Wearing a chipper smile, Galinda sat with her hands in her lap, watching the practice game in the stands, next to her father and Fiyero. Inside, however, she bubbled with anger at the memory of her lady's maid in the arms of the Prince—a whispering, cuddling, coddling Prince. A heat had flown into her chest at the sight, a bitter taste rising on her tongue. Fiyero said he had caught Elphaba, that she almost collapsed. But, his touch communicated more than mere concern. It was laced with affection. He had massaged Elphaba's bare nape with her face nestled against his chest. Her lady's maid looked comfortable with him, quite comfortable, as if they had met before. Galinda wanted to pull Elphaba away, lock her in her room, and forbid her from seeing the Prince ever again. It wasn't reasonable.
She wasn't in love with Fiyero. He was amusing, an adept dancer, and a skilled kisser. Galinda had enjoyed the many soft kisses he planted in the palm of her hand, the ones that crept up her arm and landed on her cheek, as they sat in a dark hallway, at the end of last night's ball. She even enjoyed the way he cavalierly mocked traditions, traditions that had become confining to Galinda of late. But, she did not love him. Love, she assumed, was much more solid; it was the difference between honey and water. Fiyero, while refreshing, was far from addictive. So why this burning, this heat in her chest and pain behind her eyes? If she wasn't jealous of Fiyero, did that mean she was jealous of Elphaba? But that was absurd! She didn't even have a pinch of fondness for her. She despised her, didn't she?
Galinda stared at Elphaba's determined form as her lady's maid sank her arrows into each of her hay targets on the field. She shivered. Recently Elphaba had been different. Her lady's maid, who clearly disliked her as much as Galinda hated her, had pretended not to see the bruises on her neck. No. More than that. Elphaba had spared her from disgrace. There was no other explanation for how she handled Milla before the ball. Was Elphaba's behavior a ploy to ingratiate her toward her, to get Galinda to warm to her? Well, she wouldn't be so easily manipulated! She was the Princess of Gillikin! She could hate whomever she wanted for as long as she wanted for Oz's sake!
The King clapped three times and the field was changed out. The archers and her lady's maid left. Swordsmen entered, followed by their squires carrying sacks of two-handed swords, knives, and shields. As the swordsmen ducked, dodged, and parried, the Princess imagined Elphaba tangled under the white sheets of Fiyero's guest bed. Galinda's smile was breaking apart; soon her emotions would be written all over her face. She had to get away. Leaning over, she asked to be excused. Her father agreed but told her to be ready to greet Sir Chuffrey and his guests for an early supper. She nodded. Raising her dress, she walked off of the wooden platform, back to the castle. When she received Sir Chuffrey's letter a couple months back saying he would visit her, she had been nervous, giddy, elated. But now she could rally none of those emotions to drown out her vexation. What she needed was a nice hot bath— a nice hot bath— with her lady's maid.
Walking back to the castle and entering her bedroom Galinda summoned Elphaba. When her maid arrived, she ordered,
"Prepare the bath."
Elphaba went stiff, not moving for a long moment, before she croaked, "Yes, Your Royal Highness."
Galinda smiled, making Elphaba wait in front of her for a couple of minutes, before she said, "You're dismissed."
When the princess entered the tiled room, her gangly maid stood tucked in the corner by the oils and perfumes, her hands in front of her apron, her eyes tracing her feet.
"Am I to get in like this?" Galinda asked, still in her dress and heels.
Elphaba looked up, swallowing.
"No, Your Royal Highness."
"Then, hurry and undress me," Galinda said and her lady's maid made her way over, cringing at the large body of water in the middle of the room. Watching Elphaba undress her, she wanted to slap her, shake her, belt her, yes, belt the truth out of her! Did the Prince care for Elphaba? Did the creature have feelings for him? Had they kissed? But any one of those questions would make her look weak, feeble, like she was envious. She would just have to get the answers out of Elphaba a subtler way.
Elphaba was removing Galinda's petticoat when the Princess asked,
"Whatever was the matter with you that you fainted into the arms of the Prince?"
Elphaba paused for an instant before she continued, and said,
"I must have been a little tired, Your Royal Highness."
"A little tired?" Galinda asked, "And Prince Fiyero's arms were the best place to nap?"
"I didn't know His Royal Highness would be there," Elphaba said, walking the Princess' petticoat to the hooks by the linen panels.
"But you did know him?" Galinda asked.
Her lady's maid turned and glanced into Galinda's eyes, before she said,
"We met once before, Your Royal Highness."
So they had met!
As Elphaba approached her, Galinda asked,
"When were you introduced?"
"When the King asked me to be His Majesty's archer," Elphaba said, unlacing Galinda's corset.
"And so you thought, you would continue to bother him with your presence by feigning illness and getting him to take care of you?"
Elphaba, unhooking Galinda's leather garment, stilled.
"If I could have prevented it, I would have never let anyone see me that way, Your Royal Highness. I have no reason to think that a servant who exposes faintness of spirit would ever be cared for by Gillikinese royalty or their guests," she said and went to place the corset on a hook and grab a white towel.
