Fortitude - Chapter 2

Xxx 2 xxX

I sat in my study, working through piles of neatly stacked papers scattered about my desk. Endless contracts, reports, and inquiries all awaiting my response. I sometimes wondered how long it had been since my desk was clear. Or had it ever been clear?

My pen paused at the sound of a quiet knock.

"Come in," I called, lifting my head as Lady Ariella Pierson, the Royal Chamberlain, entered the room. Ariella had managed the castle household since I was a child, and her husband, Captain Ian, had served in the Royal Guard for nearly three decades. They had two sons, both training to follow in their father's footsteps.

"I have a letter for you, my Lady."

I sat back and gave her an inquisitive look. "You needn't deliver my mail personally, Ariella."

Weakly she returned my smile, and I noticed it did not reach her soft brown eyes. A few strands of red hair had fallen in her slightly flushed face, as though she had hurried a long way to reach my study.

"I thought I should deliver this one myself," she said quietly. "It's from Vandelius, my Lady… from Lord Ashton himself."

I froze, eyeing the letter in her offered hand. Slowly I took it, recognizing its familiar script: To her Majesty, Queen Zelda Ariadne Harkinian of Hyrule.

"Shall I summon the Council?" Ariella asked.

"No," I murmured, my eyes still fixed on the letter. "Not yet. Tell Impa I wish to speak with her immediately."

"Yes, my Lady."

"And please," I added, meeting her troubled gaze, "do whatever you can to keep this quiet."

She assured me she would and quietly closed the door behind her. I sat back against my chair, staring at the letter's familiar seal in cold, fearful silence.

"What could you possibly want?" I whispered. Knowing Ashton, and knowing the past we had unfortunately shared, I feared the worst.

Ashton Iladius Regaldi was the newly crowned King of Vandelius, a prosperous land located south of Hyrule. As a fellow kingdom of the Alliance, Vandelius was more or less an ally, but the past decade had put a severe strain on our relationship, even to the point of war.

Ashton was the primary cause of that strain.

.

Twenty-three years ago, only three months after my birth, King Elithor of Vandelius and my father, King Nohansen, reached an agreement that strengthened their previously weak alliance. I, the infant Princess of Hyrule, and Elithor's four-year-old son, Ashton, were engaged to be married once I turned sixteen. The Council had supported the arrangement, as it significantly eased the tension between both kingdoms.

As a child I never gave my betrothal much thought. I found my young fiancé to be polite but rather haughty and dull, and Ashton never showed much interest in me either. We spent minimal time together whenever our families visited, and our interaction had been superficial at best.

Our relationship changed, however, once I entered my thirteenth year. People began to notice the blossoming Princess of Hyrule, and talk of my beauty captured every courtier's attention — including that of my fiancé. Ashton suddenly became entranced with me, showering me with romantic gifts and bold affections. Handsome and suave, he was the dashing suitor of my adolescent dreams.

Shortly after my fourteenth birthday, Hyrule was plunged into war with Tar Alem, a northern kingdom, and my father sent me to Vandelius to escape the ever-growing conflict. I had been reluctant to leave Hyrule, but because I would live in Vandelle Castle for many years as Ashton's wife, I felt determined to embrace it as my new home.

What I found there was something I could never call home.

I had been prepared for the cultural differences of Vandelius' patriarchal society. I knew I would have to hold my tongue, to express my opinion only when it was asked of me. But that was the least of it. The Regaldis treated me like a pet in need of training, and they constantly challenged me to prove my worth.

The constant criticism and lofty expectations of Queen Guinevere, Ashton's mother, had been disheartening enough, but my deepest wounds came from Ashton himself. He frequently pressured me to break my vow of chastity, choosing to ignore my strong religious values. My constant refusal sometimes riled his temper, exposing a darker, more aggressive side of him. To make matters worse, he often took a mistress into his bedchamber, even while I lay just a few rooms away. Ashton never valued such things as fidelity and devotion, and yet he expected me to reserve myself for him. One by one his superficial layers fell away, revealing a deceitful, selfish man incapable of love.

I returned to Hyrule at the first opportunity, my dreams for a bright future in shambles. I kept my unpleasant experiences locked inside, refusing to pity myself while my kingdom recovered from war. Never did I imagine that within the next year my engagement would cease to exist.

As Link and I grew closer in the following months, he eventually convinced me to speak with my father about Ashton's deception. Fearing Link would take matters into his own hands, I did as he asked and told my father everything I experienced in Vandelius. I was convinced nothing would change. My father had always kept me at arm's length, providing guidance and discipline but nothing more. I fully expected him to lecture me about duty, to remind me that Ashton was an ideal match despite his shortcomings. So when he responded with rage toward Ashton and compassion for me, I was utterly astonished.

