Chapter 1
The princess of the Upper Uplands had always lived in a world of luxury, one where the mountains rose as silent sentinels, their peaks bathed in golden sunlight. Princess Galinda had never known fear, never felt the sharp sting of danger. She had grown up in the warmth of her family’s castle, surrounded by servants, tutors, and a life tailored to perfection.
But now, the world outside the castle’s towering walls seemed darker, more treacherous.
Galinda stood at the balcony of her chamber, gazing out across the vast expanse of her kingdom, her fingers idly tracing the edge of the marble railing. The Uplands had always been a place of peace, nestled high above the conflicts of the lower lands. But that peace was no longer certain. Her parents, King Highmuster Arduenna and Queen Larena Upland had kept the growing tensions with the enormous kingdom of Emerald city a secret for as long as they could, but now the whispers in the castle halls had turned into urgent, hushed conversations behind closed doors.
The kingdom of the Emerald City, once a mere nuisance at the borders, had begun to muster forces. Their spies were rumored to have infiltrated the Upper Uplands. And in a world where alliances could be shattered as easily as porcelain, a threat this subtle could become lethal in an instant.
Galinda’s parents, in their overprotective fear, had changed. They were no longer the laughing, affectionate figures she had grown up with, they turned somber, cold, and wrapped in secretive arousals. She no longer roamed the corridors freely, no longer wandered into the kitchens to steal snacks from the bakers. Her every movement, every step, was now watched. The curfews, once a distant rumor told in whispers, had become a harsh reality. She wasn’t allowed to leave her chambers after dusk. Her attendants were no longer allowed to take her to the marketplace, nor was she allowed partake in her regular activities, like riding her many horses through the meadows. Her parents feared the worst, and in their fear, they had caged her.
Galinda shifted her gaze away from the rising horizon and let her eyes fall to the door. A shadow passed beneath it, followed by the soft tap of boots on the marble floor. The door creaked open before a figure stood in the doorway, the sun cascading a darker green onto her skin.
"Your Highness," the voice was low, commanding. "It is time."
Galinda glanced over her shoulder. Her new guard had arrived. Elphaba.
The woman stood tall and unyielding, dressed in the black and gold armor of the royal guard, her expression unreadable. She had been assigned to Galinda just days ago at the insistence of her parents, who feared the princess’s safety with growing threats throughout the land. Galinda hadn’t even been consulted about the decision. Her parents had told her, flatly, that it was for her protection.
"Another day of confinement, I suppose?" Galinda said, her voice tinged with sarcasm.
Elphaba didn’t flinch. She had become an expert at standing still in the face of the princess's barbed words.
"I am here to escort you, Your Highness, as instructed." Galinda sighed, walking away from the balcony, her footsteps echoing in the vast chamber. She turned toward her wardrobe, pulling open the door to reveal an array of gowns in every shade imaginable, but her hands hovered over them, her mind far from the fabrics.
"What’s the point of these, Elphaba? These gowns, this jewelry?" Galinda’s voice cracked with the weight of frustration she had bottled up.
"They've cage me in more ways than one." She said as she threw one of the perfectly sewed gowns onto her bed. "I've no audience anymore, but somehow appearances matter."
Elphaba, who had always kept a professional distance, seemed to soften ever so slightly at the princess’s words. She had seen this before, princesses who wore their crowns like a mantle of suffocation. But she was a guard, not a counselor.
"It is not for you to choose, Princess," Elphaba said simply. "Your family’s wishes are my orders. And those orders are to keep you safe." Galinda turned away from her wardrobe, her face flushed with a mixture of anger and helplessness. "Safe? Is that what you think this is? Keeping me locked up like a bird in a gilded cage?" Elphaba’s eyes narrowed slightly, and for a moment, there was a flicker of something beneath her calm exterior.
"It is not my place to question your family’s decisions. Only to carry them out." Galinda’s gaze softened, but the frustration remained. "And what about you, Elphaba? Do you believe I need protection from a rival kingdom?"
For the first time, Elphaba hesitated. "Fear," she said softly, almost to herself. "Fear makes people do things they might otherwise regret." Galinda’s eyes met Elphaba’s, a quiet understanding passing between them, though neither of them spoke it aloud.
The princess had come to the realization upon the last few days in her presence that Elphaba, for all her stoic professionalism, wasn’t simply a guard to her. She might just be the one person who could understand the tension between duty and desire for freedom. Elphaba stepped closer, her boots silent against the stone floor.
"It is time to go, Your Highness." Galinda exhaled, her shoulders slumping slightly as she turned toward the door. The hallway beyond was as cold and lifeless as the rest of the castle, guarded, quiet, and under constant watch. "Lead the way, Elphaba." As they walked together down the long corridors, Galinda couldn’t shake the feeling that something was shifting. With Elphaba by her side, the walls felt both safer and more suffocating. There was an unspoken tension in the air, a sense that the world outside was growing more dangerous with every passing hour. And no matter how tightly her family tried to bind her to the safety of the palace, Galinda knew that the danger was already creeping closer.
