Obviously, the palace has to be immense.

That’s what I’m thinking as I step out of the taxi and see that the front yard is practically the size of a football field, except without white lines. A massive oval shaped fountain is gurgling in the middle of the driveway curve, with a spray at least three meters high. The palace alone is the size of a big shopping mall.

And it’s gorgeous, all in white stone, with oxidized copper roofing. There are even three big towers, the tallest one at the entrance with a big clock on its face. It strikes three in the afternoon even as the taxi driver dumps my two big suitcases beside me and says, “Good day, and good luck, ma’am.”

The clock bell chimes thrice. As the taxi drives away, I turn to Link, who picked up my suitcases, and ask, “Does it ring every hour? Even during the night?”

Link turns then squints up at the tower. Farore, he’s handsome. Eventually, he looks back at me, smirks, begins climbing the front steps of the palace, and answers, “Yes. It used to be every fifteen minutes, with two different chimes, one for hours and the other for quarters. But it drove too many ministers mad. So they reprogrammed it.”

No wonder. That thing is loud.

“And it takes a dozen madmen to get things to change around here?” I ask, hurrying to follow him up the steps, “Or just one or two?”

Link laughs. He doesn’t even break a sweat at carrying both my suitcases. And I know they’re heavy. I packed them myself.

“If that makes you uneasy, you’ll change things around here once you get titled. You’re working to become a queen, remember?”

“Not yet,” I remind him, rather, and we enter the immense foyer of the palace. The ceiling is three stories high, with two dark varnished wood balconies overhanging the beautiful tiled floor. Winding staircases rise to connect the first and second floor to the one above. They’re elegant and made to be descended while wearing a ball gown.

And the five-level chandelier is breathtaking.

Link hardly even glances at the stunning décor, though. He just carries my suitcases across the shining floor towards a side double door. I hurry to follow after him. It’s not like I want to get lost in here or anything.

An old woman with a red dusty apron appears in a perpendicular hallway. Actually, she’s more like a dusty old crone herself, with wide, bulging eyes. Her nose is immense and covers a wrinkled face. She sees Link hurrying by, and sends him a furious glare.

“Link Forester!” She croaks loudly, commandingly, and Link halts suddenly, cringing.

I pause, curious. This old, white haired woman looks like she’s dealt with mischief in her time, and it has trained what would have been a weak, gentle voice to become an ominous, threatening shriek.

Link turns to her, and for the first time, I see him looking like a five year-old preparing to be scolded. He smiles apologetically.

“Hey, Koume.”

“Link bloody Forester,” the hag screeches, hobbling over to him. She’s tiny, but her commanding presence makes her seem immense compared to the cowering Link. “You’re the one who ate all my apple cobbler last week, you little moblin!”

I can’t help but find the sight of tall, handsome Link Forester, looking smart in his Terminian suit, getting yelled at by a dwarf-like little witch with shaky, parchment hands and a little red apron. She hardly reaches his collarbone she’s so small, and that’s including her massive chignon!

“Koume,” Link says, raising his hands as though to calm her down, “look, I can explain―”

“Oh, don’t you start, you bokoblin, you!” Koume seethes, though she’s really looking funny rather than scary. “I asked all over and no one ‘fessed up. I prepared it specially for little miss Tetra and the boys and you ate all of it!”

Link is looking a bit exasperated, though I notice a little light of affection for the old windbag in his eyes. He says, trying to hide his amused fondness, “Koume, I’m sorry. But it was looking so delicious in the fridge, and Gonzo and I couldn’t help it.”

Koume apparently doesn’t know what to say to this. Her little bony fists are shaking in mid-air, and she’s twitching a bit, and then she screeches, “Gonzo! Oooh, when I get my hands on that big lump, he won’t run fast enough! Oooh, when Kotake hears about this―” She shakes a fist at Link, who smiles at her in sincere affection.

“Look, Koume,” he says, bending down to put an appeasing hand on her tiny shoulder, “what do you say Gonzo and the boys do some cooking with you to apologize for their gluttony? I’m sure Tetra will understand.”

