Chapter Text
“Lady Arquezza told me the most interesting thing yesterday,” Momsie said, flouncing into her usual seat next to Popsicle, who was sitting at the head of the table. Glinda and Aurellia shared a look across their porridge. Momsie couldn’t resist sharing any bit of gossip she heard from Sarima’s mother. The Arquezzas nominally ran the most prosperous general store in Frottica, so they were always the first to hear gossip from travelers passing through from Shiz or even further afield.
Their youngest sister, Elladora, looked up from her bowl. Elly couldn’t resist gossip either.
Popsicle didn’t look up from his newspaper. The silence stretched out, for one beat and then two. Finally he turned a page and sighed. “Very well. What did Lady Arquezza tell you?”
“She says that Hastings Hall is to be let at last.”
Surprise showed on Aurellia’s face before she could suppress it. Hastings Hall had been on the market for a year now, maybe two. It was a fine house, only about thirty years old, and it had been fitted with all of the latest improvements. Whoever had rented it out had to be quite wealthy indeed.
Popsicle sighed. “And I suppose you want me to ask who’s renting it.”
“A prince!” Momsie squealed, unable to hide her excitement. “A second son, on an income of 5,000 pounds!” Glinda and Aurellia exchanged another look, this one considerably more excited. The man was a second son and he still had an annual income of 5,000 pounds? His family must have been exceptionally well off. “Eldric Tigelaar is his name. He’s planning to stay the summer with his brother, Prince Fiyero.”
Popsicle flicked ahead to another page in his newspaper. “I’ve never heard of a Prince Tigelaar, Edward or Frederick or anyone else.”
Momsie huffed an annoyed sigh. “Lady Arquezza says he’s Vinkan.” Glinda exchanged another excited look with Aurellia. They’d never met anyone from the Vinkus before. Frottica was positively provincial; they didn’t get many visitors at all, especially not from outside Gillikin. “Highmuster, I’m sure I don’t need to spell out why it is of the utmost importance that you arrange a social call with the princes.”
Popsicle finally set aside his newspaper, his face impassive. “Enlighten me.”
“You have not one, not two, not even three, but four unmarried daughters-none of whom can expect a cent of inheritance to come their way, thanks to the wretched entailment. And the Tigelaar princes have 5,000 pounds a year each. And everyone says we have the nicest looking girls in the county. Why, either one of the princes would be perfect for Aurellia.”
Aurellia let out a nervous laugh. “Momsie, we haven’t met them yet. How do we know that either of them would be perfect for me ?”
“Your mother’s suitability criteria is quite different from other people’s,” Popsicle said. “She believes that the men have 5,000 a year and that’s all that needs to be said on the matter.”
“And I would be right,” Momsie huffed. “Surely 5,000 a year is enough to buy anyone’s happiness. And you know as well as I do, Highmuster, that none of the girls can be introduced to the princes unless you make their acquaintance first.”
Popsicle sighed. “I have a very busy day ahead of me, Larena. I hardly think I’ll have time to pay social calls--”
“Oh please, Father!” Elly piped up from her seat next to Momsie. “I want to meet the princes too.”
Their other sister, Evie, rolled her eyes. She was reading a book under the edge of the table and Momsie was pretending not to notice. “The princes aren’t going to want to marry you, Elly. You’re too young. You’re only seventeen.”
“But that’s old enough,” Elly pouted. She was the baby of the family and Momsie’s special favorite, so she’d grown up spoiled. She was used to getting her way in everything, even-or maybe especially-love.
“Perhaps the princes aren’t here to find a wife at all. Maybe they’re just looking to take advantage of the countryside.” They did have good land for hiking, hunting, and fishing. They lived in a remote part of Oz, but that didn’t make it any less beautiful. Galinda loved to ride out across the fields in the evening, watching the setting sun turn the trees and the hedgerows golden.
“Don’t be ridiculous, Evelina,” Momsie said. “Single men in possession of fortunes like that must be in search of a wife. That’s simply how the world works.”
Evie seemed ready to argue, so Popsicle cleared his throat and cut in. “As a matter of fact, I did pay a visit to Hastings Hall yesterday afternoon.”
Momsie gasped. “You did what? And you didn’t tell me?”
“I’m rather surprised that you didn’t hear about it from Lady Arquezza,” he said, with a smile that wasn’t quite sincere but wasn’t quite mocking either. Galinda got the feeling her father didn’t know how to handle her mother most of the time. Her sudden mood swings confused him, and he often dismissed her worries out of hand before she’d even had a chance to plead her case. But Momsie was right: when Popsicle died-hopefully someday far in the future, but one could never be sure about these things-Galinda and her sisters would be left with nothing. The house and everything in it would go to a distant Arduenna cousin, who could very well decide to throw them out to depend on the mercies of distant relations. “I talked to both of the princes. They seem like very good young men. And I invited them to the Assembly Rooms this weekend.”
Pandemonium ensued-primarily from Momsie and Elly, but Aurellia and Galinda and even Evie were excited too. They loved dancing at the Assembly Room balls in Frottica, especially when there were new men to be potential dance partners.
Even more especially when the new men were princes.
