Elphaba was concentrating. Or, at least, looking like she was. She was trying to focus on the history lecture, but her mind kept wandering. She always prided herself on her hyper fixation on learning, no matter how boring the lectures were, but today wasn't one of those days.

"Miss Elphaba?"

She blinked, slowly tearing her gaze from her notebook to look up at the lecturer. Dr. Dillamond was one of the most knowledgeable professors at Shiz University, so it made sense that he would travel to the Emerald City Palace once a week to tutor the Ozian heir.

She'd insisted the professor treat her no different than his students back at the university. Which meant no sugarcoating, no endless bowing, and no titles. She wanted this to feel as normal as possible. And since her father wasn't overseeing from the classroom, she could get away with these rules.

Many people raised their eyebrows at a Goat teaching a princess, but his credentials spoke for themselves. The modules for his classes always filled first, with an extensive waiting list for those who unfortunately missed out on a spot.

"I'm sorry, Dr. Dillamond. Could you repeat your question?"

"When did the Great Plague end?"

She glanced down at her notes. She didn't have the answer, and he probably said it while she was daydreaming. "I don't know, sir."

The Goat was momentarily surprised, since his private student usually had all the answers, and looked at her notes. She only managed to write down half of what he said. "You're distracted today. You have an exam on this material next week."

"I apologize."

He nodded. "Which Ozma was queen during the Great Plague?"

"Ozma the Bilious." At least she knew that.

"It started during her reign, but did she see the end?"

"No. She succumbed to the plague."

"Ozma the Victorious was after her. Did she see the end of the plague?"

"Yes. She reigned from 814 to 838, and the plague ended in…" She flipped through her notebook. "817."

He smiled. "Good." He turned back to the chalkboard and erased the material.

"How does a country recover from an economic crisis?"

He paused at the sudden question. "Well, throughout history, numerous economic crises and crashes have been rectified by war. As terrible as war is, it's a great way to stimulate the economy… of the victorious country, that is. Sadly, the losing country's economy collapses and they must, almost always, rebuild from scratch."

"That's how all economic crashes end? With a war?"

"Or borrowing bits of money from other countries… or a bailout. Not all solutions have to be violent." He peered at her over his glasses. "Why do you ask?"

"The Vinkus's economic situation…"

"Ah. Though it seemingly came out of nowhere, it's not the worst one I've seen. The Royal Family absorbed the bulk of it to prevent the villagers from being hit as hard. In fact, I've asked for copies of their most recent statements to be brought over. It will be good for you to also learn from current events."

As if on cue, someone knocked at the door. Dr. Dillamond opened it, and a flustered young servant bowed deeply to Elphaba before handing the Goat a large case file.

"Thank you," Dr. Dillamond nodded, closing the door and giving the papers to Elphaba.

The green girl opened the file and studied it, making mental notes of higher-than-average and lower-than-average numbers. "Their exports were doing marginally better than previous years. There are some back loan payments, and an obscene amount of spending on…" She squinted, "miscellaneous spending."

"The Crown Prince has a habit of overspending from the royal purse."

He seemed unaware that the prince was now working in the palace because of this. "But the prince's spending the royal purse couldn't have affected the economy this horribly. At least, it shouldn't have."

"It didn't, but the royal purse is for all the royal's personal expenses. It's how they pay their staff and support themselves. They don't do it on the government's dime. Only a tiny percentage of taxes goes into the royal purse. The rest is from their various estates and a small percentage of tourism. That means –"

"It doesn't refill as quickly," Elphaba finished, still reading the documents. "They are barely hanging on. These numbers are insane. What's this?" She pulled out the paper in the very back and skimmed it. "It's a letter… from King Raal and Queen Amalie. They're asking my father for help. Not a full bailout, but the amount they're asking for would buy them some more time to solve the problem. This was received weeks ago. Why were they denied?"

"His Ozness felt that with the Crown Prince's behavior, he can't help them. If you were to ask me, I'd say it's because he feels like he can't trust them. He doesn't want to give money to a country that will have a leader he thinks will run it into the ground."

"So… they didn't get the bailout because of the prince?" Did Fiyero know this? Was he dealing with this seemingly unknown burden? She thought he'd finally stop viewing his time here as a "punishment", but she knew that if he knew the truth, it would always be considered a "punishment" to him.

"I cannot say 'yes' or 'no', but I can say it was probably a contributing factor. But I must admit, I had the… privilege of having the prince in my Ozian History module last semester. He only showed up to two classes. Later, I was informed he had disenrolled from the university."

He read the files over her shoulder, making comments and mini-lessons on the numbers, effectively ending talk of the prince's past studies, or lack thereof.

"The royals cut back on their expenses, and are using their personal funds to try and help the government get back on track," he continued. "From what I've heard from my friends and colleagues back in the Vinkus, it's slowly getting better, but there's still an awfully long way to go."

