blossoming

Chapter 1: The Beginning

The sunlight cast a warm glow on Princess Zelda's face as she stood atop my modeling stool, uncomfortably holding her arms in a t pose as I attempted to acquire her body measurements so I could fashion her a new ceremonial gown.

"Hold still, your Highness," I giggled. "This will only take a second!"

Zelda scoffed. "Must I have a new gown? It seems that the only things my wardrobe consists of is white dresses and tiaras."

"You must, your Highness." I smiled. "It is to be seen that the heir apparent to Hyrule's throne be clothed in garments fit for the Goddess Hylia."

Zelda rolled her eyes, but remained in the uncomfortable position as I wrapped the measuring tape around her waist.

Princess Zelda was arguably the most beautiful girl in all of Hyrule; truthfully, it was funny how she was seemingly oblivious to the heads that she turned, and the men that she made behave like fools when she was in their presence. Her mother the late Queen was known for her beauty, and Zelda resembled her the most, with her striking green eyes and honey colored hair.

It is one of the reasons why I assumed the King was overbearingly hard on her to unlock her sacred power to stop the Calamity.

Although the princess was two years my junior, I worked as the Royal Dressmaker. When I was a child, my mother and I lived in Hyrule Castle in order for her to work as a dressmaker for King Rhoam and his late Queen. I was then put to work as mother's assistant, such as handing her measuring tape, mending zippers, and embroidering elaborate designs on the fabrics for the King and Queen. However, when mother passed away when I was seventeen, the King decided to appoint me as his daughter's dressmaker since he claimed that her talent seemingly passed on to me. I was thus appointed when the princess was fifteen, and I am responsible for some of her signature garments, such as her royal blue tunic, and her ceremonial gowns that she would use to pray to the Goddess.

The greatest part was that although Zelda was the princess, it seemed like I had a friend close to my age.

"Okay, your Highness," I said, wrapping the measuring tape around my fingers to seal it. "I have finished acquiring your measurements. All that is pending is for me to go and purchase white fabric to fashion the gown."

"Alright," the princess remarked, stepping off of the stool. "I suppose now I should go and practice the script to appoint my guardian," She spat, wrinkling her nose in disgust. "I don't know why father decided to appoint him. I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself."

"Now, princess, I suppose you shouldn't be so hasty to judge Sir Link," I remarked. "He is a very strong knight who wields the legendary sword."

"I don't care," Zelda shook her fists lightly in frustration. "Father should just allow me to lead the Champions on my own accord. I don't need any protection."

Regardless of Sir Link's status as the princess's appointed knight, I have been in his company a number of times, as I have seen him training with the other soldiers of his platoon, or in the servant's dining hall. Although his stoic face was rather intimidating, I knew Link to be seldom clownish along with his fellow knights. I had a suspicion that Zelda was frustrated because Link and the rest of the Champions were already secure with their skills to stop the Calamity, but Zelda, the most important figure in stopping the Calamity, was still unable to unlock her sacred power.

I was rather certain that if Zelda allowed herself to be vulnerable with Link, then they would develop a friendship that went beyond their professionalism. I have told her this, and that perhaps it would be key in unlocking her sacred power; I believed that vulnerability often creates unimaginable things, but Zelda, having inherited her father's stubbornness, refused to listen.

"Zelda," I prodded, gesturing for her to calm down. "Perhaps you should first attempt to be in his company first."

Zelda looked at me with a skeptical look, and took a deep breath. "Alright, Chrysanthemum," she said, gathering her belongings. "I suppose I should take the advice of a friend, just this once."

I grinned, and playfully shooed her out. "Go along, princess," I said. "You mustn't be late for your tutoring session with the Court Poet!"