Link in a tux: I never get used to it.

Isn’t that the way of it, though? A girl can be going through one of the, if not the most important day in her life, and she’ll still notice how hot her publicist is. But surely that’s because he’s dressed in a gorgeous charcoal suit with a white shirt and a black and grey tie. His hair is just a little more fixed up than usual, but it still looks handsomely shaggy.

He’s helping his pretty sister to zip her cocktail dress’ back all the way up, because when she came into my room to ask that of me, I was busy getting dressed in my own gown in the bathroom. So when he followed her in with a polite knock, he spontaneously helped her out. Just seeing his brotherly care is enough to remind me of why I’m in love with him.

The problem is that he doesn’t love me back.

Oh, sure, he didn’t tell me anything like that. I mean, he probably didn’t even think twice about how he feels for me. Which is where I have a problem.

I don’t want to be Link’s final charge.

Because, oh yeah. He also wants to leave the business of publicity. Whoopee.

I step out even as Link lets his sister’s curled locks of hair fall back over her shoulders elegantly. He raises his eyes when he notices that I’ve been observing them. The siblings have almost identical eyes, but where Aryll’s are feminine and cute, Link’s are burning and sharp.

And gods, his blue eyes burn me through for a second that feels like an eternity. It’s hard to remember how to breathe when he looks at me like that, like he just woke up from a dream and finally sees me.

Before he can say anything, Aryll suddenly lets out a loud, excited shriek.

“Oh my gods, Zelda!” She hurries over to me as quickly as she can with four-inch heels in her feet. “You are gorgeous!” She looks at me from head to toe; her pale blonde curls bouncing against her tanned cheeks from where they’ve escaped her casual chignon. “Is this―? Oh my gods. You’re wearing a Maple designer gown!”

I can’t help but laugh at her excitement. “With matching shoes,” I add, pulling my gown’s hem up just enough for her to admire my elegant slippers. I feel like a real princess.

“You’re beautiful!” Aryll cries. She turns to her brother for approval. “She’s beautiful, isn’t she?”

Link hasn’t said a word yet. I’m glad to notice that he’s a bit slower-minded since he saw me dressed like this.

Then, after clearing his throat politely, he says, “Lavender suits you.”

Aryll lets out an annoyed groan. “Oh, please. You’re talking to the future queen, Link. Can’t you be a bit more, I don’t know, descriptive?”

I stop her, because I have the strong feeling that I know what Link really wants to say about my dress and, for the first time ever, it makes me feel very complimented. At least, it’s hard not to understand what his appraising look means.

Well, at least it seems he thinks I look good. Who knows? Maybe he’ll start loving me a bit more. Though that is probably just wishful thinking.

“No one said,” I therefore interrupt Aryll, “that I’m the future queen. Don’t give me false hopes. It’s best not to put my expectations too high.”

She sighs. “Whatever.”

Whatever’s right. Even if Aryll hadn’t suggested that I might become queen-to-be today, I’d have hoped for it beyond hope. Because I really want to become queen. I really want to make a difference in this world. I really want the people of Hyrule to be happy under my reign. This isn’t just about repaying my debts anymore.

Mom, I think absently, look at your daughter today. Did you know something like this would ever happen to me? A month ago, I was trying so hard to be more, and now, I finally am more. Mom, and you too, Dad, keep an eye out for me. I could make a real difference, I just know it…

“Hey.”

The male voice next to me is startling. I turn to look straight into Link’s blue eyes. Where’s Aryll? Oh gods, where’s Aryll? Did she leave? She can’t have left already!

Because the thing is, I don’t trust myself around Link anymore. Since the arrest of the gunman who threatened my life and from whom Link protected me ―that’s right, he saved my life, for gods’ sake―, the press has been hounding me for my thoughts on the matter. And back then, Link had been furious all that evening, and in no mood to discuss our non-relationship, as I’d hoped we would.

So I never did get to speak to him about anything. He made himself unavailable all of yesterday, too, locking himself away in his office to work on stuff, probably his resignation notice.

It’s all so unfair. Tomorrow, someone, either Ganondorf Dragmire ―that jackass who tried to kill me, though we have no official proof, because the gunman refuses to talk so we can’t accuse Ganondorf of anything, the jerk― or myself, will be crowned. And that will be the last time I see Link.

That’s why loving him feels so bittersweet. At this rate, he’ll probably never know. I mean, it obviously didn’t seem to click when I kissed him four days ago, so he won’t get the clue unless I tell him.

And I don’t think that’d be a very good idea anymore.

And gods, my political opponent is trying to have me killed and all I can concern myself with is how sad I am that my publicist, who probably never loved me back, is going to leave me forever.

