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Z elda decided to consult Digger before any renovation. “Are there any natural mines or caverns around here? I'd rather do the least amount of work possible.”

Digger looked thoughtful. “Actually, there is an old quarry. It's partially collapsed, but it might work for your purposes. The key to digging holes is controlled collapse,” he said wisely. “A detour around a rock here, a bit of digging there, and you can make a nice cozy den.”

She smiled. “Do you think you can tell me how?”

“I will consult with the castle,” he said gravely.

They settled on a controlled collapse. Zelda caused a landslide and directed it to strategically cover the quarry.

Rocks settled in carefully directed patterns, leaving hidden air shafts that also let in light.

Following the blueprint that Digger, the castle, and Zelda had come up with, she caused a stream to redirect and run through the cavern.

Quartz and fool's gold crystals scattered the light beams from the air shafts, further lighting the space.

As a bonus, the crystals cast rainbow light, beautifying the cave.

She left the tunnels and cavern floor rough, figuring she should leave something for the goblins to do, and let the castle seed the cavern with mushrooms and glowing moss.

Unfortunately, the landslide triggered a minor earthquake that greatly upset the villagers. Oops!

Zelda didn't actually get to physically see her handiwork. The dust was still settling when she collapsed against the castle wall, deathly tired.

She wasn't bedridden, but she did sit around a lot for the next few days, recuperating.

Thanks to the new cook they had hired, Madame Yolanda, she was also in danger of getting fat. Middle-aged and chubby, the woman could cook! She was also a firm believer in feeding her lady into good health.

She brought her daughter Jelly along to serve as a maid. The poor girl was named after a condiment, but she was nice enough. Young and plump, she had a pleasant personality and was a hard worker.

Her uncle Tank hadn't said much about her collapse, since the task had been necessary, but he kept an eye on her as he went about training new soldiers.

Nagging came from an unexpected source. Ozzy Redbone had opinions on the subject.

“Pace yourself next time. Maybe make the cavern and then reroute the stream or grow mushrooms another time.

These things don't need to be done all in one day. You are a critical part of the defense, and we need you to be functional.”

He'd personally brought medicinal broth made by his grandmother to build her strength. It was clear he wanted her healthy. Probably for completely selfish reasons, but she appreciated the thought.

“I completely agree. I'm not doing that again,” Zelda said flatly. She still felt rather crabby and dull, but there were things to be done. “I got the report about the trade goods. It was a good first run.”

The traders returned with good news—they’d faced no resistance and gotten excellent deals on textiles and leather goods. Zelda had also contributed some ancestral outfits to the mix. The rich fabrics fetched a handsome price, but prying them from the castle's clutches had been a real struggle.

Apparently, the castle had a clothes fetish.

Each item had been meticulously cataloged, steeped in history, and brimming with memories of grand events and lives past. Zelda’s ancestors had donned these garments at balls, banquets, and battles, each piece a testament to the castle’s storied past—gowns with intricate embroidery, cloaks lined with the finest furs, and suits of armor that had seen epic battles.

But Zelda was impatient. Sentiment and the castle's reluctance to part with its treasures were not on her agenda. Feeding her army and preparing for the battles ahead were her priorities. The rich history embedded in the fabrics was far less important than the immediate need for resources.

As the tug of war intensified, the ancient stones of the castle seemed to groan in disapproval.

"This isn't about you," Zelda hissed, her grip tightening around a rich, embroidered cloak. She tugged at the clothes, the castle clutching them like an overprotective grandma. "These aren't relics," she huffed, "they’re just fancy laundry."

The castle creaked ominously, but Zelda tightened her grip on the cloak. "Look, you, these threads will feed and equip my soldiers. You had your glory days; let us have ours."

With a reluctant sigh, the castle loosened its hold, as if saying, "Fine, but I'm not happy about it."

As the garments were carried away one by one, a low rumble echoed through the halls—a grumble of resentment from the stone walls themselves. Zelda paused, glanced around, and snorted. "Clotheshorse," she muttered.

Ozzy raised a brow, realizing she’d said that aloud. She grimaced. “The castle didn’t like releasing its collection.”

He grinned. “I heard about that. Good thing the cavern isn’t alive, too.”

The cavern she’d formed was rich with copper and turquoise, along with a handy vein of coal.

The goblins had even sniffed out traces of gold and silver, and miners were working on unearthing it.

That would solve their money issues. Since it was her cavern and her gold, most of it would be sent to her.

Refocusing on the matter at hand, she said, “So we’re restocked on basic essentials, but we’ll need more. I don't think a second caravan will go through unscathed, especially once rumors spread about the new minerals.” They weren't that lucky.

He snorted in agreement. “The next caravan will be leaving in a couple of days.

We need to think of a way to reinforce it.

Your magic doesn't last beyond the castle grounds, but there are other magic users. I suggest we have a meeting of the elders. They can ask our people if they have any suggestions, and filter through ideas.”

Steward came in, looking very excited. “My lady, there are representatives from three different clans outside. They want to speak to you about an alliance.”

Redbone raised an eyebrow.

“It begins,” Zelda murmured to herself. This is what it meant to be Lady of the castle.

She looked at Redbone. “Since it looks like I'm going to be busy, would you mind arranging the meeting for tonight? We really don't have time to wait if we want to get that caravan on the way soon.”

“I can do that.” His tone conveyed that this was a favor between equals, not the errand of a lackey.

“I appreciate it. I will see you tonight,” she said politely, her tone acknowledging his point.

“Tonight,” he agreed, and left.

She blew out a breath and looked at Steward. “Let's do this.”