There is nothing better, I officially decide, than lying in a long chair in the middle of the afternoon beside a splendid pool, wearing a queenly string bikini and soaking in the rays. It’s been so long since I last did that, so I had to spread on some sunscreen, but it doesn’t matter. The day started out beautifully, with a bright sunshine and no clouds. The sky, even in the city, is a deep, intense blue.

The air is clear, there’s a refreshing breeze, and, the moment I saw the palace pool, I knew the only way to spend my first day off was to spend it right here, next to the water.

“This is the life,” Aryll mumbles with satisfaction from beneath her sunglasses next to me. She’s wearing a light blue bikini that incited a few ogles from Niko and Gonzo on our way here. Her sun-bleached hair is splayed around her head making her look like she’s had plenty of beach moments back in Waker Islands. In comparison, my hair can’t look nearly that good.

But who cares? I know I don’t.

“Yeah,” I say, mirroring her languid, lazy tone with mine. “Too bad Tetra had work to do.”

“She said she might drop by later,” Aryll reminds me.

I grunt, unwilling to formulate a word more. The heat is making me feel drowsy.

“Don’t fall asleep,” Aryll jokes. “You might toast, and that’s no good for your health.”

“Screw my health. I’m loving this.”

We stay silent for a long moment, and when I think that Aryll fell asleep herself, she asks, in the same lazy tone, “Weren’t your friends supposed to come over to Marcastle today?”

I nod, and I think that if her eyes are closed like mine, she can’t see the motion, so I say, “Yeah. But they ―as in your brother and the others― didn’t want me to leave the palace grounds to wander in a public, uncontrolled place. I protested, as you can guess, so Link vowed that he’d have someone pick them up at their hotel.”

“They’re not staying here?”

“They don’t have a reason to. They don’t want to have to check-in and out of security. I don’t blame them.”

Besides, I figure since I’ll most often be taking lessons or on duty, having them at the palace at all times would impede on their tourist trips. And it wouldn’t be fair.

“So when are they coming over?”

“I’m not sure,” I mumble. “I guess they’ll be here anytime soon.”

I don’t hear Aryll’s response because at that very moment, a familiar voice says, “It’s in days like these that I love being a lord.”

I open my eyes and turn. Aryll too shifts in her chair, and we both look at Ralph Ambi, who has joined us by the poolside and is grinning down at us. He isn’t smiling in a lecherous way, but his tone is heavy with insinuation. I roll my eyes behind my shades.

Notably, Ralph Ambi looks great in swimming trunks.

No, I’m not kidding.

He’s got abs, baby. Abs.

Aryll too seems to notice this, and looks eloquently back at me over the rim of her sunglasses. To Ralph, she says, “Are you the guy who kept me from vomiting all over the Grave Yard lounge?”

Ralph grins. “I guess so. I hope your hangover hasn’t been too hard on you.”

Aryll smiles. “Well, I’m starting to feel a bit better now.” She sends him a simple, obvious look.

“Shocking,” Ralph answers, gravely.

Wait a minute.

Is Aryll… flirting? Worse. Is Ralph responding to and enjoying it?

Oh, I can see why Link is so suspicious of Ralph now. I suppress a giggle.

Ralph drops the towel he had slung over his tanned shoulder onto the chair next to Aryll. Apologetically, he says, bowing a bit, “Do excuse me, but the water looks too good to pass up on.” With that, he and his gorgeous toned body plunge in the deep end of the pool smoothly, hardly sending any droplets flying. We see him vanish below the surface, only to reappear a few strokes away from us, pushing his hair out of his face with both hands, his shoulders bunching up a bit, all the while wearing a broad, contented grin.

Aryll, I notice, seems to appreciate the sight at much as I am.

She turns to say something when suddenly another, extremely familiar voice says, “So I work my butt off down south while you get a great show up north on the side of a pool? Some queen you are.”

I’m so surprised that I nearly choke on my own saliva. I turn to stare wide-eyed at Malon, who is standing there in the sunlight, arms crossed and a flat look on her face. I realise her eyes still have the same laughing glint in them, so I allow myself to reply, “It’s my right. This is my first vacation day since I came here.”

Malon and I stare each other down when suddenly we break off into hysterical squeals, the likes of which would surely awaken the dead. I stand and run over to her, hugging her tightly.

“Oh, I missed you so much!” I exclaim, and she laughs as gleefully as I feel.

