Chapter Text
I.
The knighting ceremony was simply a pleasantry, written in gold ink on an ancient scroll somewhere in the Royal Library, buried in an otherwise unremarkable aisle where other such ceremonial scripts and proceedings were kept. It was similar to the ones that had been performed countless times throughout the ages—after all, he was just another link in the chain of knights who laid their lives down for the Royal Family of Hyrule.
Link hardly tolerated the thick, stuffy royal uniform, feeling pompous in the rich blues and metallic golds. Although he had long since abandoned the greens of a people that were never his, this specialized garb somehow felt even more foreign to his skin. Sweat was building at the nape of his neck, and when his eyes met the reds of Sheik's where he was seated on the dais to the left, he found the blatant amusement there was doing nothing to quell the irritation swelling in his chest.
This is what he got for humoring Zelda and Hyrule’s traditions.
She stood before him in one of the most impressive gowns he'd seen her in yet. It was all golds and purples and tedious, ornate stitching—something Link would normally admire on a day he wasn't wrapped up like a gibdo. He could still recall his own stupid, shocked expression when one of the maids pulled him in front of a full-length mirror to gawk at himself. Now he could only sigh and accept his fate, trying not to fidget or throw his new sword at Sheik while Zelda read from a lengthy scroll that nearly reached the floor.
Behind him sat half of Hyrule. Many were the people who fled to surrounding kingdoms Link had never heard of the moment the King of Hyrule fell. Yet, Zelda forgave them because they were supposedly protecting their resources from the imminent war as Ganondorf's rule had spread.
Link didn't forgive them because they were cowards.
Anyone was allowed in the ceremony, and a good portion of the people behind him were the friends and allies who had supported him during his journey two years ago. They gave him red potions, a bed to sleep on, food to shovel down as though it were his last meal, and companionship when the horror of the temples crept into his resolve.
He was glad for their presence; they likely knew how unlike him this all was. Zelda knew, too. Sheik definitely knew. But he would suffer it for Hyrule, the kingdom he nearly died countless times to save.
Yesterday he had turned twenty, finally of age to become Royal Guardsman of Hyrule—the Royal Guardsman of Hyrule. Behind the flashy title, it simply appointed him as General of the Royal Armies. The ceremony would ensure Link had no superiors save the Queen herself. That part was a welcome change considering how much his commanding officer, Captain Vega, was a test of his rather limited patience. Vega was determined to expose Link's supposed arrogance and privilege as the Hero of Time, and he was about to send Link over the edge with all the pointless, tiring training.
When questioned, Vega claimed the exercises were simply to make Link more equal with other warriors—the reality is that it was really just to knock Link down the ranks and prove that being a “divine hero” did nothing for you in the real world.
As though Link knew nothing of the real world.
He was pulled from his reverie by the sound of expensive fabric rustling, and Link realized everyone had risen from their seats. He focused on Zelda and found her smirking knowingly as she retrieved his new blade from the attendant who held its intricate sheath beside her. Of course, she knew he had zoned out. She had that older-sister look on her face as though she had just caught him red-handed and was fully prepared to blackmail him for this later.
"Kneel, Link, Hero of Time," she said in that regal voice he often teased her for.
He fought the urge to stick out his tongue like a child, but only because the entire Royal Cabinet and Royal Guard Captains sat behind her. He stole a look at Captain Vega and basked in the fury on the mustached man's face.
Link kneeled a bit awkwardly, feeling the impossibly thick fabric tug in places that made him flash a baleful glare at the woman he was pledging fealty to. She suppressed a laugh as she approached him, the sword that had been custom-made for him glinting in her hands.
Named the Moon Blade, it had been crafted precisely to his specifications. The primary ore was Sky Iron, a rare metal from the Goddesses themselves during Hyrule’s Sky Era. Other ores from different parts of Hyrule were also impregnated into it: minerals from Death Mountain, Lake Hylia, Kokiri forest, and sand from the Gerudo Desert. It felt warm and familiar in his grip, a reminder of his great dislike for the Master Sword.
