Never in his life had Fiyero been as nervous as he was now, standing in front of the house he had seen Fae disappear into the night before. He took a deep breath, trying to force his racing heart to slow down. This is it, he told himself. I have found her. Now it's up to her. If she does not want me – it's over. He clenched his fists to stop his hands from trembling and nodded at the chamberlain leading the search party to knock on the door, which quickly opened to reveal an expensively dressed middle-aged woman with a fake smile plastered on her face.
"Why, to what do I owe the pleasure of receiving another visit from you, Sir?" she asked the chamberlain. "If you would like to ask my sweet Nessa to try on that beautiful slipper again, you are more than welcome!"
"No," Fiyero said loudly, stepping forward. "I am here to ask about the other girl who lives here."
The woman's face turned white as a sheet when she recognized him.
"Your Highness!" she said, her voice rising almost an octave. "I am honored and humbled by your presence, but I am afraid there is no other girl living here."
"That's a lie," Fiyero said, trying to keep his voice firm and steady, even though he was beginning to doubt himself. "I know there is one other girl."
"My Prince, I swear, it is only me and my Nessarose!"
"No, it is not." A pretty, young girl appeared in the doorway, and Fiyero, taking a look at her wheelchair, suddenly vaguely recalled seeing her at the ball. "Elphaba lives here too, Madame. If His Highness wishes to see her, we have no reason to deny his request."
The woman in the doorway was speechless. Her face took on a strange expression; as if there was a fire burning in her head and she did not exactly know where to direct the steam.
"Oh, forgive me, Your Highness," she said and the sweetness of her voice was revolting. "Of course, there is one other girl under my roof, but it did not even cross my mind to consider her worthy of your trouble. She is just a lowly servant, a scullery maid, nothing of any significance…"
"I wish to talk to her."
The woman forced an obedient smile, then turned around and walked into the corridor. From further inside the home, Fiyero could hear her yell loudly – Elphaba! Down! Now! – after which she returned and invited him to follow her inside. Swallowing his fears, he entered the dimly lit hall and – clutching the jeweled slipper in his trembling hands – nailed his eyes on the wooden staircase, listening to the sound of approaching footsteps.
And then, there she was. At first glance, she looked nothing like the girl from the ball, but Fiyero knew without a doubt that she was the one he had been looking for – not just today, but his entire life. It was irrelevant that her clothes were dusty and rugged. He could not care less about her messy hair or her bare feet. It did not bother him in the slightest that her skin was shockingly emerald. He had found her. Nothing else mattered.
"Fae," he said, extending a hand to her. "I have been looking for you."
•••
For the second time within a few days, Elphaba was not quite certain whether what she was experiencing was real or just a dream. Since the moment she met Fiyero, she had been terrified of what would happen if he ever found out who she really was – and yet here he was now, standing in front of her, looking at her face, her horribly green face, with that charming smile of his that made her melt; and extending his hand to her, almost as if he was not at all disgusted to touch her, despite the color of her skin… She had not even been aware of what she was doing, not before her skin touched his; and her hand fit into his so well, she could do nothing else but follow him when he led her down the stairs. He asked her to sit in the kitchen chair, where he kneeled in front of her, glancing at her with fearful anticipation as he held up the jeweled slipper.
"May I?" he asked, and she could think of no reason not to allow him to slip the shoe onto her foot. He looked up at her, smiling. "Would you look at that. It fits perfectly!"
Only then did Elphaba dare to meet his eyes, and the warmth in them overwhelmed her all over again.
"It appears so," she said shyly and Fiyero's smile grew even wider, his shoulders sinking in relief. "Quite strange. I understand you have been looking for the beautiful Fae… and yet, the slipper only fits the hideous Elphaba."
The prince shook his head.
"No. It fits the intelligent, kind, caring, beautiful Elphaba." He took her hands, giving them a gentle squeeze, and Elphaba could only smile at him as she felt a deep blush color her cheeks. "I want to take you away from here. I don't expect you to want me. You will be free to go wherever you want and do whatever you please. But I can't bear the thought of you being stuck here for even one more day."
"I…" She hesitated, turning to look at the door, where Madame Morrible and Nessarose watched the scene curiously. Yet, while her stepmother's eyes were wide with enraged disbelief, her sister looked calm and thoughtful.
"Elphaba… If you wish to go, you're free to do so," she said. Madame Morrible started to protest, but Nessarose looked up at her and added: "Elphaba is not a slave, Madame. I have become an adult, and therefore, my father's house and fortune are now mine to do with as I please. If I need help, I will be more than able to hire a maid. I don't need my sister to serve me. She deserves to finally have her freedom." She looked back at Elphaba and her lips formed something almost resembling a faint smile. "You have always been good and kind to me, Elphaba. For once, it's time for me to pay you back."
Elphaba looked at her sister incredulously, but the continuous feeling of Fiyero's warm hands gently holding her own made all of her doubts fade away. She nodded at Nessarose and turned back to look at the prince kneeling before her.
"If you wish me to go with you," she said, hardly able to get the words out, "I will. I will go with you wherever you please."