Elphaba mulled over her professor's words. This didn't change the way she saw Fiyero. If anything, it made her understand him more.

Both halves of Elphaba's life were secrets to the two men she wanted to be close with. She couldn't tell Fiyero about her father, and Oz knows she couldn't tell her father about Fiyero.

She wrung her hands, standing in front of her mirror. Her father requested she attend the Royale Ozian Opera House's opening night performance. The only problem was that she had planned a special evening with Fiyero in the courtyard. It would be a downgrade after the rooftop moment, but it would still be a special experience. Now she had to miss it, and she hadn't thought of a lie as to why.

A disembodied voice pulled her from her thoughts, and she whipped around, surprised to see Galinda. "What?"

"Apron."

She looked down and realized she was still wearing her kitchen apron. She ripped it off and shoved it behind the curtains. "Thanks."

"It's what I'm here for."

"When are we leaving?"

"Your father wants to leave exactly at six-thirty." She went into Elphaba's wardrobe, rummaging through the dresses. "That gives us thirty minutes. Are you ready?"

"I'm ready to put on a smile for the next five hours. I'll be exhausted and probably won't be able to feel my face afterwards, but I'll be okay."

"I'll be attending tonight, too."

"So you won't let me sleep through it?"

She peeked her head out with a grin. "I was hoping you'd be able to keep me awake."

"During a five-hour opera? I think the fear of Father's wrath should keep both of us awake."

"Just picture everyone in their underwear."

"That… that's what you do when you're afraid of public speaking."

"Or when you're bored at a five-hour opera." She pulled out a fancy dark blue gown with golden trimmings and helped the less-than-willing green princess into it. "Ten minutes to spare," she smiled as she pulled her hair into an elegant twist, secured with multiple bobby pins. "You don't like it?" she asked when she didn't get her usual grateful smile.

"I'm missing an evening with Fiyero. I told him to meet me in the courtyard. I couldn't cancel and come up with an excuse. He's gonna be waiting for me all night. I didn't have time to…"

"He still doesn't know who you really are?"

"No. And he hasn't let on that he knows. So… no."

"Elphaba, you can't keep lying to people like this. It's not gonna turn out nice when the truth comes out."

"They're not going to be thrown into the dungeons, so there shouldn't be a problem. I will tell the truth when I feel the time is right. But right now, I'm enjoying having real conversations and real... fun. And I want to enjoy it for as long as possible."

The blonde's face brightened as she put the puzzle pieces together. "You like the prince."

It wasn't a question. "I enjoy our conversations and his company. I just said that."

"But you like him. Say it, Elphie. You like Prince Fiyero."

She made a face, but it slowly melted. "I like that I have the chance to get to know someone without the propriety and deference and slipping over words. I like that he is considered someone I can trust. I… like Fiyero." That was as far as she was prepared to go. She knew she couldn't handle her friend's excited squeals and demands for details, as well as slight chastising for being on the roof, at the moment.

The blonde beamed. "Good. Since you trust him, you can tell him the truth."

"I trust him with a truth I don't necessarily want to tell him." She turned with a forced, small smile. "Thanks, Glin."

She curtsied, realizing the end of the conversation. "Of course, Your Royal Highness."

She knew her friend was doing this to get her ready to put on her façade with her father. She exhaled the last bit of her emotions and walked out, hearing the blonde's footsteps behind her.

The Wizard was waiting at the foot of the staircase, his face neutral as he watched his daughter and her companion approaching. "Elphaba. Lady Galinda."

The girls curtsied in unison, following the monarch out to the waiting coach. Galinda snuck in a quick hand squeeze before they climbed in, silently telling her friend that she knew it would somehow work out in the end.

Fiyero paced in a circle. He was sure he was wearing a path in the grass, but he didn't care. He shoved his hands into his pockets, muttering under his breath. There was a light breeze, but to him, it felt like a bone-chilling blast.

Where was she? She told him to meet him here. Perhaps she was still in the kitchens. He hurried back inside, but the kitchens were clean, dark, and Fae-free.

Maybe he had just missed her, and she was outside. He hurried back. But the courtyard was still empty. He stayed an extra hour, silently pleading for her to show, but when she didn't, he dejectedly made his way back to his room.

He changed into his pajamas and collapsed into bed, burying himself underneath the covers, hoping sleep would make him forget that he was actually hurt at being stood up.

"You've stopped coming to the kitchens."

Fiyero looked up as Elphaba fell in step with his strides down a back hallway.

"I haven't seen you in a few days," she continued, tucking her hair under her cap and tying her apron strings into a large bow behind her back.