The next time he wielded that fabled blade would be too soon. With it had only came the pain and horror of the war, memories that nearly destroyed him after the conclusion of Ganon’s occupation. The Master Sword’s hilt had been intentionally uncomfortable to keep him alert any time he wielded it. In contrast, the hilt of the Moon Blade had been perfectly shaped to Link's hand, and it had been carefully wrapped with the soft, thick leather from his old Kokiri garb.
Zelda had wanted to embed jewels or other precious metals, but Link only asked for one stone: Moonstone.
He wouldn't tell her why. He couldn't tell her that it was his boon in the years of his outcast youth and the frightening nights during the war. He had Sheik’s steady and occasional presence, of course, but the moon had remained his only reliable tether to purpose in the long watches of the night.
Now two large, round glowing moonstones sat in the guard cross on either side to remind him of its omnipresent light in the bleakest of times and on the darkest of nights. Each time Zelda shifted the weapon, a flash of luminescent sky blue would gleam through the pearly white stones.
Down the blade were ancient prayers engraved in ancient Hylian that would grant the Moon Blade many of the Master Sword’s same protections and magical abilities. Ancient Hylian and its inherent magical properties weren’t a strong suit of Link’s, so Zelda and Sheik had spent weeks turning Link’s many requests into the necessary equations and prayers to be etched into the blade.
As Zelda held the Moon Blade aloft, she spoke the traditional words of a newly sanctioned weapon. "Courage, Wisdom, and Power. By the power of the Three, this blade is blessed, sealed, and unbreakable."***
The blade gleamed sharply in the ethereal light descending from the glass-domed ceiling above them, the reflected glow trembling in a dance of prismatic colors on the walls.
Zelda raised the sword and pulled his attention back to herself. She tapped it a little too hard on each of his shoulders, back and forth, until it counted three times, symbolizing the Goddess's blessings. As she did this, her voice rang out through the chamber, "By the power of the Three and the Royal Family of Hyrule, I give thee title of High Royal Guardsman of the Crown."
She held the sword flat in her soft, slender hands and said, so loudly it almost made him jump, "Rise, Link, High Royal Guardsman of the Crown, Hero of Time, and take your sword, the Moon Blade. May it aid you as you protect our Kingdom."
Link grinned at her; the next bit would definitely be the most ridiculous part of the monkey show. He took the blade from her and held it high above his head, pointing towards the glass ceiling and the heavens above. Then, like Zelda made him rehearse a thousand times—as though he didn't know how to handle a sword—he turned and, facing the crowd, swung the blade in several different patterns meant to pay tribute to the Three. Part of him wished he'd miscalculate his swings and cut a hole in his stifling uniform, but he finished with a flourish, the thick fabric still intact.
Cheers deafened him momentarily. As everyone rose to their feet, clapping as loud as their hands would allow, Link was reminded of how uncomfortable it all made him. Unfortunately, saving the kingdom brought him a rather embarrassing fan club, most of which were females and clearly present by the croons of their voices. Nevertheless, he endured the attention and, despite constantly making a fool out of himself, had somehow garnered even more admiration from them. Royalty clapped reservedly while commoners whooped and hollered as they did in the pubs. Link cracked a grin when the owner of the bazaar, clearly drunk, pumped a fist in the air and accidentally knocked a Duke in the back of the head.
And that was when he saw her.
She sat in the front row, a bit to his right. Tall and slender, every curve of her body was as though it were carefully crafted so. She wore a deep green gown, threads of silver running in delicate filigree through the forest-colored fibers. Her hair was pitch black, piled on her head in a mix of braids and twists that danced with thin silver ribbons. And amidst the display sat a delicate white crown bearing a crescent moon.
Link knew enough about rank to spot her as royalty, and she was clearly a Queen, judging by the spires that wound around the circlet rather than the open tiaras Princesses or Duchesses wore. Queen of what? He had no idea, but her dark eyes captured him and held his gaze like a snare. They were such a dark brown, endless and unreadable, framed by the thickest lashes and the finest, highest brows. Something about her energy felt ancient and angry, the vibrations of it quivering despite the applause. Her entire face was fascinating, like he could look forever and still not see everything about it.