"Do you mean to say you are more to the Prince than just a servant?" Galinda asked.
Elphaba sighed. Walking back with the towel, she said,
"Your Royal Highness would have to ask Prince Fiyero what I mean to him."
"If—," Galinda said and placed a finger at the neck of Elphaba's dress, pinning her to her spot.
Elphaba gulped.
"—you disgraced the castle, in any way, with your behavior toward Prince Fiyero," Galinda said and slid her finger in a lazy zig-zag along Elphaba's collarbone "you will be very—very—sorry you did." Galinda's nails raked against Elphaba's chest and her lady's maid inhaled sharply.
"Please," Elphaba whispered. "I am sure His Royal Highness was merely being gentlemanly."
"You gave him no cause to believe anything more would be welcome?" Galinda asked, resting her palm against Elphaba's chest, feeling the Munchkinlander's heart beat rapidly against her hand.
"No," Elphaba said, staring at the tile floor. "I promise there is nothing between us."
Was there a chance Elphaba was being truthful? That she didn't have feelings for the Prince. That they hadn't had a sweet exchange?
"It seems the Prince is taken with Your Royal Highness," Elphaba added.
Galinda smiled. So Elphaba hadn't thought Galinda had feelings for her. That was a relief. But, Galinda in no way wanted Elphaba thinking she was jealous of Fiyero either. Only the unperfect experienced jealously and she was Princess Galinda Upland, flawless in every way.
"I hope you're wrong," the Princess said and Elphaba's gaze rose. "Prince Fiyero will be sorely disappointed if he had hopes of courtship. Sir Chuffrey, my betrothed, is coming tonight to visit for the Harvest Festival and he is a man far superior to the Prince."
Galinda turned around and slipped her chemise over her pale shoulders and tossed it behind her for Elphaba to hang.
Turning back around, she saw Elphaba set her garment on a hook and then turn toward her. Walking back, her lady's maid looked up and staggered. Elphaba surveyed Galinda's naked form, her eyes sticking to certain unmentionable places before the color of her cheeks deepened to near black. Galinda smirked, crossing her arms. Elphaba kept her neck unnaturally stiff as she fixed her eyes on the Princess' face.
If Elphaba could barely keep her composure seeing her undressed, what would she do in the bath? Galinda could make Elphaba get in, watch her flounder about, covered in her liquid aphrodisiac, coming against her will over and over. Galinda could slid her fingers into Elphaba's chapel of ease. She could make her lady's maid bob on them until they pruned.
"Last time, you didn't quite make it to bathing me," Galinda said.
Elphaba's jaw tightened.
"Most servants enter the water to their knees and sit on the fifth stair to wash me."
Elphaba quivered. Galinda noticed her grab at her dress like she always did when nervous. With one shove, Elphaba would be drenched.
Your Royal Highness is beautiful. No different than every other morning.
Of all times to remember Elphaba's damned kindness! Galinda felt a stab of guilt and bit her lip.
"But—" she said, "seeing as you have that water prejudice, I think it would be best if you just sat on the top stair above the water and hand me what I need as I call for it. Can you do that, creature?"
Elphaba nodded.
"I can!" she said, straightening, a shy smile forming.
"Then get on with it," Galinda said, taking the towel from Elphaba's hand, "Bring me my clay and mint oil!"
An hour after Galinda's bath, Elphaba had dressed her in her most elegant rose-colored gown and a lovely white silk scarf to hide her greenish-purple bruises. Galinda surveyed herself in the mirror, her hair pinned up with diamonds and purple sage buds; her face was freshly powdered; her lips glossed with melted bees wax; her cheeks adored with the red dust of crushed angelica. She looked like the portrait of her mother. Would Sir Chuffrey find her as enchanting as everyone had found the Queen? Would he delight in her company? Now that Galinda was 19, would Sir Chuffrey, at 35, find her grown up? Or would Galinda still seem a child? Or worse yet, would she appear too worn for his liking? Most Gillikinese women married at 16 and Galinda was three whole years past her prime. What did her darling look like now? Would he be even more handsome? She had waited for this day since the war began and her excitement at seeing her husband-to-be was almost enough to make her forget Elphaba in Fiyero's embrace—almost.
Galinda glanced at her lady's maid in the mirror. Elphaba, stood behind her, her eyes concentrating on a speck on the stone floor. What was that green creature thinking? Was she thinking of him? Oh, why, did Galinda care? Prince Fiyero could ruin the virtue of any woman he wanted. Elphaba was nothing to her. Nothing but an ugly vegetable whom she wanted dismissed. Galinda's eyes trailed over Elphaba's body. What would she do if she couldn't touch that soft emerald skin again? If she couldn't hear Elphaba's passionate screams? If she couldn't feel her bucking beneath her legs, Elphaba's hot maidenhead soaking her hand, her sheets? Galinda hemmed, touching her scarved throat.
It was time to put such childish thoughts out of her mind — she was meeting her betrothed!