Ralph wades over to the shallow end and leans against the edge of the pool, looking beyond Aryll at our antics. Aryll too seems extremely amused.

“When did you get here?” I ask, excitedly.

“We just did,” Malon says, and looks over her shoulder to check that the coast is clear before confiding, “Ruto’s dad paid for our tickets! The guy who came to pick us up ―Sheik Strike, I think his name is― has got to be the most amazing man I have ever―”

“There she goes again,” a smooth, confident female voice says, and I see Ruto Watters turning the hedge corner to join us. I squeal again and hop away from Malon to hug her.

A ways behind me, I hear Ralph mumble something incoherent but awed.

I can’t blame him. Ruto has that effect on people. She’s one of those slinky, gorgeous diva types. With pale, almost shining skin, impossibly long legs and exotic features, she’s what girls would kill to be. Her jet-black hair is always perfect and silky, and her eyes are always perfectly made-up. She’s got the confidence of a pack leader. And yet, with Malon and I, Ruto drops the fashion-plate attitude and forgets she’s a rich man’s daughter. Her fuse is longer than Malon’s but when she gets upset she’s fiercer even, which is a sight to behold.

“She’s been going on about Mr. Strike since we got out of his hearing range,” she explains to me.

Indignantly, Malon says, “Excuse me. Am I really to blame? Have you seen that guy anyway?” She turns to ask for my support. “Tell her.”

I just laugh at their familiar antics and say, “I am so happy to see you both.”

“Actually,” Ruto declares, “Anju is there too, but she stopped to talk with hunk boy number 593, also known as Link Forester, I believe.”

At my raised but carefully not jealous brow, she says, “She’s been asking about behind the scenes progress and wondering if she can make t-shirts with your face on them.”

Oh my. I briefly wonder if I shouldn’t just head inside and salvage what is left of my image, but then I decide that Link probably knows what he’s doing.

Aryll, behind me, still lying in her long chair, almost audibly raises a brow and snickers, “Hunk boy number 593?” Ah. Obviously, her siblinghood blinds her to her brother’s hotness.

Ruto shrugs coolly and answers her, “Yes. It seems the only thing around here are handsome men.” She sends a subtle glance at Ralph, who is listening amusedly. “We might get confused, so we number them.”

Ralph, having gotten over his awe of Ruto fast enough to formulate full sentences by now, comments, “Clearly, you haven’t encountered the staff.”

Aryll and I turn to Ralph reproachfully, trying to hide our approval, and I say, “Ralph, take that back. They’re extremely nice people.”

“Thank goodness,” Ralph smirks. “It’s all they have left.”

This time, Aryll can’t hold back her giggle, and even I have to try not to smile too visibly. Malon and Ruto shoot me glances that seem to say, ‘you’ve been sitting here flirting your butt off all along, sneaky canary.’ I know exactly that’s what they’re thinking, I’ve known them that long. It’s a real bitch sometimes, because then I can’t pretend I don’t know what their eloquent looks mean.

I know. My life is so hard.

“So,” Ruto says, commandeering a long chair next to me, making Malon squeak at the unfairness, “spill. Any hot dukes you might want to introduce us to?”

“None,” I declare in honesty.

“Liar,” Ruto snaps back, squinting in warning as she leans forward menacingly.

Before I can defend myself against her comical mistrust, I hear Ralph’s indignant voice say, “Yeah. Liar. What do I count for? Seaweed?”

I turn to him and prepare myself for another front of defence, when Aryll says, “Oh, stop that self-pity thing, Ralph. You don’t count. She said dukes, not lords. You have to pay attention when people speak, you know.”

Ralph sends her a wounded glare, but then his eye gets that weird glint of evil plotting. He stares at Aryll’s gently cooking body and a smirk grows on his face.

Before Aryll knows it, Ralph has pulled himself out of the pool, much to Malon, Ruto and my contented awe ―there’s water droplets running their happy shining course down his splendid body, a sight for any woman to appreciate― and is hefting Aryll up. At this point, she has taken to screeching her head off because he’s soaked and cold in comparison to her warm dry skin, and has begun to fight back and struggle, as she can sense what fate awaits her.

We watch in bemused silence as Ralph and Aryll both tumble into the pool, Ralph laughing in glorious victory ―and joy at being able to feel a bit of Aryll up, I’m sure― and Aryll screaming bloody murder.

