Zelink Short Stories - Chapter 15: Chapter 15

A week I've ignored all three of them. A week spent in my room with Nonna being the only one coming in.
She finally gave in and let me take my meals here rather than try to force me downstairs. I wouldn't go and I went an entire day without eating before she brought me breakfast the next morning. It was worth it in my head though she said I was dramatic.
I'm waiting for breakfast now in my velvet chair, enjoying the warm sunlight filtering in through my windows. It's pleasant and peaceful up here, perfect for forgetting about the boy I can't stand.
I'd cried those angry tears all the way to my room. They kept coming no matter how many times I wiped them away, cursing them. She talks too much already, he'd said. The spoiled brat no one wants. It wouldn't hurt as much if I didn't know it was true.
The one time I left my room this week was to ask Father if what he said about me scaring the princes off was true and not some fib to give us something in common. Every prince I'd met with except one is either engaged or already married. Some had even told Father I was obnoxious while others simply said we didn't fit. And here I thought I was the one turning them away.
To make matters worse, all the princesses who turned away from Link married the princes I scared off. A pitiful story we've written for ourselves.
There's only one prince I know of who doesn't yet have a bride. He's older; closer to thirty than twenty, but I remember he was handsome. A bit prideful as well. Maybe he'll match the attitude they all claim I have.
I've gone to start a letter several times and always come short on words. I don't want to seem as if I'm begging to be his wife. I'm not sure how to ask him to come for a visit while adding just a hint of urgency. There's a ball Father has had scheduled for months and I want him to attend. There's bound to be princesses nearing eighteen for Link to meet and I'll have a different prince. If all goes well, we'll be free from each other and engaged. It's about as perfect as a plan can get.
Relieved to hear a knock on the door, I hurry over to it. I've been starving and the maid was taking unusually long to bring up my breakfast.
The excitement for food is promptly stomped out at the sight of Link waiting at my door. "What do you want?" A week I haven't had to see his stupidly gorgeous face and here he is, still stupidly gorgeous.
"I um..." Um. A prince and he can't think of anything to say other than um.
"Well?"
He offers a tin I didn't notice he was holding. "I heard you liked sweets."
I narrow my eyes. "Heard or asked?"
"Does it matter?"
"I guess not," I mumble and take the tin. I suppose it's an olive branch of sorts.
I open it, the sweet scent of pastries filling my nose. Chocolate puffs, strawberry tarts, and danishes. But looking at them, I frown. The piped cream on top is lopsided and all of them are a bit wonky in general with misshapen dough and an uneven sprinkling of powdered sugar.
"We must have a new baker. These aren't nearly as uniform as they normally are."
He scratches the back of his head, his expression something like hurt. "I made them..."
"Oh." I chew on my lip. "Thank you," I force out. Pointless now after I already called them ugly. "I'll try them later." A tentative bite would be more accurate. They may taste as weird as they look and a bold mouthful would be unfortunate.
He switches from scratching his head to picking at the skin around his nails. I'm beginning to see what his father meant by unbearably awkward. "I'll see you then," I say and move to close the door.
"Wait." He stops it like before only now with less urgency and bruteness. I learned already that pushing against his strength is useless but I haven't yet found a way to snip the wings of the butterflies in my belly each time I think of him striding into my room to put my shoes on for me.
"Was there something else?"
"I was hoping you'd join me for breakfast." He can't possibly be serious. After our last shared meal, I refuse to dine with him at all. Even him being in my doorway is grating on my nerves.
"I'd rather not."
"Please?" I never knew one word could carry such a begging tone.
I chew on my lip, debating it. Breakfast would be shorter than dinner-not that we made it far into dinner before we were both standing and yelling at each other.
I open my mouth to say no when I'm reminded of him and Father bringing up the attitude they claim I have. And though I don't care about what this boy thinks-
"Fine." A hint of a smile pulls at the corners of his mouth and my annoyance grows with it. I'd meant to fill the word with enough smugness that he'd back down, not fight off a smile. "I need a moment," I snap.