Don’t cry, Zelda.

“You look awfully pensive,” Link says quietly. I glance at him. I know he noticed how my eyes glazed over. He probably thinks it’s because I’m nervous or afraid.

I am afraid, but not of what he thinks.

“Well, it’s hard not to be,” I breathe. “So many things happened in the past month.”

“Yeah. And to think,” he says, “if you hadn’t been so excited on that stage, if you’d stayed motionless for too long, you’d have been shot down.” He looks suitably solemn. “I’m sorry we didn’t put more security than what we mustered. I only noticed the hit man when I happened to look up at the rooftops.”

“It’s not even that,” I say, with a nervous laugh. “I mean, yeah, it’s scary, but I’m fine now, aren’t I?” My smile is a bit watery, I know for sure. Gods, don’t cry, Zelda. You’ll ruin your make-up, and you don’t have time to start again. “It’s just… If I don’t get chosen today, what will happen to me? How could I return to Lakeside after… all this?”

Link obviously doesn’t know any more than I do. He remains silent. This makes me even sadder.

But then, he places a warm hand on my gloved arm and says, “Things will turn out alright. I swore I’d make you into a queen.” He looks a bit sad too. “And you’ve exceeded my expectations.” He gently nudges me into following his walk. “Come. No matter what happens now, you’re going to remain Princess Zelda for all of us.”

His gentle words are amongst the kindest he’s ever spoken to me, and yet they don’t make me feel much better.

Still, there’s nothing left for me to say but, “Thank you, Link.” Not, you’ll notice, ‘Thanks, Link’, but ‘Thank you’. He really did change me.

With that thought haunting me, I follow him out the door. He agreed to be my assistant tonight, again, because there’ll be even more people attending the ball, and its subsequent royal announcement: ministers, my friends, some acquaintances, a lot of diplomats, and journalists abounds, all of whom I have to know the names. Link is probably going to come in handy more than once tonight.

The decoration Tetra and her assistants put up, I consider, is worthy of a grand celebration. And everyone in the room is dressed according to their rank. I spot Kafei, in a three piece suit, making small talk with Anju, who is dressed very elegantly ―I want to know where she got that dress. Beside them, flirting senselessly with ―oh my gods! ― Nabooru Spirit, is Ralph. I remember his happy reaction when, yesterday, finally, I gave him the autographs I collected from the Godly Trio. He’s a nice guy, really, if a bit too much of a flirt.

“I should introduce you to Medli Flight and Komali Chief,” Link says softly from beside me. “Medli is Komali’s steward, and Komali is the symbolic prince of Waker Islands.” He glances around the room. “And they came with Quill Feathers, the Waker Islands ambassador to Hyrule.”

I nod. I’ve heard of them, but I still haven’t met them, so I follow his lead. We make our way amidst a large group of ministers accompanied by their wives. Their reaction to me seems a bit more favourable than it was nine days ago, so I can only hope that it’s a positive sign.

I meet Medli first. She’s a soft-spoken, very intelligent girl, with a strange sort of innate kindness. Her eyes reflect that softness, and every one of her moves is gentle and graceful, like a dove’s.

Komali, on his part, seems pretty young, for a prince. He seems a little awkward at first, but it soon becomes clear he knows exactly what he wants and what is best, like a duckling that’ll turn into a swan. He also seems to welcome me with open arms, even though I’m not officially a royal. Yet.

Quill, finally, reminds me more of a proud eagle than anything else. He stands straight, confident, distant, and yet he hides a tinge of good will that I find very reassuring. He comforts me just by being there, because of his innate familiarity.

After discussing mindless nothings with the three dignitaries, I can finally separate myself from them. I spot Malon and Sheik, dancing. I didn’t know Sheik knew how to dance, though it hardly seems surprising. Malon’s gorgeous, and Sheik’s handsome. They make a better looking couple than their nearby neighbours, Madame Aroma and Mr. Dotour, whose dancing is more amusing than dignified. Madame Aroma’s sheer size thwarts her husbands’, and he already was so frail to begin with!

I take the time to wave at Romani and Cremia, who absently wave back but are engaged in a deep conversation with Darmani, who seems only too happy to be able to entertain young and pretty girls.

I notice Ruto is sitting with Jabun ―I didn’t know he was supposed to be there― and the two are apparently completely smitten with one another. It’s cute, in a creepy sort of way. I’m sure Ruto’s dad will approve of her choice, though, considering Jabun ―who is so unattractive it’s surprising Ruto would go for him― is so smart and successful. … Gods. I shouldn’t think about it too much.

