//------------------------------//
// Chapter 5 
// Story: Intriguing 
// by Purple Patch 
//------------------------------//

Fancy Pants gazed at his ancestor’s uniform one last time.
Unlike Knickerbocker, Fancy had never taken to battle. Not actively, anyway.
He’d served in diplomatic posts on several occasions and had, once or twice, been required to fight on such occasions when things got awry, hence where his fencing lessons came in handy, and he had a fairly decent eye for strategy, a proficient board-game player in his youth.
He’d learned that the North Onagerian Republic’s troops had taken to calling him ‘The Three Eyed Swordsteed’ in fearful whispers after he and the young Lady Cadence fought their way out of an ambush on the alpine valleys, thereafter treating him like some sort of bogeypony to keep their children from misbehaving.
And Warlord Schnortel of the Gomphotherian Empire had offered two-thousand slaves for the gentlecolt’s head after his armies were crushed thanks to Fancy Pants and King Kintampo’s friendship and collective tactics won the day against the empire’s plans for the invasion of West Zebrica. An empty threat as it was largely thanks to that defeat that the warlord no longer had any slaves or much of an empire any more.
But through these few but prominent deeds, facts had become legends and the more Fancy had, the more difficult it became to live up to them. When he’d revisited Kintampo’s kingdom several months after preventing Gomphotheria’s invasion, the West Zebricans had been shocked that this fabled friend of their kings looked so very normal.
And normal wasn’t something others called him very often.
He’d decided long ago that he wouldn’t spend his days chasing a legend. No matter who he was related to or was friends with, he’d be his own stallion and he’d make his own choices and live his own life.
After all, there were many, perhaps countless, ways to be a hero.
Smiling at the uniform, returned to its glass cabinet, he left the manor in the early afternoon.
On the manor grounds, he heard the loud and enthusiastic barking of a young colt.
“One, two, three, four! Left-Right! Left-Right!”
Sure enough, Tinny Can, Mrs Fuss Pot’s precocious but playful nephew was marching briskly up and down the grounds, a long stick held over his shoulder as a guard would hold a spear or a firearm.
“Hello, Tinny, you little scamp” Fancy chuckled “What are you up to?”
“Master Fancy Pants, sir!” Tinny spun round to face the master of the manor, slammed the stick into the ground and saluted.
“I’m keeping watch for Nitpick and his evil hench-ponies, in case they come back looking for trouble”
“Ah, good colt, young Tinny” the gentlecolt said, patting him on the head “I trust you’ll give them a good solid poke with that trusty weapon of yours”
“Yes, Master Fancy Pants, sir! Mister Gruffleby says if I see Nitpick or anypony working for Nitpick near the manor, I should do what he did against the griffins and ‘Stick it up ‘em!’ I don't know what that means but they do not like it up ‘em, Mister Gruffleby says, they don’t like it up ‘em!”
Fancy Pants laughed nervously and took a step back from the stick.
“Yes...yes...very good, young Tinny” He cleared his throat and made his way out of the grounds “Carry on”


*


Carcassonne could feel the eyes on her as she walked the streets of Canterlot. The names they had for her.
Failed Candidate.
All Talk.
Not Even Second Best.
All her life she’d strived to be the best.
Better than her sister.
Better than her classmates.
Better than anypony and everypony she knew.
And she’d stopped asking why a long time ago.
But now the plain truth was in front of her in the eyes of anypony who looked at her.
Not the best. Not even second best. Nopony.
And in politics it was the worst. It was like after she’d failed to become Chairstallion, she was expected to turn invisible, the way they looked at her. And in every gaze, Carcassonne saw somepony who could have voted for Nitpick.
She hoped they’d voted for Fancy. Voting for her seemed like too much to hope for.
She hadn’t even gotten to polling season when her own cabinet stabbed her in the back.
Too headstrong. Too reckless. Too damn proud.
Had any of them ever supported her because they were her friend? Like Fancy and Nitpick had?
And would that have been an honest win? Would it even have made a difference?
Carcassonne entered an alley, not the shabbiest specimen but private, and hurled aside her coffee cup, letting it bounce away after leaving a great faded-brown splash-mark on the wall.
Even leaving the house had become a never-ending barrage of insults, reprimands and bad memories.
Did she even have a friend left in the-


