Zelda sucks in a shocked breath as the laces on her stays are pulled tight. Her lady-in-waiting gives her an apologetic glance but her late arrival is clearly a point of annoyance. After trying to drag out her excursion, hoping that this evening's reception would continue in her absence, guilt had driven her back towards the castle. As she is redressed following a hurried bath, Zelda questions whether suffocation is a worthy punishment for tardiness.
Her attendant loosens the laces and Zelda takes the opportunity to sigh.
Zelda's second lady-in-waiting, Cesil, the younger of the pair, moves across the room to fetch her kirtle. "Are you excited for this evening, Your Highness?" she asks.
"I'm sure it is going to be a very pleasant evening for everyone," Zelda answers, as the gown slips over her head. She avoids the sympathetic look Oma, Cesil's superior, gives her as she resurfaces.
"Will there be dancing, Ma'am?" Cesil presses further. Zelda is sure the girl means well, but she still lacked Oma's better judgement and could be rather oblivious.
Once in her outer garments Zelda sits so Oma can brush through her hair. "I believe so." The rough bristles against her scalp are soothing and aid in unwinding the tight coil of anxiety presently sat in her lower stomach.
Cesil clasps her hands at her chest and sighs theatrically, garnering her a disapproving tut from Oma. Zelda finds herself smiling however, when she catches Cesil's coy grin. Maybe she was less oblivious than Zelda gave her credit.
Her Father had taken the liberty of organisation, leaving Zelda mostly unaware of what to expect. From what she had heard the event was to be an informal affair, so given the right opportunity she might be persuaded to indulge. Even she had to admit dancing could be a pleasant enough way to spend an evening.
Cesil waits for Oma to step away before bending in front of Zelda and whispering, "Will Sir Link also be attending?"
Zelda nods, although she can't fathom the importance of the question, perhaps because to her the answer felt obvious. Nor did she understand the relevance of it in the context of the conversation for that matter.
Confusing Zelda further, Cesil dissolves into a fit of giggles but a scathing glare from Oma quickly silences her.
In a show of solidarity Zelda flashes another brief smile up at Cesil. She might not understand what she finds quite so funny, but she appreciates Cesil's good natured attempts at lifting her spirit.
Oma crosses the room back towards the two of them, now cradling the crown princess' tiara in her hands. In the mirror adjacent to her, Zelda watches Oma delicately place the tiara atop her head. The weight of it bleeds from the base of her skull and down her spine before pooling beneath her breast bone.
A knock at the door pulls Zelda away from the girl in the mirror. "You may enter."
The gentle drill of Link's knuckles against her door sounds almost exactly the same each time, three short taps cushioned by the leather of his gloves. At first Zelda had used this observation to escape down the stairs besides her study, in the hope that she could prolong the last few moments of her precious solitude.
But now, as he steps through the door, the compulsion to flee is absent, replaced by a curious warmth that spreads from her chest and along her extremities. Simply the joy that comes with a correct hypothesis, she assures herself.
Since they parted, Link has changed into a formal uniform similar in tailoring to that of the Royal Guards, including the signature hat and boots.The embroidery at a glance seems to differ slightly however, and more notably the standard blue fabric of the garments have been replaced to resemble that of Link's champion tunic.
Zelda assumes that he had the clothes made for the occasion as she doesn't recognise them. His champion tunic was hardly pedestrian, she had personally insured that, but if she was being reasonable he may have looked underdressed in it at tonight's gathering. Her Father had made a point of inviting Link as a guest after all, rather than as her personal escort. Even still, the 'Sword that Seals the Darkness' hangs against his back.
Although the construction of the garments are impeccable and she can't help but admire how well he wears them, there is something uncanny about how sterilised he looks.
The distant chime of a clock brings Zelda out from her musings. "We'd best be off," she says to Link.
Zelda thanks both Oma and Cesil for their service before making her way out into the cold corridors of the castle with Link close behind. As they march in the direction of the dining hall, her body urges her to fill the silence between them but the low hum of the crowd awaiting their arrival keeps her jaw locked shut.
They turn a corner to find Impa pacing outside the doors to the hall. Her concern breaks into a relieved smile, "I was starting to think you weren't coming."
Impa moves quickly to Zelda's side, unrestricted by the long traditional gown she is wearing, despite how impractical it may appear compared to her usual attire. She looks beautiful and a great deal like her mother, the Sheikah Clan's current chief, but Zelda doesn't voice either of these thoughts.
"Unfortunately there was no escaping," she says instead.
Taking the Princess' hands in her own, Impa gently squeezes them. The tender gesture tells Zelda that Impa empathises with her plight. "We'd best not keep His Majesty waiting any longer," she says, but her words don't match the pained expression on her face. If Zelda was to refuse, would Impa personally usher her from the castle? Now is not the appropriate time to test that particular theory, she decides. Best saved for a more dire situation.
"Yes, of course."
Impa's grip tightens.
"I'll be alright," Zelda insists, with a weak smile.
Impa relents, giving Zelda's hands one final squeeze before releasing them and returning to the hall. This time it feels like an apology.
A quiet falls over the crowd as Zelda and Link enter, but the sound of her pulse drowns out the Master of Ceremonies announcing their arrival. Zelda's face stretches into a well rehearsed smile addressing the onlookers, as her feet carry her into the room.
Impa had only been a few seconds ahead of them, but the glaring light from the chandeliers blinds Zelda as she searches for her. The assembly blur into a vertiginous mass with only her Father, in the midst of greeting his subjects, standing out against the cacophony.
"Your Majesty?" in her disorientation, Zelda hadn't heard the Zora Princess' approach.
"Good Evening Mipha. Forgive me, you'll have to repeat yourself," Zelda confesses. Mipha and Link share a concerned look over her shoulder. Laughing awkwardly, Zelda fans the space between them with her hand, in an effort to dispel their worry from the air.
Mipha's eyes soften as they focus back on Zelda, "I was just saying that the other Champions and I have been waiting for you both." Mipha may be habitually patient by nature, but still Zelda appreciates it regardless.
Briefly looking in the direction of the King, Zelda withholds a sigh. "I best go and join my Father..." She moves to stand beside Mipha, positioning Link in front of them; he nervously shifts his weight from one foot to the other while under the gaze of both princesses. "But Link, perhaps you should go with Mipha and enjoy the evening?"