“And what about you?” Koume squawks. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed you getting out of duty just like that, Link Forester!”

Link stands to full height again, and raises his hands apologetically. “I have work to do.” Then, as though he just remembered that I’m there, he turns to me and says, to Koume, “By the way, I’m sure you haven’t met Zelda Harkinian, the possible future queen of Hyrule?”

Koume simmers down and she looks behind Link at me. Her big, globular eyes examine me from head to toe. Then, her wrinkled face breaks into a toothy grin. She hobbles over to me, outstretching bony arms and hands, making a little squeaking noise beneath her breath.

When she hugs the contour of my waist, I’m surprised at her strength.

“Oh, the little missy is finally here!” She moves away from her hug and shoots Link a glare that makes his smile turn apprehensive. “Did you mistreat her, you little hooligan?”

“Can’t say I have,” Link says, obviously amused by Koume’s antics.

Koume still looks suspicious. She glances up at me, and I smile.

“Link was very kind to me.”

Koume grumbles, then says, a bit more audibly, “Wait ‘til he eats your cobbler, girl, and we’ll talk again. Little piglet.”

Link refrains from laughing and looks exasperated, “Oh, come on, Koume. It was just a pie, not a ten layer wedding cake.”

Koume throws her tiny, bony hands up in the air and screeches, “It was just a pie to you, Link Forester, but to a real alumnus of culinary arts, it was a delightful home-made apple cobbler baked in an antique stove! Children everywhere would kill for some of my home-made cobbler, you shenanigan!”

“Alright,” Link says, trying to calm her down just a bit, “alright, I get it. Look, if it makes you feel better, I’ll get up extra early tomorrow morning to help you make another one―”

Koume says rather dramatically, but I’m sure it’s a wink that she sent my way as she spoke, “You better.”

With a swirl of her red apron, Koume moves down the hallway where Link and I came from. By this point, I’m refraining from laughing out loud.

Link seems on the verge of saying something, when suddenly, I hear Koume, somewhere in the distance, cry out in a tortured voice, “No one understands my artistic talent!”

It’s all Link and I can do not to laugh until our sides burst.

And, really, this place actually seems like it might not be so bad after all. I miss Anju and Malon, of course, but maybe once I’m queen I can invite them over or something.

When finally our laughter subsides and Link can straighten up, though not without losing his mild grin ―which, as I’m sure I’ve already mentioned, makes him sinfully handsome, ― he confides, to me, “That was Koume Rova and, actually, Koume doesn’t know that Tetra and I split the cobbler between all of the assistants and the only reason no one confessed it is because Koume’s fury happens to be legendary.”

“I see,” I comment. “Was it worth it?”

Link looks up to the ceiling and says, with a little laugh that I smile at, “I’d gladly do it again.”

With a resolute smile, he prompts me to follow him again, and we continue down this luxurious, carpeted hallway in peach tones. Soon, we hear another female voice, though this one is radically younger, spunkier, and more controlled than anything Koume could possibly have mustered.

“… We can’t sit Darmani Stonefist next to Kaepora Gaebora, and you know it, Niko. Last time, Gaebora nearly bored him to tears with all his jabbering. If we do it again this year, heavens know what Darmani will resort to. No, you have to change him.”

Round the corner turns a young woman in a casual suit, holding a clipboard. Her bright blonde hair is pulled up in a messy bun, with her shirtsleeves rolled up. In her feet, instead of pumps, I see clean tan sandals. Her face is pretty, but a bit haughty. Her eyes are sharp like Link’s, but not nearly as mysterious. Slightly behind her, a small, thin, twitchy, pasty-skinned looking young man ―though he really looks more like a nervous boy with big teeth in bad need of orthodontia― is scurrying after her. He seems out of place next to this competent young woman. I assume this is Niko, the one she was speaking to.

The pretty girl looks up sharply, then, when she notices that she and Niko aren’t the only ones in the hallway. Her face lights up when she sees Link and she says, in an unmistakably teasing tone, “Link Forester. Have you managed to elude Koume for the moment or was she unusually accommodating today?”

