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Chapter Text

From the diary of Lady Zelda Bosphoramus:

We uncovered some ancient technology that we believe may have the power to control the Guidance Stone. It is a rectangular object, small enough to be held in my two hands. Sheikah text is featured prominently on it. Cousin Purah proposed that I hold on to it for now. I hope that it leads to some new developments in our research.

Zelda allowed the ink to dry then snapped her journal shut. She stared at the rectangular slate before her, willing it to reveal its secrets. The back of it was raised and embossed with the symbol of an eye topped with three small triangles, with something like a teardrop descending from the eye. The eye stared back at her, it’s blue iris unblinking. The symbol she had seen before on other sheikah artifacts, but its meaning was lost to time. She gripped the slate by its handle and turned it around, but the flat black surface on the other side yielded no answers.

But she was excited about learning everything she could about it. Zelda’s cousins Robbie and Purah had left it with her after their last visit, but so far she had not made much progress. She hoped she would have something to show for it when next she visited them. Distant relations of her mother, Purah and Robbie had always been willing and encouraging participants in Zelda’s scientific explorations. They had recently been uncovering many ancient Sheikah artifacts and had eagerly reached out to Zelda for her assistance. She knew her father wouldn’t approve, however, so Zelda had kept their correspondence and any artifacts they had sent her mostly a secret.

Upon hearing a knock at her door, she quickly tucked the slate beneath her journal and turned expectantly.

“Come in!” she called.

“My dear! Good afternoon! See what has arrived for you from Lady Urbosa,” Lord Rhoam called as he burst into her room followed by a maid with a large box.

“Oh? Indeed?” Zelda said eagerly as she went to open the box. Her godmother often sent the most intriguing gifts from the distant Gerudo province. What could it be? A delicate clockwork figurine like the ones she’d spied that day at the Kara Kara Bazaar years ago? A new set of archaeological tools? Books on Gerudo mythology?

She lifted the lid off the box to reveal an expanse of deep blue silk covered with intricate embroidered floral designs, silent princesses and blue nightshade picked out in shining thread and gleaming beadwork.

“It’s … a ball gown?” Zelda said, struggling to mask her disappointment. She gently pulled it out of its tissue paper nest to reveal short, puffed sleeves made in a matching sheer fabric, more floral embroidery around the low, round neckline, this time of cool safflina and swift violets. An intricate line of beading ran along the high waistline. Despite all of the embroidery and beading, the dress was light and seemed airy, perfect for a summertime ball.

“How wonderful!” he boomed. “The perfect gown to wear to Princess Mipha’s ball next month! All of the eligible gentlemen of Hyrule will be there.”

Zelda repressed a sigh. She hated balls and only went to them when pressed by her father, which had become an obsession of his once her 20th birthday came and went and she remained unattached. She was eager to see her dear friend Mipha, but wished she could do so anywhere but at a ball. But her father would not be discouraged. She forcefully stretched a smile over her face.

“How ... wonderful, father.” He beamed at her in delight before turning and following the maid out of her room.

Once he left, Zelda placed the gown back in its box. It was beautiful, but elegant designs and the whims of fashion were not counted among her interests. More useful to her were practical gowns that washed easily and had plenty of deep pockets for her to stash notebooks and specimen bottles. She was distressed at the thought that Godmother Urbosa, of all people, would be in league with Zelda’s father in his schemes to get her married. Urbosa most of all should understand Zelda’s desire to be left alone to pursue her own interests, rather than shackling herself to managing some lord’s household as his wife. In Urbosa’s matriarchal Gerudo, women had the freedom to live as they pleased, married or not. Oh, if only Zelda had been born a Gerudo!

As she went to replace the lid on the box, Zelda spied a folded piece of paper poking out of the tissue that lined the bottom. As she unfolded it she saw her godmother’s flowing script in a few lines:

“To my Little Bird,
May the goddesses find you well. I pray that you can find your wings and fly.”

Zelda hoped some day she could.

The next day dawned bright and beautiful, with warm sunshine and gentle breezes encouraging the wildlife of Hyrule to emerge from their dens. Warm darners and summerwing butterflies flit through the air and hightail lizards skittered from her path as Zelda walked home from her visit to the small village near the estate. She had told her father she was off to search for new gloves and ribbons to prepare for the ball and he was more than happy to send her off, gratified at her enthusiasm for the upcoming event. What she didn’t tell him is that she also planned to pick up some new specimen bottles and some new tools for her experiments. While the man who ran the village general store might find her a bit strange, he always made sure to have a few scientific items on hand for her.

As she walked, Zelda considered her plan for the summer. Her father was becoming increasingly frustrated with her bluestocking nature, and she was concerned he might prevent her from pursuing her studies in favor of focusing on suitors and balls. “No man wants a wife who has her nose in a book at all times!” he’d tell her. She didn’t tell him that was why she was so uninterested in pursuing a husband. Research and study and science were her true loves, and she didn’t want to hide that part of her away just so she could be married to a man who wouldn’t appreciate her for who she was. And in her limited experience with young men, she found that most of them did not share her interests and would move on to more charming company as soon as they could.

However, she knew at some point that decision would be taken out of her hands. Her beloved family estate, Lanayru, would be lost to them forever if her father were to pass before she was married. Zelda was Lord Rhoam’s only child, and she could not inherit the estate unless she were married. Otherwise it would revert to the state to be distributed to some other lord. All of her family’s history and heirlooms would be lost, and she would have limited means of support. It seemed either way she was destined to give up the scientific pursuits that she loved so well. She supposed she could live with Robbie and Purah at their small cottage, if she could clear one of the rooms of the piles of specimen jars, mechanical oddments and pieces of Sheikah artifacts. But as much as she loved her cousins, she found no pleasure in that idea.

Despite her trepidation at the thought of having to give up part of herself in order to marry, she did like the idea of a husband and being mistress of her own home. Of being somewhat in charge of her own destiny instead of having to submit to the wishes of her father. She just hoped that marriage could be based on love and not convenience. And she did not feel that the balls, concerts and other social activities of the social season in Castle Town were the best way to make a love match. She just wasn’t sure what the better way was.

She knew that if she didn’t choose a husband for herself, at some point, her father would choose for her. Zelda knew that her father acted out of love, that he was in torment at the thought that she might lose her home and have to live in reduced circumstances were he to die before she found a suitable match. She only wished he could see things from her perspective, and respect her interests as a vital part of who she was as a person, rather than as a distraction from her status as a potential wife. To let her find a husband her own way, instead of forcing her into the shallow pursuits of society. But every year he became more frantic on her behalf, insistent that the older she got, the harder it would be to attract a man into marriage.

She was pulled from her gloomy thoughts by the sounds of frogs chirping from a nearby pond. It seemed as if all of Hyrule’s creatures were enthusiastic in their celebration of the first true spring day. Zelda left the path and carefully made her way around the pond to where it seemed the frogs were congregating. Recent rains had led to a riotous tangle of greenery, lush grasses and waving reeds creating a concealing screen around the water. She found a reasonably dry spot to set her basket down, and fished out one of her new specimen jars, stocking her pocket with the jar as well as a pencil and a label. There was no point in collecting samples if she wasn’t going to accurately take note of their nature and location!

She was excited to collect whatever frogs she was able to capture. She had read that secretions from hot footed frogs could be mixed with monster parts and other materials to create elixirs that enhanced one’s speed, while secretions from tireless frogs prepared in a similar manner could revive the body and provide one with renewed energy and spirit. She was eager to experiment with whatever she could find.

Zelda gathered up the skirt of her light pink dress, tying it in a secure knot above her knees. The dress was one of her favorites, the fabric soft and comfortable from many washings, but still of a quality that she would not shame herself wearing it for a shopping trip into the nearby village. It was her best dress to wear when she planned to attempt some sneaky specimen collection, if she was careful to keep it dry and clean so as to not have to explain herself to her father when she returned home. She removed her boots and stockings and carefully waded into the water, stalking the frogs she could see just under the water’s surface a few feet from past the bed of reeds that ringed the shoreline.

She had just emerged from the reeds and begun to carefully make her way toward the frogs when suddenly a large rock flew over her head, crashing into the water not far from where she stood. Water, mud and decaying vegetable matter geysered up from where the rock splashed down in the shallow waters, soaking her back from head to toe and festooning her hair and dress with sticks, dead leaves and clumps of soft, silty mud.

An octorock! Oh, how could she have been so foolish as to not notice the sprout of river plants in the center of the pond that heralded the hidden presence of the loathsome creature? She ducked as the monster puffed up and rose from the pond, hovering a moment before it sent another boulder sailing toward her and into the water, too close for her to be assured that it wouldn’t hit her the next time.

Zelda was no flighty miss to faint at the first sight of danger. All thoughts of frogs fled her mind as she scanned the pond for a safe place to hide. She knew running for the shore was sure to result in giving the octorock a better view of its target; her only option was to creep in closer and attempt to hide until it gave up. But she had to work fast as an octorock would only perfect its aim the more boulders it shot her way.

Spying a stand of reeds surrounding a large boulder sunk in the water a few feet in front of her, Zelda began to creep forward, hoping she was moving slowly enough for the octorock to lose sight of her and give her time to come up with a plan of action. She was halfway to the reeds when the monster launched another boulder, and she crouched down just in time to avoid it smashing into her head. That was too close! The creature’s persistence began to make her nervous, afraid that even the stand of reeds would not be enough to hide her from its notice.

Zelda was nearly to the boulder and the shelter of the reeds when the octorock rose from the water once again — this time looking straight at her. It’s body began to swell as it sucked in the air to launch a third boulder right at her, one that this time she wasn’t sure would miss. She made a desperate push to make it to the safety of the boulder when suddenly her foot slipped, and she fell to her knees in the soft, sucking mud at the bottom of the pond. She scrambled to find purchase in the slippery muck, the octorock having paused in its inhalation, Zelda square in its sights as it prepared to launch its rock her way.

Suddenly a shot rang out, shattering the quiet of the country afternoon. Zelda jumped at the sound, finally scrambling to her feet to stand in shock as the octorock deflated and collapsed into a puff of purple smoke, leaving several tentacles and an air bladder behind in the water.

Zelda slowly turned and peered over the reeds at the road to behold her rescuer. A gentleman sat on a fine chestnut horse, his double barreled flintlock pistol at the ready in case of a renewed attack from the monster. Zelda was impressed, that was quite the remarkable shot from that distance. Upon seeing her rise from behind the reeds, the man stared at her in surprise for a moment before holstering the pistol and dismounting to come toward her.

Zelda began to wade her way out of the pond, then glanced down as the hem of her dress, now black with mud from the knees down, tangled wetly between her knees. So much for keeping her dress dry. She took a moment to try and rinse as much of the mud off as she could in the water of the pond before giving it up for a lost cause, glancing up to see the gentleman patiently awaiting her, his gloved hand extended to assist her through the slick mud and silt at the shore.

“Miss, are you well?” he asked, his voice low and quiet. She took his proffered hand, leaving black streaks of mud on his fine leather riding gloves. She looked him over curiously as he led her out of the pond and onto the grass. He stood not much taller than she, with sandy blond hair worn unfashionably long and tied back at his neck with a blue ribbon. Startlingly blue eyes looked her over from beneath a fine beaver hat. He wore a dark fitted frock coat and spotless white breeches, his boots shining despite the road dust.

“I … yes, I am quite well, I thank you,” Zelda stuttered.

“I saw the octorock inflating to make a shot and knew it must have some unfortunate individual in its sights,” he said, collecting her basket and leading her toward the road. “I didn’t expect …”

He didn’t expect to find a mud caked young lady. She looked at his handsome face and tailored finery pulled in contrast to her own state. Zelda was soaked with pond water, her back covered in plant detritus and her golden blonde locks dark with mud and dirt. Black mud from the bottom of the pond caked her feet and smears of dirt adorned her face. She felt her cheeks begin to heat in embarrassment. She could only imagine what he must think of her.

“I was hoping to catch one of the frogs,” she said abruptly, feeling the need to explain herself. “I have read they can be made into an elixir to increase one’s speed, or perhaps renew one’s stamina! It’s quite fascinating, I simply must try it. But in my eagerness I did not look to ensure the pond was free from monsters.”

She stopped short as she remembered the octorock’s remains left floating in the pond.

“Oh! The octorock parts will add to the potency of any elixir I make! It’s quite fortuitous that you came by!” Zelda turned to head back to the pond. “I cannot leave them behind!”

She paused at the shore of the pond. The water was shallow and she was sure she could wade out far enough to gather the valuable monster parts. And considering the amount of mud and water that already coated her dress and person, another trip into the water couldn’t make it much worse.

“Wait!” The gentleman caught up to her at the pond’s edge, placing his hand on her arm to stop her from wading into the water. She looked at his hand in surprise, and he snatched it back from her arm as if her touch burned. Zelda felt shame flare up in her chest as she again remembered her bedraggled appearance; he must think her unladylike behavior disgusting. She was grateful he was no one she knew; she couldn’t imagine how much damage to her social standing this would cause were he an acquaintance. But that all was forgotten when he bent down and began to remove his boots and stockings.

“Please, allow me,” he said. She watched, wide-eyed, as he waded into the water, his fine breeches soaking up the muddy pond water, quickly staining the white fabric a dull brown. He gathered the slimy octorock parts, marking his coat with monster ooze and pond scum, and returned to her at the shore, looking at her expectantly.

“Oh, thank you!” she said, reaching out to collect the monster parts from him.

He looked amused. “Perhaps there is room in your basket?”

Her bizarre morning was leaving her feeling flustered, and she made a heroic effort to gather her scattered thoughts. “Oh, yes, of course!” she said with a breathy laugh, attempting to pull herself together and present herself as a rational being.

She grabbed her basket and quickly shoved its contents aside to make room, spreading her handkerchief on the bottom in an attempt to protect her purchases. He raised an eyebrow at the odd assortment, tissue wrapped parcels disguising elegant gloves and ribbons mixed with corked bottles and jars and pincers and scalpels, but he made no comment. He gently placed the octorock pieces in the basket and pulled the edges of the handkerchief around them.

Distracted again by what he placed in the basket, she gave one of the purple organs an experimental poke. “I have read that the air bladder of an octorock can be inflated and used to lift heavy objects into the air,” she said. “I think that could have many uses, perhaps lifting large rocks and tree stumps to clear land for farm work. Of course I would need to conduct experiments with different objects of various weights …”

She broke off her musing as she glanced up to find herself under the scrutiny of those blue eyes again. She grew flustered again under his gaze, his eyebrows raised at her in … surprise? Amusement? Alarm? She wasn’t sure. Zelda quickly looked away from him, feeling a distinct desire to hide, turning her eyes to the ground. She then noticed the water dripping from his fine clothes. Now she’d made a mess of him, too. Embarrassed, she pulled a handkerchief from her pocket and thrust it at him, pressing it into his hand. Zelda’s maid knew her habits well by now and always made sure her pockets were stocked with several handkerchiefs, all embroidered in the corner with her initials.

“Oh no, your clothes! You’re all wet! Please, accept my handkerchief, and my thanks, for your assistance today,” she said in a rush. She was nearing the limit of her tolerance for the increasingly odd events of the afternoon and escaping for home became all she could think of. She quickly gathered her stockings and boots and stuffed them in her basket. “But I must be going!”

She scurried off, angling away through the road and deciding to cut through the fields instead. She stumbled through the brush, wanting to run but instead maintaining a speedy walk in an attempt to maintain some of her dignity. She would not literally run away from him. He called after her to wait, but she pretended to not hear him and continued her dash for home. She felt awash in shame and humiliation, cursing the rude octorock and its mud spitting boulders and herself for her awkward ways.

As she fled she realized she had never asked his name, never introduced herself. She was uncertain whether she should be embarrassed or relieved at the realization. Because if the goddesses cared for her at all, she would never see him again and the matter could be behind her forever.

Chapter Text

Zelda snuck in through the kitchens in order to avoid being discovered by her father. The kitchen staff gawked at her muddy dress and bare feet, but were not surprised. Zelda had never been very ladylike, much to her father’s dismay, and she often attempted to evade his notice by entering through the kitchens and taking the servant’s stairs to her room, and the staff had gotten used to seeing her dirt and grass stained appearance. As she got older she took greater care while specimen hunting, however she didn't always emerge from her discoveries unscathed.

She had successfully made it up the back stairs and had nearly made it into her room, hand poised to turn the doorknob, when her father suddenly rounded the corner from the main stairs. She froze, steeling herself for his inevitable censure.

“Ah, Zelda, there you are!” he said. He stopped short, finally having gotten a good look at her, the genial look on his face quickly shifting to one of shock and dismay. “What in Hylia’s name happened? Just look at the state of you!”

“Good afternoon, Father,” Zelda said, desperately trying to pretend nothing was awry. After the morning she had, an argument with her father was the last thing she wanted.

“Good afternoon?! You look like you fell in a pond!” he said, disapproval threaded through every word.

“Ahhh well …” again she felt her cheeks flush in embarrassment. An argument was not to be avoided, it seemed. But she supposed the day couldn’t get any worse by this point. Keeping her mind on the octorock pieces waiting in her basket and determinedly away from sandy haired gentlemen with blue eyes had been the only thing that had kept her from dissolving into despair after the events at the pond, and she latched back on to those thoughts to carry her through this moment.

“I was walking about the pond near the woods when an octorock surprised me,” Zelda said, unwilling to lie to her father but also unwilling to give too much detail. “I’m afraid I was so surprised that I lost my balance and fell into some mud. Thankfully a kind gentleman came to my rescue!” She knew he’d see right through her story, but she threw in the last bit in a desperate bid to prevent her father from taking too close a look and asking too many questions. It almost worked, the prospect of her having encountered any gentleman worthy of mentioning enough to momentarily turn Lord Rhoam’s thoughts from his daughter’s bedraggled looks.

“A gentleman, eh? Surely he escorted you home after such an encounter … but the servants did not announce a visitor,” Lord Rhoam mused. “What was the gentleman’s name?”

Her father regarded her suspiciously, his interest at the news of a gentleman beginning to curdle as he realized the rules of propriety may have been overlooked. Zelda felt nervous. She knew the final straw supporting her father’s patience was beginning to bend and she feared the events of this morning would be the ones to cause it to finally snap. But she still felt unsettled from her encounter, unable to shake the image of her mud-streaked hand in the grasp of the gentleman’s clean white glove, her muddy feet next to his shining leather boots, and her mouth seemed to begin moving without waiting for her brain to catch up.

“Um, well, I may have forgotten to enquire after his name in my haste to bring these octorock parts home after he was so kind to fetch them for me from the pond.” What was she saying? Zelda bit her lip, wishing she could reel back time a bit and say something less scandalous. Why had the goddesses cursed her with such an overactive tongue when she was nervous? She had been so anxious to escape home, only to run right into another predicament.

Zelda held her breath as her father’s face began to redden and he swelled with indignation.

“Forgot?! Octorock parts! Fetched?!” he sputtered, throwing his hands into the air. “Zelda, that is enough! I have had it with you coming home covered in dirt and looking like a beggar. And now you’ve shamed yourself before this mysterious gentleman!”

“But father!” she began, desperate to present the situation in a less egregious manner, but she wasn’t given the chance.

“I will not have it! These experiments of yours are to cease. No more monster parts, no more broken Sheikah machines, no more vermin in my home! This is why you are not married by now! You spend more time on your so-called science research than you do on finding a husband!”

She wanted to argue. Vermin?! Frogs were valuable specimens! But they were slippery and sometimes hopped into the dining room during dinner parties. And she did regret that time she had dropped a jar full of crickets in the kitchen and they couldn’t clear the infestation for months. Sometimes you could still hear them chirping in the quiet of the night. And frankly what wouldn’t be broken after being buried underground for 10,000 years? Those Sheikah artifacts were part of Hyrule’s history!

But it was the slight against her research that hurt the most. It wasn’t simply a vanity project for her, she wanted to help people with her elixirs and mechanical designs. But her father never did understand that, viewing her research as a distraction from more ladylike pursuits like sketching and embroidery and music. But she was just as proficient in those areas as she was in her research, as the sketches in her research notes and the framed embroidery samples of ancient Zonai designs would prove. She’d even once given a performance on the harp of music from Hyrule’s past, many of the songs rumored to have magical properties. But since it wasn’t basic floral designs and current popular songs on the piano forte, he didn’t seem to think it counted.

At the end of it, she never could muster her courage in the face of her father’s displeasure. She knew he loved her and only wanted what was best for her, but she never felt like he really could see her for who she was. Ever since her mother had died when she was small, it felt like he had been trying to force Zelda into an increasingly smaller box, bound on all sides by his ideals of propriety. And until she married and assumed her own household, he would have the power to do so.

“Father, I …” she began. But she didn’t know what to say, her arguments dying in her throat. She knew he would not listen. Zelda could feel tears begin to rise up, but she swallowed them down against the lump forming in her throat. She refused to cry. She was not in the wrong here. Why did he refuse to understand her? Why must he take away the one thing she loves above all else?

“No. No more. We must only hope that word of your scandalous behavior reaches no further than the pond. Perhaps it is for the best no introductions were made! I cannot imagine the social impact of your snubbing a gentlemen after he was so good to come to your rescue!”

“I didn’t snub him! It was a mistake!” she cried, a bit childishly. Her father’s scolding made her feel small, like a naughty child and not like the young lady of 20 years that she was. She hated that she couldn't seem to help but respond in kind.

Her father continued his rant as if she hadn’t spoken.

“From now on you are to focus on finding a husband. I have indulged you for far too long. You are to attend every ball, dinner and concert you are invited to, and you will not bore your company with talk of science,” he declared. “I will send servants to clean that mess out of your room and to prepare a bath for you to clean yourself. We have an important guest for dinner tonight and I expect you to arrive the picture of a lady befitting the name of Bosphoramus. You will not embarrass yourself a second time.”

With that, he turned away and went back down the stairs. Zelda wilted against her door, feeling her tears of anger and frustration rising up again. And again, she stuffed them back down. Heaving a deep breath, she entered her room. She would not allow this to crush her down.

She looked about at the homey clutter. In lieu of a true laboratory, she had done the best she could in her room. Neat rows of labeled specimen jars and bottles, stacks of journals and research notes filled with her careful handwriting and detailed sketches, piles of books she had borrowed and bought on everything from developments in elixirs, to modern crop rotation techniques, to popular embroidery patterns of Kakariko village. The Sheikah Slate took pride of place on her desk, sitting in a space temporarily cleared of ancient fragments, miniature mechanical engineering models and experimental ship designs.

She knew she must act fast if she was to preserve a few of her research materials in order to keep from going mad with boredom. She could already hear the servants her father sent to clear her room coming up the back stairs. She snatched the Sheikah slate from her desk, and shoved it and a few of her books well under her bed. Then she gathered as many of her papers as she could and stuffed them under the bed beside the slate. It would just have to do.

After a knock, a train of servants entered, each bearing a crate or sack, and they began to pack up her things. She sat on her bed and dejectedly watched them take her books, research notes and specimens, grateful for the careful attention they paid to their packing, smiling sadly in response to the apologetic glances they shot her way. Most of their servants had been with her family for years, just like their parents and grandparents had. Their housekeeper Impa had been like a mother to Zelda once her own had died, raising her alongside her granddaughter Paya, who now worked as Zelda’s lady’s maid. So while they still followed her father’s orders, she could tell many of them were sympathetic to her plight.

While she watched the packing and clearing, Zelda reflected how much of her fate was also tied up with those of the servants and their families. If they lost the house because she was unable to make a suitable match and marry, the servants would lose their jobs, and, for many of them, the only home they had ever known. She was sure that with her family’s recommendations they would go on to easily find other work, but it wasn’t fair to expect them to disrupt their whole lives because she was too dedicated to the dream of finding a love match. She felt the shame she had repressed rise up again. She had been too focused on her own wants to think about the people that relied on her, and the duty she had to support them. She still believed she had plenty of time to find a husband and that her father was being overly dramatic in many ways, but she realized she would need to take the business of finding a suitor much more seriously. She sighed. The pressure of it all was beginning to feel overwhelming.

Once the servants had cleared the room of her research odds and ends, another team of servants entered, lugging in a large bathtub and beginning the laborious process of filling it with buckets of hot water from the kitchens. Once they were finished, Paya entered to assist her in removing her ruined gown, and to comb the worst of the pond mess out of her hair. Paya was the closest thing Zelda had to a friend; patiently mending the tears Zelda put in her gowns in pursuit of a new specimen; listening with interest, real or feigned, to Zelda’s gushing reports on the latest science journal she was able to read; and providing a shoulder to cry on and quiet words of encouragement at Zelda’s frustrations at finding a suitor to make her father happy. Paya gently squeezed Zelda’s hand in silent support, and Zelda smiled back at the girl, feeling a fresh wave of guilt for the extra work her muddy afternoon had made for her and the rest of the staff.

Perhaps her father was right, and it was time to put her research and experiments aside. Even though her theories and experiments were aimed at helping people, creating machines that could aid in farming and other industries, elixirs that could lend strength to the weak, or heal the sick, she had to be honest with herself. She never focused on one thing long enough to reach a solid conclusion, often distracted by the next rare insect she found, or the latest artifact she discovered. Perhaps all she really did was create messes others had to clean up, and let them down when she didn’t focus on the one thing she needed to: finding a suitable husband.

Muddy clothing removed and the worst of the mess combed out of her hair, Zelda climbed into the tub and sank into the hot water, grimacing as she picked out the remaining sticks and rotted leaves Paya’s comb had missed. She gave a deep sigh. She knew her looks were not to blame for her lack of suitors. She had received many compliments on her large green eyes, and her masses of golden hair. Her dowry was ample as well, as the sole heir to her father’s and her mother’s estates. Despite that, Zelda had no beaux, no admirers. She supposed most gentlemen would not want to court a strange girl who frequently smelled of oil and the acrid smoke of failed experiments. Who wanted to spend time with a girl who prattled on about insects and the latest discoveries in technology? Who wanted to be seen with a girl whose dresses frequently sported dirt and grass stains from her ramblings about the country searching for new specimens? None of the eligible men of her acquaintance, that was for certain.

She wished again her mother was alive. She had died when Zelda was very young, and her father had largely left her upbringing to his staff. Impa had been a wonderful caretaker, loving and firm when she needed to be, but she simply wasn’t able to guide Zelda in the finer points of life as a lady of quality, or prepare her for courting and matchmaking. Perhaps her father thought she would naturally fall into the lifestyle of a lady, instead of pursuing her true interests, most of which were considered as unbecoming of a lady. Zelda didn’t remember much of her mother, and so, having no memories to compete against, she created a fantasy mother, who sympathized with her daughter’s interests, who understood and facilitated her desire for a love match, who provided the kind of support Zelda didn’t feel her father could provide.

The stress of her need to find a suitor and the argument with her father turned in her mind as she was careful to scrub the mud out of her skin and dig it out from under her nails. Thoughts of her mother made her think — she may not have her mother any longer, but she did have the next best thing. Godmother Urbosa had been close friends with her mother, and had cared for Zelda for a time after her mother had died. The ball her father was so eager for Zelda to attend served as the unofficial beginning of the social season in Castle Town, when people of the noble and genteel classes would gather in the city for socializing, merry making, and most importantly, matchmaking: Young men in search of a wife to run their households, mamas hoping to catch a wealthy gentleman for their daughters, and young ladies hoping to find love.

Perhaps some time away from her father and Lanayru was in order. She did not think she could tolerate an entire summer at home without her research — a distraction was in order, and what better to occupy her and satisfy her father than spending the season in Castle Town? Urbosa had a townhome there; Zelda wondered if she might convince her to come to town and act as chaperone? She would write to Urbosa as soon as she had the chance. Zelda was pleased with her scheme: As much as she held a distaste for the more vapid aspects of the social season, Zelda was craving Urbosa’s motherly presence, and her sharp wit, endless connections, and sense of fun would certainly guarantee an interesting summer.

