AN:
Okay guys and gals, I'm breaking my "promise" and post this early lol
Reason is that it's really, really hard for me to keep writing without publishing (it's actually not the missing motivation this time, but simply worrying about writing rubbish haha). Today I'm feeling a bit down, so my resolve kinda went flying out the window... I won't promise another early update, so I hope that this one here is not too disappointing - you might have to live with this one for about a month...
Fine, so here we go!
Please enjoy (I hope) and happy reading!
xoxo MLE
Chapter Two: Ga-linda with a 'Ga'
Exactly two weeks after the ball, Glinda received a letter from the Duke. He let her know that the Tiggular family was happy to welcome her at their castle in Kiamo Ko and that he would personally come to pick her up on the twentieth of this month. Glinda asked her handmaiden for the date and counted the days.
"Thirteen more days?" she exclaimed miserably and hung her head.
In this very moment, the jingling of too much jewellery announced Madame Morrible's arrival and the fish-faced woman came sweeping into the room in a flurry of emerald brocade.
"What is it with this raucous?" she scolded, shaking her head. "A lady must not speak so loudly that others can hear her from the adjacent rooms."
"Please forgive my excitement, Madame. But is this not a matter of upmost importance to my life? I think you can hardly blame me for being a little nervous."
"Perhaps, dearie. But always remember that you are going to be queen soon. A queen does not act like a common country bumpkin. Besides, it is time for lunch. A lady must not be late."
Glinda suppressed a sigh and quickly put the letter aside so her maid could help her dress and make up.
"I will be there in five minutes, Madame."
Her governess nodded curtly and decided to wait for her charge in the drawing room.
The next two weeks seemed to crawl along at snail pace. Still waking up every morning to the Prince's portrait's charming smile, she could not help but falling somewhat in love with the idea of marrying such a handsome young man. If he was nearly as good in the inside as on the outside, she would take him in a heartbeat.
Eventually, the eagerly anticipated day did come and the Duke of Mossleberg's carriage arrived in the courtyard of the Emerald Palace. The Princess came nearly skipping down the stairs in a cream coloured travel dress and a light brown cape draped around her shoulders. Her new look was tidy and elegant, only the colours were less vibrant and the fabrics not as sumptuous.
"My dear uncle," she greeted him, already fully in character.
"My precious niece," he replied, a little awkwardly, "it is so good to see you again."
She laughed at his attempt and lightly tapped his shoulder with her fan.
"I'm glad this trip will take a few days, uncle. I fear you still have to practice some more."
Offering her a sheepish smile, he began fiddling with his hat. Madame Morrible walked over to them, her spine as stiff as a poker.
"I still feel uncomfortable letting you go all by yourself, child. I just wish you would reconsider your decision to leave me behind."
"Please do not worry, Madame. I promise that I will be safe and behave. Besides, for the duration of the trip the good Duke will be my chaperone and at Kiamo Ko there should be plenty of servants available to attend to my needs."
She stepped closer and fondly took her governess' cold, fat hands in her smaller, slender ones.
"I certainly do not wish to offend you Madame, but were you to come along, you would only spoil my plans. You are too conspicuous and quite frankly, too meddlesome at times – in the most caring and devoted way, of course."
The Princess' sweet smile and words did little to appease Morrible.
"Please do not look so cross. I will say my farewell now and then I will board that carriage and be off. You are not to follow me; if the simple request of the girl you raised is not enough, I will have to command you as your Princess."
Huffing, the large woman accepted Glinda's heartfelt adieu and watched as the Duke helped the young woman into the carriage. Before he assumed his seat opposite the Princess, he assured the Madame that he would take good care of her charge and tipped his hat.
The journey to the Vinkus took them seven and a half days. The nights they spent at the best hotels and inns on their route. Admittedly even 'the best' was not always all too luxurious to begin with, but for Glinda, who was incredibly spoiled, yet surprisingly dauntless (for a princess), this only heightened her excitement over this little adventure. Gradually, the Duke lost his inhibitions and began to grow more comfortable in his new role as the young lady's uncle.
It was late afternoon when they finally arrived at the stronghold of Kiamo Ko. During their last rest in a small town near the castle, the Duke had arranged for a messenger to herald their arrival and so they were greeted by the Queen and a small reception committee.
