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“Wait, you’re leaving me with him?”
It had only been a handful of weeks since that dreadful boy with the sword was appointed as her cavalier. And frankly, Zelda needed more time to let that horrible fact sink in. It needed to marinate for a few days. Maybe a couple of weeks more. To a month. A year at best—definitely not right this instant!
“Apologies, Your Highness. But I can’t always be your third wheel.” Her aide shuffled across her chambers, hat tinkling with every step. “His Majesty gave me orders to visit the lab. As an adviser, I have other duties to attend to.”
Zelda’s chair squeaked as she leaned back to glare at the woman through her vanity mirror. “Impa, this is a betrayal.”
“You’ll live, Princess.” The young Sheikah didn’t even bat an eye. “It’s your day off. Enjoy it while it lasts.”
“How exactly am I supposed to do that when he is practically boring a hole through my skull with his stare?” Zelda had to stop herself from foaming at the mouth in anger. “I can’t seem to walk down a corridor without his eyes glued to my back.”
Impa scoffed, her lithe hands running through golden locks. “You’re exaggerating, ‘Highness.”
She most definitely was not! Okay, maybe she was. But it sure felt like that! “My day is ruined. You’ve ruined it with awful news.”
“It’s barely started, Your Highness.” Impa mumbled as she tied the end of the braid. “I’m sure your day will turn around.”
“There’s no recovering from this, Impa.” A curt knocking rudely cut their conversation. “Great. It’s gotten worse.”
“Ah, I must go. Have a good day, Princess.” The ashen haired woman bowed. “Try not to strangle the poor guy, won’t you?”
Zelda’s quip was met with a flutter of paper.
Another light rap on the door. She sighed, letting the chair screech against wood as she stood. Grabbing the cloak draped across her bed, she made her way—begrudgingly—to open the double oak doors.
Her cavalier greeted her with a deep bow. Most likely to show off the artifact strapped to his back. The cur.
“Good morning, Sir.” Zelda said with a saccharine smile. “I’m sure Impa has told you of my plans for the day.” She didn’t wait for a reply. Not that there would be one. “You’re welcome to go—” her smile dropping “—off on your own.”
She stepped around him and walked down the halls. Boots muffled by the crimson carpet. Her skirt billowed with every stride.
Heavy footfalls followed.
She quickened her pace.
A light jog nipping at her heels.
She turned to face him, mere inches from colliding with the boy. “Didn’t I tell you to go?” He only blinked at her. She could feel her eyes twitch in annoyance. “Okay, Sir,” the word like a curse on her tongue, “I’ll give you twenty rupees to leave me alone.”
No response.
“Alright, perhaps that was too stingy. Fifty rupees, then.”
A blink.
“…You drive a hard bargain, Sir. A hundred rupees.”
He cocked his head to the side. Blue eyes boring into her soul.
“Three… hundred?” Her voice wavered.
Zelda could swear she saw him grimace.
This is extortion! “A thousand rupees?”
He placed his hands on his hips, waiting.
“Do you want the entire royal treasury?” She was already planning a heist.
But, fortunately for Hyrule’s vault, talking to her knight was like talking to a brick wall. Really, a wall would be a much better conversationalist than this boy. She seethed at his blank expression, and hissed, “Fine. If you so insist on following.”
She whipped away from the boy, lavishing at the thought of her heavy braided hair smacking his blubbering face. But knowing him, he would have no reaction. Not even a flinch. She didn’t spare a glance just to check as she went down the spiral staircase hurriedly.
Impa was wrong. There was no salvaging this day. It was all downhill from here. For what little freedom she was given, she just had to have him dogging at her heels like a lost pup. She imagined Hylia was cackling at her Golden Seat in the Sacred Realms.
Goddesses, this was going to be a long, excruciating day, wasn’t it?
Castletown’s thoroughfare was a lively sight at this hour of the day. Children were running along cobblestone streets, chasing dogs and birds. Couples were seated on the edge of the fountain, whispering sickeningly sweet nothings to each other. Shopkeepers were barking and hawking at passers-by, hoping to get at least one patron.
Of course, Zelda ignored all of this. She only had one itinerary in mind. She knew where she was going. As her feet took her to a quiet nook in the town’s bustling streets, where a run-of-the-mill bookshop stood.
The bell chimed a welcome as she pushed the door open.
Immediately, the smell of parchment reached her nose. And the sound of a pen scratching on paper stopped, when a gruff voice greeted her.
“Ah, Your Highness, welcome back. It’s been a while.”
Zelda pushed back the hood of her cloak, and smiled. “Gorko, am I that recognizable?”
Gorko was one of the few Gorons who lived in the Castletown proper. They always tend to be merchants of sorts; one of them sold spring water if she remembered correctly. She once thought the action to be sacrilegious, considering scooping water from the Sacred Springs was practically desecration. Now, she couldn’t care less.
The large Goron behind the counter laughed. “The fancy cloak is a dead giveaway, Princess. And, oh!”
The bell rang a second time.
Zelda almost forgot about him. Almost.