I must say it’s very entertaining.

When Aryll re-emerges next to Ralph, gasping indignantly, she sends a large splash of water in his direction, which he merely laughs at. In spite of getting completely soaked, Aryll looks like she doesn’t mind all that much.

Still, she looks my way for support, and I can’t help a giggle.

That is, until another male voice behind us makes my heart dive well into my stomach by asking, “What in the world are you doing to my sister, Ambi?”

I turn to look at Link, and I definitely turn to jelly.

Because, see, he’s wearing bathing trunks, the bastard. I’m saying bastard because he should know a body like that is a potential hazard for sensible girls like me.

Especially if that body is a stunning specimen of male perfection, with that slightly tanned skin and lean, toned muscles moving right under it, looking like human candy without the sugar and added weight. In all, he’s drool-worthy, and in the boundaries of any diet.

His dirty blonde hair looks a bit scraggly, but totally sexy, and fits amazingly well with that hard stomach and those sinewy arms and hands― Never mind Ralph. Link is twice as gorgeous.

Speaking of Ralph, the poor guy ―objectively speaking, he’s far from poor, but he’s sure to suffer, which kinda makes me pity him― turns away from Aryll’s uncontrolled laughter to look beyond Ruto, Malon and I. His smile wanes a bit, but then he says, “Forester. Hey. I’m helping her to loosen up.”

“What? I do not need loosening up, you bastard!” Aryll exclaims, suddenly growing angry, splashing Ralph more, which makes him grin.

Link raises a blonde eyebrow. I can see that he knows that Aryll and Ralph have been flirting outrageously, and I expect him to calmly ask Aryll to knee Ralph where it hurts most. Of course, a pure physicist might wonder, is it possible to kick someone with much force if slowed by water?

Not, I think, that Link’s protective-big-brother syndrome will care much for physics at this point. I figure if Aryll can’t manage to kick Ralph in the family jewels quite hard enough, Link could gladly do it himself.

Surprisingly, Link does not ask his sister to kick her unofficial wooer in the gonads at all. He simply closes his eyes, inhales deeply, and says, under his breath so neither Aryll or Ralph can overhear him properly, “Please don’t tell me this originated in the Grave Yard.”

“Okay, then,” I say, trying to keep my voice level ―don’t look at me, look at those abs! ― “I won’t.”

Link nods, opens his eyes again, and strides past me and towards the deeper end of the pool, where Aryll and Ralph await their full sentence. This allows Malon, Ruto and I an unhindered view of his faintly tanned and rippled back and shoulders as he walks away from us.

Drool.

“Please tell me he’s good in bed,” Malon whispers in my ear, looking at Link fixedly.

“I don’t know,” I say. But then I figure he probably is. It would so figure.

“What do you mean you don’t know?” Malon hisses into my ear, again, sounding incredulous. “What have you been doing all this time? Picking flowers?”

“No,” I say, still a bit dazed by Link, who is now busily telling Ralph that he needs to talk, man-to-man. At least, that’s what I gather. I must say I’m fairly distracted by the way the electric blue water reflections play on Link’s exquisite body. “I’ve been learning to sit.”

Ruto snickers a bit. Right now, Ralph is trying to evade Link’s ultimatum. It’s kind of a funny scene, actually.

“What do you mean you’ve been learning to sit?” Malon whispers harshly next to me, keeping her voice just low enough so that the others can’t overhear us. “I know the only thing I’d want to be sitting on if I were you is―”

“What the heck are you whispering about?” Another familiar voice asks, and I turn to grin broadly at my unknowing saviour.

“Anju!” I exclaim, hugging her tightly. “Save me!”

“What I’m whispering about,” Malon says, now speaking at a normal tone of voice, which has managed to attract the attention of the actors in the drama unfolding just a few big strides away from us. She lowers her voice to a whisper again, hissing angrily in my face, “is that Zelda is being slow and stupid. Again.”

“Hey,” I whisper back, trying to keep my indignation under control, “I’m not stupid.”

“At least tell me he saw your beetle underwear,” Malon indulgently offers, making Anju look from my face to hers and back.

“What?” I breathe, feeling myself grow bright red at the very thought of Link seeing any of my underwear, “Are you crazy?”

“See?” Malon says, lifting her hand almost like she just demonstrated something of scientific certainty, “she’s stupid.”

