Second, proof of her purity

Zelda felt the smallest surge of relief as the cheers washed over her from her prayer. She'd done it! She'd made it through that horrifying ordeal without giving away how humiliated she felt!

The princess basked in a small feeling of accomplishment, willing to take her victories where she could. It felt like she had climbed a hill and risen over the top to see the valley below.

Unfortunately, if that hill was a hill of her embarrassment, then just beyond that metaphorical valley below was a great big jagged-topped mountain of mortification that she was about to climb.

Unspoken Rule Number Four of a Hylian Coronation, after all, was that a princess was pure and virginal. Always. Even if she wasn't.

A _queen _could have vice. She could drink, and make merry, and pop out as many kids (with the prerequisite bedroom activities that such things indicated) as she liked. A _princess _could not. A princess was, after all, a living symbol of hope and purity for her kingdom. This was a bit of a double standard to expect such different standards for the same woman based on which crown they wore, but this seemed to be the lot of princesses everywhere, not just in Hyrule.

Unfortunately, what Hyrule did have that other lands did not was a coronation day full of customs that had been built around a foundation of celebrating their princess's ability to stoically handle humiliation. Some of the histories of those customs were well documented, such as her ancestor's nude reveal of her Triforce in order to win back the throne from an usurper. Other customs, while still celebrated, were murkier in the exact time they originated from.

Whichever historical event was responsible for the coming part of the ceremony had been stricken from the official histories long ago, for example. Despite the lack of documentation, it didn't take a Triforce of Wisdom to guess that somehow, at sometime, one of her ancestors or many-times-great-aunts had probably dallied in romance a little early and become pregnant before their coronation, resulting in the scandal of an heir born too soon afterwards.

Virginity was important for a princess. Probably too important, in Zelda's opinion, but what would she know? She hadn't actually had sex yet. Zelda was indeed a virgin, and therefore met the definition of pure that traditions demanded for a princess, that was certainly true. Between running for her life, then hiding for her life while disguised as a boy, followed by being too busy rebuilding her kingdom, she'd had no time for being wooed by anything further away from her than her own fingers. But all that running and hiding, and training to be a Sheikah in order to make her running and hiding even better, had resulted in a very active lifestyle. And active lifestyles were not kind towards keeping a fully intact hymen.

That had left her as a virgin with none of the classical proof of virginity.

Zelda bit back a sigh as one of her guards cleared his throat, indicating that it was time for her to commence the next part of her ascension to the throne. While she'd been contemplating her lot, her men had removed the statues and replaced them with an ornate chair.

The chair may not be quite as old as the ancestor who started this whole ceremony, but it was certainly at least a century or two in age. Over its long lifespan it had probably been re-upholstered once or twice, as the velvet fabric lining the surface was not frayed or stained in any way. Ornate filigree designs incorporating the Triforce decorated the legs and armrests, as well as the legrests, clearly marking the chair as a work of art rather than a day-to-day piece of furniture. All in all, most people would probably kill to have a chair as comfortable looking as this one.

There was only really one obvious issue with the chair, as she'd already observed. No other chair she'd ever seen had come with legrests – two cushioned extensions that swept out on either side of the traditional piece of furniture. Once you noticed that glaring difference, you could also acknowledge that the back of the chair, which was on an angle, was closer to the front than on most furniture.

Was it only a minute or two ago that she'd been mortified at kowtowing in front of everyone? Zelda was already starting to look back on that event in fondness compared to what was required of her for this part of the ceremony.

Reaching within for her iron-core of discipline, tempered by her years under Ganondorf's rule, Zelda moved towards the chair before turning around to face the crowd.

“I come to you today as a maiden, uncontaminated by earthly trespasses. Let no doubt linger, for today I join my ancestors in the Procession of the Pure.”

With the prerequisite words spoken, Zelda placed her hands on the chair's armrests. The only small mercy she had was that her Sheikah training meant that she was strong enough to get into position herself, without having to be carried by her guards. Many of her less active ancestors had not been so lucky.

