Happy New Year, everyone! New year, new story! Let's get going!
There it is. The Emerald City.
Glinda could barely contain her excitement as the train slowed into the station. She bounced in her seat, her hands pressed together in her lap. She couldn't believe it. There was only one other student in the history of Shiz University who was offered a job at the Emerald Palace upon graduating, and that was five years ago. But he had only stayed for a month, and whether he quit or was fired was unknown.
Either way, she was determined to do her best. She didn't know what type of job she would have, and though the mystery intrigued her, she would have preferred to know what she was getting herself into. Having done her research on the many positions available in the palace, she expressed an interest in a few, but knew not to get her hopes up. She would be placed in whatever capacity they needed her in. As long as she wasn't doing manual labor that resulted in potential sweating or cleaning up after some animal, she knew she would get through it.
The train came to a stop, the conductor announcing the final destination. She grabbed her two suitcases from the overhead compartment and merged into the aisle of disembarking passengers.
Safely out of the station, she pulled a folded piece of paper from her jacket pocket and squinted at the scribbled address. The palace had called one week ago to give her the address of the women's boarding house walking distance away. The deep, male voice on the other end had simply rattled it off and hung up before she had a chance to confirm. She jotted down what she thought she heard and hoped it wasn't too far off, not wanting to get lost.
She followed the flow of foot traffic out of the station to the bustling streets. The sounds of coaches, cabs, and pedestrians jumbled together and filled the air. All the noise overwhelmed the young blonde. She had never been in such a bustling, big place before, having grown up in a quiet community in Pertha Hills. Even Shiz was a big jump for her, and this was a huge jump from Shiz.
After turning down many wrong streets and asking for directions four times, she finally madding it to the boarding house, a tall, imposing building with a large sign 'Westerfall's Boarding House'. She pushed the door open, making her way to the front desk.
"Hello. I'm Glinda Upland," she said to the middle-aged woman behind the counter. "I believe the Palace called about me."
The woman looked up, pursed her lips, and wordlessly reached into her bottom drawer, handing her a rusting key. "Room 216. Go upstairs, make a left, and go all the way down. You're lucky the communal washroom is right across from your room. The laundry room's in the basement. Rent's due on the first of the month, no exceptions. Don't lose your key, replacements are not cheap." And with that, she lost interest in the young woman before her and went back to her book.
Glinda's expression was blank as she tried to process all the information rattled off at her. She snapped out of her trance when the woman loudly cleared her throat. "Oh. Thank you, ma'am," she said hurriedly, grabbing her suitcase and hurrying up the stairs.
She found her room without a problem, but her victory was short-lived when the key didn't fit in the keyhole and she had to go back down to the desk. The woman grumbled under her breath as she searched through her other keys. She gave Glinda five more with strict directions to bring them back when she found the right one. She went back up and got the right key on her fifth try. After returning the excess keys, she pushed her door open and looked around.
This room was almost the same size as a single dorm at Shiz, if not smaller. The white paint of the walls was flaking and peeling. Faded emerald drapes covered the window, and when she pulled them back, saw that her room overlooked a dirty, back alleyway. Not the view she envisioned. Next to the window was her simple bed (already made), dresser, desk, a small wardrobe, and a vanity with a small mirror. She had two oil lamps, one on her desk, and the other on the wall by the door.
Overall, it was very bland. She had a lot of work to do to give it some life, and, in the words of her old Shiz friends, Galindafy it. But hopefully, it wouldn't be permanent. It was all she could afford at the moment, and she told herself that once she saved enough money, she would move into a better apartment.
She quickly unpacked her clothes and got settled. She unmade the bed and replaced it with her own sheets and pillows. She had no idea how long those old sheets had been there, and they looked much too scratchy, anyway.
"Are you Glinda Upland?"
She jumped at the voice and whipped around, seeing a young woman with dark caramel skin and short, curly, black hair. She had forgotten to close her door. "Yes."
"You have a phone call. Is your intercom not working?"
"My what?"
The girl pointed to a small, black box with a small button on the wall. "Syrai, who works at the switchboard downstairs, will ring you when you have a call. There's one phone per hallway. It may seem a lot to have five girls share one phone, but it's much better than a whole floor sharing one washroom." She pressed the button and spoke into the box. "Syrai?" Silence answered her. "You should go to Madame Greyling at the front desk and tell her your intercom isn't working."
"The scary lady who somehow got a job as a welcomer?"
She laughed. "Yeah. She's a tough cookie, and she runs a tight ship, but she's harmless. I'm Rakelle Ashti'mai, by the way. But you should really go take your call now. The girls don't take very kindly to one person taking up the phone time."
