Sunset Shimmer wants to become an alicorn. The newest Princess, Cadance, obviously knows how to become one. There's only one answer: seduction.
Sunset Shimmer wants to become an alicorn more than anything - it's the entire reason why she's Princess Celestia's student. But she's run out of ways to research it and Princess Celestia has blocked her at every turn.
Fortunately for her, there's a new Princess on the block - Cadance. One who's already ascended. One who knows personally and intimately how she did it.
To get her to talk, Sunset will do anything. Even if it means pretending to like - really like - the Pink Pony Of Passion.
That lemon juice word roiled through Sunset Shimmer, curdling every emotion it came in contact with.
Not that there was anything sour about the cotton-candy filly in front of her - gawky and gangly, bashful and hopeful, lost and lonely - but that one word from Celestia made Sunset want to vomit. Like a pile of iron filings, the magnetic word had every iota of Sunset's being drawn towards this Cadance with a singular hatred.
Of course, Princess Celestia smiled blithely, missing the entire thing.
The younger alicorn - alicorn! - was more cognizant of Sunset's incredulous glare, eyes downcast and clumsily trying to hide within herself rather than face the withering hate that poured from Sunset.
Celestia kept talking, explaining Cadance's circumstances and background, but Sunset wasn't listening. (Actively, at least - she'd long since learned how to listen and file away information while her concentration was elsewhere. It wouldn't do to miss key points, but planning also required time and there were always adaptations that had to be done on the fly.) While Celestia proceeded with the gormless introduction, Sunset's mind was set to other things. More important things. It was already obvious how Cadance had been gifted everything Sunset had ever wanted - the smile on Celestia's face as she blathered filled in the lines between the words. Here was a nopony from nowhere who had earned nothing, and Celestia loved her. She'd made the nopony an alicorn and a princess and family in the span of hours after discovering her. Meanwhile Sunset's years of work still left her relegated to 'my brilliant student'; still had her alone at night; still kept her on the outside.
Silently, Sunset searched for a word stronger than hate.
Cadance's wide eyes kept flicking back to Sunset when she thought the unicorn wasn't paying attention, searching to try and find an emotion on the unicorn's face that matched the aura of rage. There was none, because years of being Celestia's student had taught Sunset well in hiding her frustrations and anger. And without those, she felt nothing.
"--And then she became an alicorn!"
Sunset's attention snapped back when Celestia said those words. "Became?" The brilliant student's light focused to a laser. "You're saying you didn't make her one?"
"Harmony made her one," solemnly intoned Princess Celestia in the most sickening way possible.
She'd caught it, though. That first 'became' instead of 'made' changed everything. It told where the power lay, and that was always something that grabbed Sunset's interest. Celestia hadn't made the alicorn - Cadance had made herself one.
The Princess continued on as if nothing of importance had happened, but Sunset knew better. Celestia had made a mistake - she'd let slip crucial information by accident and was trying to pretend it was inconsequential. But it had been said, and Sunset's mind was already working overtime with it.
It was possible to become an alicorn without Celestia's aid or permission. Which in turn meant that Sunset could become one even though Celestia kept refusing her. Sunset didn't need Celestia anymore - not if she found out how Cadance did it.
She didn't need Celestia.
Those four words rocked Sunset's world, her head swimming with how much of her life that changed. Years of assumptions flipped on their ear in an instant.
Princess Celestia didn't notice. As usual.
"--So I'm hoping that the two of you will be able to help each other," blathered the Princess. "I think that together, each of you can compliment the other's strengths. Don't you agree, Sunset?"
"...Yes." Sunset hesitated because Celestia would have expected her to hesitate. If she was too eager, Celestia would realize something was up. Sunset couldn't allow that - not when she finally had an opening. Now was the time to play things conservatively and avoid revealing what she knew.
She might not need Celestia, but that didn't mean Celestia couldn't be an obstacle.
Still, Sunset couldn't help but smile, even if it was mostly to herself. "Yes, Princess Celestia. I understand. I'm sure that she's got a lot to offer me."
Dinner that evening was a fine something something with a side of whatever, Sunset didn't really care. It was tasty enough, but her mind was elsewhere. Sustenance was taken in while she hawkishly watched every move that Cadance made. (Sunset would not associate the title with that pink moron. She'd sooner watch Discord bowl with the moon than think it.)
Observing Cadance's movements throughout the meal was enlightening - for starters it was obvious she had no idea how to behave in polite company. Half the time she didn't even look at a pony when she was being spoken to, instead quietly staring at her plate. She was also a pegasus for certain, as a simple request to pass the salt had her rudely reaching with a wing rather than her magic like any sensible unicorn would.
But most enlightening was how every time Sunset spoke - even to ask for the salt - Cadance flinched. Just being in the same room as each other for two hours and barely exchanging words had already instilled fear into the pink pretender.
All Sunset needed was an opening where they were alone and Cadance would fold. Sunset would have her answers in mere minutes.
Meekly, Cadance pushed her chair back. "Um, I need to use the filly's room, please. Maybe could somepony--"
Sunset's chair scraped as it flew backwards. "I'll show her." Celestia's questioning eyebrow was met by Sunset's indifferent shrug. "The faster she gets back, the faster we have dessert." It was a weak excuse, but Celestia was dumb enough to buy it. A nod giving them both leave - and Sunset had her opening.
No words were exchanged for two hallways worth of trotting - Sunset to get out of Celestia's earshot and Cadance out of apparent fear for her companion. Their first direct exchange, in fact, was Sunset motioning at the door. "In here." Then she stood back with amusement as Cadance fumbled at the knob with her wing.
Sunset bided her time until she was certain Cadance was fully occupied before leaning against the door to prevent escape. There was no chance Cadance knew how to teleport, so it was the only way out. "So," she drawled to her trapped prey, "We should get to know each other, shouldn't we."
Hesitation. Cadance's first response was a dull croak before she cleared her throat. "I, um, yes? I--I guess we should?"
"You're Princess Celestia's new pet project." Sunset put extra emphasis on 'pet'. "Did she tell you yet what she wants to do with you?"
The barb must have dug deep, as Cadance's reply was slow. "No? She was just crying a lot when she found me. Happy tears!" The clarification was fast - almost panicked. "We talked a bit, but most of what she said is that she needed to teach me how to be a princess."
Sunset had to put effort into not gagging. "And just what does that entail? Hm?"
"Well, magic for one." That part was eager to Cadance's lips - and something Sunset could understand. The prospect of having true magic was a dream for most feather-heads, so why wouldn't she be excited? "And some lessons about government and history. Oh! And etiquette."
Unable to hold herself back entirely, Sunset snorted. "Yeah, you could obviously use those."
The strike drove Cadance to sullen silence again.
With a sigh more internal than aloud, Sunset pushed to get her talking again. "Besides the magic and the etiquette, is she setting you up for any other classes? Like basic math or literacy? I'm sure that whatever backwater you're from doesn't have the same kind of education you get here in Canterlot."
"Um, Florentina. That's the name of the village I'm from."
Sunset scowled. "Yeah, sure, not the question I asked."
On the other side of the door, Cadance audibly cringed. "Sorry. I-- She didn't mention anything about that. Maybe I'll have to? I don't know. I thought I was okay with maths but you're right. This is Canterlot." Her voice hitched. "I'm in Canterlot. I'm in the Palace." Awe crept in. "This is really happening, isn't it?"
"What, you thought this was a dream?" Sunset scoffed at the door.
Behind it, Cadance was hyperventilating. "Yes? I mean, it's all so much! Two days ago I was just afraid because nopony in my village seemed to care about each other anymore! Now I'm... I'm all of this!" Her voice, rife with panic, rose to a fever pitch as she stretched out desperately for help. "Was it anything like this for you when you arrived?"
The first response was a low growl before Sunset could find her words. "My arrival was nothing like yours. I earned my way into the Palace. I got here through my blood, sweat and brains. What did you do to get here?" Maybe not the smoothest opening to the interrogation, but Cadance didn't sound like she was emotionally stable and Sunset's temper was already heating. A quick jab might be just enough to end things quickly.
"I... I don't know," Cadance admitted shakily. "I don't think what I did was this special." The doorknob rattled as she tried to open it - and found the door blocked by Sunset's weight. "Huh?"
Sunset leaned harder and clamped down on the knob with her magic. "Nuh uh. You're not going anywhere until you answer my question. One thing you need to learn about living here is that when I ask you something, you had better answer."
Just that little bit was enough to send Cadance's already ragged nerves over the edge. "I don't know! What do you want me to say? It really wasn't anything--" The door rattled uselessly as she tried to escape, pitting her feeble wings against Sunset's weight and magic. "Please, I don't understand what you want! Auntie Celestia--"
Any plan Sunset had evaporated in a burst of rage as she saw red. "Don't you dare! Don't ever EVER call her that, you pathetic little--"
"SUNSET SHIMMER."
Sunset froze as the Royal Canterlot Voice boomed from behind her.
"Just what do you think you're doing?" The Princess' question was nothing of the sort - she could see at a glance what was happening, even if she couldn't possibly know why. Her golden magic enveloped Sunset, pulling her away from the door effortlessly and freeing Cadance. The youngest alicorn came tumbling out of the bathroom as the door abruptly opened, landing in a bubblegum-colored heap at her aunt's golden horseshoes. Fell violet eyes looked first to make sure her new charge was unharmed - then turned coldly to her student. "Care to explain yourself, Sunset Shimmer?"
The two stared each other down - one The Unconquered Sun, ruler of Equestria for a thousand years, vanquisher of Discord and of the Nightmare. The other, a teenage filly with a brilliant mind, a fiery temper and an ego to match. Their eyes locked, neither willing to blink or flinch away as the temperature in the hallway started to creep higher. Then Sunset ended their battle by striking a single decisive blow.
"No."
She turned on her frog and walked away, leaving one furious Princess and a second distraught one in her wake.
It wasn't until Sunset was back in her room that her nerves caught up with her and she dropped onto her bed, shaking.
The battle had ended in a loss, but the war continued to rage on. (Sunset knew full well that this was only the latest exchange between herself and Celestia as they fought over her rightful ascension - a polite war waged over tea, but war none the less.) Fortunately, Sunset knew where she had gone wrong: cornering Cadance had been rash. It had been a golden opportunity - promptly wasted because she had charged in without a plan.
That wasn't a mistake she would repeat.
Princess Celestia's actions had made clear that she wouldn't sit back and let Sunset find what she wanted. She knew that Sunset knew Cadance had the knowledge to become an alicorn - and she couldn't let Sunset get it. But now Sunset knew that Celestia knew she knew. Another move in their little bloody game. Another convoluted tangle as she fought against divinity itself. But her real opponent wasn't Celestia anymore. It was Cadance. Celestia would assuredly interfere, but it didn't matter if Sunset beat the Princess anymore - she just had to beat sad little Cadance.
Now, an alicorn was not something to underestimate. Even one as brand new as Cadance was still an alicorn and by virtue of that one of the most powerful beings in the world.
Fortunately Sunset Shimmer knew even without wings of her own, she was on that list too. And that she had brains as well as power.
The paper had the basics laid out - just as she was laid out on her bed working on it. Stray droplets of ink had already stained her bedsheets, but that wasn't a concern. The servants would take care of it, so why should Sunset worry? She had bigger things to deal with.
Starting from the top of the page, she reviewed her master plan.
Step 1: Observe and analyze target's capabilities
That was crucial. As an alicorn, Cadance had immense raw power and access to basically any spell she wanted, in addition to the tricks related to her mark that were more instinctual. She might not know the basics of how to cast yet but that didn't preclude learning, and Cadance's unknown background could hold any number of surprises beyond raw magic. Without keeping aware of her capabilities, the rest of the plan - any plan - was going to be a constant scramble to keep ahead of her, if not doomed from the outset. Knowledge was victory.
Step 1a: Convince Celestia to let me tutor Cadance in magic
It was so simple. Celestia would leap at the chance for Sunset to take extra responsibility and to fob off the actual work of teaching Cadance to somepony else. And as part of it, Cadance would have to tell Sunset all of her strengths and what she could do. And it meant that Sunset could purposely leave gaps in Cadance's knowledge to be exploited later. It was nearly foolproof.
Step 2: Establish rapport with target
That step, Sunset dismissed immediately as simple. 1a's approach made it assured - she would be dealing with Cadance on a frequent basis and usually one on one. As long as Sunset didn't insult her too often, Cadance would naturally come to consider Sunset at least a close colleague and ally.
Thinking about it a little deeper, Sunset un-dismissed it. Hanging around Cadance for that long and not yelling at her was probably easier said than done. There was no way to fully restrain the raw anger she felt for the younger alicorn, so keeping it at least partially in check was going to be the real challenge. If that could be done, Cadance was hapless enough to fall in line.
Step 3: Establish friendship
It would be the critical point - bridging the gap from 'associate' to 'friend'. Convincing Cadance that she liked Sunset was just as important as faking liking Cadance in return. Gifts would probably be the easiest way to do it. Maybe going a few places together. But it would be dicey - Sunset would have to hold her tongue to not chase Cadance away.
It would also hinge on being just hostile enough, as well. Cadance was sure to hear stories of Sunset from the rumor-mongering palace staff and the even more gossip-hungry nobles. Sunset knew she hadn't made many allies among either group, so those stories were certain to paint her in a poor light. Giving Cadance the full force of Sunset's charms would stand out like the markings on a poisonous frog. Subtle was going to have to be the name of the game.
Perhaps the part that frustrated her the most was how making this part of the plan work required a skill set that Sunset had never bothered to develop before: being friendly.
Sunset didn't feel particularly bad about that, though. It's not like she'd need those skills again after it was all done. The entire event just demonstrated that there was a niche for anything and friendship had simply found a corner case to work in, much like those strange undersea things that lived exclusively inside boiling-hot thermal vents.
Step 4: Use established relationship with target to gather information about her history
Becoming an alicorn was obviously a complex, difficult task. If Sunset was going to succeed without Celestia - and she would - she needed every little detail. Once Cadance's guard was down, she was sure to share everything with her 'friend'. A mental step 4a was to develop a list of just what to ask since any tiny part of Cadance's past could be a contributing factor.
Step 5: Ascend
That step, at least, was obvious.
After that the plan got fuzzy - Sunset knew the first thing she had to do once she had her wings was confront Princess Celestia. How that went would determine things going forward, because there was a world of difference between Celestia admitting her errors and giving Sunset what she deserved and Celestia losing her mind in a fit of rage that she'd been defied. The second was a lot more problematic but Sunset felt she was pretty good at teleportation and shields.
Looking over the outlined plan again, Sunset nodded to herself. Yes. It was sufficient. There were a few gaps she didn't like, but those were fixable with a bit of study and mostly reliant on information she didn't know yet. And the rest was solid, provided nothing crazy happened like Princess Celestia suddenly gaining a heart.
Satisfied, Sunset lit her horn and incinerated the paper to destroy the evidence.
One of the toughest steps of the plan was the very first one.
After the day before, there was only one way for Sunset to get her hoof in the door.
"I'm sorry."
The words came out like bad oatmeal, which is probably why Princess Celestia didn't understand them. Or maybe it was how unfamiliar she was with hearing Sunset's voice form those strange syllables.
It was brunch in the south atrium and Sunset was interrupting them. She hadn't been invited to the meal - nor to breakfast with the Princess, a sure sign of Celestia's displeasure - but that minor detail was hardly enough to stop her.
Sunset Shimmer straightened her neck, staring at a point just above Celestia's head. "I came to say I'm sorry. To you and to Cadance."
One of Celestia's eyebrows rose. "And just what, specifically, are you apologizing to Princess Cadance for?"
It was difficult for Sunset not to scoff at the title - but she held her poker face. "I wanted to know more about her, but I did it the wrong way and I was too aggressive. I'm sorry that I made her feel uncomfortable and I'll try to be kinder next time."
Celestia accepted that with a nod - then motioned with her head to the other princess. "Now perhaps you should say it to her rather than me."
Sunset's teeth ground against each other hard enough to spark.
Fortunately, Cadance's more naïve soul intervened with a raised wing. "It's alright. I heard her and I accept the apology. There's no need to draw it out." The olive branch - thorn-wrapped as it was - seemed to work. Cadance had a little smile on her lips and seemed to be mollified.
For a moment, Celestia considered pressing the subject - before giving another small but grudging nod. But her own words weren't done. "Sunset Shimmer. I know you are used to having a great deal of leeway within the Palace and that your status as my personal student gives you quite a lot of unofficial authority. At the same time I remind you that Princess Cadance is not only new to Canterlot, but that she is going through a very tumultuous time in her life. There is quite a lot for her to adjust to, and I will deeply appreciate you giving her the time and the space to do so." Her eyes narrowed - just slightly. "Do you understand?"
"Perfectly." Sunset put on her best wide, fake smile.
Celestia nodded firmly and turned back to her brunch as she mentally dismissed Sunset.
Sunset failed to leave. In fact, she cleared her throat to pull the attention back.
Celestia didn't turn her head, but she did let out a slight weary sigh.
"Actually, I wanted to help."
And those words made Celestia cringe as she remembered that on the rare occasions Sunset Shimmer had spoken them, experience had proven it was all but certain that chaos was coming in their wake.
But Sunset was undeterred by that history. "Look, Cadance and I are going to have to learn how to deal with each other. I can give her space, but we both still live here and we're both going to be around you a lot." Admitting it was a sharp sliver in Sunset's heart. "I'll admit I came on too strong last night, but I still want to get to know her. I don't like it, but even I can admit reality." That was a lie, of course. "Let me make it up to her."
The frowning Celestia still hadn't turned to look.
Sunset shifted gears, turning her attention to Cadance - the softer target. "Let me make it up to you."
There was a moment's hesitation as Cadance's instincts warred with the look on Celestia's face. But Cadance gave in - just like Sunset hoped she would. "Make it up how?"
"Magic." Sunset yanked the hook to set it. "You don't have any idea how to use yours, I'm the best in Equestria and you'll never survive in Canterlot if you can't even keep a wineglass steady." She took a step towards the table - towards Cadance. "You need the help. I can give it to you, and all I'm asking in exchange is the chance to get to know you better."
Another hesitation - Cadance looked to Celestia for a judgement. But the Princess remained silent, expression neutral. Left adrift, Cadance went with her gut. "I think that sounds like a great idea, Sunset. As long as I get to know you while you get to know me."
"Awesome." Sunset reached out with her magic and grabbed a french toast stick off of Cadance's plate. "Let me know when you've got an opening in your schedule so we can get started." And with the sweet taste of victory - as well as some stolen food - Sunset sauntered out of the atrium.
Princess Celestia still hadn't said a word or even looked towards Sunset. This battle in their war had ended, and the tide had shifted back.
Sunset Shimmer's room was not a welcoming place - by design. She didn't want visitors, and the maids were encouraged to do their job and evacuate as quickly as possible.
For starters, the room was in a perpetual state of twilight: Sunset had long since demanded blackout curtains on all the windows to shut out the watchful eye of Celestia's sun. She had also gone out of her way to remove anything even vaguely comfortable for a second pony to sit on - she had one chair, a quilt on her bed made out of the itchiest possible wool (that she put on when she wasn't sleeping), and three tables each at a carefully chosen height and position so the corners would dig into the hip of any pony that leaned against them. A classical painting hung on either side of the fireplace - one of Starswirl the Bearded and the other of Princess Platinum. Both had been enchanted so their illusory eyes would follow anypony in the room other than Sunset. And as a finishing touch? Sunset had enchanted the room to be extremely low humidity - ostensibly to help with the preservation of old manuscripts and scrolls. And while she had her own reserve of drinks hidden away, all she publicly had to offer visitors was cilantro tea.
She had considered adding caltrops around the doorway, but that had struck Sunset as both overkill and irritating to clean up afterwards. (And it would be her cleaning it up - from past experience, caltrops were very firmly outside of maid responsibilities.)
It would also have been a problem in this case, as for perhaps the first time? Sunset had invited another pony into her room.
Owlishly, Cadance blinked as she took in the space. "It certainly is..." She hesitated, eyes scanning over everything. "Stoic."
Sunset snorted, already monopolizing the only chair. "Forgive me for not being bright and cheery. I take my time under Princess Celestia seriously."
"Still, I'm surprised. Fillies our age usually have a bit more decoration." Cadance squinted at the painting of Princess Platinum, gauging the eyes. "No band posters? No mementos from foalhood? Not even a potted plant?"
Our of sheer reflex, Sunset growled. "I thought you came here for lessons in magic, not to question my decorating choices."
And the cruel undertone was shrugged off immediately. "I'm just curious, that's all. I want to get to know you, too."
"All you need to know right now," Sunset fired back, "Is that you're going to listen to my instructions or you're going to keep opening doors with your wing forever."
Another blink from Cadance. "And that's... bad?" She reflexively looked at her wing and then at the door behind her.
Sunset rolled her eyes. "Yes."
With an actual flare of mild sarcasm, Cadance snapped a salute with her wing.
Ignoring that irritating resistance, Sunset got to work. She lifted a thin metal and crystal probe off her desk, holding it at the ready. "Alright, we'll start with the very basics. Light your horn and let's get a read on how much thaumatic output you've got. At least then I'll know what we're working with."
Cadance's pink cheeks got pinker. "I, um. And... how do I do that?"
Sunset's head made a rather satisfying thunk against the desktop.
It had taken nearly an hour to teach Cadance how to light her horn.
"From the top," Sunset instructed wearily.
Cadance set her hooves apart, taking a wide stance that was completely unnecessary. "Right. First, clear my mind of all outside thoughts so I can concentrate."
"Which should be easy." Sunset couldn't help but snark a little.
"Second," Cadance continued, ignoring Sunset, "I tense the appropriate muscle."
That drew a sigh from Sunset, who - after an hour - no longer could bring herself to explain that the adeno-cornus was not a muscle but a stretch of synaptic tissue bridging the gap between brain and horn. That fight was long since lost. It worked for the world's dumbest alicorn and that was good enough for now.
Cadance's entire face was scrunched up like she had just eaten a half-dozen lemons. "Third, push." And she did, tipping her body slightly forward as she tried to shove her brain out through her horn. It was an obvious struggle, but after a few seconds Cadance managed to form a thin single corona of pale blue. It vanished moments later when Cadance stopped straining with a gasp, but it was enough for her to shoot a victorious, gleaming smile at Sunset.
The unicorn remained unamused. "Congratulations, you've successfully done what most foals can do at birth. Next we'll work on potty training."
With a pouty moue, Cadance harumphed. "I've had a horn for less than a week. I think I'm doing okay." She paused. "But maybe we could take a quick break? I'm really thirsty."
The devil sparked in Sunset's eyes. "Yeah, sure." She turned away, lighting a small magic burner to heat the teapot. "You're going to need to keep doing that, though. Eventually you'll stop having to concentrate to light your horn, and it'll become reaction."
"Like muscle memory for flying," Cadance theorized.
The comparison to having wings made Sunset glower slightly. "Yeah. Muscle memory. That's when we can start working on real spells. Until then you won't even manage the basics like levitation. You'll never be able to form complex thaumatic equations in your head if it's taking all of your little brain to form a simple aura."
Cadance shifted on her hooves, eyes casting about in vain for a place to sit. "Look, Sunset, I--" She frowned a little and changed tack even before starting. "Have I said thank you yet for volunteering to help me with this? I know you said you did it because you wanted to know more, but I still really appreciate it."
The tea warmed, Sunset poured out a cup. "I know you do." Taking a deep sniff, she passed the steaming teacup over.
There was a brief hesitation as Cadance took the cup in her wings. Then, lacking a better place, she sat down in the middle of the floor.
Sunset immediately started reconsidering the caltrops. She hadn't anticipated the floor as seating. Nopony with self-respect would do that - that was for animals.
Cadance saw none of the twisting expression and thought nothing of where she was seated. She was too busy making her own disgusted face at the taste of the tea. "This is certainly, um, different."
"Cilantro," Sunset pointed out, eager to take control back. "Lots of good vitamins and it promotes a healthy heart." It also tasted like warm soap to a significant percentage of ponies.
Another sip. Cadance smiled a smile that didn't go below the surface. "That's very mindful of you."
Sunset dismissed the thin compliment. "Being Princess Celestia's student is tough. I have to keep at the top of my game for everything, and I'm not going to lose because of a blood pressure spike. I'm no charity case."
There was silence for a moment before Cadance filled in the blank Sunset had left. "Like me."
Her response was a shrug. "I didn't say that."
"But you implied it," Cadance countered.
Sunset shrugged again. She had thought it.
Deeply sighing, Cadance set the still mostly full teacup on the nearest painfully-angled table. "Sunset, I understand that this is a big change for you. But I swear I'm not trying to make your life difficult - it's just that everything is so new to me that--"
"Save it." Sunset savagely cut Cadance's whining apology off. "It doesn't matter what you're trying to do, just what you are doing. Saying you didn't mean to steal something doesn't make you less guilty."
Cadance flinched. "You... you think I'm stealing from you?"
She didn't get an answer, which was as far as Sunset could restrain herself.
Silence lapsed between them - awkward and heavy. Sunset silently cursed her own anger getting the better of her. So while it hurt her ego, she held out an olive branch for the sake of her plan.
"Look," she tentatively ventured, "I won't pretend I'm happy about this. And right now, I don't like you. But..." Sunset swallowed her pride. "We can work on that?"
It was a tiny concession, but enough for Cadence to latch on to. Hard. Instantly, she was all smiles. "You mean it?"
Sunset shrugged, her grave dislike for Cadance still too hot to entirely commit.
"I'll take it." Cadance grabbed hold of that sliver with all her meager strength. "We might have a long way to go, but I'm not going to turn down my first potential friend since I came here."
That spiked Sunset's curiosity. "What, you don't have half the guards and maids eating out of your frog?"
Cadance's candy mane shuffled as she shook her head, falling to droop over her left eye. "No, they're... they act respectful, but I think they're all afraid of me."
Sunset suppressed her initial observation that fear was good, instead grunting out a much more socially acceptable response. "Why? You're about as threatening as six kittens in a wicker basket."
The image got Cadance to giggle - before she dropped to seriousness again. "Well, I think it's because they've never seen an alicorn besides Princess Celestia, so they don't know how to act around me. And Pr--Aunt Celestia told me that all the laws are phrased as 'the Princess' without naming her, so technically I have the same authority she does." She paused. "I'm not sure why she made the laws that way, but it's suddenly important and it makes ponies nervous since they don't know who I am yet."
"And because you're an alicorn, they say you're a Princess." Sunset managed to not choke on the word.
Cadance nodded gloomily.
That was important information. Sunset had already read the legal texts and inferred it all, but having it confirmed by Celestia herself didn't hurt. It guaranteed that once she figured out the secret, the power Sunset was after would be hers. By law, they couldn't deny a princess.
"They'll get to know you." Sunset leaned into what she expected for her own future. "Sure, maybe they're afraid now but after they see what you can do? They'll learn better. Right now they're just small-minded ponies who can't see past their own noses. You'll show them." A barely suppressed smug smile came to her lips. "You'll show them all."
"I hope I do show them who I really am." Cadance - innocent as she was - didn't seem to catch the obviously ominous statement at all. "Thank you, Sunset. That really helps."
Again, Sunset shrugged. "Eh. As I've said before, we going to have to live with each other. And I know how much of a pain in the flank servants can be."
"Do you?" Cadance shifted on the thick burgundy carpet. Then another grin overtook her face. "Oh! That's actually a great place to start!" Rising up to her hooves, she closed the gap between them by half. "You wanted for us to get to know each other better - how long have you been here at the castle?"
An easy question. Sunset barely thought about the answer. "For about as long as I care to remember."
That was too unspecific for Cadance. "I mean, were you born here? Are your parents part of the staff, or--"
She ground to a halt as Sunset stiffened.
"...Sunset?" Cadance frowned, concern etched on her face. "Are you okay?"
Before, Sunset's voice had always been full of emotion. Anger, sarcasm, inquisitive curiosity - not now, though. Very neutral, she spoke in a slow, even tone. The heavy collar of restraint weighed down every word. "Let me make one thing clear, Cadance. You're welcome to blather on about where you're from as much as you want. But that subject is off limits for me. The only thing that matters is that I'm here. I got rid of where I came from - unlike you, I don't care about that past. It's not today, and it doesn't matter. Clear?"
Cadance hesitated. Then she nodded - slightly, neck and expression stiff.
Internally, Sunset sighed and kicked herself. So much for keeping control of her temper. "Look. We're not going to make any more progress today. Go practice and figure out how to light your horn properly."
There was reluctance on Cadance's part as she visibly wrestled with trying to find something to say. But she didn't argue with Sunset. "So... later, then?"
Sunset could feel the urge to snap rising and fought to restrain herself. She managed a dangerously chill nod as she turned back to her cluttered desk. "I've got work to do with my own lessons. Come back when you're better prepared."
Slowly, Cadance stood and inched to the door. There was another pause before she stepped out - enough for a sorrowful look back - then she was out of the room.
And only then did Sunset let out a ragged breath and let the tension slip out of her spine.
Not precisely didn't see - they still were moments in the halls where Sunset glimpsed that cotton candy pink form. But those moments were fleeting and usually through a crowd of servants, functionaries and administrators. Some of it was certainly because of the sour note their first session had ended on, and some of it was that Cadance was still struggling with the basics of her horn, but those were only minor parts of the reason.
After all, Cadance needed a coronation.
The idea, of course, made Sunset want to scream. She had tried imagining it was hers - or at least the practice run for her own - but that only barely masked the frustration. To make matters worse, her attendance was mandatory. Even if Celestia hadn't made it very clear that Sunset had a reserved place (and that she would be checking to be sure her student was there), Sunset knew her plans required that she make an appearance. Skipping out on Cadance's big day would create a huge obstacle in their 'friendship' - so Sunset had no choice but to swallow her pride and show up.
While the entire debacle had been thrown together in mere days, it was still a grand occasion. Hundreds of ponies had come for what they thought was the event of their lifetimes - the first new Princess in a millennium. And, they incorrectly assumed, the last.
Canterlot Castle's throne room was resplendent with bunting in Cadance's pink and soft blue; bright primroses native to her distant homeland; glowing candelabras that bore tapers with wax scented by oranges and cloves that was just strong enough to overpower the starch of noble clothing. Sunset's place wasn't on the dais - that was reserved solely for Princess Celestia herself. Her brilliant student was regulated to a place near the front and off to the left, in the shadow of the hulking Captain of the Royal Guard and coincidentally close by to Cadance's adoptive earth pony parents.
Celestia herself stood tall and proud beneath an arch of woven cypress branches, golden regalia carefully paired with a purple dress by the finest designer in Equestria. Her face, however, remained impassive and aloof - distant from the throng of mere mortal ponies around her.
Mortal save one.
It was the first time Cadance had worn her regalia and it showed: each of her steps was just slightly halting as she mentally made sure she didn't step out of the shoes. She didn't wear a peytral, instead mimicing the jewelry with a rise of silk on the front of her baby blue dress. She instead had opted for earrings as signs of office - heavy crystals of violet that hung out from under her elaborate updo.
As she marched down the red carpet to the dais - followed by an honor guard in full armor, a chorus literally singing her praises and a group of bearers carrying standards emblazoned with her Cutie Mark - Sunset zoned out. The imagery made her soul sick to look at and she retreated to within her own mind for safety.
Sunset's thoughts wandered - briefly thinking about her own coronation before going to far more important issues. Things like how she'd purge the castle staff after becoming a princess. Most would have to go: they were (unsurprisingly) too loyal to Celestia. A few had indispensable skills and so could remain... at least temporarily. Her favorite chef from the kitchens, Gastronomique, could stay. Possibly permanently - he was a griffon, after all, and so was far more mercenary than any pony would be. Which, as she thought about it, could be useful. A new Captain of the Guard would be mandatory, and a griffon...
Something in Princess Celestia's speech drew Sunset's attention back to reality. The Princess had been rambling for a bit now, giving vague platitudes about harmony and magic to the crowd. But she was reaching her climax - lifting a golden crown to place on Cadance's head.
"And so it is," boomed Celestia's voice, "That I have the great pleasure to crown a new Princess of Equestria. Let a new day dawn and all those within the realm greet her - Mi Amore Cadenza. Cadance - Princess of Love!"
The crowd erupted into sycophantic cheers. Sunset, however, did nothing more than applaud politely, letting herself be lost in the cacophony of hooves on stone. Her attention was squarely on those last three words.
Princess of love.
Sunset's mind leapt into overdrive.
It was a weak point. Love was just friendship turned up to eleven, possibly with some hormones mixed in. But for Sunset's purposes, that made it even better. You might deny a friend something, but a lover? You would do anything for somepony you loved. Even defy the Sun and tell them the deepest of secrets.
And that was it - she didn't have to become Cadance's friend. She had to become Cadance's love.
Of course, it would be difficult. Sunset would be facing down an alicorn in her area of expertise - not just against a pony with the appropriate mark but one with the raw might of an immortal. Then again, what better way to prove you were worthy of being an alicorn than defeating one?
But she'd have to take it slow. Cadance was stupid, but in this Sunset couldn't take chances. Mentally, she revised her plan.
The original Step 3 was thrown out - it was almost a guarantee, after all. Cadance had eagerly jumped at even the slightest hint of friendship between them, and her isolation within the castle meant bridging the gap was assured. Being friends with her was as simple as breathing - it simply meant not outright rejecting Cadance. Instead, there was a different step now, sketched out on the paper in Sunset's mind.
Step 3: Take target out on several unrelated outings
A risky step, but one that still had an escape. Creating a path to go from friend to lover could be done faster, but it wasn't clear yet just how deep Cadance's mark went. There was the possibility that being the alicorn of love was enough to give her some sort of love-sense - which would be disastrous. So taking it slowly at first was crucial, leaving an easy path to bail out of the plan if Cadance could detect emotions without training. Love magic was unpredictable - and often dark - so caution was wise.
But a few tentative things that could be dates or could be innocent? It gave Sunset the chance to get a feel for things and dismiss them as just friendship if Cadance got wise.
Step 4: Initiate dating
In theory? Easy. In practice? Probably a lot harder.
Truthfully, Sunset didn't have any solid ideas for how to do that. Her best idea was to use Cadance's strengths against her: who better to ask for how to date somepony than the alicorn of love? That still left a lot of blanks, however, and Sunset Shimmer was not one to leave a gaping hole in her plan.
But she also had no idea how to fix it.
She mentally out aside the issue for the moment. She had time. There was no need to fully lay that part out in the short term, let alone before the coronation ended.
The old Step 4 was now Step 5 and the old 5 was now 6 - and were otherwise unchanged. Her end goal was the same, just the methods had shifted. She would get the information and she would ascend.
It was foolproof - and it helped that Sunset Shimmer was no fool.
Even as all around her the crowd of dock-kissers cheered their newest princess, Sunset knew they would have another one to celebrate soon enough.
By comparison, the party afterwards was sedate. Half of Canterlot was crowding around Cadance, trying to curry her favor (and Celestia's favor, indirectly) before somepony else could get her ear. The result, obviously, was that none of them were getting the shot, but that didn't stop them from trying.
Sunset was content to watch from a distance - smugly smirking with a glass of sparkling cider as the nobility swarmed like koi for breadcrumbs. That was one aspect of princess-dom she wasn't looking forward to. But then, one of the perks of the wings was also the ability to banish somepony if you felt like it.
Unfortunately, one of the other parts Sunset didn't like was approaching her and she couldn't banish him yet. An involuntary snarl surfaced, overcoming all restraint. "Good evening, Blueblood."
"Prince Blueblood," he retorted for the four millionth time.
Sunset did not correct herself.
Drawing up beside her, Blueblood sipped his drink - something similarly shaded to the cider, but likely far more expensive, imported from some distant corner of the map and with a name nearly unpronounceable by the pony tongue. Sunset was also fairly sure it tasted like crap, but that was more hope than fact. And it didn't stop him from talking. "I see for once you're not trying to garner more attention, Miss Shimmer."
Sunset shrugged. "Don't see a lot of point. Everypony knows this is Cadance's night, plus it's funny to watch." She motioned slightly with her glass. "I mean, look at her. She's floundering so badly. You can see the panic in her eyes and the way her smile's straining. If Princess Celestia doesn't step in, I give it another five minutes before Cadance breaks."
"She is a bit uncultured," Blueblood sneeringly admitted. "But I suppose that's forgivable, considering how recently she was rescued from that backwater. In time, I'm certain she'll come to properly appreciate high society."
Instantly, Sunset's eyebrow spiked. "Okay, what are you up to."
Blueblood sipped his drink, eyes still on the overwhelmed pink princess. "I have no idea what you mean."
"You're being vaguely nice to her. You're never nice to anypony." Sunset's frown sharpened. "The only ones you're ever nice to are Princess Celestia, Kibitz when you want something and me when you're trying to--" She froze. And then immediately wanted to vomit. "Oh no."
A smug smile touched the corner of his lips. "Jealous?"
"Of you? Never."
"Of her." Blueblood's eyes didn't leave Cadance. "You're yesterday's news, Miss Shimmer. You were an interesting match before - intelligent, feisty, well-connected and from..." He paused, giving Sunset a meaningful look up and down. "Acceptable stock. But you're no alicorn."
Sunset saw red. Her glass cracked, a dribble of cider weeping out the hairline fracture made by her crushing magic.
Blueblood didn't notice - or didn't care. "What better way to secure the future of the bloodline, after all. It doesn't hurt that she is rather attractive as well."
Long, deep breaths brought color back to Sunset's vision. Slowly. "Is lineage all you care about, Blueblood?" Each word was hissed through clenched teeth that wanted to bite until she drew whatever foul ichor flowed through his veins.
Airily, Blueblood ignored Sunset's seething. "Not the only thing. But unlike yourself, I have a responsibility to preserve the line." He turned a critical eye to the amber unicorn. "You seek power for yourself, Miss Shimmer. I seek it because my duty demands it - I am the last scion of a grand heritage. I have my own wants, of course, but I also know what is required of me." He snorted. "I'm certain that in five or six generations, your descendants will think much the same. They'll be busy trying to keep your lineage from plummeting back into the dirt you're working so hard to raise it out of."
A snap about her own ascension - her lack of need for descendants to pass the power to - almost got out of Sunset's mouth. But she suppressed it in time, biting her tongue. "You're assuming that she'll be interested in you."
He laughed. Blueblood laughed at the barb - loud enough to pull some of the room's attention to him. And for that he paused, doing a quick hair-flip and flashing his beaming smile to the crowd before resuming the conversation. "You make that sound like it would be a challenge. Or anything less than certain."
Barely repressed anger surged through Sunset again - and this time the glass in her magic shattered under the pressure. "I," she threatened, "Will not stand idly by and let you--"
"Spurn you?" Blueblood slashed into the middle of her righteous rant, a dry smirk on his lips. "Cast you aside?"
"We never were something, Blueblood," Sunset hissed.
"And we never will be," came his smarmy retort. "You're just not that important anymore, Miss Shimmer. Good evening." Blueblood tossed back his glass to guzzle the rest of his drink - then turned on his frog and marched away with a self-satisfied grin.
It took considerable effort not to blast him - Sunset distracted herself by pinching her eyes closed and mentally running down the various spells she could potentially fire right up his tail. At thirty-seven (Mistmane's Miniature Meteorite) her internal rage had calmed enough to probably not attempt murder in the middle of the ballroom.
A caring, gentle wing touched her back.
Sunset stiffened with surprise - then relaxed under Celestia's calming touch. The wing hugged her, wrapping over Sunset's back and easing her racing mind into something more manageable. Despite everything - the bitterness, the frustration - Celestia still knew how to comfort Sunset. Under it all, Sunset knew, too, that she was still so very much that little filly who craved her mentor's attention and praise.
For a moment, they were that again.
Sunset leaned into the soft feathers and the strong wing, letting out a shivering sigh.
"Are you better?"
Her eyes popped open at the voice being wrong.
The wing was pink, not white.
In reflexive terror, Sunset's horn seared to life and she banished herself in a crackling pop of teal magic.
Cadance got no response - she was talking to a closed door, after all.
"I've only seen a pony teleport once or twice, and both of those were Princess Celestia. I wasn't expecting you to just..." She shuffled uneasily, head drooping. "I didn't mean to scare you, Sunset. That's why I've been trying to keep my distance since the coronation." Another pause. "It's only been two days but you know what I mean." Her voice dropped to silence as she listened for even a hint of response. None came. "They said-- I mean, I heard one of the castle staff saying they had seen you outside of your room earlier. I thought that maybe you were coming out again because you felt better. But, um, I guess... I guess you aren't."
Cadance sighed quietly, mostly to herself. "Maybe this was stupid, but I wanted to say I was sorry. And that I hope you'll want to talk to me again soon. I miss my first friend here in the castle." Another moment of hesitation, then she pressed again. "I didn't know that you were going to react like that. Where I'm from - my home village? It's all earth ponies. No unicorns, and I was the only pegasus there. My parents always liked my wing-hugs." Cadance wrapped her own wings tighter against herself. "They said it was like being wrapped in a silk cloud. You looked so angry and I just thought... I wanted to help."
Her head thumped against the door as she leaned forward. "I'm sorry, Sunny."
Cadance's hooves scrambled to regain themselves as the door cracked open. It was barely an inch, but that was enough for her eyes to blaze to with eager life.
One of Sunset's teal eyes - far less lively - looked back through the narrow crack. "Don't call me Sunny," she dourly commanded.
And yet, Cadance smiled at her.
"And you didn't scare me, you surprised me."
"Surprised. Of course." Cadance kept smiling - it grew by the second. "I stand corrected."
Sunset squinted. "You've certainly gotten sassier in only a couple of days."
"I think I'm finding my hooves better, that's all. Things aren't as... as strange now that a little time's passed. I think the shock is wearing off." Cadance took a half-step closer - hesitantly, as if expecting the door to slam on her. "Sunset? Can I come in? I really have missed you."
With a grunt, Sunset stepped back and let the door open the rest of the way.
It had only been two days, but Sunset's room was already a mess. No maids meant everything had been left under the care of a teenage filly who classified cleaning as half a step up from sewer maintenance. The bedsheets were scattered, half her closet was emptied onto the floor in a pile and one of the lamps in the room had already run out of fuel and guttered to darkness. Sunset's eating habits were also on display: she had been snatching food out of the castle pantry, teleporting in and out before eating sullenly in her room. Two days worth of dishes (and stress eating at that) lay scattered about. She had kept her working desk clear, but that meant books had been pulled off the shelves and piled into makeshift table surfaces to hold the empty plates and bowls.
Almost reflexively, Cadance started to pick up the room - grabbing several of the plates with her wing and gathering them up.
They all hit the floor with a cacophonous clatter as Sunset's magic batted them away. "I didn't let you in to clean," she snarled. "You're not a maid."
"I can still help." Cadance trotted across the room to the heavy blackout curtains. "At least you could get some light in here so you can see."
A bright teal aura enveloped the curtains before Cadance could touch them. "Don't you even." Sunset stormed around in front of Cadance before jabbing her with a hoof. "You came to see me. Get to the point of why and stop messing with my life choices."
Cadance pursed her lips tightly. "I was worried about you, alright? So is Princess Celestia."
"Which is why it's just you here." Sunset scoffed, turning away from Cadance and dropping into her desk chair.
"She's a bit more hooves-off," Cadance admitted as she walked an orbit around Sunset, ending up in the middle of the room. "But that doesn't mean she doesn't care about her brilliant student."
Several seconds of dead silence ticked past. Then - frustratingly slowly - Sunset turned her chair around to fix Cadance with an intense glare. "I'm not asking about her. I'm asking about you." (Both of them ignored that lie.) Stopping herself, she took a long, deep breath. "Look. Yes, you surprised me in front of every pony in Canterlot worth mentioning. Yes, I was already in a bad mood. Yes, I could probably have handled things better. But I'm fine." The pieces started to come back together - and Sunset's plan managed to retake control from her anger and embarrassment. "I guess... thanks. For coming to check on me."
"You're welcome." Cadance shifted from hoof to hoof, waiting to see if Sunset would respond more. But after a few nervous seconds, she threw herself into the conversation again. "I've gotten better with my horn," she eagerly noted. "It's a lot easier to get it lit and I can keep it up for almost two minutes now. You were right, it's just a matter of practicing until I get used to it."
Sunset grunted. "Good." She let that hang for a beat before continuing. "You'll keep getting better and you're still at a foal's level, but we can start working on the basic lessons. Tomorrow morning."
Cadance hesitated. "Actually, I can't tomorrow. Princess Celestia is introducing me to some of the nobles she says are important."
"Afternoon, then," Sunset grudgingly adjusted.
And a shake of Cadance's head. "Tutoring on the mechanics of parliament."
A frown. "Day after?"
"Etiquette lessons," Cadance apologized.
Sunset snorted. "Yeah, and I said you needed those. Alright, when, then?"
"After etiquette." Cadance jumped at that. "I mean, I'm supposed to be having afternoon tea with somepony but I can move that."
That got an appreciative nod from Sunset. "Yeah. Magic is more important than tea."
"Ugh, especially with Prince Blueblood." Cadance stuck out her tongue.
Sunset froze. He was already making his move - she had been too passive and left an opening. It took effort to not swear audibly.
Cadance didn't notice. "He's nice enough, but something about him just seems off. Plus the palace staff already started to warn me about him." She paused awkwardly, eyes flicking to Sunset before darting back away again.
It wasn't hard for Sunset to fill in the gap. "Like how they warned you about me?"
There was shame in it, but Cadance confirmed it with a nod. "They, um, aren't really fond of you."
Somehow Cadance was surprised by Sunset rolling her eyes with a snort. "Yeah, figures. It's not like their opinion matters anyway."
"They're ponies too," Cadance pointed out. "Just like us."
Her response was another snort. "Not like us," Sunset observed. "You're an alicorn, they're nothing like you. And..." She smirked before motioning at herself. "I mean, me."
Cadance bit her lip to stop from saying anything.
Sunset pushed on regardless, but even she knew it was time for a change of subject. "So. Blueblood, huh."
The agonized groan Cadance let out as she tossed herself onto Sunset's bed told more than her words. "I thought he just wanted to introduce himself, but after talking with some of..." She stopped, frowning as she ran a wing along the purposely itchy blanket. "Sunset, how do you even sleep with this thing on? It's like it's made out of currycombs instead of wool."
She didn't, but Sunset wasn't going to reveal that part. "My business, not yours. Now get back to ponies badmouthing Blueblood."
Cadance let out a thin giggle. "Alright, if you insist." She settled onto the bed, wiggling a little in spite of the rough, scratchy blanket. "He asked me to tea the morning after my coronation. At first, I was overjoyed! I mean, I don't know Canterlot's nobility very well yet, so a prince wanting to know me sounded really good. Princess Celestia had been saying I needed to make friends and allies, and he seemed like a great place to start."
Quietly, Sunset chuckled and leaned forward. "Here's a secret for you - he's not really a prince. His name is Prince. It's a family tradition. About three hundred years ago, one particularly uppity noble named his son Count - so he was Baron Count Mincing Fop, in the hope that ponies would forget the first title and just assume he was higher ranked. That turned into a naming fad for a few generations before dying off again, but Blueblood's family still does it because it's tradition at this point. And they've been doing it for so long, it's actually worked and everypony's forgotten he's just a duke."
Sunset had no idea if that was actually factual, but the idea amused her enough that she considered it truth.
Evidently, Cadance agreed - she broke out into wild giggles. "That sounds so much like him!" She leaned forward, voice at a half whisper full of conspiracy. "Almost every pony in the castle warned me about what he was like."
They shared the laugh - then Sunset turned more serious. "I gotta ask, though. Why are you listening to them about him but not about me? I know they tried to warn you away from me, too."
For a moment, Cadance was quiet. "Well, there's a few reasons. For one, I have a choice about associating with Blueblood. But you were right when you said that we have to live with each other. You're Princess Celestia's prized personal student. We can't avoid each other forever. Second, there's..." She trailed off, searching for the right word. "I'm still going to have tea with Blueblood at some point. I want to give him a chance to show me he's not who they say he is. With you, I've already gotten to know you a little bit."
"And?" Sunset tried to not be too leading, but she couldn't deny her hope that the plan was already working.
"You're abrasive." Cadance didn't pull her punches. "And you're very... confident. But when I look around and see so many nobles and businessponies with fake smiles, it's refreshing that you're more honest about how you feel. Plus I like to think I see something more to you than just an angry filly with a lot of power and a chip on her shoulder."
Sunset's lips drew to a thin line. If she didn't know better, that almost sounded dangerously intelligent of Cadance. She also couldn't deny there was truth to it. "Yeah, well, I'm Princess Celestia's brilliant student for a reason."
Smiling, Cadance nodded. "Exactly! So I want to get the chance to get to know you and be friends. Or at least, you know, tolerate each other?"
Her response was a smirk. "Let's start slowly, yeah."
Eagerly, Cadance clapped her hooves. "Great! So, um, anyway. Since I'm here, maybe we should do some magic practice?"
Sunset considered it, scratching her chin in thought. "Hmm. Nah. I've got a better idea." Grabbing a bell (silver with gold filigree) from her desk, she levitated it outside the door and rang. "I'll have the servants bring us some food, and we can keep talking about how stupid the nobles are. The castle chef, Gastro, does this awesome rose petal sandwich with mustard on sourdough."
Cadance's smile widened. "That sounds like a great way to spend the afternoon."
Glancing up from the scroll she was reading for a moment, the Princess nodded. "Yes, Sunset Shimmer. Please, have a seat." She did and... nothing happened.
Seconds - minutes - passed as Celestia sipped her tea and read the scroll. Sunset stayed where she was. Leaving after being directly summoned was a bridge too far even for her, so all she could do was squirm and wait. Wait with her flank pasted to the chair - carved from a single chunk of teak, with the plush cushion made from cloud-soft velvet. It had been given to the Princess as tribute by her sheep subjects a decade earlier.
Celestia was in no rush, either. Her steaming cup slowly drained as she finished the task at hoof while her student waited.
The wall clock - a relic gifted by an ambassador from Farasi, made from ebony and gold three hundred years ago - ticked loudly.
Finally finishing, Princess Celestia set down her teacup - a beautiful snow white porcelain laced with gold and cobalt blue patterns that had once belonged to King Guto, it had been gifted to the Princess by the Griffonian ambassador as payment for shelter when he fled the nation's collapse. In it remained the dregs of her breakfast drink: a drop of honey and a hearty black breakfast tea, purchased at the nearest corner store for two bits per half-pound of loose leaf. The literally priceless china clinked against the saucer with a near complete lack of grace before the Princess wiped her lips with a monogrammed napkin of Abyssinian silk.
"I'm told that Princess Cadance has apologized to you."
The phrasing of it instantly put Sunset on the defensive - obviously Celestia couldn't possibly approve of Cadance apologizing like a commoner instead of a princess. But there was truth to it and without knowing more about what the Princess had been told, Sunset couldn't dispute things. So she nodded and chose her words carefully. "The two of us made peace, yes."
It was an answer that seemed to please Princess Celestia - confirming the situation without casting doubt on a princess' infallibility. "She mentioned it to me in passing this morning while I was introducing her to members of the Egalitarian Equestrians Society. I was quite pleased to hear, after what happened at the reception." Celestia paused to exchange the scroll she had been reading for a different one. "You caused a bit of a stir with your abrupt disappearance."
Another leading question, masked in false concern. Sunset knew the tone well - Princess Celestia used it often. "She surprised me. That's all."
"And it has nothing to do with Prince Blueblood?" Celestia pushed the hot button, just lightly. "I noticed that you and he were having a conversation right before the incident."
Sunset's teeth clenched as the conversation - and her temper - flared back into her mind. "He did distract me, which is why I didn't notice Cadance."
