Disclaimer: Tin Man is my sun, my moon, my starlit sky…I don't own those either but it doesn't keep me from appreciating them.

Author's Note: Things I am learning through internet dating: boys are stupid. No offense intended towards you boys that may have escaped this terrible affliction, but for those of you who may be teetering on the brink, I give to you this hint: when you've made plans with a girl and you happen to get off work early, don't go off and do the planned activity without her without at least giving her the heads up that plans have changed. It makes a girl quite understandably angry. It also makes her understand why her coworkers are watching her progress (or lack thereof) in this strange landscape one calls dating like it is their favorite reality show on. Sigh. Oh well, plus side for you – while I was giving the boys a time out I got some writing done.



Zo glided through the doors, graceful and queenly as ever as she swept purposefully away from the Council Room.

In her mind she slammed them closed, leaned her back against that infernal portal in a moment of weakness, in a moment of recovery. If only there was no one watching, no one there to see...

The Queen deigned to nod regally to chance met palace denizens, guards and maid servants going about their daily tasks. Not for lord or lady, nor for advisor, they all lay behind her, ensconced in that room, fuming.

...she wants to run, for fear, for fury, for the truth she knows deep in her soul...

Fait accompli he'd called it, when she had been considering the plan. The Queen knew there would be consequences but Zo knew there was also precedence. How else did the Original Slipper become the mother of the Royal Bloodline? How else to have a politically neutral alliance than to marry one with no political ties at all?

...she knows the danger of what she has done, feels the ripples of anger, sees the cascade of action and reaction in motion, calculates the balance...

The suns' warmth captures her as Zo pauses at the window, for all appearances gazing out across the Realm it is her duty to protect.

...but they might have tried to stop her, might have found a way...

That mirrored light, the daytime counterparts to the twin moons, the only witnesses of a clandestine ceremony, as an old romantic bound the hands of too giddy, star struck teenagers. The traditional braided cords hastily, secretly made, their components more commonplace than a queen's should be, but more sincerely meant; the Diocesan of Light near to retirement, untouchable by those that would disapprove. Even in her one act of selfishness, Her Majesty tries to protect those beneath her rule...

...and the Queen feels the ground shift beneath her feet...

...while the girl is swept off her feet into the draperies and the waiting arms of the boy she loves. And joyous laughter dances down the hall to ring clear through the doors beyond...