She wondered what kind of gentlemen she would meet in Castle Town. Many of them she had known for years and had already crossed them off her list of potential matches. But there was always someone new visiting the city for the first time, or making their debut, or bringing in a cousin from a distant land. Was a love match truly such a distant dream? The city was full of chance and opportunity no matter where you were. You never knew who you could meet, even when you weren’t trying. She could run into her future husband anywhere — at a ball, in a shop, on the street … or by a pond.

Her treacherous mind returned to the gentleman who had come to her rescue, his blue eyes, his good looks, and his kindness. For a moment Zelda wished she had gotten his name, and had given him her own; but no, she could not face him again after making such a scene as she had this morning. And she had to admit she knew nothing at all about him, not his name, or where he lived, or anything. He could already be married! She certainly couldn’t ask around about him without revealing her escapade in the pond. But … he really had been quite handsome. And a bit heroic. She thought of how he’d waded into the water to gather monster parts with no hesitation or complaints. She thought of how his wet trousers had clung to his … well. That was enough of that.

At last she had scrubbed away the last of the dirt and clinging mud from the pond, and stood to get out of the bath and begin the process of dressing for dinner. Zelda doubted such a fine gentleman as that would be interested in seeing the mud-soaked girl he’d found in a pond again, no matter how kind he’d been to her. She shook her head in an attempt to clear her thoughts, and grabbed a towel to begin drying off before calling Paya back in to help her dress.

She had to put the morning’s events out of her mind and forget about him. Truly, her chances of encountering him again were small, and it wasn’t worth her energy to fixate on him when she had so much more to plan for. She needed to focus on being the charming company her father desired for his guest at dinner tonight so that he would be accepting of her plans for the summer. She wondered who the guest could be, and why her father chose to not tell her.

An alarming thought occurred to her — what if it was the mysterious gentleman? But no, that was too ridiculous, she could not imagine her father having a connection to such a fashionable young man as that. It was likely some old friend of his he had been too upset to disclose at the time. Zelda was sure she had nothing to worry about.

Chapter Text

Her bath finished, Zelda combed her hair dry while the servants cleared the water and tub from her room. Paya came in and laid out Zelda’s undergarments and the dress she had chosen for Zelda to wear to dinner that evening.

Zelda didn’t care much for fashion, but Paya did. She had quite the collection of the latest fashion magazines depicting fashionable dresses, hat trimmings and hair styles, many dog-eared and bookmarked. Zelda was usually in too much of a hurry in the mornings to spend too much time dressing, and most of her activities required sturdy, practical dresses and simple, secure hairstyles. She often wondered if Paya was frustrated that she didn’t get the chance to try out some of the techniques she learned. So today she told Paya she was free to dress Zelda as she liked, and to create whichever hairstyle she wanted, offering her maid the chance to indulge in her fashion fantasies as an apology for the extra work her muddy appearance earlier had created. And she should look her best this evening in an attempt to smooth things a bit with her father.

“Paya, do you know who tonight’s guest is?” Zelda asked her maid. As the housekeeper’s granddaughter, Paya always knew what was going on behind the scenes.

“Oh yes, my lady! It’s Lord Ganon, all the way from Gerudo!” Paya said with a smile, the girl intrigued at the idea of a visitor from so far away. Lord Ganon! Zelda didn’t know what to think of this revelation, but couldn’t help the unease that began to curl through her. She had never met him, but she had heard her godmother speak of him before. Little of what Urbosa had to say of Ganon was complimentary. 

It wasn’t long before Zelda was dressed, Paya having styled Zelda’s hair into an upswept fountain of curls held back by a ribbon that matched her dress.  Zelda made her way to the sitting room to join her father before dinner. Lord Ganon had not yet arrived and she was glad to get a chance to speak with her father first.

“Ah, my dear, excellent. You look lovely,” Lord Rhoam greeted her, his pleased smile letting her know she was somewhat back in his good graces. “Let's do our best tonight and make a good impression! Lord Ganon is joining us for dinner and he has traveled all this way just to see you!”

This was shocking news. Zelda had assumed Ganon came to discuss business with her father, which had been surprising enough. But to discover he had come all this way to see her, when they’d never met? Zelda’s unease solidified, sitting like a stone in her middle. 

“Me, Father? Why, whatever for?” 

In Gerudo, property was inherited through the maternal line and normally would pass to the closest female relative. But Ganon had inherited his estate from his mother through a rare loophole, many of the heirs who would have superseded him dying in a series of mysterious and unfortunate accidents. He was handsome and urbane, fond of luxury and the pleasures and excitement of city life. And he was at least 15 years older than Zelda. What interest could such a man have in a studious girl who preferred the outdoors to the inside of a ballroom?

Instead of responding her father only smiled indulgently and winked — winked! — at her as he turned to peer out the window, the sound of wheels on the drive heralding Lord Ganon’s arrival. Zelda fidgeted with her jewelry as they awaited the butler to announce Ganon’s arrival.

Zelda had to admit that Lord Ganon had a presence . He was enormously tall, taller even than her father, and broad shouldered, his muscular form straining the expensive fabric of his fashionable suit coat. He swept in and seemed to fill up the entire room, the golden eyes that gleamed beneath heavy red brows seeming to see everything. Her father introduced them, and Ganon loomed over her, standing too close, as he bent to kiss her hand in greeting. She backed away a bit, a sudden impulse to flee the room sweeping through her. But she resisted the feeling, instead taking his proffered arm and allowing him to escort her into the dining room.

Dinner conversation had been stilted, polite discussions of weather and Ganon’s trip to Hyrule. Hyrule was too wet, Lord Ganon preferred the dry climate of Gerudo. Was my lord looking forward to the upcoming season? He supposed he would give it a try, but Castle Town paled in comparison to the pleasures of Gerudo Town. Had he visited the local stables to inspect examples of Hyrule’s finest horseflesh? The horses of Hyrule were small and weak, Gerudo horses the only ones worthy to pull Lord Ganon’s carriages and to carry his saddles. Zelda recalled the matched pair of gigantic black horses with fiery red manes that had come up the drive pulling his carriage. Considering the gentleman’s size in comparison to the average Hylian, she felt she must concede him the point on that topic. 

Zelda grimaced at her plate. She loved Gerudo as well but it seemed insulting that Ganon could not find one complimentary thing to say about Hyrule. Her father didn’t seem to notice, blithely carrying on as if Ganon were the most fascinating personage he’d ever met. The two men had carried the conversation throughout the meal, barely acknowledging her. If she must be honest, it was a relief. She found Lord Ganon to be quite intimidating and wasn’t sure she was capable of being witty and charming as her father likely wished her to be. Still, hadn't Ganon come all this way just to see her? It seemed strange that he made no attempt at all to engage with her.

Dinner seemed to last forever, but finally the servants cleared away the last of the dishes and it was time to head back to the sitting room for tea for her and brandy for the men.

“So, my lord, tell us! How has work fared at Dinraal?” Lord Rhoam asked as he poured them both a measure of his finest brandy, brought up from the cellars especially for the occasion. Lord Ganon’s estate Dinraal was the largest in Gerudo, and one of the largest in Hyrule itself, supplying hydromelons and palmfruit across the continent. Its voltfruit wine was some of the most sought after to fill cellars throughout Hyrule.

“Splendidly, my Lord Rhoam!” Ganon boomed. “I have nearly corrected the poor estate management of my predecessors, evicting the laziest tenants and increasing the yield requirements for the rest. Between that and the increase in taxes, Dinraal should be in the black again by year’s end!”

Zelda was surprised to hear such a harsh policy presented as if it were something worthy of praise. The success of an estate should be a communal effort between the lord and his tenants, not just a demand for more from them in order to increase the bottom line. She imagined that life on Dinraal was less than bucolic. She felt the need to protest Ganon’s callous behavior toward his tenants, but kept her tongue. So far he hadn’t deigned to engage her in conversation and she found herself reluctant to call the attention of those golden eyes on herself.

“That leaves one last item of business before I can call Dinraal a true home and the jewel of Gerudo,” Ganon continued. “A beautiful and charming wife to take over the task of managing the home and providing heirs.” That he considered finding a wife an item of business seemed fitting in Zelda’s estimation. Love did not seem to be a priority for him. She happened to glance up only to see Ganon’s golden eyes locked directly upon her.

She nearly dropped her tea cup. Her father was beaming. Was this his scheme? To marry her off to the first gentleman on the hunt for a wife? Both men were awaiting a response, but her tongue had seemed to cleave itself to the roof of her mouth.

“Ah … indeed,” she managed weakly. Pathetic, she berated herself. She wished she could muster up some witty response to reflect her true feelings. But she was feeling so off center since his bold declaration that she couldn’t muster up a thing. To her relief, neither man seemed to notice her response at all, continuing their discussion as if she wasn’t even there. Instead of feeling slighted, however, she was grateful to escape their attention once again.

“Now, my lord, rumor has it Lanayru is home to a collection of historical artifacts unlike any in all of Hyrule! I would be honored if your most beautiful and charming daughter would grace me with a tour,” Ganon said with a smile.

“Capital idea,” her father crowed. He clearly believed his scheme to be going splendidly.  “Zelda! Do take our guest down to the Gallery! I shall await your return here.”

Zelda stifled a sigh. That was the last thing she wanted to do; she really did not want to be alone with Ganon, even in her own home. But perhaps Ganon would grow so bored of the tour he’d leave and forget all about her. She forced a smile on her face.

“Of course, Father. I would be delighted.” She took Ganon’s proffered arm and led him to the other side of the house.

The Gallery took up most of the back of the house, an enormous room that was part library, part art gallery and part history museum. It was one of Zelda’s favorite places in the world. Books lined three walls of the room, the shelves stretching from floor to ceiling. The books were organized by topic, and contained literature from across Hyrule and beyond. There were books on science and history, guides to medicinal herbs, cook books, field guides to every creature imaginable, and treatises on philosophy and religion. One special case was devoted to collections chronicling the adventures and exploits of the legendary Princesses and Heroes of Hyrule. As a child Zelda would spend hours curled up in a chair devouring the stories of the Zeldas and Links of the past as they fought ancient evils and always saved the day.

In fact, her own family could trace its roots back to a Queen Zelda in the distant past. Zelda herself was the latest in a long line of Zeldas that stretched far back into history, and once upon a time they ruled Hyrule. They were even said to be descendants of the goddess Hylia. But at some point, a generation was born without a child to become queen, and through various marriages and the strictures of succession laws, her family became that of simple country lords living just outside of the capitol city, and the throne remained empty. 

The back wall of the Gallery was dedicated to works of art, many of them portraits of her ancestors, including one of Zelda’s mother, painted shortly before she died. When she was weary after a long field study, or needed a break while reading a tome on the cultivation of silent princess flowers, she would gaze instead at her mother’s portrait and try to imagine what she was like. She had died when Zelda was still small and Zelda only knew her from a few vague impressions and Urbosa’s stories; they had been close friends for many years before Zelda was born. She couldn’t help but think her father’s matchmaking mania would have been tempered by her mother’s quiet demeanor.

Zelda led Lord Ganon about the Gallery floor, which was filled with various displays, cases and shadow boxes scattered about the room, all featuring some object with significance to Hyrule’s history. In one case, a display of musical instruments, including a golden harp, and a small oblong object dotted with holes, labeled as an ocarina. Other cases held supposedly magical items such as a hookshot, power bracelets, a magic mirror and more.

Much of the acquisition of these items lay far back in Zelda’s family’s history and as such their provenance was unknown, the labels old and yellowing. But all of the items were carefully preserved and displayed with honor and reverence. As much as Zelda resented the pressure put on her to find a husband and wed to save the estate, she genuinely felt preserving the contents of the room to be worth it. She could not in good conscience consign the artifacts to the government to potentially be spread throughout the country. She often dreamed of building a museum to display the pieces, as well as the many Sheikah artifacts she had discovered, so that they weren’t sequestered away in Lanayru, where few could see them. She had always hoped her future husband would view such a dream with the same amount of importance she did.

Zelda could tell that Ganon was definitely not interested in the objects showcased in the Gallery. He wasn’t even really listening to her descriptions. He had been the one to insist on a tour, so why did he seem not to care about anything she showed him? Instead, his eyes darted about the room, almost as if he were searching for something. They had made their way through the room, taking a serpentine path through the displays, and had finally arrived at the back room featuring the paintings and works of art. She paused, attempting to call his attention to one of her favorite paintings, a large canvas depicting the Hero of Twilight and the Princess of Light on the back of the noble steed Epona riding to Hyrule Field for battle.

“The artist used a balance of light and shadow to evoke the twilight and highlight the hero’s weapon, the sword of legend, as well as the princess’s bow of light ...” she began. But Ganon walked past her as if she had not said anything, his attention arrested by the alcove situated in the center of the back wall of the Gallery. Ringed with large floor-to-ceiling windows, the alcove was filled with light no matter the time of day. Bare of any other ornamentation or displays, the eye was naturally drawn to focus on the object embedded in a marble pedestal in the center.

“My lady, what can you tell me about this ?” Ganon asked, acknowledging her for the first time since they had arrived in the Gallery.

“This” was the hilt of an ornate sword standing proudly from the low marble pedestal. The hilt shone purple and green in the moonlight streaming from the windows.The cross guard angled down, framing an amber gem set in the grip and drawing the eye to the symbol of the Triforce, three interconnected triangles, etched into the blade.

Zelda had always figured the sword to be an elaborate sculpture by an artist long past, honoring the sword of legend featured in the paintings that adorned the walls of the Gallery and as described in the legends of the hero. If there had been a real sword, it had been lost for centuries, and it was unlikely that the real thing would be stuck in the floor of a country manor, of all places.

“Well, my lord, not much, I’m afraid,” Zelda said. “Legend says it is the Master Sword, the blade of evil’s bane as wielded by the ancient heroes. It has been here as long as Lanayru, the house having been built around it, or so the story goes. No one really knows how it came to be here or why, but my family has been its steward for centuries.”

Ganon walked about the alcove as she spoke, circling the sword, examining it and the pedestal from all sides.

“I see …” he said, then reached his hand hesitantly toward the hilt of the sword. “May I?”

“You may try,” Zelda told him. “But many have before you and it has never budged from its spot in the marble.” She knew from experience, having tried many times as a child, wanting a real sword to wave about as she ran about the estate playing the hero of legend, rescuing Princess Paya from the evil clutches of the monster Demise. She’d always had to settle for a sturdy stick instead.

Ganon gave an experimental tug on the hilt, but seemed unaffected that the sword did not move.

“I have heard stories,” he said, “That whomever can pull the blade would gain the power to rule over Hyrule.”

Zelda laughed at this, sure he was making a joke of some kind, but her laughter died in her throat as she looked up to see Ganon’s intense golden gaze. She felt pinned by it, nervously gathering the skirt of her dress into her fists and clearing her throat before answering. 

“Ah, yes, that is a legend associated with the sword, but I doubt there is any truth to the story,” she managed. “Personally, I believe the blade ends there, affixed to the floor and not extending beyond. It is simply a sculpture.”

Ganon hummed speculatively at this, then smiled and came up to her, again standing too close and looming over her.

“If your father dies before you marry, all of this,” he said, waving his hand about the room, “will be held in trust by the state before being distributed to some other worthy lord of Hyrule, correct?”

She stared at him, once again surprised by such a bold statement, this time bordering on rudeness. To so callously comment on the personal business of her family! She finally was able to gather her courage in the face of his overwhelming presence.

“My lord! That’s hardly appropriate!” she said, mustering up as much indignation as she could. He smiled.

“My apologies,” he said, clearly not sorry at all, and offered her his arm. “The hour grows late, shall we return to the sitting room?” Zelda felt it best to put the odd interaction behind her and was more than happy to return to the safety of her father’s company.

Zelda breathed a sigh of relief once the door shut behind Lord Ganon and his carriage pulled away. The day had already been emotionally and physically taxing before he had arrived, and spending the evening in his overbearing company had left her feeling beyond exhausted. She longed to crawl in her bed and fall asleep.

“So, Zelda, what do you think of Lord Ganon?” her father asked.

And so it begins, she thought. Well, father, he frightens me a bit and I think I would be miserable as his wife, she wanted to say. But she knew he wouldn’t listen, as usual dismissing her feelings and telling her they just needed to get to know each other better. She struggled to come up with something complimentary, finally saying, “He seems … genteel enough.”

Her father hardly waited for her response before he continued. Zelda was weary of men not listening to her, a common occurrence in her life. Her mind unhelpfully returned to the gentleman from the pond and the patient — perhaps interested even — expression as he had listened to her without interruption as she dripped mud and babbled about elixirs. Of course, the one man she hoped to never see again was the one man in all of Hyrule who listened to her.

“You will be glad to know, I have given him permission to court you and seek your hand in marriage! Is that not wonderful! I will be so relieved to know your future would be secure with such an illustrious man as that.” Her father beamed at her, clearly anticipating exultant delight from his daughter.

Zelda stared at him in shock. She couldn’t believe he’d gone behind her back and arranged a marriage with a man she barely knew. Without consulting her at all. How could he? But knowing her father’s desperation to see her married, she knew that she would not be able to argue against the arrangement when she had no other prospects. And even she must admit that, on paper at least, Ganon was certainly an incredible match.

This could not be allowed to happen. Zelda was grateful she had already conceived of the scheme of spending the season in Castle Town, only hoping her father would allow her to pursue her plan instead of forcing her to accept Lord Ganon’s proposal. Still, with the shock of her father’s news and her overall exhaustion after such a long day, once again her mouth began to move before her brain could catch up.

“But father, I hardly know him! I can’t think of marriage so soon!” 

“So soon? My dear, you are 20 years old, time already grows short. You know it will only become more difficult each year you keep yourself on the shelf,” her father said. On the shelf!? She was 20 years old and her father spoke of her as if she were an old maid. 

She needed more time! She had to find a way out of this situation, to find some other solution for her future. There just had to be someone else; surely she could find a suitable match over the summer in Castle Town. She knew she had little hope of making a love match in the space of a few months, and during the frenetic social season at that, but surely she could find someone she’d be more willing to spend the rest of her life with than Ganon. She took a breath before continuing with her arguments, unwilling to let her words get away with her again.

“Father, I understand,” she said placatingly. “However, I have already written to Godmother Urbosa asking if I may join her at her home in Castle Town for the season.”

Thankfully, this seemed to capture his interest, making a pleased noise and raising his eyebrows, obviously surprised she had taken such initiative.

“Let me experience one last season and see what happens. And since Lord Ganon said he planned to travel to Castle Town mid-summer, perhaps we can get to know each other better then.” She clenched her fists in her skirt, hoping her father would agree to her plan.

“Well …” he said, thinking it over, clearly uncertain if he should agree. “I suppose that is a reasonable proposal. But you can’t put off Lord Ganon’s proposal for long, a man like that won’t wait around for you forever!”

She couldn’t tell her father that was the entire idea, as she saw it. Let Ganon get bored and move on to some other eligible lady. But she thought of the scene in the Gallery, his intense interest in the sword and its story, and wondered if Ganon would be so easily put off.

“My 21st birthday is in the fall, and that’s the day I achieve my majority,” she said. “Give me at least until then, father, and if I make no other match, I will agree to Lord Ganon’s proposal.”

She wasn’t happy with that idea either but it at least gave her a few months to come up with a plan. Her father still showed some signs of reluctance, but since she did ultimately agree to consider the marriage, he didn’t have much of an argument to offer, and he relented to her scheme, much to her relief. Finally, one thing went her way.

Finally the long day had come to an end, and Zelda crawled gratefully into her bed. But sleep eluded her despite her deep weariness. What was the true basis of Lord Ganon’s interest in her? Surely he did not believe that story about the sword? Did he see marrying her as a path toward ruling Hyrule as a king? But that was just too absurd. Zelda could not see a man such as Ganon placing much stock in fairy tales.

She also could not come up with any other plausible reason. The items in the Gallery were valuable from a historical perspective, but many no longer believed in the legends of Hyrule and the artifacts held no real monetary value. Her dowry was relatively modest, and it wasn’t as if he needed the money. And frankly there were plenty of other maidens who would leap at the chance to marry such an eligible bachelor. 

Relieved as Zelda was that her father had agreed to her spending the season in Castle Town, she knew those weeks would fly past her before she was aware of them. She would have to make the most of her time there. It was only a few short months until her birthday.

She was finally able to drift off to a fitful sleep, the gazes of intense golden eyes and startling blue eyes following her into her dreams.

Chapter Text

The streets of Castle Town were thronged with people, the advent of the annual social season gathering everyone together from their distant country estates to spend the summer in the city at concerts, picnics, operas, balls and more. Friends reconnected, families reunited, and the parents of single children of marriageable age looked hopefully toward planning a wedding.

Zelda mostly avoided Castle Town during the season, preferring instead to stay at Lanayru and avoid the crush of people that seemed to fill every street, park and building. She instead would make the short drive into the city for any social events she was willing to participate in, occasionally staying a night or two at her godmother’s townhome.

Urbosa had eagerly agreed to Zelda’s plan to stay with her in Castle Town for the summer, and said she’d have everything ready for her arrival. Zelda had explained her goal for the season — carefully avoiding any mention of Lord Ganon — and knew that Urbosa was busily accepting invitations and arranging outings. Zelda was looking forward to spending time with her godmother, something she rarely had the opportunity to do, and exploring the delights of the big city. She had made quite an extensive list of shops to visit, museums to explore and historical monuments to investigate.

Paya was beside herself with excitement, reverently packing up Zelda’s finest gowns, gloves, hats and jewelry and scanning the newest fashion plates in order to dress her mistress’s hair in the latest mode. She had never left the county around Lanayru, Zelda usually relying on one of Urbosa’s maids for her infrequent visits to the city, and she was just as excited about exploring the city as Zelda was.

The journey was not long, but the carriage seemed to crawl through the crowded streets, merchants and vendors and servants for hire streaming into the city to prepare for and profit off the wealthy and noble citizens arriving at all times of the day. The crowd and the noise of the city faded away when they finally pulled into the quiet avenue in the city’s most fashionable quarter where Urbosa had her opulent city residence. As soon as the carriage pulled up, Urbosa came out to greet them. 

“Vasaaq, my little bird,” Urbosa greeted Zelda, pulling her into a firm hug as soon as she stepped off the carriage. Zelda didn’t realize how much she had been craving such a simple, motherly gesture until she was encircled in Urbosa’s arms. She sank into her godmother’s grasp gratefully, feeling as if she had one secure port in what felt like her increasingly stormy life. Paya followed Zelda out of the carriage, carrying the baskets and other items they’d brought for the trip, nearly falling off the final step as she gawked about at the city.

“Oh godmother, how I’ve missed you!” Zelda said gratefully, tucking her hand into her godmother’s elbow as Urbosa escorted her into the house.

“And I you,” Urbosa said. “I’m sure you are weary after the journey here, but don’t rest for too long. We have much to do before the ball tomorrow!”

Zelda smothered a mournful sigh, but reflected that if anyone could make preparing for a ball more enjoyable, it would be her godmother.

Zelda examined her reflection in the mirror at her dressing table, turning her head side to side.

“Paya, you have outdone yourself,” she complimented her maid, the other girl blushing at the praise. Paya had arranged Zelda’s hair in graceful braids and curls, securing them with jeweled hair pins on loan from Urbosa. “I’d best keep you near to me lest some duchess or marquess comes to steal you away for her own!”

“Now, my lady, you know that would never happen! My family has served yours for generations and we take that role very seriously!” Paya said, nevertheless beaming at the notion of becoming the lady’s maid to a duchess. She made some minor adjustments to some of the braids as she settled a sapphire circlet on Zelda’s head. Matching sapphire earrings hung from her earlobes, both gifts from Urbosa and crafted with secret Gerudo techniques to provide a cooling effect, much appreciated in the crush of a crowded ball in the warm summer months.

After a few more adjustments, Paya declared Zelda’s toilette complete. There was nothing for it but to meet her godmother and head for Princess Mipha’s expansive Castle Town residence. Zelda couldn’t help but feel that this ball was a sort of turning point in her life, the key to her salvation or her doom. Zelda nervously gathered up her gloves, fan and handbag and prepared to descend the stairs to the entrance hall. Urbosa was waiting for her already, and she gasped in delight upon seeing Zelda on the stairs.

“Oh, my little bird, look at you! The picture of an elegant young lady,” Urbosa said. Zelda paused in a square of late afternoon sunlight shining onto the stairs, the gems in her hair and ears catching the light and sending blue spangles dancing about the hall. The deep blue of the sapphires matched the hue of the dress that Urbosa had sent her a month ago, both complementing Zelda’s skin tone and golden hair and accenting the deep green of her eyes. Urbosa was dressed in a striking teal gown with a moderate train, her red hair piled high on top of her head, adding another several inches to the Gerudo woman’s already impressive height. What her dress lacked in decoration was made up for with accessories, Urbosa’s wrists heavy with bangles sparkling with gemstones, a sapphire necklace around her throat, and a golden tiara. Zelda had to admit they made a striking pair.Urbosa took Zelda’s gloved hands in her own. “You remind me more of your mother every day,” she said, and Zelda gave a sad smile in return. She wished she knew more of her mother beyond Urbosa’s stories and the portrait in the Gallery at Castleton.  As dear as Urbosa was to her, Zelda couldn't help but wish it was her mother guiding her through the social minefield a Castle Town season could be.

The carriage ride to Princess Mipha’s home was not long, but it gave Zelda time to settle her nerves and consider the night ahead of her. She was looking forward to seeing Mipha again. They had been friends ever since their days together at Mrs. Marie’s Finishing School for Young Ladies. Since then they exchanged a copious amount of letters and visited as frequently as they could, but not as much as they might have wanted due to the distance between their homes.

While the carriage bumped along the cobbled city streets, Zelda mentally reviewed the few friends and acquaintances from her small social circle she could likely count on to be in attendance. She was grateful that Lord Ganon had planned to arrive in Castle Town well after the ball, and that she wouldn’t have to deal with him tonight. Her hopes of meeting new people and potential suitors would have been completely dashed if he were looming over her the whole night. She knew Mipha’s brother Sidon, having just turned 19, would be in attendance, as well as Lord Daruk Rudania of Eldin and his nephew Yunobo.

She hoped Revali Medoh, a gentleman with estates in Tabantha, would be at the ball. They had met a few times before at events hosted by Mipha, and they would have a good time standing by the punch bowl poking fun of the peacocks and dandies and the overzealous matchmaking mamas and their meek daughters. Revali could have been a suitable match, she thought, as they got along quite well. But Zelda knew he only had eyes for Mipha. Well, if Zelda was forced to think about romance and marriage during the ball, perhaps she could encourage Revali to finally tell Mipha how he felt about her.

Before she knew it, the carriage had stopped and they had arrived. Zelda and Urbosa had come early, Zelda hoping to spend a little extra time with Mipha before her friend was too overwhelmed by her duties as hostess. As soon as they had been ushered through the front door, Mipha flew into Zelda’s arms, crying “Oh Zelda, I am so happy you were able to come! And to think you’ll be in Castle Town for the entire season, I am simply in raptures!” 

Mipha Ruta was short and slight, but her energy and boundless enthusiasm, as well as her fondness for red gowns that matched her bright red hair, always made her seem larger than life. Right now she was practically bouncing in excitement, almost dragging Zelda by the arm into the house.

“This ball is truly one for the legends, so many old friends I haven’t seen in a long time will be in attendance!” she said.

“Oh, indeed?” Zelda asked. The ball was the first step in Zelda’s plan to find a suitor during the season, and she hoped she could rely on Mipha to make some introductions and foster new connections. New acquaintances were her best chances of securing a suitor, someone who didn’t already know her and her odd ways, someone Zelda could make believe she was just a typical young lady.

Mipha needed no encouragement to tell Zelda all about her special guests of the evening.

“Well, there’s you, of course, but also a friend of mine that I haven’t seen in years and years! We practically grew up together, and he’s just recently inherited his great-uncle’s title and estate. I had no idea he had such ties! He had a rather modest upbringing and followed his father and grandfather into the military. To see him go from a captain of the guard to the Duke of Necluda is quite astonishing! He will be escorting his younger sister, the Lady Aryll, who has only recently made her debut, through her first season!” Mipha paused for breath. “I can’t wait to see them again! I think you all will get along famously, I can’t wait to introduce you!”