"Oh, Gillbred," Queen Baxiana, a tall and lean brunette with an undeniable air of authority, said cheerfully, her hand ready to be kissed. "It has been far too long since we last saw you. Please do not be disappointed, but Marillot is not here. He is visiting a neighbouring territory to talk trade and alliance with some unruly would-be rebel king."
"Well, that is a shame, but I never intended to stay all that long anyway. I do not wish to be rude, but I merely came to drop off my niece."
"But you will stay for the night, I hope?"
The Duke bowed deep and smiled.
"If that is My Queen's wish."
"Yes, it certainly is," the tall woman replied. She clapped her hands and two footmen rushed to her side. "Now please show our guests to their rooms and see to it that their luggage is brought up." Turning towards her friend and casting a brief glance towards Glinda, she added, "We are entertaining company tonight. Please let the girl know to dress appropriately."
With that, the Queen headed back inside the castle, followed by the remaining servants.
Being so thoroughly ignored was new to the Princess and it made her feel strangely unwelcome.
"Come, sweet child," the Duke said, offering her his arm. "You do not need to worry; the Queen is a gentle and openhearted woman. She will properly welcome you at dinner."
Glinda nodded slightly and let the footmen show her to her chambers.
The Duke picked her up around dinnertime and escorted her to the parlour. Queen Baxiana noticed them as soon as they entered the room and greeted them warmly.
"Oh, good that you are here - and just on time. Everyone else is already present."
She took Glinda's arm and led her to the middle of the room. Although she had enjoyed extensive training in the art of socialising during her childhood years and beyond, the blonde could not deny that she was feeling somewhat nervous. Perhaps it was because this was the first party she had ever attended that was taking place in an unfamiliar setting, perhaps it was the overwhelming presence of men, which she still had to get accustomed to. She briefly scanned the perimeter and discreetly nodded to herself, one hand lightly squeezing the other. A refined young lady like her takes any situation she finds herself confronted with in her stride and so that was exactly what she would do.
"Dear friends, would you please be so kind and spare me some of your attention for a moment?"
Everyone's eyes were immediately directed towards the Queen and the princess in disguise. She had not expected to meet so many guests during her stay at the castle and was eternally grateful for the fact that barely anyone who did not live in the capital had ever seen her in person.
"This is Lady Galinda of the Upper Uplands."
Galinda curtsied, not entirely sure how low she was expected to bow her head, for throughout her still rather short life, she had always been at the receiving end of such high courtesy.
"She is a niece of our friend's, the Duke of Mossleberg and will be part of our family until she decides that it is time to return to her own."
The guests inclined their heads in recognition of the newcomer and the Queen gently ushered her toward a young woman, just about her age. She was taller than Galinda, but not by much and her hair was a very dark brown, almost black.
"May I introduce to you the Lady Sarima, my niece?"
"I'm pleased to meet you," the girl said in common Ozian, but with a notable Vinkun accent.
"It's entirely my pleasure," the shorter blonde answered and nearly forgot to curtsy. "My Lady."
"I am sure you girls will get along very well, so if you would please excuse me?"
With that the Queen took her leave and for a moment there was an uncomfortable silence between the two young women.
"So, what brings you to the Vinkus, Miss… um… Galinda, was it?"
Galinda was a little taken aback not to be addressed by her proper title, wondering whether it had been an accidental mistake or a deliberate denial of courtesy.
"Well, there was a fire that destroyed our family home and my parents thought that I should spend a few weeks away from Gillikin in order to find some distraction from this tragedy. So please forgive me if I won't be going into details here."
"That's absolutely dreadful, you poor, poor thing," the lady replied, but her voice did not convey much empathy. "Tell me, are you already betrothed to someone, Miss Galinda? A Gillikinese lord, mayhaps, or a gentleman from the city?"
The Princess blinked a couple of times.
"Excuse me?"
"Oh, do they not do that in Gillikin?"
Sarima seemed affectedly amused.
"You must know, I for my part am promised to Prince Fiyero."
"Oh, I see."
So this was the way the wind was blowing - Galinda had barely arrived, and already this Sarima seemed concerned that she could be after her husband to be. Speaking of which-
"Where is he anyway? The Prince, I mean," Galinda enquired.
Though maybe she shouldn't have asked, for Sarima seemed only all too pleased to demonstrate her intimae knowledge of the Prince's habits.