Galinda left her bedroom and entered the Orange Smoking Room where Sir Chuffrey stood, in his military uniform, passionately talking to her father, Prince Fiyero, and the Prince's adviser. Sir Chuffrey's assertive gait, his broad shoulders erect like a buck, his muscular legs hoisting him inches above the other males, befit him as High Constable of the Gillikinese army of Paltos. The Paltos army was both a source of pride for Runcible Castle and a site of constant distress. More than once, Paltos was rumored to have plans to overthrow King Upland. Galinda knew that as Princess of Gillikin she could have been promised to someone of much higher-ranking nobility, but her betrothal to Sir Chuffrey was necessary to secure the peace of Gillikin.
Seeing Sir Chuffrey's corn-colored hair combed back to reveal his sculptured forehead, the plump rims of his lips, his focused silver-blue eyes, his solid chest, Galinda felt as if she were twelve again. How easily one slips back into the uncertainty of youth.
"Good evening, Sir Chuffrey," Galinda ventured and Sir Chuffrey's deep-set eyes flew to her, widening before they narrowed. He looked Galinda up and down and stared at her bared bosom with a furrowed brow.
"Is this my darling betrothed, my dearest Galinda?" Sir Chuffrey asked, smelling of soap, myrrh, and tobacco.
Galinda nodded and saw Fiyero smile at her.
"My little girl has grown," King Upland said. "Is she not a paragon of beauty?"
"Indeed. However, I don't understand why she's here?" Sir Chuffrey said, his hand swiping through his blonde locks as he wet his lips.
"Here?" King Upland asked.
"In the Smoking Room," Sir Chuffrey clarified as if it was obvious, "In Paltos, women aren't allowed in men's cabinets. Who knows what devilish things may come flying from our mouths and offend a lady's ear."
Galinda, eager to secure Sir Chuffrey's approval, said,
"I can't imagine anything you could say would ever offend—"
"How I forget the laxities of Mount Runcible," Sir Chuffrey said, interrupting her, "Where women wander wherever they want and speak whenever they please."
Galinda flushed, her neck and face red with embarrassment. Fiyero coughed his disapproval and Sir Chuffrey turned to glare at him, daring him to speak. But Fiyero only looked elsewhere.
"Our customs are different," King Upland said, "but perhaps after your marriage to my daughter, she will better learn your ways."
"I should hope. For as the proverb says: even dogs can be trained to hold their bark," Sir Chuffrey said and Galinda grimaced.
Were her words of no more value to her betrothed than the cry of an animal? While even more handsome than she remembered, she felt small and stupid in the High Constables' presence. She would just have to try harder to win his favor!
"Shall we go into the banquet room, and speak on things proper to men and women alike?" Sir Chuffrey asked.
"A fine idea!" King Upland said.
They sat with King Upland at the head, to his right was his adviser, to his left was Sir Chuffrey. Galinda sat next to her father's adviser, across from Prince Fiyero. Other Gillikinese ladies and lords filled the rest of the table. As slices of ham, plates of pheasant, blocks of cheese and cinnamon poached pears were brought forth, Galinda wished Milla was with her, but her cousin had asked for supper in her room. She needed time to rest from the slew of elaborate fall banquets.
Galinda ate in silence as Sir Chuffrey talked mostly of his new businesses in Paltos. She had little knowledge or interest in such conversations, nor was her opinion ever solicited. Sighing, she looked up and caught Fiyero gazing at her. Was he wearing a smirk? Had he noticed her boredom? His eyes gestured to Sir Chuffrey and then rolled. Certainly he didn't expect Galinda to join him in mocking her husband-to-be, did he? She had better manners than that.
While she couldn't keep up with Sir Chuffrey's conversations, it didn't mean he wasn't worthy of respect. In fact it was the Paltos army, and Sir Chuffrey at the helm, that succeeded in defeating Munchkinland, that razed the Munchkin Palace, and hoisted the Gillikin flag above it. And if military victory alone wasn't enough, Sir Chuffrey's family was exceedingly wealthy and respected. He was surely more learned and astute than this uncouth Winkie Prince. And then there were Sir Chuffrey's strikingly chiseled features and virile form. Thinking of his strong jawline, his splash of sand colored freckles, and his prickle of blonde stubble along his face, Galinda knew her betrothed, while not a prince, would still give her beautiful strapping children. She turned away from Fiyero, raising her nose and pretending to be interested in Sir Chuffrey's monologue as he said,
"Idleness is the general leprosy of our piping, potting, feasting masses who misspend their time in excess and debauchery. It is only through hard work and enforced diligence that they will ever rise above being lusty, hot-headed, and disorderly beasts."
Finishing his statement, Sir Chuffrey wiped the corners of his mouth as a hooded Elphaba was brought into the banquet hall for entertainment.
"What do you say to the Unionist injunction to honor and care for the lower stations, the poorest of them especially?" Fiyero asked.
"I prefer reason to Unionist doctrine," Sir Chuffrey said.
Elphaba sang softly in the background.
"So you don't believe in the Unnamed God?" Fiyero asked.
"Unionist traditions and the Unnamed God are not one in the same," the High Constable said, wagging his finger, "I don't believe in the dicta of the Unionist Church telling me to give the riches that I earned through the sweat of my brow, responsible character, and victorious conquests to the lazy, stupid and indigent to be squandered. As a steward of the riches of the Unnamed God, it would be a misuse of his graces. Rather than abiding by the old religious traditions, we ought to use reason and strength to increase our wealth and the Unnamed God's favor."