Link and I weave in and out of the crowd of elegantly dressed people, only to smack into the last person I ever expected to meet again.

Tingle.

That's right. The one who thinks he’s a fairy.

Link, understandably, stays a bit further away than before, in light of his history with Tingle and his wariness at being ‘attacked’ again.

“Um,” I say, trying to be polite, considering I’m surrounded by plenty of high-class people, even though all I’m wondering about is ‘what is a nutcase like Tingle doing in here anyway??’, “Hello, there, Tingle.”

He looks at me with newfound respect. “Oh, you remembered my name!” He bows, and I try not to think of him in terms of a tight-wearing thirty-five year-old. Actually, right now, he’s wearing a green tuxedo. It’s frankly the ugliest thing I’ve ever seen, but it seems to make him happy.

“May I ask you what, um, lead you here?” Should I ask Link to call Jabun? Ruto won’t like that, but hello, nutcase on the loose!

“Oh,” Tingle says, very lightly, “I have been hired by very nice people. I am now the official mascot of Fairy TM! Yes! I, a fairy, chosen for such an important task!”

Gag. Is someone playing tricks on me, or something? You have got to be kidding me.

“That’s, um, lovely, Tingle. And are you well-paid?”

Tingle’s eye gets a little gleam that I find not all reassuring. “Oh, yes. Tingle is very well paid. Five hundred rupees per day.”

Five hundred rupees per day? Have they gone nuts?

Well, clearly, if they’re hiring Tingle.

“That’s lovely,” I say again. “Um, you’ll have to excuse me.”

“Yes,” Tingle says happily. “Go on ahead! Kooloo Limpah!”

Before I can even make a final comment, Link has found me again and we are walking away fast, his arm firmly dragging me along. He says, an impossible grin threatening to break his composure, “The world is just a bigger loony bin, after all.”

And, at that, I can’t help but start laughing.

I notice Ezlo and Kaepora talking amongst the elegant crowd, and though they don’t seem to notice me, I prefer to swerve and avoid them. Who knows? I might be trapped into listening to their boring conversations again. And if there’s one thing I’ve learned about talkative old geezers, it’s that the best way to not have to listen to them is to not initiate a conversation.

Actually, I spend the most part of the next hour socializing with numerous ministers and trying not to lose my head to nervousness. Link, this time around, proves a practical reminder, because I’ve forgotten half of those ministers’ names at least.

And, between each conversation, I try not to notice how Link’s proximity is reassuring and steadying, and how his words comfort me beyond reason. I try not to notice how every time he speaks to me he makes me smile. I know he’s doing his best to keep me upbeat and presentable, but it doesn’t make him any less nice, because his fingers keep pressing into my back to guide me gently through the crowd. He’s making sure I meet everyone of importance before the final verdict, and he’s doing this with the same friendly professionalism that made me fall in love with him.

Suddenly, all too soon, the clock strikes seven o’clock. I glance back at Link with anxiety, but he just smiles softly back.

Rauru ―oh, I’d been looking for him, where has he been anyway? ― suddenly stands on a small stage. He politely says, into a microphone, “And now, ministers, it would be my pleasure to invite you into the adjacent room to place your final votes. The results will be counted and presented in an hour from now.” He scans the crowd and looks at me with a smile, then at Ganondorf Dragmire with a nod.

I’ve been stubbornly avoiding Ganondorf Dragmire all evening. Link too, I know, because he’s been guiding me carefully, his eye constantly trained on Ganondorf warily. He hasn’t forgotten the assassination attempt.

Then again, to hear the journalists gush when I sometimes run into them, the fact that I survived an assassination attempt has attracted nationwide sympathy and support.

But will it be enough, I wonder when I see the ministers trickle out of the room, or have I let too many opportunities slip?

I want to speak to Rauru, to thank him before all this is over, but he merely follows the ministers into the other room and shuts the door behind him. It’s strange because he’s not supposed to be voting at all, though I suspect it’s just to make sure everything gets done in an orderly fashion.

Now that the ministers are gone, the room seems somewhat emptier, and the distance separating me from Ganondorf Dragmire seems shortened. On common accord, Link and I steer away from him and towards the other end of the room, where Impa is standing, speaking to a little girl in a pretty blue dress.

Who is that anyway?

Upon closer inspection, I’m shocked to recognize Navi, the little delusional girl from the asylum.

“I think Jabun’s security net is getting a little lax,” Link whispers, but he doesn’t seem to disapprove of Navi’s actual presence. In fact, he’s smiling.