A slight nod from the alicorn. "Yes, that would explain how Princess Cadance caught you off-guard." The title drew extra hard emphasis. Then Celestia tried to tack back the other way, plying a bit of honey. "You know, I don't see why you couldn't be more friendly with Blueblood. He's young but isn't a bad pony once you get to know him."
What she meant, of course, was that Sunset should reconsider what Blueblood had been offering her. And on the surface? She had a point. An alliance (and Sunset refused to consider it anything more than that) with Blueblood would benefit them both. He wouldn't have to worry about his precious lineage anymore, and Sunset would have access to power, influence and wealth. She had some as the Princess' student, granted, but it was still comparatively limited. Joining Blueblood would solidify her status permanently and force the bickering nobles to accept her presence.
Of course, that assumed that Sunset Shimmer would never be an alicorn.
So with no value in Blueblood at all, Sunset shrugged and declined to give a straight answer. "I'll keep that in mind."
The deflection forced Celestia's lips to a thin line. She set down her scroll.
Before the Princess could speak, Sunset took the initiative back for herself. "You know, I don't see why you're having Cadance take all these lessons alone. If I was there with her, I bet I could help her out." She paused for half a breath before launching her next salvo. "Plus it'll prepare me for being a princess, too."
The bait was out - and taken. "You have not yet demonstrated you're ready for such things, Sunset Shimmer." Celestia's voice had that familiar firm hardness to it - but this time, that was exactly what Sunset wanted. She couldn't let the Princess clue in to the plan, and part of that was making her think Sunset's priorities hadn't changed. Fortunately, it was working. "Perhaps in time, but you still have many other important lessons to learn first."
Sunset snorted angrily. "You haven't given me a lesson yet that I haven't mastered."
Princess Celestia smiled a sad, pitying smile. "So you say."
Sunset's eyes narrowed.
And Celestia continued on, retaking control of the conversation. "Returning to the point, how is Princess Cadance doing in her lessons with you?"
"Pretty good, considering she has all the knowledge of a brick." Sunset swung the compliment like a mace. "She's managed to progress from the magical equivalent of a newborn to the equivalent of a toddler in two weeks. A few more months and he might be able to hold a quill."
While that poor grade was obviously not going to go over well, Sunset hadn't anticipated just how annoyed Princess Celestia's face became. "I expected better of you, Sunset Shimmer."
Despite all of her confidence and bluster, when faced with being the focus of the Princess' disappointment - Sunset cringed away.
"You are the most promising student of magic I have seen in at least a century and could become one of the greatest mages in Equestria's history. Despite your age, you already dwarf most unicorns both in knowledge and raw magical ability. That teaching a single student of your own is proving too much is..." Princess Celestia frowned and let out a long, frustrated sigh. "Disappointing."
Before Sunset could speak up in her own defense, Celestia continued on. "I would like to see greater progress - and quickly."
Sunset tried to harden herself under the Sun's disapproving gaze, but her attempt at smug indifference didn't go further than looking petulant. "She'll have a handle on levitation soon. I'll make sure of it."
Instead of looking pleased - or even just placated - Princess Celestia shook her head. "That is not enough, Sunset. Were it any other student I would be more allowing, but Princess Cadance is different. She is an alicorn without magic - she is vulnerable." The Princess' hard expression softened just enough for a sliver of worry to slip through. "She cannot be allowed to come to harm. A second alicorn is..." Celestia paused, the words almost too difficult to say. "It is a precious thing. I cannot allow even the chance that she is lost."
It was brief - seconds, maybe half a minute at most. But for that tiny little span, Princess Celestia - the Unconquered Sun, the Mare of the Dawn, the Eternal Beacon - was mortal. Her guard came down and exposed something deep inside her: a sorrow unspoken for generations, told to no one before that moment. And there was a deep disquiet that sat under her eyes, pulling her soul downwards with the world's weight.
Sunset should have taken advantage of it.
But she didn't. She couldn't. That vulnerability in the Immortal, the Eternal - it shook her. Something deep inside Sunset saw the sadness smoldering behind the alicorn's ancient eyes and balked at the thought of using it against the Princess.
Then it was gone as the walls went up again, sealing Celestia off from her student and the world. "Shields," she pronounced firmly. "I want Princess Cadance to be taught how to defend herself. Teach whatever is needed in that but she must be invulnerable, Sunset Shimmer. I will not lose her."
The silence hung heavy between them for another half-minute before Sunset finally spoke again. "After levitation," she offered. And quickly she appended herself. "But only that! If she can't handle basic levitation, she'll never manage a shield worth anything. She has to stand before she can trot, Princess."
Celestia didn't like the delay - but she allowed it with a sharp nod. "Alright. But only that. Cadance's ability to protect herself is top priority." She hesitated before adding, "I'm trusting you with this, Sunset Shimmer."
Trust. With the relationship between Celestia and Sunset so strained, it was a loaded word. But while her instinct was to scoff at it, Sunset couldn't entirely suppress the tiny spark in her gut. Princess Celestia was trusting her - trusting her with a duty that was earth-shatteringly critical. Perhaps this was the chance she'd been waiting for. The opening to prove she was ready.
Sunset smiled a little bit and nodded with an eagerness she hadn't felt in years. "I understand, Princess Celestia."
By the time she was bedding down for the night, Sunset was kicking herself.
Celestia, damn her, had taken Sunset off-guard. It was easy to forget sometimes just how good an actress the Princess could be - centuries of politics and diplomacy had shaped her into a master manipulator, and the conversation earlier had proven it.
The irony was that Celestia hadn't needed to - protecting Cadance was in Sunset's best interests, too. The plan wouldn't work if Cadance was hurt. So of course teaching her the basics of defending herself was on the to-do list. Moving it up to please Celestia didn't hurt anything.
But it all still galled Sunset.
She hated her own weakness. She hated that the Princess had played her so easily. She hated those brief moments of empathy. Yes, no harm was done to Sunset's schemes, but it was the principle of it. Everything was so obvious, in retrospect. The idea that Princess Celestia could be so unrestrained, so... so vulnerable? It was ridiculous. She had emotions, Sunset reminded herself, but she was far too savvy to expose them like that.
Besides, what could Princess Celestia possibly be that sad about? She was Princess Celestia. The Sun didn't get sad.
Four balls sat perched on the edge of Sunset's desk. Each was visually identical to the rest in size (approximately that of a tennis ball), color (muted green) and shape (spherical with a slight divot on the bottom to prevent them from rolling) - the sole difference between them being a single white numeral painted on the side.
Cadance peered at the four balls curiously.
"Practice weights," Sunset explained. "Each of the four is made out of a different material, so you have a variety of masses to work with. They're all otherwise identical and they're thaumatically neutral." She motioned to the lightest - labelled with a chunky 1. "Lift it. With your magic," Sunset quickly clarified. "Think hard about picking it up and light your horn."
Cadance nearly said something - then stopped. And rather than question, she did as commanded and glared at the ball. For long seconds, nothing happened save for Cadance looking stupid and vaguely constipated. But when a baby blue aura started to wrap around the ball, her eyes widened with surprise and glee - and then disappointment as the aura winked back out of existence just as the weight started to move.
Sunset sighed with frustration. "You need to concentrate. Right now you're so raw at this you can't lose focus."
"But I did it!" Cadance pointed feverishly at the ball. "I actually did it! I mean, I don't know how I did it but I did!"
"By using magic." Sunset scoffed quietly at her student's foolishness.
That answer wasn't enough for Cadance. "Yes, but how? You never taught me any formulas or spells or... or incantations! It just happened!"
"Of course it just happened." Sunset hopped out of her chair and trotted over to Cadance. "Let me guess, you thought those were necessary?"
"Yes!"
With a derisive snort, Sunset reached up and gave a slightly-too-hard tap on Cadance's horn. "This is what matters with magic."
Wincing, Cadance flinched back and rubbed her horn gingerly.
Sunset paid that no mind as she continued. "All of those old jerks like to think they're superior because they figured out the meaning of everything with formulas and math. And sure, what they did helps. A lot of the advanced stuff needs specific incantations or runes to make it work - like I'm not gonna try teleporting without a casting framework because I like not being inside a wall. But the real key to magic isn't something you get out of a book, or Celestia's school would be pumping out Starswirls by the dozen."
Lighting her horn, Sunset wrapped Cadance in her teal aura and heaved. The alicorn yelped as she found herself flipped upside-down and placed hooves-first on the ceiling.
"What makes magic work," Sunset lectured, "Is power and will. The most brilliant researcher might know a thousand spells, but he can't cast it if he doesn't have the thaumatic ability. And the most powerful unicorn in the world can't lift a quill if she doesn't have the force of will to make it happen."
Pacing, Sunset started a slow circle around the center of her room. "All the big spells are is a tool. They help you focus your will and your magic, but they're not what gets the job done. You're what does that. An engine requires fuel, and without your magic the fanciest incantation is nothing but inert words and math."
On her second loop, she scooped a paperclip up in her magic. The tiny scrap of metal burned with a bright glow - pulsing and twirling as Sunset heated the metal and softened it. Then she pulled it out into a long, thin spike. "If you got asked to drive a nail, I bet you'd look for a hammer. And sure, a hammer's the best tool for the job. But you could still drive it in with a rock or a heavy book or your hoof." She grunted, slamming her makeshift nail into the doorframe with a burst of magical force. "Or just your raw magical ability. Spells are like that - they're a tool but you don't need them for basics. And if you're powerful enough, they slow you down. As an alicorn, your innate power--"
"Um. Sunset?"
The unicorn looked upwards.
Face bright red, Cadance nervously smiled downwards. "You're ranting in circles. And it's really interesting to see how passionate you are about this and also it's very educational, but being upside-down is just a teensy bit distracting."
Sunset stopped sharply in place. "...oh. Right." She slowly rotated Cadance around and lowered her to the floor. "Uh, sorry," she apologized with bright red cheeks. "I got distracted for a moment there."
On her hooves again, Cadance wobbled slightly as the blood drained from her head. "It's... it's okay." She dropped, sitting with a loud thump. "I just need a minute."
They both were silent as Cadance's blood started to flow naturally again. Once she felt more herself, the alicorn gave a little nod to continue.
Sunset started slower this time. "What I'm trying to say is that your horn is an extension of you, just like your magic is an extension of your horn. Every time you cast, you're projecting yourself out into the world and trying to change it. A complicated spell can help you focus on what you're trying to do or act as a conduit for your magic, but at the end of the day, you're affecting the world, not the spell. Does that make sense?"
"I think so," Cadance agreed with a slow nod. "It's the difference between theory and practice, right?"
Sunset smiled - a small but honest one - as Cadance got the hint. "Mostly, yeah. You can know all the spells in the world, but that doesn't mean you have the ability to cast them. Basic levitation is just that - there isn't really a spell for it so much as it's unicorn instinct." She paused. "Which you don't have, but we'll work on that. All you need to care about right now is that lifting those practice weights is as easy as thinking about it and having a strong enough will to make the universe bend to you."
Turning, Sunset lifted the 4 ball into the air with her magic. "Now that you've got the basics of turning your magic on in the first place, you can start using it to project your will into the world. Make it bend and do what you want it to. After you get that, we can start working on more advanced stuff." She paused, recalling her conversation with Princess Celestia. "In fact, I know just the way."
As Cadance watched curiously, Sunset swapped the heavy 4 for the much lighter 1 and held the ball up between them. "Concentrate. I'm going to toss this to you. Catch it and throw it back, alright? We're starting really light and I'll go slow."
Which - perhaps surprisingly - is how it went. Sunset gave the ball a gentle lob towards Cadance. Her first attempt to catch it was depressing: the ball passed through her magic as if it wasn't there before landing by her hooves.
After a dozen attempts, Cadance managed to put enough strength out to slow the ball. Instead of hitting the ground at her hooves, she managed to stop it in the air. It still hit the floor between them, but it was tangible progress.
After three dozen, the ball jerkily stopped mid-air as Cadance finally caught it.
"All right!" Sunset clapped her hooves at her student's success.
Then the ball - and Cadance - dropped to the floor with a thump.
Scrambling to her side, Sunset found things weren't going quite as well as she'd thought: Cadance's pink coat was soaked with sweat.
"Just... just need a moment," said the pink princess with a shaky smile. "That was more tiring than I thought it would be."
The fact that she was still talking shifted Sunset from worry to relieved irritation. "Princess Celestia's going to kill me if you get hurt. Even if you do it to yourself."
Cadance just laughed - breathlessly and from the floor, but she still laughed. "Well as long as I don't stupidly overdo it again, you should be fine. Nopony's going to hurt me."
Her laugh was met by Sunset's stony silence. Cadance's weary humor drained when she noticed the unicorn's cold face.
"Plenty of ponies want to hurt you." Sunset kept her tone even - it was a chore, partially because she knew she was one of them. "Only a few will ever get the chance, but few isn't zero and it's going to happen. It's part of being who and what you are, Cadance. You will always be a target. Politicians, rebels, assassins, that sort of thing. The Princess just hasn't finished preparing you for that yet." For a moment, concern nipped at the edges of Sunset's mind, and not just for her own future. She stopped herself, taking a steadying breath to push it away. "That's why she demanded that after levitation, I teach you shielding techniques. Catching a ball is a step towards being able to catch arrows. Princess Celestia knows what dangers come after an alicorn."
There were a number of ways that Sunset expected Cadance to react. She (foolishly) had been least prepared for the one that happened: Cadance broke down into sobbing tears after a moment of blank-eyed shock. For Cadance to be upset, sure - but not for the pink pony to almost instantly become a bawling mess. And even less so for her to lunge into Sunset's embrace for comfort.
Very, very awkwardly, Sunset wrapped Cadance up in a hug. It was slow and hesitant, but she did. And while she told herself that it was part of the plan... Sunset knew her own empathy wouldn't let her do any different.
After a minute or so, Cadance managed to regain a passing semblance of coherency. "I never wanted any of this," she lamented through the tears. "I don't want to be an alicorn."
"Everypony wants to be a princess." Sunset's response was reflexive.
"I don't! I never wanted this." Cadance buried her face deeper into Sunset's chest. "I just... I was just trying to help. I didn't want to be--" She cut herself off with a hiccup. "I want to go home. I just want to be a nopony again."
"Why?" At heart, Sunset knew it was the wrong thing to say. But the words came out before she could stop herself. Then there was no taking it back, and she had to commit. "So what if some idiots are going to come after you? You've got the power to stop them. Sure there's some dangers, but a nopony couldn't do anything about it." She pushed Cadance up, forcing the alicorn to look her in the eye. "You can. There's no going back, Cadance. Just forward. Putting them under your hooves."
For once, it wasn't Sunset's temper that burst - it was Cadance's. "You're saying ponies are going to try to kill me!" She shoved Sunset backwards - unexpected alicorn strength sent the unicorn sprawling. The remaining spheres - 2, 3 and the previously replaced 4 - fell to the floor as Sunset's back slammed into the desk. "A month ago the worst thing I had to worry about was if I could find a nice enough present for my parent's anniversary! Now I have to learn magic so I don't get assassinated?! Why would any sane pony ever want this?"
"Because--" And Sunset's lips slowed as her normally sharp mind made a connection weeks too late. Cadance was an alicorn. Sunset was going to be an alicorn. There was no going back from that - you couldn't unbecome one. It wasn't just Princess Celestia that Sunset was going to share eternity with - it would also be with Cadance.
Forever.
Like it or not.
While Sunset's mind churned over that realization, Cadance curled herself up protectively. While the tears slowed as she slowly found her emotional balance, they were replaced by shivers as stress washed over her like the ocean. "I guess you don't know, either. It's just something little fillies want." She laughed - tinted with uncharacteristic bitterness. "Everything's just been so wild and hectic since I came here, I never thought that... I never thought about the problems that come with a horn."
Snapping out of her own thoughts, Sunset's first instinct was to scold Cadance for her short-sighted weakness. But...
Forever.
She didn't. She closed the distance and loosely (awkwardly) embraced Cadance. "Princess Celestia should have prepared you for it. You can't go back, but she shouldn't have kept you in the dark. She-- she shouldn't have kept you outside." Sunset's throat clenched saying those words - words so very, very familiar to her. "She should have known you were ready."
Cadance didn't have any more words - not at that moment. She just stayed close to Sunset - and in turn, Sunset stayed silent in her own thoughts.
The spell was only broken when there was a knock at the door and the muffled voice of a servant. "Madam Sunset? I have the lunch you ordered."
"...Rose petal sandwich on sourdough with mustard." Sunset had forgotten she'd ordered it. With a nudge, she pushed Cadance's head up. "You should eat something. Then get some fresh air. You're still mostly pegasus, so..."
With a snotty snort, Cadance nodded and slowly extracted herself from Sunset. "Yes. Yes, you're... you're right. A fly around the grounds might clear my head."
Before she could get away, though, Sunset grabbed her by the fetlock. "After you eat."
A little smile broke through Cadance's sadness. "After I eat," she allowed.
Much to Sunset Shimmer's frustration, being Princess Celestia's personal student did not exclude her from other classes. Granted, that status meant most of her time at the School for Gifted Unicorns was independent study, but there were at least a few occasions where she needed to attend more traditional classes.
That, just as unfortunately, meant interacting with regular students.
On the plus side, Sunset could ignore most of them. She had her own group of sycophants - not on purpose, but her status as the Princess' favorite and her obvious intelligence made it natural. They were in it for themselves, no matter what they claimed. The little herd was just hoping that Sunset's rise would carry them along too.
It didn't bother her that they were trying to use her - it's not like they mattered. Sunset hadn't even bothered to learn any of their names.
At this particular moment - one where Sunset had finished a rather mundane class about the principles of Meadowbrook's spells that Sunset had mastered years ago and was attempting to leave - the herd of hangers-on were even less useful than normal. They were slowing her exit with a variety of pointless babble, nattering about meaningless things. Sunset didn't care what their plans for the weekend were or which questions on the test she thought were hard. She wanted them out of her way.
But shoving through them took time. And that delay was enough for something far more difficult to toss aside to show up.
"Sunset Shimmer." Blueblood smiled as he said her name, but there was no pleasantness in his voice.
"Blueblood," she responded with the usual mix of disdain and boredom.
The first sign something was up was that he didn't correct her to add his title. He just pushed the rest of the way through the students and got face to face with her. "I hear tell that you're the reason Princess Cadance rescheduled her tea with me." The second sign was that Blueblood wasn't bothering to disguise his anger.
It was enough to put Sunset off-guard. "Yes?" She verbally stumbled slightly, put on her back hoof by the princeling's unusually forward aggression.
He capitalized instantly. "I shall warn you once and only once. If you interfere in my relationship with her, I will ensure that you will suffer greatly before being ejected from Canterlot society. Do not try my patience, or your attempts to gain power above your station will bite your flank deep enough to draw blood." He tried to turn on his frog and march off - but the now growing crowd worked against him, blocking his attempted exit.
It was a costly mistake, because as angry as Blueblood was it paled to Sunset's own. And his threat was enough to light the spark to her gunpowder temper. "You are warning me?" She laughed - the sort of slightly disturbed giggle that made the crowd of ponies watching them take a step backwards. "You actually think you've got the strength to challenge me, Blueblood?"
The third sign something was that he didn't back down. "Not strength," Blueblood firmly stated as he turned back to the fiery mare. "Power." He paused pointedly. "Of course, you don't really get that, do you? You've always been seeking power, but you don't understand the difference between it and strength." Airily, he lectured her from just outside punching range. "I tried to help you with that, but you refused my helping hoof every time. No matter how well you cast a spell, Sunset Shimmer, you won't get what you want. Because real power comes from things like your name and your reputation, not from your horn."
"You just say that because that's all you've got," Sunset spat. "All you've got is the leftovers from some ancestor of yours that was actually worth something. A fading name, an emptying wallet and the knowledge that I could literally turn you inside-out and there isn't a damn thing you could do about it."
Blueblood sneered. "Spoken like a bully and a barbarian. You'll never fight your way out of the dirt if you keep throwing yourself back into it."
Before Sunset could retort, the teacher - a thoroughly mediocre academic named Trilby - cleared his throat. "That's enough, both of you!" He stepped forward, breaking through the crowd of students. "There will be no--"
He froze in place as Sunset's furious glare pierced through him. He was triple her age and wise enough to know the truth: he was a middling scholar and she was Sunset Goddamn Shimmer.
Trilby swallowed hard, mid-sentence. All the eyes in the room were on him now, gazes crawling along his coat. He had to finish speaking. "There will be no fighting in my classroom," he managed to get out pasts the thick lump in his throat.
Sunset didn't take her gaze off of him. "Yes. Not in the classroom." She swung her head to glare at Blueblood. "In the yard. If you aren't there, I will hunt you down."
There was a flicker of fear in Blueblood's eyes, but his pride overwhelmed it. He replied with a snort and a sharp turn to march to their battlefield.
By the time they reached the yard, Sunset's fiery temper had gotten itself to a simmer. This was a stupid idea and she realized that. Getting out of it, however, was a different matter entirely.
The outside of the School for Gifted Unicorns was relatively small - yes, it was backed by Princess Celestia and bore her name, but real estate in Canterlot was still at a premium. No amount of money could put a full sized hoofball stadium in the middle of the city. So the school's greenspace was as widely multi-purpose as they could manage - serving as playground, meeting area, PE field and occasional classroom for subjects that couldn't be done entirely indoors.
There was more grass beyond the invisible barrier that divided school from city, but even the most daring students wouldn't wander off school grounds. Not in the middle of the day and certainly not with half the school watching them.
So the confrontation was in the yard, in plain view of everything and everypony. No nearby trees, no benches, no buildings - just flat, open grass and dozens of watching eyes.
The eyes were why there was no getting out of it. Blueblood had to know he couldn't avoid a confrontation without losing face; Sunset knew her pride couldn't stomach showing weakness, no matter how much she might claim nopony's opinion mattered but her own.
At a respectful but still very much not safe distance, the herd from the classroom (plus significantly more) gathered in a loose ring around the two unicorns. Blueblood cracked his neck to the left - and then to the right. "Before we begin, our ground rules--"
Sunset cut him off with a barking laugh. "Rules, Blueblood? Are you admitting you need me to restrain myself so you've got a chance?'
He snorted haughtily in spite of the danger. "Some of us have the self-respect not to roll around in the dirt. Or were you planning to treat this like a tavern brawl between mud ponies?"
"I'm no dirt-sniffer. Just because I didn't inherit a full wallet and several centuries of inbreeding doesn't mean I'm less of a unicorn than you." Sunset smiled with far too many teeth. "And you know no amount of bits are enough to keep me from tearing you apart." Sunset took a single step forward.
Blueblood held his ground. "You always have had a rather high estimation of yourself."
Sunset took another step. "Unlike how you see yourself, mine's accurate. But you knew that already. It's why before you decided to chase Cadance you were after me. Because you're all about trying to find strong matches. Because you know your bloodline is weak."
He sputtered angrily at the insult.
She cut him off before he could form the words for a retort. "You've got power, but it's limited. And you know your ego's writing cheques that won't cash out of your wallet." Her horn lit, glowing hot. "Only your hide."
But before Sunset could reach out and strangle her infuriating opponent, a wall of glowing magic slammed down between them. Students all around screamed and scattered as Princess Celestia herself glided down to the yard. "What is the meaning of this?!" She only barely held back from the Royal Canterlot Voice, but didn't hide her displeasure.
Both Blueblood and Sunset cringed away from true power.
Celestia's withering glare went first to Sunset - then to Blueblood - then back again. "Sunset. To your rooms."
"But I--"
The Princess glared at her brilliant student. "Now. I will deal with you after I have finished with Blueblood."
Part of being strong was knowing when you couldn't win. Sunset hung her head and obeyed without another word.
While Sunset kept the heavy curtains always drawn in her room to keep out the sun, she couldn't keep out The Sun. Celestia walked in like she owned the palace, head high and expression threateningly neutral.
Sunset - at her desk and pretending to be nose-deep in a book while she waited - didn't initially look up. She waited for the Princess to make the first move.
Princess Celestia did not. She stood there beside the desk, unmoving save for the slow billow of her mane.
It took about a minute for Sunset to break. "He started it."
"I'm not concerned about assigning blame." Celestia's voice full of a familiar tone of disappointment. "I'm concerned about how each of you acted."
Instantly, the match of Sunset's temper lit again and she spun to face her mentor. "I was just defending myself! He's the one that came after me!"
Her flame met stone. Celestia didn't blink. "And then you insulted him, threatened him, and if I hadn't stepped in when I did, I expect that you would have hurt him quite badly."
That part, Sunset couldn't deny. Mostly because she was still considering how she could still do it and not be caught. "I was defending myself," she lamely insisted.
"By turning to offense." Celestia didn't voice the scolding tongue-click, but it was strongly implied. "You must learn that just because you have power, Sunset Shimmer, does not make it right to throw it around like a hammer. Power is a burden that may become useful from time to time, but more often is something that pulls against you." She paused. "That you so easily lose your temper has always been worrisome. It will eventually lead to choices that you will regret."
"I'm a big filly," Sunset whined. "I know what I'm doing."
Princess Celestia pursed her lips. "And you can deal with the consequences of your actions?" She waited for Sunset's inevitable nod before continuing. "Then you will have your consequences for today's actions. To begin, you shall write a letter of apology to Prince Blueblood. In it, you will explain in detail why you were wrong as well as giving him at least three earnest compliments."
Sunset opened her mouth to protest.
Celestia's hoof rose, stopping the response before it could happen. "He is writing a similar one for you, so unless you feel that you are unable to complete a task that Blueblood can perform, I don't want to hear it."
Glowering, Sunset closed her mouth again.
The Princess waited a few seconds to be sure that Sunset wasn't going to try to interrupt again before she continued. "Your second punishment is that you are going to assist me. There's a brilliant young foal who I'm hoping will start coming to my school in the coming year. While I am meeting with her family, I expect you to watch over the foal."
A shudder of revulsion ran up Sunset's spine. "Foalsitting? You can't be serious!"
"You're right, I'm Princess Celestia." And she said it with a completely straight face.
The attempted joke only got Sunset angrier. "You just finished saying how brilliant I am! About how I'm smarter and stronger than anypony else! And now you want me to foalsit? That's a waste of my time and you know it!"
Celestia didn't budge. "Part of having power is knowing when and how it is to be used. Pairing you with a foal is a valuable lesson, Sunset Shimmer. Not every problem is solved with power," she lied. "I was going to ask Professor Trilby to assist, but as you started a fight in his class it seems appropriate for you to take his place as an apology."
Grumbling, Sunset didn't argue. She knew she couldn't - it was a matter of power, and Princess Celestia still had more. "Is there a third punishment? Do the scullery maids need extra hooves too?"
The sarcasm wasn't lost on Celestia - but she brushed it off with no more than a thin frown. "I don't want to distract you from your work with Princess Cadance. That's far more important right now."
Scowling, Sunset grunted and turned back to her book.
It was a victory for the Princess, and she took it without pushing her luck. "I will have Kibitz let you know the filly's schedule." She took two steps towards the door before pausing again. "Please don't spend too much time pouting in your room, Sunset. I would be very sad if you missed dinner."
All she got in response was another grunt.
And later that evening, Sunset didn't show up for dinner.
Not specifically the greenery or the bright flowers or the ugly statues, mind. She hated it for the same reason she hated a lot of places: the lack of control.
When possible, Sunset preferred to keep encounters to her room because it was someplace she controlled - it was her space, laid out how she wanted it and secure in her protections. It was a place of power for her. The rest of the castle? That was Princess Celestia's place of power, surrounding Sunset's on all sides. Out here, Sunset was always the lesser.
At the same time, when Cadance practically begged for Sunset to meet her in the gardens for their next lesson? Sunset couldn't deny her. Mostly because she couldn't come up with a good reason without it being an obvious power-play (and that would admit weakness, ironically.)
So around her the birds were singing, the sun was shining and Sunset was grumpy.
Cadance smiled beatifically.
"Sunset! I'm so happy you could join me!"
The happiness was not returned. Sunset grunted in acknowledgement, though.
It didn't slow Cadance one bit. She cheerfully pranced around the little tea table she'd had set up for them beside the zinnias and approached Sunset. But just in time, she stopped short with an abrupt look of concern. "Sunset? I'm going to hug you - if that's okay."
That she asked was a surprise - one that Sunset masked with an irate snort before giving a grudging nod.
And then Cadance wrapped Sunset up in a big wing-hug.
It took a moment, but Sunset leaned into it. A little.
Breaking away, Cadance cantered back towards the table. "So I've ordered more of those sandwiches we both like from Gastro for lunch later, plus I already have tea and some light pastry out for us now. This way when we have to take a break because my magical endurance is still low, we can be comfortable!"
Cadance smiled too much. Sunset didn't like it. But she put her best cheerful fake grin on in return. "Great."
"Anyway! I had a wonderful idea for our lesson today." Cadance continued to trot, passing the tea table, the zinnias and to a small open greenspace that faced the center of the rose gardens.
Sunset immediately raised an eyebrow. "I'm sorry, you think you're deciding what I'm teaching now?"
Cadance merely shrugged. "I just thought we could do two things at once. We wanted to learn more about each other, so I decided to share one of my hobbies with you. And by coincidence, I think it could make good practice." And to pre-empt the next question, she picked up a set of wooden rods from the ground. A moment of setting up - and then she placed a blank canvas on the easel. "Tada!"
"Uuuh..." Sunset didn't want to admit her confusion, but that didn't make her any less confused.
"It's for painting," Cadance explained without being even slightly fooled by Sunset's attempt to hide her thoughts. "Normally I paint by feathertip, but I thought it might be useful to do it unicorn style." Her horn lit up - with only mild concentration on her own part - and lifted one of the thin brushes up with a flourish. "See? Perfect for practicing my fine manipulation and dexterity!"
Sunset grunted, still covering for herself. "Yeah, I get that part. But what do you mean about sharing your hobbies?"
Beaming like a lighthouse, Cadance motioned at the ground beside her. "Because I brought a second easel and canvas! We can paint together!"
Once more, Sunset squinted in confusion. "...Why." Before Cadance could respond, Sunset rephrased herself. "I mean, why would I want to? I stopped playing with hoofpaints years ago."
"Why do you want to do any of your hobbies?" Cadance squint-glared at the paint-pots as she levitated them individually up into position. "I paint because it's fun and it helps me work out my emotions."
Sunset snorted loudly. "I don't have anything to 'work out'."
The sarcasm washed off Cadance's back like rain off a duck. "If you say so! But what's the harm in giving it a try?" She turned her head to smile, fixing Sunset's eyes with her own. "You said you wanted us to share stuff and learn about each other. This is part of learning about me."
She had a point. It was unfair. Sunset grumbled - but trotted over to the second easel.
Beside her, Cadance dabbed her brush in a dark green paint, the tiny bit of extra weight making it wobble unsteadily in her magic. "I think I'm going to do a landscape today. There's a very nice set of flowers around that lilac bush near the hedge maze entrance that I already painted last week. Then I can compare when I do it by magic to when I paint by feather." She turned her head. "What do you feel like painting, Sunset?"
Her response was a lackluster shrug. "I dunno. Last thing I painted was a couple of stick-ponies and a sun with a smiley face. I was six." Sunset paused. "Maybe seven." Her eyes went to Cadance's canvas and the single glob of green she'd put on it so far. "This is your hobby. Shouldn't you be trying to teach me about it?"
"I can't tell you what you find fun," Cadance quipped with far too much cheer in her voice. "And I know you're about to say you don't think this is fun, but you haven't even tried!"
A grudging mutter was Sunset's only response - because Cadance was right. Or at least right enough to not be worth the argument.
The fluffy pink alicorn continued on. "If you want advice, I would suggest starting abstract. Making something picture perfect takes a lot of practice, but abstract works are more about the emotion you put into it than trying to get the veins on a leaf just right."
Sunset frowned, looking the canvas over again. "I guess? That isn't much to work with, though."
"Just paint what's in your mind!" Cadance was far too perky as she said it. "It's like therapy! Take what's inside your head and get it out into the world."
Again, a frown from Sunset. "So what's inside your head is a lilac bush?"
Cadance snorted, taking it as a joke. "No, it's... it's the same as how sometimes you want a good, solid meal to fill you up, and sometimes you want to eat chocolate all night." She unsteadily levitated the brush up, holding it away from the canvas as she compared her work to the real original. "I want to do something more precise right now."
"And you think I want something more abstract." Sunset squinted, now at the brush. She lifted it with her magic, slowly rotating it around in front of her.
"I think," Cadance offered, "That you're a pony with very strong emotions and that expressing those should come naturally to you." She started on the dark green of the bush, heavy-laden brush unsteadily wobbling in her magical grip with each wide stroke.
That was entirely wrong, of course. Sunset prided herself on not expressing her emotions. Not that Cadance had any way of knowing that.
There was another moment of hesitation - and then Sunset definitively jammed her brush in the glob of red paint.
Cadance bit her lower lip.
Sunset glared at the alicorn, already feeling the scolding coming.
"Be careful not to damage the brush's bristles?" Cadance's smile was at least mostly earnest.
Sunset grunted in response and turned to her easel. Then she redirected the frustration at Cadance's little admonishment into a slashing stroke that left a bleeding red wound across her canvas.
And Sunset frowned more at the momentary feeling of cathartic release.
Then she made another stroke - this one downwards, with more of a curve to it. Then another, swooping to the side. Sunset swang the brush around, sweeping it through the paint to pick up a fresh glob before giving the canvas another wild stroke.
The brush smashed against the canvas in a barrage that splattered the flat white with stunning crimson.
Somewhere along the way, her lips pulled back into a manic grin.
Yellow now - pale goldenrod. Sunset's tail thrashed as the brush moved across the canvas in decisive, violent strokes.
And yet, despite the strong purpose behind each movement? There was no plan. And there was something liberating about that - for so long, everything Sunset had done was part of a plan. Part of Celestia's plan at first, then part of her own once she had seen the Mirror. Every action taken towards a goal. Keep pushing, keep focused.
But there was nothing calculated about the paint. Sunset simply slapped it on, placing each stroke's worth where instinct and gut feeling told her to. Intellectually she knew that made it empty - acting without purpose, without direction. And yet she couldn't deny that there was something almost... weightless about it. Each time her brush moved without that purpose, something primal inside her squirmed and pushed harder - that gut instinct trying to throw off her iron-willed control.
Orange paint hit the canvas, but Sunset's movements were slowing now. The initial rush was past and her thoughts were catching up again, encroaching on that momentary lapse of regimented discipline to clamp down her internal restraint again. And she ground to a halt, brush hanging in mid-air and a deep frown on her face over the uncharacteristic outburst.
"Hm." Cadance's voice broke Sunset the rest of the way out of her reverie. The unicorn's head whipped around, ready with a snappy retort to the oncoming critique. But Cadance's tongue wasn't nearly as sharp as Sunset expected. "That's your cutie mark, right?"
Sunset looked back to her canvas. Rather than answer, she found her mouth dry.
"That's pretty common," Cadance noted blithely. "Ponies know their mark better than anything, really, so it makes a good first subject for art." The alicorn squinted a little. "It's a little... abstract, but I think it came out pretty well!"
What Cadance called 'abstract' was what Sunset (and any other pony with sense) would call 'sloppy and amateurish'. Which, to be fair, was expected as Sunset's first experience holding a paintbrush had been less than half an hour before. But it wasn't the low quality that had Sunset's heart racing.
Because yes, she knew her mark. The blazing red and yellow sun was imprinted in her mind in a way nothing else could be. And while (once you accounted for the artist's lack of skill) the red half was correct? The yellow side was not. The fiery rays that came off it curved the wrong way, hooking back on themselves. They were too regimented and regular. The painting was only half Sunset's cutie mark - the other yellow half was undeniably Princess Celestia's.
Not that Cadance noticed. It wasn't her mark, after all. It wasn't burned into her very soul. So she smiled and complimented and laughed while Sunset's bile-sour breath hung in her throat.
Sunset swallowed it down. A princess wouldn't be so easily rattled. A princess couldn't afford to be. So Sunset Shimmer couldn't be, either.
"Not bad for a first attempt," Sunset quipped through a smile fake as a 3-bit coin. "Gotta admit, it's a little different than hoofpainting."
Cadance giggled musically. "You seemed pretty focused on it, too." A smug smirk played over her lips and she gave Sunset a playful nudge. "I'm guessing that means you enjoyed yourself?"
She hadn't. The directionless, meaningless half-hour went against everything Sunset Shimmer defined herself as. It was nothing but a lazy waste of time. She knew it had to be. So Sunset shrugged. "Eh."
Anther nudge from Cadance, with the smugness of her smile increasing. "But I bet you wouldn't say no if I made this a regular part of our time together?"
Sunset hesitated. It was wasteful and stupid. But. But it also got into Cadance's good graces. So it was part of the plan - and only because it was, Sunset grudgingly nodded. "We could keep it as part of the practice exercises."
With a gleeful giggle, Cadance clapped her hooves. "Wonderful!" She spun about, grabbing her own work in her hooves - only to be interrupted by Sunset clearing her throat loudly.
"Horn," Sunset admonished.
Meekly, Cadance replaced the canvas and lifted it again with her unsteady magic.
Sunset nodded approvingly at the action - then looked at the art.
She squinted.
She hummed.
She nodded.
"Cool, I guess."
Cadance pursed her lips. "I meant how does it look for my magical dexterity."
Sunset looked at the painting again and frowned. "You do realize I don't know a thing about art, right? I mean..." She motioned at her own drying canvas. "It looks okay to me because you've got more paint on this than on you."
Instantly, Cadance started looking over herself for stray spots of paint. There were none - but that little show was enough to bring a smile back to Sunset's face and a laugh to her lips.
Giving the pink princess a gentle shove, Sunset directed her towards the tea table. "Come on, lunch is gonna be here soon. Let's eat and talk basic theory."
The two plopped down in their respective chairs, and Sunset lifted up one of the little pastries that had been brought out to tide them over before the meal proper. "So beginner unicorns think about their magic enveloping what they're manipulating. And they're not wrong about that - it's the easy way." She rotated the apple turnover in the air. "Kinda like this. It's easy when you're putting all the filling inside one big lump of dough." Sunset cracked it open, showing off the sugary filling. "Experts know that you don't need to, though. It's harder to only cover a little of an object with your magic and still lift it, because you have to worry about balance, weight distribution, all of that. Like filling leaking out of the pastry. But you can cover more filling with less dough - or use less magic to manipulate a specific object, leaving you more to do other things."
Cadance reached out with her own, feebly pulling half of the turnover out of Sunset's magical grip. "Okay, I think that makes sense..."
Sunset nodded. "Right. So that's the principle behind your next lesson - let's talk about manipulating multiple objects at once..."
It had taken most of her free time across a week, but Sunset had her letter ready on time.
A single page, front and back - her greatest work yet. A masterpiece of passive aggression, it apologized to Blueblood in flowery terms and showered him with compliments. Every single one was backhanded, of course, and the apology was as close to blaming him as Sunset could manage while still maintaining a veneer of plausible deniability. The basics of the first draft had been quick to write, but Sunset had spent days afterwards giving it every tweak she could. Sleep had been lost over crafting words as precise as needles.
And not a single iota of Sunset Shimmer regretted spending it. Blueblood's body had escaped their fight unscathed, but Sunset knew a few things about how to bleed somepony's pride.
She praised all the hard work he had done to reach the top of the bell curve; she cited his amazing self-confidence that overcame all the other ponies talking about his shortcomings; she admired his skill with cosmetics to hide his many blemishes; she lavished him with compliments about how masterfully he had reminded everypony about how great his ancestors were in spite of how their modern descendants had let it slip away.
And then it had all been cut down to a single sheet of parchment, rolled to a perfect scroll (with a blank second sheet around it to keep the outward appearance clean), and then sealed with a wax seal Sunset had created for herself - one that bore the heraldry she would use once she became a princess, rather than some hoof-me-down from a musty dead relative like Blueblood's own.
The palace courier arrived at Sunset's door just as she was putting on the finishing touches: using a toothpick to spread a little gold paint to the appropriate spots of the seal to really highlight her mark. It was timed just as she had predicted: right after breakfast on the day Princess Celestia had told them the letters needed to be delivered by. Typical Blueblood, holding off until the last second. (Not that Sunset had intended on doing differently.) Messages were exchanged: Sunset's tightly-bound scroll for a crisp, rather modern envelope that bore Blueblood's wax seal on the flap - the heraldry of House Platinum, with Blueblood's own cutie mark in the bottom-left corner.
Sunset dismissed the courier with barely more than a wave, her attention solidly on the snow-white paper before her. For all her bravado, she knew that Blueblood was also fairly talented with words - he could snipe and be snide with the best of them. He would show her no more mercy than she had shown him. So she hesitated, sitting at her desk and gathering herself for a long, tense moment.
Then she slashed it open with a mote of magic and pulled the letter out.
Three single-sided pages, each piece of fresh, spotless paper folded crisply. Black ink with a little bit of sand to help it dry. And Blueblood's extra-thin calligraphy made clear he'd used a fresh quill as well.
Bracing herself, Sunset read the first lines.
To Sunset Shimmer Auntie Celestia's most brilliant student
Sunset snorted quietly. It was rich, seeing Blueblood use Celestia's pet term for Sunset.
To begin with, I will apologize for my rash actions the other day. While we both were in the wrong in our own ways, that does not justify my actions. It is a disservice to my House and to my personal honor to engage in such actions with another pony of high standing.
Sunset's derision faded into confusion. That... that sounded a lot like a legitimate apology. She even re-read the paragraph twice to be sure she hadn't missed a subtext - but she couldn't find any. He was probably just trying to start from the high ground, though.
And I do stress of high standing -- while there are some who would deny the reality, I am not fool enough to miss it. You are, for the moment, of common blood. But it is most certain you will be the foundation of a noble house of your own once you come of age, should you not choose to join with an existing one. So while I cannot call you a peer, I similarly cannot say you will not soon be adequately close to such.
For Blueblood, it was probably a compliment. But a part of Sunset's brain still snarled and frothed at the implication that she would settle for mere nobility rather than being a Princess. (It was held back by the rational part that reminded her that she hadn't exactly shared her plans with anypony, let alone Blueblood, and that being angry at him for something he couldn't possibly be aware of made no sense.)
So I consider this to have been a solitary error that shall not be repeated. I have no problem defending myself and my honor -- as any noble scion must -- but this incident has taught me the lesson that this sort of conflict is beneath both of us.
Sunset clenched her teeth. She didn't need the reminder that he was beneath her.
With that out of the way, I should get to the bulk of this letter. Auntie has suggested we mend our rift by providing proper compliments to one another, and I shall not fail in that command. Fortunately, it is quite easy given your prolific talents.
That you are magically gifted is something I need not state -- it is obvious to any who so much as stands in your presence. You are most certainly the most powerful unicorn in Canterlot, else Auntie Celestia wouldn't have made you her personal student. Likely it places you above every unicorn in Equestria, but my experience with rural hedge-wizards is lacking so I cannot be as definitive with that statement.
What truly sets you apart from that power is your confidence, however. Many a mage has been handicapped by their bookish nature, held from greatness by their own insecurities. But you embrace your power and do not shy from the application of it. That is an admirable trait, for power means nothing if one will not use it.
Her frown deepened. Mild condescension aside - for that was just Blueblood's natural state of being - that had been an actual compliment.
Sunset read it again to make sure she hadn't missed any subtext.
Then she sprinted through the remainder, finding the following two pages to be the same. Blueblood's words were packed with legitimate, earnest statements of admiration and profuse praise for Sunset's qualities. He praised her intelligence, her force of will, her cunning - he even appealed to her beauty, though he stated he was not currently interested in her. And every word seemed legitimate.
Sunset licked her suddenly dry lips.
Blueblood had written his letter of penance authentically and seemingly without a cruel word.
As opposed to Sunset's, which was full of every drop of vitriol she could muster.
Gears turned in her head as she pieced it together: there was only one reason why he would do such a thing. It was a trap. Any moment now he would be showing her letter to Princess Celestia, his eyes full of mock tears and begging for her punishment.
The fabric of space-time split with a ka-KRAK as Sunset Shimmer violently teleported halfway across the Palace grounds. Her room was replaced by Blueblood's own suite: his sitting room in specific, decked out with all the opulence of a noble who'd never known anything less than luxury and enjoyed flaunting it. Too many things gilded, for starters. Even the silk-cushioned chair Blueblood was lounging in was accented with enough gold to pay a Canterlot commoner's yearly wages.
There was a moment of inaction on both their parts: Sunset took a moment to recover from an unusually long teleport, while Blueblood was more simply caught off-guard. He had been waiting for her to come through the door rather than to appear behind him, and his carefully arranged pose with her letter in hoof was ruined by her failure to obey physics.
Sunset recovered first and used that chance to snatch the unfurled scroll out of Blueblood's grip with her magic. It incinerated almost instantly, banishing every detail of her words before he could try and stop her.
It took another second for Blueblood to react, and one more past that to process what had happened. Then, distressingly, he smiled. "Ah, Sunset Shimmer. I take it you got my letter."
"I did," Sunset snarled back.
He laughed - the sort of laugh that reflexively demanded a punch in return. "I had hoped you would be flattered by my words, but I suppose that isn't quite who you are. Pity," he added with a mocking sniff. "I truly did mean all of it."
Sunset didn't buy it for a moment. "I know what you're up to," she accused. "But I destroyed the letter, so now you can't go crying to Princess Celestia about how I hurt your feelings." She made sure to add a mocking sneer to the last word.
But Blueblood's smile didn't falter. "I wasn't going to," came his response.
"What?"
"I wasn't going to show it to her," he repeated. "That wasn't the point." Turning the chair around to face Sunset, Blueblood kept smiling. "The point, before you ask, was to let you know I could have."
Sunset snorted, growing more irate with each smug word of his. "That you could have run and hidden behind her legs?"
"Exactly." Blueblood clicked his tongue. "You value power, Sunset Shimmer. You're strong and you know it - and with how you strut it around like a show dog, you ensure everypony else knows it, too. But at the end of the day, all your power is only notable compared to other unicorns. Princess--"
Blueblood's words stopped as his neck was enveloped by teal magic. Sunset squeezed until she heard him gurgle - then her burst of anger faded just enough to realize what she was doing and release the petulant prince.
Everything was quiet for a minute after that as Blueblood caught his breath and Sunset pushed her fury down further.
"Your power--" Blueblood stopped mid-croak to clear his throat before trying again. "Your power is always going to be second, because you value the wrong kind."
"Just look how you reacted," he continued. "At the mere possibility that I could make you look bad in her eyes, you teleported across the Palace, destroyed the letter - without even slowing down to make sure that's what the scroll actually was - and then physically attacked me."
Sunset winced at the blunt statement. "I--"
Blueblood waved his hoof dismissively. "You lost control, it's who you are, I'm not going bother holding it against you."
Which simply made Sunset's eyes narrow in suspicion.
"I don't need to hold it against you," Blueblood clarified. "Just as I don't need to run to Auntie about the contents of your letter. It's enough that you know that I could, and that sends you scurrying. That's my point, Miss Shimmer. You insist you're more powerful than I am, but I still got you to act how I wanted. And, if I took any of that to Auntie, I could have done far worse."
Sunset's lips curled to a snarl just as his came to a sharkish grin.
With the causal air of somepony who hadn't just been nearly strangled two minutes before, Blueblood stood up and opened the door to the hall with his magic. "Remember that next time you decide to interfere with me. I may not be able to level a mountain with my horn, but I am most certainly capable of getting you to do what I want. Of your own free will, no less."
The rage rose in Sunset's gut again - and this time, she had the common sense to remove herself before it became overwhelming. "We're not through, Blueblood," she snarled as she trotted out of his suite.
He ignored the threat - but did add his own retort. "I'm scheduled to have tea with Princess Cadance on Tuesday. I do hope she won't have to reschedule again." He didn't even bother to add a threat.
She indulged the anger for a moment by slamming the door behind her with enough force to dislodge a hinge.
That Cadance was shouting it this time showed serious progress - two days before when they had started the next phase of training, it had been Sunset pushing the envelope. Now the newest princess was practically reveling in their little game.
Taking it as a challenge, Sunset picked up two golf balls this time and hurled them both at Cadance simultaneously. They shot across the room with frightening velocity, each aiming for one of the alicorn's eyes.
In response, Cadance lit her horn once more. Baby blue magic batted the left ball away, sending it careening into the corner before it ricocheted off the wall and flew up into the air. The right ball got a little closer before Cadance caught it in her magic, bringing it to a stop in mid-air two full lengths away from her face. She smiled joyfully at Sunset - right before the unicorn's own horn flared for a second.
High above, her own teal magic smacked the still airborne golf ball downwards.
It hit Cadance right between her shoulders, dropping her to her knees with a yelp.
"Getting cocky," Sunset teasingly pointed out as she closed the gap between them. "Remember that if you deflect a projectile, you're not controlling it and there's nothing saying your attacker can't retake control."
Cadance's retort was a painful groan.
Reaching out with a hoof, Sunset tried to help Cadance up again - and failed. The alicorn's legs wobbled and buckled as soon as she tried, unable to support her gangly teenage body. "...Maybe we should take five," Sunset admitted.
Splitting away, Sunset trotted over to their bags - hoofsteps echoing in the emptiness of the room. It had been at her (well, at Princess Celestia's) request that the Royal Guard's practice chamber was cleared out for them: it provided an open space that was both reinforced against magical damage and kept gawkers out. Teaching Cadance to defend herself in the open would be a cue to the world that she couldn't defend herself - at least that had been Sunset's stated logic behind the privacy. In truth, it had been more a desire to keep the new alicorn alone with her.
Because of what was coming up with the next lesson.
Retrieving an ice pack and a water bottle out of the bag she'd brought, Sunset returned to Cadance's side. The ice went on the spot the golf ball had impacted, causing the alicorn to hiss. "Oh, it'll be fine in a few minutes," Sunset scolded as she passed the water bottle to Cadance with her other hoof. "I didn't hit you that hard."
"Tell that to my spine." Cadance groaned before slowly rolling her shoulders. "I'm going to bruise there for sure."
Sunset rolled her eyes and booped Cadance with the bottle. This time, she got the message and took a drink.
Leaving Cadance with her ice pack and water, Sunset plopped down on the floor a few steps away. "Really, though. You're making good progress. I know I was joking about how you had the magic of a toddler a few weeks ago, but you've caught up to average teenage unicorn in pretty good time."
Cadance's lips released the now half-empty bottle with a slight pop. "I credit my teacher," she quipped with a grin.
Sunset rolled her eyes. "Yeah yeah. The point is that I'll admit you're getting the hang of levitation really well. Your endurance still needs work, but that comes gradually from using it. I think it's time we go past what the average teenage unicorn gets and start talking proper wizard work."
The implications sharply widened Cadance's eyes. With a wobble, she struggled to her hooves again and tried to set her neck straight. "I'm ready," she solemnly pronounced.
Sunset snorted. "No you're not. That's the point." She sighed, head shaking. "If I had my way, we'd start with something easier like creating light or an alarm clock enchantment, but Princess Celestia's insisting on defensive magic so..." Sunset sighed loudly. "So I guess more advanced means true shields."
There was a momentary waver in Cadance's determined expression - Sunset caught it out of the corner of her eye. Just a moment of fear, quickly banished. It was gone fast enough for Cadance to firmly nod with a conviction she obviously didn't have. "Right. Shields."
"Yeah." Sunset paused for a moment to mentally organize her thoughts. "So levitation works fine as a defensive tool if you're trying to stop physical projectiles and if you see it coming. But if you don't know where it's coming from or if it's a magical attack, levitation won't cut it. Plus levitation can be overwhelmed if they just keep firing at you - one's easy, two is tougher, fifty is impossible. So that's where a shield comes in."