“The latter,” Link says pleasantly. “I put her on Gonzo’s traces. Has he returned from Waker Islands yet?” To me, he whispers, “She’s also guilty for the cobbler incident.”

Which means that this is Tetra, the prime minister’s granddaughter…

Wait. Hold up.

This is Tetra? Wow. By Din, she’s far more presentable than me. She has this space-consuming presence that makes me feel self-conscious. Okay, let’s face it, she’s way prettier than anything I could hope to be today.

Tetra keeps on smirking as she stops in front of us. “Gonzo is due to come back tomorrow.”

At her side, Niko gives a little squeak and says, “With Aryll.”

Tetra’s eyes widen as though she was just reminded of something. “Oh! Yes. Your sister Aryll is coming over for the month. She called while you were away. Gonzo is escorting her here.”

Wow. That’s a lot of new information right there. Link has a sister? It just goes to show how much I don’t know about the know-it-all.

“And…” Tetra trails off as she steps aside to examine me behind Link. Her eyes do a head to foot scan of my figure, than she smiles a bit and asks, “I suppose I’m looking at Zelda Harkinian?”

I nod weakly, because her self-confidence is ten times mine and there is no way I could be queen if someone like Tetra wasn’t chosen for the role.

Tetra, though, seems pleased with me, for some reason, and outstretches her hand. “Tetra Piraetes, native of Waker Islands.” Oh, so that’s why she isn’t in my place. She isn’t a native Hylian! “I’m head assistant to the prime minister and perhaps your future personal secretary.” She looks at Niko then, and, in the same efficient tone, says, “This is Niko Young. He’s just here for a summer job as my help, but he’s good.”

Niko’s pale face seems to grow flush with pleasure. Tetra’s eyes seem genuinely caring there, for a moment, and I realise that she’s not just efficiency and amusement rolled into a pretty shell. She seems to actually appreciate her team. I wonder if they’re all as nervous as Niko, though.

To Link, she says, “I trust she’s ready to be presented to Impa, Sheik and my grandfather?” Link nods obligingly. Satisfied, she explains to me, “Rauru Luz, your prime minister, is my grandfather.”

I nod and smile. “So I was told.”

Tetra sends grinning Link a glare. “Alright, buster. What else did you tell her?”

“Nothing,” Link says. “Much.”

Tetra rolls her eyes and takes my arm with hers. I’m surprised at her familiarity, but it all seems fitting. She looks like a confident, arm-grabbing person, really. To me, she confides, “Link’s tendency to know everything is rather upsetting. Especially when he doesn’t always feel compelled to share what he knows.”

I stare at her for a moment, then nearly melt. “I am so happy to hear I’m not the only one left in the dark,” I say, earning myself a disgruntled, surprised look from Link.

Tetra laughs. “I think we might get along, you and I.”

“Hey,” Link exclaims when Tetra begins dragging me down the hallway, Niko and he following with my luggage, “When exactly did I fail to come forward with information?”

Tetra looks up as she keeps me walking a steady stride, “Let’s see. How about last year, at the New Year’s function, about Dampé Keeper, and then the Summer Festival in Kakariko about Skull Tulla and that time at the Colossus―”

“Okay, fine, I get it,” Link grumbles. I can’t help but find all his arguments with the palace staff humorous. He seemed on top of everything on the plane, but it’s nice to know that some others might actually better him in arguments ―and that they’re on my side.

Returning her attention to me, Tetra says, “So. May I call you Zelda for now?” I nod, and she smiles a pretty grin. “Great. I’m glad you’re here. As Link may have told you, we’ve got plenty of work on our hands to ensure that the ministers of the Royalty Party accept your coronation unconditionally. Of course, considering that you’re basically coming out of nowhere ―no offence,” she interrupts herself.

“None taken,” I smile, trying to keep up with her strides.