“And I told them they can marry whichever of my daughters they choose.”
Momsie gasped, scandalized. “Highmuster, you didn’t!”
There was that smile again, ironic but not quite mocking. “I didn’t. But I meant it.”
“We need to go into town!” Elly cried. “I need new hair ribbons!” The conversation shifted to carriages and the milliners and perhaps a last minute trip to the subscription library (at Evie's behest).
Aurellia and Galinda exchanged one last look. They weren’t foolish enough to think that one of the princes might actually want to marry one of them. Ardeunna-Upland was a respectable name, of course, but the money had gone out of the family over the decades until they had just enough to live comfortably on. There wasn’t enough to tempt a rich man, especially not a prince, no matter how beautiful they were.
But Galinda wasn’t about to say no to a night or two of dancing.
The preparations for their trip to the Assembly Rooms were even more chaotic than usual. Galinda could hear Elly’s shrieking all the way down the hallway as she complained her poor lady’s maid was pulling her hair, while Evie told her that her screeching wouldn’t do anything to fix it. The lady’s maid that Aurellia and Galinda shared kept shooting glances at the door every so often, like she was thanking her lucky stars that she’d been assigned to the older girls instead.
“Which looks better, Linnie? Green or blue?” Aurellia held each dress up against her, turning in front of the mirror so she could examine herself from as many angles as possible.
“I prefer the blue, but you look stunning in either,” Galinda replied, while the maid finished arranging her hair. Maybe it was just sisterly solidarity, but she thought Aurellia looked beautiful in everything. Everyone else seemed to think so too; everyone whispered that Aurellia had the best chance out of any of them at making an illustrious marriage. Though all of Aurellia’s beauty and charm and kindness would be needed to combat the twin terrors of their genteel poverty and their parents’ constant social faux pas.
“Now you’re just trying to flatter me,” Aurellia said, but she put the green dress back in her wardrobe. The maid helped her dress, carefully doing up the complicated laces at the back of the dress. It was a rich, midnight blue that almost made her pale skin glow.
Galinda had decided to wear a pale, dusky pink that looked like dried rose petals. “I know you don’t want to think you’re beautiful, but you really are. It’s quite unfair how you got all of the best attributes, you know.”
“As if you aren’t beautiful and intelligent and kind too.” The maid finished tying off the last of her laces. “Thank you very much, Mariah. Now, you’d better go and help Evie. I’m sure Elissa has her hands full with Elly.”
“Of course, Miss.” The maid bobbed a quick curtsey and shut the door on her way out.
“We both know it doesn’t matter if I’m all of those things. I have strong opinions. No one wants to marry a girl with strong opinions.” Galinda brushed her carefully crafted curls over her shoulders; they flickered gold in the warm candlelight.
Aurellia reached over the back of her chair and hugged her, careful not to crush her neat curls. “For what it’s worth, I think you’re perfect. And if any man-or woman-doesn’t see that, then they’re a fool.” When Galinda had realized that she liked girls in the same way that Elly liked boys, Aurellia was the only person she’d told. It didn’t exactly bode well for her future prospects; it was even harder to find a rich heiress than a rich man with money. She told Aurellia-jokingly at first and then perhaps not so jokingly, as time went on-that Aur was going to have to marry well for both of them.
“Then most people are fools.”
Aurellia sighed. “I won’t argue with that. But maybe they can be good dance partners for the night.” The princes would practically be required to dance, if they had any kind of decorum at all.
"You're right, Aur. As always." Galinda loved dancing and it would be nice to have a new partner or two, even if marriage itself was beginning to feel like a foreign concept.
//
The Assembly Rooms were abuzz as everyone waited for the county’s newest residents to arrive. Lady Arquezza said that both princes would be attending and they’d brought a friend of theirs, an heiress who owned one of the biggest estates in Munchkinland. “I hear she has an annual income of 10,000 pounds a year,” Lady Arquezza said, in a tone that suggested she should know these sorts of things. Galinda couldn’t imagine 10,000 pounds all in one place, much less yearly.
“Imagine having that much money,” Sarima said, while she and Galinda watched the other couples dance. Aurellia had been snapped up instantly. Elly was dancing with one of the soldiers who were stationed in the garrison in town and generally making a fool out of herself. Evelina was just waiting to be introduced to the princes so she could run to the library upstairs and read her book. “That's more money than you could possibly spend.”
“I’m sure I could find a way to spend it,” Galinda said. She had a weakness for fancy dresses, but her circumstances didn’t allow her to indulge it. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d worn a dress that hadn’t belonged to Aurellia first.
“There’s something else,” Sarima said, taking a step closer to Galinda so the rest of the room wouldn’t overhear. She lowered her voice. “The heiress, Lady Elphaba Thropp, is green. ”
“Green? Whatever do you mean?” Galinda asked. “Surely she wouldn’t come to a ball if she was ill.”