Lighting her horn, Sunset projected a bubble of teal magic around herself. It took barely an instant before it popped into existence, surrounding her completely in a glittering sphere. "A shield is omni-directional, doesn't care about if what it stops is physical or not, and it lasts as long as you have magic regardless of how much gets thrown at you."
Inching closer, Cadance prodded the bubble with a cautious hoof. The bubble momentarily hardened at the impact, gleaming like metal before reverting to a softer magical glow.
"It's technically less efficient," Sunset pointed out, "But you've got an alicorn's magic reserves so that's like saying a bucket drains faster than the ocean."
Cadance giggled a little. "I'm a lake at most and you know it."
Sunset shrugged and dropped her shield - it disintegrated and wafted away like dust on an unseen breeze. "So eventually you'll be able to project a shield so fast it's an automatic reaction. But that's a long ways off, and you've gotta start somewhere. So - repeat after me."
Bracing her hooves, Cadance prepared herself for anything.
Sunset started humming.
Cadance blinked.
The hum continued - a single, steady note.
"Um."
Sunset frowned at Cadance before humming louder.
The alicorn blinked. Then she got it. "Oh!" And she started humming as well, matching the tone.
After a few seconds to make sure she had it, Sunset stopped. "Alright, now I want you to remember that tone. Did you feel how it felt?"
Again Cadance's expression immediately went to confusion. "It, um, felt like a G sharp?"
Sunset facehoofed. "Okay, I explained that wrong. Think about when you were humming that note. When you make a sound, you should be able to feel the way it vibrates in your head - there's a resonance in your throat and jaw. That's the feeling I want you to concentrate on and remember."
It took a moment for Cadance to understand - then she started humming again. This time, her face was wound tight with concentration as she focused on the feeling and tried to commit it to memory.
As she did, Sunset started lecturing again. "Once you have that tone in your mind, try to extend it upwards. Have your horn match the resonance you were feeling in your jaw. Then take your magic and push."
There was a loud thrum in the air as a sphere of baby blue magic expanded outwards from Cadance's horn. It enveloped her for a moment - glowing brightly and vibrating slightly - before it expanded further and dissipated into invisibility. The effort dropped Cadance to her knees again, panting.
Sunset, meanwhile, clapped her hooves. "You got it! I'm gonna be honest, I didn't think you'd manage on the first try." She smirked. "Guess I'm a better teacher than I thought."
"That... that was really draining," Cadance panted, her whole body heaving with each breath.
Sunset sauntered over and gave her a hoof up. "And it gets a lot worse once you actually have to stop something. But it's like any other magic, and you'll build up endurance. C'mon!" She gave Cadance a not-too-gentle elbow to the ribs. "You should be happy!"
Cadance's smile was hesitant, but it was there. "Yeah. Yeah." She took another deep breath to steady herself further. "Is that how shields are when you do it? That much magic?"
"Nope!" Sunset's smile stayed wide - even if it was a lot thinner now. "What you did is Tritone's Projection - it's a beginner's shielding spell. It isn't good, but it's decent enough and pretty easy to learn. I use a variant on Brilliant Brocade's Barrier, which is derived from Starswirl's own shielding spell." But before Cadance could ask the obvious question, Sunset continued. "I didn't use that one because it's grounded in a lot of high magic theory. You aren't even up to understanding Meadowbrook's Equation yet. Tritone is easy to figure out because it relies on the music as a mnemonic - the 'shield' is just a bubble of sound around you manifested as magic."
Briefly, Cadance considered that before nodding. "Okay. That makes sense. It's a lot easier to picture that than some complicated magic spell." She hummed again experimentally, though this time nothing projected. "I can kind of feel it, now that I know what I'm trying to do."
"And you'll eventually know it well enough that everything will be an automatic reaction," Sunset noted. "At least, until we teach you a better spell."
Cadance frowned. "Right. It makes sense that yours is better."
Sunset hesitated briefly, then nodded. "More efficient," she allowed. "And thought is faster than sound, so it projects faster." Again, she hesitated - then revealed what Cadance would almost certainly discover on her own if she read up. "And there's one big flaw with Tritone's: harmony."
Cadance blinked uncomprehendingly. "Harmony's a flaw?"
"Tritone's operates on that note you hum." Sunset's lips curled into a thoughtful line as she tried to dumb it all down for the novice alicorn. "So if somepony knows what that frequency is and matches it properly, their spell harmonizes with the bubble and your shield thinks their magic is your magic because it has the same resonance."
Cadance's ears flattened. "And it would go right through."
A nod. "Like goats through grass. So you need to be careful about using it - an experienced mage who knows what to look for will pick up on your note after a few casts. And you can't disguise it: when Tritone's deflects something, it makes a loud ringing noise in the note you're using." Sunset, of course, didn't let Cadance in on the other part. The reason she'd chosen Tritone's Projection over other beginner shielding spells: there was already one unicorn who knew what frequency would get through Cadance's shield. And Sunset Shimmer knew how valuable an ace in the hole was.
Unaware of that, Cadance nodded solemnly. "I understand, Sunset." Then she hugged the unicorn. "Thank you. I know Princess Celestia told you to teach me, but I'm still glad you care."
Sunset automatically stiffened when she was hugged - but quickly allowed herself to relax into Cadance's embrace. "I don't want you hurt, either." Which was at least a little true. "That's one thing Princess Celestia and I agree on."
Breaking apart, Sunset picked up the water bottle again and offered it over. "Total truth, I expected that to take us the rest of the day. I guess you're a natural with shields." She paused. "Or with music. That's more likely, Cadenza."
Cadance rolled her eyes as she took the water. "Ugh. I know that's my formal name but it just sounds so stuffy. There's a reason I introduce myself as Cadance." She took a quick gulp before continuing. "After my coronation, did you know it took almost a month for the nobles to stop trying to call me that? It wasn't until Blueblood stepped in and started talking to them on my behalf that it stopped."
Internally, Sunset invented several new swear words. Outwardly? "Oh, really? That seems out of character for him."
"Yes, it surprised me too." Cadance drained the last of the water bottle, then unsteadily floated it back into the bag. "But when I mentioned my problem, he was eager to help and I appreciate that. Everypony says he's..." She bit her lip. "Well, most of the non-nobles aren't fond of him. But everypony deserves a chance." Her voice practically glowed with earnest naivete.
Sunset's eyes rolled hard enough to turn her head. "Sure."
Trotting around to pick up the scattered golf balls, Cadance continued airily. "He's jealous of you, you know."
"Right," Sunset grunted. "Jealous."
"He is!" Cadance didn't let it go so easily. "He would never admit it, but I can tell. You're everything he wants to be." She paused her gathering to quickly tick off a list. "You're smart, powerful, confident, beautiful, widely respected, Princess Celestia trusts you--"
She was cut off by a sarcastic snort from Sunset - who immediately realized she couldn't say what she was thinking. Sure, Celestia trusted her: trusted her like a bonfire. Something that kept you warm and lit up the night, but also something to be contained and feared, lest it become too powerful to control.
But she couldn't say that to Cadance. So Sunset had to scramble and cover her brief misstep. "Look, Cadance, I get what you're trying to say." She crossed the distance between them to put a hoof on the other mare's shoulder. "But Blueblood's not jealous." She paused. "Well, okay, maybe he is but that's not the point. He's a douche. He's a greedy, self-centered jerk and he's only being nice to you because he wants to use you."
In a surprising display of savvy, Cadance smiled. "Him and every other noble pony in this city. But at least he's being nice while doing it instead of looking down his muzzle at me." She dropped the golf balls she'd collected into the bag Sunset had brought them in, plonking them down one at a time with a loud thud. "I'm not joking when I say you're my only real friend, Sunset. Everypony else just wants something."
It took effort for Sunset not to wince. "So why bother with him at all?"
"Because he might become a friend," Cadance defended. "And I need every one I can get."
Sunset was quick to retort. "You don't need anypony, Cadance. You're an alicorn. You have more than enough power on your own."
The look that Cadance gave her eerily reminded Sunset of ones Princess Celestia did in similar moments. It was a mixture of pity at a supposed lack of understanding and of exasperation over failed communication. It - as always - instantly rubbed Sunset the wrong way and put her hackles up.
Cadance at least noticed the way that Sunset's ears went flat and her lips drew to a tight line. She responded by coming in and giving the unicorn a nuzzle - a wholly unexpected one. Sunset's brain jumped the tracks, her anger instantly squeezed out of her and replaced by a confused blush.
Pulling back, Cadance's look of pity was replaced by a friendly smile. "I need you." She stepped away. "But I've also got to get a shower. I promised Blueblood tea today, and I don't want to miss it again. Ending early means I can make sure I won't!"
Words failed to form in Sunset's mouth, and all she could do was dumbly nod as Cadance departed with a wave.
A good two minutes later, the sourness returned. She had to get out ahead of Blueblood before he ruined Cadance - and Sunset's plans.
Perhaps the thing Sunset Shimmer disliked most was waiting.
In many ways, she understood it was a necessary evil - but that didn't make it less evil. There were too many things to do in life for time to be wasted on hoping somepony would get on with it.
In this case it was waiting on Princess Celestia and that just made the experience even more uncomfortable. Every time she forced Sunset to wait, it was a 50/50 shot for the reasons. Half the time, it was because she was too busy and would get around to remembering Sunset eventually; the other half, it was a purposeful flex to remind Sunset who was in charge.
So waiting for the Princess always put Sunset on edge with frustration. And it was worse this time, because it was part of Sunset's punishment. Her 'valuable lesson' of foalsitting because she dared to put Blueblood in his place. And now, instead of doing something important? Sunset Shimmer was waiting in the hallway outside of Celestia's office, wasting her time until the Princess allowed Sunset to enter... and then waste more time escorting a foal around.
At least the bench was comfortable: thick, once-plush cushions that had been worn down by decades of students sitting outside the office. Most either squirming as they waited for the Princess' blessing on their work or curled up anticipating doom for their transgressions. Few - if any - had sat with the level of irritation Sunset had. And that, in her heart, told her how much better she was. She had none of that pathetic fear or devotion to tie her down.
Minutes passed, ticking by on the pendulum of the overly loud clock. It was old enough for Sunset's great-grandparents to have used it to tell time and the teak masterwork was easily worth as much as a pony's house - yet it sat here in a side hall, almost as an afterthought. Hung by Celestia not because of its value, but simply because she needed a clock outside her office.
Before Sunset could think further on that (or her own grumbling), the wait came to an end as the office door opened. Princess Celestia was the first out, her size dominating the doorway as she spoke back over her shoulder. "--and I'm certain your daughter will have plenty of opportunity to flourish here!" She turned her head with a smile. "Excellent, and here's just the pony I was expecting."
The Princess stepped aside, letting the parents and their filly past her. Neither parent struck Sunset as particularly noteworthy - the parents of students rarely were. The filly was worth paying attention to, though.
She was a little thing - a tad pudgy, but who wasn't at that age? And she was absurdly young: she didn't even have her cutie mark yet. What she did have, however, were glasses like train windows that obscured half her face. The rest of her was almost mundane - a creamy coat the same shade as old paper; a red and purple mane that looked like it was cut with a t-square; the look of being completely overwhelmed that was so common for new students.
"Sunset," Princess Celestia said with a placid smile, "This is the new student I told you about. Her name is Moondancer."
In response, Sunset put on her fakest smile for the filly. "Hi there. I'm Sunset Shimmer, Princess Celestia's personal student."
"Moondancer will be attending the school next year," Celestia outlined. "Her parents and I are going to be arranging the specifics, and I would like you to take her on a tour while we do that."
A tiny inconsistency scratched at Sunset's mind like a burr under a saddle. "Wait, doesn't she have to pass the entrance exam first?"
Princess Celestia smiled - that same smile she used when she knew something Sunset didn't. "Actually, Moondancer already passed her exam this past summer. Her parents simply decided it was best for her to stay at home for a year first. She did pass the exam at an exceptionally early age."
Sunset's eyes went from the young filly - flush with embarrassment - to Celestia and then back again. "I see."
And the Princess took it entirely at face value. "Please bring Moondancer to meet us in the conference room by the Puddinghead Lecture Hall in an hour, Sunset." She gave her student a little nod - then a second to the tiny filly - before walking away with the parents.
Silence hung between the remaining two until after the Princess and parents had rounded the hallway's corner. Then, finally alone, Sunset turned a critical eye to her young charge. "So they didn't think you could handle it and they held you back, huh."
It was less question than statement, but the young Moondancer seemed smart enough to understand. She nodded and in a surprisingly frustrated voice, replied with a simple "Yeah."
Sunset gave the filly a pat on the shoulder. "Trust me. I understand that all too well." She smiled down at her kindred spirit - and got a cautious one in return. Then Sunset motioned with her head. "Come on. Let me show you the school and I can give you some pointers on how to overcome ponies underestimating you."
Moondancer's face lit up with almost certainly misplaced eagerness.
Over the next three quarters of an hour, Sunset got a pretty good feel for what kind of filly Moondancer was. She showed zero interest in places like the hoofball field and the music room, but the way her eyes lit up the moment they entered the library brought pleasant memories back to Sunset of her own first days at the school. It helped as well that Moondancer limited her questions to intelligent things - there were no queries about recess or clubs, just strict academics. (Well, plus more than a few questions about what it was like to be the Princess' personal student, but Sunset considered those just common sense curiosity.)
Sunset had also dropped a few pop quizzes on her - which had actually excited the filly! They were bare-bones, but for Moondancer's age? Sunset considered them to be challenging. And the filly had actually done fairly well: she was certainly well-read, and she was above Cadance's current level of magic theory. Moondancer even knew Meadowbrook's Equation - though she didn't yet understand the theory behind it.
But that was okay. She was six.
Really, despite that Moondancer was barely old enough to be called a filly rather than a foal, she obviously had greater maturity and intelligence than ponies three or four years her senior. Plus she had managed to pass the entrance exam a year before her peers would attempt it. She showed more interest in knowledge and academics than most of Sunset's classmates, too.
Already in her mind, Sunset was setting up plans for the filly. After all, once she became a princess, she would need a personal student of her own.
But that was getting ahead of things. Moondancer wouldn't be arriving as a student for another ten months, and Sunset wasn't quite a princess yet.
Then again, it didn't hurt to lay the groundwork.
Sunset played her card as they left the cafeteria - a place that neither of them particularly cared for. (Sunset took almost all her meals from the far superior Palace chefs, and Moondancer expressed little preference for how she fueled her mind.) As they walked off from it, Sunset asked one simple question. "So where do you want to go next?"
The hesitation from Moondancer told Sunset all she needed to know. "Never been asked that before, have you?" She waited for the filly to nod. "You've always had somepony deciding for you. Somepony deciding that no matter how smart you are, they know better than you." She got another slow nod as Moondancer tried to understand just where this was going. "Well, I think you're smart enough to know what you want," Sunset continued. "So you can decide where you want to go next."
Moondancer's eyes were wide behind her glasses as she grasped the choice before her. It was another moment that Sunset understood well: that first taste of control over her own life, when an adult (well, 'adult') let her make a choice. It was the heady whiff of power and something difficult to understand for one so young. But Moondancer got it quickly - almost as quick as her answer. "The library," she excitedly said. "I want to go back to the library."
"Then we'll go to the library." Sunset confirmed with a sharp nod and turned their path back towards the grand building.
To say Moondancer was giddy was an understatement - she practically skipped her way over, little hooves clack-clacking on the paving stones with each excited high step. Sunset wasn't sure if the cause was the joy of making her own choice or the fact that they were going back to the library, but she approved in either case so it didn't matter much.
Halfway there, Sunset spoke up again. "Next year, you'll be able to come back to the library a lot."
"Any time I want to?" Moondancer's cheer spiked up to a new level.
"Not any time." Sunset pushed it back down again with evenly measured words. "Just because I see you're smart enough to choose what to do doesn't mean every pony does."
Moondancer - being six - wore her emotions on her sleeve and drooped to solemn disappointment. "Did they make you listen to them, too?"
She had her - and Sunset yanked the proverbial hook. "Not that much, because I'm the Princess' personal student. So that meant nopony got to tell me what to do." Except Princess Celestia - but Sunset didn't mention that part.
Moondancer simply pouted. "Lucky."
"I was," Sunset admitted. And then she let the pause hang just long enough to seem thoughtful. "Well, maybe I can help you?" And she couldn't help but sharkishly grin at Moondancer's look of unadulterated hope. "You can't be the Princess' student because I am. But maybe if I make you my student..."
"I'll be the Princess' student's student!" The little filly caught on quickly and literally jumped with joy. "And then you'll be the only one who can tell me what to do!"
"Right!" Sunset nodded at about half the rate that Moondancer was bouncing at. "And then you can show just how smart you are without dumb ponies holding you back."
They reached the main doors of the library, and Moondancer looked up at her older companion. "You'd really do that for me?"
Sunset gave a solemn, firm nod. "I would. Because I can recognize another smart pony that's being held back." She pushed the library's door open. "Ponies like us have to watch out for each other."
Much to Sunset's surprise, Moondancer didn't scramble into the library at the first opportunity. No - instead, she grabbed Sunset and hugged her. "Thank you!" Then she ran full tilt into the library.
And Sunset just stood there, caught completely off-guard. Unknowingly, Moondancer had just entered into rare company only otherwise occupied by alicorns: ponies who had hugged Sunset Shimmer. And Sunset was entirely unsure how to react to it.
But her reaction was meaningless, as Moondancer was already picking up a thick tome of Clover the Clever's writings in her wobbly light pink magic. So Sunset - after a good minute - shook her confusion off and came inside.
Sunset knew they were late, but she didn't realize how late until Princess Celestia came through the library doors. Her eyes shot to the clock - they were supposed to have arrived at the meeting thirty-two minutes before.
The Princess' eyes were to Sunset first, and then to Moondancer. The filly was still muzzle-deep in a book (True Sight's Unabridged Atlas of Arcane Observations in Astronomy) and managed to completely fail at noticing the massive white alicorn.
Before Celestia could say anything, however, Sunset moved between her and Moondancer. "Princess Celestia! I'm so sorry." That was enough to grab the filly's attention - the book thumped down to the table as Moondancer finally looked up and realized just what had happened. Fear blossomed onto the filly's face.
But only for a moment. "This is my fault," Sunset quickly interjected. Not that she needed to: there was no chance that Celestia would have blamed Moondancer for anything. But Moondancer didn't know that - all she saw was her older ally coming to her defense. As well, the idea of Sunset Shimmer readily admitting fault was enough to throw Celestia off her stride - and Sunset took advantage of that. "I know I should have brought Moondancer to the meeting after we finished the tour, but she found a book she liked and I just couldn't bring myself to have her stop learning."
The shot went right where Sunset wanted it to - Princess Celestia frowned. She obviously knew something was up, but criticizing Sunset for helping another student learn wasn't something she could do. Particularly not in front of a prospective new student she valued. So after a moment's sourness, the Princess put on her best smile and nodded. "Of course, Sunset. I suppose that just shows how good of a fit young Moondancer will be at my school. But," she gently chided, "It's time for her to go. Her parents are getting uneasy about their little filly."
Sunset bowed her head. "Of course, Princess Celestia."
With a curt nod, Celestia stepped around Sunset. "Moondancer? Come along, please."
Hopping down from the reading table, Moondancer went to Sunset's side first and hugged her again. "Thank you."
This time, Sunset managed to not stiffen up at the unexpected feeling. "I'll see you when you arrive on your first day next year," she whispered.
"Promise?"
Sunset nodded to the filly. "Promise."
Then Moondancer broke away and followed Princess Celestia out of the library.
Lunch taken in the eastern solarium was a bit of a deviation from the norm: Sunset's favorite chef, Gastronomique, was on vacation back to his griffon homelands. Instead lunch had been prepared by the pointedly less talented Hazelblossom and consisted of an eggplant gratin with a saffron-dusted apple salad on the side.
It was acceptable.
But the food being served was only about third on Sunset's mental list. No, it sat squarely below Cadance's current attitude and how that related to the painting both of them had been doing. And while they were taking a break, a glance over at the canvas told quite a story about the alicorn's mood.
The last three times they had painted together, Cadance's work had been almost insufferably happy: even her choices in landscapes were consistently sun-lit, cheerful, and filled with bright colors. Today's, though? Today, Cadance was painting in stormclouds. She had strayed from her usually lifelike portraits of what was around her to something more distant. A seascape - from her old home of Florentina, Sunset assumed - that showed a rocky shore cast under a heavy grey-black sky.
(Sunset, on the other hand, continued to delve into more abstract choices. Today, her work was an attempt to express the idea of flight - her dreams of alicorn wings and taking to the sky, rendered in oil on canvas.)
Knowing full well how bad the conversation might go, Sunset waited until Cadance finished eating before bringing the subject up. "So what's bugging you?" Cadance bobbled her cutlery: her magic was still unsteady enough that a simple awkward question threw off her control. They would have to work on that.
"Nothing?" Cadance lied like a fire insisting it wouldn't burn you.
Sunset rolled her eyes, not even dignifying the denial with words.
"Nothing!" came another empty protest.
This time, Sunset pressed a little harder. "Come on, Cadance. I can tell you're in a bad mood and--"
"How can you tell?" Cadance fired back, responding with disarming speed.
It took a moment - Sunset reeled at just how snippy the alicorn was today. But she had an answer, fortunately. "You told me that you use painting as a way to work out your emotions, and what you're painting today makes it pretty obvious that you aren't your usual sunny self."
Cadance's face brightened. "You actually listened when I said that?"
In response, Sunset snorted. "You seriously think I don't listen? I might not take other ponies' advice much, but that doesn't mean I ignore potentially useful information." Which was a bit of a lie, but Sunset didn't voice that part. "Besides, the whole point was getting to know each other more. I'd be a real jerk if I ignored you trying to do exactly what I asked."
Cadance's ears went flat. "Yeah. A jerk."
It took half a second for Sunset to fill in the mental blanks. "So you had tea with Blueblood earlier this week." For the second time in as many weeks, she failed to add.
"And it was lovely!" Cadance's anger spiked as her voice rose to a near-shout. A warning glare from Sunset tamped her anger - and volume - back down again. "We really did have a wonderful time. He and I had tea in the south garden, near the greenhouse. You know, the one with the foliage from Farasi?" A nod from Sunset was enough to prompt Cadance to continue. "It was great. We talked and laughed for hours."
Cadance trailed off and went silent until Sunset pushed again. "But?"
"But two days later I started hearing the rumors." Cadance spoke through clenched teeth, a slight hiss vibrating her trailing s. "And the day after that the rumors were confirmed when I started being congratulated. Blueblood's been telling everypony our tea-times were dates. Now half the school thinks he's my coltfriend."
Sunset chose her words carefully. "And he's not?" No judgement, but a little bit of a question and keeping things open-ended. And just unsure enough to provoke a reaction.
The provocation worked: Cadance let out a growl of frustration. "I would have considered it before, but not now!"
Outwardly, Sunset nodded with a solemn, sour face. Internally, she was grinning ear to ear. Blueblood had overplayed his hand! "I want to say I'm surprised, but I'm not. Blueblood's tried this before. Well," she waffled, "Not exactly this but it fits how he works." Picking up a bit more of the apple salad, Sunset motioned with her fork. "Mares like you and me? We're just something he chases because he thinks we'll boost his status and he assumes we're using him for the same thing. The first time he decided he wanted to start dating, he flat out told me what time the carriage would arrive to pick me up and to dress, and I quote, 'at least like an eight'."
"He didn't even ask first," Cadance rumbled. She was still for a moment before throwing her fork onto her plate with a clatter. "That is not how you date a pony!"
Now, it wasn't a surprise that the Princess of Love had strong opinions about the subject. Nor was it that even with her youth she had a certain level of instinctual expertise. There was an entirely different reason why Sunset froze up when Cadance said that: because behind the words, she heard the ringing bell of opportunity at the door.
Weeks of work had led to this point, and Blueblood would never know how much he had messed up. Sunset's evaluation a few minutes earlier had been wrong. He hadn't just messed up his chances with Cadance; he had given Sunset the perfect opportunity to move forward to the next stage in her plans.
At first, she couldn't speak - her lips were suddenly far too dry and her throat was tight as an Appleoosan knot contest. Sunset licked her lips and pushed to force her words out. "Cadance? What is the right way to date a pony?"
The time between Sunset asking that question and Cadance answering it couldn't have been much more than a second. But it seemed to stretch infinitely. Everything Sunset had worked for the last two and a half months relied on this: if Cadance took the question poorly in the heat of her Blueblood-fueled frustration, it would destroy the rapport the two of them had built. But if Cadance answered well? It solved the only real gap in Sunset's plans. The path to becoming an alicorn would open up, and Sunset's future would be assured.
Sunset was still as stone in that second. She didn't frighten easily, but she was too scared to breathe. Her heart stopped beating, frozen in the tension.
Despite Sunset's distress, Cadance wasn't in a rush to answer. She loudly hummed in thought. "Well," she decided on after painfully too long, "I can't really speak for other ponies, but if it were me?"
Sunset's heart beat again.
"I'm a little bit of an old fashioned romantic," Cadance admitted bashfully. "I know that probably seems a bit stereotypical for a pink pony all about love, but I really do enjoy it."
After taking a bite of the salad to buy a little recovery time, Sunset pressed. "What, like a strong stallion knight in shining armor?"
Cadance laughed. "No, no. Not romance novels, I mean being romantic. Little things like using the language of flowers to bring your special somepony a sweet message, or surprising them with a home-cooked meal of their favorite foods." She got around to retrieving her fork, hovering it in front of her and inspecting to make sure her earlier throw hadn't gotten it dirty. "Before dating, you need to ask them. And asking somepony out for the first time should be something both of you remember for the rest of your relationship, if not the rest of your lives. It's making a first impression - even if you already know each other, you're introducing yourself as a romantic partner instead of a friend."
Slowly, Sunset nodded as she processed that. "Okay, that makes sense. So I would want to make a big splash when I asked them."
But Cadance shook her head in response. "Not always. Not every pony wants something big, but every pony wants something that shows you care." She stopped, eyes widening before she abruptly changed tracks. "Sunset Shimmer! Are you asking because there's a pony you're interested in?"
In retrospect, it was a question Sunset should have anticipated. She hadn't - and that was her own foolish fault. So all she could do was look surprised and guilty. "Uh, well..."
That answer was enough for Cadance, and her grin grew several sizes. All the talk about Blueblood was banished from the alicorn's thoughts, replaced by the siren song of shipping. "You have to tell me the details!"
"No."
Cadance pouted. "Please?"
"Absolutely not."
A deeper pout.
Sunset rolled her eyes. "Cadance, if you keep doing that, I won't even ask you for advice."
With a long-suffering (and overdramatic) sigh, Cadance let it drop. "Fiiiiiine." Her disappointment was quickly replaced with an impish smile. "So you want my help?"
That grin made Sunset hesitate - for a moment. "Yes. I know I'm not, uh..."
"Not the best with ponies sometimes," Cadance completed a bit too quickly. "Alright, so like I said: your number one thing to remember is that when you ask? You want to make it memorable, but you also want them to feel desired. They need to know from the start that you're interested in them. Not money or power or their body, them."
Sunset nodded slowly, pushing down the irony of Cadance's statement. "Right, I think I can do that. At least in general."
"Flowers," was Cadance's next command. "Flowers are non-negotiable, but don't do more than that. Some ponies try to lead with big shows of wealth and giving gifts like jewelry or perfume. You save that for once you're sure you've got a relationship, not when you're asking to start one. Bigger gifts are a great way to scare somepony off or make them feel uncomfortable from the pressure."
Again, a nod from Sunset. "Right, I don't want to make her feel uncomfortable."
It was a tiny scrap of information, but Cadance's eyes glittered. "Her, right."
Sunset winced. It was a potentially useful screw-up, but a legitimate mistake. She never liked making those. "Anyway. Flowers, no other gifts to start. Show that I care about her as a pony. Don't make a huge deal out of it, but make sure it's memorable." She paused, glancing to the alicorn across the table. "How do I make it 'memorable'?"
There, Cadance hesitated. "Well, that's tougher without knowing more about the situation. Location is a good start. Picking a place that's meaningful for both of you and brings up other good memories helps. Or someplace that's going to become somewhere meaningful after you ask."
"Uh huh, uh huh..." Sunset nodded with each syllable as she committed the advice to memory. "So where would you pick? If you were going to do that."
And Cadance deflected the question with ease. "That would depend a lot on who you're asking. I can't decide for you where is meaningful for you and your possible special somepony."
Sunset frowned but dropped the subject. Another push might tip things too far. "Yeah, makes sense. So, flowers, a good location, and then I just... ask?"
"Well, that's not everything-everything," Cadance hedged. "You could make a big deal about it when you ask her. Romances are full of big, showy ways to ask somepony out. But that's something you want to play by ear, and usually it's way too much. Every pony has different tolerances, like introverts versus extroverts." Before Sunset could ask about that Cadance pushed on. "The last thing you need is the date. You want to know what the first date is going to be before you ask. That might seem like a no-brainer, but it's also easy to put off and forget when you're preparing. So decide in advance where you're asking them to go, what to do, and when."
Slowly, Sunset nodded once more. "So schedule everything in advance."
Cadance quickly amended Sunset's mental note. "But make sure you can cancel or reschedule it. Just because you're asking is no guarantee they're going to say yes or that they aren't already doing something that day. Starting off expecting them to drop everything just for you isn't a good first impression either." She paused for a moment. "Oh, and don't be coy. The worst case isn't them saying no. It's them saying yes and not understanding that it's a date-date, only to later be surprised and say they thought you asked them as a friend."
Sunset grimaced. That had almost exactly been her plan for Step 3: going out with Cadance several times on 'dates' that could be plausibly deniable as just being friends. Sunset quickly scratched that out in her mental planning and thanked her stars for the warning.
"I'll be sure." Sunset finally got around to forking up some of lunch again. "Thanks, Cadance. I was sure you'd have plenty of experience with dating and stuff."
Cadance got rather quiet, eyes suddenly very intent on her seltzer water.
"...Cadance?"
"I, ah." The alicorn hesitated again. "I don't actually have much hooves-on experience," she admitted. "Back home, I was the only pegasus in an earth pony village, so I wasn't really popular. Most of that advice was just... romance novels and instinct."
Sunset motioned at Cadance with her gratin-laden fork. "Instinct from the Princess of Love." The title tasted ashy on Sunset's tongue and was quickly covered with eggplant and cheese.
Cadance's cheeks flushed. "That title still makes me feel a little weird."
"Good thing I almost never use it," Sunset joked.
"I'm glad you don't. I like just being Cadance with you." The alicorn shot her companion a demure smile.
With only a mild amount of mockery, Sunset held up her hoof to swear. "Then I will never call you 'princess' again, unless I'm forced to by Princess Celestia."
In turn, Cadance held up her hoof. "And I swear that I'll do everything I can to help you get a date with the pony you're interested in."
Sunset just barely managed to not roll her eyes at the irony.
Princess Celestia, Cadance, and Sunset were having tea together in the east garden when the attackers struck. They had waited until Celestia's attention was elsewhere, midway through pouring out the tea - and on cue as she tilted the pot, three crossbow bolts came hurling at Cadance from different angles.
Sunset reacted first, reaching out with her magic to block the shots - but something acted before she could to halt the attempt. It wasn't a counterspell: those were too reliant on knowing what was to be countered. This was a direct force of opposing energy, clamping down on Sunset's horn and pushing her magic inwards. Not enough to hurt from the backlash, but it quenched her magic like a match in a lake.
Cadance's training kicked in a tenth of a second later: one of the bolts was swatted downwards, digging into the dirt. The other two were coming in too fast to stop and instead slammed against the last-second shield that Cadance projected. A loud G sharp rang out as they bounced away, ricocheting into the air. In the brief time it took them to hit the ground, Cadance had already ducked under the table for cover.
Princess Celestia didn't even flinch as she finished pouring the second perfect cup of gooseberry tea.
The entire event - from the snap of the bowstring to the thudding impact of the bolts into the dirt - took three seconds.
In second number four, Sunset recognized the feel of the magic that was pushing against hers. Princess Celestia's own was unmistakable, and that's when it all clicked. This wasn't an assassination attempt: it was a test. A quick glance to the source of the shots revealed further that the three crossbows - concealed by the garden's topiaries - were set up on wooden stands and unmanned. One of the bolts was laying against the ground, revealing that it was blunt-tipped and relatively harmless. Celestia had simultaneously triggered all three crossbows, completely suppressed Sunset's (not inconsiderable) magic, hidden both actions seamlessly in the act of her lit horn holding the teapot, and never so much as spilled a drop while she did so.
Five more seconds passed before Cadance stuck her head out from cover. It was at the same time Princess Celestia finished the third cup and set down the teapot gently enough to make no sound. She smiled pleasantly at her adoptive niece. "You can come out now, Cadance. I was just testing your reflexes."
The confused look on Cadance's face was a familiar one to Sunset. To help, she plucked up one of the crossbow bolts. "The Princess was trying to surprise you and see how well you'd learned to defend yourself." She showed the offending projectile to Cadance, demonstrating that it - like so many of Celestia's other tests - had no point.
Rather than vent her frustrations at Celestia as expected, Cadance laughed. With relief, but she was still laughing. Sunset stared at her, incredulous that Cadance would brush off a fake assassination attempt. And yet Cadance did exactly that. "Oh wow! You tricked me good, Auntie!" She wiped away a tear from the corner of her eye. "That was a good one. I was so sure it was real."
Celestia smiled that frustrating, smug smile of hers. "That was the point, Cadance. It wouldn't have been a good test if you knew it was fake."
The two shared another laugh - and beside them, Sunset's temper burned hotter and hotter. She could feel her cheeks reddening and her muscles twitching as anger bubbled up through her. Another one of Celestia's tests. Another lie to make ponies dance to her commands. And Cadance was taking it as a joke! Teeth clenched tightly, Sunset's magic reached out. Not to her cup, but grabbing the teapot itself. Heavy and still full of hot tea, it was a perfect projectile to slam into Celestia's face. It wouldn't do any real harm to an alicorn, but Sunset's rage-filled mind's eye only saw the satisfaction of lashing out.
Celestia took hold of the pot as well. "Sunset, if you wanted more tea, you only had to ask." Golden magic again quenched cyan effortlessly, taking control of the crockery.
Sunset face contorted in anger.
And Celestia frowned, finally catching her student's frustration.
She set the pot aside and rose. "Sunset, please come with me."
Sunset snarled. "You--"
"Please." Celestia's tone made clear it was not a request.
Pursing her lips tight to keep from shooting her mouth off, Sunset sullenly left her chair to follow Celestia.
Cadance stood as well - only to be waved off by Celestia's wing. "I would like to speak to my student alone, Cadance."
The pink alicorn looked between the two and - finding no countermand in Celestia's even expression nor Sunset's sour one - nodded with a mixture of concern and resignation.
So the two left her at the table with the scones and cooling gooseberry tea.
They walked for several minutes, meandering through the gardens. Autumn was coming into full bloom: all around them the leaves had mostly finished turning, a bright riot of oranges and yellows. As yet the air was only a little chilly and easily fended off by a pony's coat (or a now distant cup of warm tea), but it would only be a week or two before the first touches of overnight frost.
Celestia picked up her pace slightly after they passed the entrance to the hedge maze, briskly moving through the statue garden and out the other side. There - by a placid pond surrounded by artistically placed willows - she came to a halt with Sunset beside her. Both looked out across the water towards a gazebo that sat on the pond's far side, surrounded by low peony bushes.
Silence - for a few seconds.
Then Celestia broke it. "Are you calmer, now?"
The question itself was enough to re-ignite Sunset's anger. Briefly. She let out a frustrated snort-sigh. "Yes." It was a lie.
Celestia knew it was. "You aren't wrong to be angry, Sunset. You may be my student, but Cadance is your student and I interfered with your work. I am sorry for that."
A barely restrained part of Sunset wanted to laugh in Celestia's face. An apology for breaking protocol, not for pretending to murder a pony. So typically self-righteous Celestia. Sunset didn't respond.
On the other hoof, Celestia barely stopped. "I suppose I was just being paranoid. Keeping Cadance safe is... it's important to me. From the moment I discovered her, I haven't been able to stop thinking about how vulnerable she is. She had no knowledge of magic, nor was she in any way prepared to handle Canterlot's cutthroat politics. Filling those gaps in her skills has worried me for months. I don't want to see her harmed."
"So you didn't trust me to do it right and decided to scare the daylights out of her to check my work." Sunset's mouth moved faster than her brain - but at the same time, the words weren't particularly far from what she was thinking.
"Didn't trust--" The alicorn stiffened with her shocked response - then sighed heavily as she stared into the middle distance. "I gave you the task of educating Cadance because I trust you where I trust no other. And because I know you are more capable than any other to accomplish it. Teaching Cadance from zero to defending herself with her magic in such a short period of time was a nearly impossible task. I am proud of you, Sunset Shimmer. You have proven yourself yet again and I couldn't be happier for it."
Sunset wanted to sneer and throw it back in Celestia's face. It was a lie, just like all the other lies. The jealous nag knew how much of a threat Sunset was - any talk of trust was just a sad attempt to make Sunset drop her guard.
Yet.
Ever since foalhood, Sunset had been desperate to hear those five words: 'I am proud of you'. For almost her entire life, they had been the gold medal at the end of the race. And as hearing them was vanishingly rare, each time was precious and filled Sunset's heart with joy. In a rush of serotonin, Sunset smiled in spite of her anger.
"Yet another challenge completed." Celestia smiled a little, herself. "I find myself wondering what your next shall be, now that you're finished with Princess Cadance's education."
And Sunset's smile vanished. "What?"
Celestia finally looked to Sunset, though the movement was more with her eyes than with her head. "I had assumed you would want to move on to your own projects again, now that you're done teaching Cadance what I asked you to."
Panic swelled in Sunset's heart. She was so close, and now Celestia was trying to push her away! Obviously she knew that Sunset was preparing to make a move on Cadance. That couldn't happen. "I'm not done," Sunset quickly retorted - perhaps too quickly.
Her response was Celestia raising a questioning eyebrow.
"I'm not done," Sunset repeated, her façade of control going back up again. "Cadance is still way behind where she should be, and she can't even do most of the basics of magic like a proper unicorn. I can't stop now, she's finally making some actual progress!"
Now, Celestia finally turned her head properly towards her student. "Are you saying that you wish to continue to work with Princess Cadance? As her teacher?"
It felt like a trap. Sunset was sure it was a trap. But she couldn't see how, and hesitation would kill the opportunity. Too much was at stake. So she nodded. "I demand to continue," she firmly stated.
That earned another curious eyebrow-lift from Celestia. "I see." She paused thoughtfully. "And if I refuse your demand?"
And there it was. Sunset smiled grimly as the play was revealed: it was a test of obedience. The Princess testing her student to ensure Sunset would obey commands and march as she was told. Lifting her chin and glaring into Celestia's eyes, Sunset declared her defiance. "Then I would do it anyway."
Celestia considered. Then, nodded. "In that case, I give you my blessing to continue."
It grated on Sunset: Celestia had challenged her, Sunset had fought back, and now Celestia turned it so she could claim Sunset's actions for her own. But it was hardly the first time it had happened, and Sunset had her eyes on the prize: Cadance. (The true prize was the information Cadance had, Sunset reminded herself.) So Sunset smiled through gritted teeth and bore the insult.
But she couldn't entirely restrain herself from taking a potshot. "Any orders about what to teach her next, Princess?"
Celestia's ego deftly deflected the sarcasm, and she legitimately pondered the question. "While I would like to see her learn more robust shielding spells, what she has now is currently sufficient and you're right that she needs more experience before she can handle advanced spellwork." She paused. "What do you want to teach her, Sunset?"
A fair question - but one Sunset had prepared for. Laying out plans for what to teach Cadance (and what to avoid teaching her) was something she had thought out well in advance - even if Princess Celestia's demands had derailed it. "Well, I have to fill in the rest of her basics first," she noted. "Light spells to start, probably. Then after simple things, I think I'll test her capabilities with illusions - since she seems to have an affinity with music, I want to have her try auditory alterations." A phantom of a smirk crossed Sunset's lips, knowing she had done similarly. "Vocal projection and volume control for public speaking sounds like something she would get use out of."
Nodding distractedly as she thought, Celestia looked back over the pond. "That makes sense. The Royal Canterlot Voice takes some effort to master. And then what?"
"Visual illusions, obviously," Sunset continued. "After that, probably some experimentation with basic enchantment. Things like making her own alarm clock or a reading lamp. Being able to bind spellwork to a focus should open up new opportunities. Plus of course, practice throughout to increase her levitation strength and dexterity."
Another nod. "And what about her cutie mark magic?"
A basely disguised wince - it was one of the subjects Sunset was purposely trying to avoid. "Uh. It didn't seem that important?" She scrambled to find a reasonable excuse rather than not wanting Cadance to access a magic Sunset couldn't control. "I wanted to focus on practical magic, not..." She waved her hoof vaguely in the air. "Whatever 'heart made out of crystal' means."
Celestia slowly shook her head. "You should not be so dismissive of it, Sunset Shimmer. Just because it isn't the kind of magic you have studied so hard on does not make it lesser." She stretched her hoof out, touching the tip against the pond's still surface. The slightest of impacts - and it sent a ripple outwards through the water. "A cutie mark is the core of a pony's being and of the magic inside them. The effect of it ripples--"
"Like the water does at the impact of a pebble," Sunset interrupted with a roll of her eyes as her voice flattened to a bored drone. "Yes, Princess Celestia, we've had this talk before. I understand the difference between learned and instinctive magic, and why both of them are important." She leaned forward, tapping her hoof against a different spot - then a second and a third, each sending ripples away from them. "By that logic no matter where I start, the education I give Cadance will help her with her instinctive magic. So I can teach her whatever I want and it will help all the rest."
Princess Celestia's frown gave Sunset just that little bit of joy. "Perhaps I should use a different metaphor as you are already so familiar with this one."
Sunset pressed the attack with more vigor at the Princess' faltering. "The metaphor isn't the problem, Princess Celestia. I understand what you're trying to say: I just disagree." She paused for half a breath - not giving Celestia enough time to counter but leaving enough time to let the alicorn start to think of one. Then she cut the Princess' thought process off. "Or do you not trust me to teach my student?"
It was the perfect knife - built from Celestia's own words. It dug deep, and Sunset could see the Princess' frown deepen at the knowledge she had been bested. "No." Celestia's response was slow and packed with frustration. "I trust you, Sunset Shimmer. I simply want to help provide some insight. After all, Princess Cadance may be your student but you are still mine."
Knowing it was time to retreat rather than risk further confrontation, Sunset bowed her head slightly. "Of course. Now if you'll excuse me, I really should go check up on her. She and I need to schedule our next session."
For a brief moment, Celestia hesitated - almost certainly considering refusing to let Sunset leave. But that thought passed, and she instead merely inclined her head to allow the exit.
Sunset left the Princess standing there beside the pond - alone in a garden of silent statues and dying autumn foliage.
Teaching Cadance how to cast a light spell was easy. The months of practice on other subjects had built her strength up enough that summoning the power was trivial and it was just a matter of having her form the power into a glowing mote at the tip of her horn. The rest of the first hour was teaching her how to modulate intensity and color, then a bit of additional time showing her how to turn it into a directional light.
Where things had become more complicated was when Sunset tried to teach her how to move the light away from her horn. That had been three hours. Cadance still didn't quite have the hang of it, but she had made progress. Moving the mote slowly within hoof's reach was easy - but faster or further away got trickier in a hurry. So far, her best attempt had reached across the tea table before winking out.
Of course, that had been before.
Cadance's eyes sparkled. "A game?"
"A game," Sunset repeated. "You seem to learn a bit better when it's in practice instead of theory, so let's make it a challenge." Her horn lit and the teal magic enveloped her, then Cadance. "I've just put a tracking charm on myself for you. I'll stay inside the Castle grounds, and you'll have a compass bearing on what direction I am at all times. All you have to do," she noted with a light prod of her hoof, "Is get close enough to cast your light spell and have it come into contact with me. That will make a chime sound, and then the challenge is over."
Cadance thought for a moment - then was struck with inspiration. "Oh! So Tag!"
There was a hesitation. Sunset sighed heavily. "Yes. Tag." Her tone made her opinion of the childish game clear. "If you want to call it that, fine."
Sunset's consternation got a giggle from Cadance. "I do. So what do I get if I win?"
Another hesitation. "I, uh. I didn't think of stakes," Sunset admitted.
Weakness. Cadance spotted it instantly, and her glee was unmistakable. "Well if I win, you have to tell me the name of this pony you've got a crush on."
Sunset's heart stopped. In retrospect, she should have expected it. She had dangled that bit of information in front of Cadance - grabbing at it was natural. But that bit of introspection was overwhelmed by gut-wrenching terror. If Cadance found out on her own, it would throw off all of Sunset's plans. Sunset wouldn't be in control anymore and that idea horrified her.
Missing her companion's fear, Cadance leaned forward slightly with a predatory grin. "And what do you want if you win?"
A single heartbeat kept Sunset alive. It was okay. It was going to be okay - she just had to win, that was all. No big deal, she just had to beat Cadance in a game of magic. She could do that, she was Sunset Shimmer.
And her mouth was desert dry. Licking her her lips and pulling her wits back together, Sunset tried to think of a return challenge. A little part of her wanted to challenge Cadance directly for the information about becoming an alicorn - but no. That was too fast. Cadance might see it as a danger and mention it to Celestia - who would absolutely see it as a danger. "If I win..." Sunset hesitated again, grabbing for ideas. "When I win," she corrected to buy more time, "You have to..." Sunset's mind scrambled. Something important but innocuous, while still being problematic enough to give Cadance pause.
Cadance reached over and nudged Sunset. She was smiling far too much, and far too smugly. "I have to what?"
Wildly, Sunset grabbed the first thing that came to mind. "You have to cook me your favorite childhood meal,"
Cadance blinked. Then laughed playfully. "Oh, is that all?"
"AND!" Sunset quickly tried to up the stakes in response. "You have to do it while wearing one of the maid's outfits."
That managed to take the wind out of Cadance's sails for a moment. But her good spirits only dampened for a moment before she nodded. "Alright. It's a bet, then." She held out her hoof.
With a sigh of relief, Sunset tapped hooves with the alicorn and shook on it.
"So," Cadance playfully asked, "How much of a head start do you need?"
And this time, Sunset grinned back. "None." And she disappeared with the flash of a teleport.
That was how Sunset had ended up in her current position: huddled under a table in the kitchens, hidden from sight behind an illusory sack of flour.
Not long after settling into her first hiding place, Sunset had realized she couldn't take the easy way out of this one. There were a dozen simple ways to cheat the game: she could dispel the tracking enchantment, she could turn invisible, she could teleport away any time Cadance got close. But there was a problem: unlike ninety-nine percent of ponies, Cadance's opinion of Sunset mattered. Cheating to win would ruin the rapport Sunset had spent so much time building up and set back her plans by months if not more.
By the same note, losing was unacceptable. Just as much as the idea of Sunset Shimmer losing was anathema, the stakes Cadance had set were too high.
So Sunset had to win, and she had to win honestly.
That had been more challenging than expected: Cadance had sussed out her first hiding place in the library fairly quickly, resulting in a chaotic run to get out. Sunset had only lost Cadance when a large stack of books fell, slowing the alicorn and allowing Sunset to get into the castle halls.
The second encounter had gone even worse. Sunset had prepared her escape that time, galloping into the hedge maze with the knowledge she knew the paths and Cadance likely didn't. Unfortunately, Cadance had been born a pegasus and didn't hesitate before taking to the air. That time, Sunset had gotten away by virtue of Cadance tiring herself out: her weaker spellcasting endurance had sapped her after dozens of castings of light spells in an attempt to tag the zig-zagging Sunset.
This explained how Sunset came to be hiding under the table. It was the perfect location: there were three doors out of the room and almost a dozen staff milling about and working. They were both cover and a blockade to entangle the chaser. Unlike Sunset, Cadance would hesitate before bowling ponies over as part of their game.
Plus the kitchen was in the middle of dinner prep by her favorite chef: Gastronomique, a griffon with a talent for food and a personality gentle as a hurricane. Sunset had long since pegged the griffon as one of the Palace staff she would retain when she became a princess, both because of Gastro's talent and because griffons were mercenary enough to not care who sat on the throne as long as they got paid. (And Sunset intended to pay her favorite quite well.)
Those thoughts would have to wait, though - Cadance was walking in. For a moment she was distracted by the flow of ponies and the heady scent of mango ginger soup, which was entirely fair. Sunset's stomach had been grumbling at the smell, eagerly anticipating dinner. But Cadance's hesitation was only for a few seconds before her eyes were darting around. She had obviously learned from the previous two encounters - quickly taking stock of the room's exits and likely hiding places.
Then Gastronomique peeled away from the stove. "Princess!" He always gave the 'p' a little extra pop when he spoke, for some reason. "If you're looking for a snack, turn yourself right around. Dinner's in less than an hour and I'll not have you ruin your appetite."
Cadance beamed, taking a page directly out of Princess Celestia's book. "Of course, chef!" There was a slight accent to her cheery words that wasn't normally there - Sunset guessed it was a trace of her heritage, being brought out for some extra charm. "I'm actually looking for Sunset Shimmer. We're playing a game, you see."
Sunset couldn't see the griffon's expression from her angle, but his tone turned sour enough to get the point across. "Any 'game' that filly wants to play isn't anything you should be involved in," he warned.
But Cadance was undeterred. "Actually, it's a bit of a wager. Could I have a bit of help from you and your staff? Just for a minute?"
There was a hesitation and then probably a nod Sunset couldn't see, because several of the kitchen staff set their work aside to pay attention.
Cadance kept smiling. "Thank you very much. If you could just move and block the doors so she can't run away from me again?"
And that was the reminder to Sunset that 'mercenary' was not always a positive trait. She could only grit her teeth as the staff dispersed at Gastronomique's directions and swiftly closed off all three doors. Scrambling away in the confusion was one thing, but Sunset had no illusions about trying to rush past several full grown earth ponies who were trying to stop her. A quick look around the room - she might have been able to get past the unicorn standing with Chef Gastro, but the door they were guarding was to a pantry that had no other exits.
With escape cut off, Cadance hummed to herself as she cantered around the room and let the tracking enchantment do its work. While it only gave bearings, Cadance was smart enough to know what it meant when she walked around a table and it kept pointing 'in'. Still, Sunset hoped. And held very, very still.
Right up until Cadance stuck her head under the table, a light spell glowing on the tip of her horn.
Sunset's illusory disguise vaporized in a puff of white smoke as she shot out from under the other side of the table. The suddenness of the action made Cadance hesitate - and Sunset didn't. Two steps brought Sunset from under the table entirely; a hop got her up onto a bench; another got her onto the counter. A cutting board covered in cheese was kicked aside in her rush, sending a shower of Gruyere behind her. Then Sunset hurled herself forward - straight at one of the kitchen's narrow windows.
Panicked shouts (including Cadance's) faded behind Sunset as she smashed through. Her magic ran hot as it formed a shield that both broke the glass and protected her from the flying shards. The shield was imperfect, though: she took no damage from the leap, but landed in the pile of broken glass on the other side. One chunk scraped up her right fetlock, stinging Sunset as payment for her little stunt.
But she was out. And she was free.
The cut did make running uncomfortable, though.
Sunset stampeded away from the kitchens at full speed, already locking on to her next planned hideout: the library's restricted section. Cadance would never expect Sunset to double back and hide in a place she had already hidden; and if she did, she would certainly never expect her to be in a hidden sub-basement archive that was locked and warded to only allow Princess Celestia to enter.
