//------------------------------//
// Chapter 47: Breakfast at the Cloudsdale embassy. 
// Story: I am my own OC 
// by KittyrinnAiko 
//------------------------------//

Breakfast was located in a room with a hearth set right in the middle. The hearth had been lifted up with counter space on four sides that were just wide enough to accommodate tableware. It looked a bit like a Benihana restaurant save in that the host also had a place to eat and everyone sat on cushions that were on the floor.

“I must confess I’ve not seen an Irori that has been lifted up like this,” I offered in reference to the fire pit in the middle of the room after having bowed to our host the Deputy Chief Counsel.

“A modern adaptation,” he offered while directing Princess Luna to sit to his right. It’s mostly for show these days as most of the food is prepared in a modern kitchen.

“Thank you Consular Kuna,” Mom replied as he pointed towards the lofted ceiling. In addition to the pothook that was suspended from the ceiling, a cage and a vent hood were up there.

“You’ll note the cage, that is lowered when the hearth is not actively being used. Both the elevation and the cage are to keep inquisitive and or careless foals out of the fire pit. The hood features a fan at the far end of the pipe to draw smoke out without causing a noticeable disturbance the way a fan at the hood would.”

“And you don’t simply allow the smoke to filter through?” I ask.

“That only works with thatch. These structures feature a composite ultralight tile on an insulated roof. Smoke doesn’t filter through that type of roof very well. - Please, have a seat.”

“I must confess that there is so much that is new to me,” I offered as I sat to mom’s right. Scootaloo sat next to me, then Lofty, followed by Sakura Yuki, Kenta, and then finally Consular Kuna.

“You’ll find that there have been a lot of changes,” Consular Kuna offered as every pony was seated. It’s also brought about a blending of cultures.”

“I must confess that I think that sitting on cushions like this just makes a lot more sense,” I offered.

“You don’t like chairs?” Lofty asked.

“They take a bit of getting accustomed to,” mom offered.

“I don’t understand the use either,” Kuna offered. “They started out as a show of status and wealth. After a while, the use of chairs was adopted by just about everyone. We don’t use chairs or any heavy furnishings here to avoid overloading our island. Not that it’s a problem, but we wouldn't want to find we are at our limit the hard way.”

“You mean like some heavy-set visitor steps on and suddenly the whole thing flips, I gather,” I offered with a smile as a servant brought out breakfast while another hung a tea kettle over the fire pit. 

“I’d say that’s a recurrent concern of mine.” He offered with a smile.

“If you are having nightmares I may be able to help?” Mom offered. “There are limits to what I can actually do though.”

“I’m good,” Kuna offered. “But since we are at it I’ve heard rumors of a black alicorn driving off night terrors.”

“That would be the Night Mare,” I offered. “She seems to have been purified as well and if I were to hazard a guess, she’s trying to make up for what she did. I pray that someday she will find a way.”

“You seem to have a soft spot for her?” Sakura asked.

“It’s entirely possible she and her brother might not have been born without her influence on me,” Mom offered. “It took quite a lot to break away from my sister. And undoubtedly that same resentment that made me vulnerable. I’d become little more than furniture. At least now no pony expects me to just sit in a palace all the time and behave myself.”

“And now that we have our morning meal set before us,” Kuna offered. “Perhaps the little princess would like to say a blessing?”

“Thank you, I hope I do not disappoint,” I offered. I placed my front hooves together while casting my gaze downwards, and then went into the traditional Shinto prayer before starting a meal without a second thought. “Tanatsumono momono kigusamo amaterasu Hi-no-Ookami no Megami etekoso itadakimasu.” When I’d finished I made a polite bow and then looked up again.

And every pony is staring at me to include the servants standing by the door to the kitchen.

“Have I erred?” It’s at moments like this that Impostor Syndrome hits hard. Way back when I was a little filly I can’t say I paid much attention, and to be honest, I can’t as recall if I ever ate with the adults. And dining with Aunt Tia it was either a simple thank you for the food or chastisement of the nobility for not living up to their responsibilities. 

“You, you’re a priestess?” Kuna asked.

“I’ve had some introductory lessons,” I offered sheepishly. No, no, I’m not. Why would they think that just because; oh good grief the prayer is from Earth. “Nothing more I’m afraid.” Mom was giving me a funny look and then brightened when she realized where I might have picked up such knowledge. 

“Well, now that the formality is over with, shall we eat?” I asked.

“Yes, of course, let us partake,” Kuna offered. Before each of us was spread steamed rice, baked salmon, Shiro miso soup, rolled sweet omelet, hot tofu, and lightly pickled vegetables. The best part is that it wasn’t in excessive portions, but would be enough to satisfy.

The meal was eaten quietly with very little conversation. I couldn't help but wonder if this is what was considered casual. Unlike the Equestrian Nobles who often prattled on about absolutely nothing of consequence, the ponies of Neighpon were cautious of accidentally embarrassing someone by asking a question just as the pony was taking a bite. Politics and religion were off-limits. Granted that in Equestria the two were often one and the same. What was left was stories revolving around one’s own life and things they hoped to achieve. 

Mercifully the topic of this year’s Grand Galloping Gala came up.

“I’m predicting a most interesting time will be had this year,” I offered with a hint of mischief.

“Oh?” mom prompted.

“The element bearers will be there this year.”

“I’m afraid I don’t see how that’s going to affect the Gala?” Kuna asked.

“With the exception of Miss Twilight Sparkle, not a one knows how to conduct themselves at such an event,” mom provided.

“I predict that Twilight sparkle will be all but glued to Princess Celestia,” I provided. “Rarity, who by rights should have some idea how to behave herself will throw herself at Prince Blueblood…”

“It’s Lady Glory Rose she needs to throw herself at if she wants a piece of that stallion,” Mom quipped.

“I’ve got a feeling she doesn't know,” I provided and then continued. “Next we have Rainbow Dash, a Wonderbolt want-to-be and superfan. She’ll be more concerned with trying to impress the members of the Wonderbolts with her prowess than in demonstrating she knows how to behave at a posh event. We may wish to impart on the ponies who are doing the planning to make sure all decor is properly anchored. Now let's see, I expect Applejack will bring her street vendor cart.”

“Can she even do that?” Sakura asked.

“As a special guest of Princess Celestia, there’s no telling,” Mom offered. “I think a word to the guards might take care of that possibility. Place her where off-duty guards will have access and the caterers won’t know she’s there.”

“And that leaves Pinkie and Fluttershy,” I pronounced.

“Alright with Pinkie anything is possible,” Mom offered. “But Fluttershy?”

“The garden menagerie,” I provided. “Pinkie will undoubtedly try to turn the gala into a polka party and I’m predicting that Fluttershy will stampede the animals in the garden menagerie.”

“Fluttershy?” mom pressed.

“She’s only shy around ponies,” Scootaloo offered. “She can be downright pushy around non-ponies.”

“Sounds like it’s going to be a rather fun Gala this year,” Kuna offered with a mischievous smile. “And here I was thinking of sitting out this one.”