How she hated putting on this front in front of her 'loyal subjects'. How she hated having to pretend everything was fine and that she was happy. How she loathed it. She even felt it towards Fiyero, to some extent. The sneaky little bastard didn't love her, he loved Elphaba.

And that made two of them.

How she despised it, standing up here and telling everyone that everything would be fine, that she was going to fix it, that she would keep them safe.

Safe from what, though? Elphaba meant no harm.

Safe from Morrible, probably. From Oz, definitely. She could only subtly guarantee that, she could only subtly promise that their worst enemies would never hurt them.

Glinda hated it, up here, next to Fiyero who pretended he loved her while she pretended back, next to Morrible who was probably one of the worst people she had ever met, in front of all these people with light and promise in their eyes who gazed on her as if she was the whole world.

She remembered when she could look like that at someone. But that was a long gone time and she couldn't bear to look at anyone that way anymore. Not even her 'darling fiancé'.

The last person she had ever looked at like that had left her alone while she went off to do things for the greater good, instead of doing things to keep her happy. Glinda understood – she really did – what Elphaba had to do. But she hated that after all those nights in their room where they promised each other so much more than any friends could promise, Elphaba still left her alone.

And so, she looked down at all her loyal subjects, hanging on her every word, and thought that she hoped they never had to be left alone like she had been after looking at someone like that.