Well, Princess Celestia and Sunset Shimmer, who had cracked the wards a year and a half before. She hadn't dared go deeper inside (if Celestia caught her there, it would be unforgivable) but it remained one of Sunset's aces in the hole.
It was a place of desperation, but Sunset was getting pretty desperate.
So she ran. Every step of the way, she regretted both the painful cut and her lack of cardio. But she still ran, because the alternative (losing) was unthinkable.
Sunset looped wide around the Palace's perimeter - galloping past several locations that would normally have provided good spots to hide. Cadance would hopefully hesitate and waste time investigating the guard barracks or the wine cellar. After a quick juke around the complex used as temporary housing for visiting dignitaries, she bee-lined for the Palace's main structure. Sunset knew there was an entrance to the library on the ground floor not far inside: fourth door on the right, down the hall, hang a left and then she'd come out in the Contemporary Literature section.
Maybe another two minutes of running, and she would be home free.
Unfortunately, she was also pretty sure she could hear hooves running after her over the sound of her own rapid heartbeat.
A glance over her shoulder as they entered the Palace's main foyer - Cadance was there. She was on the ground, which was a small mercy, but she was also gaining. The longer legs of her more gangly form were translating to longer strides, closing the gap between them little by little.
So the library was out: if Cadance saw her go in, she would enter too. And then they'd both be caught by Celestia. Sunset would have to lose her pursuer in the labyrinth of the Palace. If she could get out of sight, Sunset considered if she could risk a few very short teleports to buy time and distance.
And while she was thinking about that rather than looking where she was going, Sunset plowed directly into the largest mobile object in all of Canterlot: Princess Celestia's butt.
While Sunset Shimmer was not fully grown, she still had enough mass that running into another pony would normally tangle them both up and send them to the ground. Princess Celestia, on the other hand, barely budged from the impact while Sunset ended up in a heap.
She was stunned from the impact, giving the Princess time to evaluate the situation that had come crashing into her. Her adopted niece was galloping full speed after her prize student, careening through the castle's foyer. Both were splattered with mud, dead leaves, and froth. More worrisome was that her student was bleeding.
Princess Celestia's reaction was immediate. "Sunset!" Warm golden magic that smelled faintly of spring pulled the unicorn off the now-filthy white marble floor. Another aura of gold wrapped around the nearest window dressing - and destroyed it. Expensive Somnambulan cotton shredded like cheese, threading out a strip of clean, white cloth.
Sunset squirmed in Celestia's grip. "Put me down!" Her mind was still focused on the chase, not fully registering what was going on. Her struggles got her nowhere - that warm gold energy clamped down harder to keep her still. And the Princess wrapped the shreds of the curtain around Sunset's foreleg as a makeshift bandage that immediately started to darken. Halfway through the process, Cadance caught up - she stopped a few steps away, chest heaving.
With the calm assurance of centuries and the knowledge of more savage times, Celestia focused on binding Sunset's wound and inspecting it before setting her student down. Both unicorn and younger alicorn looked to the Princess with a heady mixture of emotions: Cadance was full of embarrassment as she wasn't able to meet either's gaze; Sunset was still red-hot with anger from being indignantly picked up, as well as the heady rush of adrenaline-fueled action.
Princess Celestia let their emotions boil for half a minute before finally asking the question they all knew was coming. "Just what is going on here?" Behind her there was a murmur: the palace staff and the guards by now had been attracted to the commotion, with heads poking out of every door to see what was happening.
The extra attention made Cadance cringe harder.
Sunset, on the other hand, was undeterred by the eyes on her. She had considerable experience ignoring the palace's gossip mill, even if they would certainly spent weeks whispering about this. "Magic training," she stated, eyes locked to Celestia's in a furious challenge.
The Princess merely tilted her head curiously. "And she hurt you?" The tone was shockingly neutral.
It infuriated Sunset even more. "I hurt myself." She snorted angrily at the mere suggestion Cadance could cause harm.
"She jumped through a window," Cadance explained in a quiet, meek tone. But the strength slowly returned to her voice as she kept speaking. "Sunset wanted me to try projecting my light spells further away, so we were playing Tag and--"
Instantly, Celestia interrupted. "Sunset was playing Tag?" Her neutrality was gone, replaced by wide-eyed disbelief.
The murmurs of the staff grew louder.
"We were not playing," Sunset vehemently countered. "I was challenging her capabilities."
"By playing," Celestia countered with a growing smile. Before Sunset could interrupt her again, the Princess continued. "I would say that is enough for the day, my brilliant student. If you've been injured, that should take priority over any training. Further lessons can wait until after you have seen the physicians. Even a shallow cut could become infected and cause you irreparable harm." A dark shadow passed across her face. "I will not tolerate such a thing."
The admonishment was enough to cow Sunset - partially because she knew Celestia had a point. The wound was covered in mud and rotted leaves from the sprint, after all. So grudgingly, she followed as Celestia turned to walk them to the doctor.
And then there was the light, airy chime. And the uniquely unicorn feeling of somepony else ever so slightly disrupting the flow of magic through a pony's body as their magic aura came into physical contact. Sunset turned her head to see a small mote of baby blue light up against her flank.
Shocked aqua eyes turned to the pink alicorn who - horn lit - had a smug but playful smile on her lips.
Fury exploded inside Sunset. There were no words said and barely any thought - just raw, unadulterated anger. To Cadance's credit, the way her face fell made clear that she understood just how big of a mistake she had made. She took a hesitant step backwards as Sunset twisted around, eyes locked on Cadance's. "You cork-horned feather--"
A broad white wing jammed itself between them as Celestia interceded with the speed of a lightning bolt. "Cadance, what just happened?"
Caught with her hoof in the cookie jar, Cadance rapid-fire admitted to everything. "I tagged Sunset! She never said we were stopping, so I thought I could still do it!" She craned her neck, trying - unsuccessfully - to see around the wing. "Sunset, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to hurt your feelings!"
On the other side of the feathers, Sunset seethed all the harder at the idea of having her feelings hurt. It was insulting weakness, even if the concern did suit Cadance.
Celestia hiked her wing up a little higher to keep the two separated. "Cadance, that was very unkind of you. Sunset's injured and you took advantage of that just to win a foal's game. I'm disappointed."
Hanging her head, Cadance replied only with a sullen nod. "I'm sorry, Sunset."
Turning her head, the Princess looked to her student. "Sunset, Cadance was wrong and she apologized. What do you have to say to her?"
Anger still boiled in her - red-hot and ready to vent like lava from a volcano. Sunset hesitated only because of Celestia's presence, and that bought enough time for her sensible mind to overcome her temper. She needed Cadance. And, in truth, Sunset could understand pushing to win at any cost. Her breath slowing, she licked her lips to buy a few seconds more to regain control. "I accept your apology, Cadance." The words still tasted filthy. A thought struck her - abrupt but brilliant. "How about we compromise? We got interrupted, so we both win."
Slowly, Princess Celestia lowered her wing to let the two teens look at each other again. Cadance wasn't able to meet Sunset's eyes, but she did lift her head enough to signal her attention.
"You make the dinner," Sunset offered, "And I'll tell you the name." It wasn't to plan, but the deal meant it was in Sunset's control.
There was a hitch in Cadance's breathing - surprise. The alicorn bit her lip, untrusting of her own words, as she nodded an agreement.
Celestia breathed a sigh of relief and smiled. "That seems very generous."
And Sunset's anger turned to a self-satisfied smirk. "Alright then - it's a date."
Neither of the other two grasped the true meaning of her words at the time.
Cadance would cook her favorite dishes from her homeland, and Sunset would confess who she was interested in. That, in turn, would lead into Sunset proposing a date between them. She had that step planned out as well: the weekend after next was going to be the Homecoming Harvest Festival. While Canterlot obviously had nothing to harvest itself (and the event meant all the less to Sunset personally), there would still be hundreds if not thousands of ponies coming to the capitol to try and hawk their crops and goods at the cross between an auction house and a carnival. It would give them a low-intensity outing with a lot of distractions and options - as well as publicly showing that Sunset and Cadance were together. Undercutting Blueblood's claims and pushing him further away from Cadance (as well as to publicly embarrass him) was a priority for Sunset. She couldn't afford to give him any openings, and she had to make sure his defeat was undeniable.
But that would be later. Right now, the Festival was eleven days away and the dinner was in two. Cadance's words of the 'right' way to ask a pony out were echoing in Sunset's mind, and there was still one important task left too accomplish.
Sunset had to buy flowers.
Finding a good flower shop had actually been somewhat difficult: Sunset had lived in Canterlot for most of her life, but hadn't really left the Palace grounds aside from schoolwork. Heading into the commercial districts was never a thing for her, and if she had passed any flower shops on the occasions when she did? Her eyes had slid over them the same way they did the grubby homeless that Canterlot tried to pretend didn't exist.
The usual method of interrogating the staff had been out of the question as well. Rumors were circulating fast and thick about the encounter in the hallway, and Sunset being accused of childishly playing had undercut her reputation like a scythe. Going from that directly into asking for advice on flowers would ruin her forever. Fortunately, one of the sous-chefs had a guard who was sweet on her. It was easy to get a mare in love to gush about where her special somepony bought flowers from - and a lot of other things, which had eaten up a good hour of Sunset's valuable time.
So that brought her here: a side-street halfway down the mountain. The area had originally been a servant's district, where the nobility's lesser help could live out of the way of their betters. In the centuries since, it had blossomed into a bustling middle-class neighborhood that bucked Canterlot's trends with a population that wasn't majority unicorn and took pride in that fact. Pegasus and earth pony foals played with the unending vigor of youth, frolicking in piles of leaves that had fallen from trees that lined the cobblestone street.
Sunset's destination mostly blended in with the rest of the buildings around it - a solid two-story with a shop on the lower and the proprietor's living space above. The identical mixture of dark wood and faded brick facade seemed to flow from one neighboring building to the next, having all been sourced from the same places and built at the same time so many generations ago. The only thing that set the shop apart from those around it was a peaked glass roof that was visible behind it - a greenhouse of some sort that likely took up all of the space behind the building instead of the normal small fenced yard.
The inside stood out more, if for no other reason than the smell. Opening the door triggered two things: the jingle of a wind chime positioned as a bell, and an almost overwhelming barrage of flowery scents. Sap and roses and magnolia and lilac and a hundred others bombarded Sunset's nose hard enough for her to momentarily recoil. But she recovered before anypony noticed and slipped the rest of the way into the unseasonably warm shop.
For a few moments, she paused to examine some of the pots that sat on a side bench. Not what she needed today, but two weeks before Cadance had introduced Sunset to the idea of painting on things other than canvas. Their minor adventure of landscapes on glass panes had opened up Sunset's mind and now the clay pots - bearing their own colorful (if generic) acrylic colors - were attracting her attention as a new possible medium.
That review was interrupted by a timid voice from her left. "Uh. Excuse me, um..."
Sunset's ears flicked, twisting the speaker's direction.
There was a pause as the speaker cleared her throat. "Are you buying anything?" The tone wasn't clear if it had been a question or a challenge.
Deigning to look over, Sunset laid eyes on... well, it obviously couldn't be the owner. The filly confronting her was slightly younger than Sunset herself - how much was difficult to tell, given her rounded baby-face - and had the sales mannerisms of a hungry mouse. 'Green' covered most of the earth pony's traits: light green coat, a dark green mass of a mane that made it look like she was wearing a bush, and an inexperienced expression that betrayed a cross between fascination and terror. She was obviously fighting that inexperience so she could do her apparent job - but even that was ruined in short order, when her customer service glare was interrupted by the floppy yellow sunhat she wore falling down over her eyes.
Instinctively, Sunset had the urge to blow her off and say she was just looking. But the actual needs of the moment pushed her forward to deal with this nopony. "Yes, I wanted to order some flowers."
The filly's face brightened, confidence visibly surging through her. "I can help with that!"
Sunset rolled her eyes. "Yeah, that was why I was asking."
And there the confidence went, as quickly as it came. The sunhat flopped down as the earth pony instinctively drooped.
With a sigh, Sunset took a step closer. "Look, uh... what's your name?"
"Wallflower Blush," the green filly answered in a quiet mumble.
"Great, cool." Sunset stepped forward again. "Wallflower, I need to get this one right and I don't know anything about flowers. I'm betting you do, though."
A little bit of confidence crept back in, and Wallflower's head (and hat) rose slightly. "I'm okay at it. Dad's better. I usually just stay in the background and let him handle everything."
Sunset fought back her urge to grumble. "Is he here right now?"
"...no." The head went back down again.
"Then I'll take your help." Another step, and Sunset was close enough. She reached over and pushed the sunhat's brim away from Wallflower's eyes. "So get to it."
The physical contact knocked the earth filly out of her grumpy reluctance and into a moment of shock. Then her mind caught up and sent her scrambling. In a flash, she was behind the counter and pulling out paper to wrap a bouquet in. "Yes! Uh, right, right." She hesitated as she searched for the tools - pulling out a pair of shears first, then several spools of string and wire. But in spite of her obvious unease, there was a vibrant eagerness to her actions - that telltale sort when somepony was in their comfort zone. "What's the occasion?"
Very briefly, Sunset hesitated. She'd spent so long keeping her plans a secret that she almost responded to the question with defensive hostility. But she pushed that instinct down - caution was one thing, but concealing it now would only make the young florist's job harder and the work less effective. So Sunset took a steadying breath to get over herself and answered truthfully. "I'm asking somepony on a date." Glancing around, Sunset's eyes locked on her obvious choice of flower. "So what about a dozen roses?"
As soon as the words came, the filly's excitement disappeared and her face sank to a bland, grey mask. "Oh. Okay."
It was a dramatic enough change to make Sunset pause. "Something wrong with roses?"
"Nope! Nothing wrong with them." Wallflower's sickly-sweet customer service voice said otherwise, though. "If you want roses, you'll get roses. Any particular color or just standard red?"
Red rose petals were part of the filling Sunset and Cadance's favored lunchtime sandwich, but she knew that didn't mean they were the right choice for this. And there was an expert present, so why not use that? Sunset shrugged. "I guess? There's supposed to be a language of flowers - what do red roses say?"
"Low effort." The words sprang out of Wallflower's mouth faster than she could clap her hooves over it.
There was a tense moment of stunned silence before Sunset started snickering. "Really?"
That little bit of laughter pulled Wallflower's guard down again. She did it cautiously, face relaxing bit by little bit, until she managed a sardonic smile. "Everypony gets red roses. It's what every teenage colt brings to their first date and every corsage at a school dance. They're nice, but it's generic."
Sunset's eyes sparkled. This was what she wanted from an expert: knowledge she could get but would never bother to learn. "Alright then, flower filly, let's see what you can do. I need flowers to ask somepony on a date. We've known each other as friends for a while, but I want to take it to the next level. She's a romantic but I'm not, and she's worried about ponies caring more about what she can bring to the table instead of who she is."
It was a rapid-fire barrage of requirements, but Wallflower took them in stride. She was in motion as soon as Sunset started speaking, grabbing sample flowers with the confidence of a pony who had spent her whole life in that blossoming world. The laugh shared about the roses seemed to have taken off her filter and her reluctance, as well. "So how bad do you want to bang her?"
The abrupt frankness startled Sunset, completely derailing her thought process. "Excuse me?"
Wallflower held up two flowers: a white rose on the left, and a yellow jonquil in the right. "There's completely different messages for 'I find you beautiful' and 'I think you're hot'. There's a ton of nuance with flowers, so you gotta be clear on what tone you're sending."
A furious blush passed across Sunset's cheeks. "Look, I just want to tell her I'm interested in a date instead of just being friends. I'm pretty sure hopping past that will just make things weird." And likely scare off the gun-shy Cadance.
"Huh." Wallflower scratched her chin with the thorny rose-stem. "I figured you were bolder than that." And before Sunset could object, the florist shrugged and closed that part of the conversation. "Well, you're the boss! Now let me see..."
Sunset struggled to recover, now completely off-balance by the filly's switch from timid and unsure to sardonic and blunt. She tried to justify it as the earth pony being in her element, but that only went so far. "Just don't overdo it, alright? I've spent a lot of time building up to this and I don't want flower choice to ruin it."
Wallflower didn't react at first - her head was deep in a bin, sorting. When she did raise her head back up, she had a sprig of small white flowers with yellow centers in her teeth (and some baby's breath stuck in her hat.) It was set on the counter between them, the concerns utterly ignored. "Acacia blossom, for concealed love. It tells her you've been thinking about this for a while but weren't sure how to say it."
A pause. Sunset rolled over her planned confession in her mind. Yes - yes, that fit. It was a good point to start from. "But I wasn't sure of it. I wouldn't call it love but I wasn't certain if I was interested or not."
Nodding, the earth pony turned to a nearby planter. "Forsythia," she definitively stated. A quick pull with her mouth, a turn, and she placed a yellow flower with four long, thin petals down. "Signifies anticipation." Then she twisted the other way and pulled out a small evergreen branch with tight blue-ish flower buds. "And arborvitae - unchanging friendship. You want to move forward but you're afraid the answer will ruin your friendship."
Sunset shifted uneasily. That was remarkably accurate. "Uh. Well, I'm not afraid-afraid." A little voice in the back of Sunset's head unhelpfully insisted she wasn't afraid of anything.
Wallflower didn't pay any attention to the objection. She was obviously in the zone and wasn't going to be held back by petty things like another pony's thoughts. "And then yellow iris." That one sent her trotting across the room with her hat flapping like pegasus wings. And she was almost pegasus fast to grab a stem from the far side and bringing it back. Sunset just watched, waiting for the reasoning behind this one. "Iris traditionally means hopefulness," Wallflower answered as she returned. "But yellow instead of blue also indicates passion."
Reflexively recalling the comment a few minutes before, Sunset tried to counter the suggestion. "I'm not trying to--"
And she was immediately cut off. "You want passion, fire-mane." Wallflower insisted a bit too strongly. "Or do you think she's going to like you more if you're boring?"
A quick spark flew, threatening to ignite Sunset's temper. "Hey! I am not boring! She would never think I was boring!"
"Then passion works." Wallflower put the yellow iris down with firm authority.
Only for Sunset to forcefully put her hoof on the bloom. "No. I am not doing that. I've put in way too much work for this to fail because I pushed too hard." Her teeth clenched, only just holding herself in check. "Not over one stupid flower."
Wallflower recoiled from the heat of Sunset's anger. That professional confidence disappeared and was replaced by shock - and then by sullen compliance. The yellow iris - now partially crushed - was taken off the counter. "Alright, alright." Then her voice dropped to a near-hiss. "You don't have to be such a big meanie."
Sunset closed her eyes and took a single, long breath. She needed the florist right now. Getting angry at her would only hurt things. "So concealed love, anticipation, unchanging friendship." She opened her eyes and looked at the counter. "Lots of white, yellow, and green. Maybe something, uh. Blue-ish?"
The complete lack of enthusiasm on Wallflower's face spoke more than her words could - as did the way she practically slapped another flower down on the counter. This one was pink: broad, deep pink petals, with the interior speckled by darker spots. "Azalea," she pronounced. "Signifies fragile passion and temperance. Because you're so afraid of breaking everything."
A part of Sunset wanted to object and yell again about her lack of fear - but the florist wasn't wrong. It was a good fit. So Sunset nodded.
Wallflower bunched the four flowers together, laying them side by side. "Done. When do you need it?"
"Thursday." That answer was easy. "For dinner."
A sharp, impersonal nod in response. "You can pick it up at three," she spat.
They were silent for a moment - Wallflower obviously waiting for Sunset to leave, while Sunset herself hesitated. The flowers were important and having them put together by an angry florist could backfire. Now was not the time for taking chances.
So Sunset swallowed her pride - at least a little. "Actually since we're done with that, I'm wondering if you could help me with another order?"
An unamused eyebrow raise was her response.
"There's this colt who won't get the hint," Sunset continued. "I'm hoping that since you know this flower language you can help me put together something for him." She paused, hoping that she'd read the earth pony's personality right. "What goes into a bouquet that says 'you're a moron and I hope you eat glass'?"
The first half of the day had dragged on frustratingly: while Sunset was Princess Celestia's personal student and that provided considerable freedom, she did still occasionally have to do school work. So five hours (plus half an hour for lunch) had been taken up by writing a thesis proposal on deconstructing the Unicornia-era spells for the movement of stellar bodies and repurposing them to handle geologic shaping and excavation. (Sunset considered the topic dull, but admitted that being able to use teams of unicorns to move literal mountains had practical applications.)
She was sure the work was solid, but Sunset knew her heart wasn't in it. That evening wouldn't get out of her mind, and there was no real thinking about anything else. When she caught herself doodling designs for her crown in the margins of her work, Sunset realized she was at the limit of her attention span.
Fortunately, there were last minute preparations to distract herself with until the time came.
Ensuring privacy was the first thing: Sunset had slipped one of the guards a couple of bits to make sure they weren't disturbed by anypony less than Princess Celestia. Sure, throwing cash at the problem felt clumsy - but it was reliable. It had been his job to watch the hall outside Cadance's rooms anyway, so a little extra went a long way.
Second was picking up the flowers. They were ready, and it gave Sunset the opportunity to check in with her other order.
"One Noble's Special," Wallflower related with vindictive cheer. Her father was tending to the counter on the other side of the store, seeming to take pride in his daughter handling her first customer successfully. "They order this sort of thing all the time to take shots at each other. But I made yours extra special."
With her hoof, she pointed out each of the individual elements. "Geraniums," she said, pointing to the small pink blossoms on the outside ring, "For stupidity." From there she went inwards. "Then foxglove for insincerity; yellow carnations for disappointment and rejection; orange lilies for hatred; and finally?" She pointed to the central cone of tiny white flowers. "Meadowsweet, signifying uselessness."
Sunset took the whole thing in for a moment. "And it's a big--"
"It's shaped like a penis," Wallflower gleefully confirmed.
Which made both fillies giggle like the teenagers they were.
"It's perfect." Sunset knew it was just the right extra jab for Blueblood. Victory was always sweeter when you rubbed it in.
And last on the list was to pick the right outfit. For a normal dinner, Sunset would have just gone as-is. But this wasn't normal, and she needed to get it right. That, of course, had run into the problem that Sunset didn't own a whole lot that would be suitable - most of her closet was either winter gear or intended for fancy galas. An outfit that looked good but was theoretically still casual was harder than it should have been.
In the end, she settled on a cobbled-together combo that mostly worked. A plain black cotton top from an old Nightmare Night costume, a mid-length orange-yellow skirt she had picked up on a whim the year before, and a hairpin of her cutie mark that Princess Celestia had gifted her for her birthday four years ago. It worked well enough and fell into the desired envelope of nice-but-not-fancy.
With all that prepared, Sunset stood outside the door of Cadance's rooms five minutes early. She had debated if early, on time, or late was better - but in truth that she knew that the waiting was driving her mad. It would have to be early.
So.
Five minutes. She was there. She was ready. All she had to do was get in, present the flowers, wait through dinner for the right moment... then explain the bouquet and ask Cadance. Simple. Just a matter of getting the timing perfect and keeping calm. Well, calm and from eating her own hoof in nervous anticipation.
It wasn't like months of work and her greatest goal in life relied on this, after all.
Nowhere to go but forward.
Sunset knocked - three swift and slightly too hard raps of the hoof on the gilded oak door.
From the other side, there was a brief shuffle before Cadance's muffled voice called out. "Just a moment!"
Sunset waited two heartbeats before calling back to her. "Open it with your magic from where you are, not with your wing." Just another little push for practice - as well as a tiny show of power, marking Sunset as the master and Cadance as the student. One last advantage for the coming confrontation.
The handle glowed blue a moment later as Cadance did as commanded and let Sunset inside.
Cadance's quarters were new to Sunset. She had never visited them before, and prior to the alicorn's arrival in Canterlot they had been one of several generic (but of prime quality) suites reserved for high ranking foreign guests or diplomats. Since then, however, this one had been wildly redecorated with a teenage filly in mind.
Unlike Sunset's room, the windows here were unshaded and brimming with sunlight. The open curtains were a perfect example of the rest of the room's décor: light material, pastel hues, and a breezy vibe that looked ready to flounce through the castle on wings of song. From those pink silken curtains to the white lacquered dinette set to the rounded couch shaped to resemble a cloud, it was all painfully fluffy. Even the vase of yellow and orange flowers by her desk seemed to have an air of mirthful girlishness. And then the beautiful, artful décor was mauled to death by the reminders that Cadance was still a teenage filly. The poster hanging by the desk had been framed, but it was still for the most insipid pop band currently touring Equestria. The bookshelves held light novels with harlequin marks and flowery titles. And while Sunset couldn't see into Cadance's bedroom from the doorway, she was ninety-nine percent sure the ceiling had glow-in-the-dark star stickers on it.
As for Cadance herself, she had opted against wearing anything fancy - but she had cheekily put on a frilly lace headband similar to what the maids wore as a nod to their original bet. That, and a look of surprise at Sunset having dressed up.
That surprise grew when Sunset levitated over the carefully curated bouquet of flowers. "Hey, Cadance." She tried to sound casual - but relaxed? No. Too much tension in her voice. She knew it, as Sunset could feel her whole body go tight as she began her gambit and there was no hope of going back. "Thought I'd bring a little something along. It felt wrong to show up empty-hoofed."
The look in Cadance's eyes was oh so familiar to Sunset - the rapid back and forth that darted across the bouquet the same way Sunset's own did across complex spell structures. No doubt Cadance was reading the flowers' language, mind clicking over the available data and piecing it all together.
Sunset immediately decided the flowers had been a mistake. She was communicating her intentions too early, flagging Cadance with information before everything was set up. This was skipping past waiting for the right time and shoving her intentions into the pink alicorn's muzzle seconds after walking through the door. It was a total misstep and the first moments of a disaster. She had screwed up. It was coming on too strong too soon, and Cadance was sure to be angry.
And just as Sunset was about to start her verbal retreat, Cadance stopped her with a smile. Just... a smile. Not a knowing one, or a smug one, or even an amused one. Just a simple, ordinary smile one would give to a friend. "I'll get a vase," is all she said.
It left Sunset stunned for several seconds. She had messed up and left an opening, only for it to not be taken. It should have upset Cadance - she instinctively knew that - but Cadance just... let it go. And Sunset wasn't sure how to handle that.
Until a fine crystal vase was set in the middle of the dinette table and Cadance waited expectantly beside it. Then Sunset finally got a clue and transferred the flowers to their new home. (The rest of her confusion faded far more slowly.)
Cheerfully, Cadance gave them a little fluffing - re-arranging them within the vase to get everything back in the same order they had originally arrived in. Then she pulled out one of the chairs for her dinner companion.
Sunset was so off-balance, she didn't even scold the alicorn for using her wing instead of her magic.
It was plenty of an opportunity for Cadance to launch into her presentation. "So, I want to assure you that I did make all of this. And without any help!" Her voice wobbled on the edge between playful and defensive. "Chef Gastronomique was kind enough to let me use his kitchen and sourced a few ingredients that weren't in the pantry stock, but other than that this was all me." Her wing swept out to take the lid off of a simple bowl of white crockery she had on a serving tray off to the side. "To start, a quick salad. Baccelli e Pecorino." The dish was dispensed with surprising quickness: fava beans, chunks of pecorino cheese, and sliced radish in a drizzle of olive oil with just a touch of pepper.
With it in front of them, Cadance sat opposite Sunset and... waited. Expectation weighed heavily on her face, though it wasn't clear if she was waiting for Sunset's opinion on the salad or context for the flowers.
And for the life of her, Sunset wasn't certain which one she wanted to lead with.
Still, as Sunset took the first bite of her salad? Cadance watched with anticipation. And her face slowly fell with each of the three following bites that came only with silence.
It was after that fourth one that the alicorn finally broke the mute meal with a nervous question. "How is it?"
A direction. Sunset grabbed at the opening. "It's good." She paused to shift the vase and flowers to the side - while Cadance's swan-like alicorn neck and leggier body let her look over top, Sunset's more normal pony form meant they blocked her view. That out of the way (literally), Sunset tried to be a bit more verbose. "Really liking the radishes in this. They're good and crunchy."
Relief flooded over Cadance, and she giggled a little. "The funny part is that those are the one non-traditional part of this. All the rest is from my adopted mother's recipe, but I added those. I just thought the radishes gave it a little extra color and texture, you know?"
Another pause as Sunset ate a fifth bite. This time, she considered it a bit more carefully - and nodded in agreement. "Yeah, you made a good choice." And Sunset knew she had made one too when Cadance smiled broadly.
The alicorn started to eat as well, the first hard hurdle passed. "I'm glad," she said between bites. "I always get nervous when I make changes, even if I feel they're the right one."
"Horn, not wing," Sunset distractedly scolded.
Cadance flushed with embarrassment, awkwardly changing her fork from a wing-grip to her magic. "Do you ever have moments like that? When you're cooking something, I mean," she quickly appended.
Shaking her head, Sunset didn't respond with words at first. But when she caught Cadance's look of curiosity, she felt she had to. "I've never really cooked. The castle's staff does a good enough job, so why should I get my hooves dirty?"
"Not even before you came here?" Cadance's response was quick and surprised - and almost immediately followed by a grimace. "Wait! I'm sorry, I forgot. You don't like talking about things before you were Princess Celestia's student."
The apology cut off Sunset's reflexive anger, turning it to a sigh of heavy resignation. "It's okay. Unlike everypony else in this city, you didn't mean any harm." She distractedly nudged a bean with her fork, the tines scraping on the plate a little. "And I'm okay with most of the past, but it's hard to separate all of it out from my parents." Admitting even that was hard - but Sunset knew she couldn't entirely avoid it. Not forever.
Cadance didn't push, though. She just gave a little nod of acceptance. "If you ever decide to talk about it, I'm here and I'll listen."
Sunset nodded back - and that was that.
The salad only lasted a few more minutes - it was just a starter, after all. When the two plates were cleaned, Cadance shuffled them aside and started laying out a new set of cutlery. "I had considered a soup course," she noted as a fresh fork, a thin knife, and a teaspoon were distributed to them both. "But I decided against it. I didn't want you to be too full, and soup for two just doesn't feel right." She bit her lip for a moment, trying to find the phrasing. "It's always been best with a full family or at a party, where there's a lot of ponies to share. At least, that's how I feel."
She waited expectantly - but to her relief-slash-disappointment, Sunset merely nodded. "Yeah, I can see that. I guess I take it a little for granted that the Palace serves so many ponies at once that how many you're cooking for is never really a thought."
"So instead, I put together one of my favorites for a cold autumn day." Cadance levitated a platter over to the table and removed the silver cloche with dramatic flair. Instantly a wave of scents bombarded Sunset: sweet stewed tomato; pungent garlic; a hint of wine; and a slight fishy smell that Sunset couldn't figure out why it was there. The dish was a pasta of some sort, with thin, curling beige noodles over braised spinach in a sauce that looked to be olive oil-based. "Calamari in zimino," Cadance pronounced.
It took a moment for Sunset to translate in her head - and another to realize that the noodles were squid tentacles. The shift had Sunset off-guard long enough for Cadance to fall into an abrupt panic. "Oh no, you're not allergic, are you? I didn't think about asking--"
She was silenced by Sunset holding up a hoof. "No, no. I just-- I thought it was pasta. I've only ever had squid that was in little rings and these are more like noodles."
Instantly, Cadance brightened. "They usually aren't noodle-y! My mother taught me a way to cut them so they end up like that." She paused. "My adopted mother," she corrected herself.
Changing the subject before that could get explored, Sunset focused back on the dish. "I guess I shouldn't have been surprised. Traditional pegasus cuisine uses a lot of seafood."
Taking the two bone-white china bowls off the tray, Cadance served the main course to both of them. "Actually, Florentina is almost exclusively an earth pony village. I was the only pegasus, and the only unicorn was the witch Prisma."
"Wait, so you were raised by mud--" Sunset's jaw clicked shut before she could finish the slur, but Cadance's icy frown made clear it had been noticed. "You were raised by earth ponies?" It was a late correction, but seemed to placate the alicorn.
In fact, she laughed in amusement at the question. "You didn't see my parents at the coronation?"
And in truth, Sunset hadn't. She had heard the names - Carino Botte and Pervinca - but hadn't bothered to actually look their way. Her mind had been otherwise occupied at the time: seething in rage at somepony else's coronation had taken up a lot of attention, after all. (Perhaps more than she had realized.) This did explain why Cadance's education was so lacking - at least in Sunset's mind.
Of course while Sunset was thinking on that, Cadance grabbed a framed picture of her family from the nearby dresser. She was in the middle - hornless and markless - with her adoptive father on the left side (dark brown coat, merlot red mane, cutie mark of a wine cask, Sunset quickly analyzed) and her mother (periwinkle blue coat, darker blue mane with a sea green stripe, cutie mark of a flower) on the right. "See? This is us." She sighed wistfully. "Two years ago, in early spring. Mom realized that we hadn't gotten a family picture since I was a foal, so when a photographer came by for the springtime festival we had a new one taken. We almost didn't go to the festival because the rain had been so heavy that week. But we did, and the photographer had to pan up a little too high because our hooves were absolutely soaked in mud."
Cadance laughed at the memory, and Sunset smiled. She couldn't help but do so - there was something infectious about Cadance's cheer.
"Cute," was as far as Sunset commented - eager to push past her earlier errors.
With that, Cadance finished the serving by popping the cork on a wine bottle - a straw-yellow Etna Bianco - and poured a little out to each of their glasses.
The first bite was unexpected: Sunset had eaten squid before, but this was a far different taste from the stir-fried ones she had tried. Chewy but not rubbery, it had soaked up the flavor of the sauce like a finely-rendered sponge. Garlic, tomato, olive oil, and sautéed spinach mixed to a smooth, herby taste that didn't fade as she chewed.
This time, Cadance didn't wait for an opinion - she dug in with eagerness. It wasn't until three forkloads later that she gave Sunset a questioning look.
"Unique," was the unicorn's appraisal. "I don't think I've ever had something like this before." She stabbed her fork through another 'noodle'. "It's good, though. It's your mom's? I'll have to tell her that when she comes to Canterlot next time."
Something in that statement soured Cadance - she looked down to her plate and gave no response.
Sunset didn't press, and they faded into a quiet meal for long minutes. Even when they did slowly speak again, it was words about nothing: questions that were innocuous and superficial as both danced around the things that each really wanted to say.
Cadence asked about Sunset's sycophants, presuming the group of mares that hung around her at school were friends. Sunset couldn't even remember their names - and she knew they were just opportunists, staying in her orbit with the hope of being pulled up the social ladder by association. No pony worth caring about.
Sunset asked back about Cadance's lessons with Princess Celestia, only to find there was nothing there but empty words and things Sunset had already learned. Etiquette and history and politics - things Sunset had mastered long before. No secret Princess things.
And like that, they went back and forth for half an hour, speaking few words that meant anything and asking questions with dispassionate answers.
When their plates were cleaned, the momentary silence returned.
Cadance tried to cover it with a smile as she moved their plates away. "So, um, Sunset. I hope you saved room for dessert?" It was cheesy - but also very Cadance.
"I think I might need a minute to digest, but I wouldn't say no." Sunset's own smile back was wain and weak - mostly because she knew time was running down. Tipping her hoof early or not, she still had to ask Cadance on that critical date. They had danced around each other for a while now and no moment had seemed right yet. Too much of the meal had been spent avoiding the things they really wanted to talk about, after all.
But where Sunset hesitated, Cadance pushed. While she had her back turned preparing the dessert to be served, she talked over her shoulder. "By the way. Was there something on your mind tonight? You've seemed distracted - like you were avoiding something."
Sunset's internal monologue turned into a string of expletives as she lost control over the situation again. "No. Nothing, really." It was a terrible lie - even she had to admit that. But doing things on her terms was a reflexive action, even if it was detrimental.
At first, Cadance didn't respond. Not with words, at least. Her reply was in the form of cake: a thin, unleavened brown square, covered in nuts, dried fruit, and orange flower petals. "Castagnaccio," Cadance pronounced as she floated over Sunset's piece. "Chestnut flour cake with raisins, walnuts, pine nuts, and," she said with a smug smile, "Nasturtium flowers."
A glance - and Sunset could see the petals were fresh. They had been pulled off moments before from a second vase that was on the deskside table: one full of now deadheaded nasturtiums and still-blooming yellow carnations. A memory from earlier in the day connected in her head, where Wallflower had outlined what the carnations in the other bouquet meant.
Cadance waited patiently, a slightly smug smirk on her lips.
The yellow flowers were disappointment or rejection. So by logic, the other pair were... Sunset squinted at them, then at the pink alicorn.
"Nasturtiums," Cadance happily related, "Traditionally symbolize victory. So the answer is yes."
An awkward pause.
Cadance motioned to the vase on the dinette table with her head. "You were trying to ask me something with the flowers, right?"
All the pushes and delays to have control, and it had been snatched away. Sunset stumbled her words, mind racing to try and find some way to grab it back. Failing, of course, but still trying. They came out as a string of disjointed syllables - but that was enough of an answer. Because Cadance smiled wider.
"Acacia for concealed love. Forsythia for anticipation. Arborvitae for unchanging friendship. Azalea for fragility." Cadance recited the coded message with smug confidence. "I was wondering when you were going to ask."
Again, Sunset's eyes went to the other flowers that had already been in the room. "So you knew?"
A slight shake of her head. "I was anticipating," Cadance answered gently. "It was pretty obvious you had something on your mind, and it's unusual for something to be bugging you and not get resolved pretty quickly. You're a pony of action like that," she noted with a wink. "After that, it was just a matter of noticing how angry you got when Blueblood tried to date me and that you were asking questions about how to ask a pony out. There's fishing and then there's trawling."
Sunset's ears flattened against her head as she blushed. She did not like being outplayed, even if it made her job easier. "So you knew." Her eyes yet again looked at the second vase. "And you prepared to say yes or no. If you knew ahead of time what I was going to ask, why didn't you already know your answer?"
"Because I needed to see how you would do it." Cadance pulled her chair around the table so she could sit beside Sunset. "Not just that you listened to me on the right way to ask a filly out, but how you acted. You're a tough mare, Sunset Shimmer, and it tells me a lot not just that you tried to do this the right way but that you were nervous about it." She touched a hoof to Sunset's chest. "It showed me that you care and that's more important than anything else."
A hesitation - then Sunset set her hoof against Cadance's fetlock. "This is important to me." And she knew she meant it.
Cadance's pleasant smile said she knew, too. "So. A date?"
"A date." Sunset felt her blush warm more at that. "The Homecoming Harvest Festival is next weekend. I want to take you to that. Not as part of some royal function - just us."
The plan got a firm nod of agreement from Cadance. "It sounds like fun with one of my favorite ponies in the world." She pulled her hoof back - and used the same one to pick up her plate. "Cake to celebrate?"
Sunset's fork lifted in her teal magic. "Absolutely."
When Princess Celestia asked to see Sunset Shimmer in the west solarium, Sunset had taken it as a compliment.
The west solarium was far different than the east: while the east was a stunning edifice of glass and gold that was perfectly aligned to see Celestia's sunrise and capture those first rays within, the west was a firmer, darker construction with the sunset in mind. Rather than floor to ceiling windows and golden surfaces polished to a mirror sheen, the west solarium's windowed ceiling and walls ended knee-height above the floor in thick gray marble. A pony sitting inside wouldn't actually be able to see the sun pass below the horizon as the glass ended and stone begin approximately thirty seconds of height before the sun's lowest point touched the land.
The furniture, as well, was quite different. The east was filled with treasured heirlooms, artwork, and priceless gifts from nobles and rulers long dead. The west? It was utilitarian: stout wooden furniture, walls cushioned by tapestries, thick rugs, and books on dark shelves. East was open and airy; west was stoic and dour. Their scents were even different, as the east perpetually smelled of fruit and springtime flowers, while the west bore the deep-seated scents of coffee and lavender that had sunk into the upholstery.
But what most ponies didn't pay attention to was the room's history. Princess Celestia often received dignitaries in the east solarium, greeting them as she raised the sun and chatting with them over breakfast. The west solarium had a different set of visitors. It was that room which bore the dubious distinction as home to ninety percent of the in-palace assassination attempts on the Princess - some speculated that attackers loved the room's muffled acoustics and accessible hiding spots, but Sunset had her own ideas. It was also where Celestia preferred to meet with foreign emissaries from unfriendly powers, and where the rebellious among the nobility came. East was always a friendly conversation; west was for dangers. It was a place of power for Princess Celestia, and where she confronted those she considered threats.
Sunset Shimmer liked being a threat. It meant she was on the right track.
She held her head high as she entered - chin up, neck straight, eyes set dead ahead. Princess Celestia was waiting for her, not yet seated as she checked the time on a contraption that was half clock, half astrolabe. Setting the sun would happen soon, and the Princess was likely calculating just how long she could spend on this confrontation before doing her duty.
There was no doubting the subject of their talk: it had never been a question of if Celestia would find out about the impending date, merely when. It was a victory that she hadn't figured out Sunset's plan until after Cadance accepted and the outing was set. Now there was no interfering without tipping her gilded hoof, and Princess Celestia could never abide that - she ironically always moved in shadow and spoke in metaphor, preferring to nudge rather than push. Direct confrontation wasn't her way and that was exploitable.
So Sunset crossed the room with high confidence, taking a seat in a sturdy walnut chair opposite the larger bench that had been built for an alicorn. No words were said yet, letting Celestia (for once) take control of the conversation.
She did - after nearly a minute of thought. Moving away from the clock with the grace of an angel, Princess Celestia practically floated to the padded bench. Laying her self down was art, quite literally - some of Equestria's greatest painters and sculptors had used that motion as their inspiration. She settled into the deep velvet cushions, wings giving a perfunctory rustle as they adjusted to her new position. Then, with a falsely friendly tone, she finally spoke. "Princess Cadance tells me that you and she intend to go out for the Festival, and will do so as more than friends."
"We are," Sunset confirmed, keeping her own tone deathly neutral and even.
Princess Celestia smiled a fake smile. "I am very happy to hear that, my brilliant student. When you first met I was worried that you two wouldn't get along, and so I'm quite pleased that you're close enough to do something like this."
Sunset waited.
"But."
There it was.
"I did not expect it," Celestia continued. "And I do admit some concerns."
"Concerns." Sunset kept that same neutral tone.
The Princess nodded. "Yes." She sighed, eyes closing. "Sunset, I know you are familiar with many of the aspects of Palace life, but there remain some you are yet unexposed to. While a Princess must suffer them, you do not and I am worried you do not yet understand their impact."
Sunset raised an eyebrow. "Given the number of things you refuse to tell me about, that's no surprise."
If the barb caused any pain, Celestia didn't show it. "You jest, but in both cases I merely seek to protect you until you are ready."
Magma-hot frustration bubbled up through Sunset's gut. "So now I'm not ready enough to have a date or become a princess?"
That one hit harder. Princess Celestia's eyes popped open and the flicker of a frown crossed her serene features. "Sunset."
The unicorn shut her mouth, knowing she had pushed her insubordination as far as she could without punishment - but she still smiled at her victory.
A few seconds passed before Celestia was satisfied her student was quiet. "There are aspects of my life - and Cadance's - that you are not part of," she continued. "As merely my student, you retain some distance from the throne and the public eye. Perhaps one day you will learn just how invaluable little things like privacy are. And just as importantly, dating Cadance will pull you deeper into politics and the games of nobility. As much as I have tried to keep Cadance free of it, she will inevitably be drawn there - as you shall be, if you're by her side."
Sunset's response was a grunt. Celestia was right. Cadance would draw her further in to the web of Equestrian politics as time went on. But the warning came with the presumption that Sunset wouldn't become involved later (say, after her coronation) and that Sunset couldn't handle herself. Most of the so-called nobles were cork-horned noponies who lived and died off the merits of a distant ancestor; thus they were of no consequence. So Sunset raised her chin in egotistical defiance. "I'm ready."
"So you say." Princess Celestia dismissed it as quickly as Sunset spoke. Her horn lit, reaching to a side table. Held in that golden aura, a box of sandalwood floated silently over. A flick and the latch opened, showing an interior lined with black velvet. Sitting in the center was a triangular bronze amulet on a long chain: the amulet itself bore an odd insignia of an acorn with a jagged horn sticking out of the top; the chain's anchor points and the bottom tip of the triangle were set with pale green gems. "But I still offer you this, Sunset Shimmer. It is a powerful artifact that I have kept for many, many centuries. It has no formal name, but that does not diminish the power it holds." She floated it to her hoof - and stretched it out to offer to Sunset. "It will allow you to temporarily change your form and assume the appearance of any pony you wish, real or imagined."
Sunset's eyes widened with the possibilities.
But Celestia wasn't done. "I don't wish to stop you or Cadance from going out to the Festival, but I do offer this to you so that you may disguise yourself. Sunset Shimmer being publicly seen on a date with Princess Cadance could ruin your life - but a mystery pony who is never seen again afterwards is only a rumor, and those evaporate like mist in the dawn."
Instantly, all those possibilities running through Sunset's mind turned sour. "I will not hide," Sunset snarled through boiling anger. "If ponies have a problem with me, I'll deal with them just like I always have. A bunch of stupid, jealous fools who get offended every time somepony's better than they are will not dictate my life. I will dictate theirs." Internally, she pulled back on the reins. Sunset knew she was too close to saying the quiet part out loud.
"I am merely trying to protect you." Princess Celestia pushed back with iron restraint, challenging Sunset's determination.
Her response was a sneer. "If you're so concerned about that, maybe you should ask Cadance to disguise herself instead."
Silence. Guilty silence. Then the Princess' similarly guilty admission: "I already asked her. She declined."
The sneer became a victorious grin. Sunset didn't even need to speak to get her point across - one Celestia certainly already knew.
"I only want you both to be safe," the Princess repeated, a hint of fear creeping into her voice.
Sunset saw a weakness and instinctively stabbed. "What's next, then? Eight PM curfews? Chaperones? Or," she challenged with an oily smile, "Do you think it's time to sit us down and explain the birds and the bees, mom?"
That last word was spoke with grave contempt - and yet the response wasn't what Sunset expected. She had anticipated anger and accusations, the flames blossoming into a full fight as Celestia insisted that she respected her student and saw her as an adult even as she treated her like a child. But the Princess didn't. Celestia simply went very, very quiet and looked at the floor.
Seconds passed and Sunset's vicious smile faded. "...Princess Celestia?" Her voice was whisper-thin. Something was wrong and deep down under the pride and the ambition and the anger, that terrified Sunset.
The Princess didn't speak. She rose from her seat, gold-shod hooves sinking into the carpet. Slow, measured steps traveled towards the edge of the room, transitioning from cushioned silence to the tap of keratin on marble. Sunset rose and followed, a half-dozen steps behind.
Once she was fully off the carpet, Princess Celestia stopped. Her eyes closed and her horn lit. "You used to watch me raise the sun every morning," she softly narrated, emotions lapping at the edge of her serenity. "But despite your name, my brilliant student, I don't think I remember you ever being there when I lowered it."
She had been. But it had also been a long time since they had shared the moment.
Power pulsed through the room as Celestia's magic reached out into the cosmos. It felt different than raising the sun: Celestia's morning magic had very specific sensations to it. There was heat - everypony expected that. It was like you could feel the first rays of the sun on your body before the sun actually rose, playing a gentle, blanket-like warmth across you. There was the pressure on your horn from the raw strength of the monumental magic in your presence. Not like air pressure, but more similar to a hoof pressing inwards on your brain from every direction. You simply felt smaller by being in the magic's presence. And there was a scent to it, as well. Sunset could only ever remember alicorn magic engaging that sense. She always smelled spring in Celestia's magic, but when the sun rose it was closer to a field of poppies: floral and alive, but subtle enough to not overwhelm.
The sun's setting and moon's rise was close and yet not. The heat logically felt to fade - tapering off, like an invisible breeze that ran down your back without disturbing a hair. The pressure was no different, though it did feel a little weaker. The true difference was the scent: sharp and clean, like a crisp winter morning. It grew in intensity as the moon lifted, only slacking off when Celestia finished the job and extinguished her magic with a gasp of effort.
They turned - Celestia first and then Sunset - to the east. There wasn't a good view of the moonrise from the west solarium, but the Mare In The Moon could be seen peeking around the side of one of the Palace towers. Both stared for minutes - though Sunset more in anticipation for the Princess to speak. The moment was too delicate to risk breaking.
Nearly fifteen minutes had passed in silence when Celestia finally spoke. Almost not to Sunset, either - her eyes stayed locked onto the Mare's distant eye in the visible third of the moon. "There's so much I want to tell you," said the alicorn. Her voice's tone was unfamiliar: regretful and longing. "So much I should have told you. But I can't. It isn't the right time." A little bitter laugh slipped out. "It's always the wrong time, isn't it."
Hesitantly, Sunset took a step closer. "So tell me."
Celestia turned her head to look at her student. "I can't. And not because you aren't ready, Sunset. That is a different debate all together. I cannot tell you because I have to protect you. I have to protect all my little ponies." She turned back to the distant moon. "You will rage and cry and not understand, and that's okay because you will have the opportunity to do so." A pregnant pause - almost as if waiting to see if Sunset would argue. (She didn't.) "You talk about becoming a princess, but you do not understand what that means. That's why I have to protect you."
Another step closer, and Sunset defiantly raised her chin. "Protect me from what?"
With a cryptic smile, Celestia simply answered, "From being a princess."
Sunset frowned sharply at how little sense that made.
"Use the amulet." Princess Celestia's plea was quiet. "Please."
The response was stronger. "No."
And the Princess sighed. Something unidentifiable broke. "I could force the situation, but I won't. That would just be repeating my mistakes yet again, wouldn't it?" Her voice hardened, losing the quiet pleading and introspection it had held and transforming to the cool neutrality of Celestia at Day Court. "Enjoy your date. Have fun and make merry. In time you shall see why I have spoken as I have, and I pray that it is not too late." She waved a wing to dismiss the unicorn. "Go, my student."
It wasn't until she was out the door that it hit Sunset: Princess Celestia had said 'my student' without the usual 'brilliant'.
Harvest festivals were not, strictly speaking, Sunset Shimmer's thing. She had been to a few - all prior to her time as Princess Celestia's student, which soured them further - and they were almost universally boring. To be fair, Sunset could admit that even as a foal she had been atypical and overly mature: hayrides and petting zoos and corn mazes were nothing compared to a good book and they were useless in helping a budding princess reach her destiny.
Of course, this year's festival was theoretically doing just that. Cadance's presence changed a lot of things for Sunset.
They had met just after breakfast outside the Palace's main gate.
Sunset had opted for a teal scarf to keep herself warm - it had been a present from Princess Celestia not long after Sunset became her student. It encapsulated their relationship, as far as Sunset was concerned: while Celestia had access to the finest materials and top designers, she had given Sunset a scarf made from normal (if well-spun) wool and hoof-knit by somepony with mediocre skills. But it was warm, functional, and went with her eyes so Sunset had kept it.
Cadance's scarf was creamy white with baby blue cables, but more notable was the look of sour irritation on her face as she arrived.
"Problem?" Sunset tried not to smirk and managed to mostly kept it internal.
Cadance let out an irate snort, ears flat to her head. "This scarf's supposed to have a matching knit hat." She paused for a beat. "A really cute one!"
Sunset raised an eyebrow. "And you aren't wearing it because...?"
The alicorn pouted. "Because it doesn't fit over this stupid horn." Her eyes crossed as she tried to glare at the offending appendage.
For a moment, things were quiet. And then Sunset broke out into mad laughter. After several more seconds, Cadance gave in and joined her with a more restrained giggle.
That hiccup aside, the date started well. Both mares chattered and laughed on the walk down - Cadance was eager to talk about anything and everything, while Sunset limited herself to the occasional interjection plus a few quick anecdotes about recent events at CSGU. The twenty-five minute walk flew by in a breezy haze of light conversation through the chill air of early November.
