Zelda Silent Princess Novels & Stories

**** Zelda I woke up, groggy and disoriented, as if I had been pulled from a deep sleep. The room was dark outside, and for a moment, I had no idea where I was. I blinked, trying to make sense of my surroundings, but it wasn’t until I saw my phone vibrating on the table that my mind started to clear. “Zelda, I’ve prepared a celebration banquet for you! Where are you? Why haven’t you come back yet? Did you become her disciple and don’t want to come back?”

SOMA Jade pauses, eyes darting between the princess and me. She nods, giving me one last worried look before leaving the bathroom. My attention shifts to the figure by the door, and I sink lower to keep my breasts hidden. The bath remains warm, but the air grows colder. Sienna Rybak, princess of Shadowspire pack. It’s hard to miss the striking resemblance between her and the three princes. But with her bouncy red hair, she looks more like Kade.

“She’s over–” Before I can finish answering, Beta Wilson spots Princess Sylvia huddled in the corner surrounded by my makeshift camouflage hideaway. She somehow looks even worse than she did before, gone ghostly and pale. Blood streaks the cave around her. Her chest rises and falls weakly, eyes half-open and glassy. Her hair is matted to her forehead with sweat. When she sees Beta Wilson, Princess Sylvia smiles weakly, one eye cracking open. “Hey,” she says quietly, voice more like a rattle. “Don’t be mad–”

> “Princess Thalindra of Nireen, Water Priestess of the Sacred Depths.” Thalindra entered in a flowing gown of icy blue and pearl-white. Barefoot, as always, she walked as if upon water. Her long black hair rippled behind her like waves, and her silver bangles clinked softly with each step. Her eyes—grey and calm—met the king’s for a beat before she lowered her head and offered her silent bow. > “Princess Zephyra of the Cloud Citadel, Wind Whisperer of the Skies.”

The woman’s voice was eerie, sounding at every corner of the room. “We have been working on your blood during the past few hours, and it’s just about time we find out- that you are really the one we’ve been looking for.” The white-haired witch said. Noelle watched with teary eyes, and tired bones as the witch walked towards Silas and crouched down to tilt his chin upward with one of her long fingers. “Hummm, Prince Silas of the Lycorealm kingdom.” The witch uttered, her white eyes gleaming, carrying the white lights that illuminated the cave.

A smirk formed its way on my lips and I stared at the bloody corpses then back at her “How many souvenirs did you get for me?” “Two, One alive and one well… almost alive” Jethro calmly spoke as he stared at the direction they had come from. “Good! Take them to the palace” I calmly replied as I sheathed my sword “Okay your highness but we would need a carriage to get you and our princess back home” Jackson quickly spoke, his eyes darting between me, the human and the already destroyed carriage. ‘They called her princess? Already?’ Zorrak whispered.

Instead, one of the Royal Healers hurried over. “What seems to be the trouble?” the healer asked. “She is bleeding,” Prince Gideon said. His voice was calm, almost cold. “She collapsed and appears to be in pain.” “Appears to be in pain?” the healer repeated. He turned to me. “Are you hurting?” I nodded, and pointed to my belly. “I would prefer if you answered me. Does it hurt too much to speak?” the healer asked. I shook my head. “She is mute,” Prince Gideon explained. “I am familiar with her signing speech. I can translate.”

Zed Alaric, Paladin Prince, holy hum and clean metallic scent clashing with the room's darker magics. The women: Xylia, Water Fae Princess, fiercely competitive; Thalassa Aegir, Mermaid Princess, serene and pearlescent; Dahila, Witch Noble, ancient power in velvet; Terrica, Earth Elven Princess, severe and judgmental; Zephina, Shadowborn Noble, cloaked in depths; Amira, Nephilim Princess, vibrating with celestial energy; Lyra Astraea, Celestial Mage, gazing at invisible sky charts; Morwen, Siren Princess, ethereal; Elara, Phoenix Princess, radiating subtle warmth; Petra, Valkyrie Noble, armored and formidable; Wren, Light Mage, gentle contrast; Rhysandra Nychus, Vampire Noble, compensating f

The quiet promise that comes from choosing to show up each day without armor, without illusion, without fear of being seen. She did not need fire to feel alive. She did not need silence to feel safe. She had built something that allowed ordinary days to exist without apology. And that, she realized, was the most radical outcome of all. The promise was not dramatic. It was durable. And it was enough.