Chapter 1: The Charity Auction
With a view out over the majority of the castle gardens, Princess Celestia’s office was in a prime position. It was her haven, into which she would retreat to work out the hours of the day, signing off on government resolutions, approving various reports and paperwork, and just making sure she was on top of everything going on in the wonderfully complex country that was Equestria.
Generally, that was the case at least. For it was a special time of year right about now, a time which was usually heralded by mountainous piles of flowery parchment and an equally massive ledger denoting the names of various dignitaries. Yes, it was Gala season again in Canterlot. And as usual, it was the job of the Princess to send out the invitations.
Sometimes, Celestia wondered why she didn’t just delegate this responsibility to one of the legions of functionaries that walked the halls of the castle. It got maddeningly repetitive at times: “Dear Earl X of Y, you and your household are cordially invited to attend this year’s Grand Galloping Gala, to be held on the night of April 5, at Canterlot Castle…” If all she had to do was send out that a few hundred times, she probably would get somepony else to do it. But no, every noble and his wife wanted something personal, which was why every year she had to dig through her address book again to try and remember precisely how Viscount such-and-such had gotten his title in the first place.
Write, check, fold, seal, stack, cross name off list. And so on it went. Every so often she would have to gaze out the window for a while to stave off the eye strain. It was a beautiful day out, and many members of the court were enjoying the garden, which had only recently been cleared of snow. The latest schedules from Cloudsdale reported that the spring rain season would be starting promptly next week, which meant that now was a fleeting opportunity to take in the sun. And here she was stuck with this work. Oh, the many sacrifices involved in accepting the mantles of responsibility.
Bringing her attention back to the list, Celestia let her eyes drift downwards nearer to the bottom edge, where six names had been recently added. They were not new names, indeed all six had been to the function two years ago, but their inclusion on the list this year had been a bit of a struggle to get through the planning committees. Now, in her personal opinion that year had been great fun, a fact which was due in no small part to their attendance. But then the bill for the repairs had landed in front of the eyes of those bureaucrats at the Exchequer, and tones had changed.
Celestia had dreaded that the following year might herald a return to the more orthodox affairs that the Canterlot high society seemed to prefer, and as it happened, she had been right on the money with that premonition. It had been a struggle to stay awake the whole night. Luckily, even the Gala planning committee could not refuse an invitation to a newly crowned Princess, so Twilight and company were indeed back on the list this time around.
She was just about to get back to work when a prim castle guard appeared in her doorway, waiting respectfully for her permission to speak. After being graced with a nod, he succinctly announced, “You have a visitor, Your Majesty.”
Celestia took a moment to tidy up the unruly assortment of papers on her desk, all the while trying to think of who this could be. Taking a deep breath to settle herself, she allowed the guard to usher the guest through the open doorway.
Celestia spent a few moments working the newcomer’s nondescript face through her normally infallible memory, but unfortunately to no avail. Dressed in a simple white collar, the grey mare wore a deadpan expression, accentuated by her lengthy eyelashes. “Your Majesty,” she said, bowing slightly in respect.
The Princess dismissed the guard, inviting the newcomer to take the open seat that stood just in front of her desk. On second glance, her face did appear vaguely familiar, although Celestia had seen many, many, faces in her time, so the same could likely be said for a great many of the ponies in the kingdom. The guest’s conservatively styled dark grey mane settled back in voluminous locks along the length of her neck, adding a very erudite air to her appearance. She seemed to radiate a rather… cultured aura, the sort of thing that would make her fit right into a city like Canterlot. “Good afternoon, Ms.?”
“Octavia,” the guest answered in an affected, upper-class accent.
“Ms. Octavia, welcome. Allow me to apologize if you had to wait. As you are well aware, there are many issues to which I must attend. However, as I’m sure you’ve heard, my office door is always open to my subjects. What seems to be the issue?”