Ancient experience told Sunset that festivals like this one were usually held in some variation on a field: broad, open spaces that were frequently farmland repurposed after the crops had been cleared away. Maybe a town square or a fairgrounds if the settlement was big enough. But always wide, flat, and open. Canterlot had no such spaces: bolted onto the side of a mountain, flat spaces were rare to begin with and almost always occupied by structures older than any living pony (save one.) Open was right out in the maze of urban alleyways, and the nearest fairground was Baltimare. But Canterlot was also the capital and the center of Equestria, so it had to have festivals: one per season, at minimum. So without a suitable space, Canterlot festivals were bizarre, snake-like affairs that wound along the city's streets. Normal traffic was largely blocked, which in turn upset shopkeepers who couldn't get their usual hoof traffic - causing them to move their shops to the sidewalks to gain more attention and further clog things until the entire city moved at a snail's pace.
That overcrowding was a large part of why most Canterlot festivals were known as 'commoner events' - few if any of the nobility wanted to literally rub shoulders with their servants in the crowd, and so high society had abandoned the city's larger celebrations in favor of more clique-friendly garden parties and galas where the guest list was tightly controlled. (It was also an open secret that Princess Celestia didn't attend Canterlot's festivals for a similar reason: she knew that if she attended, every noble and flank-kisser in the city would scramble to attend as well. So by her not attending, she preserved the peace to let the common pony to enjoy themselves.)
And those common enjoyments were everywhere from the moment Sunset and Cadance arrived. They had barely made it past the first row of booths before they each had an ear of roast corn slathered in paprika and garlic butter. Ten steps later, they were watching a clown dressed as a scarecrow making balloon animals for foals. Ten after that, a pony was handing out fliers to promote an event deeper into the tangle: a pukwudgie race. (Sunset - not being a fool - very strongly warned Cadance off of going to see the 'adorable critters' in action.)
Instead she steered them towards a much less dangerous attraction: a woodworker carving a large statue with a chainsaw. They stayed long enough to finish their corn, making playful guesses at what the massive log would eventually become. When they left, they made final bets over the wager of who would pay for dinner - Sunset claimed it would be Princess Celestia's face, while Cadance put her money on a deer-like harvest spirit called a Seedling.
From there they wound down into the old servant's district that was the heart of the celebration. The trees that lined those cobblestone streets were near the end of the season, but still threw a canopy across the celebration that was bolstered by streamers in orange and red and yellow. The first stop Sunset steered them towards was her one ally in the neighborhood: Wallflower's family had turned the sidewalk in front of their shop into a snack stand selling daisy sandwiches and candied rose petals.
But it wasn't the food Sunset was stopping for.
Waving a hoof, Sunset pulled the attention of the older earth pony over. "Hey, is Wallflower here?"
It took a moment, but then he recognized Sunset - and beamed the smile only a proud father could. "Why yes she is! You were her customer, weren't you?" A nod from Sunset, and he whistled. "Wally! There's a friend here for you!"
Wallflower's entrance was heralded by a low grumble. "Dad, you know I don't have any--" Her eyes lit up as soon as she saw Sunset. "--You're back!" Excitement bubbling, she scrambled to the counter. "Did the flowers work? I still say yellow irises were the right choice but I have to know if you did it."
Grinning ear to ear, Sunset stepped slightly to the side. "Well, since you helped me I thought I owed you an update. Wallflower Blush, I want you to meet my marefriend - Princess Cadance." It was the first time Sunset had said the words, and something deep inside her chest bounced at saying them.
Cadance, for her part, blushed a little as she stepped up to the counter. "Thank you for helping Sunset with the wonderful bouquet."
But the true reaction was Wallflower's as her face passed from shock to awe, finally being told who the flowers had been for. She beat her father to bowing by less than a second - and that touched off a ripple that went through the crowd. Not everypony went into a bow, but the conversation turned to a hushed rumble as every nearby eye focused on the alicorn in their midst.
"I'm honored to hear that you liked my daughter's work, Your Highness." Wallflower's father was quick to cut in where his daughter was awestruck.
Cadance - shifting from one side to the other with rapid unease - motioned to him with a wing. "It's Cadance. Just Cadance." Her eyes darted at the growing attention of the crowd. "Please stand?" Desperation stampeded rather than crept into her voice.
He did, but his eyes stayed averted from meeting those of royalty. "As you command." He quickly reached over, grabbing one of the wax paper packets of candied rose petals. "I would be honored if the Princess of Love would take a small token of gratitude from our humble shop."
Cadance backed away from the offering like it was a snake.
Instantly Sunset stepped up beside her, taking the little bag in her magic. "Why thank you so much! The Princess and I are very grateful for your family's help. I could never have asked her to this festival if it wasn't for Wallflower's assistance." It was a game - Sunset learned well from Celestia, even if it was observation rather than proper education. Smile widely, enunciate clearly, keep your tone even, speak at a loud volume without shouting. "We will be sure to come back next time we need some flowers." Assure everypony around that it was all fine before disengaging.
The florist bowed again as Sunset nudged Cadance to reverse. Around them, the now-aware crowd parted to give passage to royalty while staying within gawking distance. The pair inched towards a side-street, with Cadance staying glued to her unicorn companion's side. Luck came in when two stallions - ones Sunset recognized as members of the Royal Guard in civilian clothes - blocked the path behind them by moving a food cart full of kettle corn down the road. It bought several seconds for Sunset to teleport them both to the only nearby location Sunset knew: the inside of the flower shop. Fortunately it was behind where the crowd was looking and indoors, giving a brief bit of peace.
Cadance, meanwhile, was trembling.
"Hey. Hey." Sunset awkwardly patted her date's side. Giving comfort was wholly unfamiliar to her, but she had seen the motions enough time to get the gist. "We're away from the crowd now, alright? Just breathe."
She did. Cadance lowered herself to the floor, taking deep breaths that gradually brought strength back to her limbs and allowing her to raise her head again. "I'm sorry." She paused, briefly biting her lower lip. "I just... froze."
"Princess Celestia hasn't let you out in an uncontrolled situation yet," Sunset guessed. And the nod she got confirmed it. "So when you got that gift..."
"Why did he do that?" Cadance's interruption was almost by reflex.
It took a moment for Sunset to grasp the question - and when she did, it made her sigh heavily. "She didn't even teach you..." A grumble of frustration. "Look at it from his perspective. He's a florist. Half of his business is ponies buying flowers for dates, spouses, or weddings. So when the living representation of Love walks up in public and thanks him for the bouquet, what do you think happens?"
To her credit, Cadance wasn't stupid - just uneducated. "Everypony sees it and takes my thank you as an endorsement."
Sunset nodded. "You probably tripled his customer list by using the word 'wonderful'."
A grimace crossed Cadance's face. "And then I tried to refuse his gift."
"Which would have put him out of business within a month, because who's going to buy flowers for your date from a shop that the Princess of Love disapproves of?" Sunset shook her head. "That's why I had to step in like that."
Cadance's head flopped to the floor. "But I didn't mean any of that. I just wanted to say thank you."
"It's the power of being a princess," Sunset observed with ironic bitterness. "Princess Celestia should have taught you this months ago. This is why she's so stingy with her emotions. She would rather be cold than rock the boat - there's a lot of damage she could do with a smile." There were, of course, degrees to Celestia's smile and many of them were lies - but this wasn't the time to muddy the waters.
Laying her neck against Cadance's in a half-nuzzle, Sunset mentally cursed her lack of wings - for the first time because of how useful they were to hug with rather than other reasons.
They were quiet and alone for a minute, though Sunset saw movement out of the corner of her eye: Wallflower had briefly slipped inside to pick up a new batch of rose petals. Thankfully she didn't press, leaving the pair to have their breather. The only acknowledgement she gave was a sly, smirking wink of approval to Sunset before disappearing again.
But clumsy as Sunset's attempts to be comforting were, they worked well enough to ease Cadance back into stability - if not into happiness. "I hate being a princess." Cadance barely murmured it. "I want to go home and see my parents again. I don't want any of this."
"That isn't how it works. You're a princess. Nothing can change that." Sunset sat up, though she stayed beside Cadance on the floor. "Even if you ran away, you wouldn't stop being a princess." She hesitated for a moment. "And I still don't really understand why you wouldn't want to be. This was just a... a temporary hiccup because Princess Celestia messed up your education."
Sour as limes, Cadance sighed. "I don't want to be a princess because I want to be normal again. I want to go on dates and cook my own meals and not worry about assassins or ruining somepony's life because I smiled the wrong way." She pulled her wings up, tenting them over her head. "I thought maybe this date could be normal, but I guess I was wrong."
Sunset pursed her lips. "...I've got an idea. Stay here a minute." There was no response - and so Sunset snuck out the back door. The rear alley was barely notable, acting only as a small pass-through for ponies to leave out their garbage. (That much was clear by the smell.)
A quick glance around spotted a bulky brown-furred pegasus with a blue mane and wearing a crimson windbreaker trotting in her direction down the unlikely path. Holding up a hoof, Sunset waved him down. "Give me your coat." It was not a request.
"...Excuse me?" He stopped dead several paces away in confusion as a teenage unicorn half his size demanded he strip.
"Give me your coat," Sunset repeated more forcefully. When he didn't immediately respond, she sighed with irritation. "Spearhead, I know that's you. Just because the armor's off doesn't mean I can't recognize a Guard. So you can stop pretending that you aren't undercover being a bodyguard and give me your coat. Cadance needs it."
He hesitated for a moment, then pulled off the jacket with a grumble. "Technically the correct term is plain-clothes, not undercover."
"Yeah, don't care." And Sunset didn't. She just wanted his coat, and she got it. "You can tell the rest of the guards Princess Celestia had tail us that Cadance and I are going to come out of this door in about three minutes and we'll be heading south towards Rein-Back Square."
Spearhead's wings fluffed up, now exposed to the chilly air. "Have I said lately that I'm glad you're on our side? You could be a real pain in the flank if you wanted to cause real problems."
Sunset shot him a playful wink. "Too bad I'm on my side, then." He rolled his eyes and grumbled, but she didn't stick around for his retort.
Ducking back inside, Sunset quickly draped the jacket across Cadance's back. "Here, step one."
The alicorn raised her head so she could twist and look back at the piece of clothing. "Huh?"
Sunset's magic pulled the coat around Cadance, wrapping her barrel. "You can get normal if we make you look a bit less like a princess. This thing's huge on you, so you can hide your wings." She paused, glancing at those fluffy, multi-hued wings that still peeked out from the jacket's edges. "They're way easier than the horn."
At the suggestion, Cadance stood and shuffled the jacket on. Indeed it was too big for her in the right way - it wasn't perfect, but in a crowd she would probably pass for a leggy unicorn. After giving herself a look over, Cadance glanced to Sunset. "I... I guess I should have taken Auntie's advice and used the disguise to start."
Oh-so-familiar fury burned in Sunset's gut. "Absolutely not." She bit back the anger, taking a moment before starting again. "You're making the choice because you're not comfortable. She wanted to make the choice for you because she's afraid."
The statement of Celestia being afraid visibly confused Cadance - but she let it go. "Is the jacket going to be enough?" She flexed her wings a little, puffing the fabric out.
"Covering your mark would be good, but we work with what we've got." Sunset, however, had that now familiar knowing grin on. "But I've got one more part to the disguise, and I think you'll like it."
She did. In fact, Cadance was giggling wildly.
"And done." The unicorn with the brush pulled back and smiled. "Some of my best work for a beautiful filly."
The mirror came around, allowing Cadance to see herself. The pink fur of her face was almost entirely concealed, covered in a playful layer of paint. Most was under a layer of celestial white that acted as canvas for the real art: a beautiful Monarch butterfly that lay across her face like a masquerade mask. She gasped - and then started giggling happily again.
Sunset hoofed over a few extra bits. "I didn't think you'd object to getting some face-painting."
"I haven't done it in years!" Dancing out of the chair with rapidly clacking hooves, Cadance giddily high-stepped over to her date. "You should do it next!"
Hesitation. A frown. "Well, I, uh--"
Cadance countered Sunset's reluctance with a pair of begging doe-like eyes surrounded by butterfly wings. "Please?"
Sunset chose to have her design be a dragon: fine green scales of paint with a hard brown ridge up the center of her muzzle as a 'frill'.
With suitable disguises, they meandered deeper into the festival. Occasionally Sunset would catch a glimpse of their plainclothes escort - the rather chilly Spearhead bought a nice gray sweater for himself at some point - but for the most part they were able to wander and partake without further interruption.
And that suited Cadance just fine. She hadn't noticed the tails and the longer she went without being recognized, the more her good mood returned. And strangely Sunset found herself smiling wider as Cadance laughed.
Face-painting led to a stallion doing street magic. Street magic led to briefly assisting a group of foals who were scrambling through the festival on a scavenger hunt. That hunt - while attempting to help them find a non-pegasus feather - brought them to a hobbyist painting competition, the artists vying for the invaluable prize of a first-place ribbon and a meal at the local pub. And that competition, in turn, led the pair to an airborne hayride where a team of pegasi took donations for the Lower Canterlot Fire Company in exchange for a ten minute ride aboard a hay-filled sled over top of the festival.
And throughout it all, there wasn't a moment where they didn't have one form of food or another. Caramel apples, fried dough, chili hayfries, cups of warm soups, and far more were constantly in their hooves or magic. By the time dinner arrived - around about when they were watching with glee as Royal Guard volunteers demonstrated the use of a trebuchet by hurling pumpkins off the side of the mountain to a chorus of cheers - neither was even slightly hungry. So after stopping back to settle their bet about the chainsaw carving (and both losing as it turned out to be a bust of Commander Hurricane), they started to worm their way back towards the castle.
Distantly behind them, the sounds of a concert kicked into full swing. The Canterlot Symphony Orchestra was playing a medley of jaunty harvest tunes, bouncing with an unusual vigor and joy. Ahead, the Palace loomed large and signaled a return back to their more normal lives.
Still, in spite of her earlier complaints about that life, Cadance was all smiles. "I can't believe how far that pumpkin flew! I just wish we could have seen what it looked like when it landed."
"Next year," Sunset suggested through her grin, "Maybe we could offer to help. Far-seeing spells aren't that hard, so if one of us is at the bottom and the other's at the top, we could watch the impact and project the image to everypony watching."
Gleefully, Cadance clapped her hooves. "That sounds fun! It's a date!"
They both went quiet at that, mutually blushing.
"Hopefully not the second date," Sunset half asked, half commented with a quiet unease.
It took Cadance a moment to grasp Sunset's meaning - then she flashed a shy but knowing smile. "Is that your way of asking for a second date sooner than next year?"
The counter was swift and sassy. "Is that your way of saying you want a second one?"
They both looked at each other - and then broke out laughing.
"Yes," Cadance answered.
The weight lifted off Sunset's shoulders. "Awesome."
That preliminary question handled, Cadance moved to the next problem. "Scheduling might be tough, though. We're both pretty busy. And I know we'll make time! But that's easier said than done." She - and Sunset - frowned. "I could ask Kibitz for help, maybe?"
Sunset shook her head. "Ask Raven Inkwell. Kibitz is good at coordinating, but Raven's the mare who keeps the schedules. If anypony can carve us out time together without disrupting anything, it's her."
That was the point that they reached the gates and passed into the Palace grounds proper. The guards there gave both a nod of greeting, one stepping aside afterwards to note in the logs that both princess and student had arrived.
It took perhaps another two or three minutes for them to reach their split - Sunset's rooms were by the base of the northern Noon Tower, while Cadance's were in the east annex. They paused where they were to take their separate paths, each looking to each other for a cue of what was supposed to happen next.
Sunset - being who she was - took the initiative. "So. We're still on for Thursday? I thought of a couple new field dexterity exercises to challenge you." She conspiratorially leaned closer and stage-whispered. "Juggling while I quiz you with math problems to disrupt your concentration."
Laughing, Cadance rolled her eyes. "Yes, Thursday." Her wing reached out to grab the leaning Sunset, pulling her date into a hug. "Thank you, Sunset. Today was really, really great and I needed it." She paused, lips pursed at the memory of the flower shop. "Maybe more than I realized I did, given my breakdown." A nervous eye flicked to Sunset. "Can you... not tell Auntie I did that?"
Sunset drew a hoof across her lips. "I won't say a thing." She knew the bodyguards would tell Celestia soon enough anyway.
The alicorn gave Sunset another squeeze before the hug broke. Then they stood for a few more seconds in awkward silence - neither wanting to definitively end things. But they eventually had to, and it was Sunset who gave in first.
"Well, uh. G'night, Cadance." She waved half-heartedly and took a step backwards.
"Good night, Sunset." Cadance smiled softly to her date. "Thank you for a wonderful day."
That night, Sunset dreamed of flying as she so often did.
For the first time in a long time, however, she wasn't flying alone.
Now, one would be forgiven for thinking that Cadance attended Celestia's School For Gifted Unicorns. It only made sense, after all. She was a Princess, Celestia was her adoptive aunt, and it was the best school in Canterlot. But Cadance's attendance was only part-time and mostly theoretical.
Thanks to her provincial education (as Sunset generously thought of it), Cadance was behind on a great many subjects and her role as a princess required a number of classes that weren't taught to the rank and file students at CSGU. Even more so, she had only had a horn for three-ish months and had just recently progressed beyond basic levitation. This rendered much of the School's curriculum inaccessible or impractical. So most of her educational time was taken up by private tutors - of which Sunset technically was one - with only the occasional class at the School. Those, in fact, were only to get Cadance out of the Palace and to ease her into the (semi-)public eye. She certainly didn't need to go to a class about early Reneighssance literature.
Still, Sunset wasn't going to complain. It meant just that much more opportunity to see and spend time with Cadance. (Time that was sparse but rapidly growing. Raven Inkwell's talent for schedule management had magically found at least a little time each day for them - five minutes here, twenty there. And in turn Cadance had been so open with her praise that the young clerk had rapidly jumped from one of the many minor Day Court functionaries to gaining Princess Celestia's personal attention and thanks in only a few days.)
Class itself had been dull: studying Le Morte de Celestia was hardly what Sunset would have called a good use of her time. Literature as a whole held little value for Sunset, despite her recent warming up to the arts in general. Still - the class had Cadance in it and that did markedly improve things.
Her presence meant the time after class was well-spent, too. In the week since the festival, knowledge of Sunset and Cadance's relationship had burned through the city (and by extension, the school) like fire across an angry kirin. Everypony was talking about it and Sunset had played her cards close. Every question was shut down with a simple statement: Wait for Cadance. She would answer nothing without the alicorn's presence, because without her to confirm there was no assurance of truth. And without that assurance, Sunset's comments about the relationship would hold as much weight as Blueblood's empty claims.
Plus it stoked the flames of rumor - not answering was the surest way to increase speculation and curiosity.
None were more curious than the gaggle of sycophants that constantly hovered around Sunset - ponies who hoped to be carried with her when she rose and to shelter in her aura. Most were older than Sunset (unsurprising, given her superior intellect and thus advanced placement in classes) but they never seemed to have anything on their minds beyond trivial things like what bands were popular or the latest makeup trends. Cadance called them Sunset's friends, but that was just the alicorn's naïve nature. Still, Sunset humored her and had actually started to learn their names.
Like the one speaking to Cadance now was Cayenne - a gray mare with a maroon mane - and she was absolutely obsessed with the story behind Sunset's bouquet. One of her friends - a beige-on-beige named Sweet Biscuit - was taking more notes on the flower language than she had taken during class itself.
Sunset, for the most part, ignored what they were saying as she lounged at her desk. They were inconsequential and just using the opportunity to get close to Cadance, after all. (Which was unsurprising and good common sense, admittedly.) The free period would be over in fifteen minutes or so and they would go away again.
She did notice when they all fell into a deep, tense hush, however. All eyes in the room turned to the door - and to Blueblood. Unsurprisingly, his usual sneer of superior disdain was accompanied by a barely concealed layer of fury. That, in turn, made Sunset smile.
"Princess Cadance." He crossed the room at a brisk pace, acknowledging the alicorn with a bow of his head and a terse greeting before he was halfway there. Then his eyes turned and burned into his real target. "Sunset Shimmer."
The crowd backed away a half-step.
Sunset didn't bother to restrain her smugness. "Hey Blueblood."
He responded with a low growl.
Cadance was quick to interpose herself, taking a position to block their fire at each other. "Remember - stay calm." She directed her words towards Sunset, but it was clear she was talking to them both. "I don't think Auntie Celestia would be happy if there was a repeat of last time."
Sunset and Blueblood looked at each other. They glared - but also nodded. Involving Celestia again wasn't something either of them wanted.
After a few more moments of growling, Blueblood restarted the conversation. "Would you care to speak in private, Miss Shimmer?" His eyes darted to Cadance. And as predicted, she took another step forward.
Sunset pre-empted that. "I won't touch him," she promised before the concern could even be raised. "Physically or with magic." And before Cadance could turn her attention to Blueblood, Sunset interrupted again. "He'll be fine, too. It's not like Bluey can hurt me."
The heavy stench of confidence made Cadance frown and Blueblood snarl - but it squashed the alicorn's objections.
Still bathing in the glow of romantic victory and superiority, Sunset sauntered out of the room with Blueblood. She knew how this was going to go: he would lead her to somewhere semi-private, yell impotently about how dare she do this, she would say a few snarky comments and then walk off. It was dull, honestly. Predictable.
The hallways were empty - after all, it was the middle of the day. Everypony was in their classrooms, learning and reading. Blueblood still paused to look around and be sure there were no observers.
Sunset drew up beside him with a smug grin.
The grin vanished as she slammed against the wall with enough force to jostle her teeth. A magical grip, she could have broken in an instant. But Blueblood was using his hooves, with one against her shoulder and the other on her throat. The taut, wiry muscles he had built as captain of the fencing team weren't much, but they overwhelmed Sunset's lackluster physical form that considered lifting anything heavier than a teacup the exclusive work of magic.
"Wh--"
Blueblood let up his pressure, just so he could shove her again and rattle Sunset's skull (and demeanor). "How dare you," he hissed. That part of Sunset's evaluation was at least accurate. "It was infuriating enough that you were trying to thwart me, but now that I truly see what you're up to? I had not imagined you capable of such gall."
Squirming, Sunset tried to break his grip - unsuccessfully. Her magic started to shove Blueblood away, but all she got for the trouble was a hoof to the horn that left her head ringing.
"I don't know if you took Princess Cadance away from me as part of some wider plan or if it was just out of jealousy." He pushed harder, managing to slightly lift Sunset off the floor. "I also don't care why. Your actions with her are a slap in the face and an obvious attempt to humiliate me." Blueblood's eyes were familiar to Sunset: she'd seen them in the mirror enough times. Her temper was infamous throughout the Palace and now it was sitting in Blueblood's furious face. "If it was just my own, I would tolerate it. But by flaunting your momentary triumph, you have trod upon my family's honor and name. That means nothing to you, but it means everything to me."
A dozen easy insults sprang to Sunset's mind. The only thing that got past her lips was a helpless gurgle. Her hooves pawed at the wall behind her to try and gain leverage but merely slid off the smooth tiled surface. Unfamiliar panic rose inside her as Sunset realized that for once she had no power over the situation. Her horn lit again in desperation, only for Blueblood to smack it again. (At least it meant her neck was free for a breath-long moment.)
"You will be released once I am finished and not a moment before." Blueblood leaned closer, his face filling her vision. The hot anger he had started with had rapidly cooled to its more dangerous cousin: calculated, calm fury. That level, even tone carried far more power with it for just how much rage it held back. "Normally I would demand you cease your pathetic attempts and get out of my way, but I know you're too petulant for that. So I will simply make three things clear, Miss Shimmer."
He slowly lowered Sunset down, letting her hooves touch the floor again as his strength waned. She didn't fight back further - yet. The thought of another crack to her still swimming head was enough to dissuade her. "Firstly, that your relationship is destined to fall apart. You're intelligent but you are not smart, and that will be your end because you think yourself more clever than you are. In time, both Princesses will see just how flawed their little pet is and will put you in your proper place."
Blueblood's sneer deepened. "Second, once that happens I will be there to lift Princess Cadance back up from where you've dragged her down to. All your struggling against your station can do is delay the moment. We were inequal from birth. That is how the world works and no amount of magical power in your or any horn will change that."
"And third, I wish to make it clear that even after you have lost and I have won, I will not be forgetting this betrayal. Under other circumstances, I would be a gracious winner and let you slip away into the shadows of shame. But your actions have publicly besmirched my family's reputation and the honor of my line, and that is intolerable. So long as you remain within Canterlot, you will not have peace. I will ruin you tomorrow, next month, next year, and as far past that as you are within my reach. I and my children and my children's children will dog you until the day you die - and when you do, we will pay to ensure that whatever grave you are buried in is unmarked and in the poorest pauper's cemetery so that none will ever remember the name of Sunset Shimmer."
He spit it as the most vile curse he could imagine, backed with chill venom. Against a noble of Canterlot, it would have likely struck home. They cared about family and bloodlines and legacy. But Sunset Shimmer knew her destiny - the mirror had shown it to her. There was no substance to Blueblood's threat and it washed over her like a breeze.
He glared at her with hate, waiting for her to break.
She glared back with defiance.
Blueblood gave Sunset one last shove before releasing her. "I hope your next date is enjoyable."
It was tempting to smite him then and there. But Sunset knew the consequences were high and the reward only temporary - blasting Blueblood through the wall would feel amazing, but it wouldn't solve anything. It wouldn't get Blueblood out of her life.
And in that moment, Sunset wanted him gone more than being a princess.
Blueblood seemed to anticipate her lashing out - he waited, standing before her, braced for the strike. When it didn't come he slowly backed away, each step growing more nervous. After ten, he turned and walked away as fast as his dignity would allow.
Out of the corner of her eye, Sunset spotted an observer peeking out from the bathrooms: one of her circle of 'friends'. She had learned the pink mare's name earlier that day - Clear Sky - but hadn't bothered with anything more. She hadn't been important. Before.
Closing the distance, Sunset put herself eye to eye with the mare. She was older - a year further along than Sunset was, even before accounting for Sunset's advanced placement. But despite the age, Clear Sky shrank back when CSGU's fiery terror approached her with intense purpose.
"What did you see happen here." Sunset's tone stayed flat and even.
Clear Sky cowered back from Sunset's well-known temper. "Nothing! I--I didn't see anything!"
Sunset shook her head. "No, you saw everything. But you aren't going to tell anypony about it yet." She stepped closer - Clear Sky tried to step away, only to hit the wall. "I can handle Blueblood, and when I do? You're going to tell everypony what happened here and they'll see just how far his threats got him."
The frightened unicorn nodded rapidly - and Sunset left her be.
Cadance - and everypony else in the room - turned towards the door as Sunset returned. The others faded back, giving the alicorn room to approach her marefriend. "Are you okay?" It was a tentative question from the alicorn - both concerned and guarded.
It didn't need to be. Sunset's confirming nod was strong and quick. "Yeah. He made a lot of threats, but it's just Blueblood. There's nothing he can really do, so I let him rant." She gave Cadance a saucy wink. "You should be proud of me. I didn't blast him when he turned his back on me."
Cadance let out a held breath and wrapped her wings around Sunset. (The crowd cooed a quiet "Awwww.") "Thank you for keeping calm. I was worried."
Sunset hugged her back. "No need to be. He's got no power - let him do what ever he wants. He can't stop us."
To be fair to Cadance, it did look pretty neat. Her baby blue magic was holding a half-dozen lit coals in the air, each bobbing as if in water. The charcoal - despite hovering at head height - continued to burn merrily and Cadance could only stare in wonder.
It was an exercise derived from their previous session: Cadance had laughed about her awkward attempts to juggle using magic, quipping that Sunset's next step up in difficulty would be to set the balls on fire. She hadn't believed it - or at least vocally doubted - when Sunset informed her that a unicorn's magic aura didn't transmit hot and cold sensations back to the caster.
Now she believed it, because she was holding fire and remained unburned.
"Technically," Sunset lectured, "Your magic doesn't even have a sense of touch. It's more how the field can tell where it is and isn't when it pressed against an object, and your brain interprets it the same way as if you had the item in your hooves. But on a technical level, the senses are completely different and that's why you're missing things like hot and cold. You also couldn't tell if something covered in honey was sticky, for example."
Cadance slowly rotated one of the coals in the air, watching as the flame turned to remain upwards even as the fuel spun around.
Sunset tried not to smile. "Okay, so you're a moth now?" A quick swipe of her magic scooped the coals away from Cadance. "Come on, we've got work to do and nothing's getting done if you're going to be hypnotized by the nearest light source." She levitated the coals into the brass brazier she brought before capping it to extinguish them.
She had borrowed the Royal Guard's practice chamber again - albeit this time for a different reason. The wide open space of cool stone normally provided room for guards to perform combat magic in a controlled environment (and one that was made of strong enough material to withstand an errant blast or two), but this time Sunset wanted it mostly for the broad, domed shape.
"So today we're going to progress past raw magic and into actual spells." Sunset motioned for Cadance to move, positioning her in the dead center of the sparring ring and of the larger dome. "Since you seem to have some kind of talent with music, I thought we'd start with auditory illusions."
Cadance's head tilted. "I thought illusions were images."
That misconception was dispelled with a shake of Sunset's head. "The term covers all sensory magic, technically. Visual is the most common, but auditory's a close second." Reaching the edge of the ring, she paused to set down the brazier before returning back to her student. "The others are a lot more niche, though. Taste illusions are pretty much limited to bad restaurants and parents with foals that are picky eaters, smell requires a lot of magical power to get any practical effect so it's rarely used, and nopony has really figured out touch." She shrugged that little challenge off. "Anyway! None of that's important right now. The idea here is that I want to teach you how to do a repeater spell."
"Repeater spell?"
Sunset stepped closer, drawing up beside Cadance. The conversation paused for a moment as Cadance ambushed her fillyfriend with a brief nuzzle. "Uh, yeah. Repeater spell," she repeated. Sunset recomposed herself and tried to pretend she wasn't blushing. "The idea is that you can make your voice heard somewhere you aren't and possibly when you aren't speaking."
Comprehension lit in Cadance's eyes. "Oh! Ventriloquism!"
"Sort of," Sunset hesitantly allowed. "Why I wanted to teach you is so that you can kind of mimic how Princess Celestia has the Royal Canterlot Voice. You can't shout like that, but you can make it so that when you speak the words get repeated elsewhere. Then ponies won't have to strain to hear you when you're giving a speech because it'll seem like you're right next to them."
It was a practical spell for a public official or royal scion: Cadance would absolutely be forced into public speaking events and the like. Anything that could give her an edge would help and right now the pink princess needed every one she could get. Just Sunset's use of the word 'speech' had struck the alicorn dumb, purple eyes locked wide with fear.
Sunset leaned her head against Cadance's in a clumsy nuzzle of her own - enough to snap the alicorn out of her shock. "We'll take it slow, okay?" The responding nod was rabbit-quick, but it was there. "So step one: light your horn."
Closing her eyes to concentrate, Cadance did so.
"Step two," Sunset continued gently, "I want you to direct the magic inward to your throat. Like swallowing a big gulp of water."
The mnemonic took easy root and Cadance swallowed a mouthful of air. The baby blue glow of her horn stayed at the same intensity, but a similar (but more muted) glow coalesced around her throat.
"Good. Step three: Sing a single note. Any note," Sunset quickly added. "And project from your horn at the same rate you breathe out."
Cadance hesitated for a moment as she parsed the command - then she sang a simple tone. Formless, wordless, but even and strong. As she tried, the magic around her horn flickered like a candle before winking out. The tone went nowhere before dying off as Cadance ran out of breath.
Frowning, Sunset thought. "Hm. Alright, let's try again. A lot of unicorns use a guide-word to focus the spell, but with your raw alicorn power you shouldn't need to." For a moment, she pondered. "This time I want you to..." She paused again, struggling to translate unicorn instincts to the thoughts of a non-magical pony's. "You need to concentrate on both places in your body at once. It's like crossing your eyes. You have to maintain the magic both in your horn and your throat."
It took several minutes worth of tries before Cadance was able to strike the right balance and keep the energy in the appropriate places. Once she could, Sunset continued. "Step four now. Do it again, but as you sing I want you to project. But don't just project outwards, do it specifically at the brazier. Close your eyes and picture it, then focus on your voice being at that point. Like if your mouth was there rather than on your face."
With a slight nod, Cadance tried. Light her horn. Take a deep breath of air and gulp it down like water. Sing a single note. Picture the brazier.
The doppler-like effect of her own voice coming from a different location a millisecond late spooked Cadance - she lost focus on both the magic and the note as both ended with an audible fizzle. She wasn't dissuaded, though - instead looking to Sunset with bright, eager eyes.
The unicorn pursed her lips, trying not to laugh at the eager cheer. "Yeah, that was you. Try doing it again."
She did - light horn, swallow breath, sing, close eyes, focus on the point - and once more Cadance's voice rose from a spot several body lengths away from her. This time she was able to hold it as she opened her eyes and stared at the point before happily cantering in place at her success.
Sunset didn't hold back her smile. "Well done." She gave out the praise far more easily than Princess Celestia did. (It would have been hypocritical otherwise.) "I guess I was right that you've got a talent for auditory magic. That didn't take long at all."
Cadance's tune stopped as she beamed her brightest smile. And when she opened her mouth to express her joy...
Well. She had spent the last twenty minutes swallowing mouthfuls of air.
A belch exploded from a spot just over the brazier that echoed even louder in the domed room.
Cadance instantly turned bright red.
Ten tense seconds passed before Sunset finally gave in and snorted a little chuckle. That, in turn, prompted Cadance to start snickering. It took only a few more moments before both of them were on the floor laughing outrageously in a loose hug.
After several good minutes of laughter, they calmed enough for Sunset to speak up. "Well, I was going to warn you eventually about remembering to turn it off to avoid, uh, unintended vocalizations but I guess that's as good an object lesson as you could have."
And that sent them both into childish giggling again.
This time it passed a little quicker. A little.
Recomposing herself once more, Sunset tried to veer them back on track. "We'll have to practice it a lot more, but I think you understand the basics. Eventually you'll be able to have your voice project from multiple locations at once, amplify it, or even have it replay on a delay. It can't help you hit the volume Princess Celestia does but if the sound is coming from every place around the edge of a room, nopony will have a problem hearing what you're saying when you give a speech."
The mention of speeches visibly threw a bucket of water on Cadance's good cheer - in a flash, she went from giggles to a somber frown. But a thoughtful one, and a moment later she asked a seemingly non-sequitur question. "Sunset, does the spell only work with your own voice, or could you project other sounds?"
"Other sounds are pretty easy. This spell's actually the basis of a lot of stuff." Sunset didn't consider the relevance of the question, falling directly into teaching mode and thus missing the blatant change of topic. "Most enchanted items that make a sound are derived from this spell. Like if you ever see a loudspeaker at a concert, the enchantment powering it is using pretty much the same thing I just taught you."
Pressing a bit - and leaning into Sunset - Cadance followed up. "So like radios?"
Sunset quickly shook her head as her inner nerd took over. "Radios actually use a related spell called Crystal Clarity's Clear Communication which is based off of a telepathy spell, but close enough yeah."
Instantly, Cadance's grinning face was right in Sunset's, startling the unicorn backwards. "So you could cast that spell and just have a radio any time you wanted? Like you could do it right now?"
On one hoof, that wasn't the lesson and a radio spell was far too advanced for Cadance's barely passable skills. On the other, Cadance had used the phrase 'you could do it' and Sunset immediately interpreted that as a challenge. So it was no surprise when Sunset's horn lit. Eyes closed, it took her several seconds to 'tune in' properly and find a signal but when she did? The bouncy strains of Big Bop's Cantilly Lace started playing from the air just over Sunset's horn. A wave of her head sent the sound's source flying - orbiting the room to show off to Cadance just what was possible. After a full circle, it split into four different sources around them, echoing in a wide surrounding of sound.
Throughout it all, Cadance clapped giddily.
When the song ended, Sunset took a small, playful bow. Before she could cut the spell, however, Cadance grabbed her up. "Wait!" There was a moment of dead air before the next song began: the gentle piano opening of Suede Shoes' The Best Is Yet To Come. As the big band horns kicked in a few second later, Cadance's manic smile widened as she pulled Sunset towards the center of the ring again. "Dance with me!"
Sunset froze, Cadance's declaration stunning her as she so often did. "Uh."
Another tug as the alicorn tried to get them started. "Come on!" Her bright beaming smile gleamed much like a bug zapper to a moth.
The music winked out of existence as Sunset drooped. "I, uh. I've never actually danced before."
Cadance's expression fell to confusion. "Wait, really? There's four million balls and galas in Canterlot every year, and you don't know how to dance?"
The phrase 'you don't know' triggered a flinch that momentarily twisted Sunset Shimmer's face in pain.
"Princess Celestia didn't teach you?" Cadance's incredulity rose with every syllable.
Shamefaced, Sunset shook her head. "No. I-- She never dances, even at the balls. I questioned her about that once when I was a filly." She frowned, eyes focused off in the middle distance as she dredged up the old memory. "I asked her why everypony else at the party was dancing but she wasn't. She just smiled that..." Sunset fought the urge to say 'sad', but couldn't think of a better adjective for the memory. "That smile of hers and said 'My shoes are too tight, and I have forgotten how to dance.' I didn't understand what that meant and I still don't, but she obviously didn't think dancing was important, so I didn't think dancing was important. And I never bothered to learn." She ended with a lame half-shrug.
Cadance gripped Sunset's hooves all the harder. "Then it's time you did. And after I teach you, I'm going to teach her."
The somber moment was broken by Sunset's quiet snicker at Princess Celestia being anypony's student.
Baby blue magic grabbed Sunset by the fetlocks and pulled her up. "I'm teaching you first, though. We'll start with a simple upright slow dance so you can follow along with me easier. Hooves here and here," she commanded as she positioned Sunset upright and balanced against each other, with one hoof on each other's hip. "I'll lead so you can get used to it and watch my steps." She leaned closer, tapping the tip of her horn against Sunset's. "If you wouldn't mind tuning your magic radio to something slow we can practice to?"
The room was filled with static for a moment before Sunset's horn tuned away from Suede Shoes. It warbled indistinctly for a moment before the echoing room was filled with the gentle strings of Carol Martelé's Octavia Suite, composed to celebrate the birth of her granddaughter.
Cadance took the first step, slow and firm. Sunset copied her movement - and the alicorn smiled. "By the way," she commented as they danced at a snail's pace, "You might want to pick up a few books and study. I plan on making you dance with me at the New Year's Gala. Better be read~y," she sing-songed.
It was a threat.
And Sunset focused even harder on the steps, because she had less than six weeks before she had to not embarrass herself in public.
I will begin by expressing my gratitude for lending me your copy of Stellar Alchemy: The Secrets Of The Sun. While it is extremely difficult reading, I found it very enlightening. The book is included with this package along with a dozen cookies that I assisted my mother in making as thanks.
Also I am working on practicing the spell you sent at the same time. It's easier, but I still can't keep it up for more than a few minutes. Forcing color changes in objects is really draining. I did manage to cycle through the entire color spectrum twice before my magic gave out, though! Even if it left my oatmeal bright violet.
On a more personal note, I want to extend my congratulations to you. There was an article in the newspaper yesterday about your new relationship with Princess Cadance. You both looked very happy in the picture.
I hope you will introduce me to her when I arrive at the school next autumn. Everypony says that she's very kind and pretty.
I'm pleased that you finished Stellar Alchemy. And of course it was difficult! I wouldn't have assigned it to you if it was easy. You're the smartest six year old I've ever met.
I'm sorry, smartest seven year old. Happy birthday, by the way.
It's easy to forget you're still so young. You're very articulate for your age. It just goes to show you how some ponies will underestimate you just because you're smaller or younger, but we'll overcome that.
I did pass along your congratulations to Cadance, and she's looking forward to meeting you when you arrive. She said she regrets not getting the chance when you were in Canterlot before, but that there will be plenty of time to make up for that later.
For your next assignment, I've included a copy of Starswirl's On the Order and Harmony of Natural and Mystical Matters, which sounds a lot more complicated than it actually is. He wrote it as a primer to teach his students about advanced practical spell mechanics, but he also considered all of his students to be idiots so he wrote it using the smallest and simplest words possible. I figure you're at least as smart at seven as his students were at twenty, so let's see how well you can do with it.
Sincerely, Sunset Shimmer
20 November, 988
Dear Sunset Shimmer;
Thank you for the book, and you were correct. Starswirl's writing is educational, but it isn't nearly as complicated as the book's title sounded. I have completed the first two chapters already, though the exercise show on page 17 is still confusing me. The formula doesn't seem to make sense. Doesn't it violate Haysenberg's second principle?
Beyond that, it has been an acceptable autumn so far. I find myself eagerly looking forward to next year and the start of school rather than focusing on this empty time, but my parents insist that I should enjoy it and my youth while I am able. It seems wasteful, but I admit that I lack their experience with the subject. Did you have similar experiences when you were my age? What sort of things should I do?
Cordially, Moondancer
25 November, 988
Dear Moondancer;
Your instincts are mostly correct. Haysenberg's second principle wouldn't be discovered until six hundred and fifty years later, so Starswirl couldn't have accounted for it. But the interesting part is that it actually does work! The second principle can be overcome by sufficient power: while it states that there is always magic lost in the conversion from raw thams to finished spell-form, Haysenberg was wrong in the scaling. He stated it was an exponential growth rate, but it actually levels off at both ends of the scale. At sufficient magical output, the loss reaches a cap because the surrounding environment can no longer absorb the excess. Essentially you saturate the world around you and reality has no choice but to direct the magic where you want it to go, even if that violates Haysenberg's theories. (This isn't an issue for 99.9% of unicorns because they can't generate that much power, but from personal experience it's still true.) But good eye spotting that inconsistency!
Now, as for what I did when I was your age? That's a little harder to answer. I don't talk about the life I had before becoming Princess Celestia's personal student but it wasn't very normal. After I became her student, I didn't have time to waste on frivolous things. Living up to Princess Celestia's standards is difficult and even now I can't always satisfy her.
I think you should stick to your principles with your parents. You're smart, you know what you want out of life better than they do. It's your life, after all.
If you don't have a choice, I suggest finding somepony else nearby who's being forced to do stuff too. If you work together, you can each pretend to be with the other and then do what ever you want. Being around Cadance has taught me that having somepony to help you can come in handy. You just have to choose carefully who's worth trusting.
Sincerely, Sunset Shimmer
28 November, 988
Dear Sunset Shimmer;
Princess Cadance did that for you? She always seems more restrained in the newspaper interviews.
To clarify: since our conversation, I have been attempting to learn more and follow your actions from afar to better understand the responsibilities and contexts of your role (and mine by extension.) Unfortunately despite being the Princess' personal student, very few newspaper or scholarly articles mention you and you are rarely the focus when they do. Articles about Princess Cadance are much more common, so I have been hoping you would appear in them with her. It isn't as good as getting to know you in pony, but I have to make due with what I have.
I hope that didn't sound creepy. My parents have warned me several times that I can be too aggressive when seeking information and that ponies don't always like it. But they also said I ask too many questions sometimes, so I don't understand how I'm supposed to learn if I don't ask or read.
Did you learn things differently? How does Princess Celestia teach you?
Cordially, Moondancer
4 December, 988
Dear Moondancer;
How Princess Celestia taught me is a good question, but I don't think it would help you. Everypony learns differently because everypony is different. We all have our own strengths and weaknesses and goals. Cadance is a great example of this: I'm teaching her magic, too.
When I give you a lesson, it's about spell construct forms and theory. That's because you're really smart for your age and the second best way for you to get better at magic is to understand the underlying ways that magic works and interacts with the rest of the world. (The best way is through practice, which is why you should still be doing those exercises I told you about in my first letter.)
Cadance, on the other hoof, doesn't learn that. She's an alicorn with an alicorn's strength, so she doesn't need to understand how magic works, she just needs to do it.
It's like you're trying to get through a locked door. You're a ring of keys to open up the lock, and she's a hammer to break the door down. So I have to teach you a different way than her for it to be effective, just like how the way Princess Celestia taught me won't work for you.
Now, as for the rest of your letter: never let anypony tell you that asking questions is bad. The only ponies who don't want you asking questions are the ones trying to hide something.
And also no, Cadance doesn't do that for me. Not exactly. She's too much of a good girl to do that. Instead we sneak off places together when we've got free time. It helps that she's really different than other ponies here in Canterlot and that she's very good at encouraging me to try new things. Yesterday we spent two hours watching the geese fly south. I never would have done that on my own, but she made it fun.
Sincerely, Sunset Shimmer
7 December, 988
Dear Sunset Shimmer;
I really like geese. I read a book about their flight mechanics and it was fascinating! Maybe once I move to Canterlot, you and Princess Cadance can take me with you to watch them.
But for now, you're right. I shouldn't let anypony tell me to stop trying to learn and I need to learn in my own way. I was just hoping that how Princess Celestia taught you would give me some extra insight because she's so smart and you're so smart, so it had to have been very good.
I think sometimes what I need most is help to understand what questions I need to ask. The answers are all out there if I look in the right place, but I don't always know where that is. Libraries are a great help, but there's more books there than I can read in a month. Can you teach me how to find the right questions?
Also, I finished the fifth chapter of Starswirl's book and I don't know if I'm ready to keep going. I know that you said it was for beginners, but there's so much of it that's too advanced for me. The last chapter was really difficult, and the sixth's opening is about transmutation and I just don't understand any of it. I'm sorry.
Cordially, Moondancer
12 December, 988
Dear Moondancer;
First of all, you do not want to learn the way Princess Celestia taught me. She's very smart but she's a terrible teacher.
Second, don't feel bad about having trouble with Starswirl's book. I gave it to you specifically because I wanted to see how far you could get before you failed. I may have said it was simplified, but no matter how smart you are you're still a beginner. Now I know where you're at and where I should start when you get to school next year. Just remember that you're really young, Moondancer, and there's nothing wrong with having a hard time. You aren't dumb, you're just inexperienced. That can be fixed.
And asking how to ask the right questions is an excellent first step. I don't think I can summarize it, though. Figuring out what to ask to learn what you're after isn't a lesson, it's a major part of a proper education in general. Teachers will have a lot of lectures about telling you what things are, but the good ones will try to teach you why they are instead. I guess that's the best advice I can give you: always dig deeper. The answer you get is never the last answer, and you should always be asking a follow-up question. Even if it seems dumb, ask anyway because you never know. Even a silly answer can open up unexpected doors.
Sincerely, Sunset Shimmer
15 December, 988
Dear Sunset Shimmer;
Okay, I understand. So because you said to dig deeper, why is Princess Celestia a bad teacher? Maybe if you can tell me why she's bad, I can learn what not to do as a student. (That makes sense, I think?) Or maybe you could tell me more about yourself as a student so I understand how to approach my education better.
I guess really I just want to know more about you. Because I live all the way out in Vanhoover, there isn't a lot of information about you. All I really know is that you're the Princess' personal student and that you're very smart and very powerful. If I'm going to be your student, I want to know as much as I can about my teacher. If I know that, I can learn how to grow up to be just like you.
Also I'm still trying the exercises in the sixth chapter even if I don't understand all of it. Maybe by the time I get to school, I'll be on the seventh chapter!
Cordially, Moondancer
20 December, 988
Dear Moondancer;
Okay, for starters do not continue with those exercises. I know you want to learn more, but casting spells you don't understand is extremely dangerous. You should never try casting spells that you aren't prepared for because all kinds of things can go wrong. When you get here, I promise I'll help you learn but for now please be careful. I don't want you to get hurt, my student.
Now, as for why Princess Celestia is a bad teacher? That's a harder question to fit into a letter. Probably her biggest problem is that she regularly refuses to help because she wants you to learn things for yourself. She stays hooves-off while you stumble around blindly until you figure out her lesson, and then she smiles and says she knew you could do it. That's not teaching, it's taking credit for somepony else's work.
And when you ask her why something is the way it is, she never gives you a straight answer. She just smiles and tells you something empty like "That is a story for another day" or "You are not yet ready." Trust me, you don't want to learn that way. I've basically had to teach myself for the last few years.
I'm sorry if that hurts how you see the Princess, but it's the truth.
Sincerely, Sunset Shimmer
23 December, 988
Dear Sunset Shimmer;
I understand on both points. I'll stop practicing without supervision because you're right. It probably is a little dangerous and I'll have plenty of time to learn once I get there. But I'm still going to keep reading and try to understand the book in the meantime. Reading can't be dangerous, after all.
And I see what you mean about Princess Celestia not being a good teacher. I don't think I could learn like that, even with all the books in the library. It says a lot about how smart you are that you succeeded!
But that goes back to my other question in the last letter. I really want to know more about you. Knowing about Sunset Shimmer would really help me learn, like how knowing the name of a food can help you guess what ingredients are in it. (I have to ask that a lot because I'm allergic to nuts and they're in a lot of things you wouldn't expect. I also ask about cabbage but that's not because I'm allergic, I just don't like it.)
I want to learn more and if I can't learn more from the book you gave me, I'd like to learn about you.
Sunset set aside the letter - she'd answer Moondancer later. Deciding just what she wanted to share with her student would be a difficult choice and she had to consider carefully how much to say and about what. The filly was at least inquisitive, so that was good. And bad, since giving her a mystery to solve was likely to lead to more questions that could be problematic to answer.
But those were irrelevant for today. It was Hearth's Warming and Sunset had other things on her mind. The night before had been the traditional pageant, watched from the Royal Box. A formal event as always, staunchly attended even as the same boring play as every year put Sunset to sleep.
Today, though? Today was different. It was Hearth's Warming Day itself, and one of the few cases of Princess Celestia letting her mane down.
This was, of course, an extremely relative term. Celestia's 'relaxed' meant not putting on any regalia. Maybe having a drop of peppermint schnapps in her tea. That sort of thing.
But for just the day, the Princess stayed inside, had no appointments, and pretended she was normal. Sunset always spent the day in barely restrained laughter because she was so bad at it. Celestia was awkward like a newborn deer trying to walk - she understood the steps but had no competency in making her hooves go in the right places.
Still, she tried and this year harder than any other because this year she had a new pony in the Palace. They both knew how homesick Cadance was, as well. She was desperate for normalcy again, and the ponies that cared for her were eager to provide it.
Which led to Sunset's current course: the lesser dinette. The name was very much a noble euphemism, implying a great many things that belittled what it was. While it was indeed of far smaller scale than any of the Castle's many grand dining rooms, it was still twice the size of Sunset's own bedroom. Directly attached to Princess Celestia's quarters, it was meant for her exclusive use (as opposed to the formal dinette, which was further out and intended for meals taken in a more personal setting with foreign diplomats or councilponies.) As such it was outfitted to the Princess' personal tastes: pristine white panel walls with gilt highlights, a beautiful chandelier that was seasonally decorated with multi-hued crystals, a low-slung table, and an array of plush cushions perfect for an extra-large alicorn to lounge on. In short, it was what somepony obscenely wealthy and privileged like a Princess would consider low-key.
Today it sported a few extra touches as well: a golden garland framing the door; knit yarn snowflakes hanging from the chandler; sprigs of holly and mistletoe scattered around the room; and a little white Hearth's Warming doll on the windowsill. Normally this was part of Celestia's personal sanctum and off-limits to any pony else, but today the rules were somewhat relaxed. Even Celestia's aloof attitudes had to admit a holiday brunch felt wrong to eat alone.
Only the three of them were in attendance: Celestia, Cadance, and Sunset. Prior years had occasionally included Blueblood (much to Sunset's displeasure) but as he had grown up, he had opted to spend it elsewhere - almost certainly hobnobbing among his fellow nobles (and this year trying to avoid spending time around the happy couple.)