"Oh, right. Thanks, Rakelle." Glinda hurried out and down the hall to the phone. "Hello?"
"Miss Glinda Upland?"
"This is she."
"My name is Nadeb Qiham. I'm the Chief of Staff at the Palace. I'm calling to inform you that you will start tomorrow morning at nine sharp. Come dressed in professional attire and you'll receive your assignment."
"Of course. Thank you so much, Mr. Qiham."
"Wonderful. See you tomorrow, Miss Upland."
A click and the line went dead. She hung up and hurried back to her room, quickly taking out her formal light blue blazer and matching skirt. She hung it up on the back of her door so it would be ready and wrinkle-free. She made a few rearrangements to the room, pushing the bed to the opposite side and pushing the desk into the corner. That was all she could do after her exhausting day of traveling and settling into her new apartment. Not hungry, she decided to forgo dinner, opting instead to snuggle into bed with a magazine. She looked at the high fashions featured on the colorful pages, falling asleep with visions of the city's styles dancing in her head.
Even when she was at Shiz, she didn't have to deal with the communal washrooms, always being assigned a private suite with her own all to herself. She learned the hard way that if she wanted access to the hot water, she had to rise before the sun. The cold water was successful in waking her up, but she was shivering for the next half-hour. She left her window open, hoping the mid-July heat would help, which it did.
As she tucked her blouse into her skirt and slipped on her jacket, she wondered what type of job she would be assigned. She had tried her best not to stress over it because she was going to have to accept what they gave her and not get upset. She had hope, though. They wouldn't have asked her to wear professional attire if she was going to work in the stables.
Perhaps she would be working with the Queen. Not much was known about her. She had only been reigning for a little over a year, ever since her father, the Wonderful Wizard of Oz, died. She never gave any public appearances, was never photographed, and because of that, everything the public knew about her was purely rumors and speculation, due to her very sheltered (secluded, rather) upbringing. She had heard all the rumors, from her not being the Wizard's biological child, to her being deformed. She was so shrouded in mystery, no one knew her name until she ascended. It had only been printed in a newspaper once; Elphaba Diggs. Now, she was simply 'Her Supreme Ozness, The Queen'. Her speeches were never heard on the radio, only read in the newspapers. Some wondered if she was even a real person.
She glanced at her clock and, realizing she was going to be late, pulled her hair back into a low ponytail and applied a light coat of rouge and dark pink lipstick. Sliding her feet into her one-inch pumps, she grabbed her purse and hurried out the door, locking it behind her and practically flying down the stairs.
She couldn't admire the architecture of the city buildings the way she wanted to as she hurried down the streets, weaving in and out of the crowds. She couldn't be late for her first day. The heel of her shoe caught in a crack and she stumbled, but she righted herself and continued on her way. She only slowed when her destination, the Emerald Palace, came into view.
To all in Oz, it was known for its splendor and grandeur. Its emerald exterior matched the city in which it resided. The tall columns seemingly overlooked the entire city, if not all of Oz. It was one of the oldest buildings in the country, some saying it dated back to the reign of Ozma the Gentle. Others said her ghost still haunts the palace. Despite its old age, it was always kept in perfect condition. Everything was always cleaned, polished, and perfected, especially the exterior. The main function of the view of the palace was to give off the impression that Oz was a unified, powerful country that could not be broken under any circumstances.
She was stopped at the front gates of the palace with five minutes to spare.
"Name?" the gruff voice of the guard questioned.
"Glinda Upland," she answered, trying not to let her voice betray her fear, and trying not to let the brightness of his emerald uniform blind her.
The guard checked his list and nodded to the other guard, who opened up the gates. Glinda nodded her thanks and hurried inside. She reached the large front doors and made to knock, but the door opened, revealing an aging man, who looked like he was trying to hide the fact that he was aging, with jet black hair and a pristine, dark green suit.
"You must be Miss Upland."
"Yes, sir."
"Welcome. I'm Nadeb Qiham. Follow me, please."
Glinda knew she wasn't blessed with height, but as soon as she stepped inside, she was painfully aware of how small she was. The Emerald Palace looked huge on the outside, and it was even more huge on the inside. She became conscious of how loud her heels sounded against the freshly polished linoleum floors. Perhaps flats would be a better shoe choice.
"The first floor is the staff offices. The second is for royal functions, appointments, and audiences. The third is the royal living quarters and private rooms. As palace staff, we are allowed up to the second floor, but never the third. Unless you have expressed permission, but we have no reason to receive such an invitation." He quickened his pace, and Glinda tried not to stumble after him. "You will work in the office of the private secretary as a typist. Pay is fifteen an hour, nine to five, five days a week. You'll get half an hour for lunch, and a weekly paycheck. And here's your palace ID. It saves time at the front gates. Show the guards and they should let you in without a problem. And you must keep it on while you're working, or else you'll be mistaken for an intruder." He handed her a green card on a lanyard, her name in neat, golden lettering, and she slipped it around her neck.