Octavia shifted uncomfortably in her seat. It stands to note at this point that Celestia strove to maintain a standing policy of openness to the concerns of all of her subjects. It was an attempt to dispel that vague boundary of stateliness that always seemed to separate royalty from the masses. Thus, it was not uncommon at all for such informal appointments to be made. However, Celestia realized that her tone just now had been very clinical, more reminiscent of a doctor investigating a persistent headache than of a friend opening a conversation.
Celestia shook her head and let out a long sigh. Reclining now in her full-backed seat, she let a gentle smile come to her features. “Sorry, Octavia. It’s been a long day. Would you like something to drink perhaps?”
“Um, no, I’m fine actually,” came the reply, now slightly more relaxed, which would have to do, although the Princess sensed that this earth pony was one that never truly came all the way unwound. With a slight shot of magic, Celestia transformed her inkwell into a steaming mug of tea, and took a sip, letting the rich flavour wash away the stresses from her mind. Now she was ready for a truly informal conversation.
“So, Octavia, tell me what’s on your mind.”
The ice having been broken somewhat, it seemed that Octavia was ready to be a little more forthright in her intentions. “Well, you see Princess; the recent proposed budget included a great deal of new infrastructure spending in the country. Now don’t get me wrong, I quite appreciate that. The transportation system especially is quite in need of an overhaul. The problem is that in order to raise the funds, a number of cuts occurred, primarily in the arts…” She trailed off then, clearly uncertain of how to continue. The Princess had a marked reputation for her dislike of bureaucrats, lobbyists, and other opportunists that gummed up the works of the government. The air in the room seemed to drop by a few degrees in an instant, as much of the warmth drained from Celestia’s features. Perhaps this was why Octavia was so tense; she must have known that she was going to be waging an uphill battle.
Celestia kept on regarding her guest coolly, and took one more sip from her tea. In a calm voice, she answered, “Then you are here to lobby me for arts funding. Do you have a particular program of interest?”
“I have a number of friends on the Royal Canterlot Symphony Orchestra that tell me they are in rather dire financial straits due to the recent cuts, so I suppose I would most appreciate it if the money went to that program first.”
“You are aware that budgetary concerns are the domain of the Treasury, correct?”
Octavia was quick on the reply. “You hold an express veto over that committee, Your Majesty.”
“Hmm, that is correct. Odd to meet a lobbyist that’s actually done the proper homework. You’ll have to give me some time to think about this.” And Celestia settled down into a position of deep thought, her chin resting gently upon an upheld hoof.
The room was silent for a time, except for what noise came in through the open window. A slight breeze blew at the corners of the parchments arrayed across the Princess’ desk, setting Octavia’s mane aflutter. Celestia didn’t notice, instead looking intently off into the empty fireplace that occupied her office’s far wall. If the request had come from the usual consultant or lobbyist who occasionally knocked at her door, she wouldn’t have given it a second thought, but a personal request from an individual carried much more weight, at least in Celestia’s mind. It would be difficult, but she knew that she at least had to try.
The earth pony did appear a touch more nervous by the time Celestia looked back at her, but the Princess put on a warm smile in the hopes of assuaging her guest’s fears. “I understand, Octavia,” Celestia said. “It’s wonderful to see a pony come so far for something that they believe in, as opposed to doing it solely for the touch of gold. Money is tight, but I’m going to do everything that I can to help you.”
“Thank you, Your Majesty,” Octavia managed to state, although Celestia could tell that the news brought her great relief. As the guard escorted her guest again from the room, Celestia took another sip of tea to clear her own mind in preparation for this little challenge. True, ultimately the budget was her decision, but times were tight. Likely, funding could not be shifted without cutting something else. Defence, perhaps? Hmm, perhaps not. The hawks in the Treasury had been up in arms ever since that Changeling Affair last year. Foreign Policy? Not with the Equestria-Griffonia Free Trade Agreement about to be signed. Education? No, that money was earmarked for paying Twilight’s living expenses. The whole thing was a right mess, and Celestia knew that she needed somepony else’s advice if she was going to get anywhere.
