Link didn't dignify that at first, getting up and strapping the Sword back onto his back, before taking his plate and fork to the wash basin while he decided what a good response here would be.
"I don't think she wants to have anything near her that picks its own nose," he finally said in a dry tone.
Should I convey that? the Sword asked.
He glanced back at it. "You know, there's such a thing as too innocent."
While she didn't give him a mental picture of her face, the Sword still managed to convey that amused smile that she graced him with far more than she had her first master. In her defense, she hadn't learned and developed human emotions by the time they had parted ways.
Link grabbed a towel and dried his plate, thinking. He knew of someone who could and potentially would be able to help Zelda, at least with the subject of her hair, but suggesting her and then asking her to would close a door on him.
If I may, Master Link, the Sword said, perhaps the fact that Miss Zumi has crossed your mind without a more explicit prompting suggests that you were wanting a reason to say no?
"You mean one that had nothing to do with that damned social class of hers?" Link asked, then sighed, putting the plate and fork away in the Slate's inventory. "Tell her that I think I know of someone who can help, but it may take me a bit to track her down."
Understood, Master Link. The Sword directed her thought back to the queen. Master Link says that he has a better suggestion than a monster, though it may take some time to track her down. I suspect that he'd rather not have a creature that's known for picking its nose sitting at the dining table.