"Aren't the lower stations, known for their generosity, good nature, and long-suffering? Don't they provide us with the opportunity to practice piety and charity through almsgiving?" Fiyero asked.
"The poor pauperize themselves through drunkenness, impiety, idleness, extravagance, and immorality. Almsgiving would only reinforce such bad habits. Feminine sympathies do them more harm than good," Sir Chuffrey said sucking on a pheasant bone.
"You may be right," King Upland said.
"Of course I am, Your Majesty," Sir Chuffrey said, "Now that we've conquered Munchkinland, we can auction the land off to wealthy Gillikinese noblemen. Before they farm the land, we'll have the surplus of Munchkin serfs clear the poisons."
"And, if any of them should die from such work?" Fiyero asked.
"Then, we will only have lost a Munchkin and not a man," Sir Chuffrey said and Elphaba's voice stuttered.
Had that stupid creature forgotten the words to the Gillikinese anthem she was singing? Galinda glanced at the hooded singer, standing at the corner of the table between King Upland and Sir Chuffrey. Elphaba continued the song from where she left off.
"Do you honestly think that the Gillikinese are inherently superior to Munchkinlanders?" Fiyero asked the High Constable.
"Certainly you can't deny what's before your very eyes?" Sir Chuffrey said. "If Munchkinlanders had been our equals or our betters, they would have joined us in an alliance or even won the war, but they had no political strategy and were easily out-witted in battle. Even before the war began, the Munchkin royal family couldn't control their own serfs. There were constant uprisings. Munchkin royalty was as dimwitted and as ugly as the rest of their people, a people of no talents and no intelligence," Sir Chuffrey said.
"No intelligence?" Fiyero asked.
"None whatsoever," Sir Chuffrey said.
"Why don't we test your thesis? For the singer entertaining us tonight is none other than Munchkin royalty herself. Shall we ask her what she thinks of our conversation?" Fiyero asked.
Galinda's eyebrows shot up. Elphaba stopped singing. King Upland cleared his throat and then grabbed his goblet to wash down his food. What a horribly contentious man Fiyero was turning out to be! Have a servant talk in the Banquet Hall?! And not just talk, but contradict Sir Chuffrey?! Could there be a more ill-mannered suggestion? Sir Chuffrey had no reason to entertain this proposition.
The High Constable wiped his mouth and, snorting a laugh, pushed away from the table, and rose to his feet.
"Please don't leave Sir Chuff—" King Upland started to say.
"Shall we indulge the Winkie?" Sir Chuffrey said and with a swipe, ripped the sack off of Elphaba's head.
He gasped with surprise and took a step back. Fiyero smirked. Elphaba kept her gaze down, her hands clutching her dress.
"I mean you no offense by my presence, sir," the Munchkinlander said.
The table waited in silence for a whole beat, all eyes on Sir Chuffrey. The High Constable erupted with laughter, the tops of his shoulders fluttering with each chortle. Galinda exhaled.
"Her face alone corroborates my word. Have we not found the most foul, the most misshapen creature in all of Oz?" Sir Chuffrey asked and Elphaba stiffened, "But, if Prince Fiyero thinks this beast's opinion is so important, shall we all not indulge him and let it speak? Speak, you beastly woman, enlighten us with your beliefs!" he barked.
"I would not know what to say, sir," Elphaba said, still looking down.
"Here you have it. The epitome of idiocy—a Munkinlander!" Sir Chuffrey said.
"Elphaba, just tell us your opinions on the poor," Fiyero said and Elphaba glanced at him with obvious irritation.
"So you even know the creature's name?" Sir Chuffrey asked. Fiyero kept silent. "Yes, ghoulish Elphaba," Sir Chuffrey continued, "tell us your thoughts on the poor. Are they lazy idle creatures or are they noble wretches sent to us by the Unnamed God?"
Elphaba didn't move.
"Speak!" he yelled, his spit landing on her cheek.
Elphaba raised her gaze until she stared directly at Sir Chuffrey. The High Constable scowled. Galinda's stomach knotted at the tension. Elphaba, steadying her breathing, said,
"To frame the poor as noble wretches is to deny them their full humanity, the part that gets incensed, that grieves, that hates. And, it is pure condescension to frame their misfortunate as an opportunity for our spiritual betterment."
"Ha! So the beast disagrees with you, Fiyero. So much for gratitude, eh?" Sir Chuffrey said to the frowning Winkie.
"But—" Elphaba continued and Sir Chuffrey's head snapped back to her, "to say that the poor are evil and idle is to deaden our own humanity, justifying our privileges, defending our mistreatment of them, and making peace with their suffering, sir."
Elphaba had outsmarted them both. Sir Chuffrey eyes bounced around the banquet table. Fiyero grinned from ear to ear. Galinda tried to mask her awe of Elphaba's elegant response, with an expression of impassivity, but Sir Chuffrey's jaw trembled with rage.
