AN:

Long AN today lol

Let me begin with a couple of apologies:

1. I'm sorry (but not really lol) to tell you that, for the next two chapters, we'll be taking a bit of a detour. Maybe some of you will find this boring, but the way it all plays out in my head, the kinda side-plotish stuff going on is justified and at least mildly necessary. As I said, it's only 2 chaps - you'll survive, right? ;)

2. I apologise to everyone who might be annoyed/ bored with the horsie crap - I promise, this won't end up a Pony Club x Wicked crossover! Only these two more chapters and I'll barely ever mention the word 'horse' again :p

3. This one is just in case you feel the same like I did today during proofreading: There are some weird sentences in this chap, but I couldn't fix them in a manner that wouldn't make them look terribly clumsy somehow... I hope it's not as bad as I think it is (^_^;)

And finally, on a happier note:

wicked gravity: (Since I can't PM you) Thank you very much for reading and commenting! Very much appreciated and I'm glad you're enjoyed last week's chapter!

OK, that's all for today... and now:

Happy reading! :3

Chapter Eight: The Golden Cage

The two girls came cluttering down the stairs, laughing and tumbling as they went, stumbling over each other's, as well as their own feet. They had taken the passageway through the library and had now reached the door to Elphaba's room.

"Finally. Back to safety," the emerald Princess gasped, taking a deep breath and trying hard to calm her laughter.

She turned the doorknob and pushed the door open.

"After you, My Lady Galinda," she chuckled, but when her eyes caught sight of the figure on her bed, she froze on the spot. "Yero. What are you doing here?"

The Prince who had been lying on the bed moved to sit.

"So you're back," he said evenly, but with a strange expression on his face. Galinda could not quite place it. "Had a great night, I hope? I, for my part, have been worried sick about you."

Elphaba motioned for Galinda to come in, then closed the door behind her.

"I came by to see how you were doing and you were simply nowhere to be found: not in your room, not in your library; I had no luck in the gardens either. After your most recent adventure in the wilderness, I was rather alarmed by your absence, as you might imagine."

"Well, thank you for your concern," Elphaba retorted coolly, and Galinda could have sworn the temperature in the room instantly dropped a couple of degrees.

Fiyero's jaw clenched in response and his eyes hardened. Now he definitely looked angry.

"Where in Oz were you?" he demanded in a harsh tone that almost frightened the blonde.

"Please, calm down, Fiyero," Galinda piped up meekly. "She was with me. The entire night.

"In my room," she added a clock-tick later, when she realised, that her first statement by itself would provide little cause for relief.

If she had thought that this would appease the Prince, she had been sorely wrong.

"Seriously?"

Fiyero pushed himself up from the creaking bed and took a huge step towards his sister, leaning against the shelf and cornering her against the door. The Princess remained seemingly unperturbed and stubbornly met his eyes.

"Haven't you gotten her into enough trouble already?" Fiyero asked, pointing in Galinda's direction. "Oh, I know! Maybe you're deliberately trying to get mother to send her home!"

While the raven-haired girl didn't do as much as quirk an eyebrow, the blonde bristled immediately.

"No, Fiyero, you don't understand-"

"It's all right, Galinda. This is something my dearest sister and I have to deal with by ourselves. How about you go ahead to the breakfast room?"

"What? No!" Galinda protested and, in solidarity, took Elphaba's hand.

Covering her friend's pale one with her own, green hand, Elphaba pulled her slightly closer.

"Please go and do as Fiyero said," she told her gently, offering a small, reassuring smile. In a whisper she added, "I'll meet you after. By the fountain."

Galinda nodded, yet could not refrain from pouting.

"Of course," came her dejected response.

One of the siblings opened the door for her and closed and locked it once she was outside. She didn't pay much attention to who it was, for all she could think about was that, yet again, it was her fault that Elphaba was being scolded. She was already about to take her first step down the stairs, when she heard yelling and stilled.

"You know, I really wouldn't have expected that from you. I always thought that you were the sensible one out of the two of us."

"Don't you dare give me the same sermons father already dished me out!"

Galinda didn't want to eavesdrop. She really didn't. When the voices went quiet again, however, she suddenly found that she was miraculously standing right in front of the door, her palms and forehead lightly pressed against the old wood.