Luckily, she did know of one such pony that she could talk to, and she was one that the Princess had really wanted to get back in touch with anyway, if only to check on how things were going up at the top of Equestria. And anything would be better than getting back to those mind-numbing invitations.
Setting up a two-way magical link took a little bit of time, but it wasn’t long before Celestia was seated opposite to her new Chancellor of the Exchequer, and her husband.
“Cadance, Shining, how is everything?” she began brightly.
The two ponies were seated together at a low table, upon which the link had been established. Both looked their usual heavenly selves, although perhaps just slightly wrinkled around the edges. But then, both of them had been exceedingly busy of late.
“Personally, or as regarding the operations?” Shining replied stolidly, having never quite gotten used to the idea that, as a member of the nobility, he was no longer at Celestia’s every beck and call.
“Hmm, both I guess,” Celestia replied with a chuckle. “Which is better?”
Shining exchanged a sheepish glance with his wife, the Princess of The Crystal Empire. “Ha, honestly, both of them,” he replied after a moment. “The team that you sent last month has nearly completed disenchanting the various vaults and dungeons beneath the city, so we can begin bullion deposits very soon. And the master dies are all properly made up and finished, so we expect the new Equestrian Mint to begin functioning in only a matter of months.”
“Perfect!” Celestia clapped her hooves together once. “I just knew that the two of you were the proper ponies to place in charge of that operation.”
“It’s amazing really,” Cadance put in. “The Crystal Empire was practically made to be a Mint. It’s isolated, secure, outsiders stand out like sore hooves, and it already contains the most protected vaults in Equestria! Honestly, how could the project not be going well?” She finished with a glance and giggle over towards her husband, who responded by embracing her tenderly with his right foreleg.
However, Shining then looked towards Celestia with a significantly more serious expression. “But that’s not why you called, is it Princess? Our operational briefs would have kept you up to date on the situation, and if you wanted to check up on us, you would have come personally. So what’s really the issue?”
Celestia was pleased that they could get right to the point. She positively loved Shining’s analytical streak; it had been wonderfully helpful when he had been her guard Captain, and would continue to aid him now that he was involved in the politics of the nobility. “Fine, it’s a money issue. We need to free up some funding for the arts. I’m deciding to make it a personal priority.”
“Hmm.” Cadance pulled some documents in from the side using her magic. “Government is very tight right now with the Mint in transition,” she said as she went over the figures. “We could divest some of the gold reserves.”
Shining had gone into full advisor-mode. “That would be unwise,” he cautioned. “If we dump our stocks, local prices will fall off parity with Griffonia, which would introduce complications in the trade discussions. The money will have to come from existing supplies.”
“Well, then the government will not be able to provide it unless we make some serious cuts,” the Chancellor of the Exchequer returned. “Or raise taxes, I suppose.”
Celestia shook her head dismissively on that suggestion. “No tax hikes. There’s got to be some other way.”
“Then that only leaves one option,” Shining stated. The two Princesses both looked away in unease, as both of them were aware of what he was going to say, but neither one was enthusiastic about the prospect. The air was still for a moment, as everyone present thought about the consequences.
“A private fundraiser,” Celestia finally admitted. It was a well-known fact that there were enough bits lining the pockets of Equestria’s elite to gold-leaf Canterlot Castle; the problem lay in convincing them to spend the money. It was an unfortunate consequence of the Equestrian divide between urban and rural: that the urbanites felt they required some measure of superiority to lord over the lower classes.
Then again, what with the Gala coming up, all the richest and most powerful ponies in Equestria would be together under one roof. If she could come up with a plan by then, it could be quite the success. But how? It was a puzzling question. Naturally, to wring money from ponies of quality, she would have to convince them to purchase something that they felt would offer them higher status in society. Perhaps something rare or unique would do the trick. Nobles were often drawn in by little artefacts and novelties that could adorn their mantles and bookcases, and become interesting conversation-pieces at cocktail parties.
