"Let's go to the pier," Impa suggests as we drive through the city. I love how enchanted the streets and buildings look at night.

"It's almost 8 PM," I remind her. "You promised we'd be back early."

"At your service, Your Highness."

I throw my head in her direction and she sticks her tongue out.

"I didn't make the rules," I shrug.

"Oh please, even if the curfew didn't exist you'd still want to go home this early. You're just such a goody two shoes."

"What can I say? My seven boyfriends shouldn't be left home alone for too long. They are anxiously waiting to be walked and fed."

"What are they? Dogs?" She laughs. "Do they also poop on the carpet if you leave them alone for too long?"

I shrug and try to imagine a boy waiting for me at home. An actual boyfriend.

"I wouldn't be surprised if you treated your first boyfriend like a pup," Impa says, breaking through my thoughts.

I can't argue that, but I wouldn't agree either. To be honest, I have no idea how I'd treat a boyfriend. I blush just at the thought of it. Me and a boy. That's just preposterous.

The drive home feels much faster. I'm sad that the time with Impa has to end but I'm happy to be home nevertheless. I love and hate her for making me forget about my responsibilities. As she parks her car in the driveway I grab my bag from the back seat and search for my keys inside.

"Your father isn't even home yet," Impa says, observing the open parking spot next to my white range rover.

"He never is at this time."

"So let's go to the pier then!"

I choose to ignore her as I climb out of her car. I walk over to the driver's side and she rolls down her window.

"I had fun tonight," I admit, keys in hand.

"I know you did. Let's do that again next week."

"Why not," I smile and say good night.

"Hey, Zelda?" she calls after me. "We can have lunch Tuesdays and Thursdays if you're still free at that time."

"Only if you bring fruit cake."

"You've got yourself a deal."

We shake hands like important businessmen while suppressing our laughter, then she drives off. Sometimes I feel like another person when I'm with Impa. Like a truer version of myself. I can act however I want without fearing judgment. But now that she's gone and I am walking up to the big front door I feel out of place and my fun moments with Impa suddenly appear idiotic and like something I should be ashamed for. The moment I step into the foyer, my heart feels heavy, the air is too thick to breathe, and my smile turns into an irreversible frown. The home may be deserted of people, but it is filled with intolerance and high expectations.

When I enter my room I am surprised to see that it is only a few minutes past 8 PM. I assumed we were going to be gone for much longer, which is why I was dreading to go in the first place. I thought about going back to campus to study in the library tonight, but the drive is thirty minutes each way, so it's not worth going when I have to be back by 10 PM anyways. I'll just go tomorrow and Sunday.

Luckily, I have my own beautiful workspace right here in my room; a white desk decorated with succulents, lights, some of my favorite novels, a calendar, and photos of me and Impa, and... Mother. I pick up the frame as I sit down in my chair and lose myself in the comforting memories of a distant past. My conscience is telling me No Distractions! but I push that thought right back into the corner of my head. Mother is the one distraction I will always allow.

I get a good amount of work done by the time my eyes feel dry and heavy. I check my phone, it's nearly midnight. Father should be home by now, but my room is pretty far away from his study, and his bedroom is on the other end of the hallway, so unless he stops by to talk to me our paths won't cross today. But I'm used to that. We're used to that.

✤ ✤ ✤

My alarm wakes me shortly before 7 AM and I get up immediately to get ready for breakfast. I'm still exhausted from yesterday's study session and my arms hurt when I lift them. Stupid volleyball.

Father is reading sitting on the sofa by the fireplace when I enter the kitchen to grab some strawberries.

"Good morning," I say and he raises his finger to shush me while his eyes follow the words on the page. A few seconds later, he closes his book and turns his head towards me.

"My apologies, I wanted to finish this paragraph."

"What book are you reading?" I ask.

"The Crown's Fate by Evelyn Skye."

"How are you liking it? I read the first part last year."

"I cannot say quite yet. I just started it a few minutes ago."

Can't be prejudiced? That's a first, I think to myself.

"Don't eat too much," he says, gesturing at the tiny strawberry in my hand. "The cook will be here any moment to prepare breakfast."

"Oh, I was hoping I could skip breakfast and visit the library."

"Are you behind in your classes?"