“Oh, good. Well, anyway, considering that you’re coming out of nowhere, we can’t just make you queen. As I’m sure you’ve concluded, we have to present you to the people, make you a sort of superstar in a month only, because you have to surpass anyone who wants the same title. Now,” she hurriedly adds when she sees my wide-eyed expression, “don’t worry. We’ve got it all figured out. I’ve already enlisted the help of a couple of celebrities to boost your popularity amongst the masses.”

“I have to surpass someone?” This is new. Why didn’t Link mention this? “Who is it I’m competing against?” I ask, a bit breathlessly, still trying to keep up.

But Tetra doesn’t seem to hear my question. She says, “As for your status in comparison to other royals and presidents, we’ve decided to organize, as Link might have told you already, a set of events and parties for you to mingle in.”

Glancing at Niko, who seems to take notes on everything that is being said, she orders, “Before I forget, note that we haven’t extended an invitation to Quill Feathers, the ambassador of Waker Islands. Have Senza do it; he’s good with words.”

Niko nods, and breathlessly tries to keep up as he jots down everything Tetra just commanded. She turns back to me and continues on her thought train.

“Until then, you’ll be taking lessons and doing a couple of conferences for anxious journalists. It’s nothing you can’t handle, I’m sure.”

One can only hope. They still haven’t told me whom I’m competing against. I glance at Link and wonder why he never mentioned that minor detail. Why in Hyrule did he act as though the title was already mine?

Jerk. I can’t believe I got trapped like this.

We reach a big ballroom at the end of the peach hallway and my anger dies temporarily. It’s in deep red and gold, a mix of grandiose and delicate and other words that can’t come to me at the moment because part of my brain switched off at the sheer beauty of this hall.

“This is the red ballroom,” Tetra explains when she notices my awe. “It was redecorated in the third age and recently restored. It’s used mainly for small celebrations. For big things like your upcoming coronation, we’ll be using the Gold Ballroom. You might have seen the double doors leading to it under the staircases in the lobby.”

I shake my head. “I may have seen them, but I was busy admiring the lobby,” I admit with honesty.

Tetra smiles cheekily. “You really haven’t been to big places before, have you?” She sighs. “It’s just as well. The last thing we’d want is for you to grow cynical and jaded.”

I notice out the ballroom windows that there’s a big lake in the back. “Is that a park?” I can’t keep the excitement out of my voice.

Tetra looks in the same direction as me. “It’s the back of the palace grounds. There’s a small lake and a massive rose garden. In the spring, we host a flower show with arrangement contests. And every year, there’s a new flower variety presented. Maybe if you’re chosen as queen and that everyone likes you, you can get a flower named after you.”

“A flower named Zelda?” I say in surprise. “That would be strange, wouldn’t it?”

“Hardly,” Tetra shrugs. “People in other countries do it all the time.” She turns back to look at Link and, entertained, asks, “You doing fine back there?”

Link, still carrying my luggage, glares at her, though he still can’t hide a note of good-humour out of his eyes. “You’re begging to be throttled, so be careful what stick you poke me with.”

“A ten-foot one,” Tetra answers back with a sunny smile. Then, to Niko, she says, “We have to check what flavour of punch the caterers will be serving. Ask Nudge to call them.” Niko, as obediently as ever, writes down exactly what she said. “Also,” she continues, “go get my grandfather and, if you find them, Sheik and Impa―”

“Beat you to it,” a young man’s voice says. I turn my head and see a thin but muscled blonde, his bright brown, almost red eyes looking a bit sleepy. “And, F.Y.I., Impa’s not in the palace right now.” Hey, he’s cute. His blonde forelocks fall a bit over his eyes. When he speaks, it’s like he’s being lyrical, even though he’s clearly Link’s age and uses the same lingo as Malon and I.

He’s standing in the doorway we’ve just reached on the other side of the ballroom.

Tetra makes a ‘there you are’ face and grabs his arm, still holding onto me. To me, she introduces, “This is Sheik Strike, the elusive riding instructor. He’ll be teaching you how to look smart while trying to control a horse. If you can tame him first.”

With a lazy roll of his eyes, Sheik says, “You’re exaggerating.”