In a rare moment of tenderness, my father confessed that he had initially blamed me for my mother's death. His grief had hardened his heart, and he found himself unable to love me — to feel any affection for me at all. Then slowly, as I grew older, those feelings began to fade, and though he never knew how to express it, he had grown to love me. He never questioned my betrothal because I had seemed so happy with Ashton.

"I will not stand for this," he told me. "That imposter doesn't deserve you."

Severing my arranged marriage had been no simple matter. Ashton had gained considerable favor within my father's own court, and the Vandelian people had accepted me as their future queen. But once my father learned of Ashton's deceit — and that of the Regaldi family — he had unraveled the agreement with newfound determination.

And so, much to his humiliation, Ashton had been escorted from Hyrule Castle and forced to return to Vandelius. I had watched him from a high window, unable to believe I was free of him. The words he shouted as he resisted our guards still rang through my mind:

"You haven't seen the last of me! I will have what was promised to me!"

.

Tap. Tap.

A sharp knock jolted me back to the present.

"Zelda?" A familiar voice came through the door.

"Come in, Impa."

She slipped inside and quietly closed the door.

"Have you read it?" she asked as she sank into the chair across my desk. I noticed the traces of worry in her normally guarded expression.

I shook my head. "Impa, what could he possibly want?"

She sighed. "I imagine this has something to do with his recent coronation."

"You really believe he would abuse his power like that? After everything?"

By "everything" I meant the war that had followed my severed engagement. My father had done his best to avoid a conflict, and a peace treaty had been signed to replace the marriage contract. But, only weeks later, Hyrule was attacked on both sides — by Tar Alemian from the north and Vandelius from the south. The two kingdoms had joined forces, which meant Vandelius had renounced its membership in the Alliance.

This war, which was later called the Retribution War, lasted nearly five long and terrible years. Under Link's leadership — and with additional Alliance troops — our army eventually defeated the Tar Alemian forces. We might have defeated Vandelius as well, had Elithor not agreed to stop the fighting. Once everyone had laid down their weapons, a truce was sealed with an armistice. A detailed peace treaty had followed, and, once certain terms were met, Vandelius was permitted to rejoin the Alliance. For two years Elithor had honored the treaty, but whether Ashton would uphold his father's efforts remained to be seen.

"I wouldn't put it past him," Impa replied in a scornful tone. "Shall I read it aloud?"

I handed her the letter. "Please."

She broke the seal and unfolded the parchment, beginning with Ashton's familiar salutation:

.

"My dearest Zelda,

"It is my sincerest hope that you are well, and that this letter reaches you in the best of health. I trust you are curious to know the developments in my life since we last parted ways, but I shan't waste your time rambling about the past. I would much prefer to address more present matters, and so I shall.

"As you must know, I recently inherited my late father's throne, as well any treaty bearing his signature — including the peace agreement signed by Elithor and your late father. Now that both men have passed on, the tension between Hyrule and Vandelius feels more strained than ever. Therefore, to help ease this tension, I wish to review the contents of those treaties with you in a private meeting. I find no reason to uphold agreements I never made.

"If you wish to maintain peace between our kingdoms, then I advise you to schedule a rendezvous here at Vandelle Castle. Furthermore, you would be wise to note that I do not, by any means, negotiate with commoners. If one happens to be in your midst when you cross the border into my kingdom, I will consider it a deliberate offense, and the negotiations will not take place. Believe me when I tell you such an incident would not bode well for Hyrule.

"I sincerely look forward to your Majesty's response."

.

"Signed, Ashton Iladius Regaldi, King of Vandelius," Impa finished, lowering the letter to meet my gaze.

I did not return her look. I stared out the far window, picturing the despicable grin Ashton surely wore as he wrote those words. This was no invitation. This was a warning, a threat weakly veiled with good intention.

"It's happening, Impa," I whispered. "He wants to finish what we started. To reclaim what he thinks belongs to him."

"Now, Zelda, let's not jump to conclusions. He obviously has some personal agenda, but he has no grounds for war — the Alliance wouldn't stand for it."

I shook my head, knowing Ashton would not give up so easily.

"A rendezvous at Vandelle," Impa murmured, glancing at the letter. "The Council likely won't approve of it, and Link definitely won't."

Link… I turned away from the window, recalling Ashton's rude insinuation, his blatant refusal to acknowledge Link as my husband.

"I don't want him at the meeting," I said softly.

"Zelda…"

"I will tell him about it myself."

"You're going to make a decision without him?"

