The palace was transformed into a scene straight out of a theatre production. Any direction you turned was filled with thousands of masked faces, feathered costumes and gowns, laughter and entertainers. Music was filtering through the halls as performers juggled and danced for the applause of small gatherings amid the crowd.

Every member of the royal guard was dressed in the same style of uniform costume, golden jackets and slacks, stern looking golden masks blocking their faces from view completely; revealing only the eyes beneath which were surrounded by thick black paint. If one had described it to him without seeing it he would have thought the finished product would look foolish – in actuality it was anything but. The men looked like sentinels standing every few feet along the edge of the halls, statues until any hint of trouble, muscles tensed and ready to spring into action at a moment's notice.

Wyatt had grudgingly allowed Glitch to help him with finding a mask. He refused the attempts made to get him to wear a gaudy costume, instead electing simple black clothing – the mask was as 'in costume' as he intended to be. Even then he had chosen one that was merely held to his face if he chose to use it. He'd be damned if he was strapping one of the ridiculous things to his head. It wasn't Glitch's first choice but the absence of a single feather or sequin paired with the large eye holes made it Wyatt's match – he had no intention of obstructing his view in case there was trouble that evening. The horns and devilish appearance of the piece were simple enough to meet the requirements.

DG had been whisked away a few hours earlier, much to his chagrin, to be made up for the evening in areas of the palace he dared not follow to keep a watchful eye for danger. Dressing areas were one place you had to content yourself with surrounding in guards (so thick they had to stand shoulder to shoulder) and trusting that the interior of the room would remain safe after the initial sweeps.

Wyatt took a drink from a passing tray, downing it and handing the empty glass back to the thoroughly impressed waiter before turning to survey the crowd. He sighed in boredom thinking how much more entertaining it would be to clean his gun at that moment. It was at his hip (you didn't really think he'd forego a firearm, did you?) and he ran his hand over it beneath his overcoat, checking that it was clear in its holster out of habit. The room suddenly grew quiet, so quiet you could have heard a pin drop, and he followed the gaze of every other person to the central stairwell.

He couldn't recall a single time in his life where he'd been rendered so completely dumbstruck.

Awestricken, I mean we're talking the whole shebang here; he'd nearly dropped his mask as his hand fell to his side, his eyes were unblinking, face was flushing, palms were sweating, heart was pounding in his chest. There was even a tightening in the pit of his stomach that was so severe it was almost painful. He was certain that the look on his face could easily be mistaken for agony – which was good since he couldn't get himself to change the expression or move a muscle. If caught he could always lie and say he had a bad case of heartburn or something…

But thankfully having to come up with an excuse would be unlikely, not a single eye was on him in that moment.

She descended the stairs like a winged creature found only in the deepest forests of the most ancient realms, a being made of love and light fluttering amid the flowers and singing enchantment to the trees.

Her gown outstretched behind her, its many tissue-thin layers flowing over the stairs like water. The amount of detail that had gone into the creation of this dress and its wings was only rivaled in perfection by the sight of the woman (yes, woman) who wore it. Her porcelain skin glittered in the light as if covered in pixie dust, interrupted only by the long, dark locks of hair that cascaded over her shoulders. He found himself thankful that she was not wearing a mask; the thought of anything obstructing her glowing face was contemptible.

She looked…

She was just so incredibly…

It was only with great effort that he managed to swallow hard and take a deep breath. Something inside of him warned that amid the thousands of other faces she was going to see him, he needed to move, blink, something…but he couldn't. Sure enough, somehow, someway, blue eyes met blue eyes and his head swam. DG smiled shyly at him, that tightlipped secret smile before turning her attention to the crowd that was staring up at her with so much adoration, the change in expression only served to make her even more alluring, if that was at all possible.

She reached the base of the stairs and stood beside her mother and father, blushing at the Queen's introduction of her to the people of the OZ and thunderous applause that followed. His breath caught in his throat as she smiled out at the crowd and waived.

He was silently thankful that they weren't forcing her to make a speech, he would have been terribly nervous for her and besides, who wants to get stuck doing something so nerve-wracking on their birthday?

He stood enthralled by her presence, the rest of the room a blur to his perception. He could hear the Queen speaking but paid no mind to her words. Where had his tagalong friend from the Eclipse disappeared to, he wondered? No more were the clumsy movements and self-conscious tugging at her clothing. No more were the goofy grins and unsure movements.

The music began and the Queen and Ahamo each kissed DG's cheeks, wishing her a happy birthday and telling her to go enjoy herself.

DG very promptly made her exit into the crowd…and a b-line for Wyatt.

His mouth was suddenly dry as he watched her cutting around well-wishers making her way toward him. What the hell was he going to say? What do you say to…this?

He was relieved when she took away the initial pressure by motioning for him to lean down closer the instant she was before him, standing on tiptoes so he could hear her over the crowd as she shared privately, "I can't believe I didn't trip!"