“Quit the complaints,” Tetra says. To Niko, she repeats, “Can you still go get Rauru, Niko? We’ll be in Zelda’s apartments in two minutes.”

Nodding, Niko hurries past Sheik and disappears beyond the doorway. Sheik nods at Link, who seems to return the greeting. He says, “May I join your happy party?”

Link smirks. “You get to carry luggage for that generous offer.”

I refrain a smile as Link and Sheik engage in another of the palace’s apparently common arguments. Tetra squeezes my arm, dragging my attention back to her.

“We had your rooms renovated for a modern touch.” She says. “Right this way.”

I follow her into what seems like a dark green dining room with enough places for thirty guests all year round and out another door with a long white hallway. The windows here, luminous, give onto the lake and park as well. But instead of heading down this hallway, she leads me up a broad white marble stair. Here, another wide, luminous hallway stretches out, following the general outline of the ground floor one. We walk down it, our footsteps muffled by a thin, pink carpet. A dozen closed doors on the side opposite the windows trail by as we walk.

Finally, Tetra stops in front of the last door in the hallway. From her pocket, she pulls a set of keys and unlocks the old-fashioned door. I expect it to creak when she pushes it open, but it doesn’t. It seems they oiled it on top of everything.

“These are your quarters,” she says as I step into what looks like a master suite from an expensive hotel. On one whole side of the room, immense windows let in the natural light, but they’re half covered by opaque beige curtains. The walls are a warm beige colour, with a high ceiling. The floor, without the carpet, is dark hardwood, recently re-varnished. The furniture is big and comfortable, not antique, but modern, in dark beige. There are a couple of dark purple articles here and there, to add colour, but it’s not overwhelming.

In the first part of the room, where Tetra and I are standing, I see a massive flat screen television, with all necessary components. I notice a closed laptop on a rectangular coffee table. There’s a huge library of movies and books against the wall.

In the back of the room, I see a king-sized bed with thick coverlets and enough pillows to build a fort. Next to the bed, on a square table, is a wireless phone with a bedside lamp. Beyond that is a huge bathroom with dark marble fixtures you only see in decoration magazines.

“We figured the queen should have the best,” Tetra says. I turn to her, still speechless. I’ve been bombarded with so much information in the past half-hour that I get a pang of fatigue.

Link and Sheik enter with my suitcases and both smirk nearly identical smirks at my stupefaction.

“Not bad, eh?” Sheik comments. “We had trouble deciding on the colour of the curtains.”

“It’s perfect,” I breathe. It’s hard to say much more. I’ve never been surrounded by such luxury before. If Anju could see this, if Malon could share this, it really would be great.

There’s a couple of hurried footsteps in the hallway outside my room and soon, Niko is back with us, followed by an elderly, wise-looking man.

I can only assume this man is Rauru Luz, my ―possible― future prime minister. Somehow, that makes me emotional. He looks sagely, with white hair and a bald spot. His sort of aged face seems truly benevolent, with wrinkles on his cheeks and at the corners of his kind eyes, like he’s smiled too much and it’s left marks on his face. Right now, he isn’t smiling, but I assume it’s because he’s just too caught up in the moment, like me.

Then, suddenly, he notices me, and smiles ―finally― in relief. Coming forward and engulfing my hand in one of his large ones, he says, honestly, “Miss Harkinian. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

“Likewise,” I say, a bit awkwardly, because, really, how often does one meet their prime minister without prior preparation?

Rauru doesn’t seem to care about my unease. He turns to Link and asks, “When do we start the lessons?”

Link, apparently familiar with all these people who, for now, are strangers to me, says, “Tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” I squeak, and this, for some reason, causes everyone else but me to laugh good-naturedly.

Oh, come on. Why don’t I get a day’s vacation at least? I most certainly deserve one.

Still, as they continue laughing, I feel something warm inside me. Okay, so maybe I don’t get weekends and the lessons are going to be tough, but at least they’re offering me a good environment and future life. There’s little more a girl could ask for. Right?

