That’s it, I think. I’m out of here.

It’s the fifteenth evening I spend in Marcastle. I came back yesterday from Minish, with two extremely amused politicians, who have not yet ceased to remind me the dessert episode, to my complete and utter humiliation.

On top of everything, I found out upon my return that all the negative rumours that have been and still are being spread around originate from one person: Veran Black, a nasty, witch-like bitch from Labrynna. She seems to have a personal vendetta against me, though I can’t figure out why.

Anyway, somehow she has gotten wind of my cream-face moment in Minish, so today, it’s all over the newspapers: ‘Future Queen Has Sleep Disorder’ or ‘Sleeping Beauty: A Reality’, and so on.

As a result, I have been unable to do anything productive because I haven’t been able to stop crying in humiliation. Not even Kotake has managed to get me out of bed all day, and it’s not that she hasn’t tried everything. The day has gone by and I have refused to leave my room or listen to anyone. Some might say it’s childish, but frankly I don’t care.

I’m going back home. I’ve been waiting for everyone to just go back into their rooms to sleep, so that I can take my secretly prepared backpack and leave with the barest essentials.

By barest essentials, I mean everything that was mine since the beginning and that they haven’t provided for me. I’m a coward, but I’m not a lousy crook. At least when they find out I’m gone, they won’t want to arrest me for theft of public property or something. Maybe then they’ll leave me alone.

I take out a small note that I wrote on one of the pages of my Fairy notebook, and I re-read it. It says the strict necessary. I can’t pretend I’m good anymore. I can’t do this to the people. I’m sorry. I wish I had been good enough. All these words that tug at my heart and make me feel extremely miserable.

I even wrote a separate note for Link, telling him that I couldn’t bring myself to face him or tell him I couldn’t manage.

That’s right, I haven’t told anyone. No one knows I’m leaving. I’ll just vanish and nobody will find me again. Well, I’ll have to find a secure place to stay other than Anju’s house from now on, since it’s the first place they’ll think of looking at.

But that’s a minor problem. My priority is to get out of this palace and leave Marcastle before morning.

That way, I won’t have to see Link’s disappointment when I tell him that I’m backing out. He’ll find out on his own, tomorrow morning, on the last day of my decision period, and by that time I’ll be on the speed train with my tiny savings, heading south to Lakeside.

I don’t know how they’ll tell the people. They’ll probably improvise a terrible illness and find someone else to stop Ganondorf.

I won’t blame them for being upset with me, but I can’t do this. I can’t pretend I know what I’m doing. I can’t take the reins of a country without knowing what I’m doing. That would be unfair for the people. No one can force me to hurt the country like this. My disappearance will harm them less.

It’s eleven at night. I hear Link enter his room next door. I wait, with my breath held in, feeling my heart pound as he moves around the room. I take my bag and move it next to the door, and I open my oiled door carefully, waiting to see if his lights are going to go out from under his door.

At eleven twenty, Link flicks his lights out.

With a relieved sigh, I grab my bag and shoulder it as silently as possible, then make my way down the hallway, thanking the fact that it’s carpeted. It muffles my footfalls, and I make it to the stairs unnoticed.

I’m staring into the pitch darkness of the stairwell. My eyes look back at my gaping door and Link’s shut one, and I think, with a bit of sadness, an apologetic farewell.

With that, I hurry down the steps as silently as possible. I know that not everyone in this palace will be asleep. I have to slip out as quietly and inconspicuously as I can, so that they don’t sound the alarm until it’s too late.

By some miracle, I reach the lobby without encountering anyone.

Because the echoing silence is so deep and deafening, I can’t help but start a mile into the air when I hear a set of casual footsteps. They sound confident enough, and not at all careful about being quiet. Accordingly, an amused voice asks me, “Now, where do you think you’re going?”

With incredible dread and extreme defeat, I prepare to be berated for trying to escape. I rack my brain for excuses, but then I make out Ralph Ambi, leaning against the doors of the Gold Ballroom. I can hardly see him in the obscurity, but I can’t mistake his tone.

“Trying to head out for a night on the town?” Ralph asks, and I gulp down my fear as best as I can. His tone becomes leering, “Or something a bit more drastic?”

“Um, well…”

“I could see this coming miles away, what with the insecurity, the refusal to get involved into too many things…” He’s way sharper than I’d given him credit for. Crud. “The hiding all day because of what is merely a bug on a windshield… You’re running away.” He pauses before asking, “Why didn’t you ask your bodyguard to accompany you?”