"No," I say too quickly. He arches his brow and I remember that I promised not to lie. "Yes, actually, I am. Yesterday I added three new classes to my schedule, all of which I've missed two weeks of coursework in. So it is to be expected that I am a little behind," I can hear my growing annoyance in my voice despite my efforts to stay calm. I force a change in my tone to avoid an argument. "But I'm trying to catch up over the weekend and even get ahead in all of my classes."

"That's good to hear but don't be sloppy."

I hate how he thinks that just because I work fast, I'll do a bad job. I always put a lot of effort into my work. I should just nod and leave before I misbehave or say the wrong thing.

"Yes, Father," I say politely through my teeth and grab my book bag and car keys.

I arrive on campus shortly after 9 AM. The hallways and classrooms are empty, but there are a few studious souls scattered in the library. I find a seat, far away from other students and get started on my readings. In the quietness and peace that consumes me I forget all about the world around me and let my mind be fully occupied by the literature before me. Hours pass by without me noticing it and I don't look up from my textbooks until the chair next to me is suddenly taken by another student. When I look at him briefly I feel like I've seen his face before, but I can't quite put my finger on it.

"Exploring the Universe by Michael Seeds," the guy reads the title of the book I'm holding. "Are you taking Astronomy with Professor Astor?"

"Yes." My manners make my eyes look at him when I answer his question but I don't turn my head in his direction to minimise the amount of attention I give him. He must see that I'm busy.

"Me too." He studies the profile of my face for a moment and smiles. "I'm sorry."

"What for?" For distracting me or for staring at me like a creep?

"That it took me so long."

"What?"

"I'm sorry that after two weeks of taking Astronomy with you in the same room, I just now noticed you for the first time. I would have talked to you sooner, but in my defense, the planetarium is pretty dark so that's probably why I didn't see you until today. If it counts for anything, the moment you entered the library today I immediately sensed the presence of divine beauty. So... I'm sorry it took me this long to approach you."

"I... I haven't attended astronomy," I explain, ignoring his strange compliment. His voice sounds uncannily familiar, but I can't remember where I've heard it before.

"Well," he looks perplexed. "I shall inform you that attendance is mandatory. Your grades may suffer if you don't attend the lectures."

"I'm aware. I haven't attended class before because I just added astronomy to my schedule yesterday." Not that it's any of his business, but I hope it'll make him go away.

"That makes perfect sense." He puts his elbow on the desk, supports his chin with his hand, and smiles at me in silence.

"What are you doing?" I ask him irritated.

"Just appreciating your beauty. I'm an aesthete."

Embarrassment heats my face. I clunch to my books, longing for the courage to tell him to stare at someone else. What he's saying is sweet, but he has chosen the wrong girl for this, and the wrong place. I need silence and--

"Space," he finishes my thought. Can he read minds? "A beautiful topic to read about, wouldn't you agree? Nearly as beautiful as you. We've covered a lot of material in the past weeks. Here, I'll help you with the assign--"

"No," I interrupt him harshly and pull my book away from his grip. I don't want to hurt his feelings, but I need to focus on my work and his presence is making that harder than it should be. His charming smile doesn't wither, no, he seems amused. Challenged.

"You don't like me," he states carefree.

I shake my head. "I don't know you."

"No, but I know you. You're Zelda Hyrule. I heard your family was prejudiced, but I still hoped perhaps you'd prove those rumors to be false."

"I'm not prejudiced, just busy," I defend and get hushed by a librarian.

"Busy?" he whispers.

"Yes, I'm trying to catch up," I gesture at the astronomy textbook in front of me.

"I can see that. However, if you'd accept my offer you'd catch up much quicker."

"I work better alone," I say even though I could really use his help. "I can do this on my own," I add.

"I know you can. But you don't have to."

"I want to."

He finally nods and gets up.

"I will leave you to it then." He makes half a step but turns around again to face me. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable," he says and I look up at him, "You are just so beautiful and bright, like the stars. To be quite frank, I was convinced you receive compliments as often as you receive A's, if not more, but now I know you don't. The way your cheeks flush when I call you beautiful tells me so. It's a shame really. Beauty should always be acknowledged. I won't hesitate to compliment you again. Promise."

I believe him when he says my cheeks are flushed... But I'm more flattered by the fact that he called me bright than beautiful. Before I can come up with anything better than a bleak Thank you he has left my desk. I'm quite terrible at receiving compliments, so I'm thankful that he left before I had to reply and I pray he won't keep his promise.