Mipha and Zelda were as unalike as two friends could be. Zelda was reserved where Mipha was bubbly and outgoing. Zelda frequently preferred her own company, where Mipha was happiest when surrounded by her hundreds of friends. Zelda loved to be out in the wild, hunting for specimens and inspecting plant life, where Mipha lived for balls and parties and other indoor entertainments.

Differences aside, Zelda felt she had no truer friend. Despite her lofty title, the princess was down to earth, caring little for the status of others and making friends across the social spectrum. She cared more for what was in people’s hearts, not for the trappings of wealth and society. And while Mipha didn’t care about science and Sheikah artifacts and history, she cared that Zelda loved those things, and was happy to listen to Zelda hold forth on any topic, and oohed and ahhed appropriately over Zelda’s latest acquisitions. Zelda always felt she could be herself around Mipha, and didn’t need to hide her interests away in order to be socially acceptable.

Mipha prattled on about her friend as she drew Zelda inside the house and up to the ballroom. How he’d lived for a time at the palace in Zora’s Domain while his father was on campaign with the army, how lively and energetic he was, how he’d bravely faced down a lynel they’d accidentally stumbled across so that Mipha was able to make an escape.

“He’s truly one of the kindest people I know!” the princess exclaimed. It was clear from the way she talked about him that Mipha adored this friend. Zelda wondered if her affections might even go beyond friendship. She hoped not, for Revali’s sake.

Almost as soon as they arrived at the ballroom, Mipha was drawn away by a servant requiring her input on the arrangement of the buffet. So Zelda busied herself assisting the other servants with the final touches for the ball as well as greeting the first few guests that arrived. She had lost track of Urbosa as soon as they had arrived, but knew she wouldn’t see her godmother in the ballroom. Likely Urbosa had already settled into the game room, preparing to fleece her acquaintances of the contents of their pocketbooks over many heated hands of whist and faro. That left Zelda to her own devices, for as the ballroom filled up, she lost track of Mipha completely, and so instead hunted about for any of her other friends to avoid spending the evening awkwardly hovering about the buffet.

She first spotted Lord Daruk and Yunobo, neither presenting much of a challenge as uncle and nephew were nearly double the size of most of the other guests and stood a head or more over the crowd. She could hear Daruk’s booming voice as she threaded her way through the crowd.

“To think the little guy is now a duke!” Daruk was saying. “I always knew he was destined for great things, especially after he led his company on a charge against that talus up on Death Mountain! I couldn’t believe it when he climbed on top of it to deliver the final blows! Capital performance!” Daruk caught her approach and turned her way, his face lighting up into a huge grin.

“Tiny princess!” he cried, pulling her into an enormous bear hug. Daruk Rudania had never been a close follower of the intricacies of social interactions, avoiding the restrained gestures etiquette called for in favor of boisterous handshakes and tight hugs for those he knew well. He had a nickname for all of his good friends, calling Zelda “tiny princess” in reference to her more storied namesake. As for the tiny … well, almost everyone was tiny next to Daruk.

“It’s been too long! You know my nephew, Yunobo?” Yunobo blushed as she took his hand in greeting. Yunobo was Daruk’s near opposite in temperament. Where Daruk was loud and outgoing, enthusiastic and friendly, Yunobo was quiet and shy, reserved and thoughtful. They had met a few times at various social events, but she didn't know him well. She had briefly contemplated adding him to her list of potential suitors, but almost immediately crossed him off. They would probably make a reasonable match, but she got the distinct impression he was not interested in romantic pursuits of any kind. Besides, Zelda didn’t relish the idea of living next to an active volcano in the distant Eldin province.

“We were just discussing the new Duke of Necluda!” Daruk continued. “I don’t think he’s arrived yet, though.” Daruk’s height gave him the advantage in scanning the crowd for friends and acquaintances.

Zelda was surprised, this duke was someone both Mipha and Daruk knew well? But, then, she supposed military men did get around quite a bit. The amount of travel required with a position in the army would make it reasonable that a soldier would form connections all over Hyrule. And much like Mipha, Daruk also held little stock in titles and wealth … likely more interested in someone willing to share a good rock roast and harass moblins by launching boulders at them out of a cannon.

“I’ve known him a while but haven’t seen him in years!” Daruk continued. “Little guy sure could grill a mean rock sirloin!” he said wistfully. Zelda had to smile. She’d had it right. There was no more sure way into Daruk’s heart than providing him with a perfectly prepared Eldin delicacy.

She chatted with Daruk and Yunobo for a short time, getting caught up on each other’s lives since they last saw each other at Mipha’s ball the year before. But soon Zelda moved on, keeping an eye out for Mipha while seeking other companions. The sound of violins and flutes reached her ears, a sign that the musicians were warming up and dancing was soon to begin. Zelda joined in for a few turns, once with Yunobo and once with an old friend of her father’s, but so far was frustrated in her attempts to make new connections. Her hopes of finding potential suitors at the ball did not seem to be off to a good start.

Soon more and more people began to fill the ballroom, and Zelda soon felt the need to escape the crowd and get some air. She wished she’d stuck closer to Mipha, who could have made introductions and ensured Zelda was well set up for social interaction. Zelda was not terribly outgoing on her own, and upon reflection she wondered why she thought she could handle finding new acquaintances on by herself. Perhaps some time in the gardens would clear her mind and give her the confidence to try again.

She took a moment to check into the game room to see Urbosa, her expression calm and neutral over her hand of cards, a large pile of rupees and IOU slips at her elbow. Zelda decided against interrupting her godmother’s winning streak, and returned to the ballroom. When she did she saw heads turning and followed their gaze to see what was drawing such attention. It was Mipha’s younger brother, Sidon, leading a beautiful young blond girl in a shining pink ball gown onto the dance floor. The two made a handsome couple, the young lady sporting a brilliant smile as the couples lined up to begin the dance. Zelda wondered who the girl might be and resolved to ask Mipha about it. If she ever found her again.

Zelda gave up on taking the long way around the ballroom to reach the gardens and decided to cut through the crowd instead. The doors to the garden were on the other side of the ballroom, and she caught snippets of conversation here and there as she passed through the room. It seemed all anyone could talk about was the new duke.

The young ladies were swooning. “A bit on the short side, but those eyes!” one young woman was saying to her companion. “And that fortune!” said her friend before they both dissolved into giggles. Zelda wrinkled her nose, privately rolling her eyes at the girls’ comments. Rich and handsome was rarely a pleasant combination, in her opinion. It usually had an ego to match.

The young men were envious. “ … some tailor in Kakariko, of all places! But the cut of his coats is sure to set the fashion for years to come!” one young gentleman said, his friend lamenting the fact he couldn’t get a good look at how the duke tied his cravat so that he could do the same. Rich, handsome and a slave to fashion? Zelda huffed in annoyance. The men she had met that encompassed all three of those qualities were not usually the sort that held her interest. Or were interested in her, for that matter.

The mamas were scheming. “I hear his estate in Necluda alone brings in 10,000 rupees a year! He’d be a perfect match for my Narah,” Lady Nikki was saying to Lady Amira. Rich, handsome, a slave to fashion and single … well, hmm. That gave Zelda pause — perhaps she was being too hasty in dismissing this mysterious duke. On the other hand, she wasn’t sure she wanted to join the competition for such an eligible bachelor’s favor.

The gentlemen were impressed. “Took that bokoblin down, right between the eyes, at 50 paces! And he’s unmatched with the sword. I hear his opponents are disarmed before they can even make the first move!” Zelda sighed in annoyance. Really, was there nothing else to speak of? She had already had enough of this duke and she still hadn’t even met him yet.

By the time she made her way to the doors leading to the gardens, Zelda was exhausted by the press of the crowd, the heat of the rooms in spite of the cooling effect of her sapphires, and the endless discussion and speculation about the duke. Frankly, he sounded insufferable. She desperately hoped everyone would discover a new topic of discussion by the time she returned to the ballroom. She grabbed a chilled glass of lemonade and took a moment to enjoy the air of the gardens, the light breeze carrying the scent of the flowers and doing much to cool her down.

She felt better already away from the crowd, and her spirits lifted even further as she spied a familiar face leaning against the balustrade that surrounded the veranda. Here she knew she would find a sympathetic soul.

“Revali! Fancy meeting you here,” she said.

Revali Medoh folded his arms across his chest and gave her a sardonic smile in greeting.

“I had to escape everyone’s obsession with this new duke!” he said. “I could bear it no longer.”

Zelda sighed, nodding. It seemed it was not to be her fate to escape the duke, even with Revali.

“It must be nice to just fall into a dukedom,” he continued. “Imagine handing such a title to some nobody out of nowhere. Surely there were more deserving candidates!” Although he came from a good family, and was wealthy and well-respected, Revali was always subtly envious of his titled peers. Zelda wondered if he perhaps thought a title was a requirement were he to officially ask to court Mipha, despite wealth or title being no requirement for courtship even for Zora royalty. And certainly no requirement for Mipha herself.

“Have you met the duke yet, Revali?” Zelda asked him. It seemed everyone already knew everything about him, but she hadn’t seen anyone she could identify as the duke despite having traveled seemingly all over the ballroom. “Mipha couldn’t stop talking about him and wanted to make the introduction, but I haven’t seen her since the ball began!”

A brief look of unhappiness traveled over Revali’s face at the mention of Mipha and the duke before he hid it away again behind a scowl.

“No,” he said. “But I’ve encountered him before he became the duke.”

Revali then launched into a story, describing how he had come into the village from Eagle’s Bow, his expansive Tabanthan estate, and discovered a large party of soldiers had taken over the tavern at the inn. They were celebrating the company’s victory over a band of ice lizalfos they had encountered while patrolling the mountains. Apparently half of the company’s soldiers were at the foot of a steep slope, many frozen from the monsters’ attacks, the rest struggling under the assault, and their backup still quite a distance away up the mountain.

Things were looking dire until the company’s captain found an old shield in the snow, hopped aboard it and used it to skim the snow down the mountain toward the battle. Halfway down he pulled out his rifle and took out three of the monsters, then another three before he reached the battle. The shield shattered to pieces beneath him as he reached the fighting, but he never lost his footing, shooting the last two ice lizalfos right as they were about to freeze the last of his men standing. The monsters had been guarding a large hoard of gems, one of which had been used to pay the company’s tab at the tavern, and all were in quite good cheer.

“Surely most of that story was the result of the numerous flagons of ale the company had been enjoying before I arrived. If only the village leaders had been able to reach me in time! I would have taken care of those lizalfos without the need for soldiers and ridiculous stunts!” he finished with a huff. Revali was a crack shot, renowned throughout Tabantha and beyond for his skill with a firearm.

Zelda knew how hard Revali worked to maintain that reputation, spending endless hours in target practice and paying careful attention to the design and maintenance of his weapons. A Revali-designed pistol was highly coveted by gentlemen across Hyrule. She wasn’t truly convinced that he could have taken on a band of ice lizalfos on his own, but she could understand the source of his resentment. Above all else he wanted to be regarded as a good landlord, there to protect and provide for his tenants when they needed him, and it must rankle that soldiers from elsewhere were called on to perform what Revali saw as his duty.

Zelda added recklessness to her list of the duke’s unfavorable attributes. She tried not to form opinions of people she had yet to meet, but she decided she wouldn’t like this duke. She was surprised that gentle souls like Mipha and Daruk would speak so enthusiastically about such a person. But, she chided herself, she must withhold her final judgement until she finally met him in person. Perhaps it was time to make another attempt to seek out Mipha.

Zelda left Revali to stew on the veranda, seeing he was set on having a good sulk, and made her way back into the ballroom. If she couldn’t find Mipha, then she would make her way to the gaming room to see how her godmother fared and if she might be ready to head home. Zelda was uninterested in more dancing and the endless discussion of the duke only made her more weary. She longed for the quiet of her room and to remove her uncomfortable shoes and clothing and sink into the softness of her bed. However, she did not have to search for long before she was caught by a hand on her arm and an exclamation of “There you are!”

She turned to Mipha to find her as full of energy as ever, as if she hadn’t been hosting a large ball for several hours. Never content to just let Zelda follow, Mipha pulled her by the arm across the ballroom to the wall opposite the gaming room.

“I’ve been searching for you all over!” she said as she towed Zelda along. “Come, come! I have someone I’d like you to meet!”

Zelda had to smile, as if her friend even gave her a choice to not come along! But her smile faltered as she felt a brief attack of nerves. Was she to finally meet this mysterious duke as Mipha had promised? She wasn’t sure she wanted to meet the haughty gentleman she’d conjured in her mind. But looking ahead to where Mipha was taking her, she could only see the young lady in the pink dress that had been on Sidon’s arm at the beginning of the dancing.

“Zelda, this is Lady Aryll, sister to the Duke of Necluda,” Mipha said. “Lady Aryll, this is my good friend Lady Zelda.”

Mipha beamed at the both of them before she was called away once more to attend to her duties as hostess, leaving the two young ladies to get to know each other. Aryll gave Zelda a bright smile, tugging her up out of the curtsy she’d begun at their introduction.

“Oh, please, don’t!” she said, pulling Zelda up to standing. “I certainly wasn’t raised the sister of a duke, and all of this stuffy formality makes me so uncomfortable! So much curtsying and bowing!” Aryll gave a theatrical shudder.

“But I am delighted to make the acquaintance of any good friend of Mipha’s! She has told me so much about you already. Please, come sit and talk with me, I do hope we may become friends.”

Zelda was not surprised to hear that Mipha had been singing her praises to Aryll. If Mipha loved to make friends, she equally loved those friends becoming friends with each other. The two young ladies managed to find a pair of chairs in a relatively quiet corner. At first Zelda was a bit nervous, as she was meeting any new person, but Lady Aryll turned out to be friendly and personable, launching into a steady stream of comforting chatter and making Zelda feel as if they had known each other for years.

There seemed to be no topic Aryll was too shy to discuss, perhaps because in her upbringing she had avoided the polite reticence instilled in so many young ladies of the noble classes. She told Zelda of how she had been raised in Necluda by an aunt while her brother followed their father around on his military campaigns. How their mother had died when Aryll was a baby, and their father had passed a few years ago. How strange it had been to become the sister to a duke overnight, and how she was still adjusting to life as nobility on a grand estate and how she didn’t always feel she fit in with the more elevated company she now kept.

Zelda felt a kinship with Aryll right away, and felt just as comfortable sharing her own story with her.  Zelda told her about how she also had lost her mother at an early age, and how she also frequently felt she didn’t fit in with society. She spoke of how she loved to study science and nature, and all about the Sheikah artifacts she had been researching. Aryll was excited about the last part.

“Oh, someday you must come out to Farore for a visit! As we have explored the land about estate, my brother and I have discovered all manner of Sheikah artifacts. Why, we even stumbled upon one of the ancient shrines!”

A shrine! Zelda had only read about shrines, but had never seen one, most shrines proving elusive in their discovery. Her cousin Purah even had a theory that the Sheikah slate could interact with them in some way. Zelda would love to have the opportunity to devote herself to the study of a shrine.

“I would be delighted, my lady,” Zelda said eagerly. “I have often dreamed of the chance to explore a shrine!”

“Please,” Aryll scoffed. “No ‘my lady’ between us! Do call me Aryll. Now, where is that brother of mine! I must introduce you! Ah! There he is!” Aryll stood up and waved her arm over head at someone behind Zelda.

Zelda sood and turned, eager to finally put a face to the duke she had been hearing about all evening. Approaching them was a young man not much taller than she, with bright blue eyes and sandy hair worn unfashionably long and tied back from his face with a blue ribbon. Suddenly she felt dizzy, the blood draining from her face and racing directly to her pounding heart. It couldn’t be!

“Where did you get to? I’ve been searching for you for an hour!” Aryll demanded, unaware of her new friend’s distress. “Link, I’d like to introduce you to my new friend, the Lady Zelda. Zelda, this is my brother Link, Duke of Necluda.”

Zelda felt frozen, unable to move or speak or even breathe. He was the duke she’d been hearing about all night? He peered at her a moment before an amused smile crossed his face, quickly hidden from view by his sandy hair as he took her hand and bowed over it, able to perform the formalities of the introduction where she could not. He released her hand and stood straight again to look at his sister.

“I must confess, Lady Zelda and I have already met, Aryll,” he said. His voice was low and quiet, yet she could still hear every word even over the din of the crowd.

The one situation she had been praying to avoid, and here it was! To think it was a duke that had saved her that day. A duke who had seen her soaked in pondwater and covered in mud. A duke who had pulled slimy monster parts out of a lake for her! And a duke who she had fled from without an introduction or thanks. She was grateful her father was back home at Lanayru, he would have locked her in her room and married her off to Lord Ganon without a second thought had he known exactly what had happened that morning.

Link looked back to Zelda, smiling. “But I am glad to finally have a name to put to the face, though I almost didn’t recognize you without the mud.”

Aryll looked between Link and Zelda in confusion. a rush of embarrassed anger flooded Zelda’s body, quickly thawing her frozen state. She sucked in a breath as the blood that had fled her face before suddenly rushed back, a hot flush racing up her neck. As if this entire situation wasn’t humiliating enough, he was mocking her on top of it. Zelda’s mind reeled through the possibilities: Would he tell Aryll how he’d met Zelda soaking wet and coated in pond scum? Aryll would probably want nothing to do with her after that. Would he go on to tell everyone else at the ball and make her the laughing stock of the season? She could feel her carefully crafted plans begin to crumble, her humiliation in front of a duke sure to set the rest of society against her. She might as well just go home and accept Lord Ganon’s proposal. 

“What? How do you mean? When?” Aryll asked suspiciously, narrowing her eyes at her brother. When he was not forthcoming, she looked again at Zelda in surprise 

“Zelda?” she asked, concern written on her face as she registered Zelda's angry flush and the tightness in her jaw.

Zelda’s eyes darted from Aryll to Link and back again. She could not bring herself to relive that morning that had begun such an awful day and had ultimately placed her in the predicament she was in now. She was overwhelmed with a desire to flee, just as she had been that morning a month ago. She had to get away. 

“I … I ... It’s been a pleasure. Your Grace. Lady Aryll. But … but I must be going.” 

She took a step back, almost crashing into the couple standing behind her. They exclaimed at her rudeness, but she ignored them, turning around too fast and almost losing her balance a bit before she regained her footing and practically ran to the gaming room and her godmother. 

“Zelda, wait!” Aryll called from behind her, but she chose to pretend as if she hadn’t heard her.

Zelda cursed her awkwardness. As humiliating as the entire situation had been, she knew she had made it worse by running away once again. She yanked open the door to the gaming room and nearly slammed it closed behind her, pressing her back against the door, hoping he would not choose to chase after her. She scanned the room and was relieved to see that Urbosa seemed to have won everyone’s money and was preparing to seek Zelda out herself in order to head home for the evening.

“Little bird, what has happened?” Urbosa asked, concerned at Zelda’s abrupt appearance and flushed face.

“Nothing, godmother,” Zelda said. “I just … I just would like to head home.” Urbosa opened her mouth as if to question why they needed to leave in such a rush, but Zelda cut her off. “I will await you in the carriage,” she said, and fled the room, ignoring the servant’s startled expressions and heading straight out the front door to the line of carriages waiting in the street.

Only she, her father and Paya knew what had happened that day, and Zelda had kept it that way, not even sharing it with her godmother. Urbosa soon joined her, and Zelda was grateful that she seemed content to allow Zelda to share whatever was upsetting her on her own time. As the carriage pulled away and began the short journey back, Zelda sat back against the carriage’s plush interior and struggled to hold back her tears. All of the humiliated frustration of that day at the pond clashed with the shocked embarrassment of meeting the duke, leaving her mind in turmoil. And every time she closed her eyes, all she could see was his blue eyes and his amused expression.

Chapter Text

Excerpt from the diary of Lady Zelda Bosphoramus:

I set out into Castle Town today to do some shopping. I still recall feeling his eyes on me. The feeling stayed with me so long, I grew anxious and weary. I wish I knew what he was thinking! It makes my imagination run wild, guessing at what he is thinking. What does the duke think of me? Will I ever truly know? Then, I suppose it's simple. A daughter of Hyrule's nobility, yet unmarried and playing in ponds ... He must despise me.

Zelda set out with Paya for the shops of Castle Town, hoping to distract herself from the disastrous events of the ball. She planned to look for some more gloves, ribbons and hat trimmings, knowing her social obligations for the summer were only beginning. She couldn’t afford to look the simple country miss while in Castle Town. But the city also had book stores, boutiques, and curio shops that called to her, full of wonders she’d never find in the shops in the village near Lanayru.

The two young ladies spent a delightful morning, Paya’s basket filled to the brim with ribbons, dried flowers, buttons and more that she couldn’t wait to use to trim Zelda’s hats to make her mistress one of the most fashionable ladies in the city. Their next stop was to one the city’s many bookshops, where Paya perused the fashion plates and Zelda scoured the shelves on science and archaeology, eagerly snapping up the latest issues of the scientific journals that hadn’t made their way to the village booksellers yet.

They approached the counter at the front of the shop to make their purchases, waiting behind a young man dressed in unfamiliar livery featuring an equally unfamiliar crest.

“I’m here for the book order for the Duke of Necluda,” the young man told the clerk.

Zelda looked to Paya in surprise, then surreptitiously glanced about to see if he was in the shop as well. Thankfully it seemed he’d only sent his man out to run the errand. Zelda was glad that Paya finally knew the whole story, Zelda having poured out everything that had happened at the pond as well as the events of the previous evening to her maid as she’d helped her shed her ball finery and prepare for bed. At least she’d have someone to share her feelings with. Both girls had agreed a day of shopping would be a good way to forget all about the duke and what he’d said. But it seemed that wasn’t meant to be.

The bookseller stepped into the back and came out with a stack of several books. Zelda tried not to look but found she couldn’t help herself, her eyes drawn to the spines of the books to see the titles. “A Treatise on the Use of Shrines in Ancient Sheikah Rituals,” “A Guide to Necludan Flora,” “Hearty Elixirs: Recipes and Best Practices'' were a few that caught her eye. Zelda had some of these books in her own collection, now sadly crated up and stored somewhere in Castleton where she couldn’t find them. 

Why, that very same book on elixirs had been the impetus behind her trip to the pond on that fateful day. She wondered what a military man who had spent his time battling taluses and slaying monsters could possibly want with books such as these. Was it possible he shared her interest in science and archaeology? Zelda’s mind wandered, envisioning deep discussions of the symbolism of the carvings on shrine exteriors, blue eyes sparking with interest at her theories … or perhaps standing elbow to elbow in the cool shade of the forest, her golden hair mixing with sandy blond as they bent their heads together, peering at the Sheikah slate to see if it might interact with the shrine ...

“My lady?”

Zelda snapped out of her daydream to see the duke’s servant had left, and the bookseller was patiently waiting for her to bring her purchases to the counter. What on earth had gotten into her just now? And for these fantasies to feature the duke so prominently … she had no business thinking fondly of someone who very likely thought her a foolish girl that played in mud puddles.

She firmly pushed the duke out of her head, frustrated that she couldn’t seem to avoid thinking about him since their official meeting the night before. The two young women went back out onto the street after paying for their purchases at the booksellers, heading off to their next destination, Zelda hopeful that the rest of their afternoon would be free of reminders of her humiliation at the ball.

She and Paya continued on, leisurely strolling through a nearby park on the way to their next destination. Robbie and Purah had written letting her know they’d be in Castle Town for the week and invited her around for tea. Her cousins made infrequent trips from their distant village, and Zelda was eager to see them. It had been many months since they had last visited and left her the Sheikah slate. She really must plan a trip to Hateno soon to see them. Perhaps in early fall, especially if she was to be married later this year. It was too far to journey from Gerudo, she thought glumly.

As she and Paya approached the inn where her cousins were staying, she heard the noise of horses and a carriage, the slap of leather as the driver shook the reins and clucked to the horses to get them moving and the rattle of the wheels on the cobbled street as it pulled away. She looked over in curiosity only to stop short in shock.

Paya walked a few steps ahead of her before realizing she was alone.

“My lady … ?”

“Paya! That carriage!” Zelda hissed, incredulous. “I recognize the crest from that man in the book shop. Is the duke here? Does he know Purah and Robbie somehow?”

“Surely it’s a coincidence?” Paya said uncertainly. “Or … perhaps it's the servant on another errand.”

Zelda was beginning to feel like her whole life was becoming a coincidence when it came to the duke. 

“Perhaps,” she said. But Zelda just knew it wasn’t the servant this time. She stood another moment in the street, watching as the carriage rolled away and rounded a corner, disappearing from her sight, before she led Paya into the inn.

After their enthusiastic greetings, Zelda, Purah and Robbie spent a delightful tea time discussing all manner of topics. Robbie’s experiments with sheikah technology, Purah’s thoughts on what the Sheikah Slate might be capable of if they could get it to work, the guidance stone they had uncovered in Hateno and how it might be activated. It was just so pleasant to spend time face to face in discussion, rather than trying to cram all of her thoughts into crossed lines on a sheet of paper. And not have to try to solve the mystery that was Purah’s handwriting.

They were enjoying a tray of cute sandwiches and adorable tea cakes brought in by the innkeeper. The sandwiches were cut into little shapes, and the cakes all had flowers or even cute animal faces piped in colored frosting on the top. She’d never seen anything like it before, and guessed that fanciful food items were one way to set your shop apart from the many options in the city. She picked up a cake decorated with an adorable bear face and studied it, wondering if it wasn’t perhaps too cute to eat, when Purah said something so shocking she forgot all about how cute it was and ate it all in one too big bite.

“Linky was just telling us about some of the things he and Aryll have discovered at Farore,” Purah said. “Robbie and I can’t wait to visit and see what we can learn! It’s funny that we had a better opportunity to catch up with them all the way in Castle Town. He’s been so busy lately, we never see him anymore.” Purah gave a mournful sigh.

Zelda chewed desperately while turning her cousin’s words over in her mind. Each word made sense individually, but when put together, she found them nearly incomprehensible. Surely Purah wasn’t talking about who Zelda thought she was talking about. Surely not. She was pleased she managed to swallow the cake without choking, and washed it down with a sip of tea before setting her cup down into the saucer with a loud clack.

“ Linky ?!” Zelda said in amazement, focusing on the one thing that had stood out the most from Purah’s statement.

“Oh, pardon me, I mean Duke Linky,” Purah said with a laugh. “I still can hardly believe that rambunctious boy has become such a fine — and dare I say handsome? — young man.”

Linky. Ridiculous. It seemed Zelda really could not escape him today. And how on earth did Purah and Robbie know him, especially in such a familiar way? Purah mistook Zelda’s goggling at her as awe of their lofty acquaintance, and not for the shocked disbelief it really was.

“His sister Aryll lived with their aunt for many years in Hateno while Li—  I mean, the duke — followed their father with his military work. He would come to visit and would do all sorts of things to help out the villagers. He even helped us dig out the guidance stone,” she said.

“He was always willing to help test out some of the guardian weapons I created,” Robbie added. “But I didn’t really have to ask for his help there, he was always eager to volunteer.”

Now that seemed more in line with the duke’s character as she perceived it. Robbie’s guardian weapons were quite an experience, giant blade saws and long spears tipped with glowing blue guardian blades. Zelda felt a brief flash of envy. Her father would have deemed such an activity as unladylike and would never have let her touch them.

Thankfully the rest of the afternoon passed without any further mention of the duke, and Zelda fervently hoped she’d finally be able to put him out of her head. She felt it was unfair that the universe seemed bent on not letting her put him behind her. But at least for a time she was free, and relished spending the afternoon chatting about all of the things she loved with an audience that could not only keep up with her but also contribute on their own. She so rarely was able to indulge in such discussions, and again she regretted that her cousins lived so far away from her.

“Zelly, you should come out to visit us this fall!” Purah declared. “It’s been so long, and we have so much we could investigate!”

“I’m sure we could get that slate working if all three of us put our heads together,” Robbie added.

Zelda sighed. That sounded wonderful, to spend days immersed in research and study, sharing discoveries and theories and plotting experiments, not being judged for her interests or chastised for not being the perfect picture of a lady.

