“How are your hands?” Zelda asked once they’d occupied their usual seats in their little dining hall.

In response to the question, Liesl let her spoon rest on the lip of the bowl and then brought both her hands closer to her face. The faint scratches remained, but no pain persisted. “They’re fine, see?” She turned them over and let Zelda inspect them for what had to be the hundredth time. However, it didn’t bother Liesl and she would do it as many times as the Princess wanted. It was the least she could do, right? For helping in the first place.“ It doesn’t hurt to hold my spoon or anything.” Sure, there was some residual healing that still needed to happen, but she could use her hands just fine. 

“Good,” Zelda said with a nod of her head and a visible relaxation of the rest of her body. “A part of me still can’t believe I did it…” But she had done it, even if her subsequent attempt didn’t prove as fruitful. 

After the surge of healing magic in the courtyard, Impa and Rowan took the girls to the infirmary to see if a similar situation could provoke Zelda’s magic again. It was mostly full of guards and servants who’d hurt themselves doing this or that in the line of their duties. Nothing serious. However, the Princess wasn’t able to summon her magic once more and the little group ended up leaving even more confused than when they arrived. 

“Do you… think it’s because you used your magic up for the day?” Liesl knew she didn’t have to specify what she was referring to because that latest failure no doubt weighed on Zelda’s mind.

“Maybe,” she admitted with a shrug. “And maybe that’s why your hands didn’t heal all the way? I could’ve run out of magic before they could.” 

Liesl didn’t know about how that all worked, but that explanation seemed as reasonable as any? “Did you use up some during your training today?” 

The question had Zelda wince as if it had been a physical blow and Liesl immediately wished she could take it back. 

“I…no, I didn’t use any during my training.” Zelda sighed following her admission and then hung her head instead of continuing.

The air around them became quiet for a few moments, and Liesl fidgeted nervously with the tablecloth after her hands dropped. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

“It’s okay. Besides, you should know. You are supposed to be my friend and friends don’t lie to each other, right?”

“Right.”

“Good. Then I’ll tell you the truth.” However, that was clearly easier said than done, and Zelda looked like she was taking a moment to figure out what she wanted to say. “I’m bad at using my magic. Really bad.”

Well, that came as a shock to Liesl. She’d only known Zelda for a short time but the Princess didn’t seem bad at anything. “You are?”

“Yes. When I healed your hand… that was the first time I’ve been able to do something like that.”

The first time? Maybe her inexperience was to blame? Or something else? “Are your teachers not helping?”

“They’re trying, but without my mother, it’s difficult. My grandma taught her and her mother taught my grandma. On and on back through our family, the mother teaches the daughter because she’s the one that passes the magic down.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize.” So, losing her mother had far-reaching consequences beyond that of a child losing a parent.

“It’s okay. Everyone’s trying really hard. I’m just a failure.” A shrug accompanied Zelda’s assertion, and it was uttered so casually that Liesl almost didn’t catch it at first. And when she realized what Zelda said, her expression softened, and she pushed her hand further out on the table and turned it over. 

“You aren’t a failure. Just look at my hand.”

For her part, Zelda managed a weak smile and a nod as her face lifted and her eyes settled on the faint remnants of the injury. A hundred and one times would hopefully do the trick. “Thanks, I guess not all the way. I wish I could’ve helped those soldiers too, though.” 

Liesl could only nod in agreement as she would’ve liked them to be healed like her, but she didn’t want to say as much and hurt Zelda’s feelings even more. So, she picked her spoon back up and continued eating dinner in silence until Zelda cleared her throat. “Why were you running, anyway? Before you got hurt?”

Oh, that’s right. They’d been rushed off to the infirmary so fast that she didn’t even get a chance to explain what led up to the injury in the first place. “Rowan and I were playing games,” she answered with her own shrug. “Tag, actually. I was trying to get to the door, and he was chasing me when I fell.”

“So, that’s why you were running toward me…toward the door.”

“Yup. He said I could have two pieces of cake if I made it.” 

“Two pieces!” Zelda repeated in surprise. “Whoa, I wish I could play games with Rowan. I thought you were training too?”

“Nope,” Liesl said with a shake of her head for emphasis. “And it doesn’t matter because I didn’t make it.” And she had been so close! Not that she blamed Zelda and Impa. If anything, she should’ve paid more attention to her surroundings and not let herself get distracted.

“I’m sorry.”

