Look at it this way, Zelda; the former- being the right answer there -just means you get to charm him all over again, and maybe observe the whole thing without the spectre of Ganon hanging over your shoulder to keep you from enjoying it.
Link did notice the slight downturn in her tone, and he resisted the urge to sigh, resisted the urge to acknowledge that he'd heard it and knew what had caused it, because godsdamnit, she was half a stranger, half the most important person he'd ever cared about in his life, and both of those things spooked up old defense mechanisms that he had firmly hidden himself behind when his sister died and his parents decided to shut their doors on him in response to their own grief.
Maybe if they had time to just stay home and interact without a bunch of duties piling on and forcing them to keep going and split their attention to things that they both knew were more important on larger scales, they'd be able to pick those locks and knock down that door he had firmly closed, but that wasn't happening, not any time soon, and he knew it, and she had to know it. Surely she did. He wasn't sure how she expected him to juggle all of it at once.
Oh, no, he knew how she expected it. She didn't know about maybe forty percent of the things he was trying to juggle- all of them lit torches -and if he'd just pry open his lips and say shit, she'd know. Words were hard, though, had never been his strong suit.
So instead of acknowledging the downturn in her voice, he chose to be amused by her emphasis on 'napery.'
"It'll clean," he said, glancing back at her with a smile that was probably more amused-looking than he actually was. "You can have the paper, I picked up something for myself."