We reach Impa and Navi. I greet Impa with a smile, to which she actually responds ―that’s right; I’m good― with a little quirk of her lips. Link nods politely, and Impa says, to me, as though Link is just part of the décor, “You’re fitting in, aren’t you?”

I grin, but I try to keep my composure. I really have felt like a princess all evening, and the fact that Link has been helping me out, somewhat like he’s always been my assistant in disguise, kept me together.

“You’re nervous,” Impa observes. I nod, even though it wasn’t a question. She smiles, and I’m sure I notice pride on her face. “I’m sure you’ll be rewarded, no matter the outcome.” And she glances at Link, who stares right back with a look I can’t decipher.

I don’t get their exchange, and at this point I figure strange predictions aren’t what I need. I turn my attention to Navi, who has been quiet until now. “How have you been, Navi?”

She looks up at me. She doesn’t look nearly as tired as she used to, and she’s taken some healthy colours. She even greets me with a small, shy smile. “I got better, Princess.”

I smirk at her. “Oh, so you figured it out, about the Queen thing, didn’t you?”

She smiles and nods, but then her eyes find Link’s and she says, “I think I got better thanks to both of you.”

I glance back at Link, who smiles. Which is when I remember that three weeks ago I’d promised to help her out if she wrote letters to me. I’d sworn I’d answer her, but Link had told me I wouldn’t have time for it, and so he’d promised to take care of it all.

“Right,” I say, apologetically. “I would have written those letters, except―”

“It’s alright,” Navi assures me with a sweet smile. “Link explained everything to me. You’re very nice.” She glances around at all the dignitaries then looks back down at her dress. “I wanted to come say thank you for everything. The doctors say I have to stay under observation, but I think I’m healed for good, this time.” She smiles, and she’s the cutest little girl I’ve ever seen. “You believed me and that’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me.”

There’s something about that statement that warms my heart.

Navi smiles and adds, “Besides, if there ever had been a hero for me to warn, it’d have been Link.” She grins broadly at him, and he smiles sheepishly. “He told me all about the legends of Hyrule in his letters. Apparently, the famed Hero of Legend’s name was also Link!”

I hadn’t known this, but Impa, the all-knowing history teacher, nods in agreement and amusement. Navi actually looks excited.

“I want to become a historian so I can learn all about those legends,” she says. “And Link said it would be a good idea.”

That, I mentally comment, is because Link is a perfect god whose kindness rivals with that of a saint.

Rather than walk away and go insane with stress, I make small talk with Navi and Impa, who manage to distract me for the most part of half an hour. That is, until it gets too close to the final verdict, and when all the ministers start to trickle back out, one by one, carefully not looking at either Ganondorf or myself, in order not to induce false hopes, and when I know that the only ones left inside the room are the impartial judges, my anxiety is impossible to control.

Fifteen minutes to go, now, before I know how my future will turn out. Will I be queen of Hyrule, or will I return to Lakeside with only my father’s fortune as proof of my heritage? What kind of a step is that, anyway, to spend a whole month ―oh, it seems like so much more― of your life learning how to be something without even knowing if you’ll actually get the spot? There’s something distinctly unfair about it all.

What would have happened if Ganondorf Dragmire had managed to have me killed? Would he have taken the role of king by default? What sort of psycho gets his political adversaries killed? The question eats away at me and I’m glad I was too nervous to eat, because right now I have the distinct feeling that I could puke.

It doesn’t help that Ganondorf Dragmire keeps sending me both glares and contemptuous smirks; like he already knows he won. Frankly, I really hate him. If only there was a way to prove he tried to have me killed! If only, and then we’d be set!

No. What am I talking about? I’d be set. Why do I so easily assume that Link will be with me, if I know he won’t? I should stop deluding myself already. No matter what happens, I’ll never see him again. Tomorrow is his last day. Tomorrow is the coronation.

The fifteen minutes I have left to wait are the longest of my life. They seem to drag themselves by sluggishly, as though my future isn’t on the line at all.

When Rauru finally re-emerges from the adjacent room, it’s like everyone suddenly takes in a collective breath. Journalists are eagerly filming every second of this historical moment, five cameras are trained on my face, and as such, I try not to look too ill, while Rauru goes back up onto the makeshift stage and takes a deep breath.

Then, he smiles politely, like he’s saying, ‘Well, glad that part’s over, eh, chaps?’ which kind of makes me even more nervous.

Into the microphone, he says, very calmly and, I notice, as though he’s trying to hide his own anxiety, “I’d like our two candidates to please come up here for the official announcement. In this envelope,” he says, showing everyone a plain, white cardboard envelope, “is the result of the peoples’ representatives’ votes.”

