked over her shoulder to order Impa to put a stop to them, but her guardian wasn't invited to the war council. Not knowing what else to do, her eyes found the only other person in the room she trusted.

"Silence!" Zelda's father's voice forced itself through the entire room. Full of power and authority that demanded it be obeyed. The two stopped, and Zelda let out a breath of relief. "I will not have my own war council turn into a battle among ourselves."

"No battles in the war room," Rijya said, the only one in the entire council, guards included, who did not seem at all perturbed by the events.

"If I may?" Bulira said, her voice so quiet that Zelda strained to hear it. The king looked to her a moment, then gave a wave of his hand to let her continue. "Ambassador Coroto I understand that you are upset. Do you have family at the Crown?"

"I do," he said, still frowning.

"This must be very distressing for you. Have you ever had a family member living in danger before?"

"I do not see how this is relevant," Coroto said.

"It is a deep worry, when your children are in danger. I know that better than most. Every day without word from them your mind starts thinking of everything that could go wrong. Then there is no word for weeks or months even and your fear consumes you completely. Like every breath could be the last one sharing the same world with your children." Bulira shook her head. "We all know your worry, but you need to understand we are trying to help. As best as we all can in this war. And Matron Ashdin how many daughters have you lost in battles or to the winds?"

"Three," she said, frowning deeply.

"I am very sorry for your losses. But you must remember that you are used to war. All of us among the Gerudo have seen family, friends, and lovers join the ancestors. So many times, we forget the sorrow of those new to this dread. We must be patient."

"Sorrows or no, he insulted our king," Ashdin said. "You of all people must hate that."

"Ganondorf has earned the loyalty of everyone dwelling in the desert a hundred times over. But it is our loyalty, not theirs. Gan's honor will survive a few words. But our alliance might not should you start a fight."

Matron Ashdin the Most-Feared grimaced, then met Coroto's eyes. She stared for a long time, but Zelda could tell that she had already decided not to antagonize the Goron further. But of course, the name 'Most-Feared' would want to hold everyone in terrified anticipation for her answer. When Ashdin apparently thought she had waited long enough, she sat back down and gestured for the others to continue talking.

"That was well spoken," King Liotidos said with the slightest nod of respect to Bulira. "Now, if we may continue." He spoke of the need for Ganondorf to march faster and how his heart felt heavy for the plight of the Gorons. But Zelda only half listened.

There was still so much to learn about her enemies and leadership in general. Her father commanded with his presence and voice. And that worked, he got the two to stop fighting with a single word. But Bulira found a way to ease the tensions between them. If Zelda was going to become a great queen, she would need to learn both.

And then there was the blind loyalty that Ganondorf seemed to effortlessly hold from his people. It annoyed her more than she'd like that she was drawing lessons from her enemies. But that quality would be useful. The Most-Feared may have had the skills of a warrior once, but now she was fat, slovenly, and had difficulty walking long distances. And yet she was more than willing to challenge a Goron just for insulting her king. A Goron! Even one such as ambassador Coroto, who as far as Zelda knew never once took up arms with anyone, could crush a person effortlessly. Ashdin would have no chance in a fight.

Her father had loyal knights, those that were willing to fight and die for the glory of Hyrule and the crown. But the Gerudo's loyalty felt deeper, they were willing to pointlessly throw their lives away for the man.

How could she gain that kind of loyalty for herself?

After several hours the king concluded the council. "I will be taking an hour to myself," he said. "Afterward, I wish to have the meeting with Matron Bulira and Sir Jora to discuss the progress made on the aqueduct. And ahh," he signaled to one of his attendants. "Wat, would you send for the representative from the stonemasons guild and the engineers?"

"Of course, my king," the servant said with a bow. Then the king stood up and all the ambassadors and advisors stood with him, Zelda included. He left the chamber and most of the councils followed him out the door.

Only Durrell took the time to come to Zelda. He bowed again, was that the fifth time or sixth? "It is an honor to be on the council with you, your Royal Highness."

"The honor is mine, Sir Durrell," she graced him with her hand.

"Oh," he kissed her ring and stepped back. "Though, I'm not a knight yet. I'm still squiring for my uncle." He frowned. "Though, I don't think I'm particularly good at all this knightly stuff. The fighting and the maintaining of equipment. I think that's why my uncle sent me as his voice here."

It was just a formality. You don't need to explain your history to me. "Perhaps he respects your intelligence?"

"Hah, I doubt that."

I do too, I was just trying to be polite. Let's hurry this along.

He stiffened up, his eyes going wide. "Not that I meant to say you were wrong. I didn't mean-"

"No offense was taken, squire Durrell." She walked past him.