I realise he’s making a bit fun of me.

“Bodyguards call more attention,” I say, a bit aggressively, I’ll admit.

“Very true,” Ralph admits with a nod, clearly unbothered by my tension. “Well, guess there’s no helping it, then. I’m offering myself as an undercover bodyguard. You never know what might happen, and besides, I wouldn’t forgive myself for leaving a pretty damsel alone in the big city.”

“That’s very kind of you,” I assure him, wishing to throttle him for that sarcasm he keeps demonstrating, “but I promise I’ll be just―”

“I insist,” Ralph cuts in severely.

He moves so I can see his face better in the bluish night. His features are less cast in shadow than they used to be, and I see that they're pulled into a warning frown. That’s when I realise he’s not giving me a choice.

That’s also how I end up half an hour later inside the VIP lounge of Grave Yard, Marcastle’s hippest club, the one people kill to be a member of. And I don’t even want to be here.

The Grave Yard lounge is a large loft with booming music, a packed dance floor, intimate tables, extremely cool lighting, a chic décor, sophisticated members, and the biggest drinks counter I have ever seen. Don’t get me wrong. I’ve seen lots of bottles before: I used to work in Talon Ranch’s place, after all.

Ralph leads me to the bar and says, “Have one on me.”

I glance around, realising I have to find a subtle way of foxing and abandoning him. There are enough people that I could get lost in the crowd, though it’s not said I could escape as easily. There are guards keeping tabs on everyone and everything. Plus, unfortunately for me, Ralph has been far less daft than I thought he’d be. He knows what I’m up to, and consequently, he’s been keeping a tight eye on me for the past half hour.

“A Shaker with crushed ice,” I say to the bartender, to humour my abductor. But then I turn to Ralph and ask, “Look, this is stupid, what exactly do you want?”

Ralph is already sipping his own drink, looking at me with mild detachment. “You’re chickening out,” he says.

I roll my eyes and focus on the Shaker that the bartender just presented me with. The colour is still as beautiful, and it’s soothing my frazzled nerves. “You said yourself that it’s not surprising. So why?”

Ralph shrugs. “I just think it’s a pity and I wanted to give you a farewell party.” He raises his glass. It’s a dark blue colour. Toasting me in silence, he drinks it carefully, deliberately. His bright green eyes haven’t left my face, and some of his reddish brown hair is falling into them. I’ll admit having a kind of cute guy looking at me so intently contributes to making me feel warm.

He puts his drink on the counter slowly then asks, “You thinking of anywhere to go? They’ll be looking for you.”

Don’t give him openings. Even maniacs can be cute.

“Not really.” I try my Shaker. It’s yummy and icy cold.

“Not really?” Ralph grins handsomely. “That’s reassuring.”

“It’s none of your business.”

Ralph doesn’t look offended by my acidic tone. Casually, he says, leaning against the counter and surveying the room, with his drink held loosely in his hand, “I’m just concerned, that’s all.” He sounds honest enough. “To be quite frank, I think the only one who thinks you can’t do it is yourself. Everyone else seems to have faith.”

“Everyone else,” I grumble, “needs me to keep someone from getting the spot. I’m not all special. Other people could do the job better than me.”

Ralph shrugs. “I’m afraid I can’t agree with that statement.” He takes another relaxed sip of his dark blue drink.

“I don’t care.” I almost slam my drink on the counter and ask, harshly, “Can I go now?”

Ralph examines me, ignoring my obvious rancour. Then, casually, he says, “Not until you’ve spared me a dance. I never have time for fun back home. I’ve been missing good old Hyrulian parties.” He downs his whole drink then offers me his arm.

I look at the dance floor, where people are gyrating and apparently having a great time. Most of them look drunk and sweaty. And I look back at Ralph’s good-looking face, and his laid-back, rather harmless looking stance, and I think, oh, fuck this.

Reluctantly, I accept his offer, and he looks glad enough to be able to lead me to the dance floor. He’s too… Well, he’s not for me, I think. He doesn’t seem to acknowledge or appreciate much of what I say. He’s cute, and he’s got a style, but I can’t imagine him as a boyfriend.

That’s why I don’t stray too close to him on the dance floor. He seems to respect it. He just keeps off all the other guys who, in their drunken stupor, seem to think of me as a big fondling toy. I guess that’s one thing to be grateful for, at least.