Never had he noticed so much about a woman in such fine detail. He forced his eyes away and smiled at the crowd, trying to shake off the feeling that she had somehow made him look at her.
As with all royal events, a bothersome, boisterous reception and ball followed the ceremony. It would last well into the night, and it was only just past noon as Link finished changing into a much lighter uniform. It was very much like the one he'd be wearing from now on; still a little more embellished but nowhere near as stiff as the ceremonial garb.
As a warrior, nothing was more worrying than being stuffed into clothing one couldn't fight well in. At least he was now in a loose tunic and pants instead of stuffy velvets. Zelda gave him new boots—he had still been wearing the same boots he saved Hyrule in, and this change, at least, he was grateful for. They were a bit flashy for his taste, but as he'd been told many times, he was the High Royal Guardsman now.
"You can afford to be flashy," Zelda had insisted when he gave them a doubtful look.
Link ran his fingers through his hair, which was still damp from lingering sweat, and found himself missing his hat and missing his fairy. Navi would frequently make her home in his hair. Now nothing but scalp met his fingers.
There was a knock at the door, and he turned to see Sheik walk in, not waiting for an invitation. He was still wearing his own royal uniform, which was not even in the realm of stiff and immobilizing, much to Link's irritation. While Sheik typically wore his simple Royal Bodyguard armor as Impa had, today he wore light armor in white and gold at Zelda's request. It was the strangest juxtaposition against his dark skin and scarlet eyes. As always, the cowl veiled his face, though Zelda had managed to pull his hair back in a ponytail despite some grumbling—something Link had spent the morning yanking on whenever he had the chance.
"Very impressive display, Link," Sheik said, using a tone in which no one would hear the sarcasm save himself or Zelda. He leaned against an armoire as Link rolled his eyes and strapped the Moon Blade around his torso. "I didn't know you were so talented at flipping around a sword like a color guardsman."
"I technically outrank you, Sheik," Link quipped with a smirk. "Better watch that tone."
He knew Sheik was giving him a rueful look just from his eyes. But, of course, Sheik didn't speak with any specific tone most of the time; they just knew each other that well. Link sat through Sheik's much quieter ceremony for Royal Bodyguard last year and made fun of him the entire time. Now, he supposed, Sheik was finally taking his revenge.
They'd been friends for three years, though Link could hardly consider them friends during the war. Sheik had been dispatched via the then Princess to be Link's guide through the temples, nothing more. Zelda read the ancient prophecy and relayed the information to the Hero through Sheik. The whole arrangement had been annoyingly vague and tight-lipped, but Sheik had just been following orders, and the Princess had just been trying to keep as many distractions at bay as possible. The less Link knew, the safer they all were from Ganon’s spies. After all, there would be plenty of time for friendship after the battles.
It took a year for all of Hyrule to finally exit crisis. Although most of Ganondorf's beasts had either fled or been slain, the average monsters and animals took advantage of a weakened kingdom. Entire villages were destroyed, their people displaced and starving. Link was given two weeks off to recover from the war, and Sheik tended to him between the long list of emergencies. It was then that they were finally able to speak as equals, and it was explained to Link that Sheik had just been Zelda's liaison for the past year.
"That makes sense, I suppose," Link agreed. "All that script was too," he waved his arms theatrically, "dramatic for someone like you."
Sheik had just glared balefully at him—same as he was now, actually.
"What?" Link laughed, wincing a bit when it bothered a still-mending rib as he sat back against the railing of his hospital bed. "I mean, you look too stoic to say things like 'The passion of friendship will soon blossom into a righteous power.'"
Link finally made the Sheikah smile, a slight crinkle forming around those dark red eyes. This was the point, Link was sure, that he and Sheik finally became friends.