"Most like he is going to join us for dinner, or the gaiety that follows afterward," she informed Galinda. "He's not particularly fond of this idle chatter."
Galinda sighed inwardly. The way things were going, neither was she.
Another period of quiet followed and the Princess passed the time playing with her ivory fan and studying the people around her. She watched the Duke chatting with a woman she had not yet been introduced to and once their eyes met, he quickly wrapped up his conversation to come to her rescue. Politely, he apologised to Sarima for briefly borrowing her conversational partner, at which the Vinkun lady only waved dismissively.
"I would have thought that the Prince already being as good as married would be something worth mentioning beforehand," Galinda muttered under her breath once they were out of Sarima's earshot.
"Oh, did Lady Sarima say something? Well, do not worry too much about that, she is just being a little territorial. Believe me, this arrangement is definitely not as firm as she might have made it sound."
Galinda cocked her head.
"How so?"
Very gently, the Duke took her by her arm to guide her in a slightly more secluded corner of the room.
"The situation is this," he spoke quietly, eyes once more darting left and right to ensure privacy. "From a purely practical perspective, Lady Sarima is the safest choice for a strong Tiggular dynasty. The Prince, however, is a romantic at heart and dreams of marrying a girl he actually loves. So the King and the Queen proposed that he should try and find a wife on his own, but should this endeavour remain unsuccessful, he is to take his cousin as his wife."
"That sounds like a fair arrangement," Galinda nodded, wishing she had been granted the same privilege. "The King and the Queen must love their son very much."
Chuckling, the Duke took her hand and patted it lightly.
"It would seem so, my dear. But at any rate, the betrothal with Lady Sarima is not a matter you should be overly concerned about. Either you charm him and wrap him around your little finger, or you play the princess card. Whichever way this goes, you have already won."
"I suppose so."
The Princess's face assumed a distant, contemplative look, until a little silver bell rang and the Queen asked everyone to the dining room.
Galinda was not seated next to Sarima – thank Lurline! Instead, she was introduced to the Queen's brother and his wife - the Archduke and Archduchess of Upper Fanarra, and furthermore, the old Margreave of Tenmeadows. Sarima was sitting at the far end of the table, next to a vacant chair.
The first course was served rather quickly to appease the rumbling bellies of those guests who had arrived late and not attended the small tea party in the afternoon. Galinda herself had not had any food since breakfast, but was fairly certain that her slight unease, combined with the upset about her encounter with Sarima would cause her indigestion if she were to eat too much.
However, all those dismal thoughts were wiped from her mind, when a servant lifted the lid of the large tureen in the centre of the table and the mouth-watering smell of the consommé reached her nostrils. The soup tasted just as delicious as it smelt and Galinda, much hungrier than she herself had anticipated, even had to remind herself to make polite conversation as she emptied her plate.
For the next course, the soup bowl was removed to make space for a beautiful floral centerpiece. Since the servants needed some time to arrange the numerous appetizers and sides on the table, the old Margreave now turned toward Galinda, hoping to deepen their conversation.
"So your name is Galinda, isn't it?"
The blonde slightly dipped her head in response, wondering what he meant to say.
"That's a good, old Gillikinese name," the man noted approvingly. "I'm from Gillikin myself."
"I am aware. The Margreaves of Tenmeadows have always been difficult to overlook."
Given that the Tenmeadows' name stood for splendour, indulgence, occasional ruthlessness, as well as great generosity, her comment could have been interpreted in various ways, but thankfully, the Margreave chose to laugh.
"You are quite a smart and outspoken young lady," the Queen's brother chimed in then. "Well, maybe that is to be expected from a child named after the late Ozma's daughter herself."
Galinda could feel her heart skip a beat and her smile faltered briefly, but soon she regained her footing.
"Oh no, Your Excellency, you see; that's Glinda. My name is Ga-linda, with a 'ga'. And the Princess is also a year or two younger than I am, so the similarities are purely coincidental," she added in an afterthought.
"Is that so?"
For whatever reason, her table neighbours seemed genuinely interested in this conversation.
"It's strange though," the Margreave said thoughtfully, "I know the Uplands quite well, but I'm sure I have never heard of you. One ought to think that such beauty and wit should not go unmentioned at dinner parties and social gatherings."