“I will speak to my father about it,” she said. “It would depend on how the summer goes,” she added thoughtfully.

“How do you mean?” Purah asked. “What happens this summer?”

Zelda wished she had kept that part to herself. She had not shared her courtship woes with her cousins. Purah had never been interested in marriage, her inheritance enough to support her and to purchase the old lighthouse she had turned into a makeshift laboratory. Her brother Robbie had moved in after a few years, after losing his young fiancee to illness and vowing dramatically that he would never love again. She was sure neither would really understand her own situation. It had been nice to spend an afternoon not thinking about it, and she regretted the need to bring it up again.

“Oh … well, I just mean that we should wait to make plans until the end of the season!” she said. Perhaps she could squeeze in a trip out to Hateno before her birthday when she must accept Lord Ganon’s proposal. Before her life folded up on her like a piece of paper.

The next day was another beautiful summer day, and Zelda had only marked a few items off of her list of places to explore in Castle Town. She knew she had the whole summer ahead of her, but her list was quite long and she didn’t want to miss anything. She and Paya made their way to a more eclectic part of the city, where many artists kept their studios, and the streets were lined with a mix of antiques dealers, used book sellers, small restaurants featuring cuisine from the distant reaches of Hyrule, and curio shops full of hard-to-find elixir ingredients, supposedly fairy-enhanced clothing and jewelry, and all of the books one would never see in a more sedate bookseller’s shop.

Since arriving in Castle Town, Zelda had greatly enjoyed reading recent editions of the Castle Town Reporter, the newspaper describing current events in the city but also all over the country. But she had been focusing mostly on the Rumor Mill column of late. Much of it was gossip about the romantic escapades of the nobility and the rise and fall of fortunes, which in most circumstances she could generally care less about. She had been relieved to see that her terror from the ball had been unfounded; the writer, one Mistress Traysi, mentioned the duke’s appearance at Mipha’s ball, but thankfully no more than that, the restrictions of the need for brevity in newspaper writing holding her to a simple list of the notables in attendance that night. In which Zelda was definitely not included.

However, that morning’s column featured a sentence on a new shop owned by one Mr. Kilton that focused entirely on monster-themed items. Zelda was instantly determined to go. Her father would never have allowed her to even consider visiting that part of town, much less enter such a store, but Urbosa was much less strict, being a frequent visitor to that neighborhood herself. As long as she kept Paya in tow, Urbosa trusted Zelda to comport herself within the bonds of propriety. It was such a wonderful feeling, one that she didn’t get to experience that often, to have someone have such faith in her ability to lead her own life.

Both young ladies peered into the window of the shop, which was stacked high with displays of various odd hats sewn to look like lizalfos, bokoblins and even the fearsome lynel; bottles full of something called “monster extract” that could be added to any item to create a powerful elixir; and even several small purple cakes decorated with purple frosting and adorned with horns. Zelda couldn’t wait to get her hands on the monster extract, and Paya was curious to taste one of the cakes, which apparently got their rich purple color from the extract. Zelda had never considered the possibilities of using elixirs in baked goods and was quite intrigued by the idea. And both girls giggled at Paya’s suggestion that Zelda wear a lizalfo hat to her next ball.

Zelda heard the bell over the door jingle, and she glanced over, only to gasp and shove Paya in the other direction, ducking into the alley next to the shop.

“My lady, wha—?!” Paya began.

“Shh!” Zelda hissed, pulling her back into the shadow of the alley. Something squished unpleasantly beneath her shoe but she ignored it. The fresh summer breeze that had curled through the city completely missed the alley, and she breathed shallowly in an attempt to ignore the dank smells that crept from the back. But all of that was better than risking discovery by him .

When the bell at the door had rung and called her attention, Zelda could not believe her eyes when she spied a familiar head of sandy hair exiting the shop. Thankfully he had paused in the open door with his back to her, as if someone were speaking to him from within the store, giving her plenty of time to drag Paya and herself into hiding. What could he possibly want at such a shop? She had prayed the day before was a fluke and that today could be a day free of encountering the duke. It was almost as if he were following her! In her ire Zelda chose to ignore the fact that he had arrived before her at each encounter. Could she never escape him? Every time she relived that day at the pond, meeting him at the ball, shame and embarrassment burning through her. She could not bear to face him again, and yet he seemed to turn up everywhere she went.

She cautiously peered around the corner, and much to her relief she saw him progressing down the street away from their hiding spot. She waited until he turned the corner before dragging Paya out of the alley.

“Phew, my lady, that alley was horrid,” Paya said. “Why … ?”

Zelda pulled Paya close, whispering, “That was the duke! Coming out of Mr. Kilton’s shop!”

Paya looked confused. “I know you don’t like him, but was it truly necessary to hide from him? He can’t be all that bad, I’m sure!”

Zelda felt a rush of irritation. Of course he is all that bad! Isn’t he? Or was she being silly and turning it all into a much bigger deal than it really was? No, of course not. She was fully justified in her actions. In fact, it was all his fault, showing up everywhere she wanted to be!

“Yes. Yes he is,” she sniffed, and turned away to finally stalk off toward the monster shop, Paya scurrying to keep up.

Later, she and Paya enjoyed a light luncheon in the late morning sunshine in Central Square Park at the center of Castle Town’s fashionable residential district, having completed their business at Mr. Kilton’s shop. They stopped long enough at Urbosa’s town home to freshen up, drop off their purchases and collect a picnic lunch to take to the park. The park was a large green space with stands of trees, sculpted gardens, water features and fountains, and walking paths that wound through the park and around the perimeter. Central Square Park was the place to see and be seen, everyone wearing their newest finery, or showing off their latest equine acquisition. The streets that bordered the park were full of smart new carriages and phaetons, all jostling about in order to catch attention.

Zelda had changed into her best walking dress for the occasion, but was beginning to feel a bit shabby next to the more well-turned out members of society. It was almost impossible not to, so many ladies dressed in the latest examples of fashion, in costly fabrics with expensive adornments, their hats and bonnets trimmed in the latest mode. Many of the ladies were on the arm of an equally fashionable gentleman, while unaccompanied ladies strolled about in groups, flirting with every unattached man they met. It seemed so easy for these ladies, to meet and mingle with men, to be sociable and capture their attention. She sighed. Her dress was nice enough, but would a newer more fashionable one give her more confidence? Or perhaps she just needed bolder company. Paya was a delightful companion but was, if possible, even more shy than Zelda. Perhaps Mipha could accompany her to the park some day … Mipha always had the boldness in social situations that Zelda sorely lacked.

She decided she would not worry so much about socializing today, and instead would enjoy the sunshine and inspect the flowers, investigate the foliage, and catalog the butterflies she saw flitting about. The city gardeners had created botanical exhibits throughout the park that celebrated the flora of more distant regions of Hyrule. Shallow ponds filled with fleet lotus flowers with sneaky river snails hiding beneath their broad leaves, just as they would in Zora’s Domain; sandy soil with stands of voltfruit cactus, electric safflina thrusting their golden flowers up through twining hydromelon vines, just as she’d seen on her visits to Gerudo. Faron, the cooler slopes of Death Mountain, the temperate mountain regions of Necluda, all were represented in intricately researched and maintained garden displays. In winter they even planted wildberry bushes, their red berries vibrant against the snow, with chillshrooms and cool safflina planted throughout in displays celebrating the Hebra mountains and Gerudo highlands.

Paya trailed along behind her, attempting to keep up with Zelda’s enthusiastic descriptions and explanations of the plants, happy to see Zelda finally enjoying herself rather than fretting about suitors or, more frequently these days, the duke.

“Paya! Oh! Look!” Zelda cried, rushing off the path only to slow and quietly creep toward one of the large trees that lined the walking paths along the interior of the park. While the fashionable set claimed the walking paths, nannies and governesses tended to rule the open green spaces that filled the interior, their young charges racing about in the sunshine in boisterous games of tag and hide-and-seek. The tree that had caught Zelda’s attention sat along one of the interior walking paths, and she stood in the shade of the trees, the sunlight parkland rolling out ahead of her.

She stood a moment at the trunk of the tree, her hands coming up and carefully scooping something Paya couldn’t see off of the rough bark of the tree. Zelda came away from the tree and had moved back into the sunshine, whatever she’d caught on the tree cupped carefully in her hands. Paya took a moment to admire the way her mistress’s golden hair shone in the summer sun, and was particularly pleased with the work she’d done on her hairstyle this morning. She had also found the right balance of accessories to enliven Zelda’s sparkling white walking dress. Paya felt she had done an excellent job dressing her mistress today. It helped that her mistress provided a wonderful canvas for Paya’s talents. She only wished that Zelda could see that for herself.

Paya approached Zelda, but recoiled as soon as she saw what was cupped in her hands.

“Oh! Ew! My lady!” Paya gasped in dismay. A large blue beetle with a wicked looking curved horn jutting from its head sat in her palm, then crawled over until it sat on the back of her hand.

“Isn’t it glorious? I’ve never seen such a large bladed rhino beetle,” Zelda said. The sun shone off the beetle’s carapace, as she angled her hand about to catch the light, its iridescent blue shell shining like mother-of-pearl. “It’s so beautiful.”

“If you say so, my lady,” Paya said with a shudder.

This was truly one area in which she and her mistress differed. Zelda feared no creature, never hesitating to capture anything crawling or wriggling on the ground, always eager to get a closer look. Meanwhile, the spiky legs and shining carapace gave Paya the shivers, and she looked away, unable to watch the enormous beetle crawl about Zelda’s hand any longer. She turned instead to watch a group of laughing and shrieking children as they raced about in a vigorous game of tag. Among them Paya was surprised to see a well-dressed gentleman race past, the gang of children in close pursuit. He was wearing a white shirt, having shed his coat and loosened his cravat as he ran about in the heat of the summer sunshine, his hair coming loose from its tie.

Something about it impressed Paya, the gentleman’s carefree attitude and the children’s happy laughter infectious. He seemed far too young to have children of that age, so Paya guessed he must simply have a love for children and a lively sense of fun. It was somewhat surprising — most gentlemen in her experience would rather step in horse dung than run about in a park with children, and certainly would not choose to look so disheveled when he could be seen by the dandies and fashionable gentlemen that populated the park.

“Oh, my lady, look — how sweet!” Paya said, distracting Zelda from her beetle.

“Hmm?” Zelda hummed, not looking away from the creature as it trundled about her hand.

Paya gestured to the game as discreetly as she could, saying, “Look at that gentleman and the children, isn’t it wonderful? They are all having such fun!”Her mistress looked to where she was gesturing, but instead of a sweet smile or delighted comment as Paya expected, she instead went absolutely rigid, a look of angry disbelief crossing her face. Paya looked between Zelda and the children at play in the grassy field, confused that her mistress could find a children’s game so offensive.

“I. Cannot. Believe. This.” Zelda sputtered, her hand frozen in front of her, still hosting the bladed rhino beetle. “Can I never escape him? Am I doomed to see him wherever I go?”

“Him?” Paya asked in confusion. Perhaps Zelda had seen someone else, and that explained her reaction. But she followed Zelda’s gaze to find it locked on the young man at play with the children. Paya suddenly had a very good idea who the young man might be.

“Is that … ?” she began, but trailed off, for right at that moment the gentleman happened to glance in their direction, his attention completely arrested by Zelda. Paya wasn’t surprised, her mistress practically glowed in the sunlight, as if the sun were there to show off her every best feature.

Zelda was quick to answer Paya’s unfinished question.

“Yes. That, Paya, is the Duke of Necluda,” Zelda stated. To her horror, his blue eyes locked onto hers, even though they stood apart a considerable distance, the children still racing around him, unaware that he had stopped their game. She was incensed that he had turned up yet again, like some plague she was unable to recover from. She glared at him, noting the way his face was flushed with exertion, the way his loosened hair framed his face, the way his shirt, damp with sweat, clung to the muscles of his chest. It wasn’t polite to stare at someone, much less glare at them, but her rage at him appearing everywhere she went momentarily overwhelmed her manners and sense of propriety.

And then, as if things weren’t going poorly enough, he began to walk their way.

“Oh no,” she moaned, and then suddenly, she realized she stood there in full sunlight, a giant beetle happily resting on the back of her hand. All of her father’s admonitions against her scientific interests came rushing back into her head: Young ladies should not catch toads in the yard. Young ladies should not get their dresses dirty scrabbling about in the bushes for plants. And young ladies certainly should not carry insects about on their hands.

Zelda squeezed her eyes shut for a moment. She had done it again, made a fool of herself in front of him. There was no way the duke had missed her delightedly playing host to an insect.

She panicked, unsure of what to do. She had no desire to make awkward conversation with the duke, nor attempt to explain what she was doing with the beetle. She could only handle so much embarrassment in the span of several days. However, an unexpected savior gave her a reprieve. The duke was halfway across the field to her when suddenly someone called out to him from one of the walking paths to Zelda’s right.

“Oh, Your Grace! Just the man I was looking for!” called a coquettish voice.

Their gaze finally broke, as both of them snapped their eyes away to see who had spoken. A trio of young ladies had diverted from the walking path to head his way. Zelda recognized the leader of the trio: The Lady Aliza, dressed to the nines in a beautiful white walking dress, her gossamer thin wrap adorned in colorful floral embroidery that matched the trimming on her bonnet and gloves, each item carefully chosen to ensure their wearer was at the very peak of fashion. Aliza’s dark hair and complexion shone in the bright afternoon sunlight, and Zelda swore she could see her eyes sparkle from where she stood.

Aliza was the picture of a fashionable and proper young lady of society. Zelda instantly felt shabby, her own white walking dress now damp about the hem and smudged with dirt from her walk into the grass, and the fingers on her glove dingy from where she’d touched the tree while capturing the beetle. She had abandoned her bonnet and wrap not too long into their walk, the items preventing her from getting a close look at the plants and creatures they had seen along the way. She wished she had kept them on, abruptly realizing she was the only young lady in the park without a bonnet. She felt frustrated with herself, again letting her interests overwhelm her good sense. The duke must think her a child.

The Lady Aliza towed two other fashionable young ladies in her wake as she made her way to the duke. Zelda didn’t know the other two ladies, but she had encountered Aliza quite frequently at various social events in the past few years. Kind and sweet and a very pretty young lady, she would be an advantageous match for any gentleman. Nevertheless Aliza was a bit of a schemer; uninterested in making a love match and instead determined to land the richest and most titled husband she could. The new duke was just the sort of husband she had in mind: fabulously wealthy, handsome, and bearing one of the highest titles one could have in a country with no king or princes.

The duke seemed torn between his desire to speak with Zelda and the more polite move of responding to Aliza. Zelda found herself curious at what choice he would make. She resumed her glaring, attempting to challenge him in his choice. But before he could make up his mind, Aliza and her friends had caught up with him, Aliza barely giving him time to catch up his coat and hat before grabbing his arm and almost dragging him back to the walking path, chattering happily as she towed him along. Well, there was her answer. She maintained her glare as he glanced apologetically at her over his shoulder as he was pulled away. What could he be sorry for? Sorry that he didn't get the chance to embarrass her in public again? Zelda tossed her head and looked away, a strange feeling of indignation bubbling up inside of her as the ladies and their captive duke walked away.

Zelda let out a loud sigh, determinedly turning away, and abruptly realizing she wanted nothing more than to return home and rest before it was time to dress for dinner. She suddenly felt very weary after all of the walking they’d done that morning. Carefully releasing the beetle back to its home on the tree, she collected their things from the grass and hooked her arm through Paya’s.

“Come, Paya, let’s return home,” she said, and she drew Paya to the walking path.

Despite her resolve to keep the duke out of her thoughts, she found it nearly impossible to stop thinking about him as she walked. Naturally Lady Aliza was a better choice of company than she was, she reasoned. Aliza was beautiful, witty and charming. She wore all of the latest fashions, was an energetic dancer, and would make any man a wonderful wife, if she ever accepted any of the many proposals she received. She and the duke would be very happy together, Zelda thought acerbically. She kept seeing the duke walk off with Aliza, her hand on his arm, and felt a sick sort of anger build in her stomach. She pressed her palm to her middle, as if to keep the feeling inside her. Was she … jealous?! Ridiculous! What was there to be jealous of? She barely knew the duke, and honestly, did she even want to know him? She certainly had no claim to him. And Lady Aliza was perfectly lovely, even if she was a shameless flirt.

She was so caught up in her thoughts that she barely watched where she was going, and was forced to pull up short when she nearly ran into someone in her path. Apparently Paya was not watching where they were going either, as she was jerked back with a squeak at Zelda’s abrupt stop. Zelda looked up to apologize to whomever she had nearly run over, but the words caught in her throat, the basket full of their lunch remains slipping from her nerveless fingers to crash to the ground. It was Lord Ganon looming over her, his body blocking the bright sunlight and casting her into a deep shadow.

“My lady Zelda,” he said, taking her hand and pressing his lips to it as he bowed. Uncomfortable, Zelda pulled her hand away and stepped back. As always, he stood a little too close, and seemed to claim a familiarity she was unwilling to give him. Zelda was very glad Paya was there with her.

“M-My Lord Ganon!” Zelda stuttered. She knew he had planned to come to town for part of the season, but thought she would first encounter him at some social event or other, and thus have time to prepare herself. She never considered that she might meet him on the street! Her surprise left her feeling distinctly off-balanced, alarm mixing with her already jumbled emotions from the park.

“I pray you have been well?” he asked.

“I —” she began.

“And I trust your father is well?” he continued, not waiting for her response.

“Oh, he’s —” she managed before he carried on.

“Good, good. I hope you have been enjoying the season so far,” he said. Each pleasantry had been said in a bored tone, as if he were only going through the motions of polite conversation with her. He wasn’t even looking at her, instead looking about the street as if she weren’t even there. 

“Yes, it’s —” she attempted, but again, he spoke right over her.

“Wonderful,” he said, again as if she hadn’t been in the midst of speaking. Why speak to her at all if he wouldn’t allow her to get a word in edgewise?

“Please allow me to escort you home, so we may discuss the weeks ahead and how we may better get to know each other.”

She knew it wasn’t a request. She rankled at his presumptiveness, as if she was already his to direct and command. She desperately tried to come up with a suitable excuse to avoid having to walk alongside of him, but found herself at a loss. Instead she attempted to buy herself time by kneeling down to inspect her basket as it sat in the street. One of the bottles that had held their tea had cracked and the glass clinked together as she sorted through the basket. 

The noise seemed to draw his attention, and he looked down, seeming to really see her for the first time. Zelda hastily stood, wary of his scrutiny, his golden gaze almost a physical weight on her body. She began to understand how an insect must feel as it was studied under a magnifying glass.

“Oh, it’s alright, I —” 

But this time she cut herself off in surprise as he forced her hand onto his arm, and kept it there with the heavy pressure of his other hand. Everything in her yearned to protest, but he was so large, and so imposing, that she found herself too flustered to argue. She looked helplessly to Paya, but knew the girl could do nothing but try to keep up with them, hastily snatching up their basket and scrambling to follow. Ganon began to lead Zelda away, and she stumbled as she tried to keep up with his long stride. But they had only gone a short distance when a voice suddenly called out from behind her.

“My Lady Zelda! I’m so sorry to have kept you waiting!”

She turned in surprise only to see the Duke of Necluda at her side, apparently having managed to escape Lady Aliza’s clutches while Zelda was caught by Ganon. He had fixed his hair and put his coat back on in that time, which Zelda found oddly disappointing. Where had he come from? And what was he talking about?

“I … what?” she asked, too surprised to say anything more intelligent.

He looked at her for a moment before his eyes cut to Ganon, then back to her. She had been so shocked at the duke’s sudden appearance that she had managed to forget about Ganon for a moment. The duke didn’t wait for her to elaborate before he turned back to Ganon.

“My Lord Ganon,” he said, sketching a quick bow. Zelda’s brows raised in surprise. Did they know each other? Zelda turned to look up at Ganon, only to see his mouth pressed into a thin line and his brows drawn low over his eyes. So they must know each other, but they definitely were not friends.

Ganon nodded his head in greeting, giving the duke the barest courtesy possible.

“Your Grace ,” he said coldly, almost sneering the honorific. Zelda found herself suddenly desperately curious to know the story behind both men’s behavior toward each other, the dislike almost palpable between them.

“I thank you for entertaining Lady Zelda while I so rudely kept her waiting,” Link said. “But now we must be off.” The duke held his arm out for her and she stared at him a moment. She still had no idea what was going on, but knew that between the two evils presented here, the duke was a far better choice than Ganon. She slipped her hand out of Ganon’s grasp and took the duke’s arm gratefully.

“Yes! Right!” Zelda said. “Please excuse me, my lord.”

Zelda could practically feel Ganon’s displeasure radiating from him in hot waves. But whatever his feelings were at the moment, she was grateful that the number of people on the street meant he was unlikely to make a scene. The duke then turned to Paya.

“Please, allow me to take that for you,” the duke said, gently pulling the picnic basket from her arm as Paya blushed furiously. A duke! Carrying a basket for her! If Miss Zelda had no plans to swoon for him, Paya was more than willing to swoon in her stead.

Zelda tried to resist looking back at Ganon, though she could feel his gaze boring into her back as she walked away on the arm of the duke. When she finally could not resist the impulse  any longer, she glanced over her shoulder only to see that Ganon had vanished. She was relieved, but worried that his wrath at what had happened might manifest itself in an unpleasant way in the future.

But she decided that worry could wait for now, and turned her attention back to the duke. An awkward silence hovered between them as they walked. She had no idea what to say to him, the first time she had been this close to him since that day at the pond. Despite Paya and other people that crowded the street, it was as if they were alone together, and Zelda just did not know what to do with herself. She ran through a dozen different things to say to break the silence, but what ultimately left her mouth was not one of them.

“It seems you are in the habit of coming to my rescue, Your Grace,” she said, keeping her eyes on the ground as she walked. She winced when she realized how abrupt that must sound. But she couldn’t help it. She was so frustrated that she had been unable to say anything back to Ganon, or stop him from dragging her off. She hated that his overwhelming presence left her tongue tied and off balance. And she resented that, once again, she had had to rely on the duke for help.

He didn’t say anything for a moment, and Zelda finally chanced a glance his way. She was surprised to see he looked a bit tense, almost as if he was nervous. What could he possibly be nervous about? It surely could not be because of her. Perhaps it was his encounter with Lord Ganon. Maybe the duke’s history with him was even more dramatic than she had imagined.

As if he could sense her eyes on him, he looked up and met her eyes for a moment before looking ahead again. It seemed as if he wanted to say something, and he struggled for a moment before opening his mouth, then closing it again. She didn’t look away from him, waiting for him to say whatever was on his mind, and taking advantage of his proximity to study his features, noting his long eyelashes, the shape of his jaw, the curve of his mouth. Maybe she was making him nervous, staring at him as she was. She pulled her eyes away, but found she couldn’t look away for long. When she looked back she saw his lips pressed into a small frown — not that she was looking at his lips, what a ridiculous notion.

Once again she wondered what he was thinking, his face giving little away. She had almost given up on his saying anything to her at all when he finally spoke.

“It’s of no matter,” he said, glancing at her again before returning his eyes to the street. “You seemed to not want to go with him, and I am glad I was able to be of assistance.”

“Yes, I … yes, thank you,” she said. She was surprised he had struggled so much to make such a simple statement. 

Another awkward silence followed, and Zelda once more studied the ground as she walked. She couldn’t help but turn the few times they'd met over in her mind and wonder what he must think of her. Clearly he must pity her in some way, continually stepping into her life out of some misguided sense of chivalry.

The silence was beginning to wear on her. They had walked into the quieter residential streets and the noise of the park and busy street faded behind them. Paya trailed them at a respectful distance, but was too far to attempt conversation. Zelda felt on edge, equally afraid of anything she might say as she was of anything he might say. They did not have a great track record so far. She hoped this encounter would not end like the previous had, and so she wracked her brain for something to talk about. But once again the duke spoke before she came up with something.

“I do hope your day wasn’t ruined by your encounter, my lady,” he said. “You seemed to have been enjoying yourself at the park.”

She froze midstep, nearly losing her balance and tightening her grip on his arm for a moment before regaining her feet. What did that mean? Her overactive brain instantly seized on his words, spinning through every possibility. She thought back to when he last saw her, as she stood in the park with the beetle in her hands. Was this some strange way of mocking her? Had he been on his way over to her at the park to laugh at her? She could feel the blush rise in her cheeks again, and now it was her turn to frown at him. She just couldn’t think straight, couldn’t decide if he was sincere or if he was making fun of her. She was struck by the desire to run away again, as she always was in awkward situations, she thought ruefully. But to her relief, when she looked up she saw they were almost at the door to her godmother’s townhome.

She halted abruptly, her hand on his arm jerking him back as he had continued without realizing she had stopped. She had been so deep in her thoughts she had almost forgotten about Paya walking behind them until her maid nearly crashed into her. She could feel the duke looking at her in confusion, but Zelda refused to meet his eyes. She knew if she looked it would just be harder for her to break away, and getting away from him, from everybody, was all she wanted to do at that moment.

“Indeed, I had been,” she said stiffly. “It had been one bright spot in a day otherwise full of unpleasant encounters.” She pulled her hand away from his arm and stepped back, still avoiding his eyes.

She curtsied quickly, saying, “Again, I thank you for your assistance today, Your Grace,” then hastily turned and walked to the front door.

The duke remained standing in the street, watching her go, still with a look of confusion on his face. Paya came up to him to collect their basket. As she approached, he gave a frustrated sigh, his eyes locked on Zelda’s retreating form.

“I just can’t seem to say the right things,” he said, finally looking away from where Zelda had entered the house and noticing Paya.

She couldn’t help but blush under his direct regard; he was so handsome and had been so kind to them, and it wasn’t every day that a duke noticed her at all. He seemed to hope she had an answer for him. But she didn’t, and didn’t feel it was really her place to try to explain her mistress’s behavior. Not that she could if she wanted to. Instead, she gently tugged the basket from his hand and stepped back, giving him an apologetic smile and a hasty curtsy before following her mistress into the house.

Chapter Text

Excerpt from the diary of Lady Zelda Bosphoramus:

I behaved something awful to him today ... My attempts to find a suitor are going nowhere, and after the encounter with Lord Ganon, I was feeling depressed. He did not need to come to my rescue, nor accompany me. But he did anyway. He seemed confused by my anger. I feel terribly guilty … and that guilt only makes me more agitated than I was before.

The next several days after the incident at the park passed pleasantly, Zelda spending her days with Paya exploring the city, and her evenings with Urbosa attending concerts and dinner parties. Despite practically seeing the duke around every corner for two days straight, he was blissfully absent from her sight since she’d left him in the street that day.

That evening, they dined with the Viscountess Liana, an old friend of Urbosa and Zelda’s mother. The ladies had been laughing over many glasses of voltfruit wine, reminiscing over their youthful adventures. Zelda had enjoyed hearing the stories of her mother’s escapades as a girl while she sampled the varied and delectable parade of dishes that had crossed the table, featuring ingredients from all over Hyrule. But she was saving her appetite for the main course, an intriguing seafood and rice dish that Liana called paella.

“The recipe is courtesy of the Duke of Necluda,” Liana divulged as the servants brought out large, steaming pans heaped with rice, vegetables and seafood. Her pride at such a lofty acquaintance was evident. “I begged him to share it with me. He told me he developed it himself after he was stationed on the coast at Lurelin!”

She stared down at her plate of paella. It smelled divine but her appetite had fled, and she could only push the mussels and shrimp about in the rice. Guilt curled through her stomach. She was embarrassed at how she had left him that day at the park, a bare word of thanks before she fled. He had been so kind to save her from Ganon’s attentions, but once again she had let her own assumptions overtake her. She knew she had overreacted, reading something into his behavior that wasn’t there. She had tried once again to forget all about him, but he was distressingly persistent in her memories.

