The days blur together, each one more demanding than the last. Link wakes before dawn and trains until his muscles ache, his sword cutting through the morning air as the guards around him struggle to keep up. Every sparring match, every tactic he practices, is done with one thought in his mind: protect Zelda. Keep her safe. But as he slashes through the training dummies, he can't shake the feeling that something's off.

There's a tension in the air—unspoken but present.

After training, Link rushes to Zelda's side as her personal knight, shadowing her every step as she moves through the castle halls. Some days, it's simple escort duties—walking her to and from meetings, keeping a vigilant eye on the surroundings. Other days, they're called into action—missions to deal with the Yiga Clan, intelligence briefings, or strategy sessions with the king. Yet, no matter the task, there's a constant strain between them.

Link notices the looks Zelda gives him. They're not openly critical, but there's an edge to them. A questioning in her eyes, as if she's assessing his every action. It's subtle, but it's there—an unspoken doubt.

Today, they ride to a distant village in need of protection from raiders. The air is cool, and the wind whips through the trees as their horses gallop across the plains. Zelda rides ahead, her posture stiff, her silence louder than any words. Link keeps pace beside her, his eyes scanning the horizon, but his mind drifts.

He'd wanted to see Leona before they left. He'd promised her he'd stop by, but by the time he finished the morning's briefing with Zelda, there had been no time. Again. He'd sent her a quick message, apologizing, but it feels empty. It's the same excuse every day now—duty comes first, and their time together dwindles.

As they reach the village, Zelda dismounts without a word. She's efficient, her focus unshakable as she speaks with the village elder. Link stands nearby, keeping watch, but his mind isn't fully in the moment. He can feel the guilt creeping in again, the same guilt he's been battling for weeks.

Once the village is secured, they ride back in silence. The sky darkens, and the first stars begin to dot the horizon. It's peaceful in a way, but the quiet between them feels heavy. Link glances at Zelda, hoping to break the silence, but before he can say anything, she speaks.

"You've been... distracted lately, Link."

Her words catch him off guard. He turns toward her, surprised. "Distracted? How?"

Zelda doesn't look at him, her gaze fixed ahead. "I've noticed it. You're not as focused as you used to be."

Link's grip on the reins tightens. He wants to protest, to tell her that he's giving everything he has to protect her, but deep down, he knows what she means. His mind has been elsewhere—on Leona, on the time he's missing with her, on the weight of his dual roles as both Zelda's knight and Leona's partner.

"I'm trying," he says quietly.

Zelda nods, but then hesitates for a moment, her eyes softening slightly. "It's not easy, I know. Balancing your duty with your... personal life. But sometimes, Link, what's best for the people we care about isn't always what we think." She finally looks at him, her gaze direct but not unkind. "Maybe it's time to think about Leona's safety. Hyrule is becoming more dangerous by the day, and if anything happened to her..."

Link's heart sinks as he hears her words. The thought of Leona being in danger because of him terrifies him, but Zelda continues.

"Perhaps it would be best if she were somewhere... safer. Somewhere farther away from the conflict, where you wouldn't be so... distracted." Zelda's voice is gentle, but the suggestion lands with a weight Link can't ignore. She's not outright asking him to send Leona away, but the implication is clear.

"I just want what's best for both of you," Zelda adds, her expression soft but firm.

Link looks away, her words lingering in his mind. He doesn't respond, but the guilt swirls inside him, the conflict between his duty to the kingdom and his love for Leona growing more unbearable with each passing day.

Later that night, Link makes his way to Leona's chambers. The day has drained him, his body sore from training and his mind exhausted from Zelda's words. But as he steps inside and sees Leona waiting for him, a small smile on her face, he feels a brief sense of relief.

"Rough day?" she asks, crossing the room to greet him.

Link nods, sinking into the chair by the window. "It feels like they're all rough now."

Leona sits beside him, her hand resting on his arm. "You're doing everything you can, Link. You know that, right?"

He looks at her, searching for the comfort in her words. "I don't know if it's enough."

"It is." Her voice is firm, but there's a softness in her eyes. "You're protecting Hyrule, the princess, everyone. That's all that matters."

"I gotta tell you something." Link admits. "Zelda suggested that... it would be safer if you weren't around the castle. You know, with everything happening."

Leona pauses, her eyes searching his face for a moment. "She said that?"

Link nods, guilt gnawing at him. "She thinks it would be safer for you, and that I'd be able to focus more if you were... somewhere else."

Leona's fingers trace his jawline gently, her touch soothing. "Do you think that's what's best?"

"I don't know," Link mutters, closing his eyes for a moment. "I just don't want you to be in danger."

"I'm not in danger, Link," Leona says softly. "I'm here with you, where I belong. Sending me away won't make things better, for either of us."

Link opens his eyes, meeting her gaze. There's something steady about her, something grounding. She's always been his anchor, the one thing that keeps him from slipping under the weight of his duties.

"I just want to make sure you're safe," he whispers.

"I am safe," Leona says gently. "Because you're here. You've always been here for me, Link. Don't let anyone make you doubt that."

Link pulls her into a tight embrace, holding onto her as if she's the only thing keeping him from falling apart. For a moment, the pressure of the day fades away, replaced by the warmth of her presence. But as he closes his eyes, the weight of Zelda's words still lingers in the back of his mind.

The next morning, Link finds himself in the castle training yard again, the sounds of swords clashing and grunts of effort filling the air. Zelda is there, overseeing the session as usual, her gaze sharp and focused. But today, something feels different. She's quieter, more watchful, as if she's evaluating him with every move he makes.

As the training session wraps up, Zelda approaches him, her expression unreadable. "Good work today," she says, her tone polite but distant.

"Thanks," Link replies, wiping the sweat from his brow. He can feel the tension between them, the unspoken doubt that's been lingering for days.

Zelda hesitates for a moment, then looks him in the eye. "I know this hasn't been easy. The pressure, the responsibility... it's a lot to carry."

Link nods, unsure where she's going with this.

"I just need to know that your focus is where it needs to be," she continues, her voice soft but firm. "Hyrule is at a critical point, and we can't afford to be... distracted."

Link swallows hard, the guilt rising in his chest. "I'm focused," he says, though the words feel like they're weighed down by everything he's been carrying.

Zelda studies him for a moment, her eyes softening with a hint of empathy. "I believe you, Link. I really do. But we don't have the luxury of taking things lightly anymore. Every day brings new dangers, new threats. You won't have much time to relax now—not with what's coming."

Link hears the words, but they sting nonetheless. You won't have much time to relax. It feels like a judgment, like an accusation that he's been taking things too easily, that he's been careless. His chest tightens, the weight of it all pressing down on him.

"I understand," he says, though the guilt and doubt are eating away at him.

Zelda nods, her expression softening just a bit more. "I'm glad to hear that."