“Carrie!”
The scarlet unicorn spun round instinctively and took in the newcomer who’d intruded on her.
It was an alicorn, not a common sight at the best times. A pink mare with a long flowing mane of many colours and a kindly face with wide, sympathetic eyes and smile that could charm diamonds from a dragon.
“Oh...it’s you” It took a great deal of effort to muster the same amount of aggression she’d had for the mare before her as she had during their school years.
“Hey...Cadence”
Cadence gave her a gentle hug. It didn’t sit well with Carcassonne who had never enjoyed being touched.
“Please let go”
The young alicorn did so and looked at the unicorn with a merry expression.
“Carrie, it’s been months! I’ve missed you so much” As usual her bubbly personality was both grating and strangely elating “Are you free for the day? I know a great milkshake bar if you’re interested”
“Not now, Cadence!” Carcassonne groaned “You know I’m not really on board with this whole ‘BFFL’ thing you have going on with just about everypony else”
Cadence’s face fell which made Carcassonne’s do the same.
One of the most unnerving things about Princess Mi Amore Cadenza was that you never knew when she was using her powers to make you feel the way she wanted you to. Sometimes you questioned whether she ever needed to use them.
Something about her just made it so hard to push her away.
“I’m sorry, Carrie”
“And you know I don’t like that name”
“But...” Cadence looked forlorn “I was just so happy to see you”
“Why?”
“Why...” The alicorn looked confused “Because you’re my friend”
“No, I’m not! Come on, Cadence!” Carcassonne groaning, sounding not so much angry as exasperated “When have I ever acted like a friend? When have I ever done anything to be called a friend?!”
“You haven’t done anything to not be called a friend...Carcassonne” Cadence said uncomfortably “I mean, okay, you were a little rough around the edges but...”
“I was a jerk, Cadence!” the scarlet mare said, with equal anger and shame “I was never nice to anypony, I was always pushing ponies around or pushing them away, just so I could be the best...and look where it got me”
“Don’t be like that. Striving to succeed is admirable and there’s nothing that wrong with being competitive”
“It was more than that, Cadence, and you know it, I...” Carcassonne paused, sighed and lowered her head “You were the only pony in my class that wasn’t afraid to talk to me and make me feel better and...I never gave you the slightest bit of thanks”
“Well...” Cadence began in a motherly tone “It’s not too late for that. Maybe if you’d like to come with me for milkshakes, we can talk this out”
Carcassonne took a long, dismal look at her own classmate and closed her eyes in resignation.
“Sure, why not? I need a pick-me-up and I spilled my coffee”
“I thought you hated coffee”
“I do” she sighed “But I’ve had to get used to a lot of things I hate”
Cadence paused, a look of true hurt on her perfect features and spoke like a scolded foal.
“Am I...one of those things?”
Despite herself, Carcassonne couldn’t help but put a friendly hoof on her shoulder, or at least made her best effort to do so.
“No, Cadey” she said “I’ve never been able to hate you” As Cadence smiled, she did too. It was infectious.
“C’mon" Carcassonne sighed "let’s get your damn milkshakes”


*


Fancy Pants found the Royal Gardens a great deal more comfortable without so many crowds.
Just the place to gather his thoughts and generally unwind.
And reflect on his relationship with the most beautiful mare he knew.
And how he’d nearly lost her.
He remembered the sight of her when he’d fought off Nitpick and his thugs, the poor, helpless, beaten and bloodied mare, lashed to a tree-trunk and barely conscious. As he’d laid her on the ground and transferred his magic, he was praying that she would be alright.
He couldn’t have dealt with losing her.
Not since the death of his parents would he have felt so alone.
He shook his head in an attempt to clear his thoughts.
She was fine now, her injuries would heal and her mind was undamaged. He’d done everything he could and he did it well. Everypony thought so.
So why was he so concerned?
He sighed and answered his question.
Because he hadn’t done enough. What Nitpick had done had warranted far more than a stern talking-to and a few cuts and bruises. He should have been rotting in a cell after how he so cruelly treated Fleur.
Fancy Pants closed his eyes and took a deep breath through his nostrils, struggling to put his enemy’s taunts and threats out of his mind.
They wouldn’t get to him. Without support, they would fall. And they’d been low on support from the very start.
He need to keep calm. By now, Blueblood would have withdrawn all support from Nitpick’s campaign and the disgusting Lord Magistrate would likely be nursing his wounds from both Fancy’s sword and his wife’s inevitable rampage.
Fancy Pants was safe. And so was Fleur de Lis.