“H-hello. You must be the Hylian Champion.” The Goron sheepishly waved a large hand in the air. “I’m Gorko, I run this used bookshop.” When her knight didn’t respond, he chuckled nervously. “I was, uh, kinda expectin’ the Sheikah lady escorting Her Highness but, boy, what a surprise!”
Zelda glanced at her knight standing a few paces away from her. Still silent as ever. Aren’t you at least going to introduce yourself? Or are you that presumptuous?
The boy simply nodded.
It took Zelda all her might not to roll her eyes until they fell out of their sockets. She flashed Gorko a smile. “Yes, I’m afraid Impa had some business to attend to. This is Sir Link,” his name like a poison down her throat. “My appointed knight will be my escort for now until the foreseeable future.”
To think the princess would waste her breath to introduce her lowly knight when he could’ve done so himself. Zelda sent a scowl his way. But the boy was much too busy looking around the shop to notice.
“Well, feel free to have a look around, Your Highness.” Gorko pointed at the shelf on the farside of the shop. “We got new ones on that shelf there, if you’d consider them new, that is.”
She was already sifting through the pile and reading the spines.
“You’re welcome to check stuff too, uh, Mister Champion… Sir.”
Zelda frowned at Gorko’s futile attempt. Perhaps she could help ease the tension. “There’s a certain charm to used books, isn’t there? You can tell how well loved it is by—”
“Achoo!”
…
What… was that?
Zelda’s gaze drifted from the book in her hand to the red tips of her knight’s ears. Did he just… sneeze?
“Bless you…?” She muttered to the air as she watched him tuck his chin to his chest. Was he embarrassed? Was her cavalier truly a human capable of experiencing emotions? Her eyes were glued to his face. A flush. A furrowed brow. And a glance off to the side.
And just as quick, the expression fell.
Aside from the red tinge on his cheeks, that is.
Zelda blinked and tore her gaze away from the boy’s visage, and— “Is that a cookbook?”
Her voice cut through the awkward silence like butter. She didn’t mean to say that out loud. But the boy gave her a meager nod in response. She hummed. So he had other interests aside from swinging swords at a straw dummy, and making her life miserable.
She ran her thumb down the leaves of a worn, dog-eared book in thought. Did he know how to cook? Who taught him? Did he even have the time? Was he allowed in the kitchens? She certainly wasn’t. Not after sneaking in the dead of night just to burn milk in the end.
Her hand hovered over the spine of one particular book. She gave it a quick perusal. A recipe book. For desserts.
A thought nagged at her mind. Would this help her cross the seemingly impossible rift between them? He probably liked cooking. She liked sweets. She had relatively mediocre experience with baking; as an exact science. Maybe this could be her chance to whittle away at his stoic wall. She shot a furtive glance his way.
The purple winged crossguard and amber gem winked at her.
And an antsy feeling churned in the pit of her stomach.
Zelda closed her eyes and breathed deeply. Fingers gripping at the leather bindings of the books in her grasp. Her feet led her to the shop’s counter, then she promptly dropped her pile on the countertop with a loud thump. There was no reason for her to get upset. She could turn this around.
“Ah, new pickings for Her Highness!” The Goron exclaimed, eyeing the towering volumes. “I’ve read these ones. It’s right up your alley, Princess.”
“Yes. I trust your taste, Gorko.” She scanned the cabinets behind him. “I was also wondering if you had any journals and ink in stock? I’ve run out, unfortunately.”
“I’m afraid not, Princess. But you could try the other stores in the area! I’m sure they’ll be able to provide.”
“Oh, is that so? Well, thank you. I suppose I could check.” A presence sidled up to her and slipped a cookbook next to her pile. She pouted. Was he expecting her to pay for him? I suppose there’s no harm done. Her hand reached down at the pouch on her belt. “How much for the whole lot?”
“Forty rupees, Your Highness.”
“Right. Here’s a—” A gloved hand slammed a purple rupee on the countertop. She blinked at its lustrous violet glowing facets.
“Ah, Mister Champion Sir. Would you like your change in greens or two blues?”
He held both his hands out, away from him and toward the Goron. Index and middle finger pointed straight out, a thumb between said fingers, resting on the middle’s knuckle, and the other fingers curled to the palm. He then whacked his hands together. Her voice said in a hushed tone, “...Keep. He wants you to keep it.”
The boy nodded. And she wondered if that was a small smile on his lips. Probably not… right?
“Most generous of you, Sir! Lemme go bag these up for ya.” The Goron beamed at the two of them before scooping the books in his large arm. Lumbering behind a curtained off area.
When she was sure that Gorko was out of ear shot, she tugged at her knight’s sleeve and snarled, “What’re you doing? I can pay for myself, you know.”
He blinked up at her with his impenetrable mask.
Zelda could feel her teeth grinding against her will. Despite towering over the boy (with a mere two inches but she’ll take small winnings), his eyes never failed to unnerve her. Paired with the cornflower blue tunic that she weaved and embroidered, his eyes were impossibly blue. They almost seemed fake. “Keep your money, Sir. Gorko may appreciate your generosity but I certainly don’t.”