"Why, Elphaba?" she heard Fiyero shout then. "Seriously! Tell me why you are acting up like this? You're behaving like-"

His harsh words were interrupted by even harsher words in Vinkun, which Glinda couldn't understand, of course. The blonde's cheeks flushed. By her own admittance, Elphaba did not speak this language very well. She must have suspected that Galinda would be listening and had changed to her native tongue to make sure she could not overhear what was being said.

A little ashamed of herself, Galinda turned, casting one last glance at the door. She could hear Fiyero yelling some more, also using Vinkun now. Whatever it was that was being said, it surely wasn't words of reconciliation. Heaving a deep sigh, she took the first step, then the next, and after another hundred or so, she had already reached the very bottom of the winding staircase.

Arriving in the breakfast room, Galinda was surprised to find a large party gathered around the table. Never before had she seen Queen Baxiana taking her breakfast in the presence of the other inhabitants of the castle. And even more startling: she had not even been aware that the other lords at the table were currently residing at Kiamo Ko. Hesitantly, she took a step forward and greeted the Queen and the noblemen before she homed in on the empty chair next to the one person in the room – beside the Queen - she was most familiar with.

"Good morning," she said quietly, yet politely.

"Oh, Galinda!" the old Margreave of Tenmeadows replied cheerfully. "What a wonderful surprise that you are still here. I am glad to once more have the honour to enjoy your pleasant company."

The blonde smiled and took her seat as a servant poured her tea.

She and the Margreave exchanged a few pleasantries, until a general unrest seemed to have suddenly gripped the party. The old man excused himself with a promise to talk more later and the lords began to file out of the room, leaving only Galinda, the Queen and a young, fair-haired gentleman behind.

"I hear you enjoyed the carnival, Lady Galinda?" the man broke the silence eventually and Galinda's head flicked up, pure horror written all over her pale face. For a brief moment, her eyes darted towards the Queen, who seemed to be snickering into her teacup, evidently amused.

"Do not fear," the man she now remembered was the old Margreave's grandson, chuckled. "Oz knows it can be quite dull here at times. And I'm sure our gracious hosts are very understanding. Only, it would have been advisable to take along a more suitable chaperone."

The blonde nodded and blushed a little, feigning bashfulness well.

"And therefore, I would like to extend my hospitality," the young Margreave continued.

Galinda nearly dropped her spoon into the tea.

"Pardon me?"

"Well, to be honest, I had originally hoped to invite the Prince for a brief stay at my humble summer home at Caprice in the Pines," he explained lightly. "But apparently, he is too involved with this very important congress the King is holding. But I appreciate the silver lining here. Undoubtedly, you will prove to be much more charming company than my old sandbox friend."

Confused and a tad uncomfortable, Galinda shifted in her seat.

"Thank you, My Lord Tenmeadows. However, I'm not sure if your proposal is entirely appropriate."

The blond man was by no means holding back his disappointment and dramatically hung his head.

"I see."

"But Lady Galinda," the Queen interjected, "I for my part think this is a lovely idea! Young people should enjoy themselves. Do not look so shocked. Avaric would make a fabulous chaperone. I would trust him with my own child if I were in that position."

Galinda scowled, at the same time praying that no one would notice. Surely, Elphaba would not be allowed to accept Lord Tenmeadows' invitation – in the somewhat unlikely case that he actually were to ask.

"It is decided then," Queen Baxiana smiled. "I will write to your uncle and assure him of your safety. You need not worry. All you need to do is ring your maid and make her pack a small valise of necessities."

More defeated then thrilled, Galinda nodded her agreement.

Perhaps, she realised, the Queen was eager to rid herself of her troublemaking guest for a little while. After her and Elphaba's night in the forest, she could hardly blame her.

Still upset, but also understanding, she left the breakfast room and headed for the gardens. She needed to tell Elphaba that she would be gone for who knows how long and she secretly hoped that the Princess would be at least half as vexed as she was.

She waited at the fountain as per their agreement, sitting down on the marble edge. It was a little unfortunate that they had not decided a particular time, for now she had no idea when Elphaba would join her. She began playing with the cool water, drawing circles and plopping tiny stones into the pool. A bee landed on a leaf, soon upturned by one of the waves she had created and she hurried to rescue it, sitting it down on a nearby rose.

An hour passed and Galinda grew more and more irritated. Appointed time or no, Elphaba should definitely have made an appearance by now. With a huff and a frustrated splash, she rose to her feet. On her way back to the castle, a maid reached her and told her that it was almost time to depart. The young woman drew a sharp breath and nodded stiffly, stalking towards the ancient stone building.