He found himself sharing most of his meals with the Sheikah after that. They would take assignments together, spar and train at least twice a day, and sometimes meet on the balcony in the castle's highest tower to stargaze. After two years of this kind of companionship, he'd determined that Sheik was the closest friend he'd ever had. Of course, it didn’t hurt that they both shared quiet, sarcastic, and stubborn personality traits. But aside from the simple things, they both lived with a certain darkness that few else could relate to. No one had endured the death and destruction Link had seen except Sheik, and it blinded them together in a worn and weathered way.
They especially tended to gravitate towards one another in social gatherings, much like the party they were now in transit to. Neither of them really knew what to do with themselves at things like this. Both of them had broken delicate champagne glasses on several occasions, the grace of lords a mystery to them when it came to entertaining royalty. Inevitably some slightly intoxicated Duchess or Princess ended up finding the nerve to try and "woo" either of them (sometimes both of them), much to Zelda's amusement.
Rich, dainty women would eye Link like a painting on display and talk politics like he was the authority on monarch gossip. Or they would try and coerce Sheik into revealing his face—always to no avail—despite the countless times he explained the seriousness of Sheikah tradition. Those people were drawn to both of them for whatever reason, undoubtedly because they were trying to stay under the radar, thus making them stick out like sore thumbs.
There was absolutely no chance of avoiding any of it this time, however, Link accepted grimly.
As soon as they entered one of the main party halls, Duchess Morsa (Link was unfortunately all too familiar with her) looped her little arm around his and dragged him off to the spirits. When she learned of Link's moderately low alcohol tolerance, compared to her well-practiced one, she made a point to exploit it. Sheik waved goodbye with amused eyes as Link was pulled away with a glare of betrayal.
But it didn't matter; soon enough, the same would happen to Sheik. Especially if Queen Alasin of Esna was there. She had taken a very uncomfortable liking to Sheik last year—uncomfortable for Sheik and everyone in the vicinity. The Queen made a habit of finding any excuse to grope him or whisper in his ear, sometimes too unpredictable for Sheik to avoid. And it was an excellent source of material to tease the Sheikah about during their sparing matches.
Nothing was more challenging than an angry Sheikah warrior, and Link still hadn't managed to beat him yet since the war.
"Come along, High Royal Guardsman, let me get you your first drink!" Morsa insisted. It was clear she already had at least three drinks in her. With each glass, the volume of her voice got just a bit louder, and by the end of the night (which Link would not be present for), she'd probably be screaming. Or singing. And which was worse, Link was still not entirely sure.
"Just some mead is fine," Link said. Morsa just laughed and shoved strong whiskey in his hands. He stifled a groan; he needed to get this whiskey away from him. And her. "My lady, would you mind getting me some fruits from the platter? I've been starving since the ceremony."
Morsa, too eager to please, immediately obliged and set off like it were a royal quest. Link quickly turned to the bartender, relieved to see it was a friend of his from the kitchens, ready to swap his drink for a light mead in the same shaped glass. He thanked her graciously and took a drink just as Morsa returned with nearly the whole platter of fruits.
Thank the Three Zelda was only asking him to stay until sundown.
When Link finally managed to get away from Morsa via a very young and cocky-looking Baron, he sought out Zelda. She was surrounded by a few people, all practically begging for some new export trades. Hyrule was diverse and rich in so many resources that other kingdoms fought for dominance in trade with them like they were the equivalent of a gold mine. It was the only thing that saved Hyrule from the aftermath of war through the generations. Zelda found it funny how openly desperate they were now.
Her father used to take this political dance so seriously; she, on the other hand, just played with them. Link warned that one day it would bite her in the behind, but her only reply was, "That's why I have you and Sheik."
Zelda caught his eye and beckoned him over. As he approached, she said, "Gentlemen, forgive me. I wish to speak with my new Guardsman. We shall set a date to discuss these matters. In the meantime, please do enjoy the party."
Her big blue eyes lulled them into submission as the men seemed ready to protest—they really had no chance. Zelda still played the serene, beautiful, and persuasive young girl card so well that it was a constant reminder she was literally reincarnated for that purpose. Like Link, she was barely a whole person before being thrust into a role and duty beyond her own life. The murder of her father and the start of the war locked her fate ten years prior. And since the crown had touched her head two years ago, Zelda had shouldered the weight with more grace than Link could have managed.