And happy they were. Sunset arrived at the dinette to find Cadance wearing a fluffy bathrobe - the same baby blue as her magic and obviously brand new. It thematically matched Sunset's own, though hers was in teal and a few years older. (Both, of course, had been gifts from the same source.) The Princess herself was lounged out at the table, wearing nothing and with her mane tied up in a tight bun.
"Enjoy sleeping in, Sunset?" There was the hint of a playful smile on Celestia's lips as she asked - she already knew the answer. Being able to sleep in was a luxury in the Palace, and not starting at dawn had traditionally been one of Celestia's holiday gifts to her student.
Sunset nodded slightly, slipping into her seat and immediately grabbing for the coffee. Two sugars and one cream, then a sip - and she felt that first hit of warmth. It was the ritual of the morning routine just as much as the caffeine that brought her brain up to speed. "I did," she finally replied. "Slept in about an hour, then got a few little things done before I came over."
Quietly chuckling, Celestia shook her head. "Even on a day off, you continue to work my brilliant student."
"Well I slept until twenty minutes ago," Cadance cheerfully noted as she filled her own mug with coffee.
Celestia mock-gasped. "Cadance! You're betraying me too?"
The pink alicorn froze - but Sunset just rolled her eyes. "Don't mind her. I, for one, welcome a fellow coffee drinker in the mornings. Tea just isn't enough."
Harumphing, Celestia turned up her nose at them. "I will never understand your loyalty to that foul, heretic brew."
The stand-off continued for several seconds before all three of them started laughing - Cadance's a bit delayed.
The laughter transitioned to a fairly subdued brunch: pancakes, haybacon, eggs (choice of scrambled or hard-boiled), and a platter of various fresh fruits. The food was... acceptable. It always was on Hearth's Warming Day. The kitchen staff had the day off, so everything had been made the night before. They managed to work some magic to keep it warm and fresh, but the quality was pointedly sub-standard. Still, they cared enough to make cute faces in berries on the pancakes and that little touch went a long way.
Conversation over brunch was just what Sunset had expected, as well: laughably awkward. Princess Celestia kept trying to make small talk, but it fell flat every time. It was all noble gossip, 'candid' opinions about current legislation, and anecdotes about ponies who died generations ago that Sunset had heard seventy times before. It was the talk of a mare who had no life outside her job.
Things peaked with an old story about the favorite drinking songs of a minotaur ambassador from two hundred years earlier - which was met by the sound of chewing and silence. Celestia smiled broadly, waiting for the other two to laugh and give her permission to as well. They didn't - Sunset just quietly smirked at the graceless tension while Cadance shifted uneasily.
Princess Celestia attempted to push past the silence with another awkwardness, launching into a bit of gossip. "Anyway! So I was speaking with the Baroness of MacIntosh Hills two days ago--"
Unable to take any more, Cadance stepped in. "Auntie? If you don't mind, maybe it's time for something else?" Her eyes pleaded, even as she tried to sound diplomatic.
It was a blatant change of topic, but the Princess was taken with it. "Oh! Yes!" She clapped her hooves joyfully. "Can't forget the presents. It wouldn't be Hearth's Warming without those, right?" She laughed, merriment dancing in her eyes.
And before either of the others could move, Celestia's horn lit and grabbed several boxes from under a side table. They bobbed in the air before her casually - and the first floated towards Cadance. "I know I already gave you your first gift with the bathrobe, but this one's too important to put off any longer!"
Across the table, Sunset's eyebrows spiked at just how giddy Celestia's tone was. The elder alicorn sounded like she would be prancing circles with excitement had she not been seated.
Sensing that, Cadance didn't hesitate to open the candy cane striped box. ('Opened' was something Sunset found instantly frustrated her, as Cadance carefully undid the silver ribbon and unfolded the red and white paper rather than tearing into it like a proper pony.) Inside was a tiny doll, made from pink fleece and barely larger than Sunset's hoof. While a bit lopsided, the horn and wings made clear who it was of, and the purple chips of crystal for the eyes sparkled with a familiar vibrancy.
Princess Celestia beamed with pride. "I noticed you didn't have a Hearth's Warming doll in your personal effects when you arrived, so I thought it would be useful."
Her response was a squeal of excitement. "Oh, it's beautiful!" Cadance held the doll up higher to the light to get a better look - then after a moment of inspection, beamed at Celestia. "You're right, I left my old one at home. I was actually feeling sad about not having one and--" She interrupted herself to squirm with delight. On her hooves in a heartbeat, she pranced over to the windowsill and... stopped. "Wait, Sunset, where's yours?"
And it was a logical question, as only Princess Celestia's doll was there. Fortunately, Sunset was quick to explain. "Mine's out front in the public display, right next to Princess Celestia's charity doll."
Which only raised further questions. Celestia was quick to step in and give the longer story. "There is a display set up in the public foyer of the Castle with dolls in it that represent every resident, staffer, and guard. You likely have not seen it as you use other entrances. Sunset's Hearth's Warming doll is there, as is one of mine. It's a bit of a tradition," she continued with false bashfulness. "Every year I receive two or three dozen dolls for Hearth's Warming, mostly from young colts and fillies. I choose one and place it as my doll for the public display - and it is later auctioned off at the New Year's Gala to benefit a charity of the dollmaker's choosing." And then before Cadance could say anything further, Celestia added a quick addendum. "I am certain that by next year you will have your own donations that we can approach similarly."
Celestia's doll that was in the dinette lifted in golden magic. "I use this one for my personal celebrations. It's a bit old, but it's meaningful to me." Old was an understatement. The raw number of preservation enchantments on it made Sunset's horn itch from three body-lengths away. Beyond that it didn't seem like anything special: made from off-white linen, it was adequately but amateurishly stitched and relatively plain for a Princess' representation. The mane didn't even have Celestia's tricolor, merely being a pale pink. But it was important to the Princess and even Sunset had enough taste to not make a fuss over the cheapness of it.
The explanation satisfied Cadance and she placed her doll beside Celestia's. Which is when the elder Princess turned her gaze to Sunset. "Now while I wished to get that handled first, don't think I have forgotten about you, Sunset Shimmer." A second box levitated up: small, wrapped in yellow and red paper, topped with an almost stereotypical orange bow.
Sunset tore the paper away and opened the box to find a single business card atop a nest of white ribbons. "Uh..."
An oh-so-familiar smile came to Princess Celestia's lips - knowing and pleased with herself. "When you began your relationship with Cadance, I tried to be helpful. But I also understand that I might not have come across as supportive and that you might have seen my actions as disapproving." She pointed at the card with her hoof. "This is to clarify things for you both. I have commissioned a dress for you to wear at the New Year's Gala with her. You merely need to go and have any final adjustments made before it is ready."
Conflict warred in Sunset's heart. On one hoof, it was a present soiled by Celestia's cowardice in suggesting Sunset hide the relationship, and a nakedly pathetic one at that. Apologies only existed when you had wronged somepony. On the other... approval. And more than simply empty words - it was Celestia giving proof of her blessing. Nobility gossiped and so did those around them. Just who had commissioned the dress would be public knowledge almost immediately and that would communicate intent far stronger than any speech.
And damn the rest of the world. Deep down, Sunset Shimmer knew just how much the Princess' favor meant to her. Tainted or no, it was still approval.
So she bowed her head. "Thank you. I--"
And she got no further before the Princess magically pulled her into a hug. "I want you to be happy, my brilliant student. Even if we don't always agree, I want you to be happy."
While there was hesitation? For the first time in a long time, Sunset hugged Celestia back and meant it.
They broke apart not long after - each giving the other a small smile as they did so. But Sunset had an important task ahead. "Cadance?" Her magic reached across the Castle, and a plain blue-wrapped package teleported into existence. "I got this for you."
With a grin of her own, Cadance reached a wing under the table and lifted up one of her own: a wide, flat box wrapped in green. "What a coincidence, I got--"
Sunset loudly cleared her throat.
Cadance bit her lip in embarrassment as she transferred the gift from her wing to her magic.
"Better," Sunset corrected. It was always time for a lesson.
Then they both set to their respective presents.
Sunset got hers unwrapped first, revealing a broad box of polished walnut. She cracked the lid and quietly gasped. Inside it was a treasure trove: charcoal sticks, waxy pastels, sealed ink pots, and at the center of it all? A brace of paintbrushes - black lacquered wood tipped by reddish bristles. Sunset's magic touched one and instantly there was feedback. She almost dropped it as the brush tingled, like an electrical current rippling along her horn.
"Kitsune hair," Princess Celestia half-whispered from across the table, a conspiratorial smile fresh on her lips. "They're inherently charged with magic to stay clean, so they're easy to wash and keep tidy."
The thrill in Sunset's heart instantly died. She knew that tone of voice - it wasn't Celestia being informative. It was Celestia dropping a hint that she had helped with the gift; and thus that she was partially responsible. It was her taking credit and that ruined it.
But even as her anger started to burn, Cadance's cheerful laugh threw water over it. Both of them turned to the pink alicorn as she turned the tiny gold-set chips of blue crystal over in her hoof. "Oh, they're darling!"
Pride overwhelmed Sunset's anger and she diverted to inch over to Cadance's side. "They're not just pretty earrings," she smugly noted. "You liked the little radio spell I used a few weeks ago so much, I enchanted these to do the same thing. So now you can listen any time you want!" She paused for drama's sake. "But the enchantment will only last a few months so you're going to have to learn from me how to refresh them," she added with a playful wink.
Cadance giggled again and winked right back. Then she hugged the unicorn. "Thank you, Sunset, I love it. Now I just need to get my ears pierced so I can wear them!"
Sunset's brain screeched to a halt.
Princess Celestia, on the other hoof, merely laughed. "We should probably do that anyway, Cadance. Now you have a good reason to do it sooner rather than later."
Cheeks flush with embarrassment at not checking something so basic, Sunset tried to recover. "Thank you for the art supplies, Cadance. There's a lot in there and I'm sure I'll get a lot of use out of them."
"And there's several new mediums, too!" Cadance's chipper cheer didn't care one whit for the near-fight that had happened between Sunset and Celestia, nor for Sunset's minor misstep with the gift. "You're getting so good with paint and I'm really eager to see what you can do with charcoal or clay." Her head twisted to look at the Princess. "And speaking of being eager..."
Both Celestia and Sunset paused in confusion.
And Cadance pulled another package out. "Happy Hearth's Warming, Auntie."
The other two continued to stare.
Awkward seconds passed.
"Cadance, uh. We don't..." Sunset stumbled both mentally and verbally at the faux pas. "Princess Celestia doesn't get presents. She always said not to."
A deep frown marred Cadance's face and she gave Celestia a look full of sadness and pity.
Princess Celestia coughed quietly into her hoof. "That's... mostly accurate," she hedged. "I understand how difficult it must be to find a gift for a millennia-old alicorn, and I'm reminded of that daily as I'm barraged by gifts from those attempting to buy my favor. I never wanted those closest to me to worry about finding the right gift for a pony who fairly literally has everything. It... wasn't appropriate."
Cadance huffed loudly and thrust the box out. "Well I don't care about that. It's Hearth's Warming and you deserve to get a gift. So I'm giving you one." Her tone would brook no argument.
For just a moment, Celestia looked like she was going to refuse - but Cadance's determination cowed her and she took the small red-wrapped box. The paper less tore and more gently disintegrated to reveal a black velvet jewelry box - and within it? An inconsequentially small medallion shaped like a waxing crescent moon.
Princess Celestia stared at the tiny bit of sterling silver - smaller than a bit coin - wordlessly.
"Everypony talks about how you raise and lower the sun all the time," Cadance explained, "And there's sun imagery everywhere. But you raise and lower the moon, too, and nopony seems to remember that. So I thought it was only right to recognize that."
Princess Celestia stared at the little moon.
"I mean... you're not just the sun." Cadance's explanation was slower now, more hesitant.
There were several seconds of silence before Sunset was able to identify the weird, unfamiliar sound of a sniffle.
And there was just the hint of wetness around Celestia's eyes as her broad wings grabbed Cadance in a hug. "Thank you." The words were quiet - subdued and lonely in a way so unlike the Princess.
Cadance hugged Celestia back. "You're welcome." Her words were falteringly unsure and aching from lack of context, but they were still full of care.
Princess Celestia had accepted the gift where she had always told Sunset not to give her one. And even more so, the gift had brought her to subtle tears. Cadance had won Celestia's approval.
Envy tore through Sunset's heart.
She vanished from the room in a flash of teleportation.
Re-appearing in her room, Sunset's magic lashed out wildly. Books were thrown, papers were overturned, her bed tossed - all in a chaotic search for something she could do to win.
One corner of her room had been repurposed - the books removed to create space for her growing pile of art. Her magic turned to that next, throwing one painting after another off the pile as she searched. At the very bottom was her first work: the canvas painted half with her cutie mark and half with Princess Celestia's. By Sunset's current standards it was rough - almost unacceptably so. She could see a dozen places where her first clumsy brushstrokes made her think more of butchery than art. But it was something. It was meaningful.
It - and she - tore across the Palace in a bolt of magic that bent the very essence of space to her will.
In retrospect, Sunset realized she should have said something before teleporting away. Both alicorns were visibly on in panic mode, eyes full of worry and fear. They stopped mid-conversation at Sunset's reappearance, with a trailing word or two hinting at summoning the Guard to search.
Sunset's reappearance didn't entirely ease their minds, either. The fact that she was out of breath and sweaty was enough to concern both. The returning teleportation drove Celestia's ears flat to her skull, expression halfway between relief and anger.
"Sunset, are you alright?" Cadance took a step closer. And was ignored.
Sunset tried to be nonchalant. She really, really did. But in later reflection Sunset would come to realize she probably looked like a lunatic as she held out the canvas like a shield, teal magic clashing with the hot reds and yellows of the paint.
Her manic gaze was locked right on the Princess. "You never wanted a gift before, Princess Celestia. But if you'll take it, I want to give you one."
Celestia looked between Sunset and the canvas with concern before taking the offered gift in her magic - teal transitioning to gold. Holding it up, the Princess looked the art over with still worried eyes.
Recognizing it, Cadance jumped in to try and help. "That's actually the very first thing Sunset painted."
The Princess smiled.
"It's wonderful, Sunset. I really like how you managed to merge our cutie marks so smoothly. It's quite beautiful, particularly considering it was your first."
And she set it down on the table before hugging her student.
No tears hinting at the corners of her eyes. No hushed tones barely holding back emotion. It was truthful thanks, but the reaction didn't compare to how Celestia had reacted to Cadance's gift.
And while the praise warmed Sunset's heart, she knew she lost. That it was to Cadance was a little comfort but she still couldn't shake that little green-eyed gremlin in the back of her head that told her she had been beaten.
It wasn't for the first time, the spike of jealousy reminded her. After all, one of them was an alicorn and the other wasn't.
Princess Celestia pulled away, but there was still a wing across Sunset's withers. Cadance had inserted herself into the hug at some point and remained there - still embracing Sunset. Trying to hide the sourness, the unicorn hugged her marefriend back.
The smell of a warm spring day tickled Sunset's nose and her eyes flicked up. Celestia's glittering magic was over the pair of them, holding a few bits of greenery. For Sunset, it was a moment of confusion. For Cadance, however...
The Princess of Love squealed with delight before looking at Sunset.
The Unicorn of Ambition's brow wrinkled in confusion.
Both alicorns looked to the other and smiled the same knowing smile before Cadance finally explained. "That little white berry is mistletoe."
Sunset's eyes widened as the realization hit her in the same moment the indecision did.
That touch of panic made Cadance hesitate, ears drooping. "Sunset, if you don't--"
The chance to back out was enough to bolster Sunset's confidence.
Sunset Shimmer was a genius. In terms of the Equestrian population, she was the top 0.01% at worst. Brilliant almost beyond words, she excelled in every area she had ever bothered to try her hoof at. Magic, science, mathematics, history, politics, art - she stood a head above the rest any time she put effort into her actions.
But she needed time, literature, and practice to get that far. Kissing - well, she didn't have any of that.
Sunset missed her target, half kissing Cadance's lips and half her cheek. The entire motion was exaggerated and clumsy, very obviously performed by a pony who had never even given a chaste kiss to a family member before. It was, in the grand scheme of things, exactly what you would expect for a first kiss by a total novice with no preparation.
Seamlessly, Cadance adjusted. She brought her lips full to Sunset's and used her wing to pull the unicorn's body close. It was still artless and awkward, but the two mares shared that first kiss in a memory that would stick for their entire lives. Neither rushed to end it, either.
And while Sunset didn't see it, Princess Celestia's eyes did tear up a little at seeing her two little ponies find a little more happiness for the holiday.
In many ways, Canterlot noble society revolved around galas. There were plenty of parties throughout the year, but only once per season was there a true gala at the Palace. The Princess held to that quite firmly: no more, no less. More would overwhelm the social schedule, eating up her time and reducing the impact of the larger events; fewer would lead to the nobles having their own seasonal headliners that would draw away from the royal influence.
(Princess Celestia insisted that wasn't the reason, of course, but Sunset knew to read between the lines.)
The winter one was the New Year's Gala, taking place through the last night of the year. It had started centuries ago - much of the noble class would find excuses to be at the Palace, clambering to be the first one to wish the Princess a happy new year. In time, she simply made it a party they could attend rather than competing to infiltrate her chambers at 12:01am.
And Sunset was thankful that party was inside the castle. The dead of winter redefined 'chilly' and she had no desire to go traipsing about it in anything less than a parka.
What she had on was far more beautiful but also far less warm.
Princess Celestia's gift was as good as implied: the dress had been prepared and just needed some last minute adjustments to fit. The designer - a recent breakout fashionista by the name of Hoity Toity - had been quick and produced an excellent piece of work. (Sunset knew she was no expert in high fashion, but she did know what made her look good.)
Another designer would probably have played it safe and composed the dress in hot reds and yellows and oranges - logical for Sunset's coat and mane. Toity had taken the daring approach, however. He'd leaned heavily into black, using it as a dark background that drew attention to Sunset's vibrant colors. Snug night-black satin hugged her upper body before swooping back to a long, loose drape that cascaded off her flank like an inky wave. It held only small adornments: small irregular beads of gold around the hems and folds. To the observer it would almost appear Sunset was dripping golden wax, melted by the bright burning candle of her fiery mane and tail. (He had also gone with flats rather than heels, which Sunset was immensely thankful for.)
The effect was striking enough that it froze Cadance mid-step as she was coming out of her rooms.
In turn, Sunset struck a little pose for her with a hoof coquettishly raised, a playful wink to her marefriend, and just a bit of flank-wiggle that wasn't strictly necessary.
Cadance recovered quickly enough, closing the gap to give Sunset a nuzzle. She had to be careful about it though as the tiara on her head discouraged a lot of movement. It was matched to the rest of her outfit: a high-collared steel gray damask dress with a baby blue sash around the back, all highlighted by golden jewelry. The necklace was obviously intended to be part of the tiara's set - gold with deep purple amethysts. But the earrings? Those were the little crystal chips Sunset had given her for Hearth's Warming.
A little warmth welled up in Sunset's chest at that.
"Ready?" Sunset offered her hoof - and Cadance took it.
"Ready." She tried to sound confident and assured, but Sunset could hear the undercurrent of worry. It was the first Gala that Cadance would be attending, having not yet been ready for overwhelming nature of the autumn's event. Now she was going to plunge head first into the nobility's snake pit. But at least now she wouldn't be doing it alone.
The two took their time crossing the Palace's halls - winding through the intricate maze of back passages, exchanging greetings with servant and guard as they went. It took a leisurely ten minutes to reach their destination: the Chancellor Ballroom. (Technically the Chancellor Puddinghead Memorial Funotorium And Dancepalooza, but nopony actually called it that.)
Bypassing the main doors, they went directly to one of the many guards floating around the perimeter of the party. Taking lead, Sunset gave him her best copy of Princess Celestia's commanding look. "Princess Cadance and I need to head inside."
The look worked. (Or more likely he recognized them.) The guard nodded and escorted the pair quickly around to the ballroom's main entrance, bypassing the long line of nobles waiting to have their tickets and coats checked. Kibitz - acting as Master of Ceremonies for the event and looking like he'd grown his mustache out even more for the occasion - cleared his throat before announcing them to the room.
"NOW ENTERING," he boomed with a little magical help, "HER SERENE HIGHNESS, PRINCESS MI AMORE CADENZA AND HER COMPANION SUNSET SHIMMER, PERSONAL STUDENT OF HER ROYAL HIGHNESS PRINCESS CELESTIA."
Being announced second and with her only title being that of 'student' chafed Sunset a little, but she held the frustration down. That was fine for today. No need to get ahead of herself.
Passing through the golden doors side by side, the pair entered the ballroom proper. For Sunset, it was well-trotted territory. But Cadance was instantly awed - and who could blame her? As the main ballroom of the Palace, 'impressive' was where the descriptors merely started.
White and gray marble checkered the floor, broken up by a plush red velvet carpet. Said carpet guided guests first to a short stairway, on the landing of which was Princess Celestia herself, poised to receive and greet each new guest. From there, it led to the upper and main part of the room: an expanse large enough that Sunset suspected Cadance's entire quaint little home village could fit inside. The north wall was broken up by the band's raised platform on the left, flanked by fluted marble columns. On the right side of the north sat the evening's refreshments: currently concealed behind the crowd, but Sunset had no reason to doubt it was anything less than perfection. The east and west walls were lined by deep purple drapes that hung around stained glass windows and centuries-old tapestries - alternating between and giving the entire room a darker feel in spite of the many crystal chandeliers overhead. Tables were dotted around the edges of the room, leaving the center open for ponies to mill about. And, of course, there was a large space near the band that was set aside as a dance floor.
But before any of that could matter, there was Princess Celestia. In full regalia, she was all smiles as the pair approached. They bowed to her; and she to them in turn.
"Princess Cadance. Sunset Shimmer. It is a pleasure to see you both here tonight."
"Thank you for inviting us, Princess Celestia." Sunset spoke the words with strict formality, as ritual and tradition dictated it must be. That she spoke instead of the higher-ranked Cadance was a faux pas, but the young alicorn didn't have the experience to take the lead yet. "We are honored that you allow us to bless the new year beside you. Are we permitted to enter your home?"
A devil's smile played across Celestia's face. "Absolutely not." And before Sunset could do more than gawk in surprise, Celestia grabbed them both up in a wing-hug. "Not until I greet you properly! I'm so happy to see you both."
While Sunset floundered, Cadance laughed. "Auntie, it's only been two hours!"
"Yes, but two hours of this." Celestia laughed heartily, drawing a few looks from nearby nobles not in on the joke. "You will understand in time, my niece. I'm letting you have fun for now but next year you'll be greeting them all right here beside me." Rose eyes winked, suggesting a bit of humor in the obvious threat.
Cadance balked, freezing up for a second.
Which made Celestia laugh all the more. "That's next year. For now, both of you? Enjoy yourselves. Be young. Have a good evening together. I expect to hear laughter!"
It felt like a trap. Sunset's gut said it had to be. But Celestia's instructions were what she was planning on doing anyway, so she bowed to the Princess again and hid her concern.
Cadance, on the other hoof, gave her elder a wink and a grin. "We will, but keep in mind what I threatened you with next year."
Celestia's perfect smile faltered just a little - and the pair departed with an amused laugh that they shared for different reasons.
A few steps away, Sunset asked the obvious question. "So what's the threat?"
Smile sparkling, Cadance's steps bounced with delight. "Next year, she owes me a dance."
The image of The Sun Incarnate attempting to awkwardly dance (in the same way Sunset had seen herself in the mirror as she practiced) broadened the unicorn's grin. A little public humbling was just what the doctor ordered, and Sunset had one more thing to look forward to in the new year. There was no way she would miss Princess Celestia wobbling around like a drunken swan.
But her joy was a bit premature, because Cadance gave her a look. "This year," she noted, "I'm focusing on you."
Memories of Cadance's sing-song statement a month and a half earlier made Sunset's heart freeze. "Oh." Her eyes darted around the ballroom, a bubble of performance anxiety sitting hard in her gut as she felt all her preparations dissolve into the ether. "Say, you want something to drink? We've got hours, so I figure we can start slow. Chill out and get a feel for the party before we jump in."
Sharkishly smiling, Cadance threw a wing across Sunset's withers to prevent her escape. "No no no. You promised me a dance and I'm not giving you any opportunity to slip out of it."
"I never promised anything! You said you were going to force me to dance with you!"
"And you didn't object," Cadance pointed out. She paused, both in words and her steps in dragging Sunset towards the dance floor. "Are you objecting?"
She had that tone - questioning and just slightly hurt. It was a knife to the gut, and Sunset sighed with resignation. "No. I... I do want to dance with you." She hesitated this time before adding, "I just don't think I prepared enough."
Her doubt was pushed back by a roll of Cadance's eyes. "You had more than a month of studying, four different lessons with me, and I know you practiced on your own." Their hips bumped. "The mighty Sunset Shimmer just has cold hooves."
That did it. It was a weak provocation and probably not even intended as one, but the little taunt sparked a new fire in Sunset. Locking her eyes on the dance floor, she set her jaw and turned towards destiny.
Destiny was ready for her. Or at least Cadance was: as they approached the dance floor, she waved a wing towards the band. It had to have been a pre-rehearsed signal as the string quartet finished their current song several measures early.
After a brief pause, they struck up a tune that Sunset recognized: The Pearlfisher's Tango from classical hippogriffian opera. They had practiced to it twice after Cadance had deemed Sunset ready to progress beyond a basic waltz. It was a more complicated dance - but it was also one that put them far closer together. A statement, and Sunset approved of that.
They both went up to their rear hooves, pressing barrel to barrel to begin the first steps. All around, other pairs on the dance floor did the same - but they all also kept their distance from the royal couple. It was an unspoken agreement to give space and not disturb the moment.
Cadance took the lead. A part of Sunset objected to the idea of somepony else being in charge, but the rest was quite firm in (for once) knowing her limitations. One of them knew how to dance and the other was a total novice. As much as Sunset boasted how she didn't care what any of the nobility thought of her, there was a world of difference between being aloof and making stupid beginner mistakes while hundreds of ponies watched your every move.
So she reluctantly followed her marefriend and counted the steps in her head. Slow-slow-quick-quick-slow. Slow-slow-quick-quick-slow. Stay close together, barrel to barrel with Cadance. Slow-slow-quick-quick-slow. Let her control the turns, stay steady with the music.
Cadance nudged Sunset's cheek with her chin. "Hey. Relax." Her answer was a non-committal grumble. "Relax," repeated the alicorn as they danced. "I wanted this to be fun, not a job. You don't have to be so serious."
All around them, other pairs continued their dances with grace - a flourish here, a turn there - while Sunset was barely still upright. Another pony might point out the romance of how she and Cadance were leaning into one another because of the stance, supporting each other through the steps. But every critical eye was reviewing her movements, and Sunset knew she was lacking. "Sorry," was all she could say to Cadance.
Their voices were at a murmur, audible when they were so close to each other but disappearing under the music for everypony else. Anypony watching, though, would be able to see how Cadance's face fell. "No, I'm sorry. I thought you'd enjoy this." She perked up a little. "Maybe we could try a different kind of dancing? I bet I could talk Princess Celestia into letting us go to a club and that might be better."
Sunset shook her head a little. "No, it's okay. This had to happen sooner or later, I'm just being thin-skinned." Slow-slow-quick-quick-slow. "If it wasn't the New Year's Gala, it would be the Spring Ball."
"Just ignore them and have fun," Cadance advised quietly. "They don't matter right now."
It was easier said than done, but the little voice in the back of Sunset's head reminded her that Cadance was right. She was being watched, but they didn't matter. Not one of them. After all, she was Sunset Shimmer, Ascendant. Princess-To-Be. She had won. This was a demonstration of how Cadance had fallen for her, and now it was just a matter of finding the right opportunity to press about how Cadance had gained her horn.
This wasn't a dance; it was a victory lap.
That little voice grew louder.
So what if Sunset missed a step? So what if she had less than perfect grace? She would be a Princess within six months - three if the path wasn't too complicated. Then she would sit in a throne beside Cadance and nopony would dare judge her.
Sunset's hooves lightened and she fell into the slow-slow-quick-quick-slow with ease. The steps were natural and if she made a mistake she didn't care. So what if the perfect Sunset Shimmer took the wrong step or was out of rhythm? They couldn't do anything to her any more. Even Princess Celestia would have no choice but to acknowledge Sunset - it was all over but the paperwork.
Laughing, Sunset spun around - taking the lead away from Cadance in a flagrant faux pas. But Cadance laughed with her, caring as little as Sunset did for the way the nobles looked at them or the formal structure of the dance.
They shared the joy of the moment, even if Cadance had a different reason than Sunset.
Even when the song ended, they danced on. The band transitioned to something similar, struggling to keep to what the Princess was dancing. It wasn't a song Sunset knew, but it didn't matter. They were together, they were happy, and life was finally, finally right.
It was three songs later that they finally came to the end of their dance. It was punctuated with a kiss - hard, deep, overwhelming - before they separated a step and bowed to one another. Several members of their audience applauded, but neither mare cared. This was a moment for their own happiness, nopony else's.
As they trotted off the dance floor, however, each had their own way to express that happiness. Cadance's was high-stepping, cantering with joy. It was impossible to mistake how pleased she was with the evening so far. Sunset, meanwhile, was practically slinking. Smugness dripped off her every movement, and none could missed how pleased she was with herself.
The crowd gave them some distance - respectful, and likely enforced by the plain-clothed guards that Sunset was certain were mixed throughout the party-goers. It was enough space to allow Cadance's wing to lay across Sunset's back. "Thank you," said the pink princess quietly. "I know that wasn't something you wanted to do, so thank you for indulging me."
A shrug. Sunset managed a little smirk. "Like I said. It had to happen sooner or later. Why would I say no?" She nudged Cadance, steering them towards one of the tables on the edge of the room. "We're supposed to support each other, right?"
"Right," Cadance agreed. "Which means next time you're leading," she added with a wink.
Part of Sunset trembled at that - but the rest pushed it down with the reminder that She Had Won. She could almost feel her not-yet-real wings flexing. "Bring it on."
They laughed and nuzzled as they angled towards an empty table - and were intercepted. Spearhead - in proper uniform - held up a hoof. "Your Highness, we already have a place set up for you over here."
Cadance's face scrunched up. "What?"
"Princess Celestia's orders," elaborated the guard before pointing to a different table. This one was further from the dance floor and already had one occupant: an older donkey wearing a ridiculously bad hairpiece. "She wanted you to meet an old companion of hers, and said she would join the three of you once the receiving line was complete."
Both mares looked at each other and wore the same expression: one of vaguely amused annoyance mixed with resignation. They didn't really care what table they were at, but leave it to Princess Celestia to control all the little details. Fighting against whatever she was doing was a waste of time and effort.
Sunset leaned in to give Cadance a kiss on the cheek. "You go set up at the table. I'll get us something to drink, okay? You want anything in particular?"
Cadance shook her head with a soft smile. "Surprise me. I'll go and introduce myself to Auntie's friend. I'm sure she has a reason why we should meet him."
"He's an adventurer," Spearhead volunteered. "The Princess said he'd been on a quest, and for part of it he spent time off the Florintine coast."
The mention of her homeland lit Cadance's eyes up with joy.
To which Sunset chuckled. "Go on. I'll grab you something fruity and bright pink."
Cadance batted her marefriend with a wing, then followed Spearhead towards the donkey.
Sunset, meanwhile, turned back the other way. Skirting around the dance floor - which had resumed into a more traditional waltz - she meandered towards the big knot of ponies around the bar. Even at her youngest, Sunset had learned it was always the most crowded point in a party: everypony wanted a drink, and so it became a nexus for conversations, meetings, and finding an excuse for a second (or third or fourth) drink.
True to form, it was a mess of high society ponies chattering over whatever wine or other poison was their preference. Sunset spotted a number of familiar faces from court - including Blueblood. She was careful to pass through the crowd on the opposite edge from him, hopefully avoiding a dumb confrontation that would do nothing but sour her mood.
Instead, she got to have her mood soured by waiting. There would never be enough staff for a Royal Gala, and waiting in line for a drink was inevitable. It still annoyed her, of course, but there was no avoiding it. All Sunset could do was wait and block out the annoying buzz of drunken nobility.
Somewhere in the crowd, somepony laughed. The sound bored into Sunset's ears despite her attempts to ignore everypony around her, and at first she couldn't peg why. There were dozens of ponies laughing, but that one--
That one was familiar.
She frowned sharply.
It was very familiar.
And there it was again.
Sunset's ears twitched, rotating as they tried to pin down a direction.
A third laugh, and she had it zeroed in. A glance in that direction caught a little bit of red and white stripe - and a wave of ice ran through Sunset's fearful bones.
Forgetting the drinks and the line, Sunset peeled away and plunged into the crowd. Normally she would simply push other ponies aside - the nobility were rarely prepared to resist a magical shove - but she wanted to avoid drawing attention for the moment. Not until she was sure.
But being sure was easy, because she knew that voice and could pick it out from any crowd. And even though he was disguised, the key parts of his look were distinctive. He was wearing a proper suit: black silk over his blue and white striped shirt. The traditional straw boater hat had been left behind, leaving his red and white striped mane free. But what really clinched it was that smile. The one that said he had a plan, it was going to make him rich, and nopony was going to see it coming.
Even without his brother, Flim Skim was unmistakable.
Now Sunset's magic flared and pushed several nobles aside. The cluster around Flim cracked like a coconut and all eyes were on the young mare.
"Sunset! How are you, my little firecracker?" Flim reached out to hug his daughter.
Her magic blocked him half a body length away. "What are you doing here, Dad. You know you were ordered to stay away." Sunset's eyes narrowed threateningly. "Or do you think you can just openly defy Princess Celestia at one of her own events?"
Flim dismissed her concern with a wave of his hoof. "Ah, but she only asked that I avoid contacting you! It cannot be helped, my dear, if you come to me! I was merely attending this party when you approached unprompted and interrupted my conversation with Baron Miller of Fen." Said Baron was now slowly backing away, as he could read the room and wasn't an idiot. "I couldn't be held responsible for your actions as you are - by Princess Celestia's own statements - an independent filly who is in control of your own destiny." He smiled his best shyster's smile, which confirmed to Sunset that he was up to something. (He was always up to something.)
"And you somehow got into one of the most exclusive parties for the nobility in a city you never operate in." Sunset glared at him, even though she knew it wouldn't affect him in the least.
Even before she finished the sentence, Flim had his ticket out. "I was fortunate enough to--"
Sunset's magic overwhelmed his, snatching the ticket away. A quick visual scan didn't spot any of the usual signs of forgery, but it did spot one thing: the name. Her head whipped around and glared.
Blueblood - calmly standing off to the side - smiled angelically back.
"He's your plus-one?" Sunset's venom was not even slightly contained.
And it was met by a shrug. "I had a chance encounter with this gentlestallion and his brother earlier in the month. They had such wonderful ideas and opinions I simply had to bring them to Canterlot. Alas, I could only have one guest so his brother remains at my estate." At least that answered one critical question. "I had no idea he was your father, Miss Shimmer." The smile took on a sharper, toothier edge. "What a fascinating coincidence."
Which of course meant that he was totally aware and had brought Flim to the Gala on purpose. Sunset growled quietly - but she knew her target. Bluebood could wait. She had to get rid of her father first.
Not that Blueblood was going to make it quite so easy. She turned away from him, and he moved in front of her - and between her and her father. "It occurs to me--"
Sunset glared at Blueblood, hoping his head would explode.
It did not. "--That as your father has been so distant for so long, he might not be aware of your current situation." He turned his head to Flim, smile smug and sadistically gleeful. "Dear sir, have you heard that your daughter is dating a Princess?"
Oh no. Sunset's blood ran cold.
Feigning surprise, Flim gasped. "She is? That's amazing! I always knew my little Sunset had a nose for success, but a Princess? Why, that's quite an accomplishment!" He beamed a proud but fake smile at his daughter. "But then you always did aim for the most lucrative target."
Magic gathered in Sunset's horn as she considered teleporting the both of them into the decorative fish pond outside. (It was frozen, but that only increased the temptation.)
Blueblood wasn't done, however. Their conversation was obviously rehearsed and he wasn't about to miss his cue. "She's here at the Gala, you know."
"Where?" Flim stretched his long neck upwards, looking out over the crowd.
"I believe I know." Blueblood motioned with his head. "Why don't I introduce you to her?"
The two turned to walk towards the tables, and Sunset's magic solidified into a glowing teal wall in front of them. "Absolutely not. Neither of you is going anywhere near Cadance."
Whispers rumbled around them as the nobility finally noticed the growing conflict.
Blueblood, however, was not so easily dissuaded. He likely had expected this, in fact. "You can't stop us," he smugly started.
"I could throw you both off the side of the mountain," Sunset countered.
"You could." Blueblood didn't dispute that. "But you couldn't do it without attracting attention."
Sunset scoffed. "Why should I care what they see?"
"Princess attention," Blueblood elaborated.
Sunset's ears went flat.
He smiled. "No response to that, huh."
He had a point and she knew it. While Princess Celestia coming over would eventually work out in Sunset's favor, that guaranteed that Cadance would show up, too. And her marefriend meeting her father was the last thing Sunset wanted. The barrier she had conjured vanished in a wink, though her glare didn't relent. "If you take him over there, I won't have any reason to hold back anymore," she growled.
Blueblood just scoffed at what he knew was an idle threat. "You know full well that any action you take against me will only hurt you in the end. I had no idea who he was before you showed up," he smoothly lied, "And I haven't done anything other than make innocent suggestions. The Princess would have your head. You approached me. You would be attacking me. And your father walked away more than a minute ago while you were pre-occupied with accusing me of wrongdoing."
And he was right. Sunset registered that Flim was, in fact, no longer in her field of vision and she couldn't remember him having left it. (Classic misdirection, and the brothers loved doing it. Keeping track of which one was where always frustrated onlookers.) Instant blind panic set in and Sunset teleported.
She had enough sense, at least, not to teleport across the room into the crowd. It would be far too easy to end up trying to occupy space with another pony and any wizard worth their salt could tell you that was problematic. She moved on instinct, but they were the instincts of Princess Celestia's personal student so her teleport was placed as close as possible to Cadance while ensuring she was entering a clear space.
Sunset appeared in the air roughly a quarter inch above the table, crashing down with all four hooves a heartbeat later. Three landed clean; one planted directly in a cupcake.
Surprise was the obvious reaction from the table when Sunset appeared, though each resident had a different way of expressing it. Cadance simply gawked, freezing in place. The three disguised Guards stiffened momentarily before recognizing Sunset. The donkey - who had never met the unicorn before - had a knife at the ready before the cupcake finished squishing. (It was a butter knife from the place setting, but the adventurer's instincts were certainly well honed.)
"Sunset!" Cadance's brief shock disappeared once she grasped just who had teleported onto the table. "What's going on? I was just talking with Mister Doodle--"
"Doesn't matter. We gotta go."
Cadance was visibly confused by the almost-order, but the fact that she got out of her seat showed how much she trusted Sunset's opinion. "Go? Sunset, what's happening? What's wrong?"
Before she could get her explanation, however, two of the guards went on the defensive again - this time to stop a lanky stallion from approaching the table. He stopped short and held his hooves up to show his compliance. "Gentlestallions, please! I mean no harm, I just want to introduce myself to my daughter's marefriend!"
"Daughter's?"
Sunset's eyes shrank to pinpricks as her worst case scenario happened. And now even if she teleported him into the sun there would be questions from Cadance.
Flim beamed over the shoulder of one of the guards. "Ah, and I see Sunset's already gotten here to make the introductions!" He waved. She glared back with barely restrained fury.
Cadance turned her head back to Sunset. "Is-- um, could you..." She waved a hoof at Sunset - who got the hint and stepped down off the table. "Thank you. Sunset, is this really your father?"
Before she could respond, Flim took a step closer (much to the annoyance of the guards.) "But of course! Can't you see the family resemblance?"
The donkey inserted himself into the conversation. "Excuse me, but the Princess and I were having a very important talk. I don't know who you are or who your supposed daughter is, but as far as I'm concerned you can wait your turn."
Cadance headed that off before Flim could open his mouth. "Mr. Doodle, I'm sorry but this is an issue I really have to handle immediately. I do want to hear more about this Matilda of yours, though, and I would love to help you. Just perhaps... tomorrow?" She smiled awkwardly, not yet possessing the suave grace of Celestia. Still, it was enough and the donkey nodded. So Cadance turned back to Sunset. "Is he?"
The few seconds of distraction had been enough for Sunset to wrap her mind around the problem - at least enough to realize that denying the truth wouldn't do her any more good. The situation was out there, questions would be asked, and ponies would talk. So she reluctantly nodded. "Yeah. He's my dad."
That was enough confirmation for Cadance. She turned to the table's other occupant. "I'm sorry, Mr. Doodle, but this is going to take a little while. If you wouldn't mind giving us some space?" Her tone was even and placating - a diplomat's voice, showing off Princess Celestia's tutoring. The donkey grumbled but nodded - and stepped away with one of the guards towards the bar. A nod from Cadance had the other two guards back off, allowing Flim to pass closer and sit in the now vacant chair. And Sunset, in turn, finally lowered her guard enough to sit beside Cadance - and opposite her father.
Awkward silence loomed over them for several seconds before Cadance smiled her best smile. "So, Sunset's father?"
He beamed back. "Name's Flim! Bit too early to call me Dad, I'd say." He winked and made a nudging motion with his elbow.
Sunset cut in. "Are you Flim, though?" She turned to Cadance, heading off the obvious next question. "His brother's name is Flam. They're twins and swap which one is which occasionally." Her gaze twisted back to her father. "They're still not sure which one of them's my biological father."
Flim's smile only wavered a little. "Ah, but does it matter? We raised you together - your two dads! Just the three of us on the road to adventure!"
"The road to Tartarus, you mean," Sunset snarked. Her father glared at her - and she didn't spare him a glance as she addressed Cadance. "Look, there's no point in talking to him. There's a reason I threw both of them out of my life. They're garbage."
Flim faked a gasp. "Sunset, please! To think my own daughter would say such things! You know full well that my brother and I are merely entrepreneurs, making our way by selling our wares throughout Equestria!"
Cadance finally got a word in edgewise. "Oh? What kind of wares?"
Happily, Flim launched into his pitch. "Why, we--"
And was instantly cut off at the knees by Sunset yanking away the bandage. "They're con-ponies."
A beat of silence. Flim tried to recover. "What she means is--"
"They scam ponies out of their bits using fake products, lies, and the occasional musical number." Sunset's voice stayed flat and dead as she dropped the hammer.
Father and daughter locked eyes across the table - one challenging, the other furious. Cadance - caught in the middle - had her smile waver slightly as she tried to bring things back to an even keel. "Well, what about Sunset's mother? She's never mentioned her either."
Flim tried to wrest control once again. "Ah, of course! I'm sad to say she never knew her mother, but rest assured she was a beauty beyond compare!" His eyes flicked away from the Princess to the unicorn, who in return watched like a hawk. "I was entranced by her from the moment we first met. And what could a poor, lovestruck fool such as myself do but seek to woo her?" He sighed wistfully, looking skywards with a beatific smile.
And then Sunset ruined it by revealing the truth. "She was in the first town they swindled." She ignored as her father glared balefire. "The two of them conned her just like they conned everypony else. The next morning they ran away with a sack full of bits and left me behind. Not that they knew I existed yet."
"We--"
Sunset cut him off. "Not until a year later when my mother tracked them down, dumped me in their laps, and disappeared again." She turned to Cadance, voice dripping with hurt and savage fury. "They won't even tell me what the name of the town was, would you believe that? So I can't track her down."
A spark caught, and Flim lurched forward in a half-lunge towards Sunset. "It was for your own protection!"
But the daughter's anger burned brighter, catching in the same instant. "It was because I was too useful!"
"She chose to abandon you!" His hoof slammed against a plate.
"You only kept me as a tool for your schemes!" She slammed hers down as well.
"You're family! That was more important!" Flim was on his hooves now, leaning across the table.
"Yeah right! Just your usual empty platitudes, trying to keep me underhoof." Sunset sneered. "I'm glad I betrayed you."
Silence.
Flim wobbled. "What?"
"I'm the one that snitched to the Guard," Sunset hissed with joyful anger. "I told Princess Celestia about your last heist, and that's why the Guard caught you before you could get to the Royal Vaults."
Another wobble, and Flim slumped back into his chair. "But you're the one who told us how to get in."
An evil smile overwhelmed Sunset's face. "Yeah. And that's the only reason that Princess Celestia told you to leave Canterlot instead of throwing you in prison."
The stallion's voice was weak now, in a way that brought joy to Sunset's face. "But we're family," he croaked.
Sunset struck the finishing blow. "Everything after we arrived in Canterlot was mine. I'm the one that worked to pass the entrance exam. I'm the one who got Princess Celestia's attention. I'm the one who fought and stampeded to get ahead and make something out of my life while you rode my tail. I outgrew you, Dad. I made my own destiny, and I made sure you weren't part of it."
He blanched, and Sunset relished her victory. But that also let the flames pull back from her face and see beyond the two of them. Cadance was locked in a state of shock: mouth slightly open and body frozen as her diplomatic lessons failed and everything exploded in front of her. There was a crowd, too - Sunset's shouting had bludgeoned much of the Gala to silence and every pony with line of sight on her was staring. Most were watching the way one watches a train crash, albeit tinged with disdain for the disruption. One that differed was Blueblood, of course. He was watching with smug glee as Sunset and her father did exactly what he had wanted and aired their dirty laundry in front of both Canterlot's nobility and Cadance.
Sunset's rage refocused towards Blueblood's smirk.
Cadance opened her mouth to try and regain control.
Flim recovered before either of them could act.
His shock passed enough for the stallion's spine to return, and his distraught disbelief transformed into anger. He rose like a rocket, chair toppling backwards. "I can't believe this! After everything we did to raise you - after your mother abandoned you!"
The anger pulled Sunset's attention back to him. "Shut up!" Her head swiveled to Cadance. "Now do you see why I threw them out of my life?"
"You don't get to decide that!" Flim stomped around the table, and the guards started to move in.
Sunset ignored him. "Next time when I don't want to talk about a subject, maybe you'll trust me." A little part of her regretted saying that even as she spit it at Cadance, but the rest of her was riding the cresting wave of her anger.
Flim grabbed Sunset's shoulder. "I'm talking to you, damn it!"
A wing came down on Flim's withers very solidly, and the room went silent. The stallion twisted his head around to yell at who ever was touching him - and froze.
"I think you should leave." Princess Celestia's voice was even. Too even. And every pony in the room knew it. Even Blueblood looked a bit ashen, likely realizing that things had gone a bit too far.
Even if the Princess didn't get the point across to Flim, the large number of guards (both in uniform and not) emerging from the crowd made the message clear. He tried to smile his best shyster's smile, only to be met by a complete lack of amusement or pity from the Princess. "I was just about to go," he uneasily but wisely said. "After I said goodbye to my daughter."
Sunset snorted. "I haven't been your daughter for a long time."
Flim's ears and voice went flat. "No. I suppose you aren't my daughter any more."
The guards escorted him out of the Gala. And while all eyes were on him, Sunset slipped away as well.
Cadance knocked on Sunset's door, but didn't wait for permission before coming in. Any response would have told her to go away (probably very rudely) so there was little point in waiting for a reply she would have ignored.
The room was a far cry from the first time Cadance entered it months earlier. It had started with Sunset reluctantly adding a second chair to the room for their lessons - one that now sat beside the desk with a pleasant sage green cushion on the seat. Since then, many of the little unfriendly touches had gone away. The little enchantments to make it uncomfortable had faded - the magically dehydrating lack of humidity had evened out with the rest of the castle and the creepy illusory eyes of the paintings had returned to their natural still state. The itchy comforter to keep others off her bed had been replaced by a fluffy down one Cadance had gifted Sunset, and the hard-edged tables were now blunted by draped tablecloths. It did remain a dark room with the heavy blackout curtains that blocked both the sun and the nighttime lights of Canterlot, but otherwise the room had slowly transformed into something vaguely welcoming.
Not that it was at the moment, even to Cadance. The lights were out save for the smoldering coals in the fireplace for warmth. Those embers barely lit anything but it was enough to see Sunset laid out on her bed, face buried in the pillow. Closing the door behind her, Cadance tried to pull her marefriend out of her darkness.
"Sunset?"
No response.
"Sunset, I'm sorry."
Still nothing.
"I should have listened to you. I just..." Cadance licked her nervously dry lips. "I was hoping to get a few cute stories about you as a filly or something. I wasn't going to press too much, but I wanted to learn more about where you came from."
That managed to pry a little bit out of Sunset. She answered without raising her head, voice thick with frustration. "Starting when I was five, my dads had me blend in with the crowd at their shows and pretend I was a local. If I did my job right as a plant, they'd give me a lollipop."
Cadance flinched.
"Nopony expects the audience plant to be a foal," Sunset bitterly added.
The bed sank as Cadance slipped on it to lay beside Sunset. "I'm sorry. I knew your family was a sore spot, but I thought it was just..." She struggled to find a way to not make her next words sound demeaning. After a few moments, she gave up. "Just you being a teenager. Everypony has that time when you're angry at your parents, but they're still family."
Sunset groaned into the pillow before finally lifting her head. "No, I hate my dads because they're selfish monsters."
For just a moment, Cadance looked ready to dispute that - but she wisely pushed it down and didn't say anything.
So Sunset continued. "They've been out of my life since I was nine and I would've been fine with them staying out until I was fifty. Stupid Blueblood." Her head impacted with the pillow as her neck gave up trying. "Next time I'm just teleporting him off the side of the mountain and dealing with Princess Celestia being angry."
Cadance laughed. A little. Quietly. "You shouldn't."
"...I might anyway," Sunset grumped.
A wing stretched out across Sunset's back in a half-hug, and they laid there for several minutes in silence. Sunset's dregs of anger faded, and she gradually leaned into the hug.
But eventually Cadance's curiosity became too much. "I know I shouldn't," she started, "But I've still got so many questions. But I won't ask!" She added that part with panicked quickness. "When you're ready to talk, though, I really do want to learn more about that time. It's obviously had a big influence on who you are - and I like who you are."
Sunset grunted again, eyes locked closed. "I'll give you one question. On one condition, and in exchange for one favor."
The offer momentarily startled Cadance. "Um. Oh! Okay, that's... that's fair." A moment of thought. "What's the condition?"
"You take me at my word this time," Sunset bitterly declared.
The tone made Cadance grimace. But she also nodded. "And the favor?"
"I'll tell you that after the question." It was a cagey response - but Sunset didn't want to show all her cards yet. Not until she knew what the question was.
For a moment, Cadance hesitated. But she nodded again despite the uncertainty - and asked her question. "If life with your dads was like that, how did you end up at the School for Gifted Unicorns?"
A little part of Sunset relaxed at the relatively innocuous question. "They wanted to move up to bigger and better things," she started. "Canterlot's full of rich and powerful ponies, and a lot of them are idiots. They needed a way to get a hoof in the door, though, because they really didn't belong. So they had me take the admission test because 'our daughter and yours are in the same class' is an easy conversation starter with a mark."
"Oh." Sunset couldn't see it, but she could hear Cadance's frown. "So not because they wanted you to get an education."
"Nope." Sunset punctuated it by popping emphasis on the p. "As it turned out, though, it was just right for me. I liked going to classes and learning, and I loved magic. Instead of doing the minimum to stay in while they ran their scams, I excelled. After a year, I got Princess Celestia's attention and she made me her personal student." A quiet chuckle slipped out at the memory. "My dads were over the moon because it opened up a lot more doors. That's when I started to realize how bad they were. I'd succeeded where nopony else had in living memory, but they only thought about what it got them." Sunset's voice dropped to a growl. "Princess Celestia was proud of me, but my dads never were."