“No, not that kind of green. Her skin is green. Apparently her father kept her hidden behind the walls of his estate when he was alive, but when he died there was some kind of scandal. Apparently a duke showed up claiming that Lady Elphaba was his child and he settled her entire fortune upon her--”
The doors to the entryway opened on squeaking hinges and the room immediately burst into whispers. The two men were clearly brothers; their hair was arranged the same way, although one brother’s hair was a couple shades lighter than the other. They had the same blue eyes that were laughing and kind, and they wore affable smiles. The candlelight glinted off the silver buttons on their blue suit jackets and they were the picture of politeness as they spoke to Lord and Lady Arquezza and the other town functionaries.
Then the door swung open again and Galinda’s heart stopped.
The first thing she noticed about Lady Elphaba Thropp was her shoes. She was wearing long black boots that clicked against the polished floor of the Assembly Rooms. They couldn’t have been more out of place. Their four silver buckles shone in the candlelight. She wore a long black ballgown that must have cost a small fortune, decorated as it was in jet and obsidian. Small diamonds glittered against the dress’s generous folds, glinting out at them like stars. The dress was at least ten or fifteen years out of fashion, but she wore it as if she’d been born to it. Her dark hair had been sectioned into neat little braids that flowed over her shoulders like a river of ink.
And just like Sarima had said, Lady Elphaba’s skin was a deep green. Galinda had never seen a shade quite like it; not quite a forest green, but certainly not a grass green. Distantly, she mused that it may have been the most beautiful shade of green she had ever seen, and immediately shook the thought from her head. The rest of Elphaba’s face was beautiful too: her arched eyebrows, her vivid green eyes, her hard mouth-but her pretty lips were twisted into an expression of utter disdain. Clearly Lady Elphaba Thropp, with her ten thousand pounds a year and her manor house in Munchkinland, thought she was above country dances.
She didn’t look quite so beautiful anymore, not with that look of condescension in her eyes. Not when she thought she was better than all of them just because she owned half of Munchkinland and had a townhouse in the Emerald City for the season. It was a shame, really. If she hadn't been so disagreeable, she could have been one of those Eligible Heirs that Momsie was always going on about.
But even Galinda had to admit that was too much like a fairytale. “Clearly someone was coerced into coming,” Galinda murmured to Sarima.
Lady Elphaba’s eyes snapped towards her, her gaze cool and calculating. For a moment their eyes met and Galinda felt something turn in the pit of her stomach, like she’d missed a step on the staircase and wasn’t sure if she would fall. Lady Elphaba’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly and then she looked away.
The princes were making their introductions now, so Galinda managed to look away from Lady Elphaba. Eldric was the elder, with golden hair; Fiyero, with darker hair, was younger. They said they had another brother, Edmund, who was nineteen like Evie, but they weren’t sure where he had gone off to. Apparently, he wasn’t much for dancing.
The band struck up a reel and couples took to the dance floor. Eldric began to work his way through the crowd towards them-or, more accurately, towards Aurellia-with Fiyero on his heels. Galinda recognized the slightly dumbfounded look on his face; Aurellia tended to have that effect on people. And she didn’t ruin it when she opened her mouth, like Galinda did. “Good evening, Lord Upland,” he said, giving their father only the most cursory of glances before he looked back at Aurellia.
“Good evening, your Highness,” Father said, setting his glass of wine down on a side table. “May I introduce my wife, Lady Upland, and my daughters: Miss Aurellia, Miss Galinda, Miss Evelina, and Miss Elladora. Girls, this is Prince Eldric Tigelaar.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you all.” He nodded at each of them in turn, but his eyes snapped back to Aurellia like she would disappear if he took his eyes off of her for too long. “Miss Aurellia, may I have this dance?” He extended a white gloved hand to her.
The faintest of blushes tinted Aurellia’s cheeks as she slipped her hand into his. “Yes, of course, your Highness,” she replied.
As soon as they left, Prince Fiyero swooped in and the same round of introductions were made. He extended his hand to Galinda, his soft blue eyes locking onto hers. For a moment, he looked at her like she was the only girl in the room he cared to dance with. She realized later that he looked at everyone that way, to put them at ease. “May I have this dance, Miss Galinda?”
“You may,” she said, slipping her hand into his and allowing him to lead her to the dance floor. His hand almost completely covered hers. Even through the fabric of his glove she could tell that his hands were soft, warm, and uncallused; clearly, he’d never had to work a day in his life.
Of course, Fiyero was a good dancer. ‘Good’ was probably an understatement, really; he’d obviously had years of dancing lessons, just like Galinda and her sisters. Aurellia and Eldric danced next to them; they were so deep in conversation that the other couples might as well have not existed. The corner of Fiyero’s mouth quirked up when he saw them, a quick and almost involuntary gesture. Galinda thought it was sweet. “They’re quite smitten with each other, aren’t they?”
“They certainly are.”
“I’ve never seen Eldric quite so…taken with a lady this quickly.” He kept his tone neutral so that Galinda couldn’t tell how he felt about it.
“I’ve never seen Aurellia so taken either,” she retorted, in case he was implying Aurellia was a flirt (which couldn’t be further from the truth; Aurellia was normally quite shy). Galinda couldn’t help noticing Lady Elphaba standing in the corner, engaged in stiff conversation with Lady Arquezza. Lady Arquezza’s usual smile looked noticeably more fixed. “Who is your friend?” She tried to bat her eyelashes innocently.
