Chapter Text
Link stared at himself in the mirror and heaved a heavy sigh. He was done up in the finest clothes the royal guards could spare: a red and blue uniform with a stuffy-looking beret and polished white boots that would not withstand even one step in the muddy streets of Castle Town.
He hated it. He hated the pretension of it all, hated the way he couldn’t seem to flex his fingers all the way in the stiff white gloves, hated the itchiness of the collar against his throat.
And most of all, he hated the sword on his back, the golden gem shining like the world’s worst engagement ring. Because that was practically what it was.
When he had pulled the sword from the pedestal, he had betrothed himself, body and soul, to the royal princess. He just hadn’t known it at the time.
It was an expectation that was rather new in Hyrule. The king had issued a decree that his daughter would be given in marriage to anyone who successfully pulled the sword, probably to encourage more attempts by the nobles in the castle. The fact that Link had even laid a hand on it was just a fluke. He had been egged on by his fellow knights. They had practically wrapped his fingers around the hilt. He hadn’t wanted to marry the princess, hadn’t wanted to wield the sword.
But now, in three days’ time, that was exactly what he was about to do.
His mother had already been given temporary rooms in the castle. The temple had been strewn with decorations for the ceremony. The castle’s sanctum was being cleaned even now, ready to host the finest reception that Hyrule had ever seen.
And Link had not even met his bride yet.
What a load of Boko dung.
He adjusted the hair beneath his beret and drew in a steadying breath. There was no putting it off any longer. No matter his feelings, no matter his own desires, he needed to go through with this. He had a duty to uphold, for the sake of Hyrule.
He turned away from the mirror and toward the door. It was time to meet Princess Zelda.