Speak of the devil. The Goron ducked out of the curtained doorway. “Sorry for the wait! Wrapped the books all nice, and tied them up for ya.” He placed the hoard on the counter. Her knight reached for it before she could even blink.
She mustered a sweet smile and said, “Thank you again, Gorko. We’ll be going now. Have a pleasant day.”
“Thank you kindly, Princess.” He raised a big hand and waved the two goodbye as the door swung closed after them.
Zelda fixed the clasp of her cloak, and pulled the hood back on. Tassels swaying, and the gilded threads across her chest glittering in the late morning light. “Unfortunately for the both of us, he had no journals or ink in stock. So the day hasn’t ended just yet. But I’m sure the other merchants here have some.”
Her knight responded with a stare.
“Right.” She let out a long sigh. “Let’s be off then.”
Today was supposed to be her day. It was supposed to be a relaxing day. No meetings with her father. No kneeling on the cold hard floor for her devotions. No standing in freezing waters to pray to a lifeless statue. And certainly, no cavaliers dogging at her heels.
But, of course, not everything goes her way. Such was her luck.
So, Zelda will ruin his day just as much as he ruined hers. Turnabout was fairplay, after all.
She made sure to go to the shop that sold stationary on the other side of town from where Gorko’s was. A fifteen minute walk. Longer if it’s almost the lunch rush. Crowded streets with hungry folk. A different kind of battlefield, she assumed. No one would dare think of going against the tide of peckish Hylians.
But she was used to weaving through large crowds, untouched. All footwork, and twists. Like a dance of sorts. It was a skill the Sheikah trio taught her; she can be very persuasive if need be.
She risked shooting a glance behind her.
And there he was, keeping pace. Eyes still trained on her. She growled under her breath. Persistent little dog, are you?
Zelda decided to liven things up a little. And turned to an alleyway. Her boots splashing across the puddles of laundry water from the clothesline hanging over the narrow passageway. Heels clicking against cobblestone. She stopped at an intersection, cloak fluttering behind her, waiting for her knight.
He squeezed through the crowd and into the damp.
She smiled with a little too much teeth, “Keep up, hero.” And ran.
She knew these streets like the back of her hand. She wasn’t sure of his familiarity with the capital. But she was sure that he was a country bumpkin before becoming a knight in the Hyrulean army.
A knight with a lot of stamina.
She gritted her teeth and turned a corner. And another. Then another. Pushing her back against the cold brick wall, she paused for a moment, catching her breath and listening.
Her ears twitched at the sound of echoing footfalls.
A cat’s yowl.
A crash.
A grunt, then a pained hiss. More hurried footsteps.
Followed by heavy huffing.
…The noise went past her.
She grinned. Pumped a fist in the air, and stage-whispered, “Yes!” That was when a loose roof tile shingle fell and broke at her feet. “...What?”
Victory was short lived when someone landed on the ground next to her from above. She shrieked in alarm as familiar blue eyes glared at her. Mild vexation; another emotion she didn’t think she was privy to. Her heart skipped a beat. Whether from fear or something else, she wasn’t sure.
The masonry dug at her back as her knight cornered her. He was breathing heavily. His hair was a mess, messier than usual. Strands of it were sticking to his forehead and neck which were slick with sweat. Those cursed blue eyes locked on hers.
Zelda swallowed audibly.
And closed her eyes to avoid his stare. “Pardon the discourtesy, Sir.” She cleared her throat. “But I’m afraid you reek of sweat.” She peeked at his expression; a furrowed brow, and a miniscule frown.
A slight twitch of his head, and a flare of his nostrils. A confused pout.
She snorted. And covered her mouth with her hand. Don’t smile, you fool. You’re supposed to hate him. You’re supposed to be angry. She coughed. “Did you climb the roofs? Is that why a shingle almost hit my head?”
The boy stopped sniffing himself and nodded. Quickly looking down at the cracked roof tile on the ground, and kicking it pathetically away from her. Like it was going to gain sentience and take a stab at her. He looked at her with pitiable look, raised a closed fist, thumb sticking slightly above the index’s knuckle. And rotated his hand on his chest in a couple of clockwise motions. He was sorry, he seemed to say.
She let out a huff and said in the most haughty voice she could muster, “Yes, well, don’t climb on strangers' roofs. It’s weird.” Pushing herself off the wall, she trudged along the alleyway and out into the busy streets. “…The shop is just this way.”
And it still wasn't even lunch time yet.
He didn’t let her pay for the journal and inkwell. He just slapped a purple rupee on the man’s palm before she could take out her purse, grabbed the paperbag with the goods, and walked away. Back into their little alleyway rendezvous.
And she’d been trying to get her hands on at least one of the bags. Keyword: trying.
“I can carry that on my own.” She grumbled as he walked past her. “Hand it over, Sir.”
He held the items closer. Items that were rightfully hers.
She growled, “At the very least, let me help you.” She then made to swipe at the paperbag but was met with air. He was standing in front of her a moment ago but now he was to her right. Was that a sidestep? Did he just dodge her? She blinked curiously.