“Fancy Pants”
The gentlecolt turned his head and his expression swiftly curdled to a look of hatred and distaste.
Lord Magistrate Nitpick, Sir Cumbersome Clout, Earwax, Monocular and Binocular were approaching him with cocky, arrogant grins.
Fancy Pants got to his feet and eyed them disdainfully.
“You have far greater gall than I ever thought possible from you, Nitpick, to show your face to me after what you did” he sneered “Though that’s hardly saying much”
“Ah, Fancy Pants, ever the demonstrator of the dry wit and insolent tongue” The Lord Magistrate smiled through gritted teeth.
“What do you want?” the gentlecolt was abstaining from his usual courtesy.
“We are...concerned for you, Fancy Pants” Sir Cumbersome spoke in a civil and gracious manner which was, frankly, bizarre from him “We believe that the stresses of your office have become...detrimental to your health”
“Well, they haven’t” Fancy Pants said curtly “Thank you for your concern. Good day”
“Not so fast, if you please” Cumbersome’s more usual threatening tone returned only momentarily before he cleared his throat and continued “You see, Fancy, most recently your ideals have been growing more and more...”
“Idealistic?” Fancy suggested sarcastically.
“Well exactly” Clout hadn’t acknowledged the sarcasm “And we feel that we should ask, before it’s too late, don’t you think you’ve done enough?”
“No, not really” Fancy answered ‘Not while scum like you are still allowed to roam free’
There was an uneasy pause.
“Don’t you?” Cumbersome’s forced smile was probably cramping the muscles in his face “Not even a little?”
“What do you want from me? I am tired of this charade” Fancy snapped “My time, patience, wit and honour are being simultaneously wasted simply by talking to you. If you haven’t got anything sensible to say, kindly stop beleaguering me with your presence”
The five before him gave a united sigh and played their card.
“Care to explain?” Cumbersome asked menacingly as he handed Fancy the photos.


Fancy Pant’s surveyed the pictures with shock as the times he had shared with Fleur de Lis hovered in his magic hold before him, projected on paper.
The cafe visits, the carriage rides, the candlelit dinners, even the simple, private conversations they’d had at their own homes.
How had anypony taken these photos? Some were so close that it would have been impossible not to notice.
“Have you been spying on me?” he barked.
“Spying on us, you mean. No two of you stand on your own in those photos” Cumbersome said, smirking “We have our methods”
“And also copies” Earwax pointed out “Safe and out of your reach, ready to be sent to those that may wish to know”
Fancy raised one eyebrow in an unimpressed manner.
“So I have a marefriend. Do you really wish to spread it around the capital like playground banter?”
“Not just any marefriend, my good sir” Nitpick chuckled “Is this not Miss Fleur de Lis? Daughter of Ponyville ice-cream ponies and failed modelling worker?”
Fancy chose to ignore the insult, reluctantly.
“And what if she is?”
Nitpick and Cumbersome looked at each other in mock puzzlement.
“Well, is it not a slight coincidence...” Cumbersome asked “That the very mare who made such outrages claims about your greatest political rival is suddenly seen with you in several...intimate scenarios?”
“I...” Fancy’s eyes widened, aghast “I met Fleur after your attack on her at the theatre!”
“Did you now?” Nitpick was unperturbed “Well, it’s a pity these photos aren’t dated. As far as anypony knows, these could have been taken long before that, perhaps even before elections season”
“You...you’re trying to blackmail me?”
“No, Fancy Pants, we’re simply trying, as we were before, to convince you to step down. This is simply another reason for you to do so” Nitpick chuckled “If you do not announce your resignation from the Re-Electoral Candidacy and your current position as Royal Council Chairstallion within three days, these photos will be seen in every paper in the capital and beyond”
“Leading to your immediate vilification and the total loss of support for your cabinet” Cumbersome guffawed. Beside him, Earwax sniggered in a nasally fashion while Monocular and Binocular cackled like a pair of hags.
Fancy stared at the photos, deaf to the laughter before him, his face ashen, his eyes so wide his monocle threatened to drop.
“You...” he struggled to remain firm “You won’t be believed. Ponies have seen me and her together”
“Once or twice” Cumbersome scoffed “Nopony knows when this little clandestine relationship began and anypony that does can easily be kept quiet. And though she appeared at the gala, it was in silks and jewels, not a school uniform. You’d be surprised how much difference that can make. Ironic, isn’t it. In your wish to stop anypony knowing the truth, you’ve doomed yourself to something far worse”
“In any case, Fancy...” Nitpick sneered “You might want to save yourself some time and dignity and start packing your desk”