“Elphaba?” Fiyero glanced over at her like he’d forgotten she was there. “She’s our childhood friend. She grew up on the estate next to ours. Father says it’s high time Eldric and I settled down, so we’ve enlisted her help in evaluating potential marriage prospects.”
Galinda raised an eyebrow as he neatly pulled her into a turn, pushing her away and then pulling her close in one smooth motion. “Evaluating? That seems like quite a job.”
He shrugged. “She makes sure all the young ladies have the right sort of accomplishments.” Galinda felt a pair of eyes burning into the back of her neck and when she turned she wasn’t surprised to see Lady Elphaba looking back at her with cool, calculating eyes. She was standing alone now, her long skirts mere inches away from the fireplace grate. Galinda ignored the shiver that traveled down her spine and raised her chin slightly. If Lady Elphaba thought that she could intimidate them with her jet and obsidian and her 10,000 a year, she would be sorely mistaken.
“She must have very exacting standards then.” Galinda forced herself to look back at Fiyero, her actual dancing partner.
“Oh, the very highest,” Fiyero said with a smirk. Galinda didn’t say that his friend sounded like a nightmare. They completed the last few steps and then he bowed to her, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her hand. “It was a pleasure to dance with you, Miss Upland. I hope I’ll have the opportunity to do it again soon.”
In spite of herself, Galinda felt a flush rise along the tops of her cheeks as she curtseyed. Fiyero went off to find a new dance partner, leaving her to rejoin Sarima near the back of the room. “All anyone can talk about is your sister and the Prince,” Sarima said, watching the dancers weave in and out of their complicated formations. “I’m sure you wouldn’t mind being the sister to a princess, would you?”
“Oh, hush.” Galinda playfully knocked her elbow against Sarima’s, her eyes accidentally meeting Lady Elphaba’s. She was on the other side of the room now, her green eyes still just as cool and calculating. And beautiful. Galinda couldn’t deny that, even to herself. If only her disagreeable disposition didn’t utterly ruin it. “I’m going to go check on Evie.”
She walked through the main doors and up the staircase to the second floor, where the click of wooden balls smashing together drifted out from beneath the door to the pool room and men’s voices drifted out from beneath the door to the smoking room. She walked all the way to the end of the hallway, where a warm and inviting light streamed out from the library.
Just as she was walking down the hallway, a boy that was perhaps a couple of years younger than her stepped out of the library. He bowed neatly to her and she knew almost immediately that he must have been Fiyero and Eldric’s youngest brother; he had the same laughing blue eyes.
When she entered the library she immediately saw Evie curled up in a chair reading a book that was almost bigger than she was. She clearly didn't care about wrinkling her dress-not that she had many dresses worth preserving, since she always got Aurellia and Galinda’s old things. “How’s the reading?”
“Fascinating,” Evie said, without taking her eyes off the page. "How's the dancing?"
“Perhaps not quite as fascinating, but still fun.” She cleared her throat and Evie finally looked up at her, even though she didn’t close the book. “You know, there’s time for a few more dances.”
“I don’t want to dance,” Evie replied.
“Not even with that nice young man I saw in the hallway?”
Evie stared up at the ceiling and rolled her eyes as far back in her head as she could. “Galinda, you sound like Mother.”
There was no greater insult. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to upset you, or tease you. But I do want you to be able to have at least a little fun tonight.”
“I’m having plenty of fun right here,” Evie said, loudly turning a page. "Besides, nobody's going to ask me to dance in a dress like this."
"Evie, your dress looks fine."
Evie leaned forward and dropped her voice. "It has a hole near the hem!" She sighed. "Elly gets all the new dresses. There are never any left over for me." Galinda tried to think of something to say that wouldn't make her feel worse. "I'd rather be here, Galinda. Really."
Galinda sighed. “Fine. I’ll leave you to your books. But really, who was that man?”
“Prince Edmund Tigelaar,” Evie replied curtly, their conversation clearly at an end. She shifted away from Galinda so her back was turned towards her.
Galinda was heading back downstairs when she heard Fiyero’s voice drift up from the floor below. She stopped instinctively, ducking out of sight and pressing her back against the wall of the stairwell, when she realized that he was talking to Lady Elphaba. In the room next door, someone cheered as he won a lucky hand of cards. She could hear the murmur of voices from the Assembly Rooms, along with the distorted sounds of the orchestra.
“You’re more frigid than an ice lake tonight, Fae,” Fiyero was saying.
“I suppose the Emerald City has ruined me for these more…parochial country pursuits,” Lady Elphaba said, sounding every inch the haughty heiress that she was.
“Yes, you’ve made your disdain quite apparent.” Fiyero sounded like he was fighting to suppress a laugh. “There are so many beautiful girls and you haven’t danced with a single one.”
“Your brother is currently dancing with the only beautiful one.”
“Now you’re not being fair, Fae. There’s her younger sister.”
“She’s tolerable, I suppose. But not enough to tempt me. And you know I don’t dance, as a rule.” Lady Elphaba’s voice was clear and cold.
“ Tolerable? Oz, Fae. Perhaps you need to get your head examined.”