"Impa, of course not. I want to gauge the Council's reaction first, and then I'll discuss it with Link. The final decision will be made tomorrow."

"Fair enough. Shall I summon the Council then?"

"I suppose you'd better," I sighed. "Before the whole castle knows."

xxxxxxx

The Council assembled within the hour, and again Impa read Ashton's letter aloud for the other ministers. Once finished, she took her seat and waited while they pondered Ashton's words.

"Bold terms," Elena's voice broke the silence, "considering the fragility of the situation…"

"Bold? His terms are outrageous," Kinsley exclaimed. "Considering our history with Vandelius, it seems he's forgotten how the Retribution War ended."

"He's only asked to review the treaties," Vasilis argued. "We have maintained peace for two years now; let's not cast it aside out of spite. We must be cautious."

"Ashton has already crossed a line," I reminded him. "If he truly wishes to review these treaties in the name of peace, then he should have offered to come here."

"He threatened her Majesty in this letter," Kinsley added. "And he completely disregarded Prince Link. Submitting to his demands would be an act of weakness."

"And refusing them would jeopardize everything," Vasilis snapped.

"Enough," I spoke before Kinsley could fuel the argument. "Clearly we must find some sort of compromise."

"Your Majesty, you cannot go to Vandelle Castle," Renae spoke, her face lined with worry. "It is much too dangerous."

"Agreed," Kinsley said. "There's no telling what he would do."

"Well, Ashton certainly won't come here," Matteus scoffed.

"Perhaps…" Impa spoke, pondering aloud. "Perhaps Ashton would agree to meet us halfway… at the borderline."

Silence fell as we considered her words.

"It's a reasonable request," I said with approval. "Meeting at the borderline would strip either party of a territorial advantage. Since it is our proposal, we could offer to prepare a rendezvous site."

"But what of the Lord General?" Kinsley inquired. "He will want to accompany you."

"Then he shall," I said simply.

A few ministers exchanged reluctant glances, Vasilis included.

"Your Majesty," he said, his tone dripping with patience, "Lord Ashton specifically requested he not be present."

"I realize that, minister. But honoring that request would mean dishonoring my husband, which I will not do."

"Your Majesty…" Elena said carefully. "You have traveled without him before…"

"That is beside the point. I will not tolerate anyone dismissing him."

My words faded into uneasy silence as the ministers considered an alternative.

"No one has to know Prince Link was forbidden to accompany you, your Majesty," Renae offered. "The contents of the letter can be kept secret."

"You know that's impossible," I sighed. "There will be talk."

Again the ministers fell silent, and I knew we had reached an impasse.

"I wish to discuss this matter with my husband," I finally said. "We will reconvene tomorrow morning, and I will present our decision."

The Council murmured their consent, and quickly I adjourned the meeting. I remained seated while they filed out of the room, as did Impa.

I dreaded my impending discussion with Link. His history with Ashton involved nothing but fierce rivalry and contempt. Since the day I introduced them almost fifteen years ago, Ashton had refused to treat Link with kindness or respect, and, being the possessive, controlling man he was, Ashton had resented my close friendship with Link. In turn, Link had loathed Ashton's arrogant, haughty demeanor, and for a while he envied him for claiming my romantic affection. It wasn't until Link learned of my experience in Vandelius, however, that he truly grew to despise him.

The two had readily fought each other during the Retribution War, releasing their pent up hostility in one monumental fight to the death. Link had nearly won before Ashton's soldiers came to his rescue, and the two had not faced each other since.

Even after the Retribution War ended, Link still feared Ashton's inevitable return. His worries had faded since our marriage, but I sensed Ashton's recent coronation had revived them. Link would see Ashton's letter as a threat to our happiness — the happiness he fought so hard to earn.

"There's no way to soften this blow," I murmured softly.

"For Link, you mean."

I nodded sadly. "Things have been stressful enough, and now…" I trailed off with a sigh. "Impa, I worry about him."

A brief, knowing smile tugged at her lips. "Yes, I can't remember a time when you haven't."

"Something has been troubling him… I've sensed it since father passed away. But he won't talk about it, and I don't know why."

"Have you approached him about it?"

"Of course," I shrugged, "but you know how he is. He simply denies anything is wrong and forces a smile, knowing I can sense otherwise."

I rose from my chair with a sigh, hugging my arms as I moved to a nearby window. Outside the world was bare and grey — typical April weather.

"It's not like him to keep anything from you," Impa said.

Not true, I wanted to say. Link often chose to bear his burdens alone — he'd done so most of his life. It would take more than two years of marriage to change that.