The next day she and Paya visited the booksellers again. Zelda was hoping she could acquire her own copy of the book on shrines she’d seen the last time they were there. The book that now belonged to the duke. She also had to admit to herself that she hoped that this time the duke himself would come to the shop, instead of sending a servant. But to her disappointment, the shop was empty but for Paya and her. It seemed another copy of the book on shrines had not arrived, and so, outside of a field guide to insects in Hyrule inspired by her bladed rhino beetle find in the park, they left without buying anything else.

On their way out of the store, too engrossed in her new field guide to pay attention, Zelda suddenly collided with someone entering the shop, causing her to drop her book to the ground with a loud smack.

“Oh!” she said, reeling back. “I am so sorry!”

“It’s no matter, my lady,” said a gentleman. The morning sunshine was filtering in through the book shop’s large front window, backlighting the man she’d crashed into so that she couldn’t really see his features. He bent down to collect her book, but in the dim light of the shop all she could see was a well-made but slightly shabby hat with a rounded crown and a mass of dark curly hair stuffed underneath. “It is I who must apologize for not watching where I was going.”

He stood again to hand her book back to her, and his face was hidden by shadow once more. She only got a brief impression of his features, in that he looked to be about middle aged, with a round face and deep set eyes. He bobbed his head to her and continued on into the store. She watched him for a moment before turning to Paya, handing her the book to tuck into the shopping basket she carried. Zelda had the odd feeling that the man had run into her on purpose, but what that purpose would be she couldn’t say. The two ladies stepped onto the street, and as they went past the shop’s large display window, Zelda happened to glance back in, only to see the odd man looking out, his eyes, shaded an unusual deep red, focused directly on her.

She shook her head. She was being silly, ascribing such ill intent to a stranger. It was surely a coincidence. Though she considered her recent luck with coincidences, and realized she had believed for an instance that the man she had collided with was the duke. And then she was disappointed when she realized he wasn’t. Last week she had been frustrated when she couldn’t seem to escape the duke, and now she was upset when she didn't see him everywhere. She told herself that she only wanted to see him so she could apologize for her behavior the day before, and thank him again for his assistance. And that was it, right? When did this all become so mixed up in her head?

The rest of the day passed without incident, and that night she and Urbosa dressed in their newest finery for a night concert outdoors. Urbosa wore a gown of rich purple silk with gold trimming at the hemline, her light gauze wrap embroidered all over in swirling Gerudo designs in fuschia, turquoise, violet, gold and tangerine. Zelda chose a gown in a simple design in a deep emerald green that matched her eyes, and a sheer overskirt embroidered in a leaf pattern falling from the high waistline.

She had acquired several new dresses since arriving in Castle Town, all courtesy of Urbosa’s pocketbook and Paya’s sense of style, and the ladies had enjoyed several afternoons holding bolts of fabric up to Zelda’s face, and putting their heads together with the modiste over fashion plates to choose the best designs. Though she usually favored more muted colors, she was enjoying wearing the bright jewel colors her godmother chose, as if she were desirous of standing out more than she did at home.

The concert was at a nearby outdoor concert hall, the musicians performing on an elaborate stage set up for the summer. Stalls scattered about the park sold glasses of champagne and lemonade; baskets filled with cheeses, bread and fruit; bags of roasted nuts; small skewers filled with grilled meats and mushrooms; bottles of wine; sweets and candies; and more. The night was warm, a light breeze keeping the air fresh, and Zelda and Urbosa chose to enjoy the weather and walk to the concert. They saw several acquaintances along the way, stopping frequently to chat with friends. It seemed the whole of Castle Town’s fashionable set would be at the concert.

Except for one. Again, Zelda squashed down a sense of disappointment, realizing that even were he here, she might not even encounter the duke in the crush of people in the park. But still … she hadn’t seen Aryll since the night at the ball, now several days past, and wondered if the girl still wanted to be her friend. Zelda had genuinely enjoyed chatting with her, and was angry at herself for letting her emotions get away with her and potentially destroy the friendship before it had a chance to blossom. She was certain the girl was giving her space after her performance at the ball, and Zelda had been too cowardly to reach out. Zelda resolved to write to her the next day, to make the first move. She still wasn’t sure what the emotions were that the duke stirred within her, but she was certain she could put them aside in the name of friendship with Aryll.

The concert was soon to begin, and she and Urbosa still needed to secure a suitable place to sit. While she glanced about for a free spot, she happened to spy a stall across the park, a fanciful picture of a cake on the sign and a counter piled high with nutcakes, carrot cakes, and Zelda’s favorite: fruit cake. She had to get a piece before the concert began, and proceeded to drag her godmother off to the stall. In her enthusiasm, Zelda did not see the figure leaning against a nearby tree stand and begin following them from a discreet distance, his deep red eyes never losing sight of her.

It had reached midsummer, and the days had grown hot and heavy. It was the halfway point of the season, and the frenetic pace of social events usually tapered off for a while to give everyone a much needed break when the days were at their hottest. Zelda had been in Castle Town for a month and a half, and while she was enjoying her time in the city with her godmother, she found herself a bit homesick. And after so long in the noise and bustle of the city, she craved the peace of the countryside. Soon she and Paya were ensconced in a carriage and on their way back to Lanayru for a few days.

They arrived just before dinner, Impa coming out to greet them.

“Oh, my lady, I am so glad to see you and Paya! We have all missed you both,” the older woman said.

Zelda looked around, surprised that her father was not there to greet her.

“Impa, where is my father? Does he know we’ve arrived?” she asked.

Impa shook her head.

“It’s unfortunate, you have just missed your lord father,” she said.

Surprised, Zelda wondered where her father could have gone. He rarely left Lanayru these days, more often sending out his man of business to see to his needs on the estate and in town.

“It was the strangest thing,” Impa told her. “He received a letter yesterday morning requesting his presence in Castle Town, and he left that afternoon. Your letter arrived in the post not long after. You’ve only just missed him.”

Zelda’s return to Lanayru was a bit spur of the moment, the note she’d sent to warn Impa of their arrival coming in on the late post. But she found she didn’t mind so much. She missed her father of course, and had been keeping him as up to date on her activities in the city as much as she felt necessary, but did not relish the prospect of a face-to-face interrogation about suitors and eligible bachelors. Especially when she had little to share on that front. So it seemed she would have a truly relaxing stay at home before returning to the city.

The next morning dawned grey and rainy, and it sprinkled intermittently throughout the day. Zelda stayed close to home, reacquainting herself with the books in the Gallery, spending a quiet afternoon enjoying a pot of tea and one of her favorite storybooks. After some time, she took a break to rest her eyes and looked out the window. The Gallery windows looked out over the estate gardens, and she saw that the rain didn’t prevent the head gardener and his team from their work.

She sat a while, watching them weed and plant and till. The gardening team seemed larger than usual, and Zelda guessed that the head gardener had hired some men from the village to assist him. She recognized some familiar faces amongst the flower beds, but there were many she had never met before. Soon the midafternoon sun began to peek through the clouds as the rain made its way to the north, and Zelda returned to reading her book, unaware of the deep red eyes that watched her from behind the rose bushes.

The next day she was glad to see was clear and sunny, and Zelda put on her walking boots and one of her comfortable dresses and headed out into the country for a long walk. She brought her new field guide to insects along, planning to inspect the trees and bushes in the area for any rare beetles or butterflies, and perhaps collect some interesting rocks and plant life along the way. Her pockets full, of course, with several handkerchiefs, a small notebook, and a pencil to record any notes while she was out.

Zelda relished her sense of freedom as she walked, truly alone for the first time in many weeks. Unlike in the city, Zelda could walk about without an escort while at home in the country. She loved Paya’s company, but having to constantly bring her along felt stifling sometimes.

Soon her walk took her to the pond where she had encountered the octorock a few months ago. And the duke. Again she felt a pang of guilt for how she had left things in the city, now unavoidable whenever he came to mind. Which was more frequent than she’d like to admit. Before she left she had written to Aryll to suggest they meet for tea when Zelda returned to the city, and she could only hope there was an enthusiastic acceptance awaiting her when she returned. And from Aryll, Zelda would move on to the duke. She would apologize to him and they could be … whatever it was they were. She needed to move on and enjoy the rest of her summer and make the most of the season as she’d promised she would, and she couldn’t do that before she made her apologies.

She avoided the pond itself, wary of another octorock. Although the octorock that had attacked her had been killed, that did not mean another hadn’t moved into the pond since then, and she did not want to chance another muddy dunking. She was content instead to poke about in the bushes and reeds that surrounded the pond, observing the clusters of darner eggs and several chrysalises promising more summerwing butterflies in the next few days. She was sketching her findings in her notebook when she heard the clop of horses’ hooves and the rattle of carriage wheels on the road.

The road that passed the pond was not one that saw a lot of traffic, especially at this time of year. Zelda wondered who it could be — was it perhaps her father returning from the city? But that seemed unlikely, since Impa had told her she didn’t expect him back for another few days. She expected the carriage to continue down the road, but realized she no longer heard the sounds of horses or wheels. It was unlikely to have passed beyond her hearing in such a short time, and soon, curiosity got the better of her. She couldn’t see the road from where she sat, so she pocketed her notebook and pencil, gathered up her field guide, and went to investigate. Perhaps something had happened to the carriage or driver, and she could lend some assistance.

As she made her way around the pond and to the road, she could finally see the carriage. It was an elegant vehicle, made of a highly polished dark wood, but showed no coat of arms or other markings to identify its owner. A team of two large black horses with red manes stood quietly in the traces, gently swishing their tails to discourage the flies that attempted to land on their shining coats. She hesitated. Those were Gerudo horses, like the ones she’d seen pulling Lord Ganon’s carriage. Could he have come out for another visit? That seemed unlikely, but not impossible. Zelda wavered. She had no desire to see Lord Ganon again, but on the other hand, anyone in the carriage would have seen her approach by now, and it would have been beyond rude for her turn away now.

Something about the entire situation put her on edge. It was all so strange. And every detail she observed just added to the strangeness. The door to the carriage stood ajar, and no driver sat at the reins. She could see a glimpse of the plush interior, upholstered in deep red and black, through the open door. There seemed to be no one inside the carriage.

As it had so often in the past, Zelda’s curious mind overtook her sense of caution. She was by herself, where no one would hear her if she were to scream, and yet, the odd carriage pulled to her. Why was it out here? Where was the driver? Why did it appear no one was inside the carriage? Her feet drew her inexorably closer, and soon she stood only a few feet away from the open door.

“Hello? Are you alright? Can I offer any assistance?” she called out.

She received no reply. She waited a few moments more, but still, no response. It seemed even the birds and insects had gone quiet, a hush falling over the area. Zelda hesitated once again. Perhaps she should go get help before getting any closer to the carriage. Perhaps … but no. What if the driver or their passenger was injured somehow, and unable to call out? What if a delay to get help meant they could die from these injuries? She slowly made the last few steps to the door of the carriage, nervously clutching her field guide to her chest. She angled her body so that she could peer into the carriage without touching the door. Upon not seeing anyone on that side, she cautiously opened the door wider, and bent her head around to look into the other side.

She only had a moment to register that the interior of the carriage was empty before a hand clamped over her mouth, pinning a cloth against her face and filling her nose with the musky scent of silent shrooms. She gasped in surprise, inadvertently drawing more of the elixir soaking the cloth into her lungs. Her vision swam, and she swayed, her field guild tumbling from her limp fingers. Then everything went black.

Zelda groggily awoke to darkness, the bump and rattle that surrounded her telling her that she was in a carriage. Her head was pounding, and the rough jolting of the carriage was not helping. It was dark, hot and stuffy, and she was desperately thirsty, her mouth dry and full of an awful, metallic taste. Where was she? What was happening?

She muzzily tried to remember the events of the past few hours. She had gone for a walk, and visited the pond. And then … the empty carriage. The cloth over her mouth. She’d been kidnapped! But who … ? But then she remembered the horses, tall and dark with red manes and tails. The type only bred in Gerudo. Ganon. It had to be. But why?

Another jolt from the carriage nearly sent her sliding off the bench seat she was perched on, but she scrambled and managed to keep herself upright. The fact that the springs on the expensive looking carriage could not keep up with the potholes and ruts on the road told her they were moving very fast. How long had she been out? She had no way of knowing, and a quick glimpse through the curtains only showed her unfamiliar countryside and gave her no clues as to their destination.

Perhaps she should raise a ruckus to get the driver’s attention, and then when he came to check on her … what? She didn’t know where she was, and she still didn’t feel completely recovered from whatever they had used to knock her out. She remembered the scent of silent shrooms. She knew enough about their use in elixirs to know that she would be feeling groggy for quite some time. She would likely be unable to overcome the driver, and a look around the carriage did not reveal anything she might use as a weapon.

She decided it would be best to remain quiet and let them think she was still unconscious. Instead, she would treat her situation as she might a new piece of ancient technology: Inspect its surroundings, make note of the details, and try to deduce the purpose. The interior of the carriage did not offer much, the seats and floor clean and free of any information. She even stuck her hand into the cushions, not finding so much as a crumb. It had two doors on either side, and both were locked. The locks did not seem to be very sturdy, but were more than she could handle without drawing attention to herself.

The windows had curtains over them that blocked quite a bit of light, and were made of a thick glass. She gave one an experimental push, and had a brief thrill of hope when it moved. But that quickly died when she realized the window only opened a little from the bottom, just enough to let in a thread of fresh air. Which explained why it was so hot and stuffy inside the carriage. She pressed her nose to the narrow opening and sucked in as much fresh air as she could. Her head cleared a bit with cooler air, and she returned to trying to solve her predicament with a renewed vigor.

The window was certainly not a suitable means of escape. The narrow opening would barely admit a piece of paper. Paper! If only she had some paper, she could … wait a moment, her notebook! Zelda was glad she had thought to stuff it and her pencil into her pocket before she approached the carriage. She found a fresh page, and twitched the curtain aside to give herself a bit of light. In large letters she wrote:

ZELDA BOSPHORAMUS

KIDNAPPED

TELL LANAYRU

SEND HELP!

She tore the page from her notebook and folded it in half, writing HELP in large letters on both sides. Then she tucked her pencil within the fold to give her note weight so it wouldn’t blow away in an errant breeze. She held the window open, then paused to listen, worried the driver might notice her activities. Thankfully it seemed she remained undetected, and she slipped the note out the window. For now, that was enough. She sat back, then settled herself as comfortably on the seat as she could. It would be best to wait out the rest of the journey and fully recover from the effects of the elixir. When she arrived wherever the carriage was taking her, she would come up with a new plan of escape.

After about another hour, the carriage began to slow, which led Zelda to think that either the horses were tiring, or they were nearing their destination. From what she knew of Gerudo horses, they could run at a high speed seemingly for hours without tiring, and she reasoned they must have already been traveling at high speed for a couple of hours before she awoke. Therefore they likely had come far enough that the driver felt safe enough to slow down. Zelda felt nervous, sure that they must be near their destination. And after another half hour or so, the carriage slowed even more, turned, then finally came to a stop. Zelda braced herself at the sound of feet dropping heavily to the ground, and then the click of the lock on the door to her right.

The door opened, letting in a flood of hot, bright sunlight, nearly blinding her after the darkness of the carriage. Despite the heat, the air outside was degrees cooler than the interior of the carriage, and she could feel the sweat on her face dry in the arid breeze that blew past. She instantly felt more alert in the fresh air of the yard they had pulled into, and she tried to give herself a moment for her eyes to adjust to the light. But before she could do much more, a hand reached in and grabbed her wrist before unceremoniously dragging her outside.

She stumbled down the carriage steps, only barely managing to catch herself before she could sprawl onto the ground. She whipped her head around to face the driver, his hand still locked about her wrist.

“You!” she gasped, as she met his deep red eyes. The man she’d run into at the bookseller’s! So it hadn’t been a coincidence! He let go of her hand and smirked at her, bending into a dramatic bow and sweeping his arm out grandly.

“Khoga, my lady. At your service!” he said mockingly.

She tore her attention away from him to see where he had brought her. A stable, with a large inn standing next to it, nestled into the canyon between two cliffs. She instantly knew where she was, having passed through here several times on her way to visit Urbosa. The Gerudo Canyon Inn and Stable.

Normally, the stable was bustling, horses coming in and out and stablehands rushing about, saddling horses and bringing hay and water into the stalls. The inn itself was often full, its location at the entrance to the Gerudo desert making it an ideal spot for weary travellers and merchants to rest and board their horses before continuing into the desert. But there was none of the noise and activity one would expect at such a busy location. Instead it was eerily quiet, the large staff either absent or hiding, no patrons to be seen. Zelda felt a chill climb up her back, the silence unnerving.

“Ah, Khoga, at last. I see you have brought me my bride!” a voice boomed out from the shadows near the inn. Lord Ganon strode into the stable yard.

Khoga bowed, still holding on to her wrist as if she might run at any moment. She wished she could, but had to be realistic — where could she go? They were so far from her home, so far from anyone that could help her. The one person in Gerudo who could help her was waiting for her in a townhouse in Castle Town. And Zelda could not survive in the desert on her own.

“Yes, my lord. It all went as you said,” he replied. “I encountered no trouble and I doubt pursuit will follow. No one saw us on the road.”

As he said? How long had Ganon been planning this? She looked at Khoga, and remembered their encounter at the bookseller’s. Had he been following her? How else could he have known she was at Lanayru? Or that she’d gone to the pond, where she would be isolated? She remembered her relief at not having to bring Paya along for her walk. But she doubted it would have made much of a difference. Either Paya would have been dragged along, or perhaps injured and left behind. Or perhaps, worse.

At last Ganon turned to look her way, having ignored her so far despite dragging her all this way. Not that she was surprised, he had never seemed to think of her as anything more than an object. His lip curled in distaste as he took in her faded dress and disheveled hair. Well, what did he expect after stuffing her into a stifling carriage for several hours? She had found Ganon so intimidating before, afraid to say anything to him or have him notice her. Now he just made her angry. Zelda stood as straight as she could and lifted her chin. She would not cringe before him, not anymore. 

“Well? Come along. The day grows late and we have quite a journey ahead of us. I’m sure you’d like to freshen up before we leave,” Ganon said, turning his back on her and walking back into the inn. Khoga got behind her and gave her a shove to get her walking, then clamped his hand on her shoulder to make sure she didn’t attempt to get away. She tried to shake him off, so she could walk under her own power, with dignity, but his grip was tight and he wouldn’t let go.

The inn was built into the lee of the canyon, keeping most of the building in the shade and out of the intense Gerudo sun. The interior was blessedly cool after the heat of the stableyard, and was similarly devoid of patrons and staff. Ganon must have done something to drive them off so that no one would be able to report back on his actions. He sat down at a table, gesturing grandly to the chair opposite him, as if she had a choice to sit or not. Khoga maneuvered her toward the chair and then pushed her into it. She sat back, folding her arms across her chest and frowning at Ganon.

“Please, help yourself to some refreshments,” he said, gesturing to the table filled with chilled salads and plates of sandwiches, a pitcher of ice cold lemonade in the center. Did he really think she would sit and enjoy a casual lunch with him after he’d kidnapped her and dragged her across the country? The man must be deluded.

She had been hungry but the sight and smell of the food turned her stomach. But oh, she was so thirsty. Zelda swallowed drily as she watched a bead of condensation slide down the side of the pitcher. It had to be very cold, to pull moisture out of the dry desert air, she thought. So cold, and sweet, and refreshing. She wanted to grab the pitcher and drink the whole thing. But no, she thought, holding onto her resolve tightly. She would not give him the satisfaction.

“Why have you brought me here?” she demanded.

He hummed as if he had to think about an answer. He then reached across the table, taking the pitcher and pouring her a glass of lemonade, taking his time and drawing out each action. He carefully set the pitcher down, before returning to his seat and tenting his fingers in front of him, his golden eyes regarding her from across the table. Zelda could feel her eyebrows draw down and her lips tighten into a frown with each passing second she went unanswered.

“Oh, don’t make faces like that, it will give you wrinkles!” Ganon said. She made an effort to frown even harder and he laughed. “Well, I can’t have my wife looking older than her years, can I? And we are to be married, are we not?”

At that her expression reversed almost entirely, her brows shooting up on her forehead and her mouth relaxing in surprise. While she may have felt it inevitable, she certainly hadn’t acquiesced to his proposal. For that matter, he hadn’t even asked her, only suggesting the idea to her father! Once again she found herself shocked at his presumption. Though she had to ask herself why she was surprised when he had gone so far as to kidnap her to force her into marriage.

When she said nothing more, he continued, still smiling at her. Clearly, with no one to see him, he felt confident enough to relax and be himself, to not need to hide behind propriety and decorum.

“I thought, why should we delay the inevitable? Why not simply get the happy event over with so that we may begin our lives together!”

“What?!” she demanded. “I never agreed to marry you!”

“No,” he said thoughtfully. “But your father did already agree on your behalf. Now I know you had convinced him to wait until the end of the summer, but I believe the delights of the season to be too overwhelming for your delicate nature, so full of … distractions. Best that you settle down now and avoid any unnecessary entanglements.”

Once again she cursed her father’s ambitions. But despite all of that, he never would have let Ganon marry her without her approval. Her father had only agreed to allow him to court her, and gave his blessing should they decide to marry. It was clear Ganon did not care for that distinction. And what did he mean by distractions and entanglements? A few concerts and dinners weren’t distractions, and she certainly hadn’t gotten entangled … Suddenly she remembered that day at the park, and how angry Ganon had looked when the duke had taken her away from him. Did he think she and the duke had an understanding?

And even if they did, what did it matter to Ganon? He couldn’t be in love with her. They had only really met the one time. And love at first sight only happened in romance novels and story books, not real life. He certainly didn’t act like a man in love. Her mind raced. What did he want with her? She was certain he could find a more willing bride, more suited to his lifestyle, than she. Well, honesty was always the best policy, she thought. But despite her resolve to not let Ganon intimidate her any longer, she still found herself nervous to confront him. She took in a deep breath to give herself courage.

“What is it you want from me?” she asked him. “And please, do not pretend you are in love with me.”

Between her nerves and her dry mouth, the words almost caught in her throat. She finally relented, snatching up the glass of lemonade and taking a few sips. As soon as the cold liquid crossed her parched tongue she had to resist the urge to drink the whole glass down. No. She was restrained and in control. Suddenly it occurred to her that he might have drugged any of the food or drink. Well, there was nothing for it now.

Ganon looked at her appraisingly, as if he just now realized she was a being of wit and intelligence and not just some empty headed girl. It’s not as if he’d actually tried to get to know her, she thought ruefully. More than likely he was disappointed at his realization. But instead of an answer, he simply smiled at her. Did he want her to figure it out on her own, or did he just not care to tell her?

She desperately reviewed their few interactions, trying to come up with anything that might give her a clue as to his motivations. He had come from Gerudo for dinner, had spoken mostly to her father the entire time, and then they’d gone to the Gallery. Ganon calmly watched while she thought, simply waiting to hear whatever conclusion she reached. The Gallery … she remembered his odd reaction to the sculpture of the sword of legend.

“Wait a moment. Is all of this about the sword?!” she asked incredulously. “You couldn’t possibly believe those stories about becoming king?”

He raised his eyebrows and smiled indulgently at her declaration.

“And what if I do?” he asked her. “Is it truly so ridiculous? Surely you know the story: Long ago a Gerudo man became mad with power and attempted to conquer Hyrule until his defeat at the hands of the hero and the princess.

“But what you may not know is that the women of Gerudo used that story to rob men of their influence and power, to keep them from being able to inherit property that is rightfully theirs, all in the name of keeping the peace with Hyrule. But if I were king, I would rule over both Gerudo and Hyrule and finally have the power and recognition I deserve!”

Zelda stared at him in shock. He had managed to become a lord and landowner in Gerudo against the odds, and already was wealthy and influential, and that wasn’t enough? He was willing to risk everything for a vague promise out of a story?

“But it’s just a story!” she said in disbelief. “Besides, you were unable to draw the sword — if it even truly is a sword. And frankly, even if you were successful, what guarantee do you have that you’d be recognized as king by anyone?”

“True, I could not pull the sword when I first tried,” Ganon said. “However, if I were the lord of Lanayru, I would have my lifetime to try. Surely some sort of preference is given to whomever is lord of the estate and thus owns the sword. And once I’ve drawn it, I have few concerns about being recognized as king. I have already made many of the steps I’ll need to take to achieve my goal.”

So it never was about her, not really. She was simply a means to an end. It alsmost was a relief. But thinking about what she’d heard from Urbosa about how Ganon had been able to become lord of Dinraal, despite the many laws and restrictions in his way, she did not believe for a moment that her life would extend too far past their marriage. Her heart clenched at the thought of Urbosa, and her father, and Impa and Paya … they must know she was missing by this point. They would all be terribly worried about her. She hoped someone had found her note, that some sort of rescue was on its way.

“And now,” Ganon said, rising from the table. “I believe it is time for us to move on. Everyone at Dinraal is awaiting our arrival! We do not want to be late for our own wedding, now do we?”

“My father will never accept this marriage!” she said in a last ditch effort to keep him talking. She needed to delay their departure from the stable for as long as she could, to give any rescue time to arrive.

“Won’t he? He’s already all but promised you to me. I am sure I can spin a tale to convince him you came with me willingly. And think of the scandal if the … truth … were to get out,” he said, smiling at her nastily. “That you were so desperate to marry me that you came out here on your own and threw yourself at my feet. ”

She gasped in affront. How dare he! She wasn’t desperate for anyone, much less for Ganon! She wanted to argue, but Khoga had reappeared, grabbing her arm and pulling her up from her chair. She thought about trying to resist, but determined it would be futile. He was much too strong, his grip tight about her arm. And where would she go? With no staff or patrons about, she had no one to appeal to, and she was unfamiliar enough with the inn that she knew she could not find a hiding place in time. So she allowed him to tow her outside to the yard. Perhaps some means of escape would suggest itself out there.

Ganon led the way, Khoga pulling her along behind him, back outside to the carriage. An identical pair of Gerudo horses were hitched to the carriage, their gleaming coats free of road dust and sweat. She supposed that had been where Khoga was while she and Ganon had been inside, fitting the carriage with fresh horses for the journey to Dinraal. She had heard little noise since they’d arrived at the inn and stables, even the birds and animals quiet in the heat of the desert afternoon. But as Khoga dragged her toward the carriage she could hear a distant thudding, like the sound of hooves pounding the road, steadily approaching the stable.

Clearly the two men heard the sound as well and reached the same conclusion. Was rescue finally on its way? She felt hope surge within her at the thought.

“Get her into the carriage!” Ganon shouted. 

Khoga yanked open the carriage door and hauled her around before him. She tried to resist, pressing her free hand to the side of the carriage, but he easily knocked her aside and roughly shoved her in, locking the door behind her. She quickly tried the door opposite the one she entered through, twisting and tugging on the knob. It didn’t yield, dashing her hope that they had forgotten to lock it in their haste to get her inside. She gave up on the door and moved to sit on the carriage seat to try to plan her next move.

At that moment she heard the noise of the horse galloping into the yard, then the sound of voices shouting, then the energetic whinny of a horse. Her heart sank. Only one horse? Could one man take on both Khoga and Ganon? Hopefully there were more not far behind. Zelda gave up on trying to get the doors open and instead hastily pushed the curtains aside to see what was happening. Unfortunately, the carriage had been turned so that all she could see from one window was row upon row of the stall doors that stretched across the front of the stable. The other window only offered a view of the inn. The entirety of the stable yard was blocked from her view, no matter how awkwardly she craned her head to see. Instead, she pressed her ear to the narrow crack afforded by the open carriage window.

She heard more shouting, then the sounds of fighting, followed by the clash of metal. A sword fight? Perhaps, or they had gone at each other with knives. She could hardly bear not being able to see what was happening. Who had come to her rescue? Were they succeeding? She could not tell from what she was hearing out of the window, the sounds distorted by the confines of the stable yard and the cliffs behind it. The fighting continued for a moment before someone gave a yell and she heard the heavy thud of a body hitting the ground. The voice had sounded like Khoga. Where had Ganon gone? She held her breath, straining her ears in an attempt to learn what was happening outside the carriage. Then, from across the yard —

“Ganon! I demand you release Lady Zelda!”