Wyatt laughed; initially ready to hold it back until he realized the sound was blended away into a crowd of thousands of smiling, laughing faces on what was supposed to be a joyous occasion. "You did great, darling…" Darling- wait, what? "And I have to say..." his pulse quickened – Oh Lord, did he have to say? "That you look absolutely radiant. With the secret out about your beauty I'll need to have a second gun handy to keep the swarm of suitors at bay."

DG smiled up at him, her eyes searching his and loving the heat she found in them as she thought; there are other ways you could stop the suitors from hounding me…

"You know, Princess…" He began, looking down at the mask in his hands, his brows drawn together as he realized he had no clue what he was about to say.

"Yes, Wyatt?" DG asked hopefully, but before she could hear the end of his sentence a pompous windbag had stepped up beside her. She willed the wings on her back to spring to life in that second and swat him in the head before Wyatt noticed his presence, but no such luck. Wyatt's head came up with a look of something akin to stifled rage straining his features.

"My Princess, if beauty were time you would be eternity…" The cretin said in what she presumed he thought was a charming voice as he bent to kiss her hand. She glared down at the top of his head and bit her bottom lip to keep her honest reaction from bubbling from her lips, so busy restraining herself that she didn't notice Wyatt's furious arched brow. As the imbecilic ambassador stood upright once more both DG and Wyatt allowed their expressions to return to feigned non-hatred. "Would you do me the great honor of dancing with me?" He asked and DG could have sworn she heard Wyatt's teeth grinding together.

This wasn't happening. She'd come this far, spent the entire week, morning and afternoon preparing for this moment with her Tin Man and she'd be damned if Duke Dimwit of Tart-land was going to spoil it for her.

She put on her best smile of feigned flattery and managed, "I would be delighted to…if not for Mr. Cain already asking just a moment before you arrived…but the night is young, I'm sure there will be time enough later."

Wyatt chewed the inside of his cheek watching the prissy boy's face contort painful at the blow of such rejection. "Oh…very well then…it was a pleasure to speak with you, your highness." He said, his eyes darting to Wyatt enviously before bowing and taking his leave.

Once out of earshot Wyatt couldn't help the smile that came to his lips. "I wonder how many times I'll have asked 'just a moment before they arrived' this evening."

DG grinned up at him and put her hand on his shoulder, the contact sending electricity through her entire body. "You just stay close, I get the feeling you will be 'Protecting' me from all manner of twits and trolls before the night is through."

She was warm and fuzzy all over as he took her other hand in his, placing his free hand on her waist as he led them in a formal dance. It wasn't the necking she was dying for, but the small distance between them allowed for a wondrous addition to the scent of him and the feeling of his shoulder beneath her fingertips. He was staring down into her eyes, a million thoughts swirling in his gaze and a smile curving the corners of his mouth. Her eyes darted to his lips, thoughts of her own forming with blaring intensity…but the arched brow and smirk Wyatt gave before looking away and clearing his throat purposefully made her laugh as her cheeks heated in embarrassment. Can you say 'busted'?

Wyatt, however, was currently convincing himself that it was the drinks he'd had playing tricks on him because there was no way he'd just seen what he thought he saw. Secret friends, right? They were Protector and Charge, sharing a common bond of solitude and a deep caring for one another…but not that kind of caring...

Right??

He tried to ignore the stirring in his gut that told him he was having a case of self-denial. At the most he was having a hard time adjusting to this new, more mature and devastatingly attractive version of his friend. It wasn't so strange – hell it had been forever since he'd been with a woman so things were bound to get confusing. He'd just have to work through it somehow; self control was practically his middle name. And besides – before long she'd be wed to one of the dozens of noblemen seeking her hand, probably one in the room with them at that very moment. His stomach tensed as his mind continued this train of thought. She'd probably move away to another kingdom and settle into the role of royalty, her and her future children would be in no shortage of guards so it was only to be expected that he would no longer need to watch over her…

Without realizing it he was holding her hand a little tighter, the hand on her waist was instinctively pulling her a step closer in response to the thought of her leaving.

Of all things to comfort his worries in that moment the memory of Glitch's words came to him: "when they say 'eternal' and 'irrevocably' in magic they generally mean it."

So perhaps their paths wouldn't be dividing so soon after all…he thought hopefully.

DG danced in silence watching Wyatt's mind race behind his averted eyes, wondering at the way his hand had closed over hers so protectively but not speaking a word about it. In her mind she prayed that it was OZ custom to dance through (at the very least) five songs before splitting up, every time the music of the current melody slowed she felt a surge of panic wash over her that it was ending so soon. With a little luck it happened to be an extraordinarily long tune. She'd thought to come up with some witty conversation, but the instant those steely blues wandered back down to her face she threw all thoughts of words right out the window. Slowly her hand was working its way to the back of his neck of its own accord and as her fingers brushed over the leather throng of the pendant she melted under his warm smile.