Galinda heard a door open further down the hallway and she had no choice but to walk down the stairwell. Fiyero and Lady Elphaba stopped talking as soon as they saw her. For a moment her eyes met Lady Elphaba’s and Galinda saw a flicker of something that might have been shame pass across her face, if she hadn’t known better. She doubted this Lady Elphaba, with her 10,000 pounds a year, was familiar with the feeling.
She made sure to hold her head high, so they would know she was unbothered. She couldn’t imagine a less pleasant dancing partner than Lady Elphaba, anyway. It was unfortunate that she’d happened to make a comment like that where someone would be sure to hear it and it would travel all over the ballroom before the night was over, but Lady Elphaba had proven to all and sundry exactly who she was: someone who thought she was better than the rest of them, and therefore not worth any of their notice.
The rest of Frottica would act accordingly.
//
“I can’t believe she would say something like that about you,” Aurellia said later that night, as they took turns getting ready for bed in front of the cracked mirror at their vanity. Popsicle had been meaning to replace it for years, but the money always went to something else instead: back pay for the servants, new dresses for Elly (since she couldn’t possibly make do with Evie’s old things), and more books and maps for his ever expanding library. Occasionally he hired a drawing master or a dancing master or even a history teacher, but they rarely stayed for more than a couple of months once Popsicle something else to spend the money on. “You’re just as beautiful as me. Everyone says so.”
“Aur, I truly couldn’t care less about anything that…witch has to say about me,” Galinda replied, climbing under the covers and pulling the duvet up to her chin. Aurellia finished unbraiding her hair, blew out the candle, and crawled into bed beside her. They curled on their sides so they could face each other; she could just see the sparkle of Aur’s eyes in the thin trickle of moonlight that escaped through the curtains. “As far as I’m concerned, it’s best that she revealed her true colors. Imagine if I had fallen in love with someone like that, before I knew that she was secretly so disagreeable.”
“Maybe she’s not so terrible,” Aurellia mused. “Maybe we just…saw her on a bad night.”
“When she barely spoke to a single person? Oz, Evie was more social and she spent three quarters of the night reading in the library.” Galinda sighed. “What are you we going to do with you, Aur? You always see the best in people, even when there’s nothing good to see.”
“One can hope,” Aurellia replied, yawning. “I’d like to believe that the rest of the world isn’t quite as terrible as it pretends to be.”
“I fear you’ll be disappointed,” Galinda replied. “At least when it comes to Lady Elphaba Thropp, of Colwen Grounds.”
Aurellia didn’t answer. She was already asleep.
Galinda thought that would be the end of it. She assumed the Tigelaar brothers would stay at their estate for the next couple of months and keep to themselves, shooting and fishing and going into the Emerald City whenever they needed a break from the leisurely pace of country life. Maybe they would go to the Assembly Rooms once or twice more, perhaps make themselves seen in Frottica, but nothing more. Certainly, they would have nothing more to do with her family.
But then a letter arrived at breakfast, embossed with the letters E and T. It was addressed to Aurellia. Everyone, even Evie and Popsicle, looked on as Aurellia broke the seal with her finger and began to read silently.
“Well?” Elly asked, half rising out of her seat so she could try to read the sheet of paper over Aur’s shoulder. “What does it say?”
“It’s an invitation from Lady Elphaba Thropp,” Aurellia said in a soft and surprised voice. “She’s asked me to visit her at Hastings Hall.”
“Lady Elphaba?” Evie asked. “Why would she ask you to visit? You haven’t even been properly introduced.”
“Honestly, Evie,” Elly huffed. “Must you be so dense? Prince Eldric clearly wants to visit with Aur, but he can’t invite her himself because it wouldn’t be proper. So he’s enlisted Miss Elphaba to help him.”
“Let’s hope she’ll be visiting with the princes,” Galinda said, cutting off a small piece of toast and watching something almost like hope dance across Aurellia’s face. “Lady Elphaba seems like a terrible bore.”
“Well, I think it’s a wonderful idea,” Mother said.
“But Momsie she insulted Galinda in front of everybody at the ball last night,” Evie said. Galinda resisted the urge to roll her eyes; how had the news made it all the way to the library? Perhaps Elly had told her. Elly loved to share any information that portrayed any of her sisters in a less than flattering light with as many people as possible.
“Regardless,” Momsie said, adding more sugar to her tea. “Perhaps Lady Thropp is more…cordial in familiar surroundings. You’ll want to set out after breakfast, Aurellia, if you want to reach Hastings Hall before luncheon.”
“Can’t she take the carriage?” Galinda asked.
“I’m afraid not. I’ll be going into town later today with Elly to pick up new hair ribbons for the younger girls.”
“This is the first I’m hearing about it,” Popsicle said. Clearly it was also the first that Elly was hearing about it; she was smiling widely.
“Aurellia will not be taking the carriage and that’s final,” Momsie said. “She can take one of the horses. Hastings Hall isn’t far, and the weather looks lovely.”
Not ten minutes after Aurellia had left, wearing her nicest dress and her traveling cloak, the skies opened up and poured. But Momsie didn’t seem bothered. Quite the opposite, in fact. “Now she’ll have to stay overnight. They can’t possibly send her home in weather like this.”