They continued to walk down the long halls, turning a few corners before entering a bustling large office space.
"I have your new typist, Chyde. This is Miss Glinda Upland."
A young man sitting on one of the desks looked up with a smirk. "Ooh. Fresh meat."
"Be nice. She's a Shiz University graduate. She comes highly recommended and I intended to have her stay for longer than one month."
"Very well." He threw up his arms and slid off the desk. "But you know I'm as harmless as a fly."
"Flies can carry diseases." Mr. Qiham left without another word.
"How fast are you, Miss Upland?" Chyde asked, going back to his desk.
"I can do sixty-five words a minute."
"The last girl we had could do seventy."
Glinda bit back a frown. Was that an insult? She was one of the fastest typists at Shiz.
"Your job will be to type up all handwritten speeches, notes, memos, and the like. If it's for the Queen, then her private secretary will come and collect it for her. We provide you with your own typewriter. You may also use it for personal use on your own time, but the paper and ink must be your own expense. If it's work-related, we'll provide you with the paper and ink, but… you understand."
"I do, sir."
"Chyde, please. We're a fun team down here, especially when all the proper people leave. We have to be, working in a place like this. Anyway, this is your cubicle."
She didn't know if he meant 'fun' or 'fun', but either way, she was there to work, get paid, and make it in the city on her own, while proving to her parents that she didn't need to get married to a rich man to be comfortable.
Chyde pointed to a small cubicle by the window, furnished with a simple desk, chair, and typewriter. "You have extra paper and ink in the bottom drawer. Every morning, you'll get a box of handwritten documents to be typed. And if you could clip the handwritten documents to their typed counterparts, just to keep everything organized, that would be wonderful. Speaking of the box…"
A short gentleman carried a seemingly heavy box into the small cubicle and dropped it with an unceremonious bang.
"Thanks, Eix."
The man grumbled and walked away, rubbing his lower back.
"Don't mind him. He's a sweetie. Well, happy typing, Miss Upland. If you have any questions, my office is 'cross the way."
Glinda sat down and got right to work. She typed carefully, trying not to make any spelling mistakes. She was sure whoever would be getting these wouldn't want any whited-out mistakes. Most were handwritten messages that needed to go to the royal archives. Some were receipts for bookkeeping. There were also some minutes from meetings and correspondence between government officials. Nothing was a government secret, though she doubted anyone would be naïve enough to give a new employee responsibility for top-secret documents.
She was only a quarter of the way through the box by lunch. She was hungry, and her fingers were tired. She knew she had to give them a rest, lest they stop working.
"Break time!" came a sing-songed call throughout the office.
Glinda leaned back in her chair as everyone rushed out. Her eyes fluttered closed against the headache she felt coming on, the headache she knew would only get worse unless she ate. She opened her eyes and looked at all the notes she still had to type. She still had a lot to do, and the sooner she started, the sooner she would finish.
"Where is everyone?"
Glinda looked up at the frantic voice. A young man looked around wildly at the practically empty room until his eyes rested on Glinda.
"Do you have it ready?"
"Have what?"
"The Queen's typed notes! The private secretary didn't have it in his briefcase and sent me down to get them."
Glinda went through the files she had typed up. "Um… is this it?"
"I don't know, is it?!"
"I… believe so. Is it about –"
"No time for questions, just give it to me." He snatched the paper and hurried away, tripping over his own feet as he stumbled out of the office without so much as a 'thank you'.
"You're welcome," she muttered under her breath as she went back to typing.
A few minutes later, everyone came back from lunch, as did the frantic young man, though he looked less frantic and more… Glinda couldn't quite place his expression, perhaps a mixture of annoyed and… murderous?
His eyes locked with Glinda's and he marched over to her. "You gave me the wrong paper. Luckily, Her Ozness dismissed the private secretary before getting to her notes. Next time, you should organize your work more carefully." He marched away before Glinda could give her rebuttal.
"Dismissed? Probably more like kicked out," one of the secretaries snickered.
"There's never a formal end to those meetings. Once the yelling starts, that's it," another snorted, and the whole office began to add to the gossip.
"The poor man. It was never like that with the Wizard. Their meetings were always so cordial. But the queen –"
"I'd advise you to choose your next words very carefully," Chyde called from his desk.
"I'm simply stating the facts, and the simple fact is that the longest those meetings have lasted is four minutes. The PS always leaves the room looking like he regrets every life decision that brought him to that moment."