Back in her room, she directed her handmaiden as to what to pack. At the same time, she wrote a letter to the Duke, advising him not to tell Morrible about her short trip to the Margreave's vacation home. She changed into her travel dress and looked into the mirror for one last quick check. Sighing, she tightened the ribbon of her bonnet under her chin. Hopefully, this would not keep her away from Kiamo Ko for all too long.

For reasons maybe not entirely justifiable, she had a slight dislike for the sandy blond lad. His tongue was too quick and too twisted for her taste – much like Elphaba's at times, but in a way only impetuous, young men could master. Despite all this, she had to regretfully admit that, on the whole, he was a fairly well-bred gentleman.

They travelled to the Gillikin border by carriage, then changed to the train at the newly built Western Station, which saved them several days. All up, it took them only two and a half days to reach Lake Chorge, where Avaric's (anything but humble) summer residency was located. It was late in the evening when the pair arrived at their destination, yet almost all of the windows were still brightly illuminated.

A butler greeted them as they disembarked the carriage that had picked them up from the local station.

"The ladies already arrived earlier this morning," he informed the young Margreave. "They chose their rooms and made themselves at home as usual."

"Excellent," Avaric beamed and offered Galinda his arm. "Shall we?"

As soon as they set foot into the mansion, servants came flying towards them, taking off their capes, carrying away their hats and gloves and polishing the dirt off their shoes.

"This way, please," the butler said with his open hand motioning in the direction of the largest parlour of the house.

Already from the anteroom, Galinda could hear shrill laughter and music. The butler announced their arrival and two loud squeals could be heard just one clock-tick before two women threw themselves at Avaric. Galinda stepped back and watched the scene in bewilderment. This was no way for young ladies of any status to bear themselves!

From the other side of the room, she registered a small gasp. The redhead that had been sitting quietly and unnoticed at the piano by the far window, quickly jumped to her feet and curtsied.

"Your Highnesses!"

The other three immediately disentangled themselves from each other and whirled around to look at her. Avaric merely kept staring at her in surprise and confusion, while the blonde and the brunette to each of his sides clasped their hands over their mouths before curtseying so low that the tips of their noses nearly touched the floor.

Galinda did a double take and, with horror, realised she remembered their faces. She could not quite recall heir names, but she knew that, at some point, they had stayed at her childhood home in Pertha Hills as her playmates. And now they had recognised her and given away her identity. Oh bother!

Struggling to keep a straight face, she took a moment to collect herself before addressing the three young women.

"Please… arise."

"Thank you, Your Highness," the short blonde said and once more inclined her head. "Pfannee of Pfann Hall at your service."

"Shenshen of the Minkos Clan at your service," echoed the brunette, followed by the redhead.

"Milla of Far Applerue duly at your royal service."

The two other ladies cast their overzealous peer a sharp look for outdoing them.

Still none the wiser, Avaric crossed his arms to cover up his befuddlement, cocked his head and cleared his throat.

Galinda began chewing on the insides of her cheek and averted her gaze, while the other three turned to look at the young Margreave.

"Anyone care bringing me into the loop?"

Shenshen stared at him, scandalised, Pfannee's eyes darted between him and the brunette. Milla crossed the room and whispered something in his ear and he blanched.

"I think I'd like to freshen up," Galinda then said, only briefly making eye contact with her host.

"Yes, of course."

Avaric snapped his fingers, calling for the butler. Although he might have appeared calm and collected to the casual observer, all four of the ladies in the room were quite aware that he, for maybe the first time in his life, was rather disconcerted.

Galinda bid everyone a good night, declining supper when it was offered, and followed the butler to her room. As soon as the door had been closed behind her, excited chatter erupted and the blonde heaved a resigned sigh.

The following morning, Avaric had already reverted to his self-important, overconfident, presumptuous self. As Glinda, guided by one of the maids, arrived at the dining room, he rose from his seat and inclined his head. When he looked back up, the widest grin was plastered on his overly handsome face.

"Your Royal Highness."

His pearly white, ridiculously perfect teeth somehow annoyed Glinda to no end.

"Please forgive my blindness. I certainly should have recognised that such indescribable beauty and grace could not possibly be inherent in a lady of birth any lower than the future Ozma's."

"Queen," Glinda corrected him curtly. "The title of Ozma is set to be abolished upon my coronation."

A frown momentarily furrowed the young Margreave's brow, but it was gone again in a flash.