Fancy Pants sat down on the bench, his eyes still fixed on the photos.
Eventually, he looked up to see the triumphant leers of his enemies.
“What...” his breath was heavy and shuddering “What...happens to Fleur?”
“I thought you’d never ask” Nitpick cackled “If these photos go out to the press, then Miss...de Lis, is it? She will implemented in the scandal, held accountable as an accomplice in political corruption and official misconduct, find herself unable to escape justice as you will...and be sent immediately to prison. And, with a few tweaks, will remain there for the entirety of her life”
“What?” Fancy gaped “No! No, she did nothing wrong!”
“She did ample wrong, young stallion!” Nitpick threw him a sadistic snarl “She humiliated me! She went blabbing to her bumpkin friends in Ponyville and made a mockery of my noble house and standing! She’s the cause of all this, it’s only right she be made to pay for it”
Fancy was too shocked to speak.
“Should you step down, willingly, however, her punishment will be considerably lighter” Cumbersome said, leering “She will simply head back to Ponyville to continue her humdrum little life and career as an ice-cream pony. I’m afraid, to avoid the scandal, you’ll need to keep interactions with her infrequent...that is to say non-existent. Still...if she ever does worry about her finances, Nitpick and I might be able to offer her a...” He chuckled cruelly “significantly high-paying job”
“I can think of several” Nitpick chortled.
Fancy lowered his head, shutting her eyes tight, striving to hope this was little more than a bad dream.
A tear from his right eye rolled down his face and rested on the rim of his monocle as the photos fell from his dissipated magic.
He stared at the photo that had landed below his hooves. The photo of their kiss.
It was so close and clear. How had he not seen it?
Fleur.
He’d doomed her.
“Three days, Fancy Pants” Nitpick said smugly “Not a day longer. Time to make way, young sir. This is a game that you could never hope to win”
And with that, Nitpick snatched back the photos with a flash of olive-green magic and left with his retinue, all of them laughing.
The images of their time together were ingrained inside Fancy Pants’ head as he stared into the void with horror and despair. What had been treasured memories, privy only to the two of them would now be little more than schoolyard smut, thrown around with the day’s gossip between anypony that would listen.
He would be ruined. He’d lose everything, his position, his house, his friends.
And Fleur.
Fleur de Lis, the mare he had grown to love so much, would be a prisoner, a pariah, a broken pony.
All thanks to him.
Every memory of their time together turned against him, everything he and his parents had built threatened with destruction as a cause of it and no way to stop it.
Alone in the gardens, unable to find any reason to remain composed or even optimistic, Fancy removed his monocle, held his head in his hooves and wept.