Anju looks a bit amused, but then she says, “I don’t know. It just kind of looks like she has been ogling him in silence.”

I would’ve liked to say that meanwhile the men engaged in a distracting full-out brawl of majestic proportions, but unfortunately, that is not the case. It’s a pity, because I know the idea of two stunningly hot, half-naked men engaging in a wrestling match to prove their muscular supremacy is the stuff of dreams.

But we live in a civilized world, so instead, it seems Link and Ralph simply talked it out. Or, rather, it seems Link talked Ralph out of trying to sleep with his sister. But I don’t think Ralph had such designs in the first place, which is why both men walk away from the face-off looking vaguely reassured.

I guess talking really does avoid open conflicts. What a lesson for the future.

“I’m telling you,” Malon is whispering now as she sees our private consultation time drawing to an end, “it was high time we got here, darling, because we’re going to get you moving.”

“That’s a hideous prospect,” I conclude miserably.

“No,” Malon confidently insists, “it’s not. Now here he comes. Ask him to join you in the whirlpool tub. Now.”

“No!”

“Now!” Malon exclaims, returning to normal voice level.

“You’ll have to kill me first!” I courageously declare.

“Maybe I will!” Malon says, a smile beginning to stretch her features.

“I’m not afraid of you!”

“Fine then! Die, die, die!”

At this point, Malon and I resolve not to talk it out, which is what we should have done. Malon clearly hasn’t seen the guys talk it out, because she was too busy berating me for not making a move on Link yet, which just proves once more that Link is too handsome for my own good.

In any case, it is somewhat of a mystery how I wind up colliding with Link’s warm body a mere second later and toppling into the water, with Link’s chest as the only thing in sight for a second or two.

Heaven, I think for a blissful split second, until I realise that, technically and hopefully, in heaven, one should be able to breathe.

I push towards the surface and catch my breath. At the same time, Link pops out from under the water and takes in a deep lungful of oxygen. A bit bewildered, he looks at me, but I’m too busy avoiding his gaze and glaring up at Malon, who is grinning down at me victoriously.

“You didn’t have to push me in,” I scowl.

Malon just grins. “You were roasting a bit too much.”

Ralph, who has observed the whole incident from the poolside, next to a very amused Aryll, suddenly says, albeit teasingly, “That’s right, Forester. Berate me for innocent flirting with your sister and feel up the future queen yourself, why don’t you?”

I swear I am never going to lose this blush. That would be too good. I turn to Ralph and say, a bit panicked, “That’s not what it’s like.”

But Ralph just winks at me, signifying he’s merely trying to reel Link up. I expect Link to deny Ralph’s accusation, but instead, my gorgeous publicist pulls himself out of the water ―oh my Nayru, rippling muscles! ― mumbling, “Mind your own business, Ambi. I can have you sent back without diplomatic troubles, you know.”

I look up just in time to see rivulets of water undulating on Link’s body as he walks back towards his towel, the glittering droplets like specks of white light on every ridge of his chest and stomach.

Too hot… I feel faint.

“Oh, Zelda,” Malon teases under the extremely amused gazes of Ruto and Anju, “don’t stay in there too long. You might turn into an old fruit.”

“I hate you so much,” I mumble, moving with a stretch of my arms to the edge of the pool. I pull myself up, but not with as much strength at Link just did. Don’t blame me; I’m a lazy ass and he’s got the sexiest muscles in Hyrule.

“No, you don’t, sweetie,” Malon says, handing me my towel and evading my little flicks of water. “You just know I’m always right, and that annoys you.”

“Isn’t that the same thing?” Ruto asks Anju, who is now lost in her thoughts, possibly thinking about a new t-shirt design, though I hope it doesn’t involve me, even remotely.

Wishful thinking, I know.

Thankfully, at this point Koume decides to come by with a large platter of food. This distracts almost everyone enough that I can just reach for my towel and attempt to dry myself off.

I notice Link is glancing my way, and when he realises I’m looking back, he smiles weakly and asks, “You’re okay?”

I sidestep towards him, and, as subtly as possible, I ask, “Please tell me you didn’t accept Anju’s offer to make a t-shirt with my face on it.”

Link laughs, which hardly earns us a glance. Everyone else is too busy trying to fill his or her stomach. Malon, Ruto and Anju are pleading exhaustion and hunger from the trip, and Aryll and Ralph are only too eager to help them finish the plate. “How could I not?” He asks. “Her design was brilliant.”