Her lady's maid had stepped out of line. She had made Sir Chuffrey look foolish. She spoke impertinently to a Gillikinese man. Galinda should have felt only anger, but she couldn't quite extinguish her admiration. She had never seen a woman talk like that in the company of men, so confidently, so smartly.
"And who exactly are you?" Sir Chuffrey asked the Munchkinlander.
"Elphaba Thropp, sir."
"Spawn of Frexpar—Frexpar the Godly?"
"Yes, sir," Elphaba said evenly.
The High Constable snickered and turned back to the royal table.
"Do you know how we found him? Do you know how we found Frexpar, Interim Eminent of all Munchkinland, when we raided the castle?"
Elphaba's eyes widened.
"Don't!" Fiyero said.
"With his own knife sticking out of his heart! The coward killed himself rather than defend his country and family! He had no patriotism, no honor! He was a worm and no man! A worm soaking in his own blood." Sir Chuffrey turned to Elphaba and said, "We chopped off his head and stuck it on a flag pole outside the palace and the rest of his naked body we fed to the pigs."
Elphaba's face went a pale pea-green. She bent over as if she'd been kicked in the stomach, her hand cupping her mouth.
It was a cowardly move. A disgusting thing to say. Sir Chuffrey had meant to shame Elphaba with her father's suicide but he only showed how threatened he felt by her. Too ashamed to look at the High Constable, Galinda's sapphire eyes clung to her fingers as her father dismissed Elphaba from the dinner table.
Sir Chuffrey sat back down and said,
"My darling Galinda, you look upset."
"It's just this talk of death—"
"My apologies, my darling. You should never have had to hear of the war at all. Munchkinlanders bring out the worst in civilized conversation," he said and then glaring at Fiyero added, "Let us end all talk about Munchkinland this evening."
"Here, here," King Upland said, raising his goblet.
Galinda smiled and nodded in response. It wasn't Sir Chuffrey's fault. He wasn't really cruel. He had been provoked! If only Fiyero didn't try to make Sir Chuffrey look like a dullard in front of everyone, the High Constable would have never lashed out. But try as she might, for the rest of the evening, Galinda couldn't rid her mind of the image of pigs gobbling bloody flesh.
When Galinda entered her bedroom, Elphaba was behind on her evening chores, still readying her room, without any of her normal speedy efficiency. Instead her drooping body seemed to drift at a cloud-like pace. Normally, Galinda would have berated Elphaba for her dilly-dallying, but Sir Chuffrey's outburst made Galinda feel rather magnanimous this evening. She simply sat in silence at her vanity until Elphaba finished.
"May I ready Your Royal Highness for bed?" Elphaba asked, after she closed Galinda's curtains, her eyelids puffy.
It was about time. Her lady's maid could have at least thanked Galinda for being so patient. Sighing, the Princess rose and said,
"Yes, I should like to get to bed before the sun rises."
Staring at the floor, Elphaba showed no signs of hearing her. That damn Munchkinlander was trying the limits of her good will!
"Yes, creature, yes!" Galinda repeated herself and Elphaba floated into motion and removed her hair jewels, her gloves, then her outer clothing.
All the while, Galinda thought of Elphaba's answer to Sir Chuffrey, until she finally managed to ask,
"How did you learn things like that?"
"Things like what, Your Royal Highness?" Elphaba asked in a hollow voice.
"Your ideas on the poor," Galinda clarified while stepping out of her petticoat.
On bended knee, Elphaba looked at Galinda, hesitating.
"Did you read that? Did a book tell you your answer?" Galinda asked, staring into her eyes.
Holding onto the Princess' garment, her lady's maid rose in silence.
"You may speak freely," the Princess said.
"I learned many things from reading," Elphaba said, looking at Galinda's petticoat between her fingers, before she added, "—but I learned of the poor by coming to Runcible Castle."
"Why of course. Why didn't I think of it before," Galinda said and Elphaba looking at her with curiosity. Galinda wasn't stupid. Of course she understood what Elphaba meant. "Runcible Castle employs quite a fair amount of commoners and while we acknowledge their full list of human vices such as anger and self-pity, we generously and selflessly lift them out of their wretched conditions by giving them food to eat, clothes to wear, and suitable employment." Galinda summarized.
Elphaba's eyebrows rose sharply. Had Galinda's answer surprised her lady's maid? Was Elphaba amazed by her quickness of wit? Galinda surprised herself sometimes. Here she was conversing with a lowly, deformed troll that had just embarrassed Sir Chuffrey. There were plenty of reasons to despise her lady's maid, but Galinda had found it in her heart to be kind to her! Perhaps she would have something to offer her husband-to-be after all. She could compliment his masculine rationality with her blossoming charity for the lesser Ozian-kind.
Galinda looked at Elphaba who finished with her tasks, stood before her waiting to be dismissed. Her mind flashed back to Elphaba in the arms of the Winkie Prince. A hot rod of pain pierced her. Galinda reached out and felt Elphaba's soft cheek with the back of finger. Her lady's maid head snapped up, her eyes dilating.