He blinked right back.
She squinted at the small quirk of his lips, then at the arm that held the bag, and lunged for it. She missed. Again. What was going on?
A soft mirthful sound bubbled out of his mouth.
Her eyes widened in shock. Was he laughing?
He tried to smother the noise and control the smile plastered on his face. But failed miserably. She had already seen it. He was laughing. She was trying so hard. And he was laughing.
Warmth spread across her cheeks. From anger, or embarrassment. A bit of both, perhaps. “How are you doing that?”
He had the audacity to shrug.
Shameless.
Zelda will get her answers. She was a researcher! Results through trial and error were things she does best. Practically second nature to her. She flexed her fingers and glared at him. Scrutinizing every detail. Every twitch. She’ll make him believe she’s aiming for the paperbag, then fake him out and grab the books instead. A feint. Yes. That should do the trick.
He looked at her hovering hand curiously. The ruse might work. The thought made her giddy. He’ll focus on this one hand, and maneuver out of the way, all the while her other hand will go for the grapple! An expert stratagem indeed, Zelda.
Now! She lunged at him again! This time for sure!
Her hand reached out as soon as he backpedaled away from her.
(It was a strange feeling. She felt like time was at a stand still, or at least, extremely slow. Her fingers curled open, markedly sluggish, like they were in a vat of molasses, while he was moving quite normally. Or maybe, he was moving much too fast for the normal eye to track. Lightning fast reflexes. That could also be a possibility. She might have to test this phenomenon out.)
For what seemed like an eternity, she managed to brush the leather of his belt. And yanked it with all her strength. This wasn’t her target.
He yelped in surprise. Their bodies collided in a loud thud.
“Ow.” She hissed, rubbing her throbbing nose gingerly with her free hand. She felt a puff of hot breath near her ear.
Then a low groan.
Her eyelids fluttered open to see her knight wincing in pain. There was a small bump on his forehead. Was her nose really that powerful? Did she discover a new weapon that can defeat Calamity Ganon?
She frowned.
Her nose felt weird. It kind of felt like she had the sniffles.
The boy gasped, clamping the paperbag under his armpit, before digging through the small pouch attached to his belt. What was he getting himself worked up about?
Zelda, then, felt a trickle of warm liquid above her upper lip. Oh. A nosebleed.
Her knight pulled out a handkerchief and hesitated, eyes darting up to look at her. She nodded absentmindedly. Still reeling from the collision (that she had a hand in.)
He dabbed at the blood carefully. Delicate, and meticulous. The boy held the cloth there for a moment.
She had half a mind to snap at him, let him know that she can hold the damn handkerchief on her own, thank you very much. But she’ll give him this. After all, her excuse was that she’s still a bit dizzy.
“Uh,” she muttered with nasal eloquence that suited her title of diplomat. “I think I’m okay now.”
He searched her eyes for a brief second, then nodded. Pulling away, he folded the cloth and stuffed it back in his pouch.
She sniffed. “Oh. You’re keeping it? It has my blood on it though. I’d say that’s highly unsanitary.”
He merely shrugged.
Gross and strange.
A loud rumbling sound echoed in their space. He pursed his lips and clutched at his stomach.
She couldn’t help the smile that plastered itself on her face. “I think it’s about time we had lunch, wouldn’t you agree?”
Castletown was known as a melting pot of all sorts of peoples, and their cultures. And that included Hyrule’s vast cuisine. Be it the healthy, vegetable-filled dishes of Kakariko, or the mouthwatering roasts of meat skewers and mushrooms of Gerudo. The town had it all.
As soon as Zelda led her cavalier to the streets, the overwhelming scent of spices assaulted her nose. (She was thankful that she still had her sense of smell.) Stalls of different kinds of food lined the thoroughfare. It made her almost drool.
She turned to her knight and asked, “So, what would you like to eat? I’ll be paying this time.”
The boy shook his head.
“I insist, Sir. I’m quite hungry as well.”
He let out a soft sigh, and eyed the stalls and restaurants.
He sure was taking his sweet time. Zelda was getting hungrier by the minute. “Made up your mind yet?”
He nodded and led her to a place that served stir fry and the like. The smell of pepper that wafted in the air almost made her sneeze. The hawker by the entrance beamed at them and waved them over.
“Oh! Your Highness, welcome, welcome!” The lady’s eyes drifted to the boy beside her. Zelda bit the inside of her cheek. Here we go. “And you’ve brought the Hylian Champion with you! What a pleasure.”
Zelda flashed a grin and said, “The pleasure is all ours. It’s not everyday that we get to support local businesses such as yours.” She waved over to her knight and placed a dainty hand on his shoulder. “Sir Link and I decided to try it out. Actually, what do you recommend we get?”
The lady server pulled out a pamphlet of sorts from her apron—a menu, Zelda guessed—and handed it over. “Oh, I recommend the, uhm, oh, let’s see here—the gourmet poultry pilaf. Folks say it’s very good.”