Zelda's biceps grew taut, straining as they took her weight, while she lifted her legs off the ground. For a few moments she hung there like a lewd gymnast, supported only by her hands, as her legs split and separated before settling on each of the legrests. The princess's ass settled on the not-very-wide seat as she leaned against onto the slightly-sloping support of the backrest. After a few seconds she was settled, leaning slightly back but still mostly upright, her legs splayed to either side of the chair and her pussy in full view, leaning out just beyond the edge of the seat.

This was truly the most awful day of her life, and considering she'd once fled for her life from a tyrant usurper, that was saying something.

Unfortunately, as demeaning as her position was, tradition demanded a little more of her. Somehow she didn't whimper in mortification as she drew her gloved hands down, her eyes catching the gaze of the entire crowd following the motion in seeming anticipation, as she reached down and delicately pulled her labia apart – one to each hand, to display all that was hidden within.

Zelda had lost her hymen ages ago, yes. Which would not have been a problem if she lived in any other place that had any other ceremony for ascending to the throne. In this place, though, where all the taboos of royal propriety had already been thrown out for the day, it was probably not surprising that visual proof of her 'purity' was required. Thank you very much, anonymous ancient floozy of an ancestor who'd ensured that this part of the day had been added to the ceremony.

The worst thing about this **** exposure was that the whole custom had been turned into a sham generations ago. Having no hymen, virgin or not, was not really an issue thanks to an enterprising witch who had figured out how to tweak a health potion to target that particular 'injury' centuries ago. Zelda had brewed and downed one last night with dinner, restoring her hymen to its full glory. That meant that this entire part of the ceremony was completely pointless for anything besides exposing her to everyone there.

The crowd below her let out an an appreciative 'oooo!' as Zelda's inner labia... no. No, she decided, that was too pretty a word for this stupidly high level of exhibition. No... this required something more true to the situation. Something more real to how totally her body was being seen by friends and strangers alike.

After a moment, she decided on the right word.

The crowd had let out an appreciative 'oooo!' as she opened her royal cunt, her splayed legs doing nothing to hide her spread treasure from their collective view. As if to add to the spectacle of her showing, the holy light of the Triforce of Wisdom easily shone through her thin glove, its golden glow adding its divine radiance to the perverse presentation of her glistening pink womanhood and the recently regrown hymen within.

Zelda's nostrils flared for a moment, the most she could allow herself to react, as she gave everyone a view of her lower area that only a midwife might expect to normally see. After allowing herself that moment of weakness, she stamped down on her reactions again as she prepared herself for the humiliation ahead.

Her guards, showing the efficiency of drilled training, quickly set up a series of bollards up the stairs to her chair, and then down again on the other side, effectively forming a line to follow. Once they were done, it was only a few moments before the first person in front of the bollards started to climb the stairs. The Procession of the Pure had begun.

Zelda fixed a polite smile on her face as the first person reached the top of the dais. Her mask almost fell right there when she saw it was her childhood nursemaid and her trainer in the ways of the Sheikah, Impa.

Impa nodded to her as she knelt before the sitting princess, the chair's height meaning that the older woman's eyes were level with the younger woman's spread pussy lips.

Unlike most of the crowd there, Impa was too-well versed in her princess's mannerisms to believe the smile she was putting on. “I would tell you to be strong,” the Sheikah said in a tone low enough that only Zelda could hear it, “but you already are. You'll look back at this day and laugh at its absurdity soon enough, my dear Zelda. Your mother certainly did.”

Zelda's regal smile relaxed a little bit, slipping into a more natural one as she felt a rush of affection for her teacher. “Thank you.”

Impa nodded, not saying any more words as she rose to her feet, performed the traditionally expected bow to her exposed princess, and then walked past her to the exiting bollards.

Zelda didn't have time to blink before the next person was kneeling before her, close enough to her open cunt for her to feel their breath blowing onto her skin.

“My lady,” he quickly greeted, looking more at her breasts than her eyes, before he used his remaining time to memorise every contour of her exposed folds.

She bit back a shudder of disgust as the man, a minor noble she'd worked with on the rebuilding effort and who she'd probably have reason to talk to for years to come, got an up-close view of her most sacred place.

Her eyes couldn't help but look up from the ogling man to the long, orderly line of people behind him. A sinking feeling settled in her stomach as she realised that even with a maximum of fifteen seconds per person, it was going to take a very long time for the hundreds of attendees to be done with 'inspecting her purity'...