To my surprise, he drops his hand from the door and I get to slam it in his face. I smile a little at the satisfaction and venture further into my room to leave the tin of sweets on the table by my bed and to don my heels. I choose a taller pair to give him less height over me and swipe a bit of color on my lips to look like something delicious he can't have. And after one last check in my vanity mirror, I deem myself ready for breakfast and go back to my doors where I expect him to be.
Except he's not. At least, not directly in front of it. Poking my head out, I see him bent slightly, examining himself in the reflection of a shiny wall sconce not far from my room. He fluffs his hair and straightens his collar, finishing his preening by flattening any stray eyebrow hairs.
Goddess help me, he looks handsome and cute.
The thought sour in my head, I clear my throat and watch him snap upright with a face pinker than my lips.
"Done admiring yourself?" I ask, grabbing fistfuls of my dress to make my way towards him.
"I wasn't admiring myself."
I stop in front of him, hating that he seems to be just as tall even with my heels. "Then what were you doing?"
"The same thing you were doing to put on that lipstick you weren't wearing a moment ago."
"I like wearing lipstick."
"This is the first time I've seen you wear it."
"Maybe you just don't pay attention," I snap, though I'm not sure I actually have worn any in front of him.
"I pay attention." His voice rises higher and I follow suit.
"Oh really. I thought you were the one who was too dense to notice our fathers' setup."
He presses his lips together as he's reminded of the reason why he's here and why he hasn't gone home. We're supposed to get along and marry according to my father and his. I'll be dead before I ever consider taking him as my husband. I can't believe Father planned this at all. He should care about my future, not treat me as a bone and toss me to a shy dog.
His throat bobs slightly as he swallows. "Are you dining with me or not." He bites the words out with more venom than I thought he had.
"I suppose I will since you seem to crave my company so badly."
"Fine." He offers his arm and I just barely grab it before he starts walking, tugging me along like a ragdoll.
I grip my skirt and try to keep it from catching my heels. Curse his long legs and everything else about him. The only thing he deserves credit for is finally taking steps without dragging his boots along the stone floor.
Maids we pass fail miserably at hiding their gawking and giggling at the sight of the prince. Some even have the nerve to curtsy. Last I checked, he was here for me, not them. What's worse is he smiles back at them, even giving a few of the pretty ones a slight nod. I grind my teeth harder each time. None of the male servants even dare look at me.
Thankfully, we don't run into Banzetta or my father on our way to one of the smaller informal sitting rooms I often use for tea. Them knowing I willingly agreed to dine with Link will make their fantasies go wild with thoughts of weddings and grandchildren.
The round table is set nicer than usual with plates on opposite sides. I choose the seat closer to the door for obvious reasons and wait for him to pull it out for me. I take my time smoothing my skirt before I sit but once I do, he pushes my chair in harder than necessary and stalks to his side. So much for manners.
We aren't forced to sit in awkward silence for long. Servants bring our breakfasts and I can't help but be excited when a plate of chocolate filled crepes dusted with extra powdered sugar is set before me. Tea is poured as well and I begin to think this wasn't the worst meal I've agreed to.
Content to ignore my company, I spoon sugar into my tea. Just enough to make it sweet but not too much that crystals settle on the bottom.
I reach for the bowl of fruit next but rather than feeling the cool metal handle of the spoon, my fingers land on something soft. I scowl across the table to find a mirror image on his face though smugness begins to creep into his features the longer I keep my hand atop his.
"If you wanted to hold my hand, you simply could have asked."
"Why would I ever want to hold your hand?" I seethe, pulling mine back.
"You tell me."
He pulls the bowl towards him and scoops fruit onto his plate before I can say anything else. He piles more and more and more next to his eggs and toast. How much food does he possibly need?