The stone corridor stretched endlessly before them, its cool, ancient walls a reminder of the castle’s immovable history. Princess Galinda walked with deliberate grace, her every step echoing in the silent passage. Elphaba walked beside her, always a step behind, her dark armor blending into the shadows. But the tall knight brooding knight watched her every move, but unlike the other kingdoms guard, she watched with pristine awe, an awe Galinda could not break open to reveal truth if she even wanted to.
Galinda had become accustomed to the quiet presence of her new guard, too accustomed, perhaps. At first, Elphaba had been a distant figure, an enigma wrapped in the black and gold of the royal guard. But over the days, the silence between them had become something else, something almost… familiar.
As they reached the grand staircase that led down into the palace’s central hall, Galinda paused. Her gaze flickered to the massive portrait hanging at the top of the stairs as her parents, stood side by side in regal splendor, their expressions poised and impenetrable. Their eyes seemed to watch over the castle, over her.
“They don’t trust me anymore, do they?” Galinda’s voice was softer than she intended, tinged with a bitterness she wasn’t sure she wanted Elphaba to hear.
Elphaba’s gaze never wavered from the princess’s profile, but her words were carefully measured. “Your parents love you, Your Highness. Their actions come from a place of fear, not distrust.”
“I’m not a child anymore,” Galinda muttered, her fingers tightening around the edge of the railing as she stared down at the grand hall below. “I can take care of myself.”
“I’m sure you can,” Elphaba said, her tone unreadable. “But there are many things beyond the walls of this palace that can’t be solved with mere willpower.”
Galinda’s gaze flicked to her guard, meeting her eyes for the first time in what felt like hours. There was something in Elphaba’s expression, something that hinted at experience hard earned and unspoken. The princess’s lips parted to speak, but the words caught in her throat. She wanted to argue, to insist that she didn’t need protecting, but the truth was, the mounting tension outside the palace walls felt real. Instead she precended with a certain tracing of embroidered line on Elphaba's armor, she often did this.
"Do you think the Wizards spies will attack?" Galinda finally asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Elphaba hesitated as she straightened herself to see bounding from Galinda's touch. “I don’t know. But it would be foolish to assume they won’t.”
The air between them grew heavy. Galinda felt her chest tighten. “I’m tired of waiting. Of being hidden away. I was never meant to sit in a palace and-” She bit back the words, but it was too late. Her frustration spilled over. “I want to do something. I want to know what’s happening, not just hear rumors whispered in halls.”
Elphaba’s expression remained impassive, but there was an underlying understanding in her eyes. “The only thing that matters right now is your safety, Princess. Your family made a decision out of love.”
“And fear,” Galinda added bitterly, crossing her arms. “But they’re not the only ones who love me.” Her voice cracked slightly, and she quickly swallowed it back. “I want to help. I can’t stand by and do nothing.”
Elphaba’s gaze softened, just for a moment. “I understand. But sometimes doing nothing is the hardest thing to do.”
Galinda looked away, her fingers now absently tracing the intricate carvings on the stone railing as her other hand traced Elphaba's armor still. “And what about you?” she asked quietly. “Do you think I’m weak, too?”
Elphaba’s lips pressed together in a thin line. “No, Your Highness. But I do think you’re more than just a princess. You’re someone who sees beyond the walls, someone who will lead us one day. It’s my duty to protect that. Not just your life, but your potential.”
Galinda’s breath caught. She hadn’t expected such words from her stoic guard. Elphaba had always been so... distant, so unreadable. The fact that she spoke with such quiet conviction made Galinda feel both seen and misunderstood at once.
“I’m not my parents’ shadow, Elphaba,” Galinda said softly, turning away from the staircase and taking her hands away from wall and sadly Elphaba's armor, moving toward the grand hall. “I’m not a symbol to be kept locked away. I have a mind, a voice. A kingdom is more than walls, and sometimes... sometimes the greatest danger is in silence.”
Elphaba followed her without a word. They walked down the hall, the sound of their footsteps echoing in the vast space. Galinda’s resolve hardened as they passed beneath the portraits of her ancestors. Each face and each painted monarch seemed to stare down at her with an unspoken judgment. They had ruled with power, with wisdom, but it was clear that none had faced the threat she now did.
The silence between them stretched again, but this time, it felt different, filled with something unsaid, something that neither of them wanted to acknowledge but both knew was there.
When they reached the large, arched door that led into the royal dining hall, Galinda hesitated. The guards outside the door straightened as they saw her approach, their eyes flickering to Elphaba for confirmation. Galinda could feel the weight of their stares, the way they all seemed to be waiting for her next move. She straightened, her shoulders squaring, and pushed the door open, stepping into the warm, dimly lit room.
As she entered, the murmur of conversation faltered, and all eyes turned toward her. Her parents sat at the head of the long table, their faces calm but their eyes full of unspoken tension.
“Your Highness,” the queen greeted, though her voice held a note of concern as she studied her daughter. “You’re late.”
