Fiyero stared up at his ceiling as the first rays of the morning sun streamed into his room. He really didn't feel like getting up, but it was his weekly office day. Groaning, he decided to get up before someone came looking for him.

Dressed and hair combed into acceptability, he made his way down to his office, or, rather, it was his brother's office, but he was keeping it warm for Irji. He carefully avoided anyone who would have redirected him to breakfast with the family. He wasn't hungry, nor did he want to deal with people.

He opened the door, and was met with a large pile of paperwork and sighed. He knew his father had already taken some of it off his plate, and he got to work. The first item of business was a trade deal between the Vinkus and Quadling Country.

Growing up with a royal education meant that he learned lots of things about government, even though he was never meant to play a significant part in it. Eszno had mastered geography, Hannalyn mastered societal graces, and he mastered the economy. He knew what each providence's main exports were – apples and wines in the Vinkus, corn and oil in Munchkinland, cotton and wood in the Gillikin, and bricks and syrup in the Quadling Country – and it came in handy when drafting trade agreements. Knowing what everyone had and what everyone needed proved very beneficial.

The walls of Kiamo Ko Castle needed to be repaired, which meant they required clay bricks from the Quadling Country. They couldn't use their red clay bricks, but the Quadlings always charged extra for brown brick exports, especially since almost everyone refused the red bricks.

The Quadlings were behind on brown brick production, since they were using most of their manpower to make red bricks to fix the Red Brick Road, but wrote that they had some extra regular bricks they could sell.

Fiyero's jaw dropped at the price they were charging, and drafted an agreement for a reduced payment and apple spirits. He left the monetary amounts blank until he could review the wine production reports. Once he was done, he clipped the papers together and pushed them aside.

One down, at least a hundred more to go.

…

Fiyero threw the ball and watched as Hunfter barked and chased after it. They had just finished a long walk, but the dog still had lots of energy, which led to an impromptu game of fetch.

His time away from his family helped clear the air, and they were all back on cordial speaking terms again. Sarima hadn't apologized for her actions and was speaking kindly to him now, and he supposed that was the best he was gonna get.

He was glad things were somewhat back to normal. The last few weeks had been a trying time for him, but he was glad he apparently passed the test.

"Your Highness!"

Fiyero turned as a servant ran up to him, clicked his heels, and bowed. "Yes, Defek?"

"Their Grandnesses are summoning you to the throne room."

Fiyero bit back a sigh. As soon as he thought things were going well, this had to happen. What had he done now? "Thank you, Defek. I'm coming."

The servant bowed and hurried away. Fiyero hummed, threw the ball one final time, and began walking back. Hunfter followed him eagerly, wondering why their game had stopped.

When Fiyero got to the throne room, the guards bowed and opened the doors for him. This made Fiyero tense. He knew his grandparents were expecting him, but he still couldn't shake the eerie feeling that was almost choking him.

"Fiyero," Marriott smiled as Fiyero approached.

Fiyero regarded his grandparents. They were seated on their thrones, erect and radiating regality. This meant he was about to be told something he didn't want to hear.

"We have a surprise for you," Baxina smiled.

He fought an eyebrow arch. A surprise. Goody. He loved surprises. Especially surprises that involved being summoned.

"We recognize your feelings about marrying Sarima, and after thorough thought, we also believe that it might have mixed views."

So far, so good.

"That is why we've selected a different bride for you."

As the ball dropped, so did Fiyero's jaw. "I'm sorry?"

"We have formed an alliance with Munchkinland, and you will be marrying the Eminent Thropp's great-granddaughter," Marriott said.

Fiyero frowned. "But she's already married. I saw it in the papers."

"The Eminent Thropp has more than one great-granddaughter, Fiyero."

News from Munchkinland was a rarity, as was the Vinkus's concern with them, so Fiyero couldn't imagine why they would go from practically ignoring them to forming an alliance that required him to get married.

"There's no one in this entire country who wants to marry me? And since I didn't want to marry Sarima, you just picked a random girl for me?"

"We didn't pick a girl off the streets, Fiyero," Baxina frowned, exasperated.

"No. I don't want to get married."

"This isn't up for discussion. It's what must be done," the Chieftain sighed. "This is what happens when you don't make decisions quickly enough. Someone else makes it for you."

Fiyero felt his face heat up. "What agreement could possibly be more important than my feelings?"

Baxina looked at her husband, who nodded. "Munchkinland is giving us access to their corn oil reservoir. It's not a joint ownership, but it will make borrowing oil easier and lower the tax."

"So… you're making me get married to get some corn oil. Are we gonna give them apple wine?"

"Yero, this is a historic union between the West and East. Previous generations have tried and failed, and we're counting on you to succeed. It's your duty."

