Chapter Four

DG knew it was only a matter of time before her luck ran out. With a little bit of help from her magic, she'd managed to keep the officers around her confused as to who she was and what gender as well. But she wasn't accustomed to using it, and to tell the truth, she didn't practice much. So, sooner or later she'd mess up and they'd realized they had a woman in their ranks. A royal woman, to boot.

She'd managed to completely avoid Cain; by what miracle she wasn't sure. Maybe because when they'd made camp, he'd chosen the first watch himself and had stayed away from the men for the most part. He talked and laughed with them at breakfast, but it wasn't long and he certainly didn't seem bothered by her. She thought that was strange, but maybe her magic was working too well.

But she didn't want him to know who she was until it was too late to turn around. And even though she knew he'd insist on taking her home, which would give her plenty of time. To do what, she still hadn't quite worked out. But she'd come up with something, some way to let him know how she felt without seeming like some kind of spoiled, infatuated kid. He was going to see her as a woman, not just a princess, if she had to knock him over the head with his own gun to do it.

DG finished packing her gear and stood up, nearly moaning from the aches and creaks a full day in the saddle gave her. Then a night on the hard ground had made her hips and butt number than the horse. Her back was screaming in protest and her arms sang in agony every time she moved.

But at least she wasn't at some stupid etiquette, dancing, and 'this is what royal people do' lessons. She took a deep breath of the morning air and wondered why she'd ever taken her simple life so much for granted. She'd wanted more on the other side. Now that she had it, all she wanted was to be back just being her.

Grass is always greener.

DG sighed and picked up her pack. She needed at least another gallon of coffee not to mention something a bit more filling then hardtack and dried fruit. She really should have packed a bag before she left. But she didn't think she'd be able to blend in so well in her regular clothes. She snorted a bit to herself, remembering the way she'd snuck into the supply tent and demanded to 'inspect the uniforms'. That poor clerk didn't have a choice, since she was the princess.

Princess. It seemed the more she heard that word, the more she used it to her advantage, she hated it. Hated it with every freaking fiber of her being. It had only been a handful of weeks, everybody said she'd get used to it, the rules, the expectations. No freaking chance.

She often daydreamed what everyone would do if she just said no. DG knew her mother was looking to her to take over. The people wouldn't trust Az this early in the game, there were still too many of the witch's supporters around for Az to be safe anyway. But DG didn't want it. And she didn't see that situation changing anytime soon.

GOD. This was so much more than chasing after Cain, she realized suddenly. She looked around the camp at the men preparing to leave, her eyes seeking and finding the object of many a sweaty dream. There he stood, drinking the final sips of coffee in his cup, surveying the camp. She could imagine the sharpness of those crystal blue eyes, the heat that only she seemed to see in them. She'd overheard her guards talk about how cold he was, how his eyes seemed almost lifeless. She figured they weren't looking the way she was. But she'd always paid a lot of attention where Cain was concerned.

She hoped he'd understand when she finally revealed herself. Hoped beyond hope that propriety and duty wouldn't cloud his judgment and he'd just remember she was DG, and she needed him. She wasn't completely sure he felt about her the way she did about him, but she'd seen signs. The way his hand lingered a bit longer than was proper when he helped her out of a carriage. The soft smile that stole across his lips when he thought she wasn't looking. The downright intense way he watched her, all the time.

You thought you felt out of place in Kansas. DG snorted and hefted her pack. Cain started to stir from the tree and she heard the comforting tone of his voice drift out over the crowd. It was time to move, to get a little further away from Central City and the life they were trying to force her into there.

DG took a deep breath, closed her eyes for a brief second and just soaked in the sounds and movements of the men around her, savoring this sweet, sweet freedom. When she opened them, she made her way to the horse, more than ready to get going.

As the men separated and prepared to mount up, Cain caught sight of the small man moving easily through the others. Something about the way he moved was familiar and Wyatt narrowed his eyes for a moment, watching. The feeling he knew the young cadet niggled at him, settling into an itch between his shoulder blades. Shaking it off, he strode this own horse to check the saddle and bridle.

He swung up into his saddle, the itch between his shoulder blades insisting that something was about to go horribly wrong.

The Queen hesitated outside of DG's doorway, her hand raised to knock. Her daughter had been hiding in her room for the last day and a half. Not only was the queen worried, DG needed to learn that it was time to stop sulking over the departure of the Tin Man.

"DG!" She knocked lightly on the door and waited. Then she knocked again, a little louder this time, calling her name louder as well. "This is silly, open the door."

"Is everything all right, your highness?" Glitch appeared as if out of nowhere, a stealth he had leftover from being Ambrose. The queen started at his sudden appearance and laughed nervously.

"Yes, Glitch. I'm just trying to urge DG to come out." She turned her attention back to the door and knocked again. "DG, I'm not going to stand out here forever. Open this door, or I'm coming in." Another beat of silence passed and the Queen's patience snapped. She would not tolerate her daughter acting like a spoiled child. She tested the doorknob and found it turned easily. Something about that made worry bloom in her stomach. "DG?"