Sure, she was sometimes overwhelmed, but her light-hearted attitude towards the dirtiest of politics saved her sanity on the worst days. She hand-picked the best Cabinet Hyrule had seen in half a century, and he and Sheik had done everything they could to ease the load.
For the first year after the war, Link and Sheik became Zelda's liaisons during the great reconstruction of the kingdom when various emergencies forced her to remain at the castle. They did tours around the kingdom, helping rebuild towns, overseeing the peaceful distribution of resources, and clearing out the monsters that lingered in the shadows. Through all of that, they tried to keep from Zelda how bad things actually were. Every time they reported to the castle or passed through while making their rounds, they never spoke of the graves or the blank-faced widows and orphans. They never mentioned the amputees or the bodies.
Maybe it was to spare her from the guilt she still carried for not stopping Ganondorf and saving her father when they were young. Her prophecy had been moving into motion before their eyes, but she still had difficulties accepting that the war had been destined to happen. Nevertheless, she was strong and learned to move from her grief. But, when they could spare her the realities of war, they did.
Zelda knew, though. She saw right through them when they told her all was going well, that the damage wasn't near as bad as they thought it would be. Zelda was too clever for that and sent every resource she could to every part of Hyrule and stretched the ones in Castle Town thin.
She looked at him now with those same keen eyes.
"Calm down, Link. You're having far too much fun," Zelda teased, sitting back on her throne and fiddling with the cushions behind her. A frown passed her forehead in distaste. "I hate this thing. I hate sitting on a throne during a party. I feel like my father."
Link just laughed. Although these things were expected of royalty, Zelda could never stomach them. The former King, Link had come to learn, had been a terrible and cruel ruler. His lust for riches and superiority had spilled blood on the already blood-stained history of Hyrule. His great mistrust for the races of his land had led to a civil war and ultimately the death of thousands, Link's own parents included. Zelda even admitted to the speculation that perhaps the Goddesses had allowed Ganon's dark reign to force all the filth to be rinsed away in divine prophecy.
However, the man who raged pointless wars was very much hidden from his princess. It was not until after his death that the cloud of ignorance was lifted from Zelda and her father's atrocities. But she had still known him as the type to be paraded around on a heavy throne carried by ten men and to hire court jesters and musicians to entertain him.
Link knew well that Zelda would likely spend most of her rule endeavoring to become her father's antithesis.
Even now, she wanted to ride a horse like a man, dance with everyone else at the party, and shop in Castle Town among the commoners. The Cabinet's only drawback was the old standards they held her to. Zelda was the Queen; she could do what she pleased. But the Cabinet still had a say and influenced what laws passed and what laws didn't. The Queen couldn't spend her entire reign arguing with her own Cabinet all the time; sacrifices had to be made.
"You're not your father," Link assured her, pushing Zelda's elbow out of the way so he could sit on the armrest of her white and gold throne. Before them danced royalty and commoners, much to the former's distaste. Zelda insisted on having one mixed party hall, while her father would've had everyone separated by class.
"Thank you for tolerating that ceremony, Link," Zelda said, her voice suddenly quiet. "It means a lot to me."
He frowned. "It wasn't a big deal. My only real complaint was that damn uniform." Link nudged her with his arm. "What's that face for?"
She looked troubled. "I've just been having strange dreams lately." Link leaned back to show he was listening, and she shrugged slightly. "I don't know. They're vague. But they all feature the same things: an elephant, a crescent moon on golden armor, and a heart with horns."
Elephants? Link had only seen a drawing of an elephant once. They were enormous animals from another place, far away from Hyrule. Centuries ago, people would come to Hyrule riding them like horses. They were tremendous creatures with the sort of strength that would end a fight with one swing of their tusks. Link didn't know much more than that.
And what could the heart with horns mean? These sorts of premonitions were always lost on him—Zelda seemed to be the only one who could determine what was practical and metaphorical regarding clairvoyance.