I can’t disguise my despair. I don’t want my face to end up on anyone’s chest!

Unless it’s Link’s, of course, but obviously that doesn’t count.

“What design?”

Link’s lips are stretched into a smirk as he steers me towards the food, “One of her bestsellers, with the key line being ‘Only in Hyrule’.”

Oh Din.

Link stretches one of his sinewy arms over his sister’s shoulder, grabs a bunch of grapes, throws one of the little fruits into his mouth, then offers me some.

So, I end up eating grapes with a half-naked Link instead of complaining about my face on other peoples’ chests. So sue me. I had to grab the opportunity. Other girls wouldn’t have done any different if they’d been in my place.

“I might even buy one of those t-shirts myself,” Link casually says, and I almost choke on a grape. He slaps my shoulder lightly until I catch my breath. “Hey, don’t die on me.” He laughs. “If my support is unappreciated, then I won’t.”

“Must you all torment me so?” I say, despaired. “It’s bad enough that I have all this stress on my shoulders...”

“Stress?” Ruto overhears and seems to find this laughable. “Give me a break. You’ve been lying on the poolside all day.”

“She has a Royal Guard review to do on horseback tomorrow,” Link mildly comments, and I appreciate his defence because I’d forgotten I have―

Oh Farore! A Royal Guard review! I’d totally forgotten! What if I mess up? What if I make a fool of myself because Epona doesn’t cooperate? What if I break my neck??

Calm down, Zelda… Okay. Now I’m really stressed.

Malon spots my anguish and waves it off. “Easy, there. I’ll help you handle the horse if you panic.”

Ruto squints at Malon. “You’re just saying that because Mr. Strike is in charge of the horses here.”

Malon shrugs. “So? At least I freely admit that I enjoy Mr. Strike’s company. At least he’s more accessible than your guy.”

Wait. Guy? Ruto has a guy? “You have a guy?” I blurt out, my shock causing Malon, Anju, Link, Aryll and Ralph to chuckle.

“He’s not my guy,” Ruto sniffs, a bit disdainfully as Malon’s feigned ignorance and my genuine one. “Would you please? Besides, you already met him. You know he’s not a gorgeous specimen.”

I already met him? Um. “You’re not referring to Barry Barinade, right? That guy was just weird.” Ruto met him while working at the marine research centre. His good looks got him in Ruto’s bed until she realised he was completely and frighteningly obsessed with electric jellyfish, after which she made all the possible efforts to distance herself from his freakishness.

Malon stifles a snort of laughter, and Ruto sends her an annoyed look. To me, she says, “Obviously not. I’m talking about my all-time idol, Jabun Jabu.” I can see her face light up. “He’s a brilliant mind.” Then, her gaze sharpens as its fixes itself on me. “I saw you on TV. You had the amazing opportunity to speak with him and I’m sure you didn’t even realise it.”

I try to look indignant, but I kind of know that she’s right. “Excuse me, I was trying to look like I cared about crazy people named Tingle, okay?”

“Speaking of which,” Anju suddenly says, speaking up for the first time in a while, “would you mind,” she asks Link, “if I took that picture of Tingle holding onto you for a comedy shirt?”

Link looks a bit surprised and vaguely embarrassed. His eyes search mine, but I just avert my gaze and force a smirk. Now he knows how I feel. Hah!

I see him shake his head to himself and smile in disbelief, before saying, to Anju, “Of course I don’t mind.”

I send him a glare, but he just smirks right back.

There should be a law against sexy men like that. Din knows they hinder proper thought patterns and everything.

I mean, I’d like to think that I look good enough myself. Ralph has been alluding on a regular basis that I’m easy on the eyes, after all, and Link has been looking my way a bit longer at times than strictly necessary. But I sometimes wish that I could make guys drool at the sight of me like I tend to drool for Link. It’s like guys have more control on stuff like that than I do.

It’s a real bummer.

I’m pulled from my thoughts by a hand on my shoulder. I see Ralph leaning to examine my face. I blink at him curiously. He’s grinning broadly.

That’s when he asks, “Are you paying attention?” He jabs his thumb in Malon’s direction, even as she talks almost non-stop in animation to the others, “She’s describing your beetle panties to your publicist.”

As my face grows steadily darker, I’m wonder if having my friends around is such a great thing after all.