With regards to Princess Twilight Sparkle,
Your highness. We of the Canterlot Guard in conjuncture with the local law enforcement of Ponyville would write this formal letter to you with the utmost gravity. Due to an enforceable series of both cataclysmic and traumatic events centered around the ones heading our land's monarchy, we feel as though we must beseech on this matter. This letter is sent to you with no other planned recipient because, as you have most likely been made aware of, you are the only remaining princess who has not caused a public incident in the last week.
You have not decimated Canterlot castle with cheese. Nor have you incinerated every inch of it with a super-powered toaster. And you have not yet caused a hostage situation over a set of bananas. These things, while infantile in description, have caused mass panic among all citizens of Equestria. Appleloosa has recently sent a request of safety from all members of the royal line. This sort of mass panic can do no good spreading among ponies, as you must agree.
That is why we all beg you, plead with you...
DO
NOT
COOK
EVER
With all due respect,
The Royal Coalition of Keeping Royalty away from Kitchens.
"Huh... That's a really politely worded cease-and-desist letter," Twilight mused aloud, rereading the letter for a second time.
"I'm more surprised it's a cease-and-desist before you acted-and-resumed," said Spike as he peaked over Twilight's shoulder.
The two shared a glance at one another. No look of dismissal between them. Not a look of worry to be shared. There wasn't a smile at the absurdity either. For a moment, both dragon and princess looked at one another simply simple. The shimmer holding the letter afloat dwindled to nothing and Spike plucked it from the falling air, hopping off from Twilight's back in the process.
What was to be made from that letter? Accept the new status quo? Allow Equestria to believe that the ones running the show can't cook easy-instruction food? That at a moment's notice they could all ransack a place of business over not getting singles? No. No, no, no. That just couldn't stand. The princess were to be pillars of all things good and just... Not of destruction and chaos. They had a lawn ordainment for that; even if he was on an extended vacation.
"Spike... Take a letter..." Twilight was poised to make things right; and she most certainly would do all she could to make it so.
Fearing her most beloved sister-in-law; the one who raised her as a foal and showed her the good in other ponies? No. That would never stand. Cadance was as pure a soul as one could hope to be. Kind, gentle, loving, considerate. These were the traits of an inspiring ruler. Not of a mare that uses a cucumber as a makeshift knife to hold up against ponies' throats while she demands to be sold a single banana... Just for an example. Pure speculation.
Trembling at the sight -the thought- of someone as brilliant as the princess of the sun? Inconceivable. Such an impossibility couldn't just be allowed to slide, could it? The answer was no. A hard no. Celestia was a teacher, a mentor, a leader, a GODDESS! Though she did have some blemishes (like being unable to wait for minute-made mac n' cheese to finish), she was still the picture of perfection. As perfect as realistically could be possible by any standards. It couldn't stand.
And Luna... Luna was... She... She sings good. Yeah. Of course, she was a princess. A beloved one to be sure. She protects the dreams of all creatures of the realm; guaranteeing present dreams safely away from disrespectful toasters. That in itself is worth honoring, surely. Any sort of smearing of her name would only hurt the entire system of the title of princess. And that could never fly. Ever.
There was only one way to end this. To cease the storm of worry. To end the fear hanging over all pony life. It was a gamble to be sure, but it had to be done. Spike plucked a quill from the inkwell sitting at his "taking a note" table, awaiting his princess' words that he would have to forge into the written form. No stroke now could be a mistake... Each word would have to be perfect. From word, to ear, to paper. Flawless.
Dearest Luna Cadance Celestia Princesses,
I WE hope this letter finds you well. I am fine, myself. Living at the castle can get a little boring. I couldn't imagine what I'd do with all the rooms filling it when I first got it and I still don't know what I'm supposed to do with all of it. This letter is not about me US Spike and I, but it's about US, the princess of Canterlot. Not the us that are writing this letter A little great deal fair bit of trouble has gathered up on the name of princess. Trouble that I'm sure you've all been made very clear on. No special attention needed to be drawn on Cadance who has been banned from all produce stores in Ponyville. Bringing attention to that would only bring up the past. And this letter is about forgetting the past.
That's why we cordially invite you to a tea time afternoon lunch at Ponyville's Castle of Friendship today. Tea will be made by Spike Twilight Sparkle, me (of course). We'll sit around the table, drink a spot of tea, and wash away any doubts the public may have in one afternoon. By tomorrow, the status quo will be normalized, I'm sure of it.
From,
Twilight Sparkle. (Written by Spike)
Twilight would have to invest in some whiteout in the future. But that was a problem for a later date. Now? It was time to cook. As Spike copied down the letter onto two other sheets, taking care to add in the same mistakes and rewrites, Twilight excused herself to the main hall of her castle. The moment those letters were sent, the princesses would be flocking to Ponyville to enact Twilight's brilliant plan. Yet, the linchpin remained. The piece de resistance that would shoo away all of those pesky ideas that food from a princess is destructive.
Tea.
Tea: the simplest of dishes. A cup of water, a tea packet, and a steamer if you were feeling daring. But daring wasn't the point. No. As Twilight strode through the reflective halls of her keep, she was well aware how instrumental it was for this to go well. She was confident in her ability to make hot tea; what pony wouldn't be? But...
It never hurt to be on the safe side.
Twilight's horn glittered with a spark of magic, tugging the great doors leading to her dining hall open with ease. It wouldn't take long to prepare the cups and gather the bags of tea. After all, it was she that organized every inch of the dining hall. Sure, everyone offered to help since "she couldn't just organize the entire castle on her own". But she showed them... Now everything was right where it needed to be. From the spoons, to the dishes, to the window cleaner, to the sponges. And it was that dedication that gave Twilight her certainty in this mission. With how goal oriented she was on this, there could not be a single mistake.
"Hey, boss. I made some tea. Want a cup?"
Starlight Glimmer...
"Oh. Oh my. This is quite good. It is just the right level of -mmm- bitterness. Yes." Tears.
"Bitter, yes. But it has this unmistakable hint of... Oh, I can't put my hoof on it." Pain.
"Yeah, I taste it too. OH! I got it! It's like some kind of sea salt. Twilight, I never thought of using sea salt as the base!" Agony.
"Uh-huh, yeah. See salt, bitterness, it's great. REAL great..." The others paid no attention to Twilight's pout as they continued to drink the wonderful tea made for them by their loving friend.
As the four princess (nix one sulking at the table) enjoyed their spot of tea, Starlight Glimmer looked on at the display with curious confusion. "Um... I guess I'll go make more?"