We dance a couple of songs. It’s bit awkward, I’ll say, considering that he foiled my escape plans, and that he’s a Lord of Labrynna and that I could have been queen of Hyrule and we’re basically dancing in a club where the elite of society gathers and at the moment, the elite of society is getting grinded by the rest of the elite of society and…

A hand suddenly grabs my sleeve, and I whirl to stare open-mouthed at Aryll Forester, who clearly has had more drinks than me. She’s flushed and way happier than me, too.

“Zelda?” She asks in a slur. Wow, how many drinks has she had, anyway? “Ish that you? Oh my Din, what are you doing here?”

“Aryll,” I exclaim, grabbing her arms to keep her steady and to keep her from falling off her feet. “What the heck are you doing here?”

Aryll just smiles a bit, happy grin. “Living it up! Back home in Waker Islands, parties aren’t nearly thish fun.”

“Goddesses, Aryll,” I exclaim as I pull her off the dance floor and towards the bar, under Ralph Ambi’s amused stare. “You’re not allowed to be here,” I hiss at her, separating every syllable in faint hope that it might get through to her. “You’re underage!” I say, as low as possible over the steady beat of the music.

Aryll waves it off carelessly, then takes notice of Ralph, who is casually picking his way towards us. “Oh my Nayru, Zellie, who ish that hunk with you?”

I turn and see Ralph, having clearly overheard the whole thing, raising his brow to look at my panic with visible entertainment. Bastard.

“That’s just Ralph.” I say, turning back to Aryll, who is swaying a bit alarmingly. But she seems to be having fun. “Aryll, does your brother know you’re here?”

She squints at me. “Link? Like heck. He doesn’t want me to have fun.”

I try to keep her from returning to the dance floor where a drunkard could very possibly molest her. “He doesn’t want you to get arrested for underage drinking ―and he’s right!”

Aryll rolls her eyes, swaying again. This time, she sways so far that Ralph has to extend a hand and keep her from falling to the floor. She looks up at him with drunken gratitude. “Oh, thank you,” she slurs prettily.

“My pleasure,” Ralph assures her, though he really seems to find it more entertaining than pleasurable. He looks up at me with twinkling green eyes, and he’s clearly enjoying the view of me fussing over the little sister of my ex-publicist.

“Sho what are you chelebrating anyway?” Aryll asks, holding onto Ralph’s arm for support. She has clearly begun to realise that her legs aren’t supposed to act like rubber. Still, it doesn’t seem to alarm her very much.

“I’m not celebrating anything. Call your brother and go straight home.”

Aryll looks a bit annoyed and begins to whine. “Zellie, you’re shuch a party pooper.”

She has no idea. Clearly, the irony of this statement makes Ralph look up from Aryll’s slight form to smirk at me. I ignore him. I know I should be escaping, but I can’t just leave Aryll here! Who knows what could happen?

“Aryll, if you don’t call your brother immediately…”

“I get it, I get it.” She reaches inside her handbag for her cell phone. Her drunken smile has turned to heavy disappointment. She squints back at me as she waits for her cell phone to flicker on. “Hey, where’s Darunia anyway? The guy my brother hired to protect you from Ganondorf?”

I blink at her. The guy Link hired to… Hold on there. “What do you mean?”

Aryll looks surprised that I have no clue what she’s talking about. She’s slowly dialling Link’s number. “You don’t know? I told him about what Ganondorf Dragmire almosht did to you in the Gold Ballroom and I had to convinche him not to go and murder Ganondorf.” She shrugs and brings the phone to her ear. “So inshtead he hired Darunia.”

I stare at her as she walks away to a quieter spot in order to hear the other side of the line. Ralph comes to stand beside me. “Day of revelations?” He suggests, extremely amused.

“Oh, shut up,” I groan, shaking my head and walking to a stool by the bar. Ralph follows casually.

“What exactly did Dragmire almost do to you?” He asks, carefully, leaning next to me.

I raise my shoulders and let them fall. “Threatened me. When I told him my way of thinking, he tried to strangle me.”

Ralph looks suitably serious now. “So Forester hired a bodyguard for you.”

I rub my forehead. “It would seem like it. I thought I got a bodyguard as part of the queen deal. Not as a reaction to Ganondorf.”

Ralph smirks to himself. “Yeah, well. Forester isn’t the type to let things happen. He usually tries to make for a change.”