"I think I know what's bothering him," I said softly. "I think he fears being… cast out."

"Cast out?" Impa echoed. "As in an annulment?"

I nodded, still gazing out the window.

"He knows I love him… but I think he still feels like an intruder, and that someday I'll be forced to let him go. I try so hard to be both Hyrule's queen and Link's wife, but..."

"But he fears you will have to choose one over the other."

"Yes," I whispered. "Sometimes even I fear that."

Impa sat back in her chair, crossing her arms with a sigh. "When do you plan to tell him about Ashton's letter? You should do it soon, before he hears it from the wrong person."

"I intend to," I assured her. "But right now I'm expected at court."

"Don't let this trouble you too much," she soothed. "We will resolve this, one way or another."

I nodded sadly, knowing Link would not respond with such optimism.

We then left the Council Chamber and parted ways, as Impa preferred to avoid court whenever possible. I did not have that luxury, so I headed toward the throne room with slow, heavy strides.

xxxxxxx

The Audience Chamber, also known as the throne room, was as beautiful as it was massive. Used for ceremonies, smaller celebratory feasts, and other social gatherings, it was known throughout the world for its tasteful magnificence. Brilliant paintings depicting scenes of Hyrulean history adorned the pale stone walls, separated by rich tapestries and soaring windows. My throne, gilded and upholstered in blue velvet, was certainly impressive, but the vaulted ceiling was the chamber's most stunning feature. An enormous painting stretched from corner to corner, depicting a beautiful interpretation of Hyrule's creation story. People from all across the world visited our castle simply to admire that painting.

The chamber was already bustling with activity when I arrived. Tables had been set up along the walls, used to serve water, coffee, and tea. A sizable crowd of lords and ladies stood in their usual clusters, and a band provided a soothing musical backdrop with lutes and harps.

One guard entered the chamber before me, thumping his spear against the floor before shouting my introduction above the noise.

"Her Majesty, the Queen!"

He then stepped aside, as I entered the chamber, followed by two more guards. Instantly the music stopped, and everyone paused to give me their undivided attention. One by one they cleared a path with bows and curtsies. I nodded in return, wishing, as always, that Link had accompanied me — not simply for my benefit, but for his own.

He did not attend court as often as I did, mainly because of his military duties. When he did appear he always made a remarkable impression, better than he would admit. As a younger man he had struggled with socializing in court, but those problems vanished as he matured. His lessons from Kinsley and Shayne had taught him to be a proper courtier, and years of military service helped him overcome his insecurities.

Link did not realize it, but most of the people in my court truly enjoyed his company. Even those with reservations about his social status made no effort to hide their interest in him. His intelligence and his eloquence were expected, but his warm, genuine personality often surprised people. His humble origins, as well as his past experiences, had taught him to be anything but superficial. Link was a more reserved individual, but his conversation was direct and his words sincere.

Sadly, so few people gave him the chance to show his quality — for more reasons than one. Some thought him a peasant in rich clothing. Others felt threatened by a lord so different from the rest. Still others — mainly women — objectified him, focusing on his handsome looks and failing to develop any real respect. Fortunately these people formed the minority of my court, but I worried their whispers might poison the majority.

.

Wanting to ease away from everyone's attention, I motioned for the musicians to resume their performance. Immediately they struck up their previous tunes, and my ladies-in-waiting swarmed about me like colorful bees to a hive.

"Your Majesty, you look radiant as usual this morning."

"Thank you, Lady Margarete," I replied, forcing a smile. I certainly did not feel radiant.

They fell silent as I made my way through the crowd to converse with various lords and ladies. Most were eager to please, talking about themselves and their families only when I asked. And I did ask, always with an air of genuine interest — regardless of what I felt inside. I took great care to be the gracious host they desired.

Finally I made my way to the throne, taking a seat as my ladies-in-waiting settled around me. I often tired of their superficial conversation, but at times their gossip proved useful. I listened to rumor with half an ear, but it helped me stay informed.

The ladies had barely begun to discuss their personal lives when a familiar voice rose above the others.

"Lady Zelda, is it true the Council has once again denied Prince Link the Rite of Kingship?"

Warily I turned to the speaker — Lady Alicia Grefaire.

She was the oldest woman in the group, though her curled blond hair and sharp green eyes remained fairly untouched by age. Years ago she had been popular among the court and soon married a handsome courtier. They had seemed an ideal match until one day, less than one year later, Alicia discovered he had secretly taken a servant girl as his mistress. An ugly divorce had followed, and her former husband — no longer a member of my court — had found a new home somewhere beyond Hyrule's borders. His mistress had disappeared around the same time, leaving everyone to draw the obvious conclusion. Alicia had never truly recovered from the scandal, and her husband's betrayal had left her deeply embittered.