When had Galinda's longing for the lavender and cinnamon scent of Miss Clutch turned into a tolerance for green. A fondness even? Once she married Sir Chuffrey, would she have to give up these pleasures? What sort of pleasures were they anyway? What made her want to touch her lady's maid, if it wasn't to torture her and make her leave? Maybe it didn't matter? Was it so important how Galinda managed to amuse herself? No man would ever truly love the vegetable anyway, so what was wrong if Galinda played with her now and then. If the juices Elphaba left on the castle stool, Galinda's sheets, or her fingers were any proof, it was clear that the vegetable enjoyed it. Galinda slid her finger between Elphaba's lips. Elphaba held her breath. And surely there was more than one way to show charity. Galinda's other hand rose to caress Elphaba's ribs covered in a thin layer of skin and cloth. Her lady's maid released a whimper, her lips pursing.
Galinda stroked higher. Higher. Higher.
"Please, Your Royal Highness! Please! May I be dismissed?" Elphaba whispered against Galinda's fingers that were slipping between her lips.
The Princess stopped with one hand on Elphaba's mouth and the other hand cupping her petite breast. Only their heavy breaths could be heard. Feeling Elphaba's warm wet tongue on her fingertips and her stiffening teat in her palm, Galinda wanted her lady's maid bare before her. All she had to do was say the word. Splash her a little. But Galinda could wait for Elphaba. Wait for a better time, another night, tomorrow night even? For she was Princess Galinda the Kind. Galinda removed her hands.
"You may go," she said and Elphaba scurried out. The Princess went to bed and was overtaken by dreams of soft, lurching, leaking greenness.
The next morning, Galinda awoke early, eager to meet Sir Chuffrey and her father for breakfast after her morning prayers. Perhaps today would be the day she could impress her betrothed. As her lady's maid dressed her, Galinda's eyes stuck to a sliver of green neck visible above the collar of her servant's dress. She felt a shiver between her thighs. Her lady's maid excited her too, but it was a different kind of excitement than the one she felt with Sir Chuffrey. How it was different she couldn't quite say. Walking downstairs to the chapel, she wondered if she would enjoy Sir Chuffrey's touch as much as she enjoyed touching Elphaba.
After prayers, she came to the breakfast parlor to find Prince Fiyero and his advisor eating alone. Taking a seat, Galinda exchanged good mornings before she asked,
"Have you seen my father or Sir Chuffrey?"
"I believe they headed out to the gardens to discuss Gillikinese politics, something about the dark fairies," Fiyero said.
So her father and Sir Chuffrey hadn't waited for her? Did her husband even care to get to know her before their wedding? Hiding her disappointment with a wide smile, she kept a light conversation with Fiyero, asking him about the culinary practices of the Vinkus, anything to avoid talking about last night, the High Constable, or her lady's maid. When they finished their breakfast, Fiyero said he planned to spend his day reading and taking strolls around the grounds. Galinda, relieved she wouldn't have to entertain him, excused herself to leave for the rose gardens.
She came to the garden's major white pavilion hoping to catch the High Constable and her father, but found Shell Thropp instead.
"Good Morning, Your Royal Highness," the servant said and bowed low.
Galinda "mm-ed" a good morning, not in the mood to enter into a full-worded conversation with the servant.
"Your Royal Highness looks radiant this morning. Is all well?"
"Not quite," Galinda said, sitting down on a white wooden bench next to blooming hyssop plants. "I had planned to spend the morning with our guest Sir Chuffrey, but it appears he has went walking this morning without me," she admitted.
"I can't imagine how any man could bear to leave your side," Shell said. Galinda's lips parted in mild surprise. She had forgotten how brazen—and just how enamored the servant was with her.
"I don't mean to be presumptuous, Your Royal Highness. Only to say that the warmth of one of your smiles, heats the soul in a way to make even the summer sun jealous," Shell added.
Galinda felt her cheeks fill with warmth, the servant's flattery acted as the perfect balm after being abandoned by the High Constable. Shell reminded her that she was beautiful and wanted.
"Are you really so fond of my smiles?" Galinda asked.
Shell keeping his head down said, "I am, Your Royal Highness. I am fond of everything about you—most of all—your kisses."
Galinda's ears grew hot. Simpering, she asked,
"Shall I give you another?"
Shell glanced up. His lips open in a surprised smile.
"There is nothing on heaven or earth that I want more," he said.
Galinda stood and said,
"Come to me."
Grinning, Shell rose from his knee and walked toward her, his tunic baring his left shoulder and pec, and falling high on his hairy bronze thighs. As he stopped inches from her, Galinda could smell his earthy scent, a mixture of sweat, damp soil, and roses.
She placed her palm on Shell's chest. He smiled and looked at her hand as it slid down his tunic. Galinda felt Shell's muscled stomach contract, the indent of his navel. She heard his breath deepen as her hand reached the crown of his coarse curly pubic hair underneath his garment. She had no desire to go any further, but instead she rubbed his pelvis in tiny light circles.
"Princess," Shell gasped.
Galinda saw his manhood quickly filling into a pole underneath his tunic.
"You're always full of vigor, aren't you?" she asked. Shell breath was too ragged to answer.