The door swung open to a room bathed in gauzy white and beige. The bed was unmade; the sheets tossed aside like rags to trail on the floor. Dresses, shoes and stockings were strewn about, their fineness disregarded by the young princess. The doors of the armoire were thrown wide open and the clothes in there hung desperately to their hangers. Anger made the queen's brow furrow and she glanced towards the bathroom. The door was ajar and she immediately headed over to it. Glitch hovered in the door, taking in the wreck of the room with nervous eyes.

"DG, come out here. I've had enough of this." Concerns for her daughter's privacy were gone as she pushed the door open…to find that room as empty as the first. Except for one, glaring difference.

Looking like a pile of dirt littering the floor in front of the sink was…hair. Tufts of it were scattered across the sink, the vanity. Long strands of it looked like it had caught in the mirror. Confused, the queen moved into the room and picked up some of the ebony tresses and rubbed them between her fingers.

"Why would she cut her hair?" All at once, a powerful, painful answer to that question bloomed in her mind. "Azkadelia."

Without a word to Glitch, she strode out of the room, leaving the former advisor to catch up or be left behind.

"Hello, mother. Won't you come in?" Azkadelia didn't look up from the intricate embroidery she was working on. Of all the things she'd learned as a girl, this was the only thing that seemed to focus her. It was the one pleasure the witch ever allowed her during her possession.

"Where is she?" The accusation was razor sharp despite the softness of the voice delivering it. Az answered with a mirthless laugh, pausing in her work to flex her fingers. "Azkadelia, tell me."

"Lost your little angel mother? Perhaps you should have considered that before you sent her Tin Man away." She continued her work after giving her neck a stretch.

"Azkadelia, do not sass me. Where is your sister?"

"I thought I just told you. She's with Wyatt Cain." Az replied, annoyed. She finally glanced over at the Queen and couldn't help the smirk at the sheer outrage in her mothers face. The lavender eyes that so many people regaled were almost black with worried anger. The youngest bird had broken out of her cage, and the mother bird didn't like it. "You really didn't think she'd go after him, did you?"

"Why would she? Her duty is here."

"Oh, mother. You can tell yourself that if it makes you feel better." Az put her sampler down and stood. She still had a tendency to hold the rigid posture of the witch and now was no exception. She used it to face down her mother, to let the Queen know that she wasn't weak or inferior. It was the one defense she had left against the woman she'd never felt good enough for.

"She's out there, in danger and you act as if you could care less."

"She's out there, surrounded by a brigade of Tin Men. I'd say she's much safer than either of us." Az whipped back, her dark eyes a firestorm of emotion that staggered the Queen.

"Why do you hate me so?" The question was so unexpected, Az found herself speechless for a moment. Then, as if a dam had burst, all the anger, fear and resentment welled up inside her, desperate to get out.

"Why? Why? You left me." Her words were short and clipped, her eyes ice hot as they glared at the woman that had given her life. "You knew that the witch was inside of me, controlling me. You knew." Hot tears slid down her face, unbidden. Her hands fisted in her skirts, snapping them up as she took a step forward. The queen's eyes widened with denial, her head shaking slightly with it.

"There was nothing I could do."

"You didn't even try." Az cut her off, not even ready to hear the excuses. "You let her fester inside of me, taking my magic and perverting it for her own gain and you just stood there and watched. The first time you did anything was after I k-" She stumbled, the act to horrible for her to think about. Az straightened her shoulders and raised her chin and went on. "After I killed DG. Then you could do something. But nothing for me. All for her. You brought her back to life, cleared her memories and sent her out of the OZ. What about me, mother? Wasn't I your daughter too?"

The queen seemed to shrink with each word, her regal stance wilting under the heat of her daughter's anger. They both seemed to forget about Glitch, who was watching the proceedings with a wide-eyed fascination. His eyes darted back and forth between the two women, his brain processing the argument as fast as it could. He felt that things were being said that might change his view on things, if he could just sort them out.

"Azkadelia, you must believe that I would have done anything to help you."

"I must? Well, I don't." Az replied, her words like a slap to the Queen. "There is nothing, nothing, that you could say to make me believe that. DG was your angel, and I was just your other daughter."

Emotion burned Az's throat shut and she had to take several deep breaths to steady herself. She took that time to watch her mother, to take in the way she'd gone pale and the guilt clouding her beautiful eyes. It scared her to realize she felt nothing other than a grim satisfaction that she'd upset the Queen.

"If you wish to see DG again, it would serve you well to understand that she isn't your little angel anymore. She's the woman you made her, by sending her away. Just like I'm the woman you made me." With that one, final shot, Azkadelia turned her back on her mother. It took several long seconds before she finally heard the Queen leave, the door closing quietly behind her. Only then did Az let her knees buckle and a sob wrench from her throat as she sank to the low couch by the window. Several more seconds passed before she realized that there was a hand on her back, rubbing her shoulder in soothing circles.

She swallowed her tears as best she could and turned to see Glitch, his eyes averted but his hand extended out towards her.

"What are you doing?" She asked, her voice husky from crying. "Why didn't you go with mother?"

"You were crying." He answered, just as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Az stared at him for a long moment, her swollen eyes narrowed with confusion. Then, for the first time in she didn't know how long, she turned to him and let herself be comforted.