And indeed, a letter arrived just after dinner in Aurellia’s careful script. Galinda practically snatched it out of the messenger’s hand, breaking the seal with her fingernail. “She says she’s sick.” Aurellia wrote that she ‘only’ had a fever, a headache, and a sore throat, which meant she must have been in a great deal of pain.
Momsie looked almost indecently excited. “Now they won’t be able to send her back before Monday at the very earliest!”
Galinda had to resist the urge not to roll her eyes. Just when she thought Momsie had scraped the very depths of husband hunting desperation, she managed to discover new lows. “What if she gets worse? What if she dies?”
“No one ever dies from a cold.”
“People die from colds all the time,” Evie said from her chair in front of the fire.
“If she does die,” Popsicle said, his voice sardonic, “at least we can all comfort ourselves that it was in pursuit of a prince.”
“You’re all being ridiculous,” Galinda said, handing the letter to Evie for her perusal. “I’m going to go stay with her.”
Since the carriage was still out she ended up walking, wearing her oldest traveling cloak. Luckily there had been a break in the rain, but dark clouds still gathered menacingly overhead, just waiting for the right moment to drench her. Besides the imminent threat of rain, it was a perfect day for walking. The air was crisp and clear, cool enough to ensure she didn’t get too sweaty but not cold enough to make her shiver. She hummed to herself as she skirted the edges of ditches and walked along carefully cultivated fields. As far as she looked in either direction, she could only see more fields and forests and occasionally a glitter of the lake. She could see the foothills of the Gillikin peaks in the distance, so far away they were hazy against the skyline.
She couldn’t imagine spending half the year-or more-in the Emerald City, surrounded by buildings and dirt and the crush of people. If Lady Elphaba couldn’t see how beautiful and peaceful the country was then she was a fool and Galinda was better off not knowing her.
When she arrived at Hastings Hall and a footman in deep blue livery conducted her into the drawing room, there was mud on the hem of her dress. Her hair had come loose from its chignon and was falling around her shoulders, and she had to remind herself that she wasn’t here to impress anyone. That was Aurellia’s job, not hers. “Miss Galinda Upland,” the footman said, before carefully retreating from the room.
Galinda tried to take in the room without letting her provinciality show. It was grander than almost every other room she’d seen, apart from the Assembly Rooms. There were dark blue curtains hanging at the windows and a few chairs upholstered in the same color scattered across the room. There was a screen standing in front of the fireplace embroidered with colorful patterns from Quadling Country, and glass ornaments made by Quadling glassblowers. Prince Fiyero and Lady Elphaba sat in front of the fireplace; the Prince wrote a letter, while Lady Elphaba read a book. Her legs were curled up underneath her in a pose that was quite unladylike but would have been endearing if Galinda hadn’t detested her so much. When she saw Galinda she stood up so quickly her book fell to the ground. Galinda expected her to say something cutting about the state of her hair or the med on her dress, or tell her curtly where she could find Aurellia before going back to her book. Instead, Lady Elphaba didn’t say anything at all. Galinda could feel her green eyes bore into her with a quiet intensity, and something twisted low in her stomach.
“I came to see my sister,” she said, as it became clear Lady Elphaba wasn’t going to say anything. Fiyero’s eyes flicked between them, like he was a spectator at a sporting match.
“She’s upstairs. I’ll take you to her,” Lady Elphaba said after another long pause. She walked back through the door Galinda had entered from, not checking to see if anyone was following her. Her book lay abandoned where she’d dropped it in front of the fireplace. They walked into the main front hall and up the wide marble staircase, with its bannister that still smelled of furniture polish. “She fell ill almost as soon as she arrived,” she said, responding to a question Galinda hadn’t asked. “Eldric and Edmund are with her now. I was sitting with her earlier. You don’t need to worry about Eldric. He’s a good man. And Edmund knows how to be a good chaperone.” She must have realized that she’d spoken more words at once than Galinda had ever heard from her, because she clamped her mouth shut.
“I wasn’t worried, but thank you,” Galinda said.
Lady Elphaba glanced down at her hemline. “Did you walk here in this weather?”
If Galinda didn’t know better, she would have thought that Lady Elphaba sounded concerned. “It’s not far, and the rain was kind enough to hold out until I arrived.”
“You didn’t take a carriage?”
A spark of annoyance flared inside of her. Did Lady Elphaba really think that every family in the Uplands had more than one carriage to ferry them from place to place so their exalted feet would never have to touch the earth? “We only have the one carriage, Lady Elphaba, and it was otherwise occupied.”
If she noticed the edge in her voice, Lady Elphaba didn’t let on. “Oh.” She looked down at the carpeting on the floor. “Would you like to borrow some of my things, until the servants are able to wash yours?”
Galinda didn’t know what to say. It was a thoughtful gesture, coming from someone she hadn’t believed capable of such consideration. But was it really thoughtful at all? Perhaps she was just worried about the mud on Galinda’s hem staining the carpet. Maybe it was meant to be a calculated insult.