I think back to the pair of flip-flops, and the Green Potion pills… And the resulting dessert incident. No, don’t think about that again, Zelda.

Still, it is true Link has done plenty of small things to help me out. And technically, the results were an improvement over my previous situation. I mean, Ezlo and Kaepora hadn’t exactly been upset…

No, I can’t think like that. I’m escaping. I’m trying to get away from him as fast as possible because I’m a coward.

I sigh, a bit depressed, when Aryll comes up next to me again. She looks a bit sullen. I stare at her curiously. She is currently ordering another drink.

“Um, Aryll…” Why isn’t she heading home now?

She shoots me a disappointed frown. “Oh, come on. It’s my lasht drink.”

“No,” I say. “I mean, shouldn’t you be leaving, rather?”

Aryll sighs, taking a happy sip of her bright pink cocktail. “I will. But Link doesn’t want me driving so he’s coming to fetch me.” She scowls comically, though my heart has just passed through my throat. “He didn’t shound very happy. I think I woke him up. He’s driving over as we shpeak.”

Crap. Link is headed this way. That means he saw my open door, that means he knows what I’m doing, that means…

Oh Farore. I have to get away. Now.

Ralph notices my panic. He puts a hand to my arm, but I slap it away. I glare at him warningly. In response, he just raises his hands innocently. He says, “I just meant to say you can take my car to the station, if you want.”

Aryll stares at us both without understanding much. “Um… Shtation?” She turns to look at me. “You’re going shomewhere?”

I try to laugh her question off as best as I can. “He meant palace. I’m heading back too.”

Aryll blinks. “Then hitch a ride from Link, like me.”

Okay, there’s no getting rid of inquiring teens. I say, “Um, that’s a great idea. Do excuse me.”

Forget the car and my luggage. I’m just going to run and catch a taxi. I make for the restrooms, but then I hurry out the door and down the stairs, feeling my heart leap and my stomach contract in panic. It’s like sheer terror is making me stumble down the stairs of the Grave Yard, and I almost trip and fall five times.

I have never been this terrified in my life.

I burst out into the street and look up and down, trying to find a taxi. Screw my luggage, it’s in Ralph’s trunk, and I’ll just have to deal without it. Once I’m home, I’ll have him send it.

No car slows down for me. Inevitably, taxis don’t roam around at one in the morning.

I’m breathless. I have to get out of sight, I have to leave town before Link calls an alert on me. I wouldn’t put it past him.

Oh my Din, I panic, wishing death on Ralph. If he hadn’t taken me here, I’d already be gone and…

A taxi? I run to the edge of the sidewalk, and outstretch my hand, blinded by the brightness of the headlights. But the taxi doesn’t slow down. It just speeds on its way. I feel like screaming insults at it, like running and begging to be taken away from this place. Link could be arriving at any time now…

I consider just running away and trying on another corner, so that at least Link won’t see me here, in front of the Grave.

A new set of headlights comes over to my sidewalk, and I turn my head, ready to thank the kindly taxi driver who has finally stopped to aid me…

The car fires down. A bit late I realise with impossible dread…

This is no taxi. The driver steps out and my heart freezes, right there, in my throat, and I feel despair flow through me.

Times seems to freeze. Link slams his door shut and gives me the harshest stare I have ever seen him use. We’re silent for what must be a few seconds but seems like an eternity. A bit late, I feel that my eyes have been tearing, and a salty tear touches my lips.

I try to wipe my eyes, but I just feel like sobbing in shame and fear.

Link seems to notice this, but doesn’t look awfully saddened by it. He walks around the front of his car and comes to stand in front of me. I flinch.

This is exactly what I wanted to avoid. This is exactly why I had to run away.

“So,” Link says, looking down at me with slowly increasing sadness, “this is your answer.”

“I can’t do it,” I whimper, feeling incredible shame for letting him down so awfully.

Link hands me a paper. It’s the note I left for him. My fingers tremble as I take it from him. I look up at him uncertainly. I notice his gaze has softened to gentle sorrow.

He says, “I never lied to you. I think you still have the potential to become the best queen in the world.”

I can see that he means it, too.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper.

“No,” he says, shaking his head. “Don’t be.”

“You must hate me, now.”

Link smiles, softly, with that tinge of sadness. “It takes more than that to make me hate people.” He looks down at me, still as handsome as ever. “Though I’ll have to say it’s a bit more painful than being elbowed in the jaw.”

I feel miserable for sure, now.