For this sort of comment Galinda was prepared.
"Well, thank you. But I'm hardly surprised. I'm from the Upper Uplands, you must know, a lesser branch of the family, not as influential and hence generally disregarded."
"Oh, that's a shame. But I'm sure all of Oz will know your name once you found a fine man of suitable rank and title."
Had she been the girl she pretended to be, the Margreave's remark would have been immensely fluttering, so she tried her best to make her cheeks blush appropriately. Her attempts were moderately successful and the Margreave seemed all the more smitten with her in response and leaned but a little closer.
"If your parents have not yet found a good man for you, would it be too bold of me to recommend my grandson? He surely is a good-looking lad and not poor either."
This time, her cheeks flushed of their own accord and much darker than she had hoped.
Thankfully, none of the guests around her had a chance to notice, for in this very moment, the door to the dining room opened and two young men entered.
"Oh, there he is," the Margreave chuckled, motioning for his grandson to sit beside him.
Galinda spared the fair-haired man a brief glance, but then her eyes immediately darted towards the face she recognised from the portrait in her bedroom. Yes, he was definitely just as handsome in person, maybe even more so. Perhaps it was the light, but his eyes seemed even bluer and his skin even more bronze.
The entire party - safe for the Queen- rose to their feet and, although a little late and somewhat befuddled, Galinda copied them. The young Margreave to be dutifully followed his grandfather's orders and took the chair next to him, while Fiyero sat down between his mother and Sarima.
"My son should consider himself lucky to be of such high birth," the Queen said, raising her glass to take a sip. "No other but the Crown Prince himself would be greeted with so much respect after displaying such bad manners."
Amused chuckling briefly filled the room and the Prince cleared his throat to make some sort of apology.
"Please forgive us, dear friends. We were held up."
"Sure you were," the old Margrave whispered sharply, looking at his grandson, bushy brows raised.
The interruption was soon forgiven and forgotten, for the next course was finally complete and everyone helped themselves to their favourite dishes of stewed hare, fricassee of chicken, game hash or whatever met their fancy. Galinda, on the other hand, had truly lost her appetite now – not for the reasons she had considered earlier, but because she was simply too entranced just looking at the utterly perfect man on the other side of the table, who was soon to be her husband.
She remained sitting like this until the last course had been cleared form the table and fingerbowls with lemon wedges were placed in front of each guest so they may clean any food off their hands. It was then, that she realised with horror how unresponsive and rude she must have been over the past hour or so. Pledging to her self to mend her attitude, she tore her eyes away from the Prince as everyone filed out of the room to take their tea in the drawing room.
Feeling she had been sitting long enough already, Galinda remained in the back of the room, where a couple of guests were quietly talking among themselves. The others at the tables watched intently as the first performer of the evening took the small stage in the front. A professional pianist began to play and a stout woman, who Glinda identified as the lady the Duke had been talking to earlier, proved a well-trained singer of opera-style arias. After three numbers, she took her final bow and surrendered the stage to other volunteers.
Galinda soon lost interest and decided to join a discussion about classical Gillikinese poetry – not because she was a lover of literature, but because she happened to be exceptionally well educated in this particular subject. Having been taught by the most notable professors in their field, she was able to give insights that found much approval and the Princess began to feel a little more at ease.
As the conversation began to drift off to waters unknown to the blonde, she excused herself under the pretext of craving some refreshments. She located a table that was nowhere near Sarima's and sat down, waiting for a servant to pour the tea for her. She studied the three-tiered tea tray, trying to decide which of the treats might be the most delicious. Before she could make a choice, however, unusually loud clapping and cheering steered her attention towards the stage.
The Prince himself had taken over the piano and Lady Sarima stood next to him, offering him a bright smile before turning to face their audience. Sarima's singing was rather good, Galinda had to admit. Perhaps better than just good, she corrected herself and chewed the insides of her cheeks in mild annoyance – a terrible habit even her strict governess had never been able to rid her of.
To keep her irritation at a minimum, she tried to focus on the Prince's play instead. He obviously was no virtuoso, but did well enough and there was something mesmerising about the sight of his hands gliding across the keys. Only belated, Galinda realised that it was the small, blue diamond tattoos that had caught her eye in the first place and now that she was fully aware of them, she could not stop herself from staring. Even after the pair had finished their second number and he walked off the stage, her gaze kept following him, firmly trained on his tattooed hands.