Once he's finally done, I snatch the bowl so fast the spoon clinks against the side. My lips twist in annoyance. "You took all the strawberries." All that's left is a sad bit of blackberries, raspberries, and a scattering of blueberries-my least favorite. They're always so bitter.
"Did I?" I watch him eat one with that hint of a smile on his lips.
"Yes."
"How unfortunate." It'll be unfortunate when I blind him with my fork.
Scowling, I pick a few of the raspberries from the bowl and dot them on top of my crepes. Not too many as I get bored of the taste quickly unlike strawberries. I could eat a full basket of them and still want more.
At least the chocolate filling is smooth and the crepes have a slight crisp along the edges that taste best when covered in powdered sugar. It all tastes best with sugar. Maybe I'd even learn to tolerate Link with enough sweetness.
But there's not enough sugar in the kingdom for that.
And there's not enough shame to keep Link from eating like an animal it seems. He shovels food into his mouth until his cheeks are round. It's worse than dinner a week ago. I'm closer to him now and I find myself disgustedly fascinated by the way he seems to swallow bites without chewing thoroughly first.
"Do you eat like that in front of your mother?" I ask, bringing a small, manageable piece of food to my mouth. I thought every royal learned to eat this way. Apparently, Link's parents allow him to be a savage.
"You always have something to say, don't you?" he grumbles. At least he doesn't talk with his mouth full.
"That doesn't answer my question." But it does add a tally to my imaginary board when his face grows red and he toys with the utensils next to his plate.
"I'm just hungry."
"Are you afraid you're going to die if you don't eat like it's going to be taken away from you?"
I wait, expecting him to throw an insult back at me. He doesn't.
The screech from his chair being shoved back takes me by surprise. He tosses his napkin onto the table and stands. "Where do you think you're going?" I ask, too shocked to be worried about my tone.
"I have a headache."
It's only after he leaves that I realize I was the headache. I stare at the rest of the food I don't have an appetite for. Have I really driven off every man who might have held an interest for me with an attitude?
Huffing at how absurd it all is, I gather my skirts and leave the nicely decorated table and our uneaten meals. I'm sure I'd find him in the kitchens stuffing his face if I felt like looking. It's not as if I should have to apologize; he eats like he's never been fed. That alone would scare off any princesses before they had enough time to dwell in his awkwardness. Except for me, unfortunately. I've been subject to his barbaric eating and unbearable awkwardness.
I go back to my room on my own, scowling at each of the maids that huddle together like schoolgirls, giggling. I should have stayed in my room to begin with so I wouldn't have to listen to the giggling that has likely been going on since his arrival last week.
What is there to giggle about anyway? Sure he's handsome but what else is there? My mind wanders to things I might have missed in the week I've locked myself away. Nonna made no mention of anything dramatic happening though she made sure to scold me each morning and night, saying I was being utterly ridiculous. Throwing a temper tantrum, she'd said. She also made a point to say I was too old for those and I should have ended them years ago. Not that I see it as a tantrum. It's simply a refusal to take part in this horrid matchmaking scheme.
I trudge to my room, feeling slow and grumpy though I hate to admit it. It's free of Nonna and more importantly, Link.
I kick my heels to the side and drop myself into my desk chair and pull a new sheet of paper in front of me. Just like every other time, words escape me. I shouldn't have so much trouble. This is my only option to get out of this mess after all. If Link were smart, he'd ask his mother for a list of all the princesses nearing marrying age. One might have enough pity to put up with him.
I brush the feather end of the quill against my cheek. The page is almost too blank. How in Hylia do I invite a man to a ball so I can sweep him into a marriage that'll save me from my suitor? I'll seem desperate no matter how I put it.
I begin writing, pausing an infuriating number of times to stare at the page and unfinished words. All the wrong words I realize. I crumple it in my hands and push the ball to the side to start over.
Again and again I start over, crumpling each page until I run out. It's ridiculous! I scare away each and every young man and I can't write a letter to invite my last option.