But it was clear that Galinda would have to stay at least the night, if not the weekend, and she’d prefer not to wear muddy skirts. “That’s very generous of you, my Lady.”
“Miss Elphaba, if you please.” They reached a door that had been left slightly ajar and she pushed it open on silent hinges. “I’ll let you speak to her.” She headed off down the hallway, her head high and her posture ramrod straight. Galinda didn’t think she’d ever seen someone stand so straight before.
Inside the guest bedroom, Aurellia lay propped up on a mound of pillows. Galinda wasn’t sure the Uplands had that many pillows in their entire house. “You came,” she said, voice hoarse, holding out a hand for Galinda.
“Of course I did.” Galinda squeezed her hand. “I couldn’t let you be sick alone, could I?”
The two chairs that had been pulled up to the fireplace were both occupied; Eldric sat in the chair closest to the bed, while the young man she’d seen exiting the library sat in the chair closest to the fireplace. He was reading a book that was almost as thick as his head. They both stood up when they saw her. “Miss Galinda! How nice it is to see you again!” Eldric said. “I don’t believe you met my youngest brother, Edmund, at the Assembly rooms. He’s just completed his first year at Shiz.”
Edmund nodded to her. “Pleased to meet you, Miss Galinda.” His smile wasn’t quite as big as his brothers’, but it still seemed genuine.
“They’ve all been so kind to me, even though I've been such an imposition,” Aurellia croaked.
“Oh don't speak, darling. It sounds horredibly painful." Galinda squeezed her hand and curtseyed to the two men. “Thank you for opening your home to us. I can assure you she’s much more comfortable here than she would be at home.” The Upland household was never quiet. The noises of the animals in the backyard always carried in through the windows and the corridors were filled with Elly’s chatter, her parents’ good natured spats, Evie talking about whatever topic she happened to be reading about, and the servants trying to go about their business.
“You’re not an imposition at all. On the contrary, it’s a pleasure to have you.” Eldric’s face reddened. “Not that…I mean, it’s not a pleasure that you’re sick. It’s just good that you’re sick here, instead of at your home…Oh dear. That sounded worse, didn’t it?”
“And we’re leaving,” Edmund said, practically pushing him out the door. They left the door slightly ajar behind them.
“How are you really, dearest?” Galinda asked once she was sure the boys were downstairs.
“My throat is a little better, but my head still aches and I think my fever got worse. Prince Eldric called a doctor, but I--”
“He called you a doctor?” Momsie and Popsicle wouldn’t spare the money for a doctor unless it seemed like someone was in imminent danger of dying.
“I know, I know, but I didn’t realize until it was too late. He seemed so concerned, Galinda. It was very sweet of him.” Galinda decided to pretend that the flush on Aurellia’s cheeks was solely caused by the fever.
“You should have heard how smug Mother was when it started pouring right after you left,” Galinda said. “It was like she thought she orchestrated the entire thing--”
Of course, Lady Elphaba- Miss Elphaba, Galinda corrected herself-chose that exact moment to barge in. She didn’t even bother to knock first, and she shoved the bundle of clothing she held right into Galinda’s arms. “I brought you several different options, Miss Galinda.”
“Oh.” There were at least five different dresses-one in forest green, one in deepest blue, one in a soft and buttery yellow, one in a deep red, and one in a dusky pink. Galinda held the pink dress, rubbing the soft pink silk between her fingertips. She didn’t think she’d ever touched such a fine dress, much less been able to wear one.
She didn’t realize she’d spent too long looking at that beautiful pink dress until Miss Elphaba picked up the other dresses she’d discarded. “You can change in the room across the hall, if you’d like,” she said, her voice brusque. She didn’t look at either of them. "You can put your dirty things in the hallway and someone will be along to collect them shortly.”
“That’s very…generous of you, Miss Elphaba.” Galinda wasn’t exactly sure how to square this unexpected consideration with the grand Lady Elphaba she’d met at the dance, who’d complained about the provinciality of Frottica’s society.
For a moment she thought she’d read Miss Elphaba wrong, until she cleared her throat and said “I wouldn’t want you to track mud onto the carpets and ruin them.”
“Of course not.” Galinda went across the hall to change and quickly realized she had a problem. Normally, a lady’s maid would have been on hand to help her lace up her stays, but no one was there. In fact, she couldn’t see a single servant as she looked up and down the hall.
“Do you require assistance, Miss Galinda?” Miss Elphaba’s voice, by her shoulder, nearly made her jump. Galinda hadn’t even noticed her walk across the hall.
Galinda felt her face flush and hoped Miss Elphaba wouldn’t see it in the dim light of the upstairs hallway. “It’s just that I can’t reach high enough to lace up my dress.”
Miss Elphaba thought for a second, nodded, and then said “Turn around.”
Galinda had been expecting her to call for a maid or-worse-leave her to deal with the problem herself. Instead she felt Miss Elphaba’s hands at the back of her neck and the top of her spine, fluidly lacing up the dress, her fingers deft and sure as if she laced up other people’s dresses every day of her life.
Galinda felt warm everywhere her skin brushed against hers.
“How does that feel?” Miss Elphaba asked, like she genuinely cared about her comfort.