She had not paid much attention to her surroundings, but when the words 'Lady Galinda' and 'piano' reached her ears, she looked up with a start, realising that several quests were watching her expectantly. The heat rose to her head as she licked her pink, glossy lips. She must have been foolish enough to tell someone about her piano lessons without mentioning the fact that she hadn't had the chance the to play the past few years.
"Don't be shy, Lady Galinda," the old Margreave tried to coax her, "I'm sure those dainty fingers of yours would enjoy a little dance across the keyboard."
There was no question that the Margreave had already had his fair share of wine at this point, but that did not mean that she could easily refuse his request without being incredibly rude.
Rolling back her shoulders, she slowly stood.
Before she even took her first step toward the stage, however, the Queen rose from her chair to make an announcement.
"Oh, I'm terribly sorry, but I believe it is about time for us to commence with the drama reading section of the evening."
The Princess released a small breath and relaxed a little, until the Queen spoke again.
"Lady Galinda, since you won't be able to delight us with your musical skills tonight, how about you read the role of Princess Tiliana for us?"
"Of course, your Majesty," Galinda replied with a bright smile, but inwardly she was absolutely mortified. She had never been good at reading and as the Crown Princess never been forced to perform in front of an audience.
Together with the other participants, she briefly disappeared in a small adjoining room to equip herself with some improvised costume elements and props. A simple crown on her head and a wooden sword in her hand, she re-emerged and took up position on the stage.
'The Rose and the Pearl' was a drama based on a classic Gillikin ballad. It told the story of courtly love, a terrible curse and finally the sacrificial death of the heroine. Galinda fought her way through every line she had to read and more than just once found herself horribly embarrassed when she mistook one word for another. The audience seemed to enjoy themselves greatly – at least partially at her expanse, she assumed. Her only joy was the moment she could at last drive that ozdamned sword through her heart and die. As far as she was concerned, her interpretation of Tiliana's death scene was her only at least partially decent theatrical accomplishment that evening.
With the end of the play, the dinner party came to a close as well and Galinda could not have been any more relieved. The Duke accompanied her back to her room, but the two of them exchanged barely a word.
"Good night," she said quietly as they reached the door and he nodded, offering her an encouraging smile.
"Fresh dreams, my child."
A maid helped her out of her many layers of dress and combed her hair, then she was all alone in the big, foreign room. She flopped herself face forward onto the fluffy bed and released a muffled wail.
With much effort, she rolled over, staring up to the canopy of the bed. The face of the handsome Prince appeared before her mind's eye, but instead of smiling serenely like she used to whenever she thought of him, she only blushed furiously in shame. Maybe she should have been disappointed that he had never even tried to talk to her that evening, yet given the circumstances, she was rather glad at that point. She reminded herself that he would be hers, no matter what would happen, if she only said the word. At the same time, she began to doubt and even regret her decision to come to Kiamo Ko like this. Perhaps, she should have simply sent a letter and ordered him to the Emerald Palace to get to know him, just as Madame Morrible had suggested. It was too late for this now, however, so she would put on a brave face and continue to play this stupid little game, for the better or the worse.
The following day, on her way to the breakfast room, she walked into Lady Sarima.
"Good morning, Miss Galinda," the dark-haired woman greeted her with a cheerful smile and the Princess irately began to chew the insides of her cheeks again.
"Good morning to you, too, Lady Sarima," she managed to say as she bobbed her head but a little.
When the two women arrived at the table, the servants tended to their every need, but despite the delicious dishes they were being served, Galinda grew more and more sullen by the minute. And so it came that after only one pancake with banana slices and chocolate drizzle, she left without even excusing herself.
Back in her room, she rang for the maid to help her dress. Barely finished with the corset, the maid was interrupted in her work by a loud knock on the door. She left Galinda and soon returned with a calling card.
"The Prince is asking you to join him for a morning ride, My Lady," she said, handing her the piece of paper.
Galinda's eyes widened. To say that this invitation came as a surprise would certainly have been an understatement.
"My habit skirt is in the emerald green garment bag," she instructed the maid in an even voice, trying her best to suppress the nervous smile that was about to force its way onto her slightly flushed face.