Placing her palms on his shoulders, she pulled herself up to kiss his cheek, her abdomen brushing the head of his hardening prick.
"AH—!" He twitched.
Galinda backed away. The strong Munchkinlander stood before her, unable to hide his hardness.
"Galinda!" Sir Chuffrey called, emerging from the bushes, several rows behind Shell. At the sound of the High Constable's voice, the peasant fell to his knee. Resting his forearm on his knee, his pressed his erection subtly against his thigh with his thumb. "Galinda, my darling, what are you doing out here alone?"
Galinda curtsied.
"I was looking for you," she said, bowing her head, grateful that Sir Chuffrey hadn't come a moment sooner.
"I'm sorry I didn't meet you for breakfast. Your father wanted to discuss the dark fairies," he said.
"Is everything all right?" Galinda asked.
"It appears they may have accosted the soldiers that went into the Forest last night to retrieve Lady Dayblwell's possessions," the High Constable said.
"Oh, no!" Galinda said, "That's terrible."
"It wasn't talk fitting breakfast with the princess of Gillikin. But don't worry, your father and I will come up with a plan to deal with this dark magic, whatever it is," Sir Chuffrey said and then glancing at Shell, asked "And who is this?"
"One of the royal gardeners," Galinda said.
"What's your name, boy?" Sir Chuffrey said.
"Shell Thropp, sir" he said.
"Another Thropp from the fallen Munchkin family? What are you doing here so close to the Princess?" Sir Chuffrey asked.
Shell's eyebrows furrowed, his body tightening.
"Tending to the royal rose gardens, sir," Shell said brusquely.
"Well then get to your post and don't bother Princess Galinda any further," Sir Chuffrey said.
Shell didn't move.
"Did you hear me?!" Sir Chuffrey shouted, walking toward him. "Sir Chuffrey," Galinda called, her hand falling through the air after the High Constable.
"Yes, sir," Shell said.
"Then why are you still here?"
"Because I am the gardner for the royal family and it is for Her Royal Highness to dismiss me when she wishes," Shell said.
"How dare you talk back to me, boy!" Sir Chuffrey said and grabbed the neck of Shell's tunic, hoisting him to his feet.
Shell dug in his heel. While a couple of inches shorter than Sir Chuffrey, Shell more than equaled him in muscle. The proud Munchkinlander stared back at the High Constable. With one fist holding Shell's tunic, Sir Chuffrey raised his other fist to strike him in his face. Punching him at such close distance would surely break his nose. Galinda grimaced and called out,
"Please, Sir Chuffrey! Don't. He was merely doing his job. He wouldn't have been close to me at all, if I hadn't come looking for you."
Sir Chuffrey paused, glowering at the gardener, before he slowly lowered his fist, and flung Shell back a step.
"I shall not hit you in front of Princess Galinda, but do not think I have forgotten this offense."
Shell glared at Sir Chuffrey, showing no semblance of gratitude. Galinda's stomach churned.
"Shell, you are dismissed for today. Go back to your quarters," she said.
"Yes, Your Royal Highness," Shell said, bowing low to Galinda, before turning away.
Sir Chuffrey stared after him until the gardner was far off in the distance.
"Thank you for not—" Galinda said.
"Galinda, you are not to speak to him again," the High Constable interrupted.
Her eyebrows rose. Not speak to Shell? She didn't even care if she ever saw the man again. But, who was Sir Chuffrey to tell her who she could or could not talk to—in her castle.
"I don't think I understand—"
"Don't-speak-to-him-again! What don't you understand?" Sir Chuffrey asked, turning around, his blue eyes narrowing.
"But, he's a castle gardener. Am I not to talk to my own servants?" Galinda asked.
"As my wife, you will not talk to any man outside your family, unless I allow you," Sir Chuffrey said and Galinda's chest heated. Was she a child? A toy that Sir Chuffrey planned to hide way? Not even her own father treated her like this!
"You forget I am not your wife—not yet!" she said, and walked away from the High Constable.
"Galinda! Galinda!" Sir Chuffrey called out, but Galinda just picked up her dress and ran. She ran toward the stables, tears falling down her cheeks. She had so wanted Sir Chuffrey to admire and respect her, but it was impossible. How would he ever see her as worthy of respect, if he insisted she were as fragile as an eggshell, to be kept tucked away until he needed her?
Galinda came upon the stables. They were emptied. All the servants were gone setting up for Harvest Festival and practicing for the Festival games. Sniffling, Galinda sat on a bench, underneath a window by the last stall. Wiping her tears, she heard familiar voices just outside the window.
"I've missed you. Why haven't I seen you anywhere in the castle?" Fiyero asked.
"I've been avoiding you," Elphaba said flatly.
What was this? Fiyero and her lady's maid talking behind the stables? Galinda climbed onto the wooden bench. Hunching down so only the top of her head and eyes were visible, she saw Fiyero standing holding Elphaba's arm. Her lady's maid stood looking away from him, toward the castle.
"Why would you avoid me?"
"I am a servant; you are a prince. There's nothing for us to talk about."
