Cloud Walker marched down the hallway with Feather Quill in pursuit. Her golden shoes and royal dress left her feeling uncomfortable and ridiculous, just the opposite of the cool calm she’d need while she faced her successor.
She pushed the door open before one of the nearby guards could open it for her. The conference room beyond was, thankfully, much smaller than her bedroom. Cloudsdale’s new mayor, Iron Wing, was seated at one end of the long table. All of the other chairs had been cleared away, save one. Cloud Walker’s seat, a grand jewel-studded affair, was situated at the opposite end of the table from her single guest.
Iron Wing frowned at her and crossed his hooves. His grey coat and silver mane made him look like a storm cloud. “How kind of you to join me, Princess.”
She ran her tongue over her teeth to check for remnants of her hurried breakfast, and then put on the best smile she could.
“Mayor Iron Wing, I’m so glad that you’re here.”
“You’re five minutes late. That isn’t the ever-punctual Cloud Walker that Cloudsdale voted into the mayor’s office. If this is how you treat those beneath your station then perhaps its better that I’m taking over the reigns.”
Feather Quill, still standing in the doorway, let out a gasp. Cloud Walker could almost hear the bevy of reprimands and insults swirling inside her head.
“Feather Quill?”
“Yes, Princess?” She put a heavy emphasis on the second word.
“Move my chair.”
“What?”
“Move it to the far end of the table, next to the mayor’s. Then leave us, please.”
“Of course, Princess.”
A few awkward moments later, she and the mayor were seated on either end of the table corner in an otherwise empty room. The look he was giving her was a familiar one, his own special blend displeasure and smugness. She knew this stallion, and she knew him well.
“That, mayor Iron Wing, is how I treat all ponies; with individual attention and respect. Please extend me that same courtesy. I apologize for my lateness, the sheer number of new duties I have is taking some getting used to. I’m sure you’ve felt that same burden over the last week, what with being appointed mayor of Cloudsdale in my place, and on such short notice. Now let’s get this over with.”
A hint of a smile crept onto his face. “That’s more like it. There’s a little pegasus left in you after all.”
“I’m all pegasus, thank you. The horn is just for decoration. This is our last transition meeting before you’re on your own as the new mayor, what can I do for you?”
“I’ll be fine, Cloud Walker. I’m twice your age, and I’ve seen more in my time than you could possibly imagine. I can handle Cloudsdale.”
“Cloudsdale didn’t seem to think so in the last election. As I recall you lost to me by… what was it? Thirty percent?”
“Twenty five. If you’re still trying to stand behind that old slogan of yours–”
“A Pony Among Ponies was not just a slogan, and I don’t care if I was the youngest major in city history. I grew up in weather factory, and I still pride myself on knowing what the ponies of Cloudsdale really want and need.”
“Is that so? Well what can you possibly tell me now that you’re not even living there anymore? Face it, Cloud Walker, these transition meetings are joke. The only reason I agreed to show up was to keep the pegasi happy when their favorite mayor suddenly traded the clouds for a castle.”
She stomped a hoof on the ground. The sound echoed through the room and a cramp shot up her leg. “Enough. If you want to trade barbs, send me a postcard. Let’s just make the most of this. What are the most pressing concerns in the mayor’s office? It’s only been a week, I’m sure I can fill in some of the background information for you.”
“Fine. Cloud production is stalling because the workers are lazy, everypony’s whining about the spring Wonderbolt flyoffs getting pushed back a week, and the cumulous apartment development is being protested. What do you have to say about all that, Princess?”
She smiled. “Is that it?”
“Are you going to fill me in or not?”
“I shouldn’t need to, not if you’ve been paying attention.”
The smug grin on his face faltered. “How do you mean?”
“Like I said, I grew up on the weather factory floor. Cloud production isn’t stalled because the workers are lazy, they take immense pride in their work. The only thing they care more about is the thing that every pegasus cares about: the Wonderbolts. The biggest sporting event of the season just got pushed back a week, which means it occurs right in the middle of the spring storm cloud production rush; a quarter of the ponies in Cloudsdale are going to be working evening or night shifts, meaning they’ll miss the flyoffs completely. Production is slow because morale is shot. Either move the flyoffs back or declare a weather production holiday and things will be fine.”
She smiled as he stared at her, slack jawed. “Would you like me to write any of that down?”
“Hang on, I named three problems. You only hit the first two.”
“Oh, the cumulous apartments? Scrap them. Tear down whatever’s been built already and restore the clouds to their natural state.”
“What? Do you know how many bits have already been spent on–”
“They were wasted, mayor. You don’t have to work in the weather factory to know how special that tract of clouds is. Why do you think it’s remained undeveloped for fifty years?”
“…Well the expense of development–”
“It's completely irrelevant. Those clouds have been sitting there, untouched, because nopony’s been arrogant and stupid enough to do anything with them. That’s the spot where Cloudsdale was actually founded; the fancy plaque in the city square is just kept there so tourists can see it while they check out the shopping district. This isn’t in the school books, but just go and talk to some teachers and grandparents about what they believe. That’s where they take their classes on field trips, and that’s where they drag their grandchildren on family outings. We pegasi are a proud bunch, and we’ll fight tooth and tail to keep our heritage alive. Besides…”
She leaned closer and whispered. “It’d be a brilliant political move to lay all that out in a public speech and get the place declared a national park. Have one of your assistants send over the paperwork and I’ll push it through.”
His face went blank as he considered her words.
“Well then, it seems I owe you an apology.”
“No, you don’t. I know I seem different, sitting in Canterlot castle looking like I’m half unicorn. Just relax and listen to your Cloudsdale ponies. They’ll tell you everything you ever need to know about how to govern them.”
A smile spread across his face. “Tell that little assistant of yours that I kissed your shoe or something.”
“Hah. She’ll love that, but please don’t. These things hurt like crazy.”