It wasn't the plan…but she wanted release now. The real idea was to get those wheels inside his head in motion; the actual cozying up to her Tin Man wasn't to start until they were somewhere private - likely not until their next walk. That was easier said than done when staring up into his smiling face. Maybe they could dance just a little closer…she pleaded in her mind. The way those blue eyes were staring into her own so deeply made the desire to draw him to her and kiss him positively maddening. Maybe she could get away with resting her head on his shoulder…or kissing his cheek at the end of the dance…something…anything…

Wyatt forced himself to look away from her eyes again, chewing the inside of his cheek in that thoughtful habit and damning what he kept seeing in the subtle changes in her posture, the movements of her lips, the longing in those blue eyes.

Well shit. Alright, him having it on his mind in the background (very far back, mind you) was troubling enough…her thinking it too? And looking so damned attractive while doing so? It was a like a grenade without its pin had just been pressed between their palms, their joint restraint being the only thing preventing that lever from rising – all it would take is one of them relaxing their grip just a tiny bit…

The song had run its course, and as Ahamo stepped forward, asking DG for the next dance Wyatt wasn't sure if he was relieved or disappointed.

The night raced on with DG being swept away for dance after dance, Wyatt standing amid the crowd watching her in his trademark stoicism, not missing a single glance (and believe me, there were thousands of them) that she cast him over whoever's shoulder she was currently paired with.

Before long Glitch had taken the lead and he had to laugh, despite his wish to continue brooding, watching the two twirl around the floor together. Aside from her dance with him he hadn't seen DG look so comfortable and genuinely happy all night. Her laughter rang out through the crowd like contagious joy and he sighed with a smile set on his face watching her go.

"Would you care for a refill?" A voice asked quietly and he looked to his side to find a feline porcelain mask covering the face of someone with a head covered in blonde curls. Someone that was purposefully avoiding eye contact. He shook his head and smirked that she couldn't really think he wouldn't recognize her.

"Finally let my son up for air, did you?" He asked and the lips beneath the mask twitched in a knowing smile.

"No wine, then? Alright…" She said in feigned ignorance of what he was talking about and tried to make her exit.

Wyatt discretely caught her arm and she cursed under her breath. Damn having to work the floor! And damn his notice of every frigging detail! There had to be thirty blondes on staff – how the hell did he know it was her so quickly?

"No – but I will take a few answers." Wyatt said in a private tone and she turned back to face him, pausing and inclining her head to where DG was still dancing with Glitch.

"My, doesn't the Princess look exquisite tonight?" Alisha said with a grin before looking him in the eyes. "Alright, shoot." She said in a lower tone before sighing and shaking her head.

"For starters, I know you're up to something. Thing is I can't figure what possible motivations you could have for this whole Princess makeover thing you've got going on. So tell me, what would you stand to gain from DG looking so…'exquisite'?" Wyatt asked and arched a brow at the mischievous smile that instantly formed on her lips.

He knew that smile. He hated that smile. It was the 'I know something you don't know' smile. A wiseass remark was threatening to spill from those Jeb-corrupting lips and he braced for impact.

By some miracle the response, 'having my friend the Princess as my Mother-in-Law' was restrained from tumbling from her mouth. But oh, she could just imagine the first wonderful seconds of thoughtfulness that would pass over his face before shocked realization followed up immediately with fervent denial.

Instead she stared him in the eyes for a moment and finally managed past her smirk, "I think I'll answer that question with a question, Mr. Cain. Why, oh why, would it matter to you whether or not she looks more attractive?"

And like magic he'd released his hold on her elbow, staring at her like some sort of coiled cobra that was about to strike him with words he wasn't ready to own up to. His eyes flashed around them quickly, guiltily even, to gauge whether anyone around them was standing close enough to hear the question she'd just posed.

"Thought so." She said with an understanding smile. "Does this mean we're finished asking one another questions? I'll take your silence for a yes. Now if you'll excuse me, I know a certain someone out there I'd very much like to provide with a refill…" Alisha winked at him and laughed (not in a mocking or cruel manner, mind you – she was, after all, speaking to her potential Father-in-Law) before making her exit; Wyatt groaned and stared up at the ceiling. Leave it to his son to catch the most headstrong, scheming and outspoken girl available to him.

And what the hell? How was it that with those words she'd completely halted his questioning of her involvement in the changes he was witnessing in DG? He knew why, he just wasn't going to allow himself to face it. See if she said the words, or made him say the words, then it was out there, floating around over his head like a bird of prey. No, he needed to keep this thing buttoned down tight until he figured out how to squash it.

But thoughts of squashing anything would have to wait, within seconds DG had cut through the crowd and caught his hand, now laughing and smiling after her dance with Glitch and pulling him out onto the floor with her for another round.