"Well, at any rate -" he clapped and rubbed his hands "- I was wondering, how I could make your stay as enjoyable as possible. And, as I sat by the fireplace last night, savouring my brandy, I remembered your little excursion to the carnival."

Glinda's eyes narrowed slightly, but Avaric's grin only widened - a feat the Princess would have thought impossible. Without a doubt, the corners of his mouth must tear if he were to attempt to pull his lips apart any further.

"This brave act of curiosity made me think, and I believe, what you need, Your Highness, is an escape from this golden cage you are living in."

While she made sure to maintain an impassive impression, she could not deny that Avaric's words struck a chord with her. With much disdain, she noticed the desire they were igniting within her, and despite herself, she carefully listened to Avaric's proposal.

"I want to show you a small slice of the real world. If you let me, that is.

"Nothing too wild or daring," he hastened to add when he recognised her reluctance. "I merely wish for you to have a little fun before you must return to your admirable, yet dreary life as role model for the entirety of Oz."

Glinda took the only empty seat, which happened to be in between Pfannee and Shenshen. The tiny blonde plopped a pancake on her plate, the brunette added some exotic fruits on top. From the other side of the table, Milla strained to pour tea in her cup without spilling.

"My Ladies, I do employ servants here," Avaric chuckled.

He was ignored, and the three women continued to fuss over their future queen.

"So, Lord Tenmeadows," Glinda finally continued their conversation after satisfying her appetite and thirst sufficiently, "what sort of 'not so wild or daring' adventures do you have in mind?"

Avaric immediately put aside his knife and fork and handed Glinda the newspaper from the side table to his right.

The headline proclaimed in capital letters the 'Most Thrilling Race of the Century', due to take place this very day in Shiz. Underneath the short article, the Princess recognised the portraits of Gillikin's two most praised stallions – and she would know, for one of the animals was her own, although she had never had an opportunity to see him in action. Madame Morrible had kept her mostly isolated and protected from the outside world, so despite her love for everything equestrian - which the governess had also sought to inhibit as she deemed the sport too hazardous - she had never been to a racecourse. The prospect of getting a chance to see her own horse win the race was rather tempting. Besides, she could barely imagine any risk in such an outing, safe for the possibility of being discovered, which was literally ubiquitous anyway, as it would seem.

Unwilling to give Avaric this satisfaction, however, she shrugged her shoulders and pushed the newspaper aside.

"I'm afraid I am not outfitted accordingly. All I have is my travel dress and two other simple gowns."

"That shall be no hindrance for your enjoyment," Avaric smirked. "It would be my pleasure to invite you, as well as our mutual friends here to a little shopping spree in Shiz."

The other three women perked up, their eyes sparkling in delight. Glinda merely nodded faintly, feeling just as elated as she felt defeated.

By train, Shiz appeared to be no more than a stone's throw away. Upon their arrival, Avaric organised them hotel rooms where they left their bags, and as soon as the girls had changed into dresses with slightly less laces, clasps and layers, the shopping tour began.

Already in the first boutique they entered, Pfannee found a bright red outfit she liked. Shenshen and Milla assured her that it fit like wax, but Glinda wasn't quite as sure. It seemed a little, well, long, for the Munchkinlander. In the end, Avaric convinced her that the midnight-blue, more expensive, dress in the shop window would complement her hair colour much better and Pfannee took it without even trying it on.

About an hour later, the five of them sat in a small, posh café, sipping fine Frottican chocolate and strong Glikkun coffee. Milla and Shenshen had found themselves a couple of extravagant, wide rimmed feather hats and were jealously guarding their bandboxes, while wondering whether they would be able to actually find matching dresses. Glinda had warned them about putting the cart before the horse, but as much as the girls adored their future queen, her advice had fallen on deaf ears as the temptation of the flamboyant head coverings had been too great to withstand.

"You know what has been bugging me since yesterday?" Avaric said, leaning over the table and uncomfortably close for Glinda. "Why the secretiveness? Why that peculiar, little Galinda Upland act?"

The Princess tossed her golden curls over her shoulder, placed her elbows on the table and rested her chin on her folded hands.

"Wouldn't you like to know," she purred, a mysterious smile playing around her rosy lips.

Then she grew serious and fixed the fair-haired man with a surprisingly intimidating stare – something she had learnt from watching Elphaba.

"It is of upmost importance that no word of this ever - I repeat: ever – reaches anyone who is not currently sitting at this table."