Was that the duke ?! Zelda could not believe her ears. How did he even know she was missing? Had he ridden all this way to rescue her? By himself? She put her exasperation at that away for later, when they were safe. Because they would be safe, she had to believe that. Zelda shook off her shock, and gathered her wits together. She couldn’t just sit here, she had to try to get out of the carriage. She would not let her escape rest solely on the duke. If he were to fall — she firmly pushed the thought out of her mind.

She stilled a moment, pressing her ear to the window once again to hear what was happening in the yard. She heard someone speak, but could not make out what he said. She was sure, however, that it was Ganon, and that he’d moved away from the carriage. She hoped he was distracted enough that he wouldn’t hear what she was going to do. Both carriage doors were locked, but she knew the locks generally weren’t that sturdy. So she braced herself against the plush bench seat, lifted her foot and slammed it against the door to her left as hard as she could.

The door and the window rattled, and she paused to see if anyone heard her. She could still hear voices raised in argument, the duke’s and Ganon’s she guessed. She didn’t know what had happened to Khoga. After a few moments went by and it seemed her efforts went undetected, she began to kick at the door in earnest, slamming her foot against the door near the lock again and again. If she had anything to be grateful for, it was that she had been kidnapped while wearing her sturdy walking boots and not some flimsy lady’s slippers. After several hard kicks, she could tell by the increased rattling of the door that the lock was beginning to loosen. But still the door remained shut. 

Zelda paused again, needing a brief rest. She was alarmed when she realized that the yard had gone quiet, no sounds of voices or fighting or anything. She nearly leapt out of her skin when the simultaneous bangs of two pistols firing rang out over the yard. The horses, spooked by the sound, began to snort and shuffled in the traces, causing the carriage to rock and move about. Clearly she had missed something, lost in the noise of kicking the door open.

She became even more desperate to escape and discover what was happening outside the carriage. The interior was as hot and stuffy as it had been earlier, and her activities had made her feel even hotter. Her breath came in short pants, the stifling interior of the carriage, the shouting and fighting and the gunshots, putting her on the verge of panic. She used the adrenaline that began to course through her as fuel, her legs filled with a renewed strength. She braced herself once more and gave the door another few solid kicks before finally hearing a metallic snap as the lock broke and the door flew open.

But just as the lock gave way beneath her foot, she felt the front of the carriage dip forward under the weight of someone climbing into the driver’s seat. Her panic surged, and she scrambled onto her feet and dove out of the door and into the dirt of the yard, falling hard on her shoulder between the wheels of the carriage and the doors of the stable. Luckily her momentum caused her to roll into the stable doors rather than the carriage wheels, because as soon as she hit the ground the wheels began to roll and the carriage pulled away. She looked up in time to see Ganon whipping the horses up to a gallop and fleeing through the stable yard gate.

She rolled into a sitting position and sat back against the stable doors. She moved her shoulder experimentally, and reached the conclusion that she had only bruised it in her fall. Zelda continued to sit in the dirt, too overcome to do much more than stare out of the gate after the vanished carriage. She had one quiet moment before someone walked up, cast her in their shadow.

“My lady, are you hurt?”

She looked up to the duke bending over her, extending his hand to help her up. She peered up at him for a moment, relieved to see that he seemed unharmed, before taking his hand and allowing him to pull her to her feet. She attempted to brush the worst of the dirt and dust off of her skirt but gave it up for a lost cause after a moment. It seemed she was doomed to be forever grimy and covered in dirt in his presence.

“How ever did you find me?” she asked instead of answering his question. He gave her a smile and gestured toward the inn.

“Let’s go inside and see what refreshments we might be able to find, and I promise I’ll answer all of your questions,” he said. Zelda remembered the table full of salads and sandwiches in the cool interior of the inn and felt her stomach rumble with hunger. She hadn’t eaten since breakfast that morning, and had worked up quite the appetite after the adventures of the day. She felt far more comfortable indulging when Ganon wasn’t staring her down.

The duke escorted her to the table and pulled a chair out for her to sit, before excusing himself and disappearing into the back of the inn. The food that had turned her stomach only an hour ago now seemed delectable, and Zelda quickly cleaned her hands before hungrily filling her plate and beginning to eat. She poured a fresh glass of the lemonade she had been craving before, this time drinking the entire glass in triumph before refilling it. Since she had suffered no ill effects from the few sips she’d taken earlier, she reasoned it must not be poisoned after all. And it tasted so much sweeter now that she was free from Ganon.

The duke was gone for quite some time before he returned to the dining room with an older, grateful looking gentleman wearing a white apron, along with several more people in the uniforms of stable workers, maids and waiters. Zelda looked at the duke questioningly as he came to sit across from her at the table and began to fill his own plate full of food.

“It seems Ganon bought out all of the rooms and stalls in the inn and stables, then had the innkeeper and his staff locked into the cellars,” he said. “I asked them to open one of the rooms for you so that you can rest before the carriage arrives to take you home.”

Now that the rush and excitement of her rescue and escape was over, and she had had a few minutes to herself, her previous bravado faded and left her feeling a bit shy, sitting face to face with the duke that had plagued her thoughts and caused her turmoil since she’d met him.

“I … thank you,” she said. She had finished her meal before he had returned with the inn’s staff, and so instead she fiddled with her napkin to occupy her hands. She looked around at the empty dining room, realizing no one else must have come with him on his rescue mission.

“Did you come out here by yourself? That seems … reckless.”

He paused, looking up at her strangely. Zelda suddenly realized how rude she must seem, questioning his methods when he’d done so much for her. She could feel her face heating in embarrassment.

“No, never mind! I’m sorry … I didn’t mean to doubt you. Please, I truly am grateful,” she said. Ugh, here she was, being awkward around him again!

But she was surprised when he gave a brief laugh.

“No … you’re right. You sounded just like Aryll just then, is all,” he said. He ran one hand over the back of his head and then down to rub at the back of his neck, looking a bit sheepish. “I just … you were in danger, and … well, let me just tell you what happened.”

He went on to tell her what had transpired since she was knocked out by the pond. He had met her father by chance in the city. After making their introductions, the two struck up a conversation, only for the duke to discover her father had been waiting in vain for an appointment with Lord Ganon, his meeting time long since past. Her father said he had received an urgent summons to the city from Lord Ganon, and he had rushed to the meeting only to be left waiting, neither Ganon nor any agent of his ever arriving.

“I hope it was not too forward of me to tell your father I was acquainted with you,” he said. “Upon my mentioning you, your father confessed that you and Ganon had some kind of understanding. But I remembered that day in the park, and how you did not seem to welcome Ganon’s intentions. And with what I already know of Ganon from the past, well, I couldn’t help but be suspicious.”

Zelda remembered the clear animosity between the two men that day, and again wished to know more. But before she could say anything, the duke continued with his story.

“I told him that I knew Lord Ganon well and that he was not what he seemed, and I was concerned for your welfare. Aryll had told me about the letter you had sent her, saying you had gone to Lanayru for the next few days, and I realized your father didn’t know you had returned. He was alarmed to hear you were not with Urbosa as he’d imagined.

“I told him that I would go to Lanayru and check on you. I got on my horse as soon as I could and rode out of the city, and on the way there I passed the pond where I … where we met,” he said, flicking his eyes up to hers briefly before returning to look at his plate. “There I discovered your guide book left in the road, and when I got to the house, I encountered your maid, who was about to head out to search for you. I told her what I could and said I would go after you, and she should follow me in your carriage. She should be here soon, I should think.”

She was amazed. Ganon’s plan had been far more elaborate than she had imagined. But one thing remained a mystery.

“But how did you know where to find me?”

His jaw tightened and he grimaced in distaste before answering.

“As I’ve said, I have some history with Lord Ganon, and I know of his unscrupulous nature,” Link said. As much as she wanted to know, Zelda could tell he was still unwilling to elaborate on this history and chose to not press him on it. For now.

“Let me just say it was not the first plot like this he’s attempted and I made an unfortunately educated guess,” he said. “But I knew my fears were confirmed when I found this.”

He reached into his pocket, an odd look of discomfort crossing his face before he hid it away again, and pulled out a piece of paper and placed it on the table before her.

“You found my note!” she declared, relieved that the idea had worked and she hadn’t sacrificed her pencil for nothing. He gave her a delighted smile, and Zelda’s heart squeezed, a blush rising in her cheeks.

She looked away, down at her hands. To think he had done all of this for her. When she had been so awful to him, so rude. And still he did so much to come to her rescue! These were certainly not the actions of someone who disliked her. She had been so foolish, allowing her own embarrassment to overtake her, to assume she knew his thoughts and feelings. She felt a wave of shame at how she had treated him.

“Your Grace,” she began.

“Please, call me Link,” he interrupted her. “That title … is not really me.”

“Link, then,” although it seemed strange to be so familiar with him. But she couldn’t help but think it also felt very natural.

“I must apologize to you for my past behavior. I have been rude and unkind when you have been nothing but friendly and helpful,” she said. “And then you have done so much to help me today …”

“Please, no apology necessary,” he said earnestly. “It was my pleasure.”

She looked up, and met those blue eyes she’d thought of so much since that day at the pond. While this might not have been how she wanted to apologize to him, she was glad she had finally done it, and they could move on. She felt a surprising amount of relief, clearly not realizing how much it had been weighing on her.

“I … thank you,” she said, giving him a small smile. She bit her lip, hesitating before she continued. “I .. I know we have gotten off on the wrong foot, and well … if it’s alright with you, I’d like to try again.”

The smile he gave her was even more brilliant than the one before.

“I would like that, very much,” he said.

And Zelda couldn’t help but smile back.

Chapter Text

From the diary of Lady Zelda Bosphoramus:

I am unsure how to put today's events into words. Words so often evade me lately, and now more than ever. He saved me. Without a thought for his own life, he protected me from the ruthless Khoga and Lord Ganon. Though I've been cold to him all this time … taking my selfish and childish anger out on him at every turn ... Still, he was there for me. I won't ever forget that. I apologized for all that has transpired between us. And then … I will try to get to know him.

Once they had finished eating, Link told her he’d asked the innkeeper to open a room for her so she could rest and freshen up. She went up, thankful for a moment to herself. It felt wonderful to finally wash the sweat and dirt from her hands and face. After combing her hair and braiding it back into the simple hairstyle she wore every day, she returned to the inn’s common room to await the carriage that would take her back home.

Link was nowhere to be seen, so she imagined he’d also taken a room to rest from his breakneck ride to her rescue. The innkeeper, apologetic and grateful since being freed from the cellar where Lord Ganon had trapped him and his staff, brought her some tea and cakes while she waited. She sipped from her cup as she watched the staff scamper about the inn and stable yard to put it to rights before any guests arrived.

It wasn’t much longer before she saw a familiar carriage pull up and a frantic Paya tumble out the door. Zelda ran outside and flew into her friend’s arms, both of them laughing in relief, Paya vainly trying to swallow her happy tears.

“Oh, my lady, we were so worried for you when you didn’t return! I was just about to leave and search for you when his grace arrived at our door and let us know you were in terrible danger!” Paya said breathlessly. “I have been so frightened on this long journey, I am so grateful to see you are unharmed. I feel just terrible, if only I had been there —”

“Oh, no, Paya, I am very glad that I was out alone, despite everything!” Zelda interrupted. “I shudder to think what Ganon’s henchman might have done had you been with me! But fear not, I am well, thanks to Link — I mean, the duke.”

If Paya noticed Zelda’s familiar use of the duke’s name, she chose to not call attention to it. Zelda gratefully took her maid’s hand and led her into the inn.

“Come, let’s get you some tea and a snack before we head for home!”

After getting Paya settled, Zelda sat next to her and filled her in on all that had transpired since she’d left the house that morning. Paya listened with an open mouth, tea forgotten and cooling in her hand, as Zelda related her capture, the journey, and her escape. 

“It’s like something out of a novel!” Paya exclaimed. “To think Lord Ganon could be so perfidious … your lord father will be distraught.”

Zelda sighed at that, nodding in agreement. While it may have been known that Ganon was unscrupulous, she doubted anyone would have guessed he would stoop this low. And she knew her father would never forgive himself for letting his desire to get her married as soon as possible lead him to invite Ganon into their home and agree to his proposal. But Zelda found she could not really blame her father for what happened — Ganon’s obsession with the sword was what led him to her father in the first place.

Soon Link rejoined them in the common room, and they gathered what little they had brought with them and headed for the carriage. The duke handed Zelda into the carriage first, wincing a bit as he stretched his arm up to guide her into the cab. He must have strained a muscle during the scuffle with Khoga, she thought. But he made no mention of it, and so neither did she. After seeing Paya into the carriage after her, he joined them, sitting across from the two women and closest to the driver. He knocked on the roof to signal their readiness, and the carriage turned and rolled out of the yard.

“Oh, but what of your horse, your — Link?” Zelda asked him. This time, Paya did not miss her use of the duke’s name, and Zelda carefully avoided meeting her maid’s eyes.

“She galloped hard to bring me to you, so I thought it best to leave her to rest and recover at the stable while I escort you back to Lanayru,” he said. “I will send someone to collect her in a couple of days.”

Zelda also thought he likely was very tired after his journey and the altercation with Ganon and Khoga and likely relished the idea of a long rest in the carriage. She had thought he would choose to stay at the inn with his horse, but had to admit she was glad for his company. While she felt safe in her carriage with Paya, she did not know where Ganon and his henchman had fled to and was thankful for the added protection Link offered.

The time passed slowly, the three passengers spending it in small talk until eventually falling silent. Unlike the carriage she’d arrived in, the one she rode in now had windows that opened up all the way, allowing breezes freshened by the fields and meadows they drove past to fill the interior with the damp smells of earth and greenery. The warmth of the late summer afternoon and the gentle jostling of the carriage over the road lulled them all into repose, and after the eventful day she’d had, Zelda soon dozed off, leaning her head against her maid’s shoulder. By the time they arrived at Lanayru, it was well into the evening, the sky washed with deep purples and blues pricked with the shine of the early stars.

The carriage pulled up in front of the house, which was ablaze with lamp and candle light in anticipation of their arrival. As soon as the clop of the horses’s hooves and the crunch of the carriage wheels on the gravel drive reached the ears of those in the house, they streamed into the yard to welcome the travelers. Zelda descended from the carriage to the thankful arms of Impa and her father, the rest of the household staff crowding behind them.

Her father pulled her aside from the crowd, taking her in his arms for a tight hug before pushing her back to arms length, his eyes scanning her face and body in the lantern light to check for injury. Satisfied that she seemed well, he pulled her back to him. For all that they had butted heads in the past few years, frequently standing at odds over her behavior and habits, Zelda found an enormous relief in her father’s embrace, a sense of safety and security washing over her just as it would when she was a child.

Her father held her a moment, clearly overcome with emotion, before he was able to speak.

“Zelda, I am so very sorry. Never would I have guessed Lord Ganon would do such a thing! Such a well respected gentleman, he seemed to be the perfect match for you! If I had known —” he cut himself off. “I am so just so thankful that you are safe.”

Zelda was briefly tempted to argue with her father regarding Ganon’s apparent virtues and suitability, but chose to give it up. Her father was repentant, and she saw no benefit to drawing the matter out.

“Father, how could you have known? Lord Ganon hid his intentions very well. If it weren’t for the duke … well, I am so thankful that you encountered him in the city!”

Zelda led her father back toward the carriage to welcome Link to their home. Paya had already emerged and was telling the other servants of all that had transpired since she’d left early that afternoon. Link hesitantly stepped out from the carriage, and carefully made his way down the steps. He took a few steps in their direction before stopping, swaying a moment, and dropping to the ground.

“Link!” Zelda gasped. Her father gave an alarmed shout and both raced to the duke’s side.

Zelda knelt beside him and could see, even in the dim light of the lanterns, that his face was pale and sweating. She set herself to unbuttoning his dark coat only to discover a damp stickiness on the outside. She raised her fingers to find dark stains on their tips — blood. She hurried to finish unbuttoning his coat, opening it up to find a spreading patch of red staining the entire left side of his white shirt. She could tell he’d made an attempt to bandage it, but it clearly hadn’t been enough.

“Call for a doctor!” she cried, glancing up at the crowd of servants who had rushed to offer their assistance. One of the grooms nodded quickly and raced off to the stables to quickly saddle a horse and ride to the village. “Help me take him inside. Impa, please gather clean cloths; Paya, boil some water.”

Zelda managed to control her panic by taking charge of the situation. She had been a witness to plenty of minor injuries and only hoped that experience would be enough to help Link until the doctor arrived. As the ladies hurried to gather what she’d asked for, Zelda directed the stronger members of the staff to take Link into the house and lay him on the sofa in the sitting room. Together they took off his boots and gently pulled off his ruined shirt, and then Zelda set herself to peeling off the blood soaked bandage, dropping it into a basin one of the maids held out for her. Underneath the bandage she found a deep stab wound, about two inches long, just under his ribs.

Blood continued to ooze from the wound and she quickly covered it with a clean bandage. Impa and Paya returned with the cloths and water, and Zelda carefully began to clean the blood from around the wound. As she gently sponged the mess from his body, she could see that he was in very good physical condition, his muscles well defined. She was surprised to see he was covered in scars, some very old and faded, and some that looked fairly new. A soldier’s life must be very dangerous, she thought, but hoped it was a sign that he had survived such injuries before and would likely do so again.

She finished cleaning up the blood just as the doctor arrived. Thankfully the bleeding had mostly stopped by that time. The doctor stitched up the wound and rebandaged it, then spoke with Zelda and her father.

“It is a deep wound, but I don’t think it’s as bad as it appears. He’s lucky, the knife missed any major organs or arteries. Just be sure to keep the injury clean and change the bandages as needed. He will need rest and several good meals to recover from the loss of blood,” the doctor said as they escorted him to the door. “But he should not ride or do any other strenuous activity for at least a week.”

Zelda looked at her father in surprise. A knife wound! Had he been injured in the fight in the stable yard? Link certainly had not let on that he’d been hurt at all. And a whole week for recovery … While she had hoped to have some time to get to know Link better, this was not quite what she had in mind. After the doctor left, her father took a few of the servants with him to prepare a guest room for the duke to convalesce, while Zelda helped the maids clean up the mess of bloody rags and water. Then she sent what staff had stayed behind with her off to bed. It was very late, and Zelda was absolutely exhausted, but it wasn’t fair to make them stay up with her when they had already worked hard all day.

Zelda had a few more tasks ahead of her before she could collapse into her bed. She wanted to be there when Link finally awoke, and she needed to let Aryll and Urbosa know what had transpired. She sat at the writing desk in the sitting room and quickly wrote two letters, one letting Aryll know her brother would be staying with her at Lanayru for a time, and one to Urbosa saying that she would not be returning to Castle Town for another week or two. She kept the details sparse, uncertain how much she should divulge in a letter. They would get the entire story soon enough and it seemed pointless to make them worry. She folded and sealed the letters and as she set them on the tray for the morning post, she heard Link begin to stir, groaning a bit as he returned to consciousness. She flew to his side, kneeling beside him. He opened his eyes and looked about in confusion, before noticing her by his bedside.

“You were injured, and you fell unconscious not too long after we arrived at Lanayru,” she explained before he could ask. “The doctor said you will need a week of rest before you can return to the city.”

He grimaced, and pressed a hand to his side, just over the wound, and looked up at the ceiling.

“Khoga,” he said. “He managed to get me with his knife before I was able to disarm him …”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” she asked.

Link sighed.

“You had already been through enough today, I didn’t want to add to it,” he said. “And I thought I’d had it bandaged well enough.”

“Well, you hadn’t!” she admonished. “That was a foolish thing to do, you could have died!”

He turned again to look at her, one eyebrow quirked and a small smile curving his lips.

“And miss my chance to spend a week with you?” he asked. She blushed and looked away, her heart giving that funny thump in her chest again. What an odd thing to say, at a time like this!

“Well, since you’re clearly feeling better, let’s get you upstairs,” she said tartly.

Link grinned at her, then tried to sit up, sucking in a sharp breath with the motion. She gave him a moment to recover, then helped him to stand, wrapping the arm on his uninjured side around her shoulders. He leaned on her as she guided him up the stairs and to the room that had been made up for him. He still was not wearing a shirt, and now that the immediate danger had passed, she was acutely aware of his semi-dressed state and how she was pressed up rather close to him. Zelda pulled her thoughts away from that direction and forced her mind to focus instead on guiding him carefully up the stairs and down the hall. By the time they made it to the door he was pale again and out of breath.

Zelda helped him into the bed, which had already been turned down and ready for him. She got him settled then darted about, gathering anything she thought he might need during the night. She made sure he had water to drink, and pulled out some handkerchiefs, and even found a book in case he woke before anyone else, and set it all on the small table near the bed. Before she left, she checked his bandage once more, glad to see no tell-tale stain of red indicating his wound had reopened. Link closed his eyes as soon as he lay back on the pillows. His color had returned somewhat but he clearly was exhausted after the events of the day.

As she pulled the blankets up around his shoulders, Link reached up and took her hand. He opened his eyes and gazed at their joined hands for a moment before looking up to her.

“Thank you,” he said, his blue eyes looking earnestly into her own. She could only smile and nod, unable to speak past the lump that had formed in her throat. She squeezed his hand gently, blew out the candle on the dresser, and left him to his rest.

Zelda didn’t wake the next day until late in the morning. She was still tired but felt largely recovered after her ordeal the day before, sleeping in her own bed and safe at home going a large way toward her recovery. She peeked into Link’s room to find he was still asleep, and so she made her way downstairs to see what might be left from breakfast. She ate her fill of the remaining eggs and bacon, and slathered a piece of toast with plenty of butter and jam.

Feeling much revived from her breakfast, she went down to the kitchens to prepare a tray for Link. After he had done so much for her, she was determined to nurse him back to health during his stay at Lanayru. She asked the kitchen for a fresh pot of tea, and a tray with standard sickroom fare: a covered bowl of plain porridge and a dish of mashed roasted apple. She was reluctant to overwhelm him with too many rich foods right away. Before bed she had spent some time reading over a guidebook to the successful treatment of the sick and wounded that she had found in the library. It had provided her a list of bland, soft and nutritious foods that were ideal for those confined to bed rest, and she had planned out a full menu for the week.

She knocked before entering, and opened the door on Link’s invitation. She found him sitting up in bed, propped up on several pillows, and dressed in one of her father’s nightshirts. His hair was loose around his shoulders and still a bit mussed from sleep, lending him a boyish quality that Zelda thought made him even more handsome than when he was dressed and polished in one of his expensive suits. She could feel a blush starting on her cheeks, her eyes inexorably drawn to the sight of his collar bone showing through the loose neckline on the oversized nightshirt. Somehow this was worse than when he had been wearing no shirt at all! Zelda once again forced her mind away from these thoughts and entered the room.

“Good morning!” she said cheerfully, setting the tray down on the bed next to him. He looked at the contents skeptically, lifting the lid on the bowl of porridge before grimacing and replacing it. He clearly had been hoping for a more substantial meal.

“The doctor said we must give you plenty of healthy meals in order to build up your strength,” Zelda said. “But of course we don’t want to overwhelm your system with anything too rich or hearty.”

“Of course not,” Link said dejectedly.

“So,” she said, suddenly feeling a bit shy. She busied herself with pouring a cup of tea for them both and spent some time fussing with the milk and sugar before continuing. “I thought, perhaps, since you’ll be stuck in bed for at least today … that I could keep you company, if you don’t mind.”

Zelda was uncertain why she felt so nervous. This was the first relatively normal interaction she had had with Link, that wasn’t overshadowed by an octorock, or a ball, or a kidnapping. She half expected the bored dismissal she received from so many others after conversing with them, her interests not generally popular amongst other young ladies, gentleman often finding someone else to talk to before too long. She truly did want to get to know Link better, but now faced with the prospect of an entire week’s opportunity to do so, she found herself unsure of how to proceed. She stared into her teacup a moment longer before raising her eyes to meet his.

She was relieved to see him smiling at her.

“I would like that very much,” he said.

She was beginning to really like his smile, she thought, and was glad of his easy acceptance of her company. She had mentally prepared some topics of discussion while she had been eating her own breakfast, wanting to avoid the awkward silences that so frequently occurred when she tried to converse with anyone else. A list of normal topics, that regular people spoke about. She set his breakfast tray on his lap so that he could eat while they talked, and launched into the first item on her list before she could have any second thoughts.

“So Lady Aryll was telling me at the ball that you traveled all over Hyrule with your father,” she began. He nodded before finishing with the mouthful of porridge he had taken and continuing with the story. She was relieved that she had chosen a good topic to begin with! He told her all about his life as the son of a soldier, and how it was difficult being parted from his sister so that she may have the proper education for a young lady while he could follow in his father’s footsteps and learn the trade of a warrior.

“But Aryll was brought to live with us for a time when our father was posted for several years in Zora’s domain,” Link told her.

“Ah, so that is how you and Mipha know each other,” she commented.

He agreed and described many happy years living in Zora’s Domain, spending time with Mipha and other young Zorans exploring the hilly countryside, learning to swim in its many lakes and pools, chasing after Aryll and Sidon to keep the mischievous youngsters out of trouble. Aryll and Sidon were the same age and formed a close bond as quickly as Link and Mipha did.

She felt a brief rush of sadness hearing his stories of his childhood in Zora’s Domain. He had grown up having adventures, surrounded by friends. In contrast, for most of her life she had stayed in close proximity to Lanayru, not going too far beyond trips to the nearby village and occasionally to Castle Town. She had never had too many friends, her father deeming it unfitting for her to mix with the village children. And as much as she loved Paya, he girl had never been the adventurous sort. Zelda had visited her godmother in Gerudo a few times, but had never felt bold enough to explore the area on her own, settling instead for a few chaperoned visits to local ruins and historic sites. She envied the freedom Link had as a child of common rank, free to do as he pleased.

“I often joined the other Zoran children in their weapons classes,” Link said. “The Zorans favor spears and everyone there knows how to wield one with some proficiency. Mipha was an absolute terror with hers.”

Zelda smiled, imagining her gentle friend wielding a spear. Though Mipha was friendly and caring, there had always been an edge of fierceness to her that didn’t make it too difficult to see her as a warrior.

“By the time I was 10 years old I was Mipha’s equal in spearfighting, and it wasn’t long before I showed proficiency in other weapons. Once my father discovered my abilities, he sent Aryll back to Necluda and my time was devoted solely to training as a soldier,” Link said, a tinge of bitterness in his voice.

“Oh …” she started, feeling a bit guilty for bringing up a potentially difficult topic. “That must have been difficult, you were quite young.”

He shrugged, a slight twitch of one shoulder, as if to dismiss her concerns.

“A trade is a trade, I suppose. It was that or be apprenticed somewhere. My father, my grandfather, his father before him … all of them were soldiers of some kind. I may have been a bit young but it was inevitable I would enter the military, I suppose. I just had a head start.”

She regretted her previous envy at his supposed freedom. For all of the restrictions placed on her as a child of a noble family, she had been allowed to be a child, not expected to behave in a more adult manner until at least age 13 when she was sent off to finishing school. She certainly never had to worry about finding a trade or being apprenticed.

She looked up at the window, noting with surprise that it was already well into the afternoon. It would be dinner time soon. Their conversation had made the hours fly by. Zelda suddenly felt her uncertainty return. Had she overstayed her welcome? Perhaps it would be best if she took her leave for now, and allow him to rest. And maybe rethink her list of conversation topics; were they were too personal? Did she seem nosy, or intrusive? Her curiosity had gotten the better of her too many times in the past, and she did not want to ruin their friendship before it even got started.

“I … I should let you rest,” she told him, hesitating before chancing a glance at his face. He did look tired.

A brief look of alarm flashed over his face at her words.

“Oh, no, it’s —” he began, lifting a hand as if to stop her.

Unfailingly polite, she thought. He seemed an expert at hiding his feelings behind manners and gentility. But still … she had read him wrong before, and perhaps she was letting her own insecurities lead her down the wrong path yet again. The thought of his earlier smiles led her to be bold.