Zelda scanned the pamphlet and mused. Ah… the most expensive thing on the list. Typical. Just because I’m royalty doesn’t mean I have the whole treasury in my hands. Which was funny, because just this morning she was planning a heist just to get the boy at her side to leave her alone.
She nudged him with her elbow. “What do you think, Sir? Would you like that one or would you prefer something else?”
He licked his lips and pointed at a much higher point on the paper.
“Spicy meat and seafood fry?”
A nod.
The server deflated. “Oh, uh, are you sure?”
Another, more decisive nod.
Zelda smothered the snort that threatened to come out, with a well timed cough. “Well, that’s settled then. We’ll have that.”
The server bowed. “Of course, Your Highness. Right this way please.”
As soon as they were ushered to a private corner, her cavalier companion slouched and slumped at his seat across from her. She could barely hear the low groan rumbling in his throat.
“Are you tired?”
He answered by looking down at the table.
She scoffed. So much for conversation.
One of the servers dropped off a plate of warm, fresh-out-of-the-oven wheat bread, and a knob of butter to slather it with, as an appetizer. The boy perked up like a dog being shown a treat.
She waved him off. “You can have it if you’d like.”
Zelda watched in mild horror—slight fascination—as he scarfed the thing down in mere seconds.
“You practically inhaled it. Were you that hungry?”
He scratched at his neck and avoided eye contact. Now he’s acting sheepish?
She was about to say something unnecessarily mean when the waitress placed a steaming plate in between the two of them. Their surf and turf entree. Spicy meat and seafood fry. “Here you go, Princess,” she announced. “Sir. Enjoy your meal.”
Zelda had forgotten whatever mean thing she was going to say and locked her eyes with the boy seated across from her. He stared back, licking his lips, and waited with bated breath. Eyes flicking from her to the filleted Hyrule bass belly; the largest part of the dish. She gnawed at her lip.
“You wouldn’t mind if I got the bass, would you?” She smiled sweetly. And paired it with honeyed words, and a twirl of her hair. “I’m sure you’d be alright with just the pork steak, and the bird leg. And,” she glanced at the plate, “whatever the leafy green is. And you can have the tomato too.” Ugh. Was that a green bell pepper? “And the green bell pepper.”
He blinked slowly at her. She could pinpoint the moment his heart—or perhaps more appropriately, his stomach—sunk.
“…What I’m saying is that as your sovereign, I order you to give me the fish.” Yes, Zelda was using the royalty card. She was not above pulling rank on her knight.
Without a word, he rotated the plate so that the fillet was facing her side of the table.
She grinned. “Why, thank you, Sir Knight.”
He placed the fish carefully onto her plate. He didn’t have to do that, she could’ve prepared her own—wait, what was he doing?
“Uhm, I don’t want the tomato.”
He gave her a look that she couldn’t quite place. And tossed some of the mixed greens next to the fish. Was this some kind of sick joke? Was he having a laugh?
“I just said that I don’t want these. What’re you playing at?” Zelda held her cutlery close. She might not know when it’ll come in handy. “Are they poisoned?” Was this his form of petty revenge?
The boy stared at her, and without breaking eye contact, stabbed a forkful of leaf and shoved it in his mouth. And chewed. Like the cows in the ranch. He then raised his eyebrows expectantly.
She clicked her tongue. “Fine. I’ll eat the damned vegetable.”
He nodded triumphantly. And continued eating his meal.
Zelda thought that this version of the dish was milder than the one she was served in the castle. It didn’t have that kick to it. It had the spiciness of a black peppercorn. Which wasn’t much, really. Still, it was tasty enough.
A cough made her stop chewing.
She looked up in alarm. And gulped. Her companion was red in the face, and coughing uncontrollably. Tears formed at the corners of his eyes. Sweat dripped from his forehead.
Zelda was worried. “Are… are you okay, Link? Are you choking?!”
The boy waved his hand over his mouth. Panting. Then grabbed the glass of water and chugged it down.
Oh… it was too spicy for him. “You know, water makes the spiciness worse.”
His face blanched with horror. Eyes widening in fear.
If she laughed, she would’ve felt bad. “I’ll order you some milk.”
A few agonizing moments later, and her knight was sipping on a cold cup of LonLon milk, all the while glaring at the gnawed bone sitting on his plate. He was the one who picked this dish. As far as she’s concerned, she was in no way liable for the mess he created. Or for the state his tongue was in because of a chili pepper assault.
“Dairy has this protein called casein that’s lipophilic—fat-loving. Which means that it acts as a detergent on capsaicin—the thing that gives peppers their ‘heat’—which is fat-soluble. It’s the best way to cool down your mouth.” Zelda pushed the slice of tomato around her plate, busying herself with sharing knowledge instead of having to eat the awful fruit-not-vegetable. “Did you know? Birds can’t taste spicy food. Which makes me wonder if the Rito can’t either… I’ll have to ask Revali some time.”
She looked up at the sweaty boy nursing his flaring tongue, and was surprised to see him listening intently. Most people who had the honor of hearing her ramble usually make up an excuse to leave halfway.
But no, Link seemed to be actually interested in her nonsense.