"There's always a figure riding it, whispering words I don't understand. The moon is full, and the ground is shaking…" she stopped, as if saying too much, and shook her head. "I think it's just stress. I have a critical meeting coming up tomorrow."
Link didn't buy it, but he wasn't going to press the matter. Zelda knew that, too. "Don't stress. Everything will be fine. It always is," Link said, looping an arm around her tense shoulders and pulling her close. She rested her head on his side and smiled slightly.
"Thanks, Link," she replied, giving him a reluctant smile. "You're sweet… when you want to be."
The Queen dismissed him when two Baronesses approached her for an audience, shock clear on their faces that Link and Zelda were so close; that was sure to add fuel to the rumors. Link excused himself with a bow to the women now sizing him up with hungry expressions. The whole Hero romance complex had to end sometime, surely. He shook his head and made for an empty corner to hide in and relax.
Then, he was intercepted by the woman he saw during his ceremony.
She was just a little taller than himself, and her deep, almost feline eyes captured his as she asked in a voice like spiced honey, "Could I steal the High Royal Guardsman for a dance?"
He blinked, mind feeling curiously blank. "Um, I suppose…"
She reached out a delicate hand, sheathed in a green silk glove, and said, "Queen Evanna, of the Eastern Kingdoms."
Link bowed, taking her hand and kissing it, a motion he had been forced to practice for Zelda countless times. Zelda always said he looked too clumsy when he did it. Maybe that still held true because Evanna laughed softly, a sound that made his pulse pick up for some reason.
"Shall we?" Evanna said, long fingers fanning out towards the dancefloor in an elegant flourish.
Dancing wasn't so bad for Link. It reminded him of combat forms, and it was really just like following those patterns but to the calculation of a waltz. He led her along to the flow of gentle music in the hall, and she studied him with a strange sort of intensity as though deciding something.
"You looked quite stunning in your uniform today," she said conversationally, her hand tightening ever so slightly on his shoulder. "Truly like the Hero of Legend."
"Thanks."
"So, Hero of Time. You're the one who won the war," Evanna continued. Her lashes were so long that he watched them brush against her delicate brows. "You're the pride of the country, then."
"Well, I don't know… I guess," Link replied with a shrug, feeling more and more strange as she drew closer.
The rest of the room had disappeared, and they were just careening through empty space. He had a distinct feeling that some spell was being cast on him, but he couldn't seem to block it like he usually could with any other mind spell. Sheik had taught him several methods of avoiding such bewitchment, but none seemed to work. "May I ask why you've taken an interest in me?"
Evanna laughed softly, revealing sharp white teeth and dark red gums. "Who wouldn't be interested in the Hero of Time? Especially when he's so handsome."
Warmth filled his stomach and head, making him feel drunk. Something was nearly oppressive about her aura like she was slowly trying to suffocate him. Never had he met someone with such a presence of magic. Link didn't know whether to be rude and break away or fall into her warmth. But he felt it was crucial he not give away his awareness of her spell. There was no telling why she was doing it, but he didn't want to risk anyone else in the hall if things went poorly. Link needed to keep her occupied and, ideally, find a way to get her out of there.
"I've never seen you here before. I've never heard of the Eastern Kingdoms, either. Where are they?" he probed, finding his eyes growing heavy as he spoke.
Her smile went even more feline. "To the East."
It took real effort to not roll his eyes at this answer. "Would you like to step out on the balcony? I would like some fresh air," Link said, voice sounding faint to his own ears as he stopped their waltz.
The party shifted back into focus, and he realized the entire floor had opened up to watch him and Evanna dance. He held out his arm for her, knowing she couldn't refuse under the scrutiny. Her face was unreadable as the crowd clapped for them. That same cat-like smile pulled her eyes into a sharp angle, and she nodded, taking his arm and moving close to him.
The crowd broke up, and as he led her to the balcony, he scanned the room to find Sheik almost out of sight against the wall. Their eyes met, and Link ran a hand through his hair, a signal for trouble they'd long developed. Sheik barely nodded and moved into the shadows like smoke.