His mouth twitched. "No more just 'protecting our interests in the Vinkus'. We've extended to 'and beyond'."

"We need this agreement now, Fiyero, and you are the only one eligible for marriage with a Munchkin heir," Marilott frowned. "We haven't asked you to do much, but now we expect you to do your duty."

"Marilott," Baxina whispered, watching as her grandson's face fell, signaling that the Grand Chieftain had said the wrong thing.

He let out a puff of air, then softened. "She will arrive on September twelfth, and you will meet her at the Ritjana Feast."

"Do you know what she looks like, or her name?"

"None of that matters, Fiyero. The deal is done. You have six weeks to prepare yourself to meet your bride. I suggest you use the time wisely."

"You don't have to like it, Fiyero, but you must accept it," Baxina said, making it clear that, at that moment, she was a leader and not a grandmother.

His grandfather was dismissing him with his tone, so he obliged and bowed, not being able to get out fast enough. He ran towards the stairs, clutching the banister for dear life as he flew down.

Once he was far away enough, he muffled his scream with one hand and banged on the wall with the other. Once his initial anger dissipated, he paused and thought. According to his family, his only marriage options were his sister-in-law, or a random Munchkin girl. Well, perhaps she wasn't "random"; she was the great-granddaughter of the Eminent Thropp. She was titled, an heir in her royal family. The Thropp family line was as long as the Tigulaar family line, if not longer, and Fiyero knew (or at least hoped) that it meant she wasn't a beast or troll. He hoped this treaty wasn't an excuse for Munchkinland to finally get rid of one of their heirs for whatever reasons they had.

But he didn't like not knowing anything about her. Was she his age? What did she look like? What's her name? The fact that he had so many questions and no answers drove him crazy, but perhaps if she did some secret snooping, he wouldn't be crazy for the next six weeks.

If this was how he was going to have to officially prove his worth to everyone, then so be it.

Dinner was slowly breaking through the 'civil' barrier, and they were slowly getting back to behaving like a normal family. Everyone was involved in conversations, and everyone seemed happy.

"My family, I have an announcement," Marilott said, and everyone quieted down. "I'm pleased to announce that there will be a royal wedding this coming September."

"I told you I didn't want to marry the Lord Justice's nephew!" Hannalyn cried, looking at her mother.

"You're not getting married, dear. Fiyero is," Baxina said calmly.

Hannalyn slumped in relief. "Oh, thank Oz!"

"Fiyero is?" Sarima asked.

"Yes. He will marry one of the Eminent Thropp's great-granddaughters," Marilott nodded.

"Not the one that just got married," Fiyero said with a humorless chuckle. No one else laughed, which didn't help him work out his feelings on this.

"I can't believe we had to get a girl all the way from Munchkinland to marry Fiyero," Hannalyn chuckled, playfully nudging her brother. "I'm amazing that young ladies aren't swarming the doors for a catch like you."

Fiyero knew his sister was just trying to joke to make him laugh, but something wasn't sitting right with him about that comment. He knew he was probably being paranoid, and was still annoyed at this whole situation, but it was solidifying his thoughts about something possibly being wrong with the girl.

…

Weeks passed, and the end of August brought with it the Sebatsi Debutante Ball. Late that morning, Fiyero dressed in his traditional attire of a navy-blue grand boubou – a flowing, wide-sleeved robe – and white pants, and met his family outside the door. His grandparents, parents, sister, sister-in-law, and cousin were all waiting, all also dressed in traditional attire, and his arrival meant they could get on their way to Nether How.

"Is Fiyero's engagement going to stop those society ladies from flirting with him?" Hanna asked.

"I hope not," Fiyero smirked, ignoring his mother's glare.

"Fiyero's wedding will not be officially announced until September first, but that hasn't stopped the gossip mill. Most of the people there probably already know," Sarima said.

That was the only thing she's said about Fiyero's wedding since they found out at dinner. Fiyero shot her a fleeting glance, trying to read her thoughts.

It was no secret that Sarima used to flirt with Fiyero, before and during her marriage to Eszno, but everyone was convinced that she had loved the elder prince. The flirting was always harmless, and there were never any scandals or rumors of infidelity. And that made her thoughts on Fiyero's marriage even more unclear to him.

The carriage sped down the road and they reached the Grand Encampment by late afternoon. The Mother Iyoba greeted them as soon as they entered the gate, expertly expressing her humbleness and gratitude that they had graced them with their presence. She was the matriarch of the Yunamata Tribe, and the highest respected woman in the clan. She was viewed almost as a lesser royal, but her wisdom and loyalty earned her respect from the royal family.