A warmth bloomed in her chest.
She glanced away from his intense stare, and stabbed the innocent tomato on her plate. “This dish is actually a favorite of my father’s—the king—so I suppose I was used to something that had a little more… kick to it?” A giggle bubbled out of her lips. “I was surprised that you couldn’t handle the spiciness. It was very mild, in my opinion.”
A faint chuckle caught her attention.
The boy hid his grin behind the cup of milk. But try as he might, he couldn’t begin to hide the red tips of his ears.
That’s the third time now that he’d broken his stoic facade in front of her. Or was it the fourth? She honestly wasn’t counting that hard.
“Do you want dessert?” Zelda asked, surprised at herself. “There’s this bakery that sells the best fruitcake. And I was wondering if you’d mind a little detour before we go back to the castle?”
Link blinked at her. Eyes glittering with hope. An audible gulp.
Was the renowned Hylian champion a glutton? Zelda snickered at the quick darting of his tongue over his lips. “My treat, of course.” She added.
Link pushed his seat, slung his baldric over his shoulder, and brushed off his tunic before picking up their stuff from under the table, eager to leave.
“Oh, let me help.” She moved to grab one of the items. He held them away from her, and shook his head. She sighed, “Suit yourself, Sir.”
They exited the pub after paying for their meal, and went on their way. Link led her back to the town square, where the fountain stood tall. He kept glancing back at her. Wary that maybe she’ll make a run for it, perhaps. She scoffed.
“I’m not going anywhere, Link.” She crossed her arms. “Besides, I don’t want you climbing onto roofs again. We’ll get in trouble.” Well, you will. I have diplomatic immunity.
He slowed his pace and walked beside her. Shoulder to shoulder. So close that their hands tended to brush together with every swing. Her fingers twitched at the friction; a spark, a vague tingle. She had to close her fist tight to stop the sensation.
“You’ve been to the bakery then, I presume?”
He nodded as the two of them rounded a corner. And there, across the street, was a window lined with pastries. The whiff of freshly baked bread sent waves of comfort to her.
Zelda eyed the various baked goods lined up in the glass display. There were your usual artisan breads, a few loaves, and other sweet and savory delicacies. She smiled down at a cupcake made to look like a guardian. And one that was braided to form a crown. …Maybe she could buy a croissant for her father. Perhaps that would assuage his worries about her sealing power. Like that would work. She sneered at her reflection.
Link’s reflection stood next to hers, eyes trained on her. A minuscule frown tugging at his lips.
She cleared her throat, “Shall we go in, then?”
The boy crammed the paper bags under his arm, and opened the door for her. Complete with an obnoxious flourish.
She snorted and allowed him to usher her inside. She had half a mind to think that maybe, just maybe, he was trying to make her feel better. But that’s preposterous. Utterly absurd.
A woman behind the counter greeted them with a big smile. “Ah! Welcome, Your Highness. Oh, and Sir Link’s with you.”
Her knight waved a hand.
“Yes, he’s my escort for the day.” And for who knows how long.
“That’s nice. Well, what can I get for you on this fine day?” She pulled out a pair of tongs, and clicked them together. “We have some bread fresh out of the oven!”
“I was hoping for a slice of fruit cake but…” Zelda frowned at the lack of cake in the display.
The woman sagged. “Yes, unfortunately it’s been sold out. Last slice was bought a few minutes ago. Terribly sorry, Princess.”
Zelda gnawed at her lip, squinting at the array of pastries in front of her. Maybe she’ll settle for an eclair or something. She was about to point to a chocolate pastry when her knight leaned over the counter, hand up to sign.
Her eyes locked at the swift letters. Wildberry… crepe…? She didn’t even know they sold those here.
The woman smiled and nodded at the boy. “How many?”
The boy held up three fingers.
“Three?” Zelda said, baffled.
The woman chuckled. “I should’ve known. Three wildberry crepes coming right up!” She turned to yell over her shoulder. “Hey Pumm!!”
“Dammit, Piper! What d’you want?!”
“We got customers, ya bastard! Three wildberry crepes!” She turned to face the two of them again, with a smile plastered on her face. “Your orders will be here in a few minutes.”
Zelda blinked a couple of times. Before asking, “You understood Link?” She thought it best not to mention the shouting.
Piper beamed. “I should hope so. My son, Gully, is hard of hearing. I had to learn for my boy, Your Highness. And besides,” she tilted her head towards Link, “this guy is a favorite customer. Comes here almost every night to buy the leftovers for cheap.”
The boy looked away from her pointed gaze to stare at the shelf on the far side of the bakery.
Zelda grinned. “Is that so?”
“Mmhm! He even ordered a whole fruit cake in advance for—”
Link coughed loudly into his fist. Wide eyed panic dancing across his eyes. She’d never seen him so… embarrassed before. His whole face is flushed!
“Uh, oops. I thought she knew.”
He shook his head slightly.
Zelda cocked a brow. “Knew what?”
Piper waved a hand. “Oh, it’s nothing you should worry about, Your Highness. The crepes will be done soon, why don’t the two of you take a seat?” She pointed outside the large window. “There’s a free table just outside.”