Shenshen, Pfannee and Milla briefly looked up and nodded; Avaric inclined his head, thoughtful. Then his face lit up.

"Your Highness, if you were to ask for my opinion – which, of course, I know you will not – my old pal Fiyero would make a grand husband and king, no doubt. But if the crown needs financial support of any kind… Well, let me just say that the Tenmeadows' estate is not to be scoffed at."

Glinda scoffed nonetheless before sending the audacious, young lord a warning glare, which shut him up for a little while. The Princess smiled serenely and quietly enjoyed her small victory.

They were slowly, but surely running out of time, and so they left the café soon after, hoping to find at least three more dresses and two more hats, and perhaps a new suit for Avaric if there was anything at all in Shiz that was good enough for the dashing, deep-pocket swank.

Their quest turned out to be successful, and when they returned to the hotel, their purchases were already waiting for them, delivered by enthusiastic shop employees so that the ladies did not have to carry the huge bags themselves.

Glinda's outfit was not what the blonde would describe as love at first sight. The crimson, one-sleeved mini dress was a little too revealing for her taste and status, but when Avaric had pointed out that this would only help to conceal her true identity, she had grudgingly agreed.

The honourable task of helping the Princess dress had fallen to Shenshen. The brunette also assisted with her makeup and hair, since Glinda hardly knew what kind of look would be appropriate for such an event.

When she finally stood in front of the mirror to inspect Shenshen's work, her eyes widened and she blushed. The young lady starring back at her in the mirror almost looked like one of those indelicate, unsophisticated nouveaux riches girls she sometimes saw in the Emerald City. The somewhat risqué couture of the aspiring business class without as much as a drop of noble blood flowing through their veins was unbecoming for a lady of royal heritage - Morrible had told her so at several occasions and she tended to agree. Yet in her temporary role as Galinda Upland, she could allow herself a little freedom as far as fashion was concerned, and she had to admit that she looked absolutely stunning in her costume, especially once Shenshen had placed the extravagant, black hat on the top of her head.

They met Avaric in the lobby at half past five, which left them thirty minutes to reach the racecourse. Consequently, the carriage ride through the streets of Shiz turned into a small race in itself, with Avaric happily cheering and hollering at the driver as they dashed past pedestrians and barely made most of the corners.

When they reached the racecourse, Galinda was surprised at the huge crowd. No wonder that Morrible had always been opposed to visiting such a busy place, teeming with all sorts of simple folk, as well as a few rather unsavoury characters. This wasn't merely about the race, this was an entire faire, complete with rides, music, food and beer stalls. One man who stumbled into her smelt like a whole brewery.

"Get off her," Avaric growled in disgust, shoving the drunkard aside and wrapping his arm protectively around Glinda's shoulder. She shrugged it off, despite feeling a little uncomfortable among the roughcast mob.

An announcement boomed through the speakers; the race was just about to begin. Avaric pushed through the crowd, leading them strait towards his private box. He rang a bell and scribbled something on a piece of paper, which he handed, along with a bundle of notes, to the attendant who arrived soon after. Then he plunged himself down on his chair, and told the ladies to take their seats as well, offering Glinda the one beside him. The blonde hesitated, but complied in the end. She was the young Margreave's guest and there was no need to be rude.

Another announcement proclaimed the arrival of the four-legged athletes and their bipedal partners. Excited, the Princess lifted the veil attached to her hat, got off her seat and leaned over the handrail to see the horses, led by their jockeys, enter the arena. Her heart made a little jump when number seventeen made his entrance. The dapple-grey, known under the name 'Shadow Fox' was the last colt sired by her father's most prized stallion 'Gillikin Mauve' – the one that had maimed her ear. Mauve was dead by now and Fox one of the most successful racehorses in all of Oz.

Then the crowd began to cheer even louder than they had for Fox and Glinda turned her head to see the last competitor, the number three, entering the presentation ring. He was Fox's strongest rival and at least a full hand taller than him. Going by the applause and whistling, most people seemed to have bet on him.

As soon as the proud steeds had finished their first round, another horse entered and fell into line with the procession: a stunted, wee thing, hardly ten hands high, Glinda guessed. It was the jester pony.