However, he somehow seemed to miss that this meant the end of the conversation and followed her. "Of course, your Highness- your Royal Highness. Of course, of course. I heard you were an avid reader and I was wondering-"

"We'll speak some other time, Durrell."

Impa waited at the door. She had been talking idly with one of the guards. But by the time Zelda walked past her, the Sheikah had finished the conversation and found her place at Zelda's shoulder. Forming a wall between her and the annoying squire.

"Took you long enough," she said as they walked along the halls of the castle. "This is why I focused on spycraft instead of having to deal with these long policy debates."

"Did you find anything?" She only had an hour and if she knew her father he would be heading to his room, if she could get the information from Impa fast, perhaps she could take some time to make a quick study of the prophecies.

"More about some than others. The one called the Most-Feared deserves the title, I knew of her back in my more active days. She was never given a direct command of an entire army, to my knowledge. But she was considered the most brutal of the raiding chiefs. She killed several of the great knights of the last generation. Some in battle, at least two in duels. And some of what she did to the towns she raided. I will spare you the details, they are unpleasant."

"A queen will have to learn unpleasant details."

"You are not queen yet, my princess. And allow me to ease your mind in the little ways I still have."

"The others?"

"Rijya I do not know as well. Thankfully I have some contacts among the Gerudo who were able to give me more details about her. Her tribe is a small but well respected one. She has the reputation of being far more clever than she lets on. It is said she gained the position of Matron by tricking her older sisters into killing each other."

"How am I not surprised that these are our allies?" Zelda sighed. "A warrior and a trickster. But do you have anything on them that I can use?"

"Is this really the route you wish to take?" Impa said, she rested her hand on Zelda's shoulder, stopping her. Zelda turned and looked at her guardian eye to eye. "It is one thing to use my training to learn how to move about unseen, or to know how to effectively run from danger. But what you're asking of me, to help you find information to threaten or coerce them? That leaves a mark on your soul, my princess."

"So you won't do it for me?"

"I never said I wouldn't. I am only warning you. This is a dark path."

"Just find me the information I can use, please Impa," Zelda took a deep breath before she started walking again. "And what of the last?"

Impa sighed. "That one has proven the most difficult. She had no position in the last war. She seems to have appeared out of nowhere over the last few months. The stories I've been told sound like guesses and gossip to me. The one thing that is agreed upon is that she has some history with Ganondorf."

"Well that we can confirm, you saw how he ran to her. I would have thought her his mother."

"Oh no, she's not that. The Gerudo know well who his mothers are. I met them once, a long time ago. But that is another story I will spare you."

"So, who is she?"

"Some say she is a powerful witch, but I think those made the same mistake you made. Others that she was an elite warrior that did not take part in the wars, instead hid away to train Ganondorf in the ways of sword, spear, and bow. Still more say she is no one, just a favored servant of their king when he was young."

"A servant?" Zelda frowned. Some no one brought to speak before the king of Hyrule in his closest council of war? That did not seem particularly likely, but then, Zelda had spent much of her life around knights, and she did not have the bearings of a warrior at all. And she did not seem like Rauru or his students either. "So rumors, that is all you've been able to find for me?"

"Yes, though there is a simple way to find out more," Impa said and stopped as they reached the arches that led to the courtyard.

"Just tell me, Impa. You know I hate when you beg for a question."

Impa pointed ahead. "Go ask her."

Sitting upon the bench at the center of the courtyard sat Matron Bulira. She did not seem to notice Impa or Zelda, her focus upon the flowers of the garden, as intent as she had been at the council. As if the flowers would fly away or change if she glanced away.

"You can't be serious."

"I most certainly am. You need to extract information, this is how you do it. With conversation," the governess frowned and nodded to herself deep in memory. "This is far safer than my first attempts with a Gerudo. Even if you anger her, there's little chance she'll try and stab you in your own courtyard."

"But what if I say something wrong? What if I reveal something?"

"Don't."

"Thank you, Impa, that's incredibly helpful." But instead of responding, her guardian gave her a gentle nudge forward before turning around and walking away. Zelda frowned at Impa's back before the Sheikah rounded a corner and disappeared.

This was fine. She could do this. She was Princess Zelda, Chosen of the Goddesses. She had already outsmarted Ganondorf, she could face down one of his minions. Especially such an unimposing woman as this.

She walked to the bench. "Matron Bulira," she stepped in front of the woman. "What a pleasure to see you."

"Oh!" the little woman said. "I'm sorry, princess, do you want the bench?" she stood up.