“I was with Elphaba,” Galinda replied, her gaze flickering to the chair beside her. She took a deep breath before sitting in her chosen chair.
The king spoke first, his deep voice leaving no room for protest. "Well lets make this quick my dear." He took one last sip of his drink in his goblet before setting it on the dining table. “It is decided. You will marry Prince Fiyero of the Vinkus."
Galinda’s breath caught in her throat. She had known this was coming had heard the whispers in the halls, seen the way her mother’s gaze had softened with pity when she looked at her. But hearing it spoken aloud felt like a blade slipping between her ribs and she never expected it so soon.
"I see,"she said, forcing her voice to remain even as she felt every individual decision of hers crashing away. “And my feelings on the matter?”
The queen exhaled, her expression patient but firm. "Your duty comes before your heart, Galinda. A ruler does not marry for love. They marry for their people."
Galinda let out a sharp, hollow laugh. “Then why not tell me sooner? Why let me pretend I had a choice?”
The king’s jaw tightened. "Because we hoped you would understand. You are not a child anymore."
"I would think otherwise," Galinda said, her voice clipped. "Believe me, I feel the weight of that every day."
A heavy silence followed. The fire crackled in the hearth, filling the space where words failed.
Finally, her father spoke. "Galinda," he said, his voice measured, careful. "I know this isn’t what you wanted. It isn’t what I wanted either. But if we must do this, for the safety of you and our people."
She turned to him then, searching his face for something, arrogance, indifference, even the smallest hint of resistance. But there was none. He wasn’t the villain in this. He was just as much a pawn as she was.
She swallowed the lump in her throat and lifted her chin. "Then I suppose, my opinion in the matter is shut." she said, though the words felt like ash on her tongue.
Her mother smiled, a quiet sort of relief in her eyes. “You will be a queen one day, my dear. And queens do not always have the luxury of choice. But they always have the power to shape their fate.”
Galinda didn’t reply. She simply turned away, her footsteps echoing against the cold stone as she left the chamber with Elphaba following behind her, her heart heavier than it had ever been.
The heavy oak door slammed shut behind them, rattling the delicate glass of the chandelier overhead. The fire in the hearth cast restless shadows across the chamber as Galinda paced, the silk of her gown swishing violently with each step. Elphaba stood near the door, arms crossed over her dark armor, watching but saying nothing. She had seen the storm brewing behind the princess’s eyes during the council meeting and now, it was here, unchecked and furious.
Galinda’s breath was uneven as she turned sharply to face her guard. "Tell me, Elphaba," she spat, "do you also believe this marriage is for the good of the kingdom?"
Elphaba inhaled slowly before answering. "Yes."
Galinda flinched as if struck. "You would say that," she scoffed, shaking her head. "Because it’s easy for you, isn’t it? You’ve never had to live your life as something delicate to be passed between men like a treasured relic."
Elphaba’s jaw tightened. "That is not what’s happening."
Galinda let out a bitter laugh. "Oh, isn’t it? My parents spoke of it as if I were some treaty to be signed, sealed, and sent off. They didn’t ask me if I loved Fiyero. They didn’t ask if I wanted this." Her voice cracked, but she lifted her chin defiantly. "And now you, of all people, tell me it’s for the best?"
Elphaba took a measured step forward. "Galinda—"
"No"” she snapped. "Don’t ‘Galinda’ me. Don’t stand there in your armor and pretend this doesn’t bother you."
Elphaba’s expression remained unreadable. "It is my duty to protect you, not to question the king’s will."
Galinda let out a frustrated cry and closed the space between them in two quick steps. "Your duty," she hissed, before slamming her fists against Elphaba’s chestplate.
The impact sent a dull clang echoing through the chamber, but Elphaba didn’t move. Galinda hit her again once, twice her palms flat against the embroidered gold of the armor.
"Say something," she demanded, pounding her fists harder. “Say something, damn you!”
Elphaba caught her wrists.
The moment their skin touched, the world seemed to still. Galinda’s breath hitched, her chest heaving from exertion. Elphaba’s grip was firm but not rough, her fingers wrapping around Galinda’s wrists with a gentleness that made something inside the princess splinter.
Their faces were close now, too close. Galinda could feel the warmth radiating from Elphaba, the steadiness of her breath against her own unsteady one.
"You don’t understand," Galinda whispered, her voice barely audible now. "I don’t want to be someone’s wife. I don’t want to be someone’s duty."
Elphaba swallowed, her eyes searching Galinda’s face for something unspoken. "You are more than that," she murmured. "You are more than what they decide for you."
Galinda let out a shuddering breath, her fingers trembling beneath Elphaba’s grip. “Then why won’t you fight for me?”
Elphaba exhaled sharply, as if the words had struck her in a way no blade ever could. "Because if I do, I won’t be able to stop."
The air between them was thick, charged with something fragile yet unbreakable. Neither moved, neither spoke. Galinda’s hands had stopped trembling. Elphaba’s grip had softened.
Outside, the wind howled through the castle corridors, but inside, there was only silence the kind that held everything unspoken.