No one could imagine a race without a jester pony. Its task was to lighten the serious mood such a race could create and amuse the people. Each year, the hosts chose the most funnily malformed animal they could find. While some breeders would rather shoot themselves than suffer the shame of having their horses presented in this way, others, especially poor farmers, welcomed the financial shot in the arm. These misshapen creatures often achieved a fairly high price if the owners were skilled enough at haggling. A couple of years ago, the Princess had heard of a pony that changed colour every second clock-tick - a particularly difficult act to follow.

This time, the jester was a stub legged, fat Glikkun Mountain Cob. Its spotted coat was shaggy and its mane was so long the black and white strands posed a constant tripping hazard. Glinda wondered whether the animal was specially trained to misbehave, or not trained at all. Either way, its little antics caused the spectators to nearly die of laughter. The presentation was almost over, when the jester decided that he had had enough and lay down in the middle of the arena, rolling in the sand and scratching its back while his handler had no choice but to wait for him to decide to move along.

Chuckling to herself, Glinda returned to her seat, casting a brief glance in Pfannee, Shenshen and Milla's direction. They seemed incredibly bored, playing with their fans, or - in Pfannee's case - parasol.

"They're only here for the dress-up and the Champaign," Avaric explained, rolling his eyes.

Glinda nodded and reached for the lorgnette on the small side table. The horses were now lining up at the start. A couple of tall youths were holding onto their bridles, but had trouble handling the impatient animals. One of the stallions neighed loudly, then bucked and reared. The others around him were prancing and tiptoeing nervously. A man holding a megaphone came into view and positioned himself right next to the start line. He gave another man on the opposite side of the track a nod, which was replied with a thumb up.

"My ladies and gentlemen," he then announced, "the race is about to start."

He produced a pistol from the inside of his vest and held it up high. He bellowed words that could not be understood from the seats, but obviously spurred on the horses. Then the eagerly awaited starting signal echoed through the arena and the competing teams were on their way. A few ladies gasped and held their breath, when they saw one of the young lads that had held back the animals fall to the ground, but the majority of spectators only paid attention to the horses thundering along the racetrack and already nearing the first hurdle. Glinda watched the boy picking himself up from the sandy floor and released a small breath of relief.

When her eyes darted back to the small leading group of four stallions, among them her own, they had already taken the first jump and were continuing chasing along the eight-shaped track. Twelve more obstacles and about two miles still lay before them.

Throughout most of the race, the general picture did not change much. Number three and seventeen, as well as six and ten remained in the front while the others followed not very close behind. One horse that was lagging behind considerably anyway, took a sharp turn at the point where the racetracks crossed and chose the wrong direction. In accordance with the rules, the jockey and his mount were disqualified. Helpers rushed to aid stop the horse and escorted the pair out of the arena.

About a quarter of a mile before the goal, the white horse at the far back with the number four, miraculously caught up with the leading group. An excited murmur went through the crowd and a number of spectators began to cheer the underdog on. The next hedge, however, was the stallion's undoing. He even was leading the field, when he jumped off too early and caught his hind legs on the obstacle. The horse stumbled and fell head on, the rider rolled across the track like tumbleweed and was lucky when Shadow Fox's jump was so mighty that he landed several feet after the hedge and therefore didn't trample over him.

Rather upset, Glinda put her binoculars aside and jumped up. Pfannee and Shenshen were also on their feet, juddering excitedly. Only, they hardly seemed concerned with neither horse, nor rider. They probably thought that the race had just turned interesting - in a scandalous kind of way. Milla, on the other hand, was covering her eyes with her hands.

Suddenly, the jester pony galloped criss-cross through the arena, chased by his handler. It almost collided with one of the competing horses. Glinda was fairly sure that it had not escaped by chance. While most people's attention was now either on the group of horses close to the finish line, or on the pony on the lam, someone helped the fallen rider up and others dragged the white stallion out of sight.

Glinda was one of the few who watched, and when loud cheering erupted all around her, she felt disorientated for a short moment.

"Yes! Yes!" Avaric rejoiced, grabbing the Princess and pressing a hard kiss on her cheek.

"Lord Tenmeadows!" the blonde exclaimed and struck him so hard her hand hurt despite the glove she wore.

But he only laughed and shouted out to the attendant, ordering a bottle of Champaign.

"He won! Your horse bloody won! And he made me half a million guilders richer!"

Galinda stared at him in bafflement and disbelief. Why would someone like Avaric even care about the money?

"It's the thrill of the game," the young Margreave answered unasked - apparently, the question was written all over the Princess' pretty face.