"The queen's probably just stressed."
The secretary chuckled. "Okay, 'stressed'. It's also stressful for us, knowing we could be fired at the drop of a hat just for making eye contact with her."
"Making eye contact with the queen? There are less painful ways to die, you know."
"It's getting better, though. It's been a while since she's thrown someone against a wall."
The room filled with chuckles, mixed with the sound of typewriters and distant conversation. Glinda tried to focus on her work, but she couldn't stop thinking about the rumors. Was the queen really that bad? "Has anyone here seen the queen?" she asked before she could stop herself.
The typing stopped. She could feel everyone's eyes on her. She looked up. "What?"
"Well… she never comes down there and we never go up there. Not that we would want to. No one ever sees her, except the ministers, her private secretary, and anyone else she calls. But if you go to her without being called, you must be wishing for a fate worse than death."
And that was the end of the discussion about the queen.
By the time five o'clock rolled around, Glinda could barely feel her fingers. She had been mindlessly typing for the entire afternoon, her head was pounding, and she only realized she hadn't had a drink when she noticed how dry her mouth felt.
"Alright, everyone! We made it through another day. Go home. I'll see you all tomorrow," Chyde chirped.
Dehydrated and starting to feel sick, Glinda weakly pushed herself up from her desk. At least she got most of her work done; only a quarter of the papers remained in the box. Her head was spinning, she just hoped she could make it back home without fainting.
As soon as she stepped out of the palace, the fresh air made her feel a bit better. Others began to file out of the palace, and for a moment, she was reminded of when classes let out at Shiz, and she and her friends would convene on the quad before going to eat. But this wasn't the Shiz bubble. She was an adult in the real world now. As she neared the gate, she thought she saw a familiar face, a face she hadn't seen in years. But… no, it couldn't be. But what if it was? "… Fiyero?"
The guard looked up, his face dropping in surprise. "Galinda?"
"Oz… I haven't seen you in… it's been…"
He closed the gap between them and gave her a light hug. "I know. How are you, Galinda? What are you doing here?"
"I'm fine. And it's 'Glinda' now. I changed it at the end of junior year, after Dr. Dillamond left, or was fired, rather."
"He was?"
"Yeah. It wasn't his fault, though. The Animal Banns."
Fiyero nodded understandably. "You work here, too?"
"Yeah. I'm a secretary in the private secretary's office, typing up memos and such. And you're a Gale Force officer?"
"Yeah. I got this job after…"
"After you had to drop out of Shiz."
Fiyero smiled sadly. "Yeah."
Glinda looked into her ex-boyfriend's eyes. The brightness that had gotten her through long lectures was no longer there, replaced with eyes that looked like they had seen some things they wished they could unsee.
She remembered being there for Fiyero when he heard the news that the coup against his parents had succeeded, rendering him a penniless orphan. The economy had been failing for years, and no matter what his parents tried to do, from setting up assistance programs to reworking taxes, nothing worked. The only thing that would save Fiyero from the same fate as his parents was if he signed an instrument of abdication, renouncing his royal status and declaring the Vinkus a democracy. After a lot of conflicting feelings, discussions, and arguments, he decided to sign away his birthright. The contract also left him penniless, which meant that he had to pull out of school. It broke both their hearts, especially as she watched Fiyero walk off-campus for the last time.
Neither of them kept up with the Vinkun politics, Fiyero because it hurt too much, and Glinda because she was never really into it in the beginning. After he left, they had fallen out of touch, and, figuring that the other had moved on, did the same.
"I'm a Corporal now. After next year, I'll be a Sergeant."
"You've worked so hard," Glinda smiled sadly.
"Are you alright? You look a bit pale," Fiyero said, concern filling his eyes.
"I'm not feeling very well. I had so much work to do, I worked through lunch."
"May I walk you home?"
Glinda blushed. "I'd love that. We can catch up a bit."
Fiyero offered her his arm, which she eagerly took, and they walked away, chatting about what they've been up to.
"I've never seen the Wizard or the Queen. I've heard rumors, though," he admitted, keeping his voice low.
"I've heard them, too."
"As far as I know, it's just baseless gossip. But I've heard the yelling."
"Yelling?"
"You'll hear it eventually. Her voice carries. I've only heard her yell; it seems to be her default volume."
Before they knew it, they were back at the Westerfall's Boarding House. Glinda quickly said goodbye, wanting to lie down. As soon as she locked her door behind her, she collapsed onto her bed, not even bothering to take off her clothes. She just wanted to sleep and forget about her first day, while praying the consecutive ones will be better.
This story is twenty-five chapters long, and updates will be every other day.