Cadance's wing tightened, hugging Sunset harder.
Technically the question was long answered, but the words kept spilling out of Sunset's mouth. There hadn't been anypony she could confess this to before and now she couldn't quite stop herself. "That's why I set them up. They weren't normally thieves, but when I dangled the Royal Vault in front of them they couldn't help it. It was more money than they'd ever seen in their lives and I told them there was an unguarded way in. Then I told Princess Celestia. I'm pretty sure she knew what I was doing, but she played along and pretended she didn't."
"And then the guards caught your dads," Cadance completed.
Sunset nodded. "And they were thrown out of my life until today."
A gentle kiss touched the base of Sunset's horn. "Thank you for sharing with me, Sunset. It means a lot."
"And you owe me for it," Sunset reminded.
"I do."
Sunset's head tilted towards Cadance, burying her face in the alicorn's side. "Stay here tonight."
It was a risk - maybe too far. Too much. But in that moment, Sunset didn't care. The night had been ruined, and she was exhausted - both physically and emotionally.
Cadance didn't give it even a moment's thought. She wiggled closer, cuddling with Sunset and keeping the unicorn under wing.
The blackout curtains allowed no light to enter, but Sunset was well trained. She knew the time even without needing to open her eyes.
But she did and looked at the sleeping alicorn next to her.
The New Year's Gala had started when the nobles tried to be the first one to wish Princess Celestia a happy new year.
Sunset Shimmer - daughter of two con-ponies and common as dirt - kissed Cadance's cheek. "Happy new year, princess."
There were downsides to being in a relationship with Cadance. Part of her growing skill set was that she was very in tune with other ponies' emotions and being so close with Sunset Shimmer only increased that. She had a sixth sense for how her marefriend was feeling and had the wherewithal to do something about it.
"You need to let it go, Sunset. He isn't worth it."
And that led to her chirping like a cricket in Sunset's ear.
She was right, of course. Blueblood wasn't worth it. But his last stunt had proven he was too dangerous to leave alone - worthless prat or not, he wasn't going to go away and he had deftly moved himself from annoyance to threat.
There had been the faint hope Princess Celestia would do something about it. Bringing Flim and Flam back to Canterlot was in direct defiance of her wishes - but Blueblood had weaseled his way out of that. His story of randomly meeting the stallions and not being aware of Sunset's parentage held just enough water to cushion the Princess' anger. He'd played himself as a victim, conned by their honeyed words rather than being a co-conspirator. She had too soft a heart to believe the truth. Blueblood was punished, yes, but it had been minor: a stern talking-to and that he would pay back any of the nobles taken in by the brothers' schemes. Nothing about what he had subjected Sunset to.
So that meant Sunset had to be proactive. She had to remove him instead of hoping he would just go away.
And after two weeks, she had a plan for how.
Trotting through the School with purposeful strides, Sunset didn't even glance as the crowd of students around her whispered and wondered. Some about the scandal of the Gala, some about just what she was up to now. A few were partially correct: she was en route to Blueblood.
The fop was holding court at a side table in the cafeteria - a place he wouldn't deign to actually eat in but was a useful social hub where he could lord over the lessers.
And that's what she was to him: lesser. Blueblood didn't even spare her a glance when Sunset entered the room. As far as he was concerned, their fight was over. He'd struck the most deadly blow possible by showing her parentage to the world - now everypony knew that Sunset Shimmer came from inferior stock. In Blueblood's mind, there could be no more grievous wound and she would never recover.
Of course, he was an idiot and that only made Sunset madder.
Cadance tried to stop what was coming. She trotted beside Sunset, putting her lanky body between the two unicorns and subtly tried to steer them apart. It didn't work - when Cadance's barrel nudged against Sunset's, she stopped walking to let the Princess past and re-angled directly for Blueblood behind her.
He noticed now - probably from the fiery burn of her angry glare. But there was no concern on his face, just smug victory and assured confidence.
Cadance moved between the two again in a vain last effort.
There was a flash of teal as Sunset teleported from one side of the princess to the other - and right in front of her target. Sunset's front hooves planted on tile, acting as a pivot for her body to whip around on. For just a moment it looked like she was going to buck Blueblood in the face - and he flinched in anticipation of it.
She did not. Sunset was no mud pony.
Instead her thick tail slapped Blueblood across the face with a meaty thwap.
He and everypony else in the cafeteria froze.
Glaring back over her flank, Sunset growled at her nemesis. "I challenge you to a duel."*
Everywhere around them was a storm of whispers - it was school, after all, and teenagers had both a sharp sense for drama and zero restraint.
But Blueblood didn't care about that. He was staring at Sunset as his expression rapidly cycled from shock to disbelief to smug pleasure. "I can hardly believe your audacity." Recovered from the strike, he hopped off the bench and drew himself up - head high, neck straight, looking down at the smaller Sunset. "Let me be sure - you are challenging me to a duel."
Sunset, eyes burning hot, nodded.
"Your terms?"
"Once I win," she began, "You will stay away from me and away from Cadance. We're both off limits for you, forever."
Blueblood scoffed. "And when I win, you will renounce your pursuit of Princess Cadance and make way for your betters."
"No."
She wasn't able to use the Royal Canterlot Voice, but Cadance still carried the weight of an alicorn - moreso since her punctuating stomp caused the entire cafeteria to vibrate. All eyes were on her, all other voices silent. "I am not a thing to be fought over." Balefire flickered in her eyes as she glared at the feuding unicorns. "If you're determined to go down this idiotic path, fine. But I also will not be a prize. I am a pony and a..." She hesitated before finally saying the word. "A Princess. My choices are my own, and neither of you can dictate my actions."
In the silence, her words hit home - both Sunset and Blueblood cringed in shame. The two looked to each other and tried again.
"Once I win," Sunset retried more slowly, "You will swear to stay out of my life. You will not interfere with my actions, you will not involve me in your stupid games, you will not pull idiotic stunts like you did at the Gala. And to ensure that you don't, you will sign a legal document giving me permission to - should you violate your word - shave your mane off and dock your tail."
All around, students whispered like a roaring river. The image of Blueblood bald was enough to entice everypony's imagination.
But where she expected him to balk, Blueblood stood confident. The threat didn't even make him hesitate. "And after I win, you will leave Canterlot. You do not belong here, Sunset Shimmer. You have proven that time and again with your actions, your words, and now your parentage. I will defeat you, and you will never set hoof within the bounds of this city again."
Their eyes locked in a silent struggle. Neither gave an inch. They nodded simultaneously in agreement to their terms.
"As the challenged," Blueblood announced, "I have the right to choose the form of our duel." He paused to let the drama build, and the audience held their breath. "Fencing," he decreed, nearly spitting the word. "I think I'll choose the foil."
Now it was Sunset's turn to react - and she balked. "Fencing? What, you're too good for a magic duel?"
Blueblood laughed. "I'm sorry, you challenge me and then expect me to pick an arena where you have all the advantages? I'm not stupid."
"Too cowardly to take me head on?"
"Too smart to fall into your obvious trap." Blueblood snorted and gave his luxurious hair a toss. "But I'll allow you to surrender now if you want."
Surrender might have even been wise: Blueblood was captain of the School's fencing team, while Sunset had never even glanced at a blade. Everypony in the room knew she was hopelessly outmatched.
But Sunset Shimmer didn't surrender. She re-steeled herself after the momentary fumble, returning to glaring flames at her opponent. "I will not surrender."
A toothy smile spread across Blueblood's confident face. "In the interest of being sporting, I will allow you two weeks to learn how to fence. It wouldn't be fair to the crowd if it was over too fast," he scoffed.
More glares were exchanged, then Sunset nodded. "Two weeks." The confrontation ended as she turned and stomped off.
A number of the usual sycophants like Clear Sky tried to follow Sunset, but they were blocked by Cadance. A wave of her wing shooed them away, giving the couple a little privacy as they passed into the hall. A few turns took them to the exit and they stepped outside into the frigid winter air.
As soon as they were clear, Cadance whipped her head around and glared at her marefriend. "Please tell me you've got a plan and didn't just make a stupid impulsive challenge you can't possibly win." Her breath billowed in front of her, coiling like dragon's smoke.
"I have a plan," assured Sunset.
Several seconds of silence passed.
"Do I get to know what the plan is?" questioned Cadance.
Sunset shifted uneasily, snow crunching underhoof. "I'm still working out a few details," she hedged, keeping it to a half-lie and trying to ignore Cadance's frustrated grumble. "But first things first, I need to find somepony who can teach me how to fence."
And that drew a frustrated sigh from Cadance. "So you aren't secretly a fencing master."
"No. But that would have made this a lot easier."
Turning away, Cadance took a few steps over to a bench by the school doors. She brushed it clean with her wing before slumping down onto it. A moment later, Sunset sat beside her and the two leaned into one another to share warmth.
"You have to realize that you aren't alone." Cadance's tone was quiet but forceful - a mixture that practically screamed how much annoyance she was holding back. "Doing something impulsive like this doesn't just affect you any more. If you lose, what do you think it's going to do to Princess Celestia? Or to me?"
Gut instinct made Sunset want to scoff at the idea that Princess Celestia would care - but the other part hit hard enough to knock that thought away. "Oh. Yeah, I guess it would affect you."
"It would. Even if you went somewhere close, I couldn't visit you often enough." Cadance smiled a little again. "I'm spoiled by having my marefriend a few hallways over."
Sunset scoffed overdramatically. "Oh please. There's nothing nearby except farming villages and mud holes! If I had to leave, I'd go somewhere classy like Manehatten." They both descended briefly into giggles over the statement - but when that ended, Sunset's voice was quiet and soft. "You'd really visit me?"
Cadance planted a gentle kiss at the base of Sunset's horn. "My choices are my own, and I choose to be with you. Of course I'd visit. We wouldn't be the first ponies to have a long distance relationship." She paused - hesitating before continuing to speak her mind. "I'm unhappy with you right now for this stupid stunt, but I still choose you."
"It's not a stunt." Sunset put her hoof over Cadance's. "Blueblood isn't going to let this go, and he's going to keep causing problems. I have to shut him down or he'll ruin everything."
The alicorn frowned, annoyance on the rise once more. "Sunset, you can just ignore him. Let it go. He can't actually do anything to hurt you or me. Let him scream and whine while we live our lives."
Sunset just... shook her head. "I know his sort. He won't let up. I either face him now, or face him in a few months after he's caused even more problems."
"Sunset." Cadance's wing nudged Sunset's face around and the two locked eyes. There was something new behind the purple that Sunset hadn't seen before - protective, defiant, maybe a little motherly. "What could he possibly do that he hasn't already?"
It was a good question. And it was one that put a deep chill in Sunset's soul. "I don't know." But the fear under her voice wasn't because of the admission: it was the uncertainty. "I didn't think he'd bring my dads into this either, but he did. So what else could he do? Maybe they told him secrets I don't know about yet. Maybe he'll find my mother and use her against me. Blueblood's gotten under my guard once and I am not giving him the chance to do it again."
"You keep reminding me that I'm a Princess." Cadance's voice was flat - on the verge of threatening, as incongruous as that was for the fluffy pink mare. "If I have to, I can resolve this for both of you."
Sunset's ears went flat. "You're a Princess. I'm not." She didn't think to disguise the bitterness in her voice - and likely couldn't have if she tried. "I have to solve this my way."
There were no words for a minute - then Cadance stood. She didn't look at her marefriend, instead gazing out towards the rest of Canterlot and to the sky off the side of the mountain. "You're going to insist on doing this." She didn't need to turn to know Sunset nodded. And it made Cadance sigh deeply. "I need some time to think about this, okay? I just... this is so dumb."
Sunset hopped off the bench and tried to draw up beside her. "Cadance--" But the alicorn was already walking away. "Cadance, wait!"
She didn't wait. She even made sure Sunset couldn't follow and the unicorn could only watch as Cadance flew off into the crisp, clear winter sky.
It was a torturous day, admittedly: Sunset had tried to spend it focusing elsewhere to keep her mind off Cadance. That had only been marginally successful. Sure she had managed to read her way through four books on fencing and duels, but only about half of it had been absorbed and the margins of her notes were filled with suspiciously crystalline heart-shapes.
But she had held strong. In the end, it was Cadance who came back to her,
Sunset was returning from the library when they connected, her bags heavy with more manuals and treatises on fencing. She'd already spent all her free time the day before reading the first set, and now she was preparing for another afternoon and evening of the same in the company of a roaring fire and the remains of a pizza.
Cadance, meanwhile, was walking across the quad with purpose, prepared for the cold weather with a bright yellow scarf and matching earmuffs. And she was also not alone.
Beside her was a unicorn mare Sunset hadn't met before: mottled white and gray coat; maroon mane so lustrous it almost ate the afternoon light; long, lithe legs; a body so lean it straddled the line between wiry and anorexic; capped off with an austere steel gray scarf and slim saddlebags. The exotic mare by Cadance's side was, in a word, beautiful.
Sunset was already devising ways to get rid of the interloper.
"Sunset!" Cadance was eager to greet her marefriend(?), voice chipper and upbeat as ever. Like nothing had happened.
"Cadance." Sunset's response was far more guarded - even and restrained. "Who's your..." She paused meaningfully. "Friend?"
The alicorn blinked, not understanding for a moment. Then she blushed, scandalized. "You need a fencing instructor. So I found one."
Now it was Sunset's turn to be momentarily stunned before flushing with embarrassment. "Oh."
Cadance rolled her eyes and shook her head. "What you're doing is stupid, but I'm not going to abandon you over this." She made a motion to the other mare with her wing. "Sunset Shimmer, this is Gliding Moth. She's assistant captain of the fencing team."
Sunset had been reaching out to hoof-shake with the mare, but froze at that bit of information. "Blueblood's number two?"
Gliding Moth nodded curtly. "Yes." Her Trottingham accent was heavy enough that Sunset could hear it brewing tea. "And while I'm certain you have concerns on that, we can discuss them where there isn't fetlock-deep snow."
"...Fair enough." Sunset started towards her rooms, only to find the other two headed elsewhere. Simple triangulation made the destination clear. "The gym?"
"Your match is in twelve days, and you're a fool if you don't use every moment you have to practice." Gliding didn't hold back.
And Sunset knew she was right.
There were a dozen or so ponies in the gym as they arrived, and while a few tried to look without looking like they were looking? Most took once glance at the trio and decided to avoid them. Getting involved in Sunset and Blueblood's fight would only end in tears for the average pony.
Cadance split off, taking a seat on the bottom row of the bleachers. Initially Sunset tried to go to the bleachers as well but Gliding beelined for a strip outlined on the gym floor, causing Sunset to veer and keep up with her.
An aura of opaline gray pulled a pair of thin blades out from a case in the fencer's bag - Gliding had prepared, it seemed. "Blueblood undoubtedly chose the foil for obvious reasons. He's strongest with the sabre, but the foil is the hardest to learn or master. He wants to make this as difficult for you as he can." She stepped on to one end of the strip and automatically raised the foil to a ready position. "We will begin with your stance."
Sunset didn't follow, stopping defiantly beside the strip. "No, we'll begin with why you're helping me."
Gliding sighed heavily, eyes closing with frustration. "Fine. If you insist we waste time with that--"
"I insist."
She let out another long sigh, this one frustrated as if the explanation was below her. "Blueblood graduates at the end of this year, and so next year there will be a new captain of the team. I want that to be me. To do that I need to prove myself, and assisting you in defeating him is an excellent way to do that."
Sunset rolled that thought around her head for a few seconds, like she was trying to decide if she liked the flavor of an unknown meal. "Makes sense," she finally decided on. "So you think I can beat him?"
"I think you have no chance at all." Gliding was as quick to answer as she was blunt. "But I also suspect you have a plan, and I'm willing to hang my flag on your cunning defeating his superior skill."
A few more seconds of thought, and Sunset nodded. "Alright. I can work with that." She finally stepped on to the other end of the strip. "So - stance?"
Her response was a nod.
As commanded, Sunset lifted the foil and put herself into a perfect fencing stance.
Only for Gliding to grunt with displeasure and mutter something under her breath. "You're completely wrong."
Just the concept of those words made Sunset flinch. "Excuse me?"
"You're wrong," the pale mare repeated. She trotted to Sunset's side, circling behind her. "Your hooves are too far apart and you're squared up instead of narrowing your profile." She tapped Sunset's back-left knee with a hoof, adjusting her slightly. "The stance you have is for a duel with magic rather than blades. You're putting pressure down to anchor yourself and brace for an impact."
Her hoof traced up, going across Sunset's shoulders and then down her side. "Part of why the foil is tricky is because the area for a valid touch is quite small. When you fence, you will have a protector covering here and that is the only point you can be hit. Anything outside of it does not count."
"Well, yeah--" Sunset tried to interrupt.
She didn't get far - Gliding didn't let her. "If you're about to say you know, then you're a liar because you obviously don't. Your stance was presenting the largest part of that target directly to your opponent when you should be narrowing it."
Anger started to boil up into Sunset's seething voice. "I know. I spent all day yesterday reading--"
"You read it and you understand it, but you aren't doing it," Gliding firmly stated with a punctuating stomp. "Knowledge is not enough. Would you expect to read a book on weight lifting and then carry off a mountain? No, you would not. And this is the same."
Once more she was right, of course. Not that Sunset cared - even the teachers at Celestia's School didn't talk to her that way. She was just about to open up on her so-called 'instructor' when a bit of movement caught her attention. It was just Cadance shifting on the bleachers, out on the edge of her vision - but it brought Sunset's attention for a moment to her marefriend. Somepony who had - even after they fought - gone to the trouble of finding help and doing everything she could for Sunset to succeed.
It wasn't needed since Sunset had the situation under control, but she had still tried. Cadance had been mad and still tried.
The thought only took a moment to process, but that was enough for Sunset's anger to chill. She took a deep breath - and pushed her ego into a little box for now. She had a goal. This was a small sacrifice to get there. "If my stance is wrong," she said with measured, even care, "Why don't you show me what the right way is? You said yourself that we don't have a lot of time."
That was the right answer, it seemed. Gliding nudged Sunset around with both magic and hoof to get her into the position she wanted. It was an odd one: her hooves were almost in a straight line, knees bent halfway. Her body was contorted with her left shoulder forwards and the rest of her twisted up behind it.
Stepping back, Gliding gave Sunset a look-over before nodding to herself. "I want you to imagine there is a shield mounted on your shoulder," she instructed. "You want to keep it pointed towards your opponent at all times, and have the rest of your body sheltered by it. Doing so means only the area of that 'shield' is exposed to your opponent directly." She floated a foil up in front of her and slowly made several attacking motions. "If they want to hit another part of you, they will need to move their weapon further to the side and forward, opening up their guard for a riposte." Again, she moved her foil to try and strike the other parts of Sunset's body - and indeed moving it away from herself and leaving her own body exposed. "Do you understand?"
And it made sense. It wasn't particularly comfortable to be in the weirdly unnatural position, but Sunset could accept that it was like that for a solid reason. "Yeah."
Gliding paused a little longer, as if waiting for more back-talk. When none came? She nodded firmly. "Good. Since you're now in an acceptable stance, I can start teaching you how to use your foil." Hers whipped up, floating in her magic. "Hold yours like so. This is the ready position..."
Three hours later, Sunset was exhausted. She had good magical endurance, but wasn't quite so adept physically and the unnatural position didn't help. Being on the wrong side of Gliding's foil didn't help either - despite the instructor going slow and easy, hours of being hit in the same spot had left Sunset's leading shoulder sore. (She was also sporting a blossoming bruise right at the base of her neck - she had managed to lunge in exactly the wrong way, taking Gliding's foil precisely in the seam of her vest where the padding was weakest. She had been instructed that was her subclavian muscle and to never move like that again.)
The workout only ended when Gliding pulled her mask off and stepped off the strip. "You're done for the day." Her foil floated back to her case. "We will begin again at three tomorrow."
Sunset's magic wobbled as she replaced her own weapon. "Any homework for me, teach?" She managed to hold herself to only minimal sarcasm.
Gliding did not return the favor. "No. I have plenty of my own to do - not all of us are on Independent Study curriculums under the Princess."
After she turned her back, Sunset let off a little steam by mockingly (but silently) mouthing her words with as much snark as she was able. Cadance almost gave it away when she laughed, but Gliding didn't seem to notice as she walked off. Once they were alone again (or at least as alone as you could be in a large gym), the pair shared a hug on the bleachers. For a long minute, they were silent and enjoyed simply holding one another.
But it couldn't last forever and Cadance is the one who broke it. "So do I get to know what your plan is yet?"
Sunset hesitated to answer. "Not yet," was what she finally decided on. It was the wrong answer, and she felt Cadance tense up against her.
"But you do have one."
"I do." Sunset's small nod was enough for Cadance to lose at least a little of the tension.
"Is it a good plan?"
Another hesitation before Sunset answered. "I think it is. Or at least it's as good as I've got."
Cadance gave her marefriend a little shove, barrel against barrel. "You're not exactly filling me with confidence, Sunny."
The shortening of her name made Sunset's nose wrinkle. "Shouldn't I be the one worrying here, Caddy?"
They stuck their tongues out at each other - and then they laughed together.
"You know, if anypony else called me that I'd throw them through a window," Sunset wryly pointed out.
Cadance just laughed more.
"But I guess I'll tolerate it if you're saying it." And Sunset punctuated it with a kiss on the cheek.
While students might joke that Independent Study with the Princess was an easy alternative to real classes, they were fools. Sunset knew that and never bothered to correct them. It would be a waste of her time to educate idiots - that's what the teachers were for.
Yes, it provided Sunset considerable leeway - many of her tasks could be accomplished when she felt she needed to rather than in a highly regimented schedule. What she was doing minute to minute mattered less than her end results and to the average student that seemed like unlimited freedom.
It also afforded Sunset opportunities others would never get, like the experiment she was performing now: leaning over a triangle of carefully prepared rubies on a heavily warded table in the annex of Princess Celestia's personal library, pouring magical power into creating a miniature sun.
What the complainers didn't usually recognize was the level of expectation that her 'privilege' put on Sunset. Those end results did matter and she regularly had the Princess looking over her shoulder to see how things were going. That was another thing that the average student would think was a help and an honor - because they'd never had to deal with it.
"Your containment rune is too close to the edge." Princess Celestia pointed it out in what she likely meant as a helpful tip, but as usual came out as a half-sneer.
The fact that the Princess was probably trying to help didn't. Sunset ground her teeth harder. "I know."
"It's going to backfire soon," Celestia stated, more pointedly this time.
"I know."
"If you know, why aren't you doing anything to correct for it?"
That pushed Sunset over the edge. Her head twisted to glare at the Princess - and she lost concentration. The spell fizzled with a dramatic flash and muffled kaboom. The three carefully prepared rubies absorbed the uncontrolled energy and were cooked from the inside out, transforming them into lumps of molten carbon. Sunset, in turn, released her rage by kicking the nearest object: a wooden lectern. It fell over, dropping the centuries-old spellbook they had been using to the floor where the already fragile bindings crumbled and spilled it into a mess of pages.
Several beats of silence passed before Princess Celestia calmly asked, "So what was your reason for not correcting it?"
Sunset wanted to be angry. But experience told her that wouldn't help anything and wouldn't stop the Princess from asking that same question until she got an answer. "I didn't notice it was out of position until after the spell started," she stated through grit teeth. "At that point I couldn't move it without disrupting the entire spell matrix. I could have just reinforced the shield on that side if somepony had let me concentrate."
"Not every situation where you need to concentrate will be a perfect environment, Sunset. You need to be able to ignore disruptions. If my asking what you were doing was enough to break your concentration, then it speaks poorly of how you would handle larger or louder problems." The Princess clicked her tongue, scolding her student. "I'm disappointed. You need to be better prepared."
Sunset snorted. "I need better concentration to be a princess? Is that what I need to finally be ready?"
The P-word made Celestia frown deeply. "Yes, in fact, that's part of it."
Sunset's ears perked up at the unexpected admission to what she had meant as a rhetorical question.
Sighing, Princess Celestia stepped away from the wreckage of the experiment and back towards her personal library. It was a relatively compact room - Celestia only kept a small number of books for herself rather than in the greater Canterlot Library - but it was far brighter than one would expect for a library, with massive stained glass windows interspersed with gilt bookshelves and overstuffed plush couches. "Your temper is a factor, Sunset Shimmer. To be a princess is to be beyond such things. You cannot allow yourself to be affected by emotions and base passions as all of ponykind's fate rests on your withers." She lit her horn, picking up the now-scattered pages of the destroyed spellbook and gently sorting them into a pile on an end table. "Becoming swept up in anger or losing focus is unacceptable when the price isn't paid in focusing gems or a few minutes of frustration - it is paid in lives." She turned, looking to Sunset with an inscrutable smile. "You've never understood that to be the Princess, you cannot be a pony. You must set aside your desires and feelings to make the best possible choices."
Perhaps Princess Celestia expected humility or understanding as a response. Instead, she got a sneer. "Cadance isn't like that."
Celestia's smile turned sour. "She is young still."
Taking a step closer, Sunset defiantly glared upwards at the Princess. "And I thought you approved of her and me. That doesn't sound like her ignoring her emotions."
Celestia turned away, walking slowly past the shelves. "Let her enjoy her youth. There are many years for her to learn these lessons in."
A flash - and Sunset teleported in front of Celestia, jaw set and once more preparing for a fight. "What, I'm just something to entertain her until I die and she moves on to the real princess stuff?"
There were no words, but they weren't needed. Princess Celestia's forlorn, regretful expression said 'yes' far stronger than any speech could. Sunset rocked backwards, struck by the raw force of Celestia's pity.
The Princess walked around Sunset, moving languidly towards a clear window between two of stained glass. (The left showed a stylized conference atop a mountain between Celestia and a massive dragon; the right, a similarly abstract scene with a group of griffons bowing to her.) She said nothing as she passed by the lunch that had been set out for them - two salads (apple, walnut, and cranberry), tea (silver needle white), and a light dessert (slices of roast pear in honey). A cranberry floated out of the salad and into her mouth as she gazed out at Canterlot below.
Recovering herself, Sunset stomped after her, frustrated anger mixing with stubborn defiance. "So that's it? You're never making me an alicorn so I'm just a plaything for the rest of my life?"
"You are not ready to be an alicorn," Celestia sighed for the seven hundred and thirty-third time. "Perhaps you will be some day, but it is not my choice to make."
"And just what do I need to do to be ready? You're always so damn vague!" Sunset tried to get in Celestia's face again, but the basic physics of the Princess facing the window prevented it. "Even if you don't care about me, you care about Cadance. You should want me to stick around for her sake!"
Another sigh - heavy with centuries. "It would be better for her if you did not."
Again, Sunset staggered as the words slapped her. But this time she was more ready and recovered faster. "So you want the Princess of Love to shut herself off from emotion?" She snarled, teeth bared and dangerously close to that long, swan-like neck. "You can't be that dumb."
She obviously had a point, because Celestia didn't answer immediately. Instead, after a pause, she changed the conversation. "You are not a plaything, Sunset Shimmer. You are a thinking, feeling being with a mind all your own and amazing dreams. I have met very few ponies of your caliber, and you are closer to me than any other in living memory." Her eyes flicked to her student's. "I will miss you deeply when you are gone."
Sunset winced.
"That is the nature of an alicorn. Being eternal in a mortal world weighs heavily on the soul. No pony can survive completely isolated, but an alicorn has no one to anchor to. We are alone in eternity." There was a tremble in Celestia's limbs - a tense shaking, like she was braced on the edge of a cliff and staring down the distant fall. "I've said before that I have to protect you from being a princess. This is an aspect of it. You are my brilliant student, Sunset Shimmer, and I don't want to see that extinguished."
Anger flickered in Sunset's heart again. "So you think I'm too weak to cut it?"
Silence was her response. Long seconds of silence as Princess Celestia stared out at her city and her nation. "You don't understand," she finally said with quiet resignation.
"So explain it to me." Sunset's words came out as almost a threat.
And the Princess sighed heavily.
Her magic reached out to pull closed a heavy set of drapes - and in the same moment, so did every other pair in the library. Each of the fleet of windows was closed off, shutting out the exterior light and leaving them both in twilit shadow. "You are a pony," she began as she walked away from Sunset, moving towards the center of the room. Celestia's voice was steady and flat - bedrock. "To be a princess is to give that up. To have a life that is no longer your own. Every word, every action - even those you think are not observed - must be chosen with thoughtful care. You understand the power of a princess' words, but not the reason." The room's shadows were pushed back as Celestia started to glow. Not her horn or her magic, but her. "The mistake you and so many others make is that you believe Equestria serves its Princess. Some get closer, saying it's the other way around, and the Princess serves Equestria." The glow intensified - candle to lantern to bonfire. Sunset was forced to squint as Princess Celestia became to bright to look at directly. "The truth is that I am not Princess Celestia. I am Equestria. I am the Sun. And my life is not mine to live - it is to ensure Equestria serves her ponies."
Celestia stood triumphant - regal - glowing. Not like the sun but as the Sun. Everything else in the room was blanked out, washed clean by the power and radiance she projected almost as intensely as the force of her personality.
Then another glow pushed back. Fire burned as a barely contained reaction of magic and science ignited the air between the pony and the Princess. Without wards, without preparations, Sunset Shimmer recast her spell and recreated the Sun in miniature between them.
A panicked Celestia whirled around and reached out with her magic, dimming as she redirected her power to contain the blaze - just as Sunset knew she would. And with no need to worry herself over control, Sunset poured every ounce of magic she could into feeding her sun.
"Sunset! What are you--"
"YOU'RE WRONG." The little unicorn shouted over the roar of the star. "And even if you're right, you aren't about her! You may be the Princess and Equestria and the Sun, but Cadance is Love! You declared her that yourself!" She tried to glare at Celestia, but the brightness between them was too much. All she could do was pinch her eyes tight and try not to go blind. "She might be a princess but she doesn't have to live her life the way you live yours! And I won't either!"
"Sunset, stop--"
But Sunset didn't listen. "You're always so damn sure that your way is the only way! You're always so sure you're right!" Celestia's grip on the fireball slackened a little when Sunset said that, letting a bit of scorching heat leak free. White marble was raked by flame, leaving a sooty slash across the floor. "Cadance is going to prove you wrong, then I'm going to prove you wrong once I'm a princess too!"
"Sunset Shimmer!"
"AND YOU CAN'T STOP ME."
Princess Celestia's magic stopped trying to contain the small sun and instead crushed in on it. Like a pair of hooves clapping together, her magic compressed inwards with overwhelming force. Sunset's little sun briefly deformed against the golden magic before being snuffed out. The power backwashed - sending out a shockwave of air, heat, and sound that threw papers around and blew most of the drapes open - and backlashed - sending Sunset Shimmer sprawling on the floor with a stinging vibration that went all the way down her horn, through her brain and into her spine.
It took nearly a minute for the ringing echo to fade from their ears, and another one for the scattered pages to settle to the floor. Amidst the sound of fluttering paper, Princess Celestia carefully crossed the space and tried to help her student up.
Sunset ignored her hoof, choosing to wobble up on her own.
They exchanged looks for some time - one defiant (and squinting against lingering afterimages), one pitying - before Celestia broke the silence. "I want you to have a long and happy life, Sunset Shimmer. I wish Cadance could have one as well, but we do not choose the direction that Harmony moves in. We simply bear the consequences of it."
"You're wrong," Sunset spat, not giving ground.
And Princess Celestia hung her head. "I have been wrong before. But I do not think I am now." A heavy sigh - and her head rose up again. "Take the rest of the day for yourself, my brilliant student. That was quite a powerful display and I expect you need some time to recover." She paused before - with a slight glimmer in her eye - added, "And that includes fencing practice."
It had probably been meant as a joke. Deep down, Sunset knew that. But she still glared venom at the Princess. "You're wrong," she repeated, throat raw and voice weak.
"I wish I was." And the Princess smiled a sad, patronizing smile.
Sunset wasn't sure if the bleachers being full was good or bad.
On the positive side, it meant more eyes watching what was about to happen. (Her victory, she hoped.) It would only help her to have news of the duel spread far and wide through the School and through Canterlot. On the other hoof, even the great Sunset Shimmer wasn't immune to stage fright and what she was doing was most assuredly dangerous. Even her plan aside, this was going to be her first real fencing bout and one with very high stakes to boot.
Gliding Moth had done her best to prepare Sunset. It wasn't enough and they both knew it, but the mare had schooled Sunset with the ferocity of a Royal Guard drill instructor with ginger up his butt. The training had left Sunset exhausted and sore, but at least nominally ready. With luck, she wouldn't embarrass either of them.
(Sunset did feel a little bad about what was going to happen and that Gliding was probably going to get caught in the fallout. It couldn't be helped and sacrifices had to be made, but a little part of Sunset earnestly hoped it wouldn't hurt Gliding too bad.)
There were about two hundred ponies in the bleachers ready for the show - and a roughly equal number milling around the gymnasium, pretending to be doing other things while they just happened to be watching. Most notable was the ersatz Royal Box that had been created in the upper-center of the bleachers: Princess Celestia, Princess Cadance, and a good dozen bodyguards creating an impenetrable halo of safety around the alicorns. (Cadance didn't look particularly happy about that distance, but she also looked worried at the match itself.) (Princess Celestia remained coolly impassive at both.)
Their field of battle was a little pathetic in Sunset's mind: a string of padded mats to form the strip they would be fighting on, situated about ten body lengths from the stands. (The distance partially to provide a good view for everypony watching, partially because they had to set up on the other side of the jogging track that went around the outer edge of the gym.)
Blueblood stood smugly at the strip, watching Sunset's approach with Hearth's Warming glee. Beside him stood the others involved: Gliding Moth, acting as Sunset's second; Blueblood's butler Posh, acting as his; and Professor Trilby, the weak-willed teacher who was the fencing team's coach and referee for the duel.
Trilby adjusted his namesake hat (not that it helped much - it shared the same drab brown color as his fur and the two blended into each other) before casting an amplifier spell so the crowd could hear him. "Thank you all for coming. By agreement, the two contestants for this duel will be using the foil and abiding by the standard fencing rules thereof. The match will be to a regulation fifteen points, played across three three-minute rounds. Should neither reach fifteen points by the end of time, the one with the greater number shall be declared the winner."
Sunset rolled her eyes and fought the urge to tell Trilby to get on with it. Even she knew it was unwise to sass the referee, but his repeating of fencing 101 was tiresome on her already jangling nerves.
"Each competitor will now inspect the equipment and approve its usage."
That was what she had been waiting for. Sunset tried to remain casual as she first looked over her own gear. It was all school property, taken from the fencing team's communal equipment as she had none of her own. Padded vest for her torso - check. Mask with mesh over her face, split at the top to allow her horn to stick through and with a padded gorget to protect her neck - check. And then the foil itself. It was plain and generic but effective enough. Beyond the traditional (and featureless) grip and guard where her magic was allowed to grasp it extended a length of square steel - roughly as wide as a toothpick, a bit longer than her leg, and ending in a protective rubber tip. Sunset's body had accumulated quite a few bruises over the last two weeks from Gliding's training, serving a strong reminder that even if it was blunt and cushioned, a metal stick jabbing into you hurt.
But Sunset's review of her own materials was quick and cursory. No, it was looking at Blueblood's equipment that she was eager for. They traded places and as he inspected hers, she looked his over. The vest and mask were much the same - made of higher quality materials and bearing his cutie mark but fundamentally identical - but the blade? It was totally unlike her generic loaner. The grip was carved from teak and inlaid with finely-spun silver threads to better conduct unicorn magic. The guard was featureless - as required by the rules so a blade wouldn't catch on any ornamentation - but the interior dazzled with the brilliant blue of lapis lazuli. As for the blade itself, it was proper regulation now. But the edges suggested it had once indeed been a proper weapon. They were rounded rather than proper square, suggesting a cutting edge that had been ground down to be blunted and safe. It was an heirloom and likely older than any ten ponies in the room (save Celestia) combined.
Sunset held it in her magic, turning it slowly to examine the craftsmanship. At least, outwardly. What wasn't seen was the extra magic she was casting at the same time. A curse or a jinx on the blade would be discovered, of course. That kind of trick had been tried centuries earlier and was watched for. No, Sunset simply channeled a bit of heat into the blade itself. Not much - a strong heat would make the metal glow and give everything away, or the radiating waste heat would be detectable from a distance. But enough to make it sizzle a little. Just enough to set up her plan.
Gear inspected, the two traded back without a word and took to their ends of the strip. Gliding helped Sunset don her vest and mask, ensuring they were secure. "Remember," she lectured, "He's weakest on the riposte. He overcommits and that will give you an opening." She gave Sunset a companionable pat on the shoulder before withdrawing to the side.
All Sunset could do was give Gliding a nod in reply.
Across the strip, Blueblood stood ready. The wire mesh mask concealed his expression, but Sunset was pretty sure it was some variation on being a smug jerk.
Trilby stomped his hoof once, bringing the crowd to silence. He waited, eyes going back and forth to the two combatants. And he waited. And then looked at Sunset. "It is customary to salute your opponent before beginning."
A moment passed. And Sunset hovered her foil up before her in a salute. Blueblood - having waited for her - did the same.
That satisfied Trilby. "En garde!"
Both of them moved to their ready positions - that awkward hoof-over-hoof pose to minimize her forward profile. Sunset's muscles ached. She had spent so much time in the unnatural position over the last two weeks it was almost automatic - but that didn't mean it didn't hurt to hold. Foils floated into place, bobbing just before them at the ready.
"Prêts?" Trilby looked to Blueblood, then to Sunset. Neither moved.
"Allez!" And Trilby took a step backwards to be sure he was out of their way.
At the command, Blueblood twitched slightly to his left - and Sunset's foil moved to intercept his attack. None came. Just the distinct feeling of Blueblood's widening grin.
He twitched again to the left and this time Sunset didn't bite on the feint. She held firm, foil floating dead center before her.
A few seconds ticked by as the tension and anticipation rose to a fever pitch.
Then several more passed with no motion before it occurred to Sunset that Blueblood wanted her to make the first move. He certainly wasn't afraid, but he was probably at least uncertain. He didn't know how much she'd learned from Gliding, and didn't want to take the chance that she was suddenly as much a natural prodigy at fencing as she was with everything else she set her mind to. And as a result? He was playing directly into the exact tactic Sunset wanted.
So she obliged him. The strike was as basic as it could be: a straight thrust at his leading shoulder. Sunset was certain it wouldn't hit, but if he was weakest on the riposte she needed to give him an attack to counter.
Blueblood took the bait. His foil batted Sunset's to the side before driving hard towards her center mass. And Gliding was right: he left himself wide open. All Sunset had to do was move to evade his strike and then Blueblood's entire left side was exposed. It was everything she could have asked for and Sunset's brilliant analytical mind took it all in instantly.
The problem, of course, was that there was a vast gulf between spotting the opportunity and taking it. Sunset had always disdained the physical - why have magic if you were going to resort to brute force like a mud pony? - and two weeks of intense training was not enough to overcome that. Blueblood, on the other hoof, was fit and practiced. She recognized the flaw in his technique but he moved too fast. Sunset knew she had to dodge - she simply couldn't do it quickly enough. Even through the padded vest she could feel the impact of his foil's tip against her chest.
"Halt!" Trilby stomped his hoof. Both competitors drew back and the audience quietly applauded. "Point for Blueblood."
Sunset tried very hard not to seethe. It was just one point. She could do this. If not beat him, at least make it competitive.
"En garde!" They took their positions. "Prêts?" Into their ready stances. "Allez!"
This time neither hesitated. There was no careful gauging and testing of one another, and absolutely no uncertainty of skill levels. Blueblood stabbed forward with the same speed as before. Sunset's foil flicked to parry him away - and he ignored it, getting past her guard before she could even begin the motion. Once more, she felt the hard impact against her padding.
"Halt!" Another stomp punctuated the extremely brief exchange. "Point for Blueblood." More quiet applause and another return to their starting positions.
"En garde!" To positions. "Prêts?" At the ready. "Allez!"
Sunset was in motion early - almost too early, on the edge of drawing a penalty. Trilby didn't call her on it, though, and even if he had she was already moving. If defense didn't work, Sunset could beat Blueblood to the punch and strike before he was ready.
Except he was ready. Her attack was parried with almost lazy ease before Blueblood's foil struck Sunset in her leading shoulder, drawing a grimace as he hit one of the spots most bruised in her training.
"Halt! Point for Blueblood."
Sunset fought the urge to pull off her mask and throw it at Blueblood. She was certain he was wearing that smug grin behind his own mask, and it was trivial to calculate the amount of force she'd need to cave the mesh in to break his snout.
"En garde!" To positions. "Prêts?" At the ready. "Allez!"
Blueblood twitched slightly to his left. This time, Sunset fully took the bait and moved her foil to parry. That, in turn, left her completely open and Blueblood jabbed that same bruised spot.
"Halt!"
Sunset reeled backwards, grabbing the bruise and rubbing it through her vest.
"Point for Blueblood."
And her boiling anger continued to rise.
"En garde!" "Prêts?" "Allez!" "Halt! Point for Blueblood."
"En garde!" "Prêts?" "Allez!" "Halt! Point for Blueblood."
The crowd's polite applause disappeared into an awkward silence as Sunset was comprehensively dismantled.
"En garde!" "Prêts?" "Allez!" "Halt! Point for Blueblood."
"En garde!" "Prêts?" "Allez!" "Halt! Point for Blueblood."
By point eight, Blueblood was grandstanding. He was visibly strutting on the strip, passing up obvious openings just so he could bat away Sunset's attacks and counter-attacking to keep her off-balance as she struggled to defend. It was working, too - not only was Sunset physically outmatched but her temper was running hot as Celestia's sun and making her even sloppier.
Point nine stopped halfway with a yellow card as Sunset lunged at Blueblood and stepped off the strip. Just a warning, but it was enough to light a match.
Throwing off her mask, Sunset charged to get nose-to-nose with Trilby. "Out of bounds?!"
The weasel-eyed mediocre academic cringed back as he always did.
"I was nowhere near out!" Sunset glared death, the force of her anger enough to cow the teacher-turned-judge.
Until he looked back. Trilby's eyes flickered away from Sunset to the crowd. To a mass of his students; his teaching peers; to the Princesses watching a full grown stallion be verbally beaten down by a teenage filly half his size. That, it seemed, was enough to give him a little confidence and his opal gray magic levitated up a red card. "P-Penalty point to Blueblood," he pronounced with no small amount of fear. "Next violation will disqualify you."
Sunset glared at him again - and he didn't meet her eyes. "...Fine." She knew a losing battle and returned to her position.
Two more points and time ran out for the first round. A one minute break between wasn't much, but Sunset needed the breather as both competitors withdrew to their sideline. She took a deep drink from a water bottle as soon as her mask was off - and found Gliding Moth beside her when the bottle lowered again.
"Eleven-nil," pronounced the older unicorn in her annoying accent. "If you are lulling him into a false sense of security, I commend you on your dedication. I haven't ever seen a humiliation this one-sided."
Sunset's reply was merely a frustrated grunt.
Gliding paid her no mind. "You said you had a plan. Is this it, or have you yet to unleash your masterstroke?"
Another swig from the water bottle. "I have a plan," Sunset firmly stated. "And it's still mostly on track."
"I hope for both our sakes it is. I banked my own status on your success," Gliding reminded her.
Sunset muttered angrily - but Trilby's stomp to signal the end of the break preempted any further response.
They returned to their spots, masks on and foils up.
"En garde!"
Sunset took a deep breath to try and focus again.
"Prêts?"
Her eyes locked on Blueblood, watching for any little movement he made that might hint at what he would do. An opening, a weakness, something so she could drag this out more.
"Allez!"
Sunset surged forwar--
"Halt!"
Sunset dropped her foil, magic cutting out as he hit her in that same damn bruise before she could even fully extend her weapon and a jolt of pain shot through her.
"Point for Blueblood."
This time though, Sunset's anger evaporated rather than lit. Her breath hitched as Blueblood pulled his foil back and she spotted a tiny hint of silver on the end - the protective rubber tip had started to give way. The heat she'd applied to the blade before the match had weakened it and now the repeated impacts had let it break through.
So it was time for phase two.
"En garde!" To positions. "Prêts?" At the ready. "Allez!"
Blueblood's foil bobbed side to side mockingly, daring Sunset to try another attack.
Her foil stayed still. Instead, she attacked a different way. "You've been pretty quiet, Blueblood. I was expecting more banter from you."
"An exterminator doesn't talk to the pests," he sneered back.
"You never had a problem talking to me before."
Trilby's magic grabbed the red card out of his shirt - but Blueblood raised his hoof to stop him. "No. Let her talk. I don't want to give her the excuse that she lost on penalties instead of to me." The card lowered.
"It's going to be a glorious win, isn't it?" Sunset fired off another verbal stab. "It's pretty obvious who's the expert and who's the helpless novice."
Blueblood snorted. "If you're trying to goad me into making a mistake, it won't work. I already gave you every opening possible and you weren't able to capitalize on any of them."
"Yeah. You're quicker. And stronger."
"And better," Blueblood added with just a little bit of sing-song in his voice.
Sunset stuck out her tongue at him, even if he couldn't see it through the mask. "After this, I'm never skipping gym again. But none of your advantages matter. Because I know that I can win."
She didn't get a proper answer - just an amused snort.
Her foil rose slightly, coming square center in front of her mask and pointing directly at Blueblood. "I just need to score one point."
"And then only be down twelve to one?" Blueblood mimicked her stance, putting his foil unwisely at eye level. It gave Sunset a perfect look at the tip - at how the blunt square steel underneath was poking through the partially melted rubber. One more good hit and it would punch through.
Trilby's eyes widened as he spotted it too. "Hal--"
Blueblood's head snapped to glare. "I said let her talk!"
"But Prince--"
Both Sunset and Blueblood shouted in unison. "Shut UP!"
And Trilby cringed away.
"One point," Sunset reiterated.
"So you're giving up at thirteen-nil. Good to know." Blueblood scoffed. "Deep down I knew you were a quitter."
Behind the mask, Sunset's eyes narrowed. "One. Point."
"So come and take it, Miss Shimmer."
A moment of tension passed.
Then - she lunged. Despite Gliding lecturing her not to (and leaving bruises to show why she shouldn't), Sunset lunged. Rather than attack purely with her magic, she dove forward with all her might and tried to get her foil in to hit Blueblood before he could react.
It was in vain, of course. He was physically her superior and knew she was coming. He struck too - ignoring her attack to hit her instead and end the point before she could reach him. She dove right into his blade.
On contact, the rubber tip on the end of Blueblood's foil gave way just as Sunset had planned. It was the perfect finale and would solidify her victory: an unsafe weapon making a superficial injury. A little bit of blood for drama and Sunset could turn Blueblood's greatest strength against him: his social standing. Princess Celestia wouldn't protect him after he'd visibly bullied and injured her in front of a crowd. And where she went, so did those nobles Blueblood relied on so much.
It was a perfect plan.
Right up until it wasn't.
Sunset threw her entire weight directly into Blueblood's weapon. The protective tip broke and exposed steel. He had been aiming for that repeatedly bruised spot, hitting her in the same place he had seven of the last nine times. She had expected the squared edge of the blade to nick her neck and make a messy but trivial wound. But her violent movement spoiled both of their aims and instead Blueblood found the weakest point in her padding: the seam of the vest where the neck met the shoulder, painfully shown to her two weeks earlier by Gliding Moth.
Both competitors froze in the moment of contact.
The first clue Sunset had that something was wrong was how Blueblood's magic cut out. He didn't withdraw after the touch and return to his en garde line. Instead he released the foil but it didn't fall to the floor. Brain screaming signals that something wasn't right, Sunset turned her head to look. And that was when she realized that even though the foil was blunt, it was still a pin-width of steel she had thrown herself into. Now it was sticking out of her subclavian muscle like a macabre flag.
She took a breath. The pain of a hoof's worth of metal being embedded into her body hit and she dropped to the ground.
In stories, Sunset would have passed out. Her eyelids would have fluttered for a moment before she keeled over, only to regain consciousness in a hospital bed.
She did not.
No, she had the pleasure of being awake for every moment. Sure, the memories were hazy - circulatory shock does that to you - but she was awake and aware throughout the entire ordeal. It wasn't until the doctors started with the anesthetic before surgery that she finally passed out.
Her life had been saved by one of Princess Celestia's bodyguard - an earth pony member of the Household Battalion who had trained as a medic. While everypony else had panicked, the mare had surged down from the bleachers and to Sunset's side. Precisely what she had done was unclear - Sunset had bigger things on her mind at the time - but there was pressure and there was pain and there was survival. It had bought enough time for Princess Celestia to snap out of her shocked daze and teleport all three of them to Canterlot General's emergency room.
From there? Panic and shouting and surgery, with a quick spell putting Sunset under as the doctors swarmed over her. She came to several hours later with heavy bandages across her barrel and Cadance dozing in a nearby chair.
The wound had been bad - but not as bad as it could have been. Blueblood's strike had pierced her just above the right deltoid, cutting into the supraspinatus before entering her chest cavity. The muscle took the brunt of the strike and only a little had penetrated her right bronchial tube. ('Only a little' was all the doctors would tell Sunset, and imagining how much steel that might constitute made her now unperforated guts writhe.) Battlefield medicine, prompt delivery to the ER, and the kind of medical aggression that only a fearful Princess could cause had ensured the damage was minimized. They said Sunset would be in the hospital for a week and have at least another month beyond that to recover - but she was expected to fully recover. She would likely have a small scar where she had been stabbed but no other long term damage was expected.
The interim would be a little awkward, however. To let her lung heal, she was on a ventilator for several days - which proved the first time in history where something made Sunset Shimmer shut up.
Visits were awkward. Both Princesses came by frequently - Cadance more often than Celestia - but neither was willing to talk about what was going on outside her hospital room. When Sunset had used a piece of paper to demand details, Princess Celestia had gently admonished her with a simple "Concentrate on healing, my brilliant student. The rest of the world can wait." And that did nothing for Sunset's attitude.
After five days, she finally had the tube removed. Doctor's orders were to minimize talking, but the moment Cadance came in?
"Hey." Sunset's first words were croaked out, throat dry and cracked even beyond the deep soreness.
Cadance didn't care. She rushed over to hug her marefriend, wings tenting the hospital bed. Sunset hugged her back, and then there were tears for both of them. They eventually separated but Cadance's look of mixed joy and concern didn't go away. "Do you need anything? Something to drink? You sound parched."
Sunset shook her head and motioned to a cup of ice chips at her bedside. "So. What's up?"
"Um. Classes are going okay, but I don't think that's what you mean." Cadance bit her lip, visibly mulling over just what to reveal. "Okay. I'll tell you if you tell me one thing first. Was this your plan?"
For a moment, Sunset hesitated. She knew she would have to walk a careful line with this and stay truthful. (The truth was easier to keep straight than a lie, after all.) "Being stabbed? No." That was mostly true, at least. "Losing? Yes."
There was relief on Cadance's face, then confusion. "Your plan was losing?"
Sunset nodded before rasping out an explanation. It took her some time - frequent pauses were unavoidable with her current condition. "Blueblood's strength was his status. Nobles follow titles and lineages first. If he had that, he was always going to be dangerous. Nopony wanted to get involved when we were equals. But if I was weak and he was beating me up, opinion would turn against him. The Princess wouldn't protect him, and nopony at court who wants her favor would support him."
The gears turned in Cadance's head as she grasped what Sunset had done. "...So you took him on in a fight when you knew he would beat you badly."