Despite her misfortune, I had limited sympathy for Alicia. Our acquaintanceship had always been superficial at best, and her past infatuation with Link made our friendship nearly impossible. She had once pursued him quite shamelessly, despite being ten years his senior, but her invitations had gone unanswered — much to the court's amusement. Although she could never express it, I knew she resented Link for refusing her and me for claiming him as my consort.

"Oh, I don't understand it," Lady Isabelle scoffed. "I can't see what he's doing wrong."

"He's done nothing wrong," I corrected her. "Coronation is a complicated process, and the Council simply wishes to be thorough. Every meeting is another step toward granting him the Rite."

They seemed to accept this, but I knew they never dared to outwardly oppose me.

"Well, my family is quite pleased with him," Lady Eleanor spoke up.

"Yes, mine as well," another added. "And the public simply adores him."

"My cousin has been a soldier for years, and I know he holds the Lord General in highest esteem."

"Well, whatever the Council believes," Margarete piped up, "he certainly looks kingly enough!"

Some women burst into giggles, much to my annoyance.

"Mind your words, Margarete," I warned her gently. "He is your superior."

She blushed and apologized, as did the others. An awkward silence passed before Isabelle changed the subject — more or less.

"How time flies! I can hardly believe you'll be married two years in May! Will there be a celebration?"

"Of course," I smiled. "We hope the court will share in our happiness."

"Oh, but you'll have a private getaway afterward, won't you?"

I gave a more reserved, almost coy smile, much to the ladies' delight.

"Oh, where to?" Margarete asked. "Near Hylia? Or perhaps farther east?"

"It's hardly a private getaway if she tells you, Margarete."

"Oh, it's somewhere romantic, I'm sure!"

"Two years already," Alicia's thoughtful tone drifted above the others. "How delightful to be so happily wed… Why, with a union like yours, it's a wonder we have no heir."

Her words struck a cold, unexpected blow, rendering me momentarily stunned. The ladies stared at her, knowing she had crossed a line.

"Alicia," one whispered as she glanced toward me.

"Oh, but I'm simply repeating what I've heard," Alicia replied, clearly unfazed. "In fact I hear the Council will continue to deny him the Rite until an heir is born. The court is beginning to wonder whether he is a… suitable consort."

Rage smothered my initial shock, and deep within me something snapped.

"How dare you," I hissed. "How dare you judge him!"

Alicia looked utterly surprise, her red lips parted as she struggled for a response. "Forgive me, my Lady, I only meant —"

"I know what you meant!" I shouted. "How dare you say such a thing to my face!"

The ladies stared at me, clearly alarmed, and they weren't alone — the entire court had gone silent. A sea of startled faces watched me, and the weight of my outburst fell back upon me. My body felt rigid as stone, but somehow I rose to my feet.

"I — I must take my leave," I said in a quieter voice. "…I don't feel well."

I hurried across the seemingly endless chamber, remembering not to run as people moved aside. The guards moved to open the doors for me, and I left the room without looking back.

On and on I walked, grateful for my softer, quieter shoes. I hurried up two flights of stairs, ignoring the inquisitive looks from staff members and other residents I passed. Only when I saw the entrance to my study did I allow myself to run. Inside I locked the door and collapsed against it, sliding down onto the floor. My heart pounded in my throat as Alicia's words rang through my ears again and again.

"…with a union like yours, it's a wonder we have no heir."

Link and I had been married nearly two happy years, and I had yet to conceive a child. Our first year had flown by without concern, but as our second wedding anniversary drew closer Link and I had begun to worry. Our marriage had been consummated time and time again… surely nature would have taken its course by now?

I knew I was the reason we could not conceive. My mother had also struggled with fertility, and I feared I had inherited that from her. She suffered two miscarriages before I was born, and my birth had tragically taken her life. Years ago I had worried the same fate awaited me, but those fears had faded by the time I married Link. Now I was haunted by the idea of never bearing children, of being barren.

Link and I had never allowed our concerns to reach the public. Whenever the subject came up, we smiled and gave some vague, confident response. But as the months passed, those assurances began to sound like excuses. The pressure to produce an heir had seeped into our personal lives, tainting our intimacy with obligation.

Duty. It followed us into our most private hours.

I knew my behavior in court would bring consequences. By losing my composure I exposed the unworried façade Link and I tried to maintain. People had already begun to whisper about the absence of an heir… and I had confirmed their suspicions.

"You fool," I whispered, burying my face against my knees. You ridiculous fool.