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“Care to take a break?”
Zelda restrained herself from rolling her eyes and instead flashed an annoyed glance over the rims of the unnecessary reading glasses resting on her nose.
They make you look older; the people will be reminded of your father. Wear them.
“This speech won’t write itself, unfortunately. Go bother someone else, Link.”
The dashing man simply grinned, canines flashing the way they did when he was in particularly good humor while he leaned forward on extended arms over the paper-strewn mahogany desk.
“That’s no fun. Besides, that brunch is going to be full of senior nobility; half of them won’t be able to hear that speech regardless, and the other half will be more concerned trying to keep their dentures in place because they refuse to acknowledge their age and give up honeyed apple tarts. Come on, take a break. You’ve been at it all morning.”
“You’re as bad as Purah,” she grumbled, rising in spite of her words and better judgement. “I don’t know what possessed me to promote you to advisor. You’ve been an incorrigible irritant ever since.”
Though her tone was exasperated, she couldn’t keep the corner of her mouth from tugging up as she dropped those blasted frames atop the nearest pile of work that could have easily been taken care of by her board of directors last week.
You need to prove you are capable of filling your father’s shoes. You are quite young to be a ruler, you know. Be patient.
Link smirked.
“It’s because your people love me, and your council is sexist . You needed to slip someone past them they’d be too blind to realize had actual common sense. Hence, me.”
He took her arm and placed it in his, ignoring her narrowed eyes and rhetorical, “must you be so crude?”
They walked in silence the short length to the ballroom where sunlight was streaming through the immense glass windows, lathering the room with light. The moment it touched her skin a sigh escaped her lips, shivers slithering down her spine. The air was clean and cool, the warmth felt heavenly, and her worries seemed to melt from her psyche with every breath. It was glorious.
She turned back to face her companion, a smile lifting her lips.
“I should have done this sooner.”
He chuckled.
“I won’t say I told you so, but in saying that, of course, I just did.”
That man isn’t fit to reside within castle walls. He doesn’t qualify. Being of the hero’s bloodline can’t excuse him from irresponsible, incompetent, and frankly, annoying behavior. Who is he to treat you in such a casual manner?
They were jealous of him, his skill and potential. But what really galled the self-important men who sat on her board was the way in which Link was able to understand and interact with herself—the queen—and the way she let him.
“Do you live to tease me?” she sighed.
He shrugged and placed her hand on his shoulder while clasping her other in his.
They did this occasionally; dance together. It was therapeutic. Waltzing to imagined melodies in the arms of a trusted and close friend without the eyes of an audience or the constraints of fancy attire. She did not, however, usually lay her head on his shoulder the way she did now. Link did not respond outwardly, but she felt his muscles stiffen beneath her cheek and fingers and secretly admired the firmness born from countless hours of physical training. Everything about him was tense, but maybe it had something to do with the way she had whispered, “I’ve fallen in love with you.”
A lengthy pause ensued that would have been unendurable had he not continued to spin her around the ballroom floor.
A beat.
Another beat.
“Are you sure?”
“What? Yes.” She was incredulous. “Of course. I know my own heart.” Pause. “It wasn’t intentional.”
At that, he laughed.
“Not intentional? My, that’s a shock. To say love didn’t originate from command; you must be the first.”
“I hate you.”
“Well, which is it? Because not minutes ago the story was much different.”
Zelda hummed, basking in his warmth, not wanting to separate herself from his skin and risk facing his serious reaction.
“You don’t have to respond, you know,” she began, still speaking into his shoulder. “We have an easy friendship that I wouldn’t trade for a whole board of new counselors. It’s hard to find close friends in the castle; you know this. Link, I am terribly sorry. I really shouldn’t have said—”
His mouth was on hers before she could complete the thought, her cheek no longer resting against his shoulder but pressed between his palms.
He tasted like the mints from the room adjoining her study meant for those who had to wait for an audience with the queen. Link was known to use them as stress relievers when the nobles in the room “whispered” insults about him, envious of his somewhat exclusive access to her royal highness. Evidently, it had been a rough day for both of them.
Now, however, the day was most definitely turning around; Link was kissing her with wild abandon, with fervency like the feral wolf he was too often teased to be. And as for Zelda, well, her skin was quivering with electricity, and she was torn between sensations of sheer bliss and stark regret that she hadn’t told him earlier. Had she known it would elicit this kind of reaction, she would have confessed her love last week after that horrible diplomatic catastrophe with the minister of Faron.
He pulled back with puffy lips and shining eyes.
“I have been waiting to do that since you had the cheek to promote me to your personal staff.”
Her head was still swimming.
“What?”
His eyes, goddess, they were so blue. And they seemed to pierce straight through her like the shine of the luminous stones that came from Zora’s Domain.
“You can’t have a hot-blooded man near you at virtually all times and expect him not to want to…” his eyes raked down her from, and she swallowed.
“Your Highness, I have for y—”
The unwelcome and slightly whiny voice stuttered to an abrupt halt.
Zelda’s gaze zeroed in on the lord behind Link’s shoulder, and, after the initial shock passed, she made a valiant effort not to sag in disappointment and annoyance. The success of such effort was ambiguous at best.
“Ahem, I’ll, I’ll—”
“Just leave it with Paya in the front office; she’ll get to them later,” Link instructed, nodding towards Zelda, voice low and authoritative and just a bit hoarse.
When no rebuke came from her, the nobleman bowed with a dubiously raised brow before shuffling away.
“I’m going to get a lot of flack for that later, you know. They already hate your title much less you using the power it gives you.”
“And I’ll be right by your side to help you deal with it. I’m good at smoothing over sticky situations; I would call to your memory the Courser Bee Honey incident.”
“Link!” She slapped his chest. “We agreed to never bring that up! And stop looking at me like that while the doors are open and anyone could walk by; it’s all kinds of improper.”
“Well,” he bagan, and there was fire in his eyes as he snatched her waist and pulled her flush against his body. “I look forward to smearing the good name of propriety as much as possible in the near future.”
“If while I pinch the bridge of my nose I also elbow you in the face due to our current proximity, do not expect an apology.”
“I didn’t hear an objection.”
Zelda contemplated her options. She let her eyes roam over the features of his face, let her skin absorb the warmth of his hands and the sun, still shining brilliantly through the windows, and thought of how deliciously large a majority of the council would absolutely seethe at her choosing Link.
“That’s because there isn’t one.”
“Good.”
And his lips met hers again.
Amidst the myriad of emotions and senses swirling around in her head, one thought crossed her consciousness before she was lost once more to bliss:
Thank Hylia she wasn’t wearing those stupid glasses.