Almost disgusted, she slowly shook her head and once more directed her eyes at the spot where the horse had stumbled, wondering what had become of it.

"My Lady," Avaric said, offering his arm.

Glinda fleetingly peered at him before turning to Milla.

"I'm sure Lord Avaric will be quite content with Lady Shenshen and Lady Pfannee hanging off his arms. Would you mind walking with me, Lady Milla?"

The young woman, who had looked miserable ever since the accident had occurred, managed a smile and stood.

"Of course."

Linking their arms, Glinda left Avaric's private box, smirking to herself as she heard a frustrated grunt from behind.

The small group went to the bookie's to pick up Avaric's winnings. Once he had received the large package of notes, he complained that he could not carry this much and decided to visit the associated gambling house to divest some of it.

The Princess had agreed to come along. Not only was she trying to avoid being called out for being a wet blanket; she was also at least mildly curious. Her curiosity dissipated almost as soon as they set foot into the dubious establishment, but she was still hoping to hold up for the others' sake.

Three poker games and six glasses of brandy later, Avaric was in high spirits and Shenshen and Pfannee were giggling ridiculously while still nursing their first cup of wine. Milla had had a few more drinks than her friends, but seemed to hold her liqueur comparably well. Still fairly quiet, she stood beside Glinda while they watched the other three losing yet another couple of thousand guilders.

A gentleman walked up to them and offered the young women cocktails, which they gratefully declined.

"I have never seen a chap so happy to lose so much money," the tall man said shaking his head in amusement.

"He won half a million at the racecourse earlier today," Milla supplied.

The stranger looked astounded.

"You two fair ladies are with him?"

Nodding, the redhead confirmed.

For a couple of clock-ticks, the man didn't say anything, but silently watched Avaric losing even more.

"Well, if you ladies need someone to take you home -"

The way Avaric was behaving, Glinda was almost tempted.

"No thank you, good Sir," she told him. "I'm afraid we are stuck with our host. But perhaps it is time we left."

"That is most regretful," the gentleman replied and watched them as they walked off.

When the Princess stopped Avaric from placing another bet and tried to coax him to leave, he pouted and groused like a naughty child. Eventually, however, he surrendered.

"I know a great bar around here," he let them know on their way out.

Glinda glowered at him, but in his inebriated state Avaric did not notice.

"It's right around the corner there," he almost slurred and pointed his finger at a red lit house.

"I think I have seen quite enough of the 'real world' today," Glinda hissed through gritted teeth.

This time, it was Shenshen and Pfannee who started to complain, but one glare from the Princess and they suddenly decided that they were indeed rather tired.

Back at the Young Margreave's summerhouse at Caprice in the Pines, Glinda lay in her bed, exhausted from the long day and the many impressions she had gained. Her little adventure had not quite turned out the way she had expected or hoped, yet she could not deny that she had learnt a few valuable lessons. Now all she wanted, was to close her eyes and find some restful sleep.

It began to rain and a soft groan escaped the blonde's lips. Ever since her childhood - that fateful, dark night her parents had died, to be precise - she had had trouble sleeping when the pitter-patter of the big, fat drops on the window glass disrupted the silence in her room. Apprehensively and angry at the clouds that had brought the bad weather, she stared at the huge window, watching the dark rivers slowly trickling downwards.

With a huff, she dragged herself out of her bed, the soft blanket wrapped around her shoulders for comfort, and noisily closed the curtains. Back in bed, she buried her face in the huge pillow. She wished she could really be Galinda Upland of the Upper Uplands. Galinda might have lost her family home in a fire, but her mother and father were both still with her. Wasn't that by far better than a massive, empty, green palace, void of the people she had once loved? And even at times when Galinda Upland was separated from her parents, she still had at least one friend. A true friend, not like those ninnies she had spent the day with and who only adored her for being the Princess of Oz. She couldn't wait to go back to the Vinkus. She wanted the see Elphaba. After all, the two girls would have plenty to discuss.

The following morning, she appeared in the dining room readily dressed in her travel gown, insisting they leave for Kiamo Ko immediately.

AN:

As you might have noticed, this update is a day early. I'm shifting my updates from Tuesday to Monday (NZST), because I tend to get anxious whenever I update (^_^;)
I update and then I'm sitting there like all day, nervously waiting for the first response, hoping that it's kinda positive. Thing is: On Monday I got Uni to distract me, on Tuesday I don't lol

Yeah, I know, I'm pathetic xD

Bye, see you next week! :3