Link and Evanna slipped through the doors and out onto one of the great balconies overlooking the courtyard and Castle Town, Death Mountain looming to the west, and the great viridian fields to the south. Evanna let go of him and leaned against the white railing.
"This kingdom is so beautiful," she said softly as Link watched and waited for her next move. Evanna turned and leaned back, her arms curved out from her body as they smoothed over the rich marble of the railing. "I am sorry I had to cast that spell on you, but I needed your attention."
He frowned. "There are easier ways, Your Highness."
Evanna shook her head. "Not in there. All eyes and ears were fixed on me. I was trying to form a telepathic connection with you," she explained. "You're rather resistant, however."
Link crossed his arms. "I've had far too many people in my head for an entire lifetime. Aren't there proceedings to telepathic connections? You didn't even ask permission."
Evanna laughed, head tilted back, observing him like he were lesser than herself. Unfortunately, it was an expression Link was all too familiar with in the royal circles, and his tolerance of it wore thinner every time he saw it.
"You're speaking rather rudely to royalty," she said, a threat dancing behind her eyes.
"You're acting rather rudely to a High Lord of Hyrule's court," he countered. "You are a guest, but you must adhere to our laws and traditions."
Evanna studied him for a long moment. "You're right, Guardsman, of course. I do apologize for my unwarranted attempt. But," she let out a sigh erring towards frustration, "I am getting desperate. It seems to have clouded my judgment."
"Desperate, why?"
In an instant, her eyes shifted into a deadly expression, and Link realized this woman was more powerful than she would let on. It made him want to order her removal from Hyrule; people like this never boded well for the kingdom.
"There is something here that I need. The lives of my people depend on it." Evanna's tone was low, and her words were sharp. She reminded him of a coiled cat.
"What is it that you need, Your Highness?" he asked, already dreading the answer.
She gave one shake of her head. "I can't speak of it here. We must go outside of the castle. In three days, meet me at Lake Hylia."
Link stared in confusion. "Why should I meet you there?"
"Because the fate of your kingdom hangs in the balance, Guardsman," Evanna said, her voice precise like a whip. "So, if you want the information I have, you may want to do as you're told."
"Explain yourself. What do you know?" Link demanded, advancing on her.
"What part of 'I can't speak here' do you not understand?" she hissed, meeting Link's advance without wavering.
"If Hyrule is in danger, I need to be the first to know."
"You are not in a position to be making demands, Hero of Time," she snapped. "Do as I say, and I can promise all will be revealed."
Link paused, taking in what she was saying and trying to decode it. Even in anger, she looked deceptively fair, like she wasn't real. The sun was pitching towards the skyline, and dimming red light enveloped her green form. Link didn't know whether she was friend or foe… but what choice did he have? As the High Royal Guardsman now, this was his problem; he would have to go along with her for the time being. The position had been given to him for his strength and his intellect.
Link was going to have to trust himself.
Taking a step back, Link crossed his arms over his chest. "I'll meet you at Lake Hylia in three days."
Evanna relaxed and gave a feline smile. "Excellent. Just past midday, by the tree on the island."
"See you then, Your Highness." Link bowed stiffly as she glided around him, eyes glinting in a fashion that could only be described as dangerous.
"Until then, Guardsman." She slipped back through the doors, shutting them behind her with a soft boom. He stared after her and watched the large, white double doors shudder slightly in their frame.
"What was that about?" Sheik asked from the second balcony hanging above the door.
Link shook his head as Sheik swung down and landed silently on the tiles. "I don't know. I don't think we can trust her. And she's staying in this castle." He let out a growl and worried at his lip. "We're going to have to keep a guard on her."
"And do some research on the Eastern Kingdoms, it seems," Sheik added. "Queen Evanna appears to be new to the aristocracy."
"New government, you think?" Link mused.
"Or a very quiet one."
"Or a fake one."
Sheik shrugged, returning his dagger to the sheath at his hip. "We'll have to do some searching."
Link glanced in the sky; at least something was going well. "Good news, Sheik."
The Sheikah quirked a dark blonde eyebrow.
"We're off the hook."
The sun was below the horizon.
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