“It…it’s fine, thank you.” Miss Elphaba nodded and returned to her seat in the sickroom. Aurellia had fallen asleep, so she’d pulled out a book-a different book from the one she’d dropped on the floor of the drawing room. Not knowing what else to do, Galinda took the other chair. She felt Aurellia’s forehead with the back of her hand-she was warm, but not too much so-and used a handkerchief to sponge the sweat from her forehead. When Aurellia whimpered in her sleep, she quietly sang an old folksong to soothe her, a song that Momsie used to sing to them when they were younger-until Evie and Elly came along and Momsie no longer had the energy to sing to them. Or parent them at all, really.
“Where did you hear that song?” Miss Elphaba asked after the last verse, when Galinda realized she probably shouldn’t have been singing in a stranger’s house. But if Miss Elphaba was bothered by the singing, she didn’t say anything.
“My mother used to sing it to us when we were small,” she said.
“My mother did as well,” Miss Elphaba said. Galinda thought she would volunteer more information, but she didn’t.
Galinda tried to remember exactly what Lady Arquezza had said about Lady Elphaba Thropp: her father had locked her away because of her skin color. What had happened to her mother? Had she gone along with it? Or was she dead? For a moment she wanted to ask, but she didn’t know how Miss Elphaba would respond. Perhaps she’d think the question was unnecessarily intrusive. And hadn't Sarima intimated some other kind of scandal, but they'd been interrupted before she could relate it?
They spent most of the afternoon in a silence that wasn’t entirely uncomfortable. Miss Elphaba was very different from Galinda’s sisters, who couldn’t stay quiet for any length of time. She was used to not being able to get a word in edgewise, or to have to play peacemaker between Evie and Elly or Evie and their mother. Momsie had never understood Evelina and these days she rarely bothered to try. Evie pretended it didn’t bother her, but Galinda knew better. She’d always held out hope that Evie would be able to make a love match someday-she was pretty too, even if she didn’t advertise it in the way that Aurellia seemed to be able to do without trying-but spending more time in the library than the Assembly Rooms certainly wouldn’t help her meet eligible bachelors.
But sitting with Miss Elphaba, Galinda didn’t feel a need to fill the silence. She wasn’t sure if Miss Elphaba even wanted her to. And sitting in silence, listening to the crackle of the fire in the fireplace and the rustle of Miss Elphaba’s pages, was almost pleasant. She could observe Miss Elphaba in peace. She could watch how she fed the fire herself, even though the Tigelaars surely had endless numbers of servants who could do it instead. She noticed the curve of Miss Elphaba’s neck as she read, the way her fingertips worked each sheet of paper between them before she turned a page. Her green eyes were just as intense, even if their gaze didn’t rest on Galinda. In fact, as the hours went by, Galinda felt more and more sure that wasn’t accidental. Miss Elphaba didn’t seem to want to make eye contact with her.
Galinda decided she wouldn’t make eye contact with her either. She wished she’d thought to bring a book, or a piece of embroidery. Everyone complimented her embroidery. Mother had discontinued their lessons when she and Aurellia were small but she’d kept the habit up herself. She liked that embroidery required her full attention, so she couldn’t take any notice of what was happening around her. After a while, she could feel Miss Elphaba’s eyes on her-or rather, on her embroidery. “Do you sew, Miss Elphaba?” she asked, to let her know that she’d noticed her unabashed staring.
“When I need to,” Miss Elphaba said, and that was that.
Galinda didn’t say that she embroidered Aurellia’s old dresses sometimes, to give them a new spark of life when they were passed down to her and Evie. Elly almost always got new things. She cried that by the time a dress had gone through three different girls it was hardly wearable, and Popsicle took pity on her and bought her new dresses that they couldn’t afford. When Galinda had confronted him about it once, he’d told her to have pity on her youngest sister. “She doesn’t have the beauty and grace and refinement of you other girls,” he’d said in a voice that would have carried if Elly had been outside eavesdropping. “Allow her to have what small compensations she can.” But she didn’t share any of that with Miss Elphaba, whose opinion of her family was undoubtedly low as it was.
“How did you meet the Princes?” she asked after at least an hour had gone by and Aurellia was still sleeping peacefully. Galinda hoped her fever would break by morning; as grand and spacious as Hastings Hall was, she didn’t want to tarry a moment longer than necessary. She looked around the room, trying to commit everything to memory so she could share it with her sisters later: the marble fireplace mantel, the heavy purple hangings around the bed, the crisp and lacy duvet.
“We were childhood friends,” Miss Elphaba said in a clipped voice. She still didn’t look up from her book. “Their summer estate bordered Colwen Grounds.” Galinda assumed that was all she would get out of her, but then Elphaba added “Eldric and Fiyero were the only friends I had for a very long time.”
Galinda nearly asked why, even though she suspected she knew. But she could sense that prickly Miss Elphaba didn’t want to talk about her (admittedly rather beautiful) verdigris, and Galinda didn’t force her.
And so they passed the rest of the afternoon in a silence that would have felt almost companionable, if Galinda hadn’t known better. If she hadn't known that Lady Elphaba was really quite disagreeable.