Another nod from the unicorn. "And he looks like a bully. He couldn't help but gloat, which is what I wanted."
'Happy' did not apply to Cadance's expression. But at a stretch, 'accepting' could have. "Well, you'll be pleased to know it worked."
Sunset tried to respond, but it just came out as a rasp.
Cadance levitated her over a few ice chips to suck on before continuing. "Obviously there was an investigation into what happened. Princess Celestia led it herself and I don't think I've ever seen her this determined about something." She paused to lift a few more ice chips - which Sunset declined. "In the end it was decided that what happened was just a terrible accident. If Blueblood did something to the rubber end of his foil, there's no proof. The best guess is that there was a manufacturing defect that made it break, since Princess Celestia analyzed it herself and said there was no evidence of physical or magical tampering."
That made Sunset's heart stop for a moment. She knew - knew - there was no way that the Princess could have missed the melted rubber. Sunset had been careful and any evidence that she'd magically affected the foil could have been excused as her lifting to examine it prior to the match - but for the Princess to declare there was no evidence at all? It meant that Celestia had to suspect what Sunset had done. Or maybe that she thought Blueblood had done it and she was covering for him. Either way? Not ideal.
But Cadance didn't notice that her marefriend had frozen up for a moment. "So no charges. But you were right and Blueblood lost a lot over this. Everypony saw how he was acting and things only got worse when Auntie started the investigation." A brief flash of annoyance crossed Cadance's face. "One of your friends at school, Clear Sky, testified she overheard a confrontation between you and Blueblood a few months ago."
It took a moment for Sunset to remember - then she connected the dots with the pink mare who had witnessed Blueblood threatening Sunset after the harvest festival date. (A little voice in the back of her head scoffed at the term 'friend'.) "Oh, uh, yeah..."
"A confrontation you told me was no big deal," Cadance thunderously reminded.
"It wasn't!" Sunset's voice broke painfully as she reflexively shouted. Any further objection she had was overridden by her now uncooperative throat - she could only grimace and rub her neck to try and soothe the pain.
Cadance took pity and didn't push the subject further. "Add to that your other fights with Blueblood and everypony thought it looked suspicious. He threatened you then provoked you until you lost your temper. Since you challenged him, he got to pick a contest he knew you couldn't beat him in." She hesitated. "Then there was how the pony who taught you how to fence and was your second also happened to be his assistant captain."
"Gliding?" Sunset barely managed the word.
And Cadance grimly nodded. "I know she was only trying to help, but from the outside it looked bad."
Those dots were easy to connect. If Blueblood had coordinated the whole thing, who better to teach Sunset than somepony who knew Blueblood's strengths and was loyal to him? Gliding could easily have taught Sunset bad habits to leave her vulnerable or neglect key parts of the sport to undermine her already poor skills. And as Sunset's second for the match, Gliding could have easily been part of Blueblood's theoretical conspiracy to sabotage the equipment.
Of course she wasn't because the conspiracy was Sunset's rather than Blueblood's, but that was beside the point and not something an outside observer would know.
Sunset tried to say something again, but her still raw throat didn't let anything out but a rasp.
Cadance offered up more ice - which was taken - before continuing. "So there might not have been any evidence that Blueblood did anything, but public opinion found him guilty anyway." She hesitated briefly. "The castle staff have been talking, since it's all the nobles have been gossiping about for the last week. Most of them think he's guilty because it's the sort of thing they would have done."
"Sounds right." Sunset managed, at least, to chuckle normally.
"So Princess Celestia handled it." Cadance frowned. "I don't think it's right since there's no proof he did anything, but she suggested he leave Canterlot while the rumor mill cools down. She set him up as a part of a diplomatic mission to Farasi. He leaves tomorrow." Her voice softened at that, dropping to a near-whisper. "He won't be back for at least two years."
While Cadance seemed sad? It was all Sunset could do not to cheer. (Or probably try and cheer before croaking and hurting herself.) Blueblood was gone. By the time he could return, she'd be a princess.
Cadance caught Sunset's smile - and frowned more. "There's others who suffered, too. Gliding doesn't have Blueblood's connections and everypony's just as suspicious of her." The pink princess fixed Sunset with a piercing glare. "She's gone. She left two days ago. Officially, she's taking a sabbatical for her mental health after the accident and will come back to classes at the start of next year. But I talked with her while she was packing and I don't think Gliding is going to. She's afraid this is going to follow her around and ruin any chance she had for a normal life in Canterlot."
Both the news and Cadance's stare made Sunset grimace. "Did she say where she was going?"
"She mentioned joining the Guard." Cadance's voice was even - too even, in much the same way Celestia's often was when she held her emotions in check. "By the time what happened is forgotten, she's going to be too old to come back to Celestia's School. Blueblood was about to graduate and will probably get his diploma, but Gliding had another two years and now she's lost that."
It was regretful but not unexpected. Sunset had always suspected Gliding would be caught in the fallout. She'd hoped it wouldn't be this bad but reality disagreed. Mentally Sunset made a note that once she became a princess, she would summon Gliding Moth and make a public announcement to clear her name. (Perhaps even give her a position of status, if she had joined the military. Being part of the honor guard of a new princess would rehabilitate any lingering issues.)
"Professor Trilby is gone as well." Cadance continued to frown and lock her accusing eyes on Sunset. "When Princess Celestia was questioning him about what happened, he confessed that he had seen the broken tip on Blueblood's foil before the last point." Something flashed across her face - Sunset couldn't tell if it was anger or pity. "He tried to defend himself by saying both of you insisted on continuing but that just made Auntie angrier. She said..." Cadance paused for a breath, eyes closing at the memory. "She said that the only reason he wasn't being arrested as an accessory was that you were going to heal. But that he was fired and that if she ever heard of him teaching in Equestria again, that she would personally visit anypony who hired him and recount why he shouldn't be allowed near students."
That, Sunset felt significantly less conflicted about. She barely knew Trilby - aside from that he was a weak-willed and unremarkable teacher - but that also meant she didn't care what happened to him. The destruction of his career was barely worth a mental shrug.
But not to Cadance. She paused to take in Sunset's lack of reaction before summarizing things with accusatory intent. "Your plan got rid of Blueblood, and maybe that's a good thing. But you destroyed the lives of two innocent ponies, terrified Princess Celestia and I, and you could have died if you weren't so lucky."
There was a lot to unpack in that sentence: the concern for the danger Sunset had been in; the accusation of what she had indirectly done to Gliding and Trilby; the half-hearted acceptance of Blueblood's fate... But those weren't what struck Sunset first and foremost. It slipped out without her even thinking: "Princess Celestia was terrified?"
And Cadance's tone softened to surprise and pensive concern. "She was, Sunset." She reached out, setting a gentle hoof on Sunset's uninjured shoulder. "She wouldn't say it, but I could tell how scared she was for you. And afterwards she put everything else aside to investigate what happened."
The image - of Celestia pacing in the hospital, awaiting word of Sunset's condition and of her leading an inquisition with fiery eyes - rolled back and forth in Sunset's mind, trying to square itself with what she knew of the Princess. It didn't quite work: Princess Celestia was impassive at the best of times. Her reacting like that had to have been a show. There was no downplaying blood being spilled in a fight between her personal student and her 'nephew', so she had opted instead for the worried maternal route. It made sense. It was politically sound.
But it was still heartwarming, no matter what Sunset's cold calculations said.
That brief heart-flutter went unnoticed by Cadance, however. She had other issues on her mind. "When I thought it was an accident or that Blueblood had caused it, that was one thing. But was this really your plan, Sunset?" There was that even tone again - the neutrality of holding herself back.
Sunset could have reversed course. She could have denied it. Convincing Cadance of that would have been difficult but it wasn't impossible. (Not for Sunset Shimmer.) That was not, however, the path she chose. "I didn't plan all of it. Not getting hurt. Not Gliding." Those parts, at least, were true enough. "But yes. Blueblood had to go. I had to dig out his roots."
"Maybe he did." It spoke volumes that soft-hearted Cadance allowed that much. "And maybe you had to be aggressive to be sure. But you didn't have to hurt other ponies to do it, Sunset."
"Sometimes ponies get hurt," Sunset rasped before she reached for more ice chips.
That did little to placate Cadance. "That doesn't make it right." She bit her lip, caught in hesitation before pulling off the bandage. (Metaphorically.) "And I'm not okay with it, Sunset. I need to think about things."
Sunset swallowed the ice abruptly - it hurt all the way down her throat. "Things?" Her scratchy voice couldn't fully express her concern - more accurately her fear - at those words.
"All of this," Cadance said with ominous vagueness. "Your plan. About the plan when you betrayed your dads, too. What you intended to do, what actually happened, all of it. I need some time to think." She stood, stopping Sunset's heart.
Quickly, the unicorn's mind scrambled to retake control of the situation. "Princess Celestia would have done the same." And it was true - Sunset was sure of that. Celestia had been the one to teach Sunset the brutality of politics, after all.
The accusation-slash-defense got Cadance to pause before the door. She thought on it for just a moment before responding simply. "Then I'll have to think about her part in my life as well."
The next several days were quiet and Sunset realized for the first time what it felt like to be alone. She had been on her own before, sure, but not alone. Not in a place where she wanted company but was denied it. Her solitude had always been by choice and she had commanded companionship when ever she had felt like it.
Now? Cadance was off-limits and it made Sunset ache.
Timing made it even worse. Sunset had two lonely days in the hospital without visitors before being released into the care of Raven Inkwell. The rising star of Canterlot's administrative corps made apologies for Princess Celestia's absence - some thin excuse about a diplomatic emergency to the south with the hippogriffs - and escorted Sunset back to her rooms. The doctors still had her under strict orders to rest and recover for at least another week, so she was left there on her own.
That had been three days before Hearts and Hooves Day (and thus before today) - a fact that every member of Palace staff was abuzz about and there was no escape from. Love hung in the air like a stench, and Sunset Shimmer was alone.
She isolated herself. Part of it was the ordered rest - her voice was still scratchy and she found herself easily winded - but most of it was because Sunset was in no mood to deal with the current of romance that flowed under everything. Exempted from lessons, Sunset closed herself in her room with a pile of books and only opened the door for the twice daily delivery of her meals. That was why she even bothered responding to the evening knock after days of solitude.
It was not a plate of stuffed peppers with a side of cauliflower bites. It was Raven Inkwell, who looked about as comfortable as a dragon in a dress.
Connecting the dots was easy: Princess Celestia was back from her 'diplomatic mission' and wanted to talk. Cadance had probably told her everything and now they were going to have a tense discussion full of implied warnings and words that meant something else entirely. And Sunset was, bluntly, too damn tired for it. But she couldn't refuse, so she just sighed and sagged. "The Princess is summoning me?"
Raven nodded, eyes betraying a small amount of fear.
Wordlessly, Sunset stepped out and allowed herself to be escorted to the inevitable confrontation. She followed Raven through the upper portrait gallery, across the gatehouse causeway, past the diplomat's quarters, and to the Ruby Dinette. (Which, while it was a dinette was actually named for Lady Ruby Dinette, who had been ennobled by Princess Celestia approximately three generations earlier for Ruby's work in feeding the hungry of the then newly urbanized Manehatten.) The room was the crosspoint between cozy and fancy: broad windows overlooking the statue garden; ruby red drapes to match the room's name; rich cream carpet; a potted fiddle-leaf fig tree in each corner; and a walnut dining set made for four but set for two. But most importantly, there was the Princess.
A Princess. Cadance, to be precise.
Having the wrong alicorn waiting for her threw Sunset off her game and she froze in the doorway.
This, in turn, froze Cadance in place - she looked up to smile and was met with wide, shocked eyes that caused her to stop dead.
Raven Inkwell coughed awkwardly. "Miss Shimmer, your Highness."
Over the next minute, the two watched each other with anticipation, fear, and rising tension. Raven, meanwhile, stood around with growing unease, unable to leave because Sunset was standing in the doorway.
Cadance finally gave, coughing to clear her throat. "Can we talk, Sunset? Please?"
Spell broken, Sunset managed a nod and entered - allowing Raven to escape and close the door behind her.
Sunset approached the other place set at the table: Cadance hadn't used the normal Palace china for this. She'd opted instead for beige earthenware plates and unadorned flatware. It all had the tone of what a servant's place setting would be rather than one before a princess.
She sat and Cadance's horn lit. Far more stable than it had been months ago when lessons had started, Cadance lifted a bottle and poured them both a glass of sparkling water that smelled very slightly of berries. "Can we talk," she asked.
"You already said that," was Sunset's slightly too snappy retort.
Cadance flinched. "I--I did, didn't I."
A moment of unease.
"You can talk," Sunset said, guessing what was truly meant. "And I'll listen."
Cadance sighed. "Thank you." She shifted in her chair, trying to find physical comfort when she had none emotionally. "Dinner's going to be delivered in a little while - I asked them to give us some time first. But, um, there's bread," she noted with a point of her wing. The little basket off to the side did have some nice looking crusty bread with a small pot of butter beside it - but Sunset's attention was elsewhere. And so was Cadance's. "Maybe it's presuming, but it is Hearts and Hooves Day, so it didn't feel really right to not have dinner. And--"
"You're stalling." Sunset did her best to emulate that impassive Celestia voice and mostly succeeded.
"And I'm stalling." Cadance closed her eyes and took a long, deep breath. "I've been thinking, Sunset. I've been talking to ponies and thinking about everything, and I don't like a lot of it. You have a... a reputation."
An understatement. Sunset had no illusions about how she was regarded. The staff didn't like her, her classmates wanted to ride her tail to higher status, and while the nobility had sided with her against Blueblood, she knew they hated her because she would never be one of Them.
"But I already knew that. I got warned about you so many times..." She laughed, mostly to herself. "Everypony told me you were trouble and I ignored them."
Sunset tensed up. It didn't take a genius to see where things were going.
And Cadance soldiered on, barely looking at Sunset. "Then we met your father and you told him you had betrayed him. It wasn't just anger, either, Sunset. You enjoyed doing that. You liked hurting him." Sunset opened her mouth to respond - but Cadance raised a hoof to cut her off. "But after you told me about your father, I understood why you wanted to. I didn't approve, but it made sense. Then everything with Blueblood happened and I saw it repeat. You used the ponies around you to hurt him. Not just to have Blueblood leave us alone, but to destroy him as much as you could - even if it hurt others along the way." Cadance snorted. "And I'm almost okay with it, too, because I know what kind of a pony Blueblood is. That's the sad part. If you hadn't hurt Gliding Moth, I might have been able to justify what you did."
"I didn't mean to hurt Gliding." Sunset tried to get into the monologue to defend herself, but a brief and uncharacteristic glare from Cadance silenced the attempt.
"You still hurt her." Cadance's tone briefly turned ice cold - and then the moment of chill anger passed. "I talked with Princess Celestia about everything, including what you told me about your plan. She..." Cadance hesitated. "She agreed with you that sometimes a pony has to take unsavory actions to accomplish nobler goals. But she didn't think that what Blueblood did justified your actions to him."
Sunset wanted to roll her eyes. Of course Celestia would take Blueblood's side instead of hers.
Cadance paused, taking a sip of the fizzing water. "But I guess none of that matters because it isn't the question. It's if I can trust you anymore, Sunset. How do I know I'm not just some other plan of yours? How can I believe anything you say?"
Silently, inside her head, Sunset Shimmer was panicking. This was very close to the worst case scenario. Everything she had worked for over the last few months was hanging on her next few words - Cadance, being an alicorn, proving herself to Celestia... Her mind leapt into action, careening down a dozen different possible paths. Every one had pitfalls - a question that would end everything if Cadance asked it. Each one, Sunset tried to find branches that would avoid those traps and see her through.
And as her mind worked, her heart acted. "You can't."
Internally, she screamed at her own stupidity.
The answer, at least, seemed to throw Cadance off. "I can't?" There was an odd note of hope mixed in the confusion.
Sunset knew she was committed now - the response had been impulsive and foolish, but there were no take-backs. She could only go forward and hope. "No matter what I say to you, you're not going to be able to trust it. I could tell you the absolute truth and you'd still have good reason to doubt me."
"I don't want to doubt you, Sunset." Desperation edged into Cadance's tone. "Can't you... isn't there something?"
Sunset shook her head. "You believing me is up to you, Cadance, not me."
So she thought - and gave Sunset the chance to do some thinking of her own, trying to find a way out.
She didn't get very far before Cadance clapped her hooves once. "Alright. Sunset, I'm going to ask you a question. Tell me the truth when you answer, and I'll give you the benefit of the doubt going forward."
It was a critical lifeline. Sunset didn't point out the obvious flaw in Cadance's plan. "Just the benefit of the doubt." She snorted once, pulling the attention away from the fact that she could just lie. "I guess that's the best deal I can hope for."
Cadance's eyes locked with Sunset's - purple to teal. "Was being in a relationship with me part of a larger plan of yours."
The internal screaming started again. And once more, the heart acted and the truth slipped out where the mind flailed. "Yes and no."
Once more, Cadance was caught off guard. "What?"
"Yes and no," Sunset repeated, once more committed to her impulsive path. "Look, this is going to take a bit to explain. And it starts with telling you about something that only Princess Celestia and I know about." She took a deep drink of the water, preparing for what would be her longest period of speaking since the injury. "A few years ago, Princess Celestia took me deep into one of the castle's vaults. She was teaching me about artifacts and we went hooves-on with some of them. One that she showed me was a crystalline mirror made by Starswirl the Bearded. She said he had built it to serve as a dimensional portal, but that it hadn't worked right - it could only connect to a single alternate dimension and would only open when certain stellar configurations matched on both sides." Sunset chuckled a little. "He gave up on that and instead recycled the mirror for other functions, including using it as a divination aid. Princess Celestia meant for it to be a lesson in why not every experiment will succeed, but I found something more interesting when I looked into the mirror. It showed me my future self: as an alicorn and a princess." Another quick sip of water as her throat started to protest. "It wasn't just me, either - Princess Celestia saw it and she can verify the story. So I know that some day I'll get my wings, because Starswirl predicted it. Everything I've done since that day has been to make my vision come true. So yes, you were part of a larger plan. Everything I do is part of that plan."
There was a pause as Cadance waited to be sure Sunset was finished. Then the pink princess sucked in a breath through her teeth. "And what part do I play in that plan?"
Brain and heart fought inside Sunset for what her answer would be. She could tell Cadance everything - detail the plan and ask her to guide Sunset through the process to becoming an alicorn. But with the tension between them, it was just as likely - probably even more likely - that Cadance would refuse. And that would be the end of everything. Sunset would be back to where she started and even if it didn't turn Cadance into an enemy, she would never help Sunset again.
So there was only one way to answer. Thankfully, it was at least partially truth.
"Back on your second day here, when I apologized to you I said that we were going to have to learn to deal with each other." Sunset let a second pass, allowing Cadance to remember back those months ago. "That was true. The part I didn't say was that we need to learn to deal with each other because we're both going to live forever. The plan was to get to know the pony I'm going to be around for the next several centuries."
Cadance mulled those words over for a good minute before asking her follow-up. "And that was it?"
Sunset lamely shrugged and skirted the edge of a lie. "I won't deny that I wanted to evaluate if you would be a good ally. Princess Celestia and I don't always get along and I needed to know if you were going to parrot whatever she told you or think on your own."
And then she held her breath, because everything relied on Cadance's reaction.
It took another minute.
"I believe you." Cadance spoke slowly, choosing her words with thoughtful care as she looked at her water. "If what you're saying about that mirror is true, then getting to know me would make sense. You already know Princess Celestia but I would have been an unknown." She glanced at Sunset. "You're not really a fan of unknowns."
"I'm not," Sunset admitted with no shame.
The hint of brash confidence in Sunset's voice made Cadance smile a tiny bit. "I don't know if I can trust you, Sunset. But I said I'd give you the benefit of the doubt, and I will." She reached across the table, holding a hoof out to Sunset. "I want to get things back to how they were before this. I want to be normal again."
It took considerable restraint for Sunset to merely reach out and take Cadance's hoof rather than lunge for it.
They held on tight to one another. "Can we please be normal again?"
That pleading tone melted Sunset's heart and she couldn't suppress a smile. "I'd like that."
Then the trap snapped shut. Cadance still smiled wistfully at her, still had a voice soft and caring. But her words? "Then please don't do something like that again? We're supposed to be together and that means helping each other. We can't help if we don't communicate. That means no elaborate secret plans. We have to start talking to each other."
And Sunset was caught. She couldn't refuse Cadance - not without touching off an entirely new argument that would only go worse. But going along set up an entirely new set of complications and an extra layer of danger. Sunset didn't like that.
It wasn't often Sunset Shimmer could feel she'd lost.
"No more secret plans," Sunset agreed, even if she could taste a little bile. "I'll keep you in the loop with any new plans that I cook up." Again, a half-dodge. She said nothing of those already in play.
Cadance smiled, probably because she had won. "Thank you." She gave Sunset's hoof another pat before straightening up. "Now! Because I'm an optimist, our Hearts & Hooves Day dinner should be arriving any minute. We can get back to normal with a quiet romantic meal on a special holiday - just the two of us. Right, Sunny?"
It did sound really nice. But the devil often wore a pleasant face.
"Right, Caddy," Sunset said with a smile of her own.
Being with the Princess of Love on Hearts & Hooves Day was a magical experience. Sunset could say that with perfect confidence now. While things had started tense and rocky, dinner had given both of them the chance to ease into what had been before. Salad had been awkward but by the time the entree (couscous and goat cheese stuffed tomatoes) arrived they were talking and laughing as if nothing had happened.
Just thinking about it later made Sunset smile.
They had been together again. They had been - as Cadance put it - normal.
Getting there meant Sunset had lost, but that fact was only a tickle in the back of the unicorn's mind. That alone was a tribute to how special 'normal' was.
Dinner had passed into a laughter and smiling. It had led to returning to Sunset's rooms where the two had laid down by the fire and enjoyed a long evening of chatting about absolutely nothing. And in the end, it had turned into to them cuddled up together until morning.
But the problem with magical experiences is that they end. As does Hearts & Hooves Day. And when the magic passes, you're left with the bitter reality of life.
In this case, the bitter reality of the Princess of Love in a city having the romantic equivalent to a hangover.
Just as the holiday brought about a whirlwind of romance, love, and new couples, the aftermath was when everypony woke up the next morning to realize who they had gone to bed with. Even for those in a more stable relationship, it didn't take long for the high of the holiday to pass and the shine to come off the apple.
Not for Sunset and Cadance - they were fine. But all around them the spirit of love had faded into the reality of late winter days that were gray more often than they were sunny and to dealing with one's problems in the harsh light of life.
One particularly wry columnist in the Canterlot Herald had noted that the week after Hearts & Hooves was good for two things: cheap chocolate and filling the pocketbooks of divorce lawyers.
All of that negativity washed back on to Cadance and to say she was in a bad mood was understating things. The first two days hadn't been too bad, but the souring psychic environment kept mounting after that. All Sunset could do was try to boost Cadance's spirits and keep her mind occupied elsewhere.
It was eight days after Hearts & Hooves. The worst had passed and Cadance was starting to emerge from her brooding malaise. But that was emerging - not emerged.
"Go away, Sunset." Cadance grumbled, refusing to even look at her marefriend and instead morosely stared down at the city.
The plate of rose petal sandwiches with mustard on sour dough waved under Cadance's nose, held cheekily just out of range by Sunset's magic. "Come ooooooon, they're your faaaaaaavorite."
"I will beat you with a pillow."
Sunset paused. "A down pillow or one of the heavy foam ones that feels like a rock?"
Cadance tightly pursed her lips. "Which ever one you want to be beaten with the least."
"So I'll be beaten with your fluffy, pillow-like--" Sunset's smirking joke was interrupted as she devolved into a bout of rough coughing that interrupted her magic and sent the plate of sandwiches clattering to the floor.
That instantly changed Cadance's tune: she whipped around, leaving behind her dour staring out the window to be at Sunset's side. "Sunny? Breathe, Sunny. Take it slow."
Sunset held on to Cadance's shoulder, leaning into her as the spasm passed. "Sorry," she croaked. "Ow." She rubbed her chest, just below the puncture scar that was now mostly hidden by her fur. "Ow, that hurt."
Slowly, Cadance guided Sunset across the hall to a bench - the gatehouse causeway was not the most hospitable location, being little more than an elevated hallway that passed over the Palace's main gate, but the long passage was prime real estate for looking out the windows and down onto the city proper. It would have been a great location for meditative thinking if not for the constant hoof traffic between the two halves of the castle it connected. Still, it had good strong benches and decorative busts of ancient ponies scattered about.
Sitting on one of the benches (and beside a marble bust of Turbinado, the pony who discovered how to refine sugar), Sunset did as the doctors had instructed her to do in this situation and took several long, deep breaths. Each breath hurt, but each also forced the airway to expand and ease - like stretching a pulled muscle. After a few minutes, Sunset nodded that she was recovered.
The pause was needed. Time for both of their racing minds to slow; time for Cadance to focus on something else; time for Sunset to get out of the moment and away from her urge to be a smartass.
Conversation restarted quieter, with Cadance resting a hoof on Sunset's knee. "Everything alright now?" She got a nod back and continued. "I'm sorry, Sunny. I just can't... it's like I've lost the ability to see colors. Everything feels so gray and it's making me just-- just--" She devolved into a low, frustrated growl.
"I know." Sunset put her hoof on top of Cadance's. "I'm just trying to cheer you up."
"I know," Cadance said back with a soft smile.
Sunset clapped her hooves and stood. "How about this - we go out on the town."
And she was met with a deep frown. "Out into all of those ponies feeling miserable?"
"But we could be romantic!" Sunset spun, her face close to Cadance's. "We could go and have a nice dinner together! Be romantic! Like a--" She struggled to find a good metaphor.
Fortunately, Cadance was better at romantic wordplay. "Like a lighthouse beside a stormy sea?"
"Yes! That!" Sunset beamed as if she had thought of the line.
Still, Cadance was unconvinced and still frowned.
So Sunset moved in with her second volley. "I know just the place we can go before dinner, too. There's a certain flower shop we haven't visited in a while," she sing-songed. "If there's anywhere in Equestria that's still a bastion of love, it's got to be the place where ponies buy each other flowers."
A flash passed across Cadance's expression - one of hope and relief. "That's a great idea! You're right, there has to be a lot of love there still!"
And Sunset beamed even brighter, because this one she had thought of. "So come on! Let's go pay our favorite anti-social florist a visit."
To an outside observer - one who wasn't quite as in tune with the ebb and flow of the magic of love - it seemed a perfectly normal day. Winter Wrap-Up was just around the corner and the snow had started to melt in the sun. Temperatures still required dressing up - scarfs and boots, with Cadance also bringing her earmuffs - but there was a distinct undercurrent of warmth in the air that promised the weather would turn soon.
The streets of Canterlot were bustling. Unsurprising, considering it was just past noon on a Thursday. Most ponies were in their daily grind, creating the unusual situation of a princess being able to trot down the street without too much of a fuss. Sure there were looks and whispers, but ponies simply had lives to live and couldn't spare the time to gawk.
Side by side, Cadance and Sunset trotted along the slushy road, close enough to share a little body heat. Even though Sunset hadn't been this way in a few months and the streets of Canterlot were a winding maze, she remembered the path to the flower shop well. They'd take a right up ahead at Hammer & Nails Farriers, then go up Oak Street and past Cotton Candy's Confections to--
Sunset's mental navigating was interrupted by the loud crash of something wood hitting cobblestone. Specifically, the drawer from a dresser that had been ejected out of a third story window, hitting the street in a shower of splinters and clothes. It stopped both mares in their tracks - and instantly brought about the appearance of the four Royal Guards who had been following them in civilian clothes. Two unicorns threw up defensive shields, while the earth pony leapt in front to body-block and the pegasus did the same to guard their rear.
It was all for nothing, however, as a moment later an earth pony mare leaned out the window. "AND THERE'S YOUR SHIRTS!"
On the street below, the pegasus stallion she'd nearly hit with the drawer used his wings to make a rude gesture back up.
All four bodyguards relaxed, as did Sunset. Just a lover's spat, not an assassination attempt.
Cadance did not relax.
Sunset only looked away for a few seconds, but by the time her eyes went back to her marefriend? Cadance was twitching. Violently standing still in the street, limbs shaking and eyes filled with frustrated rage.
"Uh, Caddy?"
Cadance said nothing back.
"Caddy?" Sunset waved a hoof in front of Cadance's face and got no response.
Meanwhile, the two ponies were still arguing.
"And what, your sister coming by means I'm supposed to drop everything? I spent weeks planning that trip!" The stallion stomped in anger, narrowly missing one of his own scattered shirts. "You can't expect me to throw away my only time off between now and next winter with no notice!"
The mare yelled back with equal rage. "I expect you to show a little compassion! You know what happened to Aqua's husband! She needs comfort right now, not you rolling your eyes and whining about going to Baltimare!"
"It was two days, Star!" His voice echoed off the tightly packed buildings of the urban street. "You could have handled your sister's--"
"DON'T YOU DARE SAY IT."
The stallion snarled. "Your sister's road apples."
Another dresser drawer came hurling out the window and shattered messily on the street. A number of hats joined the shirts on the cobbles.
The guards looked at each other.
"Should we stop them?"
"No way, I'm not getting involved in a domestic. Nopony ever wins and you're just begging to get hurt."
"The Princess is looking pretty uncomfortable. If we're not gonna stop it, we should get her out of here."
"We go where she goes, not the other way around, dingus. Unless she's in danger, she decides when we leave."
It was all white noise to Sunset, though. "Cadance, come on. We should go. This--" and she waved a hoof at the argument. "--Isn't good for you."
Cadance said nothing, but her eyes... Her eyes burned holes in the two arguing ponies.
"AND ANOTHER THING!"
The hairs in Sunset's mane stood on end as she felt something pulse in the air. None of the others noticed it - not the guards, not the arguing couple - but Sunset could feel it like an electric current across her skin. She backed two steps away.
"IF I HAVE TO CLEAN UP YOUR HOOF SHAVINGS OUT OF THE SINK ONE MORE TIME--"
From her position, Sunset watched as a shimmer of energy washed across Cadance's flank. Her cutie mark pulsed, throbbing like the beat of a heart.
"WELL MAYBE YOU WON'T HAVE TO WORRY ABOUT THAT BECAUSE I'M--"
Cadance's horn lit. Baby blue magic formed two halves of a heart in the air - one jaggedly broken down the middle. She pinched her eyes shut and the two halves slammed together to make a whole, sending a wave of magic across the scene.
Both arguing ponies stopped mid-shout. Both blinked.
"I... Star..." The stallion swallowed roughly, voice suddenly calm. "Look, I'm sorry. I know the timing wasn't great, but--"
"But you need some 'me' time," completed the mare in the window, apologetic and soft. "Everypony does. I should have been more understanding. I just wish you had talked to me sooner."
Below, the stallion sighed. "You're right, I should have. Look, can we...?"
She smiled down at him. "Talk about this? I can't say you should talk to me more and then tell you no when you want to talk. I love you, Swift. We shouldn't throw away six years over one fight."
The stallion - Swift - nodded. "Let me get my stuff off the ground and I'll come up. Maybe we can order in something to eat? Just to be sure neither of us is hangry."
She laughed and nodded.
"Huh." One of the guards scratched his chin. "That defused pretty suddenly. Not that I'm complaining."
Behind the guards, Sunset was also not complaining. She was internally screaming in terror. This was her worst case scenario. One of the things Sunset had been wary of for the last few months had been Cadance learning to use her own unique magic - the spell or special talent tied directly to her cutie mark. It was an unknown: a magic that Cadance would have without Sunset teaching it and something she would have all the advantages in using. Now it not only had emerged but it was obviously a mind-affecting spell - something Sunset had zero experience with and that Princess Celestia had always refused to teach about. Cadance had an ace that not only could beat anything Sunset threw at her, but that Sunset might not even realize had been used against her.
It utterly terrified the unicorn.
And that wasn't even touching on how horrifically dark mind magic was to begin with.
A quick glance showed the guards hadn't noticed - their attention had been on the fight, not their charge.
It didn't take much for Sunset to pull Cadance a few steps away - the alicorn was in a daze, stunned as she tried to comprehend what she had just done - and get a little privacy. "Cadance, what are you doing?" Sunset hissed.
"I-- I don't know?" Cadance's eyes flickered back and forth between Sunset and the building that now lacked an arguing couple. "I saw them shouting, and I just... Something inside me said I had to act. So I focused and I thought really hard and..." She shifted uneasily. "I think I understand what you keep saying about how magic is will." Comprehension of what had happened crept to her face in the form of a borderline manic grin. "And I fixed it!"
Sunset grabbed Cadance by the cheeks, forcing the alicorn to look at her. "Never do that again."
Cadance's smile vanished. "What?"
"Never do that again," Sunset repeated in a hushed voice. "And never tell anypony you did that. Do you understand, Cadance? That didn't happen. Never speak about it, never repeat it."
Cadance's eyes searched Sunset's to find the joke, but there wasn't one. "I-- All I did was try to remind them how they felt about each other. They just needed to calm down and remember how they feel. I just-- N-No, I don't understand."
Sunset's response was a low rumble. "What you just did wasn't just magic. What you did was mind control. You used your magic to alter those ponies' minds and change their behavior. That's dark magic, Cadance. Dark dark magic. The kind that won't have you thrown into a prison because it's too risky to leave any possibility for you to escape. If anypony finds out you did that - or worse, that your cutie mark is for mind control magic - then..." Sunset trailed off, verbally stumbling. "I don't even know what they'd do to you. But it would be bad."
Cadance didn't - couldn't - respond. She tried several times, opening her mouth only to close it again when she couldn't find the words. Doubt was in her eyes, mind visibly scrambling to try and figure out if this was legitimate or some plan of Sunset's that would once more send their relationship into a death spiral.
"Please." Sunset's earnest plea was quiet, desperate to be unheard by the nearby guards.
Another moment of soul-searching. And then Cadance's eyes looked to the cobbles, her ears went flat, and she nodded. "Okay," was her quiet response.
"Never speak about it. Never repeat it," Sunset recited.
"Never speak about it," Cadance said gloomily. "Never repeat it."
And Sunset grabbed her in a tight hug that was almost returned. It broke quickly as Sunset cleared her throat to draw the attention of the guards. "We're going back to the castle. You can get back to whatever it is you do when you're not creeping on Cadance." One of them sputtered indignantly, but the rest saluted and meandered to disappear into the background once more.
What they did didn't matter to Sunset. She just put her barrel against Cadance's and nudge-guided them back towards the Palace. "Sorry Caddy. I didn't mean to freak you out but... it's scary, what you did."
Cadance nodded in silence.
"I just want to keep you safe."
Another silent, gloomy nod.
Sunset didn't try to lift Cadance's spirits again. They spent the rest of the return trip in silence, returning to their rooms without another word said.
Time passed. Winter Wrap-Up came and went, and with it the post-holiday malaise passed. Things eased back into normality again. It wasn't quite what Cadance had hoped for - but it was close. Classes were had without drama. Little dates happened - mostly within the confines of the Palace and often just quiet, private dinners. About one night in three, the pair shared a bed and slept cuddling through the night. And they never, ever spoke of Cadance's heart-mending magic. (Sunset suspected Cadance had told Princess Celestia, but neither alicorn ever confirmed it.)
But that harsh thought faded with time. A month was enough for it to disappear, smothered under the blanket of just... being. Cadance commented more than a few times that it was exactly what she wanted: being a normal teenage pony spending time with those she cared about and doing what anypony her age would do. It was a counterbalance to the ongoing stressful lessons from Princess Celestia about statecraft and administration and etiquette.
For Sunset's part, it was almost everything she wanted, too. The distrust they had faded and Cadance's smile stopped being so tense. It wasn't gone, but the fear and suspicion became background subtext and little more than Cadance questioning what Sunset was up to more often. Lessons in magic tapered off, becoming more excuses to see each other than about a proper education. And while Princess Celestia never ceased to frustrate Sunset? Those moments were offset by Cadance. Her dull 'normalcy' wormed its way into Sunset and she found herself dreaming of two thrones side-by-side. A thousand years alone seemed stupid now - not when she could have a constant companion.
Moonrise had been hours before but neither of them cared. They lay together in a nest of pillows and blankets, legs wrapped around one another in the dark silence of Cadance's rooms. Sunset had her head laid on Cadance's barrel, while the alicorn's was atop the unicorn's head. The nose buried in Sunset's mane took a little sniff.
"I've been meaning to ask," she said at a voice just barely above a whisper, "Why does your mane smell like cherries and wood smoke? It's you, but why?"
Sunset's body shook as if she chuckled, even if no sound came out. "What a weird question."
Cadance pouted, and Sunset could feel it against her scalp. "It's not weird."
"It's weird," Sunset insisted. But she still answered with a smile. "The shampoo I use smells like cherries. Sorry, but there's no mystery there."
"And the smoke?"
Now it was Sunset's turn to pout in the darkness. "Well. You know my mane's really thick. It takes forever to dry, so I use the fireplace in my room. A little bit of flame and I can sit and read while it dries. That's where the smoke comes from."
Cadance giggled, barely audible. "The great Sunset Shimmer not using magic to solve a problem?"
Sunset stuck her tongue out, even if it couldn't be seen. "Drying it with magic always gives me split ends."
They both laughed - and then lapsed again into silence.
A minute. Five. Then ten.
"...I love you."
They both froze.
Then, in tentative return?
"I love you too."
But life was never going to stay normal. They both knew it. And a month after Hearts & Hooves came the next hiccup.
Princess Celestia had broached the subject in her usual manner.
She sipped her tea as if what she had just said was no big deal.
Sunset, however, understood. And unlike Cadance she wasn't stunned by it. "A diplomatic conference? Tomorrow? With representatives from every nation Equestria has contact with?"
Another sip and Princess Celestia nodded. "Yes. It's an emergency meeting and should have happened weeks ago, but bringing all of the various nations together took more time than I would like."
"And you're only telling us now." Sunset tried her hardest to convey displeasure and annoyance, voice rumbling like thunder.
Celestia failed to notice - or at least to care. "Cadance, there is little you will need to do for the conference itself. I would like you to sit in, but I will be handling all of the actual work. It should act as a good lesson and an introduction to other nations you will eventually need to be familiar with." She smiled softly. "And I'm certain they will all be eager to meet and learn about you, as well."
Cadance blushed. "It does sound like it could be interesting. Aside from Mr. Doodle and the two griffons on staff, I've never met a non-pony."
Celestia laughed merrily. "It's diplomacy, Cadance. I assure you, there are few things more boring." Then she turned her gaze to Sunset. "Meanwhile, my brilliant student, I am certain you will find yourself more engaging activities for the day."
She was met with several seconds of stony silence. "So I'm not invited."
"I see no reason you would want to attend," Celestia dismissed with a shrug.
"And if I said I wanted to?"
Celestia hesitated, smile wavering just briefly. "I have no reason to deny you, even if there is little point."
They all knew how this was going to go - Sunset's defiant nature wouldn't allow for anything else. "Then I'll be attending, too."
Heavily, Celestia sighed. "As you wish. But I will warn you, Sunset Shimmer, that this is an important diplomatic conference. You can observe, but you are not to act. I speak for Equestria in these matters. Am I clear?"
"Crystal."
For some reason, Princess Celestia's eyes flicked to Cadance when Sunset said that word.
Sunset Shimmer refused to admit that Princess Celestia had been right. Diplomacy was unbearably boring.
The initial introductions had been a sign of things to come: a receiving line like Princess Celestia had been in at the New Year's Gala, but trading a smaller crowd for even slower movement. Each of the diplomats and leaders stood with the Princess for ten or twenty minutes, exchanging pleasantries and words that sounded important but meant nothing. Sunset understood the power of a well-timed lie or how to say soft words to make somepony think you were on their side, but this was wasted time.
The greeting line at least had interesting sights: Sunset had never seen an abyssinian outside of a book, nor one of the reclusive deer. Fourteen delegations arrived in total, plus another four that represented Equestria and its client states. And as they filtered in and past the Princess, they slowly gathered in a ballroom with refreshments.
It was there the first conflict happened: two diamond dog contingents had arrived - one representing Caninia, the other Dimondia - and they quickly fell into a loud argument about which was the primary speaker for their race. Thankfully it never progressed beyond words and was broken up by the minotaur representative, but it still raised hackles and tempers all around.
That set the tone for the conference. After everypony (well, every creature) sat down, there was obvious tension. The two diamond dog parties weren't speaking to each other; the deer weren't talking to anypony; and the zebra representative seemed more concerned with her drink than the rest of the table.
Cadance leaned over and whispered into Sunset's ear. "They're all trying to avoid talking."
Sunset raised an eyebrow - then very briefly lit her horn. "Stop leaning over, it's really obvious." She didn't, instead looking ahead as if nothing was happening. "Fortunately there's a spell for this. Just talk normally - I'm the only one that can hear you right now." She thought for a moment before adding, "But remember they can all see your lips move, so be careful."
Cadance giggled, then put her wing in front of her mouth. "They're all trying to avoid a subject." She motioned slightly with her chin towards the far left side of the circle. "And none of them are making eye contact with that creature."
The creature in question was a white-furred yeti of some sort, wearing a black tabard that bore a double lightning bolt sigil. Beside him was an extremely nervous looking cat from Abyssinia, and on the other side was the empty seat traditionally reserved for the dragons (who Celestia had said never attended but always had a place set aside.)
"That's... the Storm Kingdom, right?" Sunset rifled through her memories to one of the more terse introductions on the way in.
Cadance nodded. "During the reception, everypony avoided them. Except for the Abyssinians, who followed them around like, um."
Sunset covered her mouth with her tea cup. "Like a lost puppy?"
The analogy - one Cadance had specifically been trying to avoid - made the alicorn blush with embarrassment. But she nodded. "I think they're why we're here."
And she was right.
After a quick but still too long greeting, Princess Celestia launched into the issue at hoof: the kingdom of the hippogriffs at Mount Aris had disappeared. The city, she reported, was in ruins and the entire population was missing. While Celestia didn't make any direct accusations, her choice to note shortly thereafter how Abyssinia had recently been conquered by the Storm Kingdom and was now in attendance as a client state was impossible to miss.
In turn, the yeti insisted that they had nothing to do with the hippogriffs and were deeply offended at the suggestion. They were, he stated, not aggressive by nature and were as deeply concerned as everyone else about this disruption of trade in the southern seas.
Just as Cadance had said, none of the other delegates made eye contact with Princess Celestia or the yeti throughout the whole exchange.
It continued on like that for three hours: Princess Celestia saying things that were almost but not quite accusations; the Storm Kingdom's diplomat denying any wrongdoing and deflecting; and every other delegation quietly staying out of their way. The only deviation was when Celestia suggested Equestrian troops move south to investigate the remains Mount Aris and guard it from intrusion. That was headed off by the representative from Kludgetown loudly stating that they would not allow military forces to move through their territory, particularly not with the intent of occupying another nation's lands.
Quietly Cadance noted that they were probably in on it, and Sunset saw a brief but meaningful look pass between the Kludgetown and the Storm Kingdom delegations that confirmed it.
If Princess Celestia saw the look, she didn't press the topic further.
In the end, lunch arrived and nothing had actually been accomplished.
Fortunately, lunch was much more interesting. Most of that was Cadance - by the time Sunset rejoined her after getting them both drinks (there was a lemonade on offer that was a wonderful contrast to the still not-quite-spring weather outside), the newest alicorn was surrounded by dignitaries eager to make first impressions.
They were all laughing at some joke Sunset had missed (and that probably wasn't funny anyway) so she smiled and hovered over the glass to Cadance. "I see you're already making connections."
Cadance beamed back and took the drink in wing. (That earned a small displeased glare from Sunset, but the alicorn ignored it.) "Sunset, I'd like to introduce you to Minister Burro," she motioned with her free wing at the donkey who was currently conversing with an Ornithian parrot. "Ambassador Dinqii," and she motioned to the zebra mare who was currently nursing her fourth glass of wine. "And..." Cadance's face screwed up. "I'm terribly sorry, I don't remember your full title."
The parrot turned away from the donkey and gave a playful roll of her eyes. "Not even two decades old and your memory is already going? That bodes ill for your next century." She gave a little bow. "Kinnaris, Lady of the Manoran March."
Cadance giggled at the little jab. "I'll start taking notes to remind myself, Lady Kinnaris. But first - Sunset Shimmer, personal student of Princess Celestia and my marefriend."
There was a quiet rumble of greetings shared around from all involved, as well as some gentle congratulations. But that was just a brief aside before discussion turned once more to the topic of the day.
"A shame, what happened to the hippogriffs." Dingii sipped her wine again. "They were good trading partners."
The other diplomats nodded and hummed in agreement, but Sunset was young and impulsive. "So do you think Princess Celestia's right and the Storm Kingdom did it?"
A brief look was exchanged before all three foreigners laughed that noble laugh of humoring your lessers. "Of course they did it," chuckled Lady Kinnaris. "I'm not certain how they managed to make off with the entire hippogriff population, but there's no doubt of who's responsible."
Confusion - and a little anger over being laughed at - screwed up Sunset's face. "So why aren't you doing something about it?"
"Because," Burro said, voice heavy with smarm, "We don't want to be next. Putting ourselves into the line of fire would only make us the Storm Kingdom's next target."
"And it wouldn't help anyway," added Dingii. "Equestria will take care of them shortly. The Princess always does."
Cadance opened her mouth to say something - only for Sunset to cut her off. "Yeah, right. The Royal Guard hasn't gone anywhere outside of Equestria in generations aside from a few disaster relief missions."
"And yet," Dingii retorted smugly, "Her will is still done."
Leaning over, Kinnaris set a claw on Dingii's shoulder. "Don't be snide, they're still chicks."
Sunset bristled.
"Foals," Dingii corrected.
The parrot shrugged. "Same thing, different word." She caught Sunset's angry glower out of the corner of her eye and directed her attention back to the unicorn. "I mean no offense, but you're both young and have lived your lives under Princess Celestia's rule." She glanced at Cadance but found no objection, so she continued with a question. "As Equestrians, how would you sum up the Princess in one word?"
Sunset hardlocked. There were a lot of words she could associate with the Princess, but limiting it to just one? Powerful? True, but hardly a summary of who she was. Blind? Doubtless given how often she'd denied Sunset, but that probably wasn't the answer Kinnaris was looking for. Perhaps divine? Or immortal? Maybe just Sun?
Thankfully, Cadance leapt in while Sunset mentally dithered. "Motherly," she offered. "Princess Celestia acts as mother to Equestria. She watches over the nation and her ponies, protecting us and helping us grow."
The three diplomats exchanged thoughtful glances. "A good answer, Your Highness," spoke Burro. "And as a pony, not inaccurate."
"But you'd say something else." Sunset jumped back into the conversation with all four hooves.
Kinnaris nodded. "The word I would use is 'gardener'. She cares for the world and all those within it, even if it is from a great distance. She gives aid, shores up those who need it, protects the weak, and stabilizes the faltering. But she is also ruthless and will prune those who don't grow according to her plan."
Cadance paled. "Prune?"
Quickly Dingii stepped in, partially blocking Kinnaris off. "What my less than delicate compatriot means is that Princess Celestia does not take kindly to those who step out of line. Arimaspi is an example - it was a land ruled once by the cyclops. In their hubris, they attempted to weaken the griffons by stealing the Idol of Boreas. Without it, the king in Griffonstone lost the divine favor and his rule collapsed. None know the precise circumstances of what happened, but the results were clear." Her voice dropped, grave and dour. "At one conference, the cyclops bragged about what they had done. The next, Arimaspi was ruled by the goats as an Equestrian subject and the cyclops were not heard from again."
"And that was when the griffon kingdom split," added Burro. "With Griffonstone becoming an Equestrian protectorate and the Griffish Isles devolving into their current clannish structure."
There were no words. Sunset couldn't find them as she tried to reconcile that with what she knew. Yes, Princess Celestia could be ruthless at times. Watching how she played the noble families against each other demonstrated that much. But to overturn entire nations?
"You don't know she did that," Cadance countered with the confidence of a wise teenager. "You can't just assume when you're talking about... About..." She stumbled over herself, lacking the words to name such an act.
Burro sighed and shook his head, oozing both pity and condescension. "Because it's one example out of a thousand years. Every nation has stories about how Princess Celestia has saved us and how she's nearly destroyed us. It is her garden, to use Lady Kinnaris' metaphor. Most of us are content to grow in the beds she's laid down for us because what choice does a bush have against the gardener?"
"This is part of why you're so interesting," added Dingii. "This is the first time in history Princess Celestia has had an equal and we're curious about how you're going to tend the garden."
Cadance frowned - but not at the words. She was looking not quite at any of the diplomats, but instead at some point in the middle distance as she thought and left picking up the conversation to Sunset.
She still had that look on her face hours later as they lay in the darkness.
The rest of the day had been unremarkable. Cadance had spent much of it in thought, leaving Sunset to do the heavy talking at lunch. (She'd discovered she didn't enjoy it - so many empty, pointless words.)
When the conference had resumed, the show had started all over again. Celestia made not-quite accusations, the Storm Kingdom denied everything, and the others simply watched and pretended it wasn't their problem. Hours upon hours of that passed with no progress. Somehow, Princess Celestia held her temper and didn't throw anyone out a window.
Dinner came and split the crowd - half had left to begin the journey home, while the other half joyously ate Celestia's food and drank her wine. The conversations had been vapid, giving Sunset no other insights into geopolitical matters but plenty into minotaur rugby, Orinthian cuisine, and the difference between zebra and kelpie art. It seemed that when not at the table itself, these diplomats were even less interesting than Canterlot's noble families. At least they talked about things that were relevant to Sunset.
Sunset had stuck out the dinner and for another two hours of drinks and hobnobbing afterwards. Not because it was useful or because she enjoyed it, but because leaving early would prove Celestia right. The torturous boredom and frustration only made it sweeter when the Princess suggested Sunset bow out for the evening and escort Cadance back to the familiar solace of her room, as the remaining diplomats had gotten deep into their cups.
Now it was the small hours of the night but neither of them was asleep.
For Sunset, she was at least trying to rest. She'd briefly had some doubts - if this was part of being a princess, Sunset wasn't sure she wanted it. That had passed quickly enough once she realized that as a princess she could delegate.
Her eyes shifted over to Cadance, barely visible by the light of last embers in the fireplace. Perhaps not delegate so much as share: Cadance had read the room of the conference itself expertly, and had seemed to enjoy chattering with the diplomats before she'd fallen into thought. Leave the annoying work like diplomacy and ribbon cuttings to Cadance where she shined, while Sunset sat on the throne to rule.
But those thoughts had been sorted out more than an hour ago and Sunset was still awake. Largely because Cadance was and even as the alicorn tried to be still and silent, in their close quarters it was impossible to miss the small shifts and more tense breathing of not being asleep.
Eventually, it bothered Sunset too much to stay silent. "Cadance. What's wrong." It came out more annoyed than she had intended - but that was a consequence of being kept awake deep into the night.
It took a bit for her to reply. "Just... thinking?"
Sunset sighed, mostly inside her head. "About?"
Another lengthy pause before Cadance's reply. "I'm not sure."
And another internal sigh, this time more frustrated. "What do you mean you're not sure?"
"I'm not sure how to say it," Cadance ventured at a near whisper. "There's a lot of things I'm still sorting out in my head. I just..." She trailed away.
Sunset frowned. "Was it that dumb gardener thing?"
Cadance hesitated. "Yeah."
"Who cares?" Sunset quietly snorted. "All I heard was a bunch of cowards justifying why they don't get their hooves dirty. Forget about it and get some sleep."
Cadance hummed in thoughtful agreement - but didn't fall asleep.
Both were very tired come the next morning, and Cadance still couldn't find the words.