Reality check: I’m still miffed that Link never mentioned that there was a race for the throne. Had I known, I wouldn’t have bothered entering. Realistically, there is no way I can win.

“So, where is Impa, exactly?” Tetra suddenly asks.

Niko, looking apprehensive, mumbles something along the lines of, “She’s downtown at her office. She had reports to fill in.”

Oh, that’s right. My fourth teacher, Impa Shades, is M.I.A. Everyone makes some sort of ‘ah’ noise, as though such a thing had hardly ever occurred to them. That just kind of makes me apprehensive. Even though Impa seems to get along with these people ―to which follows the conclusion that she can’t be all bad― how do I know she won’t make my courses a living hell?

And wow. That’s another thing. I haven’t known any of these people more than half an hour ―Link not included; he’s always the exception― and I’m already making assumptions regarding my future here? As Talon Ranch would warn me, I need to slow down before some twelve-wheeler knocks me over at the crossing.

Hm. Regionalisms. How I don’t miss your inelegancy.

Still, I think Talon may have been just that much wiser. What if I get all excited and, before I know it, the metaphorical twelve-wheeler comes barrelling down on me and I can’t put the brakes on? What will I do then?

I think I should put my first day here to use and plan an escape route. Just in case. And, who knows? Maybe it’ll actually come in handy.

“Well,” Tetra finally says after another bout of conversation to which I didn’t even participate, “I have some more arrangements to make. I trust if you have any questions or requests, you’ll call me.” She indicates my phone. “My number is pre-programmed. I’m on call at all times.” She shoots me a last cheerful smile and clip-clops out of my suite, still looking as efficient as she did when she introduced herself, Niko hot on her heels.

I think I’ll have a course added to my schedule: ‘How to Look Competent’. If I don’t manage actual efficiency, I can at least fake my way through it. Tetra should be my mentor.

“You can ask Link for night calls instead, if you have problems, actually,” Sheik says calmly, interrupting my thoughts, though I’m sure he sounds a bit sly. “He’s in the rooms to your left when you come out of here.”

Link shoots Sheik a thin smile. Then, to me, he says, a bit more pleasantly, “I should be available at all times for the upcoming month, if there’s ever a problem.”

There’s a tiny part of me that’s imagining all sorts of nighttime scenarios. I wonder if he sleeps in boxers…?

“Miss Harkinian, I’m really looking forward to our lessons together,” Rauru says earnestly, with the kindness of an old man who’s just dying to share his knowledge.

I can at least smile at him and say, “As I am, Mister Luz.”

“Actually,” Link says, “I reserved tomorrow’s courses for Etiquette and Posture. But you’re sure to have many courses with Rauru later on this month. I certainly hope you’re not too upset, Rauru?”

“Of course not,” Rauru says. I’m surprised at the totally obvious civility that everyone shows Rauru. Sure, he’s a senior member, but he’s not exactly going to be affecting my popularity standing, except for the few courses and everything.

“Um…” I ask, and everyone turns to listen to me intently. This never happened to me before. I’m a bit in shock at the moment. “Who manages the country while I’m waiting to be crowned?”

Link, Sheik and Rauru exchange looks awkwardly. I wonder briefly if I asked a taboo question. Still, I figure it’s my right to know, since I could be the future ruler and all.

Hey, that sounds so weird to think of. Me? Future ruler? Hah.

“Well,” Rauru says, diplomatically, “Since the Royalty Party was democratically elected, they’re the ones leading the country.”

“And,” I prompt slowly, wondering why they’re all looking so edgy, “who is the leader of this Royalty Party?”

Once again, the men exchange glances. Then, Link steps forward and places a hand on my upper arm and says, “Well, you see, Zelda, when we were discussing in the plane the people on the guest lists who might represent a danger to you…”

I feel something inside me coil in slow understanding and anticipating disbelief.

“Well,” Link slowly says, “one of them, an ambitious politician by the name of Ganondorf Dragmire, is currently ruling the country as steward. He is, coincidentally, the one who thinks he deserves to be king in your place.”