*


Carcassonne had to admit it. Cadence knew where you could get a darn good milkshake.
Donut Joe’s was an unpretentious but able eatery. A favourite among students but largely ignored by the upper-class.
For this, Carcassonne was grateful. She was also grateful of the frosty chocolate and black cherry milkshake she was currently in the process of slurping with enthusiasm she hadn’t felt in months.
“See” Cadence said proudly as she drank her own tutti-frutti milkshake “Told you you’d like it here”
“Okay, fine, you can be right now and again. Don’t rub it in” Carcassonne grumbled, failing to hide her smile.
“I’m right in more ways than one. Carrie,” Cadence leaned over “I want to help. Tell me what’s wrong. When you left school, you let a lot of questions go unanswered”
“Maybe I didn’t want them answered” Carcassonne said flatly, lowering her gaze.
“And did that help you?” the young alicorn’s tone was calm and composed, as if she were a teacher.
The scarlet unicorn scowled and slowly gave her a forlorn look.
“How do you do that?” she asked.
“What?”
“Figure ponies out. Just...answer their questions with...another question? It’s weird. It always has been. Ponies just come to you and you just...I always thought it was mind-control but...it isn’t, is it”
“It’s what I do, Carrie” Cadence said plainly “I help ponies. I like to help ponies. It’s one of main reasons why I want to become a Princess...and I want to help you. Please, Carrie, just tell me what’s wrong”
Carcassonne sighed and looked up at them.
“Well...were to begin? There’s the fact that I haven’t been able to measure up to...anypony I promised. There’s the fact that I ran for government and got betrayed by my own cabinet before the polling even started. There’s the fact that the current Chairstallion sees me as an idiot not fit for government and the running Chairstallion probably thinks a lot worse. There’s the fact that now everypony in the capital sees me as some sort of washed-up waste of a mare, the fact that any ponies that actually supported me have now been let down completely and I have no idea who or how many they are and finally, the fact...” Her tone began to fall into a dejected whine “...that I’m now sitting here, whinging like a little nag...to you...a pony who always wants to help me...no matter how many times I push her away”
Her head lowered and Cadence was almost sure she saw tears in the headstrong mare’s eyes.


“Carrie” the alicorn began “I want to know what happened”
“What?”
“The final magic trial. Back at school. It was the big day, you were going to show up everypony with your magic prowess, perform every spell there was, prove yourself the best and win, just like you were always saying, like you were always trying to do”
Memories of their school days sunk into both their heads. Neither of them found it particularly pleasant.
“But you never showed up” Cadence continued “You just...disappeared. And later we got the letter that you’d quit. No explanation, no plans, nothing. Now, you can’t just pass something off like that and you were never one to back down, even if there wasn’t any point. Whatever you’d done, whatever you were capable of, this wasn’t like you. You were throwing away everything you’d worked for without even trying...So what happened?”
Carcassonne sighed, her own silver eyes unable to meet those of the alicorn.
“Have I ever mentioned my sister, before?” she asked, emotionlessly.
“Yeah, once or twice, you let slip something. And...it didn’t sound like you two have a great relationship”
“Had”
“What?” Cadence paled at what she’d just heard.
“All my life...” Carcassonne said slowly, as if each word undid a great chain wrapped across her body “I have lived in my sister’s shadow. Paris, her name was. Living back in Boulette City. She was the favourite. Of my parents, my teachers, my...well, the ponies who could’ve been my friends. And she was way better at magic to boot. And boy, did she never let me forget it”
“I’m sorry to hear that” Cadence interjected “But...I don’t think that’s all there is, is it”
“It’s not...” Carcassonne took a gulp of her milkshake, not from the straw, and continued in a heavy tone “Even when I got into the School For Gifted Unicorns, she never held back about how worthless I was. In Boulette, it’s kind of considered a stigma if the Princess smiles on you, it’s like selling out or something. But anyway...she’d always be there to smack me down whenever I felt good about myself. I was always trying my best, always overcompensating, always trying to show you and everypony else up...and it didn’t make any difference. Then the trials began. The day had finally come. I was gonna’ ace the trial, become Celestia’s best student and show everypony in Canterlot, Boulette and everywhere else that I was the best. And I was gonna’ do it totally without help and make history”
Momentarily caught up in her pride, she paused. It reminded Cadence of a deflating balloon or melting ice.
“Then...” Carcassonne said, her voice cracking “I got a note...from my parents...three days before the Final Trial. Paris...had been attacked...in an alley near a club in Boulette. She’d been left disfigured, paralysed...She went into a coma...and never came out...”
“Oh...no” Cadence raised a hoof to her lips “Carrie, I...I’m so sorry”
“I’d really rather you weren’t because that’s not the worst bit...even though it should be”
“I...I don’t understand”
Carcassonne held her head in her hooves.
“Cadence...I didn’t quit because my sister got hurt. I quit because I knew now that there wasn’t any point in competing! I’d lived my entire life hoping that one day I could finally beat my sister and right before I get the chance this curd happens! How could I show up Paris now?! There was no point and nothing about it would make me feel good! It was as if...it was if the world was just out to mock me”
“But...what about Paris?!” the pink alicorn exclaimed, sympathy swiftly turning to outrage.
“Exactly! What about Paris?! The words I’ve been hearing all my life” Carcassonne groaned “Paris this, Paris that. Even now, during the magic trials, what would have been my finest hour became all about her...I was nothing. Always...second...best”
“Carcassonne!” Cadence placed a hoof against the scarlet unicorn’s cheek as if ready to strike it “Don’t you care at all?”
She’d called her by her full name.
She only did that when she was upset with her.
This time Carcassonne could do nothing to hide her tears.
“I didn’t...not for a long time...” she murmured “I only started recently...after I failed in the election...It took my greatest failure to realise every other failure...and now that’s all I am” She sniffed as Cadence slowly drew back her hoof “My sister died three years ago and I never even addressed it until now! And she’s just one of the hundreds I’ve hurt in my stupid, pointless quest to be the best and stomp on everypony. I hurt you in school when I called you a freak without a family! I hurt Raven when I stole her coltfriend! I hurt Sonata when I filmed her in the shower and used it to blackmail her! I hurt everypony and now...now it’s too late to make it better...”
“Carrie” Carcassonne felt Cadence’s hoof again, gently lifting her by the chin.
Cadence smiled at her. It always made you feel like you weren’t alone.
“Now listen, Carrie, because this is very important” she said calmly and clearly, her words of wisdom prevalent in Carcassonne’s swimming head.
“It’s never too late”


