He froze.

She stood there, framed by the golden light, her outfit entirely different from what he'd expected. It was a Gerudo set—a striking ensemble of flowing fabric and daring cuts. The deep crimson sash hugged her hips, while the intricate gold embroidery along the edges caught the sunlight like dancing flames. Her back, almost completely bare, was smooth and unguarded save for a delicate string holding the top in place. The veil—thin, barely there—softly framed her face, letting her eyes meet his with an intensity that made his breath hitch.

"So, what do you think?" she asked casually, twirling slightly to show off the outfit. The tone was light, teasing even, but her gaze stayed locked on him, searching for a reaction.

Link's heart thundered in his chest like a Goron rolling downhill. He opened his mouth to respond, but no sound came out. The words were stuck somewhere between his brain and tongue, swallowed up by the way the fabric swayed with her every movement.

His ears betrayed him first, burning bright red. He could feel the heat rising, spreading across his cheeks, down his neck, until his entire face felt like it was on fire. He tried to focus on anything else—the sound of the wind, the shifting sands in the distance—but his traitorous eyes kept snapping back to her. To the confident way she stood.

He shifted on his feet, his gloved fingers clenching and unclenching at his sides. His tunic suddenly felt far too tight, his leather belt far too constricting. When she tilted her head, a slight smirk curling her lips, he panicked.

His hands flew to the hem of his tunic, tugging it downward to shield himself from... well, her. His fingers gripped the fabric tightly, as if it might somehow help him regain control of the situation—or himself.

“I, uh…” he managed finally, his voice rougher than he intended. He cleared his throat, his gaze darting everywhere except directly at her. “It’s... good. You look good.”

Great work, Link, he thought bitterly. Really smooth.