"Welcome, Grandnesses," she bowed, her long, grey braids almost sweeping the ground.

"Mother Iyoba," Baxina nodded, kissing the woman's cheek.

"Many young ladies and lads are eager to be presented to you." She led them through the ground, talking their ears off as people genuflected as they passed.

Fiyero noted all the blushing girls. He figured that if he wasn't already engaged, this ball would've been his last chance to find a bride for himself before his grandparents picked for him. He looked over at Hannalyn, who was already socializing in a small clique of young ladies.

Fiyero found himself surrounded by the close family members of all the tribe leaders and upper-ranking people. It was rare that the Arjiki, Scrow, Yunamata, and Ugubezi Tribes were all peacefully together. The Scrow and Yunamata had a deep, internal conflict that went back so long, that no one knew why they were at odds, but neither was willing to let up and form unified peace. The Ugubezi tribe resided close to the Ugabun border, and barely came down into deep Vinkun territory. The Arjiki had been the ruling tribe for many centuries, and while they were constantly afraid of another tribe trying to take over, they had to balance it with showing goodwill to all of them.

He was able to do some basic tribal identification by the slightly different skin tones and accents, but it wasn't as accurate as the markings. He played nice and mingled, allowed himself to be introduced to many young ladies, and danced.

He caught bits of conversations of people talking about Eszno, and tried to ignore it. All he had to do was keep smiling and dancing and mingling and ignoring and smiling and spinning and…

"I heard that Prince Fiyero is getting married."

If his engagement wasn't the talk of the ball at the beginning, it was by the height of it. He was standing by a large punch bowl, where a group of five mothers watched their young daughters dance with well-dressed men. He stayed out of sight, but within earshot.

"If the prince is getting married, who here is the lucky lady?"

"She's not here. I heard she's a Munchkin."

"What? A mere Munchkin? You're not serious."

"I heard that The Eminent Thropp deceived His Grandness. They made a marriage agreement, but he didn't say that his granddaughter is defective."

"Defective? How do you mean?"

"There are… rumors."

Fiyero knew he shouldn't be eavesdropping, especially on this mindless gossip, but he couldn't bring himself to walk away.

"Rumors that she's abnormal… in more ways than one. He has more than one eligible heir, but they're sending their worse one because the others believe they're too good to come across Oz."

She lowered her voice, and Fiyero could no longer hear her, no matter how hard he tried. Sighing, he finished his drink and gave up his snooping mission.

"Fiyero!"

The prince turned and saw his mother walking up to him. "Amma."

"Follow me."

He followed his mother to the large pavilion, where the Mother Iyoba was sitting next to the High Ekpe of the Scrow, in a deep, animated discussion. They stood and bowed when they noticed the royals, and gestured for the two young ladies sitting behind him.

"High Princess, my Prince, may I present my niece, Tsie Tylov," the Mother Iyoba said, and the silver-haired young lady bowed.

"And my daughter, Sissalíne Iñkaj," the High Ekpe said, and a shorter girl with long micro-braids and large earrings stepped forward and bowed.

"They will move into the upper servants' rooms in the castle next week. They will be your wife's attendants," Amalie said.

Fiyero nodded to the girls. "Ladies."

The two girls blushed and giggled. Fiyero smiled at them. Surely one of them would've made a decent wife and Vinkun princess.

The rest of the evening continued without major incident. Fiyero danced, mingled, and allowed himself to be introduced to whoever his parents wanted to introduce him to. He was able to sneak a quiet break with his sister and cousin, before Amalie found them and dragged them back outside.

Not as soon as Fiyero would've liked, the party drew to a close. They spent over an hour making their goodbye rounds, finally able to retire close to midnight. They would be staying in the royal tents overnight. The accommodations were large and comfortable, and Fiyero instantly flopped onto the large bed.

Fiyero stood at the altar, his back facing the crowd as he waited for his bride to meet him. He impatiently fidgeted and fiddled with his clothes. The music swelled and he felt a presence directly behind him. He smiled and turned, and lifted the veil covering her face, but screamed and jumped back when he was met with a mangled hunchbacked monster.

The crowd gasped and pointed as the monster hobbled and slobbered, making the people in the first few rows jump up and run away.

Fiyero looked at his parents and they looked disappointed… in him. He recognized that glare, that disdainful frown, those stiff shoulders, and that overall defeat in him.

Fiyero shot up, drenched in a cold sweat. He heaved, rubbing his face and willing himself to relax. He felt physically sick. He shot out of bed and left the tent, stepping into the cold, early morning air. He let his bare feet sink into the grass and he started to calm down after a few deep breaths.

It was just a dream. It wasn't real. There was no way his grandparents would make him marry a monster.