I shove out of my chair and chuck the wadded up letters into my fireplace where I'm content to watch them burn. I check the clock once they're nothing but ashes. Already past noon. So early and yet I feel I need a nap.
No. Not until I finish this dreadful invitation.
Grabbing my skirts with my ink stained hands, I leave my room and make my way to the library, praying to the Goddess I won't run into the prince on my way there.
The scent of old leather greets me when the guard pulls the door open for me. Stacked to the ceiling are books of all sorts: stories, knowledge, curious tales of magic. I've read a bit of everything. There's nothing I love more than falling through the pages as if I exist within them.
Except for maybe sweets.
My steps are stifled by the endless shelves packed to the brim with volumes calling my name. I'll pick a few once I'm done to read when I shut myself in my room again. I've read most of the books on my shelf though I never finished the one I started the day Link was shipped here. That one will remain under my bed where I shoved it. It's a shame. I'm sure it would have been a good story if it weren't for the character all too similar to my suitor.
I sit at one of the many desks scattered through the massive room and pull a fresh sheet of paper. The words come more easily now. Being surrounded by books is always the perfect remedy for lack of inspiration. I even manage to toss in a few lines that'll stroke the ego I've heard this particular royal carries shamelessly.
I look at the finished letter, feeling my own ego swell. All that's left is to let the ink dry and-
My head snaps in the direction of the scuff that sounds on the floor. Link's cheeks are already red by the time I rake my eyes over him. He has a stack of books in his arms-military strategies and sword fighting techniques by the look of it. Could he pick anything more boring?
"And this whole time I was wondering if you could read," I say and turn my attention to fanning the ink. The sooner I can leave, the better.
I jump as he drops the books next to me on the desk. "Why do you hate me so much?" There's anger in his voice but something else as well. I can't quite place it.
"I never said I hated you." I stand to face him, hiding the letter behind me. He doesn't need to know the plan yet. Father doesn't know about it either and I intend to keep it that way. "You're just infuriating."
He blocks my path when I try to leave. "How?"
"You just are." He matches my step. "This can be your first reason," I snap.
"Just answer my question."
"I did."
"No you didn't."
"Yes I did."
"No."
"Yes."
"I'll keep going," he promises with nothing short of stubbornness in his tone. I'd love to strangle it out of him.
"I'm sure you could but I'm afraid I have something to do. So if you'd move-"
His eyes narrow on the hand hidden behind my back. "What is that?"
"None of your concern." Tries to look around me and I twist. "It's nothing."
"Then why are you hiding it?"
"It doesn't matter to you," I say, backing up. I sidestep around the table and he follows at the other end. "Go stick your nose somewhere else."
"I think you're lying." He goes to step closer and I move back to the other side like some petty dance children would engage in. "You wouldn't be trying so hard to hide it if it wasn't about me."
"It has nothing to do with you," I snap-a blatant lie, "but it was fun to see you try to be smart."
"Just tell me what it is." His boots scuff on the floor and I nearly trip on my heels when we swap sides around the desk. "You're not going to win this, Princess." I grind my teeth.
"What are you going to do, chase me around the castle?"
"Want to find out?"
Without a thought of how this might end, I run.
It's not long though that I realize he wasn't bluffing. And I'm even more wrong for assuming the piece of furniture between us would slow him down. I turn my head just in time to watch him vault over it with ease. Does he run obstacle courses in his free time?
I fly around a corner, hoping to lose him in the shelves. He may be fast but he doesn't know the castle as well as I do. I spent most of my youth hiding from the guards wanting to drag me to my dull lessons.
I fold the letter and shove it into my top to free my hands. Once his footsteps sound far enough away, I pause with already ragged breath and reach down to pry my shoes off. I'll never make it far in these even if I lose him. I'll end up breaking my ankle.
I toss one to the side and reach for the second just as Link skids to a halt at the other end of the aisle. He sprints at me without any evidence of being tired. It's the most terrifying thing I've ever seen.