"You can't mean that. We talked plenty the other day by the orchards," Fiyero said.
"A servant in Gillikin can only say, 'Yes, Your Royal Highness' or 'Certainly, Your Majesty' or 'Yes, Sir.' If she tries to say anything else, there are repercussions. Repercussions that you don't seem to mind, because it is I who must endure them!" Elphaba said, wrenching her arm out of his grip.
"Are you talking about supper last night?"
"Yes!" Elphaba yelled, glaring at him, "How could you? How could you ask me to speak to that vile man? Don't you know how dangerous it is for a servant to speak?! But of course you don't! You'll never know what it's like to have to bite your tongue and bow your head while they insult you—pull at you—tear you to pieces!"
Fiyero grabbed Elphaba's shoulders. The Munchkinlander tried to twist away from him, but Fiyero pulled her closer, hugging her. Elphaba sank into him. He stroked her head and said,
"I'm sorry, Elphaba. I was such a fool last night, a coward who could not defend you."
Galinda's chest sparked with anger. Elphaba had deceived her! The Prince clearly cared for Elphaba. And watching Elphaba in his embrace, it appeared she had feelings for him. She talked to him like he was her equal, a friend even, definitely not her superior. Galinda had never seen this side of Elphaba. No matter how intimate she had been with Elphaba, Fiyero had gotten closer.
"Please don't avoid me anymore, Elphaba. I couldn't bear it. I'm already planning to leave early."
Elphaba leaned back in his embrace and asked,
"Why?"
"Ah—Is that concern I see in those brown eyes of yours? Is there hope that Elphaba Thropp Third Descending will miss me?"
Elphaba snorted.
"I haven't even gotten used to you yet. How could I miss you?"
"Shall I leave today then?" he asked.
Elphaba raised her chin.
"You may leave anytime you wish," she said.
Fiyero humphed.
"Would it please you to see me go?" he asked.
Elphaba paused, her gaze falling, her cheeks darkening. Galinda's heart thumped wildly in her ears.
"No," Elphaba admitted.
"I believe that's the kindest thing you've said to me," Fiyero said, grinning.
Elphaba ignored him and asked,
"But, you haven't told me why you're leaving?"
"King Upland has already signed the treaty and I can't bear to hear Sir Chuffrey dribbling on about himself for another two weeks. I don't believe in giving away the riches that I earned through the sweat of my brow to the lazy, stupid and indigent. As if the Paltos army was populated by a single man!" Fiyero said.
How dare Fiyero mock the High Constable that way!
Elphaba laughed—a hearty, full bodied, sultry cackle—head back, chest rising and falling. Galinda felt a wave of jealousy. Fiyero had no right to look at her lady's maid like that, to make her smile like that.
"As if the weapons and silks he stole from Munchkinland, he earned!" Elphaba said.
"How can fair Galinda stand him?" he asked
"She's too proud to see his faults," Elphaba said and Galinda felt her breath leave. "She asked me where I learned my opinion of the poor, if I had read it in a book," Elphaba said and snorted.
"What did you tell her?"
"I told her I learned of the poor from Runcible Castle," Elphaba said, "Before coming here, I had never lived in such abominable conditions nor experienced such indifference to misery, like the Gillikinese royalty exhibit toward their attendants."
"Was she not angry with you?" Fiyero asked.
"She was too vain to be angry. She thought I was praising the Castle's kindness toward their servants."
"Oh, the virtuous Gillikinese!" Fiyero said.
"If only narcissism was a virtue," Elphaba said.
Galinda's cheeks burned. So Elphaba hadn't been surprised by her intelligence. She had thought her an arrogant fool! Fiyero cupped the back of Elphaba's neck and drew her close, planting a kiss on her cheek. Galinda gasped. How could those lips kiss both Princess and monster? Elphaba stiffened but she did not pull away. His lips lingered on her cheek. How dare he! Elphaba belonged to her, and to her alone. No one else had the right to enjoy Elphaba without her permission. Not at all, not even a little.
"Meet me again," Fiyero pleaded.
"I don't know if that's wise," Elphaba said.
"I shall wait at the stables for you for seven nights until I take my leave."
Galinda felt sick.
"Perhaps I can see you one night," Elphaba said.
"Promise to come at least once," Fiyero said.
"All right. I promise, but now I really must go before the Castle notices my absence."
"Until we meet again," he said and she nodded.
Galinda watched Elphaba rush away and slumped down on the bench. Her lady's maid had lied to her. The Munchkinlander and Fiyero were quite enamored with each other. At the thought of Fiyero touching Elphaba, undressing her, Galinda started to shake with fury. It was clear what needed to be done. She couldn't waste another day. She would ask Crope for it tonight. After a little splash, she could easily slip it on Elphaba and keep her lady's maid all to herself.
A/N: Thank you for your comments on the last chapter! They were such a delight to read. Last month was hard to find time to write, but I managed to find some time in the first days of April. I hope you enjoyed the introduction of Sir Chuffrey, along with Galinda struggling to make sense out of all the feelings she has for Elphaba. I welcome your thoughts, comments, and premonitions. Beware: the next chapter shall take a turn.