"I've been busy. I've developed a strong work ethic. Perhaps that's why my parents sent me here; to instill a sense of discipline and duty." He was only half-bluffing, and he knew she'd see right through it, but didn't care. "And I've been exhausted, going right to bed."

"Since you haven't been around, I never got the chance to apologize to you."

He stopped and turned to her. "What happened that night? Did you forget?"

"No."

"Did you change your mind and not want to come?"

"Not… exactly."

He frowned and quickened his pace. As flirtatious and scandalacious as his reputation was, one thing he could boast about was never standing a girl up. And he prided himself on that level of loyalty.

"Wait!" She reached out and grasped his wrist.

He stopped, but didn't turn around.

"Let me make it up to you. Come down tonight. Please. I can't promise you an explanation, not yet. But I promise I'll be there tonight."

Later that evening, though he didn't want to, Fiyero made his way down to the kitchens. When he got there, he found Elphaba standing in front of the oven, staring intently at a loaf of bread slowly rising. "Fae."

The green girl turned and smiled. "Hi. You're early."

"And you're here."

"I said I would be." She hadn't thought that her missing an evening would decrease his trust in her, but she was clearly mistaken. The timer dinged and she turned her attention back to the oven. "Give me ten minutes." She slipped her hands into the oven mitts and carefully took the bread out of the oven. "What?" she blinked when she heard Fiyero laughing over her shoulder.

"It looks like a butt."

She blinked slowly, then looked at the hot loaf. She realized it, indeed, looked like two butt cheeks. She turned with a deadpan expression. "You're such a child."

"It's butt bread!" he exclaimed with a cheeky grin.

She rolled her eyes and set the butt bread aside to cool. "That's for tomorrow. But this…" She gestured to the small table in the corner, decorated in special desserts, "is for now."

He beheld the display. "Did you bake all these yourself?"

"Not alone. These are leftovers from the Wizard's lunch. I said working in the kitchens has its perks."

The two enjoyed their snacks together. They didn't do much talking, though a particular subject was dancing on the tip of Fiyero's tongue.

"Fae? That kiss… on the roof…"

"No, it wasn't a dream," she stated matter-of-factly.

"That doesn't mean I don't need a dream interpreter."

She stared at him. "What's there to interpret?"

"We kissed… on the roof of the palace. Surely there's something significant about that."

She licked her lips. Was there? She wanted there to be, but she knew she couldn't allow it. If her father ever found out, there'd be hell to pay. "There was for me. And you?"

"Yes."

"Well, I suppose this is one way to avoid an insurrection."

He caught her teasing tone and chuckled. "I do what I must for my country." In more ways than one, he added silently.

"We all do."

She noticed his hand resting on top of hers. She had to force her eyes away from their hands to his eyes. This wasn't the playboy prince who partied most of the royal purse's funds away. Well, it was, but he was different now. She could see that.

Her lips curled upwards on their own accord, and she gently squeezed his hand. He squeezed back, and she was so enamored in this feeling that she didn't hear the footsteps pounding down the steps. She was solely focused on mustering up the courage to do what she should've done a long while ago.

"Fiyero, there's something I've been wanting to tell you for… a while. It's not bad, I promise," she added quickly when his face dropped. "I haven't been completely honest wi-"

"What in Oz's name!?"

The two jumped apart at the loud voice, Elphaba's eyes widened when she saw who had interrupted their moment. "Father…"

"Father?" Fiyero repeated, his jaw dropping. He quickly remembered himself and bowed. When he righted himself, he glanced at Elphaba.

Her calling the Wizard 'Father' meant...

That would make her...

And that would make him... the most brainless person in Oz.

The Wizard stood in the doorway, glaring at the two. He was still fully dressed, probably from a late night in the office. Behind him, Galinda was frozen in fear, biting her bottom lip. She looked like she wanted to say something, but everyone knew what – or who, rather – was stopping her.

"Elphaba! What are you doing down here? What are you – alone with Prince Fiyero? An – an apron?!" he scowled. His mere presence was enough to suck all the warmth from the room, and all three young adults quivered.

Elphaba looked down and tore it off. "Father, I can explain –"

"Father?" Fiyero whispered, multiple emotions flashing across his face. Oz, he felt so stupid.

The older man marched up to them, his anger evident in every part of his face. "No daughter of mine will –"

Fiyero's shock stopped him from hearing the rest of that sentence. And judging by the look on Galinda's face, he probably should be glad he didn't. He could only stand and stare as the Wizard grabbed Elphaba's arm and dragged her up the stairs. Galinda watched them go before turning back to Fiyero with a mouthed 'I'm sorry' and hurried after them.

The "butt bread" is something that happened at my friend's house while we were writing a song together. He was baking bread and when he came back, he was holding it and laughing, saying it looked like butt cheeks. Needless to say, the song wasn't finished that day. XD