With nothing else to do, I chuck my shoe at him and don't wait to watch if it hit its mark before I'm running again. The shelf I put between us muffles his cursing and I push my legs faster. If I can just get out of the library-
I reach the last stretch before the doors. They look dreadfully heavy but with his pounding steps not far behind, I have no choice.
My bones ache barreling through the door like a soldier breaking through the front. The guards on either side startle and I'm gone before I can think to order them to end the pursuit.
I curse my corset squeezing my chest and keeping me from sucking in the breaths I desperately need. Princesses were simply not made to run let alone be chased barefoot through castles with a prince close behind. Too close.
I grab at corners to swing around them without losing speed. My lungs scream at me to quit and my legs threaten to come to a stop. But I won't lose to him. Not when he told me I'd lose. I keep running, promising to never call his bluff ever again.
I run past servants whose faces mold into pure confusion. An idea jumps into my head and I turn down another hall abruptly, heading straight towards the servant's door that leads to a stairwell out of sight. I'm not sure if Father even knows about it.
I shove back the tapestry hiding it and spare a glance at the prince. I squeak at his closeness and throw myself down the steps. Maids making their way up yelp and press themselves against the wall. I almost wish I'd knocked them down the stairs after all that giggling.
His steps echo in the stairwell, thudding louder than my heartbeat in my ears. Can't he just quit?!
A male servant opens one of the doors at the bottom, his eyes widening at the scene running towards him. "Leave it open!" I shout at the same time Link yells, "Close it!" Cheater.
The man simply jumps out of the way. Or rather, tries to. I trip over his shoes and find the floor much closer than it was a moment ago. I scrape my hands catching myself, grazing my chin along the stone floors of the kitchens.
Servants swarm me not a second later, their voices overlapping with "Princess!" and "Are you alright?" I hardly hear any of them.
"Move!" I shriek, shaking out of the grips of men trying to help me up. I'm running before I can process, weaving through cooks and hot trays that would surely give me nasty burns. Some servants manage to get out of the way in time, shouting, while I bump into others, almost knocking us both over.
Obscenities are shouted from behind me and I look back to see Link apologizing without stopping, his fancy suit covered in flour. I smile, imagining he didn't look much different when he was baking those sweets for me.
I swing open the first door I reach and find myself outside. The gardens aren't far. I can lose him in the hedges if I have to. I gather my skirts and force my legs to move faster than they ever have.
Gravel bites into my bare feet from the path. I run towards the grass, never having been so grateful for it. I listen to Link slipping in the gravel as well until he too reaches the grass. Dread settles in my stomach. He's getting closer without the twists and turns to slow him down.
I refuse to look at him as I run straight for one of the courtyards. I leap over a strip of flowering bushes, my dress snagging slightly on the short branches. He made this look easy.
My heart finds its way into my throat at the next leap. I hear him land no more than an arm's length away.
I go to jump the last set of bushes before the hedges when I feel his hand tangle itself in the fabric of my skirts. One moment I'm upright and the next I'm crashing through one of the taller bushes. The sticks scratch my face and stab through my dress, and a heavy weight knocks the wind out of me. I finally realize we're rolling and the weight is his body.
The momentum rolls us right into the middle of the gravel path. I stay still, gasping for my breath. My head spins and I squeeze my eyes shut. I wouldn't believe what I've done if every inch of me didn't ache or burn.
The ground shifts under me and I realize it isn't the ground under me at all. I lift my head in horror and find my face not inches from his. If I didn't already feel like hurling, being close enough to kiss him might have been enough.
His chest doesn't heave nearly as hard as mine and I might have smacked him if it weren't for the crunch of gravel coming from a path that opens up at our heads.
Wincing, I lift my head higher as Link tilts his back to look. Our fathers stand there, mouths open, staring down at us. I'm not sure how to even begin explaining. I'm not sure I want to.
I slowly become aware of every detail from the gardeners peeking around the plants to Link's hands gripped firmly on my waist. I think not.