Cadance had been coming to the same conclusions in her own mind at an equal pace, and she shared a nod with Celestia before announcing the answer: “A charity auction would be just the thing. You said it was arts funding we were after? Then it should be simple to theme the event after the specific program that is in need of the money.” She turned off-screen again to retrieve some more documents, and her prismatic streaked mane swished about in a dazzling dance of colors and hues.
In that instant, the answer clicked into place in Celestia’s mind. “That’s a perfect idea, Cadance,” she said immediately, now with much more enthusiasm. “And I already know what the centerpiece item is going to be. I’m going to need you in Canterlot in two days; I’ll explain why when you get here.” Noticing the nervous glance that passed between the two co-rulers, she added, “Don’t worry, Cadance. Shining will be quite capable of finishing up the project on his own. I’ll look forward to seeing you.”
“Of course,” Cadance replied with a little chuckle. “Same to you,” and she nodded once off-screen. With a flicker, the magical connection was severed, leaving Celestia once more alone in her office. But now the space felt much more alive, as the first inklings of a plan were beginning to filter their way through her mental machinery. Grabbing a new inkwell and some fresh sheets of parchment, the Princess swept everything else into its own little pile in the corner and took to sketching things out as they came to mind.
Motioning also to the guard just outside the door, she asked him to take down a message for her. “Schedule an appointment with my hairdresser two days from now.”
“Just for yourself, Your Majesty?”
Celestia smiled a rather mischievous little smile, and her eyebrows came together between her eyes to form two arms of a wide V. “No, tell him to make ready for three patrons. And they’ll all require the royal treatment.”
The heavy cover of Toadstools to Tadpoles: The Total Tome of Transmutation thudded decisively against the hewn hardwood of the desk as Twilight Sparkle opened up the thick text. Truthfully, she had found it rather difficult to concentrate on her studies these past few weeks. The entire year felt like it had been one gigantic whirlwind of activity, in keeping up with the goings-on around the country. There was so much extra responsibility that came with that title of “Princess”. Ponyville was more than just her home now; it was her workplace, her department of the government. If some journalist wanted to run an exposé on the region’s future development, she needed to be ready to provide any information that was required.
The new principality of Ponyville actually encompassed several other villages in the area, and the immediate weeks after Twilight’s coronation had been spent just travelling around getting to know all of her new subjects. Twilight had been so buried in the introductory material surrounding statecraft that Celestia had sent her that she had quite neglected her magical studies, a fact for which she was now most regretful. And so she had decided that this mid-March weekend was to be spent catching up on the missed material.
However, she had only been at her studies for a mere fifteen minutes when she heard the pattering footsteps of Spike coming up the stairs to her loft. Once the young dragon had crested the ascent, he spoke in a clear voice. “Twilight, we need to talk.”
It was an unusually blunt preamble for her trusted aide, so Twilight closed the book and gave Spike her full attention. Naturally these past few weeks had been trying for him as well; he had been forced to adopt the responsibilities that came with shepherding a Princess through her schedule, in addition to the usual moral and material support. Princess Celestia had a whole army of secretaries and courtiers involved in keeping her schedule straight. Nonetheless, the young dragon had proved admirably versatile. Today Spike looked a little the worse for wear: his usually bright, wide eyes were drooped slightly and his posture evoked none of its usual energy.
“Twilight, do you remember that check-list of items that Celestia sent us a few weeks ago, on the things the peerage expects of its newest members?”
“Of course I do, Spike. We went through it last week.” The list had been primarily trivial, common-sense actions; the sorts of things one would usually do upon joining an exclusive club or society.
“I’ve realized since then,” he continued, “that #7 was likely a poor choice.”
Twilight thought back to the list quickly. “The nobility’s bulk mailing list? But it’s essential for keeping up with the rest of the country.”