Link straightened up and grabbed Zelda by the hand, pulling her out of the bakery and into the open. Her eyes were glued to their clasped hands. She could feel blood rushing to her head.
This was uncalled for! Inappropriate behaviour! You shouldn’t just grab the princess without her permission! What if someone sees?!
Her eyes darted here and there, scanning the surrounding area. The street they were in was quiet. The only noise was coming from the central square. Distant laughter, and chatter, and burbling water from the large fountain.
They were safe.
Still, Zelda tugged her hand away. The warmth of his gloved hand practically scalded her bare skin.
Link looked down, and pursed his lips.
She felt her heart sink. She hated the feeling. So she focused on glaring at her reflection on the window.
Metal grinding on stone screeched at her ears. She winced and turned to Link, who pulled on the chair for her to sit on. The paper bags neatly piled together on one side of the table. His side.
He looked up at her, then down at the chair. Then back up.
“That’s not necessary, you know.” She huffed haughtily, before sitting down. “…But thank you.”
He scurried over to his side, chair screeching. The sound rattled and hurt her teeth.
“Ugh, lift the chair. Don’t drag it.” She groaned, pinching the bridge of nose in irritation.
The chair scraped the cobblestone again.
Now he’s just doing it on purpose.
The bakery door flew open, with Piper holding three plates precariously balanced on her arm. “Three wildberry crepes for Her Highness, and her champion.” She set one plate in front of her. A perfect crepe full of wildberries and cream. Her favorite kind.
She placed the other two in front of her knight.
Because, of course, he ordered two for himself.
“Enjoy.” She smiled knowingly at Link, who glanced at Zelda. Who gave him a perplexed look.
And they were left alone.
Zelda watched as her knight rolled one of his crepes up. Folding it. Then stabbing it with his fork.
He wasn’t going to eat the thing whole, right?
Goddess, it was like watching a snake unhinge its jaw to eat its prey. He looked like a chipmunk with its cheeks stuffed with acorns. After watching him gobble various things—edible or not—down for the time she’s known him, this was only mildly horrifying.
She’d seen him eat rocks before. Maybe she should teach him how to forage for mushrooms when they’re out in the fields next time.
Link gulped and was about to go for his second, when he noticed her perturbed staring. He blushed and scratched his cheek. There was a little bit of cream on the corner of his mouth. (Zelda wanted to lick it. But she will keep that horrid and incredibly inappropriate thought to herself.)
Zelda picked up the fork and knife, and slowly cut a piece of her crepe. “I wasn’t aware they had crepes on the menu.” She lifted her fork up to her lips. It was sweet. And light. She hummed in delight. “This could be my go-to when the fruitcake isn’t available.”
Her eyes wandered back to the cream staining his lips. Stop. Think of something else, you daft idiot. She plucked a wildberry from her crepe and popped it in her mouth. Making a show of licking her fingers clean. And at the corner of her eye, she could see her knight watching her every move.
With those eyes if his.
You are treading on dangerous grounds, Zelda. The rational part of her mind warned. Do not tempt scandal.
So she cleared her throat and said, “Sir Link, you have cream on your mouth.” A finger to her lip. “Right here.”
His eyes fluttered, and his tongue darted out to wet his lips. He decided to eat his second crepe slowly this time.
Zelda, in turn, gnashed her teeth at a forkful of crepe.
Despite him chewing slower, he still ate considerably faster than her.
When she was almost halfway done with the very thin pancake, she handed it to Link, who was confused, but took it eagerly anyway. “You kept looking at it and it was getting annoying,” was her likely excuse.
The boy then shoved the whole thing in his mouth. Again. It’s a wonder that he hadn’t choked on it. (It was still strangely fascinating to witness. Was his throat a vacuum?)
She dusted off her hands and looked at the towering fortress silhouetted by the orange sky. She had a whole day planned. But all that was thrown out the window the moment Impa told her that her appointed knight was to be her escort.
Now that her rather late lunch/early dinner was over, she was disappointed that her day was coming to an end. “I suppose we should head back.”
Link pushed his chair, the sound grating on her ears, and brushed off his tunic.
Zelda stood and rummaged through her pouch for some rupees when her knight shoved the paper bag at her face.
“What the—? You want me to carry this now?” She asked incredulously, taking the item in her hands. He nodded with renewed fervor. Then curled his fingers around her wrist. Her eyes squinted at the gesture. “Link, just what is it you’re planning on—ah, hey! We haven’t even paid yet!”
The boy tugged her along in a light jog. Into the back alleys and away from prying eyes.
It made her slightly nervous.
“Uhm, where on earth are you taking me?”
He pulled her around a corner, motioned for her to stay, before pulling out an apple from his bottomless pouch. And whistled.
…Does he always carry food with him?
He crouched and tossed the apple a couple of feet away.
And they waited.
And waited.
She was getting impatient. “What are we even—”
She could hear the soft patter of feet.