“I’ll return after dinner, to check your bandages and make sure you have what you need for the night,” she said. “I’ll send Paya in later to see if you need anything.”

She was gratified to see he looked relieved at her promise to return. She gave him a cautious smile before leaving, closing the door behind her.

The next day Zelda received a reply from both Aryll and Urbosa in the morning post. Aryll was frantic over what had happened and grateful that her brother was in her words, “in such good hands.” Aryll insisted she would be fine on her own in the city under the capable and caring watch of the household staff, and that she would have plenty of approved visitors until Link was able to return. She had included a note for her brother, which Zelda set aside to bring him with his breakfast.

Next she turned to Urbosa’s letter, her godmother’s bold handwriting expressing relief at Zelda’s safety, and a desire to know more about this duke and her curiosity at Zelda never mentioning him previously. Perhaps if Zelda had shared any of her concerns with her godmother, a lot of the events of the past couple of days could have been avoided. But she had been so certain she could solve it all on her own. Urbosa also promised to seek retribution against Ganon, having already sent letters to her government connections in Gerudo Town.

After breakfast she went back upstairs to check on Link, and to bring him his letter. She gave a brief knock before opening the door and poking her head in. She gasped at the scene before her, folding her arms and looking at him accusingly.

“That is not what I asked the kitchen to send up for your breakfast,” she said sternly.

He looked at her guiltily, already halfway through a plate piled high with eggs, bacon and fried potatoes, a stack of heavily buttered toast, and a pot of coffee.

“I … may have asked Paya if she would take pity on me and bring me more substantial fare,” he said. “I appreciate your thoughtfulness in the menu you chose but, truly, I’m feeling much better.”

She hummed thoughtfully, his penintant look difficult to resist. She couldn’t really blame Paya, the girl’s kind heart frequently got the better of her. And she was certainly no match for Link’s considerable charm.

“You did say the doctor said my recovery would rely on healthy meals,” he continued hopefully.

“Well, I suppose I’ll just have to keep an eye on you to be sure,” she said.

He brightened at that, and she came into the room and resumed the chair she’d sat in the day before. He told her he’d also asked for paper yesterday and wrote a letter to his staff in Castle Town asking them to send him some clothes and other items, and that he hoped they’d arrive the next day. She gave him the letter from Aryll.

He opened it and almost immediately winced at what he read. Then he smiled again before folding the letter up and setting it aside.

“Well, Aryll had a few things to say about my riding off,” he said. “I suspect I’ll get an earful once I return to Castle Town.”

Zelda didn’t know Aryll well, but from their short time together and what she’d heard about the girl from others, she could tell Aryll was a force to be reckoned with. The reply she’d received that morning from Aryll showed that the girl held no animosity toward Zelda, and she was looking forward to resuming their friendship once they all were back in Castle Town.

She and Link spent the rest of the day in pleasant conversation, this time Zelda filling him in on her own childhood. The loss of her mother at a young age, her visits from Robbie and Purah, her trips to Gerudo to see Urbosa, and some of her own escapades with Mipha when they were at school together. Link too had lost his mother at about the same age as she, and they both talked of how their lives had changed afterward.

Talk of life after her mother’s passing soon led to Zelda telling him about all of the various research projects she had undertaken. Though he and Aryll had discovered many Sheikah artifacts as they toured around their estate, neither of them knew very much about ancient Sheikah history. At that Zelda darted to her room and dug out her journals and the Sheikah slate from where she had them hidden under her bed. She was disappointed with herself for a moment; she had been so upset at her father’s confiscating her research materials, only to completely leave them behind when she went to Castle Town.

She began to flip through the pages of her journals before she even left her room, marking the more interesting discoveries she had made as well as her notes on their historical context. Link had described some of the things he had found on the grounds at Farore, and she was excited to tell him more about them. She almost couldn’t believe that he was the same person that only a few weeks ago had made her feel so anxious and upset. Now their conversation flowed so easily. He asked such wonderful questions, questions that showed that he not only listened to what she said, but was eager to know more.

It was just so … comfortable. Outside of her cousins, Zelda had never found anyone as quick-witted and curious about the topics she loved as Link was. Even her most beloved friends and family mostly indulged her, happy to listen to her describe her latest discovery, but not really interested in the discovery itself. But Link actually seemed to care, and Zelda found that she was excited to share her discoveries with him.

He glanced through most of the journals, making her blush when he asked if he might keep a few to look through later. None of them contained any secrets or private details, but that did not make them any less personal, and his desire to look through them on his own felt oddly intimate.

“Were you successful in your elixir attempts? I should hope so after going to so much trouble for those octorock parts,” he said with a smile.

She smiled back. Such a comment would have made her bristle previously. She had spent so much time worrying that he would use the events at the pond as a means to humiliate her, make her the laughing stock of society. But now she knew those beliefs had only been a product of her own insecurities, and that he wouldn’t dream of doing anything so cruel. Not to her, not to anyone.

(“I know it’s just my money and my title that have made me so accepted in noble society,” he confessed to her. “The wealthy and noble can be so fickle, and I am determined to not give them any reason to think less of me. Not so much for myself, but for Aryll. But I won’t step on anyone else to do that.” She wondered that she could have ever thought he would set her up as an object of mockery. Sadly, however, she knew her fears had not been unfounded; they both knew that the cutthroat nature of social supremacy often was at the expense of others.)

Now she was able to look back on that day at the pond and smile. It had really been quite silly, a comedy of errors from start to finish. And she had to admit she was oddly grateful to the octorock for allowing her to meet Link.

“I’m afraid I never got the chance,” she told him regretfully. “My father was quite incensed at the mess I’d made of myself that day, as well as the danger, and he … thought it best if I put my research aside for the time.” Zelda wasn’t lying to him, not really, but she also didn’t want to go into much detail. As comfortable as she felt with him, she certainly wasn’t going to confess her marriage woes and all it entailed.

As they spoke Link had been idly turning the Sheikah slate about in his hands, sometimes holding it closer to his eyes to get a better look, and poking and prodding various raised and indented portions of the design. He lightly ran his fingers along the ridged lines that formed the shape of the Sheikah eye on the back, examined the sides, and tapped the blank glass in various rhythms. She had been about to ask what he was looking for, when suddenly the slate flared to life, an image of the Sheikah eye lighting up the glass in blue.

“Oh!” they cried at the same time. Zelda leapt from her chair and sat next to him on the bed, leaning in to get a closer look. She gently pulled it from his hands, but stayed where she was so they could both see the screen. The image of the eye faded to black, then the screen shifted to display several squares, mostly blank. She touched the screen, experimentally, and started as the screen switched to a swath of dark blue covered with lighter blue lines.

“That looks like a map,” Link said. “Just without any of the details. But see, the edges are the same as you’d see on any map of Hyrule.”

“I wonder why there are no details, or how one could add details,” she said. “I’m curious if there’s a connection to the shrines. I have never been so fortunate to see one in real life, but I have seen many drawings and know they feature the same Sheikah eye symbol as the slate.”

“There’s a shrine at Farore,” he said. “Maybe you could come visit some time, bring the slate and test it out. I’m sure … I’m sure Aryll would love to have you.”

“Oh, yes, that would be wonderful,” she said, glancing at him briefly, but too engrossed in the slate to notice his hesitation or see the pleased look he gave at her acquiescence. She continued tapping the at screen, attempting to discover more features. A tap to another square brought up a new screen, a grid featuring several small pictures of flowers, animals, monsters, weapons and more. There were many pictures, some of flowers and creatures she’d never seen outside of a book, but it seemed as though about half of the entries were blank.

“Link, look at this,” Zelda breathed, leaning in close and showing him what she’d discovered. “Look at these … Are they drawings? Paintings? They’re so realistic!”

Tapping on one of the pictures brought up yet another screen, this time with a larger version of the picture and a short description. She dragged her finger down the text only to discover that she could use her finger to push each entry aside, almost like flipping the page of a book, and move on to the next entry. She couldn’t believe the sheer amount of information the slate seemed to contain.

“All of this information! Even plants and animals not native to this part of Hyrule! It’s like having several guidebooks all in one! Electric safflina, great horned rhinoceros, stealthfin trout … this is truly marvelous!” She couldn’t keep the excitement from her voice as she swept through picture after picture. 

She had been holding the slate off to the side so that they both could look at the screen, and she paused to take a look at Link to see what he thought of the discovery. But instead of the screen, she turned to see him gazing at her instead, a soft look in his eyes. Suddenly she was acutely aware of how close she was to him, her shoulder leaning on his, their heads almost touching as they bent over the screen of the slate. She’d gotten so carried away in her excitement over the slate that she’d forgotten herself and behaved in an unseemly, forward manner.

She gasped, scooting off the bed and onto her feet, only to fumble the slate in the process and drop it to the floor. Flustered, she hastily bent down and picked it up, almost dropping it again before she could stand up. She could feel her face burning.  Oh, she’d made a complete fool of herself! He must think her completely devoid of shame, behaving like one of those flirtatious misses who had no reservations draping themselves over the targets of their affections.

“I … I am so sorry, please forgive me, I did not mean to take such liberties,” she said, nervously clutching the slate before her.

She thought of the other times she had gotten carried away, holding forth on a topic she was interested in, only to have people walk away mid sentence, or quickly change the subject, or just ignore her all together. She had learned to suppress that side of herself while around others, but she had felt so comfortable around Link that she had forgotten to control her enthusiasm. She had practically held him hostage, touching him and babbling on about plants and fish.

“I should …” she began, wanting to leave to give herself a chance to calm down. Hopefully she could walk sedately out of the room instead of running like she wanted to. But before she could take a step, he shot his hand out and grasped her wrist.

“No! No, please, don’t go. I don’t mind at all, truly,” he said, gently tugging on her arm. “Please stay.”

Zelda hesitated, at first sure he was just humoring her, just being polite. But she reminded herself that she wasn’t going to make assumptions, not going to let her anxiety get the best of her. She looked in his eyes and let his open and honest expression calm her nerves. Taking a deep breath, she returned to her chair and they spent the rest of the time before dinner looking through the pictures on the slate, and discussing all of the ways one could go about filling in the missing entries.

That night at dinner, her father asked how their patient was faring.

“You’ve certainly kept a close eye on him,” he said with a gleam in his eye. She gave him a level look, unwilling to give him any more fodder for the marriage fantasies she was sure he was concocting. Lord Rhoam had been entirely too smug about the amount of time she had been spending with Link.

“Father, please,” she said. “I owe him a large debt of gratitude and I am merely ensuring he has a pleasant recovery.”

“Oh, of course,” her father replied, struggling to hide his smile. She huffed and went back to her dinner. She and Link were friends and that was all. Reading anything more into their relationship was just asking for disappointment later. Wasn't it?

The next day, the doctor returned to inspect Link’s wound, and declared that he was healing splendidly and was well enough to leave his bed and resume some activity. However he still recommended a few more days of rest before attempting riding or more strenuous activity. Link’s things had arrived from Castle Town, and he told her that he’d then sent his man off to Gerudo Valley Stable to pick up his horse and bring it to Lanayru, which should take a few days. By the time his horse arrived, Link should be healed enough to tolerate the ride back to Castle Town. Zelda felt a flash of sadness at that, realizing that their time together would soon end.

With the doctor’s approval, Link was able to dress in his own clothes and finally leave the house for a time. They both were eager to leave the confines of the indoors and enjoy the fresh air. They spent the day in the gardens, the late summer flowers in bloom, the buzz of courser bees filling the air as they flit from bloom to bloom.

“I expected to continue as a captain and lead the life of a soldier, perhaps buying my way to a higher rank at some point. I certainly never expected to wake up a duke one morning,” Link told her. The younger son of a younger son, his father never considered their connection to the Dukes of Necluda to be worthy of any kind of consideration. However, the vagaries of fate conspired ultimately leaving Link the sole and unwitting heir.

“Mipha has been a great source of comfort since that day, helping me to bridge the gap between commoner and noble,” he said. “The importance of dress, the expectations of society, my obligations to the people in my care … having someone who has known me in both aspects of my life has made the transition progress much more smoothly.”

“Yes, Mipha always has such wonderful insight in such matters,” Zelda said. “She has always been such a wonderful companion to me in social situations. She understands my discomfort in society and always helps me feel more comfortable.”

“Yes … I still don’t quite feel like I belong in this role, yet I am determined to succeed on behalf of those who rely on me and the estate for their livelihoods,” Link said. “It has felt like a great weight, to now be responsible for so many. Despite Mipha’s assistance, I still am fearful of making a mistake or saying the wrong thing, so I try to avoid most social gatherings.

“It doesn’t help that anyone with a daughter of marriageable age set their sights on me the moment I received the title,” he continued, smiling ruefully. “Staying as far out of the public eye as I can means I cut the number of introductions down drastically. Although with Aryll in the family, that takes some of the pressure off of me to marry, though I must always keep my eye on the gentlemen with lofty aspirations.”

Zelda laughed. “Yes, the responsibility of making the right match and providing heirs is a heavy one,” she said. “It is one we share. Since I have no siblings, the future of Lanayru rests on me alone. The staff, the tenants … I must think of them before I think of my own happiness.”

The discussion of marriage seemed to bring a tension into their conversation, and Zelda wondered if perhaps she had been too revealing, despite her attempts to be as vague about her situation as she could. She hoped he didn’t think she was trying to imply anything more than commiseration with her comment. She glanced his way, only to see him frowning a bit, as if in thought.

He stopped, and took her hand, clearly wanting to tell her something. Zelda suddenly felt nervous, her heart beginning to thump in her chest as his hand surrounded hers. Her imagination began to run wild through a parade of proposals, declarations and rejection scenarios. She held her breath and waited for him to gather his courage enough to say what was on his mind.

“I think … I hope,” he said, finally looking up to meet her eyes. “That you can have both. Happiness, and marriage. Soon … ah, or someday.”

He continued to look at her for another moment as if trying to convey a message with his eyes. She looked back, uncertain what to say or do. What did he mean by that? Why the hesitation before such a vague statement? She tried to come up with a response but thankfully, a distant peal of thunder caught his attention and he looked away from her. The day had begun bright and sunny but as they had walked, clouds had come to cover the sun, heavy with the threat of a summer thunderstorm. She was grateful for the distraction provided by the thunder, interrupting the intensity of his blue eyes on hers.

He looked at her again, a little nervously,she thought, before realizing he was still holding her hand. He released it before stepping back and turning to head back toward the house.

“It seems rain is on its way, perhaps we should return indoors,” he said. The sky had darkened further as the thunderstorm moved its way across the sky, but even in the dim light that filtered through the clouds, she would have sworn he was blushing.

“Um … yes, let's go back inside,” she said, and followed him back to the house.

They went in, had tea in the Gallery, then joined her father in the dining room for dinner. By the time she got into bed, Zelda had forgotten all about Link’s strange behavior in the garden.

Chapter Text

The days flew by, and before Zelda knew it, Link’s horse had arrived and he returned to Castle Town. Zelda and her father watched him go, Link pausing for a moment to raise his hand in one last farewell before he rode down the road and out of sight.

The house seemed so empty without him, Zelda thought, as she ate a quiet dinner with her father. If he noticed how often she looked to where Link had sat at the table, he chose not to mention it. In the week of his stay, Link had begun to feel almost a part of their family, and she was surprised at how quickly she had begun to miss him.

After such a rocky beginning, their friendship had been such an easy thing, as if they’d already known each other for years and years. Conversation flowed naturally, and since he’d recovered from his injury so quickly, they had enjoyed the rest of the week walking the grounds about Lanayru, discussing all manner of topics. Zelda felt she could tell him anything, his genuine interest in what she had to say encouraging her to share hopes, dreams and wishes she had never told anyone else. He in turn seemed to find the same easiness with her, and they never lacked for conversation.

Zelda learned Link had a great love for food once he was able to join her and her father for dinner. Her father took great pride in his table and Link’s enthusiasm and compliments for the meal easily won her his heart. The two men had a merry time talking about horses, travel stories and estate management. Zelda’s face flamed when her father began shamelessly asking about Link’s plans for the future. Would he expand the estate? Did he look to find a wife? Did he hope to soon begin a family? All of which left Link blushing and stumbling over his words. 

“Father!” Zelda hissed at him, embarrassed that he would be so forward.

Lord Rhoam attempted to look innocent.

“I am simply making conversation, Zelda, I mean no harm!”

Rhoam tried to hide his smile at the duke’s flustered responses, and he did not miss the shy glances the young man threw at Zelda each time he gave a vague answer to Rhoam’s questions. He could tell the boy was besotted with his daughter, but he was determined to let things develop between them on their own. After his meddling in her affairs had led to Zelda being kidnapped and almost married against her will, Rhoam had vowed to not interfere any further. But he just couldn’t resist a little poking!

After Link had left, Zelda found herself eager to return to Castle Town for the last few weeks of the social season. Just as she had opened the season, Mipha would bring it to an end with one final ball, the last grand event before everyone returned to their estates for the fall and winter.

Once again she and Paya arrived at the front of Urbosa’s town home, her godmother sweeping her into a crushing embrace as soon as she stepped from the carriage.

“Oh my little bird, to think of all that has happened since you left me! You were meant to be relaxing from the rigours of the season, not getting kidnapped! If only I had known your father had made this arrangement with Ganon! Why did you never tell me?”

“Truly I was hoping to forget!” Zelda said. “It was why I chose to spend the season in Castle Town, despite my general distaste for society. I was so hoping to find an alternative and escape this scheme my father had concocted.”

Urbosa sighed.

“Well, hopefully my letters have made their way to Gerudo by now and some action is being taken against Ganon. He may be rich and powerful but he will not be allowed to get away with such behavior!”

They moved inside and went to the sitting room, where her godmother had set up tea and other snacks so the two young ladies could refresh themselves after their journey.

“So, Zelda, from what Paya tells me, it sounds like you have found a true champion for your heart after all,” Urbosa said, giving her goddaughter a sly smile. “I look forward to meeting your duke!”

Zelda turned to glare at her maid, who blushed and tried to hide behind the basket she carried. “I’m sorry, my lady!” she squeaked. “She wrote to me directly and swore me to secrecy!”

“Paya misled you,” Zelda said loftily. “He was injured when he came to my aid; it was the least we could do to nurse him back to health in thanks for all that he did. We are simply friends.”

Urbosa shot her a sidelong glance at that.

“Little bird, dukes do not ride from Castle Town to Gerudo Canyon to rescue maidens simply out of the kindness of their hearts!”

Zelda didn’t have anything to say to that. Could her godmother be right? Was there more to his actions than simple kindness? But she had let her assumptions get the best of her before, and she was unwilling to do that now. However, she couldn’t repress the hope that began to bloom in her heart at the thought.

The last few weeks of Zelda’s stay in Castle Town passed in a flurry of activity. Despite their best efforts to keep it quiet, the story of Zelda’s kidnapping and her exciting rescue had spread through the city, and she had a number of visitors come by to hear the tale from her directly. Each time she and Paya would go out, they would be swarmed with well-wishers and the curious. It was the most attention Zelda had ever received in her life, and she found it exhausting.

Zelda didn’t waste any time resuming her friendship with Aryll once she’d returned to the city, and the two women resumed their friendship, enjoying walks in the park, shopping and tea at the local cafes. And if Link joined them for many of these adventures, then that was a bonus.

What Zelda hadn’t been prepared for was the surge of gossip and innuendo that followed her whenever she was out and about the town. As if it wasn’t enough that everyone was still talking about her misadventure with Ganon, now everyone wanted to know just what her relationship was with Link. Were they or weren’t they? Was Hyrule’s most eligible bachelor spoken for? She soon found herself the recipient of several glares from jealous young ladies. She had to admit, she had the same question. Were they or weren’t they?

But Zelda did her best to ignore the rumors, knowing the gossip and the whispers and the glares would find a new target soon enough. She was determined to enjoy her last weeks in the city. For before too long, the last official week of the season rolled around, and it was time for Mipha’s final ball.

Zelda was eager to wear the new gown Urbosa had given her for the occasion. Made of a deep violet blue silk with puffed and ruffled sleeves, the dress was trimmed about the neckline with delicate white lace and featured an embroidered band with alternating triangles in gold thread around the high waistline. The hem was trimmed with a wide band in light blue, embroidered with a pattern of interlocking crescent moons surrounding discs stitched in gold thread. Zelda wore the cooling sapphire circlet and earrings again, the sultry late summer air and the packed ballroom making them a necessity.

For once she found herself looking forward to a ball. She felt lighter and freer than she had all summer and she was eagerly anticipating spending the evening with Mipha and Aryll and seeing Daruk, Yunobo and Revali one last time. And Link. She rushed through dressing, Paya scrambling to put the finishing touches on her hair in the face of Zelda’s excitement. She was in the hall almost half an hour before Urbosa came down, almost tapping her feet in impatience to leave.

The ball began much as the last one had: Zelda and Urbosa arrived early, Zelda helped Mipha put on the finishing touches, Urbosa claimed her spot in the gaming room, and Zelda helped greet the early guests. She began to fret when she couldn’t spot a familiar head of blond hair as guest after guest filled the ballroom, but allowed herself to be distracted by a few rounds of dancing. Much like the last ball, the heat began to feel oppressive, so she grabbed a lemonade and crossed the crowded ballroom to the veranda to catch some air. And just as she suspected, she discovered Revali leaning against the balustrade. He looked more sour than usual.

“Oh Revali, you should just ask her to dance!”

“Ask who?”

Zelda rolled her eyes.

“Mipha, of course.”

“Mipha?! What makes you think she would care to dance with such as I?” he asked.

He was being purposefully obtuse. Normally she loved grousing with him on the veranda as a ball dragged its way to its conclusion, but today she found she was entirely worn out by such behavior. Her niggling doubts and worries still hovered at the back of her mind, but for once she was entirely too happy tonight to put up with Revali’s bad attitude. She was determined that he find happiness as well.

“Revali ...”

He harrumphed.

“I have nothing to offer her. She’s a princess! She can do so much better.”

Zelda sighed. He had worked so hard to build his fortune from nothing, to grow his estate to one of the largest and wealthiest in Tabantha, yet was so willing to accept defeat in romance before it ever began. It was surprising in someone generally so prideful.

“Now you know she doesn’t care for such things!” she admonished.

It was his turn to roll his eyes.

“I know,” he sighed. “I just feel that I’m not much competition, especially against a duke.”

She suddenly felt a chill.

“A duke?”

“Didn’t you know? She has been friends with Link Wilder since they were children. Now that he’s a duke he’d be a perfect match for her.”

“You think so?” she asked hesitantly.

“Zelda,” he said, looking at her pityingly. “I know he came to your rescue and may seem the gallant hero, but you mustn’t be naive. He already managed to become a duke out of nowhere, what makes you think he isn’t trying to be a prince?”

Zelda wasn’t sure what to think. This was such a contrast to what Urbosa had said to her, that Link wouldn’t have ridden out to rescue her the way he did if he didn’t care for her in some way. But then, he had been a soldier; perhaps riding to her rescue had been almost out of habit, borne of his sense of duty. Not for the first time Zelda cursed her lack of experience in society. She wished she was able to read people better and didn’t spend so much time in confusion. Revali was far more worldly than she, maybe he knew better than she did.

But Revali was also cynical and mistrusting on a good day, and she already knew he wasn’t fond of Link. He resented Link for gaining a title Revali didn’t think he deserved, and now it seemed Link’s relationship with Mipha was just the frosting on the many-layered fruitcake of Revali’s dislike. Zelda knew Revali wasn’t trying to be cruel, and was genuinely concerned for her. But she hoped he was wrong, for both their sakes. 

If anything, she should be content to have established a friendship with Link. And be happy for both him and Mipha were they to form an arrangement. She and Link had only spent a week together, it was ridiculous to think there was anything more to it. So why did it hurt so much to think about it?

A voice called out behind her before she could chase that line of thought any further.

“There you are!”

As if summoned by their discussion, Link appeared in the doorway leading from the ballroom onto the veranda.

“And speak of the devil …” Revali muttered.

“I had been searching the ballroom for you until Mipha told me to check out here. Aryll is very excited to see your new dress. Which, I must say,” Link said, bowing over her hand in a belated greeting, “is as beautiful as its wearer.”

She blushed, and could practically hear Revali rolling his eyes behind her. She couldn’t deny that had spent most of the ball so far in a state of anticipation, awaiting his arrival. But after her conversation with Revali, Link’s words just served to sow more confusion in her. Was he just being polite? Friendly? Was it possible for him to like her as more than a friend? She wished she knew what he was thinking.

“Link, have you met Revali? Revali Medoh, this is Link Wilder, Duke of Necluda.”

Link moved to offer a handshake, but Revali bowed stiffly before he could, muttering, “Your grace.”

The sound of the musicians warming up for another set filtered through the veranda doors and provided a distraction from the slightly awkward introduction. Link glanced back into the ballroom before turning back to Revali.

“Ah, if you don’t mind, Mr. Medoh, I’d like to borrow Zelda for this dance.”

“Well, that would be up to her, wouldn’t it?” Revali said, his tone on the border between rudeness and bantering.

Zelda could see where this was heading; it was clear Revali would not be shaken from his bad mood. So she thought it best to end the conversation, taking Link’s offered arm and letting him lead her back inside. As they crossed the threshold, the light and heat of the room almost a shock after the dark coolness of the veranda, she glanced back once more at Revali, his face sending her a clear warning: Be careful.

She pushed Revali’s words to the back of the mind and devoted herself to enjoying the rest of the ball. She wanted to end her time in Castle Town on a high note and was determined to not let her doubts get the best of her. She danced with Link, chatted with Aryll and laughed with Mipha. What a contrast to the last ball, she thought as she climbed in the carriage in the early morning hours, exhausted instead from a night of revelry and not from fleeing in tears.

But when Zelda finally made it to her bed, she could only lie there, her mind turning over the things Revali said, her conversations with Link, and Urbosa’s comments. She remembered Link’s odd statement when they had been in the garden at Lanayru. That he hoped she found both happiness and marriage some day. He had seemed so earnest. It had felt as if he was trying to tell her something. She only wished she knew what.

Because as she thought of their time together at Lanayru, and how she’d missed him after he’d left, and her eagerness to return to Castle Town to see him again, and her anticipation of his arrival at the ball — and frankly, how he’d never really left her mind since that day at the pond, despite how much she’d tried to convince herself that she didn’t like him — she could only arrive at one conclusion.

She sat up, fluffing her pillow and straightening her blankets in an attempt to get comfortable. She lay down again and sighed in annoyance. The season was nearly over and she still hadn’t found a suitor. This was no time to fall in love!

After Mipha’s last ball, it was only a matter of days before people began packing up their city homes to return to their estates for the fall and winter. Soon Urbosa would return to Gerudo, and Zelda to Lanayru.

Paya was busily packing up Zelda’s fine dresses and accessories, carefully swaddling them in tissue paper so they would not wrinkle or be damaged on the journey. Zelda packed up all of the items she’d purchased while in Castle Town, including several large crates of books. She was in the midst of packing straw around her bottles of monster extract that she’d gotten at Mr. Kilton’s shop, and smiled at the memory of dragging Paya into the alley to avoid Link. Zelda never had asked him why he had visited the store that day.

She fit the lid on the crate and pasted on a label just as a knock came at her door. She opened it to find Urbosa’s butler with an envelope. Zelda’s heart skipped a beat when she saw it bore the seal of the Duke of Necluda. But upon opening it, she discovered it was in fact an invitation to tea for tomorrow from Aryll. She chided herself for her mild disappointment. What had she expected, a love letter?

The streets seemed strangely empty during the short carriage trip to the lavish mansion that was the city home for the Dukes of Necluda. She was escorted into the hall, finding it crowded with crates, and the rooms filled with furniture covered in white cloths. Aryll rushed out, and the two ladies clasped hands in greeting before heading back to the sitting room where a lovely spread of tea and cakes awaited them.

“I’m so glad to be heading home tomorrow, it’s so spooky in here by myself with everything packed up!”

“By yourself?”

Zelda took the cup and saucer Aryll offered, noting that the table was only set for two. 

Aryll sighed, a mildly annoyed look on her face.