“You...” the scarlet mare stared into Cadence’s beautiful lilac eyes “You’d...forgive me?”
“I’d do more than that” Cadence said “I’m going to help you, Carrie. I’m going to make sure everypony you know realises how you’ve changed and that you can change further. You can make this better, Carrie, anyone can. That’s one of the keystone premises of the ideals of harmony. A pony who seeks redemption is a strong force, stronger than any magic in Equestria”
Carcassonne sighed.
“Can you help me, Cadey?” she asked “Can you help me become...like you? Can you help me in helping others? I’d like to help others, I’d like to know how it feels. That should have been the reason I ran for government, that should have been the reason I tried to be the best...I want to know how to help others...and you’re the best at that”
“It’s easy once you know how” Cadence chuckled “Your milkshake’s getting tepid”
Carcassonne took a grateful slurp of her beverage, relieved to have gotten so much off her chest.
“I’m sorry, enough about me. How have you been doing?”
Cadence giggled.
“Its fine, Carrie, I’m doing okay”
“Has Shining finally...”
“Not yet” Cadence sighed “But...he’s getting there. Our friends never let us hear the end of it. Sunset and Flash Sentry are working on it too. Timber Spruce has come out...”
“Called it”
“And...I heard that Sour Sweet is going out with one of Earl Grey's sons. Oh and...Do you remember Fleur de Lis?”
Carcassonne thought a moment.
“Was she that thin mare that Blueblood, Suri, Top Tier and Peach Dream were always picking on?”
“Yeah...well I heard she was seen around Fancy Pants”
Carcassonne blinked.
“Oh you are kidding me!”
“No, seriously, Sugarcoat told me-”
“No, Cadey, listen” Carcassonne’s tone turned grim and measured, glancing around the diner and whispering “I’ve been...investigating 	Nitpick for some time...and if what you say is true...Fancy and Fleur might be in more danger than they know”


*


It was with a heavy heart that Fancy sat down at his desk in his study at Briefly Manor.
He hadn’t spoken since his encounter with Nitpick and his cronies and already the servants were beginning to whisper that something was up. He had expected this. It wouldn’t change anything.
‘Fleur’ he prayed ‘Forgive me...If you can’
Taking a quill, and making sure he didn’t lean over the paper, and thus stain it with suspicious tears, he wrote a letter.