"Let go of me," I hiss, scrambling off his perfect-feeling body. I jam my knee into his stomach on my way up, making him cough and unclamp his hands.
I pointlessly try to smooth my skirt standing in front of Father. It's heinously dirty and even ripped in some spots. Running my hands over it only smears small drops of blood from my scraped hands on the fabric. I settle for picking at my broken nails.
Link finally stands next to me, his hand covering where I wedged my knee into his middle. He looks as if he may vomit. I only hope I'm not around to see it.
His father scratches his beard. "I'm struggling to understand what happened."
"Ask your son," I huff, still out of breath. I leave before they can squeeze an explanation out of me. Hobble more like. I feel small chunks of gravel stuck in my feet with every step and the stitch in my side keeps me from moving too quickly. Pitiful after that dramatic race where I nearly outran him. I would have if I'd pushed just a little harder.
I ignore the looks I get from passing servants and maids. I wouldn't doubt some of them had been the same ones who witnessed how I became such a disheveled mess. But it's Nonna I dread. Sure Father will lecture me when he snaps out of his shock. Nonna will kill me the rest of the way when she sees the state of my gown.
The stairs are almost impossible to climb with my stiff limbs and aching joints-so much so I almost ask one of the guards to carry me up. But I forget about that when I see most of them trying to hold in their laughter. I'm not sure I'll ever be able to walk the halls without shame ever again.
I want to collapse the moment I step foot into my room but I check the letter first. Pulling it from my top, I inspect it with relief. Only a few creases. Nothing I can't smooth out. I might have thrown out the whole idea if I had to rewrite it with my sore wrists and raw hands.
I stuff it into an envelope and finish it with a seal and its destination. I'll be healed by the time the ball comes around without scars I hope.
I give the letter to a maid when I catch one passing by my doors and tell her to get Nonna. While I wait, I fumble with the strings of my dress. I eventually give up and sit in one of my armchairs. My legs refuse to quit shaking. It wouldn't be so bad if I knew Link was as worn out from that...event as I am. At least I know his stomach is bruised.
I scowl at the imagine my mind conjures up of his shirtless self. I don't want to believe he looks better half naked.
I'm too tired to startle when my door swings open and Nonna comes inside. "Now what in Hylia happened?" She rushes over before I can speak, lifting my arms and turning my hands over. "Look at you!" she says, pinching my cheeks as she gets a better look at my scraped chin. "Was there a war I didn't hear about?"
"It was all Link's fault."
"Did he throw you down the stairs?" She pulls a twig from my hair. "Or did he beat you and toss you into a bush?"
"He chased me through the castle and tackled me into a bush!"
"Goodness, Zelda, I didn't think you'd go as far as to run from the boy! Now up! You smell like dirt and I won't see these scrapes get infected." She shoos me from the chair, gasping at my ruined dress. "He's just a boy, you dramatic girl!"
"He chased me, Nonna! What else was I supposed to do?"
"Not force him to run after you for one!"
She grabs my wrist and pulls me to the bathing room, ignoring all my complaints of being sore. I couldn't believe when she took his side the first time and now she's doing it again? She raised me, not him!
But she doesn't bother acknowledging my scowl as she draws a warm bath, dumping in salts and enough soap to make endless bubbles. She undoes my corset and leaves to grab nail tools while I shed the filthy gown and slip into the water. It soothes my aching muscles and I close my eyes, sliding further into the tub until my face is just above the bubbles.
My toes don't reach the other end of the tub when my legs are outstretched. It's big enough for at least two people. Maybe even a second person as tall as Link. I let myself picture him in the tub, wondering if he's washing up as well. From what I felt, his chest is nicely sculpted with muscle. I can only imagine what it would look like wet and dripping with water-
Nonna dumps a cup full of water onto my head and I sit back up sputtering. "Don't think you get to relax when you left me with all this work to do." She drops a bar of soap into the tub, splashing my face before I have the chance to wipe my eyes. "Scrub your feet until you get rid of all that dirt stuck to them."