“Yes. My brother was called back to Farore to oversee some new construction. He left on his horse yesterday and I’ll leave tomorrow with the carriage and all of our things. It’s such a long journey, I was really hoping he’d keep me company. But he was insistent the project couldn’t wait.” 

She had been looking forward to seeing Link one last time before she left for home the next day and she felt immense disappointment that he wasn’t here. She had wanted to at least say goodbye. Then Aryll dug in her pocket and pulled out a folded square of paper.

“But! He did leave this for you!” 

Zelda held her breath as she took the paper,  Lady Zelda Bosphoramus written in a careful hand on the front, and unfolded it. Inside, he’d written:

Zelda,

I was called away to Farore for an urgent matter and I had to leave before I could say goodbye. I hope you can forgive me. I wish you a safe return to Lanayru, and request that you write to us when you can. I hope that I may be able to call upon you sometime soon. 

-L

She released the breath she’d held. Was that … all? She read the note over a few times, hoping to wring some kind of meaning out of the few words. She even turned the paper over in case there was more on the back, but it was blank outside of the address. She carefully folded the note back up and tucked it into her own pocket. She was happy that he’d thought to write to her and say goodbye. But he hadn’t said anything more than what Aryll could have told her. Why write at all?

Aryll was clearly awaiting a comment on the contents of the letter. She seemed almost hopeful her brother had said more than he had.

“He says the same as you, that he was called away. And that he hopes we may see each other again soon.”

“Oh, yes, I do hope so! We both hope you might visit Farore before winter sets in!”

Zelda agreed, then decided to change the subject. Winter was still many months away and anything could happen before then.

“So, tell me, what are your plans for the fall?”

Aryll immediately dove into her many plans and schemes for the colder months, and the rest of their time passed in pleasant conversation. Soon it was time for Zelda to return to Urbosa’s for her final evening with her godmother before they both left for their respective homes the next day.

Despite everything, she had had a wonderful summer, and had enjoyed spending the season in Castle Town with Urbosa. Zelda realized it had done her a world of good to get away from Lanayru. Perhaps she should consider taking more journeys away. She had yet to visit Robbie and Purah in Hateno, after all. Necluda was supposed to be beautiful in the fall.

She and Paya were both grateful to be back at Lanayru for good after such a long time away and so much excitement during the summer. Zelda had been a bit nervous to see her father again, considering the entire purpose of her journey to Castle Town was to find a suitor and she had failed. But she was pleasantly surprised that he never once brought up marriage or suitors or eligible bachelors.

She supposed that after the disaster that was the affair with Lord Ganon, her father had decided to leave well enough alone. He didn’t even ask about Link, which Zelda regarded as an impressive amount of restraint for her father. The last days of summer passed slowly and quietly. Her 21st birthday, the former deadline for her to accept Ganon’s marriage proposal, came without comment beyond a small family celebration.

When she went up to her room once they had returned to Lanayru, it was to find all of the research materials that her father had confiscated left in neat stacks and crates for her to put away. She was glad to have them all back, and glad that her father had reversed his stance on her research projects. But she found she didn’t have much enthusiasm for resuming her studies. She had so eagerly brought home her new books and instruments and extracts, but it somehow felt empty without someone to share it with. She had never felt more eager to begin an experiment, or design a mechanical device, as she had been when she described them to Link.

She picked up the slate, and smiled at the memory of him turning it on, and their discovery of the guidebook and the map. As she looked through the entries of the flowers and creatures of Hyrule, a thought occurred to her. If somehow Link felt the same way about her as she did about him, what might that mean? Did the life of a duchess appeal to her more than the life of a simple researcher she had envisioned for herself before? Not especially. But she was willing to give it a try if it meant being with Link. Somehow she knew that life as his duchess would not be the dull life of high society. But that was getting a bit ahead of things, wasn’t it? Her imagination was running away with her once again.

After a few weeks, the heavy humidity that marked late summer finally lifted and the crisp scent of autumn filled the air, the leaves on the trees slowly turning shades of gold and copper. This was the time many people took their last journeys of the year to visit friends and family before the roads became impassable in the wet and snowy winter. Zelda had been feeling restless since she had returned home, and made the last-minute decision to finally make the promised journey out to Hateno to visit Purah and Robbie.

Since Link had managed to unlock the Sheikah Slate all those weeks ago, Zelda had done her best to add the missing entries into what she’d taken to calling the “Hyrule Compendium.” There were many entries she suspected she would not be able to fill, flora and fauna that only existed in the frozen mountains of Hebra, or the burning slopes of Death Mountain, but she knew there was plenty she could fill in from the shores of Lake Hylia, or the rocky foothills near the Dueling Peaks, that she would pass on her way to Hateno. And once in Hateno, she would be close to the ocean. She had never seen the ocean, and she looked forward to walking with her cousins and adding the missing entries for ironshell crab and hearty blueshell snails.

Coincidentally, the Duke of Necluda’s main residence, Farore, was just outside of Hateno. Apparently the lab construction that Purah and Robbie had invited her out to see was being funded by the duke, and built on his land, a hill that jutted out over the ocean and overlooked the town.

She did not write to inform Link or Aryll that she was going to be in Hateno. She and Aryll had exchanged a few letters since Zelda had left Castle Town, and she had received one from Link as well, a few paragraphs on the goings on in their lives, as well as some tidbits on various projects he had described to her on one of their walks about the gardens at Lanayru during his recovery. Despite the fact that both brother and sister had made mention of inviting her to the estate for a visit, neither had mentioned it in their brief letters, which left Zelda feeling shy about inviting herself. She decided she would leave it a surprise, and if they were to meet, it would be by happenstance.

The journey to Hateno went without incident, and her cousins greeted her cheerfully, Purah nearly snatching the slate from Zelda’s hand as soon as she stepped from the carriage. Robbie showed her up to her room, which, he proudly stated, had recently been cleared of its former contents (Sheikah shrine orbs, ancient weapons, rusted shields and random fossils found during various excavations) just for her. They had begun the process of gathering up the various artifacts and specimens that filled their small home, cataloguing them and packing them carefully into crates, ready to be transported to the lab once it was built.

Both of them were so excited about the lab.

“It really is quite generous of the duke to build the lab for you!” Zelda said, hoping to glean more information about the project.

“Remember that day you came to visit us in Castle Town? Well he came by just before you did to suggest the idea to us! Said he thought it would be a boon to the community, and we couldn’t agree more!”

Purah looked smug.

“He’s even rushing the project, attempting to get it built before winter sets in. He wants it completed by spring. Of course it doesn’t get as cold here as it does in central Hyrule where you are, but still, the winds off of the ocean can be brutal and the snow falls deep! Robbie and I just can’t wait to get all of our artifacts moved in.”

Zelda wondered what the rush could be, but figured Link was motivated by his sense of duty to the community. She could only admire such dedication, and envied her cousins’ new facility.

Zelda spent the next few days assisting Purah and Robbie with packing, labeling and cataloguing the items in her careful penmanship. She had assigned herself that task after seeing the few manifests already prepared, some in Robbie’s haphazard printing and the rest in Purah’s messy scrawl.

The time not spent tagging, cataloguing and packing was spent exploring the area around Hateno and filling in the missing entries in the compendium. Zelda loved her first visit to the ocean, wasting no time in tying up her skirts and removing her shoes and stockings so she could stand in the surf, observing the tiny ocean creatures as they darted about her feet. Hateno was beautiful, encompassing so many different types of terrain. Long, sandy beaches surrounded towering cliffs that were terraced into rice paddies, vegetable fields and orchards. The town was studded with apple trees of all kinds; Zelda was sad to discover she would miss the village’s annual apple festival. Wild forests and gently rolling hills accompanied the road out of town that led to the Dueling Peaks in one direction and Kakariko village to the other.

She loved living in central Hyrule, with its wide flower-filled fields, dense ancient forests and winding rivers, but she was enchanted with the varied environments of Hateno. It seemed a new discovery was always hidden around the next tree or mountain, and she longed to have the time to thoroughly explore the area. And if she had another reason to wish to linger in Hateno, she kept it to herself.

But her hopes of accidentally encountering the duke, or even his sister, while strolling along the quaint streets of the village seemed to have been in vain. It had been a few days already and she had yet to see any sign of him. She had no reason to make the journey out to Farore, and she didn’t want to explain to her cousins why she might want to visit.

Perhaps that was for the best. Knowing she was coming primarily to work with dusty artifacts and traipse about the countryside, Zelda had only brought along one of her nicer gowns, instead filling her case with her old and comfortable work dresses. She even had her old faded pink dress; Paya had done a remarkable job removing any stains left by the mud splattered on her by the octorock. She smiled at the thought. It was funny to think that day that had caused her so much shame and dismay had soon become one of her favorite memories.

After a few days they had completed most of the packing and cataloguing, which only left the tour of the lab construction site. And then home to Lanayru the next morning. The day of the tour dawned warm and bright, for autumn, with a chill breeze sweeping off the mountains warning that winter was on its way. 

Robbie said they’d need to get the key for the gates around the construction site, since it was locked up to prevent anyone from getting in and potentially getting injured. The keys were held at Farore. Zelda had managed to avoid it for her entire stay in Hateno, but she supposed it was fitting that she face her fears on her last full day in the village. Her cousins and she piled, a bit on top of each other, into their pony cart and headed north out of the village toward the estate. It was a fairly short journey, and soon they were driving up the lane that ran up to the front of the house.

Purah chided Zelda for her fidgeting, complaining that she was jabbing her with her elbow. Zelda couldn’t help it. She felt so nervous having not sent a letter and then spending an entire week without saying she was staying in the village only to pull up to Link’s front door unannounced. Logically she knew Link and Aryll would likely not care and would happily welcome her into their home, but something about recognizing her feelings for Link only made the situation seem more fraught than it was. Her nerves only increased the farther the cart came into the estate. Soon it was rumbling over a wooden bridge built over a small ravine, a clear creek rushing along the bottom and spilling into a large pond full of lily pads and reeds.

And there was Farore, a sprawling estate built up against a cliff, flanked on one side by an apple orchard and on the other by an expansive stable. The trees in the orchard were heavy with red fruit ready for the harvest, and she could see many workers darting about the trees and rushing about the stables, exercising horses, cleaning stalls and maintaining tack. Zelda was instantly taken with the home, the autumn sun casting it in warm colors, the changing leaves on the trees complementing the rich brown tones of the traditional Hateno stucco.

The cart soon pulled up to the front door of the home, a grand two-door affair in a heavy wood stained a dark brown, covered all over in intricate geometric carvings. Zelda had initially planned to remain in the carriage, hopefully evading notice of the estate’s residents, but she found the carvings in the door too fascinating to not get a closer look. She followed her cousins to the door, her eye drawn to the carving of nested crescent moons surrounding a smaller disc that was carved into each corner of the two large doors, picked out in shining brass. Robbie pulled the bell and Zelda held her breath.

They could hear the deep gong of the bell farther in the house, the nothing. It was a few minutes before one of the doors swung open on silent hinges to reveal a housemaid in green and gold livery. She gave the visitors a quick curtsy.

“I’m sorry, but his grace and Lady Aryll are not here to welcome visitors. We ask that you might visit again when they have returned home.”

Zelda was equal parts relieved and disappointed.

“That’s all right,” Purah said. “We’re just here to collect the key for the lab.”

“Oh, I’m sorry again, miss. But Mr. Bolson has got the key already, and is up at the lab site right now. He left not too long ago, you must have just missed him.”

“Bolson is the construction manager overseeing the lab project,” Robbie told her in an aside. “We can just meet him there!”

Robbie and Purah turned and went back to the carriage. Summoning up her courage, Zelda caught the maid just before she closed the door.

“Pardon me, but do you know when the duke or his sister might return to Hateno?”

“Oh, miss, I can’t say for certain,” the maid said with a smile. “There’s much to do at the Domain what with planning the wedding and all! They likely won’t return for another several weeks. We only hope they get back before winter sets in.”

Zelda felt as if a great stone had settled in her stomach.

“The ... wedding?”

“Oh yes, what a blessing! To form such close ties with the Rutas! Them just over the mountains and already so close with his grace! We’re over the moon, we are.”

The maid suddenly looked contrite, covering her hand with her mouth.

“Oh, I don’t think I was supposed to tell anyone yet … miss, please don’t say anything!”

Zelda didn’t think she could say anything even if she wanted to. She smiled and nodded, then slowly joined her cousins. So Revali had been right.

Purah gave her a sharp look.

“Everything alright? You look a bit pale. What did the maid have to say?”

Zelda plastered a smile on her face.

“I just asked when the duke might be returning. I’m fine, really. I think I’m just a little warm, is all. Let’s get up to the lab, I am eager to see it!”

The journey back passed in a blur and Zelda struggled to focus on the tour of the lab. Bolson was indeed at the site and was happy to show them around and discuss all of the recent additions. Two floors, a tower that would house a telescope and observation platform, and they had even uncovered another Sheikah guidance stone, which meant now they had two. Pura was delighted, and Robbie was already making plans. On a usual day, Zelda would have been in raptures over everything she saw at the lab. But instead she followed her cousins and Mr. Bolson about the lab site in a daze, unable to keep the words “wedding” and “Rutas” from tumbling helplessly about her brain. 

Finally the tour was over and they returned to the cottage. They had a quiet dinner, a muted celebration for her last night staying with them. Zelda made an effort to be present, not wanting her melancholy mood to ruin her final night with her cousins. But despite her attempt, she noticed Robbie and Purah exchanging concerned looks. She was grateful they chose not to pry. She retired early, citing a need to be well rested for her journey home the next day.

In the morning she said her goodbyes to her cousins and settled into the coach for the long trip back to Lanayru. The trip gave Zelda plenty of time to think, which she wasn’t sure was a good thing or a bad thing. She knew she had been foolish to let herself get swept up in Link’s good looks, his friendliness. Foolish to read his kind gestures as anything more. Foolish to fall in love with him. She had tried to be realistic but got carried away once again. Link had an obligation to the people under his care, and he took that very seriously. Part of that obligation extended to making a good and advantageous match when it came to marriage. And what better match than a princess, who also was an old friend? She knew that Mipha adored Link, and it didn’t take much imagination to see her happily accepting his proposal.

Her heart felt like lead in her chest, and she couldn’t seem to stop torturing herself with memories of the time they had spent together at Lanayru. Or their meetings in Castle Town. Or the fact that he went out of his way to rescue her from Lord Ganon. She really had felt they had made a connection, the comfort and familiarity they had in each other’s presence that of people who had known each other all of their lives.

But he had made no declarations of love and he certainly had made her no promises. Any notions of love or romance had been completely of her own invention. Zelda was grateful that she had all of the fall and winter months to forget all about Link and to move on with her life.

Zelda arrived home just as the weather turned, heavy slate grey clouds covering the sky and icy rain soaking into the earth. When she got back up to her room she found letters from both Mipha and Aryll waiting for her, but she just didn’t have the heart to open them and read the happy news they were surely eager to share with her.

She was glad she at least had a good excuse for not sending a reply. Late autumn and winter brought mail to a halt in Hyrule, only the most vital missives deemed worthy of the risk. The heavy rains that fell would soak the roads and turn them into soupy mud that was disastrous to the fragile legs of horses and the spoked wheels of carriages. Then once the rains cleared the temperature would drop, freezing the mud into a treacherous terrain of ruts and holes and gullies. Regular correspondence wouldn’t resume until after the spring thaw. Zelda hoped that by then she would have the courage to open the letters.

She spent the cold months virtually trapped indoors, except for the occasional stroll around the house when the weather relented, and threw herself back into her research projects as a distraction. Miraculously the octorock parts Link had rescued from the pond had not rotted in their time packed away, instead drying up and shrivelling. She ground them in her mortar and pestle and used the resulting powder in various elixir experiments, beginning a new journal full of her own recipes for elixirs of various potencies, enhancing stamina and strength and more.

The monster extract she’d bought from Mr. Kilton’s shop proved to be a wonder, either completely negating the effects of the elixirs, or creating an extremely powerful elixir that would last for many hours. She would have to get more next summer in Castle Town, since she would have to return for yet another season in another attempt at finding a suitor. She regarded the prospect with little enthusiasm.

Almost before she knew it, spring had come once again. Her elixir research kept her busy, and helped her to keep her mind mostly off of Link. Her heart still ached whenever she thought of him, but the sharpness of it had dulled over the weeks, and had become mostly bearable. Soon the roads thawed and dried, and the first cautious travellers hit the roads. It wasn’t long before regular traffic and trade began, everyone anxious to get out of the house and into the fresh air. Much of the Lanayru staff had completed the interior projects that kept them occupied during the winter and now volunteered to help in the gardens, seeking any excuse to be outside to enjoy the weather.

Zelda felt the same, and eagerly dressed in her favorite faded pink work gown, put on her sturdy boots, grabbed her basket, and headed out into the wild. She soon found herself at the pond again where it seemed her life’s turning points were destined to occur. She stood gazing at it for a time before walking closer, sure that this day would be unremarkable. She surely had run out of excitement in her life. The most intriguing thing would be to finally catch the hot-footed frogs that had drawn her into the pond that first time. Again she was careful to check for octorocks, then removed her boots and stockings, tied up her dress, and headed into the water.

She could hear the frogs’ quiet chirping amongst the reeds. She had the forethought to bring along a basket with a secure lid and managed to catch two rather quickly. But it seemed that attempting to catch slippery frogs while clutching a basket was overly challenging, so she brought the basket to shore before returning for more frogs. But in that time it seemed the frogs had caught on to her, and each frog she encountered was more wily than the one before it. Soon she was scampering about in the reeds, slipping in the mud, and laughing as the large frog she was after hopped about chaotically. It was the most she’d enjoyed herself in many months, the spring sunshine and physical activity lifting her spirits. She felt lighter than she had in weeks.

“Got you!” she cried, finally clamping two hands about the middle of the frog and pinning it to the mud.

It struggled in her grasp before she was able to pick it up, and once she was sure she had a good grip on it, she lifted it up triumphantly to inspect it in the late afternoon sunshine. It was a fine, fat specimen! After her battle with the frog, her hands were covered in mud up to her forearms, and it began to trickle down her arms and into her sleeves. Her race about the pond had splashed quite a bit of water on to the skirt of her dress, and Zelda found she had worked up quite a sweat during her chase. Her hair had begun to slip out of its braid, long strands sticking to her face, her skin warm and red after her exertions. She awkwardly attempted to push the tickling hairs back while maintaining her grip on the frog, but succeeded only in smearing mud along one cheek. She must look a fright! But Zelda didn’t much care. Her father may frown at her when she got back home, but she had had too much fun chasing frogs that morning to worry about it.

She had been so focused on catching the frogs that she had paid no attention to anything happening on the road. Intent on depositing her struggling prize in the basket with its fellows, she only noticed the horse and its rider stopped in the road after she climbed out of the pond and crested the bank. She froze, a strong sense of deja vu washing over her, when she recognized the gentleman in fine clothes sitting astride a beautiful chestnut horse.

The rider dismounted and approached her. She remained fixed to the spot, the mud drying on her hands and in her hair, the frog forgotten and gently wriggling and kicking its webbed feet.

Zelda was too surprised for niceties.

“What are you doing here?” she demanded.

Link smiled and bowed to her as if they were in a ballroom and not at a pond.

“Hello to you too, Zelda.”

Zelda couldn’t think of a single thing else to say. What could he possibly be doing here? All she could do was stare at him and watch as Link reached into his pocket, pulling out a folded square of cloth.

“I … I came to return this,” he said, holding the cloth out. She recognized it as her handkerchief, her initials embroidered in the corner. It was the one she’d pressed upon him at their first fateful meeting.

She looked at the handkerchief in his outstretched hand before remembering she was holding the frog, which had given up its struggle for the moment to hang limply from her grasp.

“Let me just … “

She lifted the frog in explanation, then turned about, unsure for a moment what to do. She cursed her sluggish mind, and cursed how rattled she was, and really, cursed him for showing up out of nowhere, before she finally remembered her basket. She knelt down, hoping to quickly stuff the frog inside. But as soon as she opened the lid on the basket, one of the other frogs chose that moment to make a break for it, and she had a frantic few moments scrambling about in the grass, finally getting all three of her captives secure under the lid.

She supposed she simply was destined to make a fool out of herself in front of him. Perhaps it was pointless to worry about her actions or the state of her clothes and hair and was better to pretend everything was normal. She stood up as gracefully as she could with her bare feet and wet skirt tied up about her knees to see that he was still patiently holding her handkerchief out to her. 

“Thank you,” she said primly, ignoring the mud and frog slime on her hands, accepting the handkerchief from him and tucking it into her pocket. Seeking something to do with her hands, she bent down and picked up her basket.

“You came all the way from Hateno to return my handkerchief? Aren’t you busy planning a wedding?”

She knew she was being rude, but seeing him again caused all of her confusion and heartache to boil up again, just when she had finally begun to put it behind her. Her surprise at his appearance shifted into anger. She was finished with trying to guess, and wanted answers.

He looked taken aback at her question.

“Wedding? Most of that is done by now.”

He looked confused.

“Did you not get Aryll’s last letter? She does so want you to be at the wedding. Mipha as well.”

Of course, if he believed them to be friends he would have no issues with inviting her to his wedding. Still, it seemed strange that he would ride all of the way out here just to invite her. It almost seemed cruel. She never had gotten the courage to open Aryll or Mipha’s letter, choosing instead to pretend they didn’t exist. She had resisted the temptation to burn them, instead stuffing them in the very back of her least-used desk drawer. As if opening them would make whatever news they contained too real.

When she didn’t answer he decided to forge ahead on his own.

“No, of course I didn’t come all this way to return your handkerchief. I wanted to ask you … well, I know we only have known each other a short time, and perhaps you are not ready after the events of last summer with Lord Ganon. But ever since that day at the pond a year ago, I haven’t been able to … And now the lab is nearly complete — if I had known you would be visiting Hateno I would have come back sooner …”

She stared at him. What was he going on about? She was surprised to hear him rambling. Link was usually so composed, so very sure of himself in all situations. She remembered how he was before Ganon, completely unafraid, able to stare down a man nearly twice his size. She frequently envied his composure. But now he seemed flustered, almost nervous. Even more surprising was that his nervousness seemed to erase her own and she felt calm and composed.

Link closed his eyes and took a deep breath, holding it as if to center himself. He really was nervous! She relished the rare role reversal; she had been nervous and flustered in his presence too many times not to. Besides, she found it quite endearing.

When he didn’t continue his odd speech, she decided to take the initiative.

“You came to ask me something?”

He let go of his breath, and opened his eyes to meet her own, an intensity to his look that hadn’t been there before. He took a step closer, and took her hands in his own, the basket full of frogs hanging between them, its contents rustling about and emitting the occasional quiet ribbit. She could feel his hands trembling slightly against her own.

“I wanted to wait until the lab was completed. It’s not, it still needs some finishing touches, which I suspect you would like to oversee. I know we haven’t known each other long, and this may seem sudden, but I can only hope that you perhaps hold me in the same regard in which I hold you. I came here to ask if you might consider marriage. With me.”

He clamped his mouth shut in annoyance, and gave his head a firm shake before making another attempt.

“Zelda, I came to ask — would you be my wife?”

She couldn’t breathe. She felt like the world had ground to a standstill, the birds frozen in the sky, the bees caught in the flowers, the breeze trapped in the leaves of the trees. Even her heart seemed frozen, caught between beats. And then she felt it begin to beat again, and everything snapped back into motion.

He wanted to marry … her?

“I … but … what about Mipha?”

The confused look returned to his face, clearly not the answer he was expecting.

“What about Mipha?”

“Aren’t you marrying Mipha?”

“What?! What made you think that?”

“When I … when I was visiting Hateno we stopped by Farore to pick up the key to the lab. Your housemaid told us you were in Zora’s domain to plan a wedding, and …”

“And you took that to mean I was marrying Mipha?” He laughed. “So you didn’t read Aryll’s letter after all.”

Her cheeks reddened. Thankfully he didn’t ask for an explanation.

“The wedding we were planning was for Aryll. And Sidon. What has been mostly puppy love for the past several years became the real thing over the summer. But since they both are the younger siblings, they would have to wait for either Mipha or me to marry. Luckily for Aryll, I already had a plan for that.”

She gazed at him in wonder. Her assumptions had gotten the best of her yet again, and she had spent the winter nursing a broken heart for nothing. She was so relieved to have been wrong. She hadn’t misread him at all.

“Wait, you want me to finish the lab? You built the lab … for me?” He built her a lab! Zelda felt like her heart might burst with joy.

“I know a ring is a more traditional engagement gift, but somehow I thought you’d appreciate the lab more.”

Zelda couldn’t help the grin that spread across her face. After the pressure of having to hunt for a suitable match, and almost being forced to marry Lord Ganon, then her heartbreak over the winter … she had found the love match she had always dreamed about. And what could be more suitable than a duke? A duke who proposed to her covered in mud and pond water, a duke that would encourage her scholarly pursuits, instead of expecting her to put them aside in favor of running a household.

“So …” Link said hesitantly. “Is that a yes?”

She looked at him a moment, hardly able to believe that her search for elixir ingredients a year ago had led to a chance encounter that would change her life.

“Yes,” she said. “It is.”

Chapter Text

They had just finished a celebratory dinner, her father bringing up bottles of his special brandy and inviting the household staff for a toast in honor of their engagement. Zelda thought she had never been so happy as she was right at that moment. As sad as she was to leave her home and her family behind, she was equally excited to begin her new life with Link in Hateno.

Her father had suggested she show Link the Gallery, and Zelda was surprised to realize she had never taken him there when he had stayed with them last summer. They both had a preference for spending their time outdoors, the garden holding more appeal than the confines of the house.

As they walked, she took the opportunity to solve one of the mysteries of the summer.

“You know, Paya and I visited Mr. Kilton’s shop while we were in the city. And who did we see leaving the shop but the famous Duke of Necluda?”

He looked at her in surprise.

“Did you? But I never saw you!”

She smiled.

“We hid in a nearby alley. That was when I didn’t like you.”

He laughed, and pulled her closer to him as they wove through the artifact displays that dotted the Gallery floor.

“But you like me now, don’t you?”

“Maybe. I’d like you more if you told me why you were there.”

He gave her a dazzling smile, and she felt a surge of affection at how his face lit up.

“I had read about Mr. Kilton’s famous monster extract and its many uses in making elixirs.”

“Oh? I didn’t realize you had an interest in elixirs.”

“I didn’t until I met the most fascinating girl in a pond who told me all about them. I was hoping I could impress her someday with my knowledge on the topic.”

She beamed at him. He had confessed that it had been love at first sight, utterly captivated by the fine lady standing in a pond, covered in mud and staring down an octorock.

They had worked their way through the displays and had arrived at the back of the gallery, standing before the plinth and the sword it held. The moonlight flooded in through the large windows of the alcove, bathing the sword in an ethereal light.

“So that’s the famous sword of legend,” Link said.

“It is. I’m sure it’s a replica, a sculpture in honor of the original. It seems absurd that it could be real. Though that didn’t seem to stop Lord Ganon. He really thought he could be king.”

Link smiled at her before releasing her hand and going over to the sword. She had told him about Ganon’s attempt to pull the sword, and that his failure to free it was what lead to her kidnapping.

“It’s only fair that I get a chance as well, don’t you think?”

He wrapped his hand about the hilt, and it seemed as if everything stilled, a thick silence filling the room. With almost no effort at all, Link slid the sword from the plinth and held it up. They stared at each other in shock.

“It’s real …” Zelda breathed. “That means …”

Link swallowed nervously, before making a decision and turning the sword point down again and sliding it back into the marble of the floor. Once he did, the small noises of the night flooded back into the room, the chirping of the crickets, the creak of the floorboards above them, the distant calls of night birds.

He came out of the alcove and resumed his grip on her hand, and they stared into each other’s eyes, too shocked to say anything for a moment.

“Let’s … let's just pretend that didn’t happen,” he said.

“Yes, I think that’s a very good idea.”

They took one last look at the sword, the moonlight still casting it in an otherworldly light, before turning their backs on it and walking out of the Gallery, leaving it behind.