I turn to look back at Link, who shoots me a kind, if completely nervous, smile. He gives my arm a shaky, trembling squeeze, as though to give me strength, and then says, “Go on, Princess.”

I go. I don’t know how I manage to leave him, but I do. Every single step is agonizing. I reach the stage at the same time as Ganondorf, and we both climb the steps and reach Rauru from either side.

Well, I think. This is it.

This is everything I’ve worked for. This is everything my mother wanted. This is what every woman in the country probably would have wanted. This is my fairytale.

Let’s see if it ends like a tragedy.

Rauru makes a short, but even more anguishing speech. “I personally do not know the result of this vote, but on behalf of all the ministers, I wish to congratulate both our candidates on their exceptionally good behaviour and their exemplary campaigns.” I’d just like to say, ‘Yeah right!’ “This is truly a moment no one will forget, and it is probably a moment that will shape the face of Hyrule for generations to come. I am grateful to be here today and to be witness to such a historical turn.” He turns to Ganondorf and I. “Please,” he says, “Step forward and shake hands.”

Oh, bugger, I think, but I smile peacefully, even when Ganondorf's grip on my hand gets a bit tighter than it should be. This is how strong I’ve gotten, Ganondorf, and you better notice it.

When at last we both step back, Rauru takes a deep breath, and everyone in the audience suddenly seems to remember they have to breathe. There’s a sort of nervous laugh that goes through the audience.

“I wish to declare,” Rauru says, “that the vote was conducted in the most lawful manner: thereby respecting the right of every individual and thereby executed with fairness, equality and impartiality. The candidate to have gathered the majority of the forty ministers’ votes will automatically be titled as ruler-to-be, and will be crowned within the laws of Hyrule by the priests of this land.”

Something inside of me hurts, like all my innards have coiled into a tiny little dot in my stomach, where it writhes in pain.

“In light of all this,” Rauru finally says, bringing his fingers up to unseal the envelope, and I feel like everyone in the room is tensing up, “I will now reveal who will be Hyrule’s monarch as of tomorrow.”

The few seconds he takes to unseal the envelope are painfully long, and I get the sick impression that I’m wavering in uncertainty. I feel like I might pass out. Nothing else matters but the words in that envelope, nothing matters but the sound of paper being shredded inch by agonizing inch.

When Rauru takes out the sheet of paper and unfolds it, I see his eyes scanning the text there, and then…

He smiles.

Leaning into the microphone, he proudly announces, “The results are clear: eleven votes in favour of Ganondorf Dragmire, versus twenty-nine votes in favour of Zelda Harkinian. Our future monarch,” he says, over the rising chorus of excited screams and gasps, “is Zelda Harkinian.”

And before I know it, I’m bursting, exploding, like I’ve never felt so much stress relief at once, and I go to hug Rauru with the excitement of a three year-old and I am almost crying with joy, when suddenly Ganondorf Dragmire pushes Rauru aside and takes place behind the microphone.

This guy needs manners. I need aspirin. And the gods need to stop singing. Everyone suddenly hushes down, though I’m sure I can still hear Malon and Ruto’s excited squeals.

“I’d like to congratulate the winner,” Ganondorf Dragmire says, and from the tone of his voice, you’d think he just pronounced my death sentence. “And I wish her the best of luck in ruling this country,” his face darkens when he says, “in spite of the fact, her incompetence alone should disqualify her. I’m confident I’d do a better job.”

There’s an undignified hum coming from the assembly, suddenly broken by a voice that I recognize somewhat vaguely.

“Actually, you’d be disqualified immediately, considering you now have a criminal record.” Vaati. This is Vaati Winders, the crazy gossip columnist. What’s he doing here? What’s he talking about? He’s standing alongside a lot of policemen.

Complete confusion is spreading across the room, and Vaati Winders, with a sort of smug look I had never seen on him before, says: “Ganondorf Dragmire, you are under arrest for attempting murder on your political adversary.”

“What?” The tyrant at my side suddenly cries angrily. “How dare you―”

“No need to argue,” Darunia, my loyal security guard, suddenly says, from beside the police officers, “Zelda Harkinian’s gunman spilled the beans less than half an hour ago. That’s why I let the nice officers in. We can’t have a raving nutcase on the loose, can we?”

Which is kind of ironic because, um, Tingle is standing right there, but by gods, he’s now the least of my concerns.

And, just like that, before Ganondorf can even think of revolting himself, they’ve dragged him away, and I’m left standing on the stage, dumbfounded, elated, and suddenly cheered for unanimously.

Oh my gods! Mom, I’m going to be queen!