“That’s okay, one is still good.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” 

However, much to their surprise, three pieces of cake appeared on the table after their dinner was cleaned away. Both girls looked confused by the woman who brought them, but she only greeted them with soft laughter. “I heard someone made a deal today. So, enjoy the victory.”

Zelda’s eyes flicked from the cake to the woman and finally to Liesl, once the servant woman turned away and started walking back toward the kitchen. A warm smile was on her face, clearly happy her friend had received an extra piece even if she hadn’t. “I guess Rowan felt like you won,” she said before the smile grew shakier. 

Hmm, it didn’t seem fair to Liesl that Zelda didn’t have a second piece when she’d done something so incredible. Besides, Liesl didn’t even finish!

“Well, I think you won too, so…” Liesl reached for Zelda’s plate and pulled it closer, leaving a confused look behind on the Princess’s face. That’s was fine; she would understand in a moment. Liesl did the same to the extra piece before using her knife to cut it and split it between them.

“Liesl, you did have to do that. It’s your cake,” Zelda protested. 

“I know, and I want to share. So, thank you for healing my hands.”  

Zelda looked as though she were surprised and her gaze went from her friend to the cake, back to Liesl, before nodding her head. “Oh, thank you!”

“You’re welcome,” Liesl said before returning the smile and digging in. Both girls were so focused on the cake that they didn’t even notice the door close from where it was cracked on the far side of the room.

Once dessert was demolished, their nighttime routine remained the same. Impa came to collect the girls, and they were each bathed, dressed, and subsequently put to bed. The day had turned out pretty good, all things considered, but once Liesl was back in her room, tucked in her bed and all alone, that slowly started to change.

It had been so easy to block out the grim thoughts that threatened to invade her mind by focusing on Zelda or Rowan or any other number of wonderful things about the castle. Even less-than-favorable interactions with the King were a distraction from what happened to her parents. However, now that she was in her bed with nothing else to dwell on, those thoughts came rushing in.

Not just the despair at the loss of her parents and her life before that horrible afternoon. No, there was also a shame that she was here enjoying herself and having fun so soon after her parents died. Should she be running around playing games? Eating chocolate cake? Making new, happy memories without them? It felt… wrong. Was she honoring their memory like a good daughter should or trying to forget their loss so she didn’t have to deal with the pain?

Soon, any logical thought gave way to the sadness that gripped her heart. Which meant that not only did sleep evade her, but that tears welled up in hushed sobs. At least that’s what she thought…

“Liesl?”

She hadn’t even heard the door crack open and even if no light illuminated the visitor, she knew it was Zelda by her voice. Now embarrassment swirled with the other emotions and the urge to turn away and hide herself beneath the blankets was almost too great. However, she managed to wipe her face (not that the Princess could see her tears) and clear her throat.

“Zelda? Do you need help?”

“No,” she said before footsteps could be heard coming further into Liesl’s room. “I heard crying and… are you okay?”

Darn, so much for hiding that little fact. “I’m fine.”

“Liesl, what did I say about lying to royalty?” Of course, there was no chastisement in her voice, only a playful softness. Worse yet, she was lying to her new friend!

“I – I miss my parents,” Liesl admitted before shutting her eyes to stymie the next round of tears. When she opened them again, she could see the outline of Zelda standing by her bed in the faint moonlight that poured in through her window.

“Yeah, I thought so…” In the pause, she reached out her hand and then waited expectantly. “Come on, you don’t have to be sad alone.”

A part of Liesl had wanted to sneak back into Zelda’s earlier room, but the light hadn’t come on and she didn’t want to be a burden. She was supposed to be here helping, right? And yet, she couldn’t help but reach out and take that hand. Whereupon Zelda began pulling, bringing Liesl out of her bed and leading them wordlessly to hers. 

Once Liesl climbed in and claimed some pillows that were left on her side, Zelda followed but stopped short of lying down. “I was just going to go to sleep since I’m tired. Do you want me to read to you instead?”

“No,” Liesl said with a shake of her head. “It’s okay, this is enough.”

“Alright.” Apparently not content to fully let it go without doing something, Zelda turned until she faced Liesl, reached out under the covers until she found one of her hands, and cupped it gently. A silent squeeze followed and she made no effort to separate thereafter.

Did it make all of Liesl’s sadness go away? No. But enough of it was replaced with the warmth of this new friendship that the tears on her cheeks eventually dried, not replaced by the stream of fresh ones. Zelda, Rowan, Impa, and countless others who didn’t even know her had offered their sympathy and kindness (even if the King hadn’t). So maybe, just maybe, she would be okay here after all.