I fish the soap from the bottom and do as she says. "It wasn't my fault!"
"Don't give me that. You're the only one who could have taken your shoes off unless you want to claim he did that as well." He only put my shoes on for me. I shove the memory away.
"I would've broken something otherwise."
"And I'm sure you would have blamed that on him as well." She dumps another cup of water on my head before working her fingers through my hair, covering my scalp in suds. "Are you going to tell me what actually happened?"
"He wouldn't leave me alone in the library."
"How absolutely dreadful, my dear."
"Don't mock me."
"I'm not mocking you, I just think you're dramatic and ungrateful."
"Ungrateful?"
"Only you would whine and cry when a handsome man and your last choice for a husband tries so hard for your affections."
"What has he ever done to earn my affections? Follow me when he was young and chase me when he's grown?"
She clicks her tongue, clearly annoyed. "Him escorting you to dinner wasn't enough so he bakes you sweets and invites you for another meal and you stomp on his feelings."
"How did you know about that?" I ask, twisting to face her.
"Who do you think told him you only eat sugar and that he'd probably find you in the library after you chipped another piece off his heart?" I let my jaw hang. She'd been conspiring with him!
She forces me to turn forward, dumping more water on my head. Most of it spills down my face. "Pick up your jaw before you lose it, my dear."
"He still chased me," I mumble after a few moments. Why does everyone want me to like him except for me? He hasn't done a single thing that wasn't annoying.
"You are impossible to please, Zelda, and I applaud the boy for even trying."
I stay quiet as she finishes my hair and fixes my nails, shortening them all to the same length and filing away the rough edges. She cleans each scrape and pulls splinters I didn't know I had. My body aches once she's done but at least I'm clean and I'll be put together for the ball in a few weeks. It seems an eternity but marrying Link would be an even longer one.
She dries my hair and weaves it into a thick braid before sending me to bed early with a cup of tea. Though my bed feels heavenly, I sit wide awake, watching the sun disappear behind the mountains in the distance. I don't bother with a book either. I wouldn't be able to focus on it anyway.
I bring my braid over my shoulder and pick at the end of it. The lump in my stomach feels miserably like guilt though I'm not sure what for. It's not my fault no other princess wanted him. I didn't ask to be stuck with him and I didn't ask him to have feelings for me. I shouldn't want to feel bad about it.
There's a quick knock on my door just then and I surprise myself with how quickly I jump out of bed to answer it. I tell myself I'm not hoping it's Link as I open it.
A door down the hall slams shut before I can see who it was but I know it was him. His room is closer to mine than I thought. Make it easier to spend time together I suppose. Too bad that won't be happening after today.
I almost miss the box placed on the floor with a note stuck to the top. With one more glance at his door, I pick it up and retreat into my room with whatever the gift is.
I sit on my bed and cross my legs, flipping over the note. I'm sorry, it reads with smeared ink. That's a first. I take the lid off and the chocolate covered strawberries laid neatly inside greet me. Two gifts in one day of things I can't stand to leave for long.
I eat one of the strawberries in two bites and toss the stem back in the box before reaching for the tin he gave me this morning. I choose a chocolate puff once I swallow and take a small bite. I shove the entire thing into my mouth next. It tastes better than any sweet I've ever had.
They all do, I realize, once I've finished every pastry he baked and the strawberries. They may have looked odd but not even the castle bakers have made something so delicious. And it just so happens that the man who made them is odd as well.
I set the empty box and tin aside, more guilt devouring me as quickly as I ate the sweets. Maybe I have been harsh.
Using whatever light is left from my dimming fireplace, I write on the other side of his note.
I'm sorry as well.
Anything more and he might get the wrong idea.
I sneak from my room and creep to his doors. Light still glows beneath the cracks. I hold my breath as I crouch and shove the note under his door before running back to mine.
Somehow, him seeing me come to him would mean more than what I wrote on the note.