Zelda gasped as a dark Hylian retriever popped his head out of one of the windows, and jumped out. Its tail wagged as it approached the two of them. Sniffing the apple at their feet.
She felt a hand tug at hers. Lowering herself, she knelt next to Link and whispered, “Whose dog is this?”
He shrugged.
She watched the dog crunch on the apple happily, eyes wide in amusement. When the dog gulped the last remaining bits of fruit, it barked at them. “Oh!”
It lowered its front to the ground, tail up in the air wagging in glee. And barked again.
“I think it’s trying to tell us something.”
The dog made a small borf noise and padded away. Head tilting to the side as it waited for the two.
“Does it want us to follow?” Link grinned at Zelda and pulled her to her feet. With the dog leading the way, they jogged through the alleys hand in hand. Before coming out of the east end of Castletown.
The Hylian retriever stopped below a tree.
Zelda pulled her hand out of Link’s grasp to scratch the dog behind the ears. “What did you find, little one?”
It barked, ran around in tight circles, and scratched on the dirt below them. Link crouched down, pulling a small knife from his pouch of holding, and dug through the dirt. There was a small clang when the knife’s blade hit something hard.
The two of them looked at each other.
“Is that what I think it is?”
The dog answered with another loud bark.
Link dug around it, pushing it loose with his knife. He picked the small box up and brushed the dirt off.
“Are we allowed to take this?” Zelda asked their canine friend.
It yipped.
She looked down at her knight and nodded. “If it insists.”
Link pried the lid open with the blade.
Sitting in the middle of a plush lined box was a large diamond, cut to perfection. Its facets glistening, casting a dazzling light that reflects Zelda’s beaming smile. “You certainly led us to a treasure hunt, didn’t you, little one?” She carefully picked the gemstone, lifting it up to the sunset. “This is quite a find, I must say. Are you sure we can keep this?”
The dog sniffed her hand and licked it approvingly. She giggled.
“How awfully kind of you.” She said, running her fingers through its fur. “We’ll be sure to keep it safe. Right, Sir Link?” She turned to face the boy, whose eyes were trained on her this whole time. A soft—almost adoring—look on his face.
She closed her eyes to avoid it.
“I think we really should get going though. We have an early day tomorrow.”
Link wiped his dirty hands on his trousers and stood up.
She looked down at the shining jewel in her hand. “…I think you should keep this.” She handed it over to the boy. “To commemorate this treasure hunt. Wouldn’t you agree, little one?”
The dog barked in agreement.
Her knight took the gleaming gemstone reluctantly and pocketed it.
“Now you have a trinket of your own. Shall we get going then?” Zelda started walking back toward the town proper, their dog friend in tow. “Oh, and we need to go back to the bakery to pay for the crepes. We wouldn’t want to be branded as dine and dash-ers. Or whatever they’re called.”
She could’ve sworn that her cavalier laughed.
Zelda hadn’t noticed how much her feet ached from all the walking and running around until she slumped down on her chaise longue. And she even wore her comfy boots.
“You can just drop the books off on my desk.” She tugged at the knot.
Link shuffled in her chambers, wary, like he’d be reprimanded just by coming into his charge’s bedroom. Even with her permission.
She sighed, standing up and walking to her desk to set the many papers aside. “No one’s here besides me, Sir. You’re allowed in.”
His footfalls thudded against the stone, and he placed their hoard of the day on the space she cleared up. Tearing the wrapping apart, and laying the books, and her newly acquired journal out onto the table.
“Oh, and before I forget—here.” Zelda handed over the two recipe books from her pile. The boy looked at them curiously. “The other one’s from me. Consider it a thank you gift.”
Link blinked up at her. Eyes that were normally so steely, softened.
“I-I don’t think you could count it as a gift though,” she blabbed. “Since you paid for it.” Zelda could feel her face flare up. “But I picked it out for you. So…” she trailed off.
He offered her a ghost of a smile, and lifted a flat hand up to his chin, palm facing in. Moved the hand forward, and down in her direction. “Thank you.”
She beamed. Her cheeks hurt. “You’re welcome, Link.”
He ducked his head down and scratched the back of his neck. A nervous, and shy gesture of his that she discovered just recently.
“I suppose this is it for the day. Thank you for accompanying me.” Even though I feel like Impa forced you to do this. The sly woman.
He offered her a nod, slipping a hand into his pocket before taking hers in his. He’s been doing it so casually this entire time. It was a nice change of pace. She liked it, but she would never admit that to him.
Zelda felt a familiar weight on her palm. “The diamond? But this is—”
He closed her fist over the gem.
“…Are you sure you want me to keep it?”
A nod.
She held it close to her chest. “Then I shall treasure it always.”
He smiled.
And with that, he bowed and bid her goodnight, closing the oak doors of her chambers shut. She knew that he’d be just outside, standing guard as always. Ever since he was appointed as her royal escort.
It’ll take her some time to fully accept that. To remember that he’s her counterpart in all of this. Her future partner in the coming battle.
Baby steps, Zelda. She thought, her thumb running across the smooth surfaces of the diamond.
After all, progress doesn’t happen overnight.