The dragon opened up his mouth to make a response, but it was replaced by an agonized grimace. Immediately afterwards, a sealed parchment escaped his mouth along with a jet of green flame and a colossal belch. With a look of exasperated exhaustion, he fainted over backwards.
Tentatively, Twilight picked up the letter. The blue seal she immediately recognized as belonging to the Equestrian postal service: a sealed envelope that had sprouted two wings at its corners and was en route to its intended destination. But this letter also had a small constellation of stars at its corner, indicating it had originated from a department with which she was not familiar. The two of them had been getting a great deal of mail from all around Equestria since subscribing to the mailing list.
The lettering had been typed, and the message was short and to the point. Twilight read it out loud: “Notification to all recipients: Beginning tonight at midnight, the Equestrian magical message delivery service will be undergoing scheduled maintenance and upgrades, and will be unavailable to all users for an estimated two days. Couriers will be made available to despatch urgent communiqués as needed. We apologize for the inconvenience. Please do not reply to this message. From: The Equestrian Information Services Team.”
“Hmm,” Twilight muttered to herself. Admittedly, though the quantity of their mail had shot up substantially since connecting to the greater Equestrian peerage, she couldn’t quite say the same for the letters’ quality. Downstairs, Spike had been forced to begin cataloguing the letters into separate bins, so that urgent messages relating to meetings wouldn’t end up alongside some random Baron bragging about his new carriage.
In fact, the whole of the library was in a state of disarray, owing to the necessary documents and instructional guides that Celestia had sent over. The Mayor had even gone so far as to offer her a more functional space in Town Hall from which to administer the region, but Twilight preferred to work from home. The space felt a good deal cozier than a sterile office ever would, and Twilight didn’t like to think that too much had changed since that crown had been dropped onto her head.
On the floor, Spike was coming to again. “I get the feeling,” he said woozily, “that the rest of the nobility probably has other ways of getting their mail. They don’t seem to understand the repercussions –” here he coughed twice “– of flooding our inbox.”
“It’s just something that we’ll have to get used to, Spike, just like all the rest of this,” Twilight answered, sweeping a hoof out over the piles of parchment and books that covered the library. Admittedly the place had seen worse in her memory, but this time there was no indication that things were going to get better anytime soon. “At least at midnight you’ll be getting a break. The IST admins are taking the whole magical network down for maintenance.”
That news was enough to get Spike back up to his feet. “Great, I could use the rest. Oh, and I almost forgot. These came for you as well.” He proffered up six parchments, each sealed with a bright red dollop of wax, and imprinted with the unmistakable ridges of the Great Seal of Equestria. These Twilight grabbed immediately, magically unrolling each and scanning them quickly.
“Dear Princess Twilight Sparkle of Ponyville, you are cordially invited to attend this year’s – Yes!” Twilight threw up both forelegs and danced a little jig of glee; a rather undignified display for a Princess, but certainly not something that a crown and a pair of wings were going to get rid of anytime soon.
Leaving Spike still getting his bearings, Twilight dashed to her calendar. The Gala was in two weeks (odd, she seemed to remember getting her invitations much earlier last time around) which meant that they only had a small amount of time in which to prepare. But first things first: she had to tell all of her friends the news. Arriving at the front door, she turned to call back to Spike, who was still coming down the stairs slowly. “Spike, I’m going out to tell all of our friends that we’re going to the Gala again this year. Then I think I might spring by Rarity’s to see if our dresses are still in good condition. Just take a rest while I’m out…” she trickled off at the end, noticing that her assistant was no longer anywhere to be seen. Glancing through the doorway, she found him standing there impatiently. That bright spark was back in his complexion.
“How did you even get outside?” she asked with a cock of the head.
Spike did not reply, instead just turning square on his heel and marching straight off in the direction of Rarity’s. With a roll of her eyes, Twilight followed.