*


Fleur’s injuries hadn’t quite healed yet but she was well enough to walk and Powder Rouge had very generously offered to give her some very useful healing salves.
The Neighponese mare was up on the set now, trying on the latest in faux leather tights, under her nom-de-plume, 'Oshi Roi'. Known for her stoic poses and calm yet mesmerising gaze, Oshi Roi before the camera was quite something to behold.
Fleur sat on the sidelines, resolving to still come in to the modelling shoots even in her current condition, in order to give Photo Finish advice or encourage the other models, most of whom were steadily warming to her.
The slim alabaster mare was dressed in a magenta jacket and tights for both the cold and to hide the marks upon her skin. She applauded warmly when Powder Rouge came off the set.
“Well done, Powder!” she cried as the Neighponese mare sat down “You were brilliant”
“You are very kind, Fleur”
“Personally, I think you oughta’ show ‘em more flank” Pretty Vision chuckled as she changed, prompting Powder to turn up her gaze in an aloof manner.
“I am above such vulgarity” she said in monotone.
“Sure, babe” Pretty ignored her and turned to Fleur “You feeling alright today, Lizzie?”
‘Lizzie’ had become her nickname for Fleur. It made her smile. The modelling circle was becoming less like a competition to Fleur and more like a community.
“I’m doing okay, Pretty. The cramps are gone but Photo doesn’t think I should model until the bruises are gone”
Pretty Vision growled at the memory of the angry marks on Fleur’s body.
“Just let that punk try anything again, I’ll open so many cans of whup-flanks on him! Stallions like him just make me puke!”
“It’s alright, Pretty” Fleur raised one hoof slightly “Fancy made his point very clear...quite literally”
“I’d have loved to have seen that” the tanned, blonde mare said, grinning.
“You are very lucky, Fleur” Stella Zeppole said, fixing her hair “Fancy is a brave stallion if he’s willing to go so far to help you. He seems to like you very much”
“Yeah, I think you two would be great together” Pretty declared.
“Likewise, you are clearly quite intended” Powder piped up.
‘Great, more shippers’ Fleur thought, sighing. It was no secret that those who were privy to her and Fancy’s relationship were quite enthusiastic about pushing it further.
Though she couldn’t fault them. The two of them really did have a very special bond.


“Excuse me, Miss Fleur?” 
The icy-blue-coated and wild-pink-maned Soigné Folio appeared. Despite her name, her nom-de-plume being 'Mayfair', she was a Trottingham filly with a common background, her low-pitched, emotionless tone and rustic drawl unhidden. As a mare she was collected and somewhat mordant, possessed of an authoritative nature, but she was never actively unpleasant. She was holding a letter out to Fleur de Lis.
“Somepony from Briefly Manor sent this to you. It’s enclosed. Give her some privacy you lot”
Somewhat begrudgingly, the other models edged away and went back to preparing.
Fleur knew at a glance the letter was from Fancy Pants. She recognised his handwriting and the seal of Briefly Manor.
She was excited, as she often was when given attention from the stallion of her dreams, but at the same it felt somewhat suspicious. Fancy often met her in person, on the set was no exception. He’d appeared to encourage her on several occasions.
What was he doing sending a letter?
She opened it and began to read.


The pink, fringed, competitive High Style, nom-de-plume ‘Vidalia’, was having a hard time satisfying her employer.
“No...” Photo Finish said monotonously as the model moved her hoof to every position “No...No...No...Ye-no”
“What angle exactly should I have my hoof?”
“Ze angle...” Photo Finish barked “...zat expresses your inner self! Ze mystery! Ze MAGICKS!”
High Style rolled her eyes. Beside her, her spiky-maned co-worker, the bubbly Roxie Stick, stifled a giggle.
“What does that even mean?” High Style groaned.
“Pay more attention and you vill-”
The eccentric photographer was interrupted by a sudden, agonised wail as Fleur de Lis rushed out of the set, sobbing uncontrollably. 	All eyes turned as the letter she’d been reading lowered slowly to the ground, as the slam of the lavatory door echoed down the hall.
“Er...” Pretty Finish managed to say “What just happened?”
“Zat is vat I, Photo Finish, vant to know! Vat happened to Fleur?! Vat is ze reason for crying?!”
Almost tentatively, Soigné Folio, retrieved the letter and read it.