“You can find someone else who’ll be better than me,” I say, tentatively.

Link doesn’t even go down that track. He looks up at the Grave Yard building, with the bright lights in the lounge at the top. He asks, “Why were you here?”

With resentment, I say, “Ralph Ambi dragged me here. He didn’t give me a choice.”

Link says nothing about my abduction. “He’s still up there?”

I nod. “Um, yes. He’s keeping an eye on Aryll, I guess.”

Link’s already sombre expression darkens suddenly. “I can’t believe she went ahead and…” He shakes his head, both annoyed and incredulous. Then, he looks at me, and says, “On the phone, she told me you had commanded her to call me and head home.” He looks cautiously curious. “… Why?”

I blink up at him. Is he seriously asking me this?

“Well, I know you don’t like the idea of her clubbing,” I say, slowly, “I couldn’t just stand by and see her get thrashed like that.”

“But it prevented your… escape.” He motions vaguely.

I avert my eyes. “Just because I’m a coward doesn’t mean I don’t care!” I huff. “I don’t have to be queen to be a good person! I worry for her just like anyone decent!”

Link grabs my shoulders. He stares straight into my eyes. It’s almost unbearable but I try to sustain his gaze. “Tell me: how can a person with such a defined heart not be a good queen?”

I can’t believe he’s still trying. I shake him off. “I’m not strong enough. I’m not gutsy enough. I’m just…” I make motions with my hands, feeling extremely frustrated that he won’t just let me be, “I’m just a wisecrack!” I don’t know exactly what I’m trying to demonstrate, but Ganondorf Dragmire’s words have definitely been weighing on me.

Link looks as irritated as I feel. “You were strong and gutsy enough to leave us. You’d have succeeded, too, if you didn’t have such a big caring heart.” He’s clearly trying to drive something into my head. “Don’t you see? You have what it takes to become a queen, you fool.”

“Prove it,” I dare him, feeling frustrated.

Link looks exasperated. I can see that he’s insistent when he says, “You’re a natural. You’re always so panicked about doing something wrong that you force yourself beyond measure to succeed.”

“But I fail anyways,” I say, bitterly.

“You didn’t fail!” Link exclaims, grabbing my arms and giving me a shake. “Don’t you understand? The facts are there: you’re so human that the people love you without reason. But you’re hardly satisfied with that: you give them something different, something new. Within a few days, they’ve already dubbed you ‘Princess’ Zelda. I even spent the whole day with Gonzo filling up an office with countless flower arrangements and letters addressed to you!”

Whoa. New info.

“What?” I ask, incredulously.

Link sighs. “You were too busy hiding in your room to notice. Oh, and I almost forgot. I wanted to give these to you, but you had locked yourself in, so I couldn’t hand them over. Here.”

He takes two sheets of folded paper from his pocket and gives them to me. I try to read in the city lights.

“The first is from the Youth Group you spoke to.” Link explains. “Saria has been meaning to invite you to their meeting next month.” Shit. I remember about Saria. I’m their spokesperson! Farore, how do I back out of this one?

“And the next one,” Link says, “is from your friends in Lakeside. Malon, Anju and Ruto, I believe their names are.” My heart leaps. Link scratches the back of his neck. “They were planning on coming to visit you in two days. Said they adored your press conference and that all of Lakeside was rooting for you.”

I stare up at Link. “You’ve been reading my mail?” I say this to hide the sudden feeling that’s growing inside of me. It’s like a sense of duty mixed with something else.

He sends me a sarcastic look. “No, I’ve been chewing it.”

I’m silent for a long, long moment. I don’t know why, but it’s like the solution to all my problems is right in front of me and I can’t see it.

Until Link says, tentatively and with clear discomfort, “To be quite honest…” I look up at him. “The reason I don’t want you to go is that… I want you to be the queen.” Seeing my surprise, he shifts from one foot to the other. “I know this sounds like I’m insistent, but the fact is…” He looks impossibly sincere now. “I can’t imagine another person in your place, Zelda.”

That’s when I realise that, actually…

I can’t either.

There’s a long silence. Something inside falls into place. Maybe it’s my heart that just dropped back into its natural cavity. Because then, I look at Link and I understand him perfectly.

Duty, I think. Duty mixed with a love of something greater than duty.

I break the silence with a sigh, causing Link’s face to break into a true, heartfelt grin, one I haven’t seen on his professional face in a long time, and I say, “Let’s get Aryll home.”