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Summary
Link didn't often consider himself to be a jealous person. But when Zelda ran to wrap her arms tightly around the court poet's neck, something tightened in Link's chest, bitter and blistering. He wanted to be the one to make her laugh, to hold her that close. He wanted her to run to see him, not some lyricist with honeyed words meant to lure her in. And he was going to make sure that the next time she ran to the court poet, she was thinking of Link.