Just as Twilight arrived at Rarity’s residence, the white unicorn was standing outside, hanging a “Back in 45 minutes” sign over the front door. When she spied her approaching friends, she trotted out to meet them on the path. “Twilight, Spike! So wonderful to see you. I was just going out to grab a light lunch. Care to join me?”
“Sorry, Rarity, but I already ate actually. I was preparing for a big afternoon of studying. But thanks for the offer anyway.”
“Well, no problem, we can certainly walk together anyway,” Rarity said as the two began a casual walk towards the commercial district in the center of town, with the dreamy-eyed Spike in tow. “But if you were prepared to study, then what are you doing here?”
“Actually, Rarity, I’m glad that you asked that. I have some marvelous news. Spike, could you give Rarity her copy of the letter?” Twilight did not need to look behind her to see if the dragon would complete the task; naturally he was already formally bowed low, presenting the parchment as though it were a priceless treasure.
With only the barest hint of humor, Rarity took the letter and unrolled it. “Hmm… I see… Indeed….” she muttered as she read over the address, then calmly dropped it back into Spike’s waiting hands. She appeared to have taken the news quite in stride, and it left Twilight momentarily surprised, even a little concerned.
“Umm, Rarity, you’re okay, right? I mean, that was an invitation to the Grand Galloping Gala. That’s kind of a big deal, isn’t it? Especially after their refusal to invite us back last year.”
Rarity chuckled. “Oh Twilight, please. One simply does not refuse an invitation to a sitting Princess. Naturally I expected that something like this would be on its way soon enough. Your new dress is already finished, by the way.” The unicorn then continued walking up the street, leaving her friend stunned momentarily by the roadside. To be true, one would think that she would be used to Rarity’s selfless generosity by now, but this news was so unexpected that Twilight felt it deserved an explanation.
“Rarity, wait!” she called out, running back up abreast with her friend once more. “Thank you, obviously, but what was wrong with the old dress? It was perfect, wasn’t it?”
“Again, Twilight, please,” Rarity replied without losing a single stride. “That dress was perfect for the Twilight of two years ago: an individual making a splash in high society. A Princess does not need to make a splash, and indeed should not. Your name will precede you now, and it is most imperative that you leave the proper impression. There are forms to be observed among the nobility.”
At this point the pair had reached the dining district of town, which was really just a single intersection, with Sugarcube Corner now on their right and the café, presumably Rarity’s destination, just across the road. As they approached the crossing, Twilight felt the impact of her friend’s words settle into her mind. She certainly hadn’t been expecting something like this. Rarity had to be overreacting. “Rarity, don’t you think that you might be making a bit too big of a deal out of this? I mean, it’s not going to be any more special than it was the first time, isn’t it?”
Rarity stopped and looked very intently into her friend’s eyes. Her voice emerged very level and serious. “This Gala is your debut for the nobility, Twilight. It is infinitely more than it was before; it is where your reputation will be evaluated and decided upon.” And then, the unicorn was herself again, smiling lightly as she turned to cross the street. “But don’t worry yourself over it. I’ll make all of the arrangements.”
Twilight was left standing alone on the street corner, trying to get her head around this latest salvo in her title’s ongoing war with her past life. Perhaps in retrospect she should have realized that her interactions with greater society were never going to be the same again. Gone were the days that she could be anywhere near Canterlot without a crowd of observers and hangers-on watching her every move. Thank goodness that the citizens of Ponyville had taken it upon themselves to make the transition as smooth and pain-free as possible, or else it could have easily become quite overwhelming.
But Twilight Sparkle was not one to back away from a challenge. She would face this new test just as she had all the others which had led to this moment. It was an unfortunate thing to have to leave behind so much of what she was used to, to have to act like a completely different pony when among her colleagues in the nobility. But Rarity was right. There were traditions and forms that she would now have to conform to, unspoken rules that would govern her every action from this point onwards. If society expected her to act like a Princess, then Her Highness Princess Twilight Sparkle of Ponyville, was going to do all that she could to live up to their expectations.