"No, you don't have to-" but before Zelda could finish the Gerudo beckoned for Zelda to sit down before taking one of the deepest most subservient bows Zelda had ever seen. Her nose almost scraped the stones. By the Goddesses, was she a servant?

"Your Royal Highness, please, sit. Enjoy the gardens."

"There is more than enough room for two."

"I would never wish to impose, it's your palace and-"

"Sit. I insist."

The woman paused, perhaps thinking to herself if it was appropriate to refuse the order of her princess. "Thank you, your Royal Highness," she said with a forced but friendly smile. The Matron sat down then went back to watching the flowers.

Zelda, for the life of her, could not think of anything to say. She couldn't just order the woman to reveal all her machinations. Impa should have given her some instruction before throwing her to these people. "I-" she tried, and hoped some form of sentence would follow. "I was impressed with your words at the council." That sounded good. Flattery. Everyone liked to be flattered from time to time.

"Oh," Bulira said, then looked down to her feet. Zelda had known peasants who did the same, turning their eyes away from royalty as if worried simply looking would somehow tarnish them. "It was nothing."

"I think it was far from nothing, the way you handled Coroto and Ashdin was masterful."

"Thank you, but I don't think I'll be of much use at a war council. I never had the mind to grasp all the intricacies of that sort. Nor the stomach for it."

She still spoke to the ground. Which made it difficult to tell if her eyes bore any of the usual signs of lies. But her voice didn't change, she did not pause to think of how to answer. She showed no more discomfort than she had simply being in the presence of royalty. Everything about her gave Zelda the impression of fear, but not untruth. Either she was the greatest liar that Zelda had ever seen, or she truly was no warrior and had no grasp of strategies.

That removed at least one of her supposed origins.

"On the contrary, you already provided more tangible benefit to the progress of the war effort than anyone else there, except perhaps for my father, and our commanders on the field Duke Arlan and your King Dragmire."

"You truly think so?" She said as she looked to Zelda, then quickly turned her head back down. There was something in her eyes, even in that brief glimpse. Another showing of that sadness perhaps? The guilt, Zelda caught at the council meeting. "I think you left out one more name of importance, you are quite an impressive young vai."

"Thank you, many have said, but it's always nice hearing it confirmed from another."

That got the slightest smile from the old woman. "Ahh, you remind me of Gan. He was so self-confident as a child as well."

"Gan? Ganondorf?" Zelda had to focus not to change her expression. That was not a comparison she wished to draw. "Did you know Ganondorf when he was my age?"

"I knew him far earlier. Let's see, I was pregnant with Nabooru when I started working for his mothers, I think he was about two then. Yes, that's right. I met him when he was two."

That explained the familiarity. "What did you do for his mothers?"

"Everything they needed. They lived away from all the tribes of the desert in the ruins of an old stronghold. And neither of them knew a thing about cleaning, or cooking, or childcare." She shook her head. "But let's not spoil a beautiful day with such talk."

A servant. She was a servant. They had a servant sitting in their war council meetings. It was no wonder that Impa could not find anything about her. A servant directed and gave reprimands to an ambassador and a Matron of the Gerudo. It was ridiculous, unbelievable. The gall of these Gerudo, to send someone like her as a representative.

Was it intended as an insult? The one called Ashdin certainly felt like one as well. And Ashdin listened to her. That was most perplexing of all. If Bulira was meant as a joke, why would her words sway any of her fellow Matrons?

But if there was an insult in Bulira's presence, Zelda could not help but feel that the cruelty of the joke fell more on other's shoulders than the little woman that sat beside her. She seemed more lost in thought and scared than vindictive.

But she was still Ganondorf's minion.

"Do you enjoy the garden?" Zelda tried to continue some form of conversation.

"Certainly, but I have always loved a pretty flower. The desert has few, when they do bloom it's beautiful, but it's always brief. And if you aren't prepared, you'll miss them. It's a sad year when you miss a desert bloom. But these plants you have, flowers that blossom for weeks and months at a time? How wonderful to live among such beauty."

"Would you like to walk through them?"

"Ahh, sadly no. When I first arrived, I went through and smelling them all. Such wonderful aromas and beauty. But the next day I woke with rashes and a runny nose, and oh, sorry, your highness. I won't bore you with the details of the aches and pains of an old woman. But I'm content just getting to glimpse the beauty of Hyrule. I'll leave it for others to live and walk among it."

There was a profound melancholy around the woman, but a bit of pride too perhaps? It was hard for Zelda to put into words what she saw in her. It wasn't pride like she was used to. A knight may bow before a king, but they do not scrape and grovel.