Miss Fleur de Lis


I have spent the last day thinking about our current relationship.
And I do not believe it wise to continue.
I am aware you may have thought otherwise and I am sorry to tell you that it was a very foolish assumption.
I have a position and reputation to keep and relations with you would prove quite hazardous to both.
Henceforth I will ask you not to visit me or speak to me in public ever again.
I will also advise you to leave Canterlot indefinitely.
I am afraid I have been lying.
I do not believe you are not suited for the modelling circle or indeed much else in the capital.
I must ask you to stay away.
This is not your home and I am not the stallion you will share it with.
I know you must be quite upset to hear this but that fault is your own.
You exercised thoughts far above what you should have known to be possible.
Time at home will do you good.
I would advise leaving at once.


Goodbye Fleur


Sincerely,
F.P
P.S. This letter will self-destruct in two minutes.


There was a crackle as the centre of the letter caught alight. Instinctively, Soigné threw it in the sink and diluted it under the running tap.
For a moment, the only sound across the set was the heartbroken sobbing of Fleur de Lis.
“That...JERK!” Pretty Vision yelled “I’ll kill him for this! I’ll bucking GELD the son of a nag! How dare he does this to-”
“Pretty, calm yourself, please” Powder Rouge placed both hooves on her co-worker’s shoulders “There is nothing we can do”
“I...Photo Finish...cannot believe zis” the photographer murmured, stunned
“It’s just horrible...that poor mare” Roxie sounded close to tears.
“NO!” Photo Finish exclaimed loudly, causing all present to jump in surprise “You misunderstand. I...Photo Finish...cannot believe zis! I, Photo Finish, VILL not believe zis! Somezing here is not right”
“What?” Pretty asked.
“I, Photo Finish, have known Meister Fancy Pants long enough to know zat he vould never, in good conscience, break a mare’s heart, in particular a mare close to him”
"Look, um...boss." High Rise interjected hesitantly"I know he can be a swell guy but...maybe, just maybe he's not quite as swell as they say? I'm not saying you're wrong, I'm just saying it's possible."
The eccentric Stirropean photographer adjusted her shades and sighed.
"Ach so ein quarkhaufen..." she grumbled in her home tongue and fixed her models with a glare.
"Meister Fancy Pants recently saved Fleur de Lis from sexual assault. Now, of ze course, any decent pony vould vork to do ze same but if zey vished to keep zemselves, how you say, not directly involved, zey vould get help, yes?" She shook her head "All Meister Fancy Pants had to do vas call ze guard. But he did not. He vent in himself, at ze risk of his own life and saved Fleur personally, alone, to ensure nopony else got involved in a matter zat concerned them and zeir mutual vorst enemy. He nearly broke his shoulder in ze process..."
She breathed deep through her nostrils before continuing, indignant rage boiling in her voice.
"Unt now, I, Photo Finish, am expected to believe zat zis stallion, who risked his life to not only save the mare he claims to love from zis horror but ze inevitable trauma and public scandal following, who did everyzing he and his household could to keep her safe and help her brave life's many struggles...I, Photo Finish, and meant to believe zat now zat zey have finally confessed to each other zat zey may be in love...HE IS JUST GOING TO DECIDE, OUT OF ZE VERDAMMT BLUE, TO PUT AN END TO IT?!"
Her yell echoed through the photo studio. All others were quiet.
She drew herself up “Forces most vicked have threatened both Fleur and Meister Fancy Pants since zey met each other! Zey are at vork! I, Photo Finish, am sure of it! Somepony, somevere is trying to manipulate ze lovers and destroy zem completely! And ven I...Photo Finish...find out who is behind zis...”
Her voice lowered as her hoof ground upon the floor. The models around grew nervous of their employer’s cold rage yet, at the same time, shared the feeling.
“I...Photo Finish...am going to be a very...angry...mare”