"That's enough from the silly old vai," she said and smiled to Zelda. "I'm sure you didn't just come to listen to me."

"You'd be surprised, that's exactly why I came to sit with you." Of course, you don't need to know it's to thwart whatever it is you and your master are planning. "You're something of an enigma."

"I'm sorry, I am not fully fluent in Hylian. What am I?"

"A mystery."

"Ahh,' Bulira just shook her head. "If you say so, your highness. I think you'll find there's not all that much mystery to me."

"You were a servant, and you just sat through a meeting of some of the most powerful people in the world. And then you chided two of them into submission. That's quite an accomplishment for someone."

"Ahh, but that is an accomplishment made on the backs of others. My daughter grew up to become a great woman," she smiled as her eyes wandered past the gardens to some distant memory. "She used to chase after Gan, always pushing herself to keep up. Two years younger and demanding he teach her to fight. That he never went easy on her. And when his mothers came they stood together against," her smile withered and she looked back to Zelda. "I'm proud of them both."

"You seem it, I did not know Lady Nabooru well, even when she stayed here for months."

"Little surprise that, I understand you were locked away for some time when Ganondorf visited."

"You… you heard of that?"

"Oh yes, the desert is not so far away that we don't hear the princess we have sworn our lives to, hated and dishonored our king."

Now it was Zelda's turn to look away. She had been so foolish; it was hard to think that her mistakes were only a few months past and not several years. She had acted as a child. Accomplishing nothing and revealing everything she had to her enemy in a single conversation.

"I am sorry, it was… it was unbecoming of a princess how I acted. Believe me, I bear neither you nor your king any further ill-will. In fact, I wish most sincerely to mend any rift between our peoples that I may have inadvertently caused."

"Hmm," Bulira smiled. "That's nice." She didn't believe Zelda, that was obvious just from the tone of her voice. "Well now, I think it's about time to head back to the King's council. I don't know any more about aqueducts than I do about war, but my king gave me a task."

"Don't we have more time?" Zelda looked across the courtyard to the decorative sundial, they still had a quarter hour until her father asked for their presence.

"One should always be a little early when asked by their host, especially when that host is a king." She truly was a peasant, wasn't she?

"I suppose, we can walk to the council chamber together."

"That would please me very much."

Zelda slid off the bench, and Bulira pushed herself to her feet. The old woman walked slow. So incredibly slow. No, keep calm. I need to keep her happy, Zelda said to herself as they took what could only be called a leisurely stroll. Which may have been interesting to Bulira, but for Zelda she was surrounded by things she had seen a thousand times or more.

"Such beauty," Bulira said as they passed one of her father's frescos. A wall showing Hylia casting out the evils of the world while the Golden Three watched from over them all.

"Was there anything beautiful from your time raising Ganondorf? Other than the flowers I mean."

"Oh, many things," Bulira said. "Watching the children play after a hard day's work. And of all the gifts his mothers gave him, music was possibly his favorite. One of the few remaining rooms of the stronghold still in one piece was a chapel, and the Twinrova taught him how to play the organ."

"Really?"

"Oh yes," Bulira said. "They were quite adamant that he learns how to play music. And he took to it. Often I'd hear him trying to compose his own pieces, while my daughter sang alongside him."

She talked about her daughter and Ganondorf the entire time they traveled to the council room. Every story she had about beauty in the desert always went back to those two. And while they waited alone in the room until the others her father had called joined them, she told more stories about the two children. Only when the king arrived did she stop. "I'm sorry, your Royal Highness. I wasted all your time with my blathering."

"Not at all, I greatly enjoyed your stories. We must take time to greet each other more."

And their conversation had been edifying. Without meaning to, Matron Bulira answered a question Zelda did not know how to ask. A simple answer, as it turned out. How did Ganondorf inspire such loyalty? They loved him. They loved him so much that the great would listen to a servant that he gave his favor without complaint. The Most-Feared would get herself killed for a slight against him, because that was how a brute like her showed love.

They all loved him because they all must be fooled that he loves them in return. Or, more terrifying still, did he love them? It was hard for her to think of him in such terms. He loved his people, and they returned that love so strong they would face certain death for him. They would follow him to the tomb of Demise itself.

Her father called the meeting to order, and immediately Sir Jora stood up and began recounting how many rupees were spent simply on finding the proper stone for the project. But Zelda only half listened, she kept glancing at Matron Bulira.

Could she even gain that loyalty? Maybe with Impa? There were a few of her father's advisors she liked more than others. But did she love them? Did they love her? Or just find her the difficult child they needed to listen to?

Zelda slumped down into her chair, the image of the perfect little princess lost.