//------------------------------// // Chapter 4 // Story: Yes, My Lady // by Tatsurou //------------------------------// The three fillies - guided by Sebastian - continued into the mansion in silence. Once there, Scootaloo sighed softly. "Kitchen's this way," she explained, turning into the seeming maze of hallways. Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle stayed close to her side. As they passed through the halls, they encountered what looked like a strange, bipedal suit of armor with various gears and pipes attached to head and limbs. While this normally would have been shrugged off as a minor curiosity - or perhaps an interesting practice point for 'Cutie Mark Crusaders Mechanics' - it immediately caught attention at the fact its eyes were glowing yellow, puffs of steam came out a pipe on its head made from a modified smokestack, and it was sipping tea. "Ho. Ho. Ho," it greeted the group as they approached. "Deik-Beck," Sebastian greeted warmly. "How are the records?" "Ho. Ho. Ho," Deik-Beck replied, turning to enter an office where he proceeded to throw papers everywhere before immediately refiling them, only to repeat the process seemingly endlessly. "...Robo Claus?" Sweetie Belle asked curiously. "Deik-Beck's a clockwork golem," Scootaloo explained to Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle. "Exceptionally useful as a records-keeper, since his machine brain has perfect, flawless recall...but he's worked for the family since we were ennobled, and no one alive knows how to fix one anymore without damaging internal components, especially those related to memory storage. The last repair - replacing his worn out spring core with a steam winder that could run on his favorite tea - damaged his speech center, so most of the time all he can say is 'Ho. Ho. Ho.'" "So...not Robo Clause?" Sweetie Belle clarified. "...not as far as I know," Scootaloo admitted thoughtfully. She then grinned impishly. "Though he's never in the house on Hearth's Warming Eve, for some reason." Sweetie Belle's eyes lit up with excited delight. Continuing down the hall, a loud avian cry of despair was heard around the corner. Before Apple Bloom or Sweetie Belle could react, Sebastian rushed forward around the corner. Scootaloo calmly led her friends around to see what had happened, her own eyes flat. Sebastian was carefully balancing an entire cabinet worth of fine china on talons, head, wings, back, and tail, carefully holding them above a rather odd hippogryph female. Her front half was a snowy owl, and her equine portion had a grey coat and tail. Perched on her beak were a pair of exceptionally thick glasses that showed much wear, and she was attired in a Prench Maid outfit. She looked up at Sebastian with a flustered blush on her cheeks. "T-t-thank you for that, Mr. Sebastian," she stammered out. "I d-d-didn't see the cabinet there..." Sebastian carefully replaced each dish in the cabinet. "And that is why you aren't supposed to run or fly while going through the halls, Gretchen," he explained carefully. "And it's just Sebastian. A butler such as myself does not deserve the honorific of 'Mr.' from the other help." "Y-Yes, M-...Sebastian..." Gretchen's cheeks turned even rosier. She then noticed Scootaloo there. "My lady, I didn't see you there! I'm so sorry for making a mess in front of guests! I'll go get to work immediately!" Spinning, she raced off down the hall. "Don't-" Scootaloo started to call out, only to wince as a loud crash heralded Gretchen slamming bodily into a decorative suit of armor. "-run..." "I'll clean it up!" Gretchen insisted frantically. "Sorry about that," Scootaloo apologized. "Gretchen's incredibly far-sighted, which leads to a few...accidents when she isn't careful." "So..." Apple Bloom began carefully. "How many messes does yer maid almost make before Sebastian saves the day?" "Her Ladyship has ordered me not to keep count anymore," Sebastian supplied impishly, though his glance down the hall towards Gretchen was oddly sorrowful, almost...nostalgic. Ignoring her friend's giggles, Scootaloo led the way further down the halls. "The kitchen is-" "Wah-CHOO!" The loud sneeze echoed through the house, closely followed by a burst of violet flames erupting out of a nearby door. "...excuse me," a contrite voice offered apologetically. Sighing, Scootaloo led the way calmly to the door, the other two following more carefully. Inside the kitchen was an adolescent dragon about the size of Garble though more equitably proportioned. His scales were a royal purple, with emerald green eyes and stubby golden horns on his head. "So what's lunch, Flamberge?" Scootaloo asked consolingly. Flamberge swallowed worriedly. "Uh...Celestia Salad Flambe, Vegetable Stew Flambe, lemonade flambe, and creme flambe..." He gestured to the burning salad, the burning bowl of soup, and the glass of lemonade that defied physics and magic by merrily burning as the liquid inside turned black. "Uh...don't you mean Creme Brulee?" Sweetie Belle asked curiously. The dragon glanced sorrowfully back at the charcoal hockey puck that had once been a carefully prepared dessert. "...no..." Glancing towards another dish, he perked up. "But the Baked Crystalia(1) turned out great!" he offered eagerly, showing off the dome of highly toasted meringue. It was a little darker brown than the dish was supposed to be, but it still looked edible. Scootaloo smiled encouragingly. "Good thinking!" she complimented. "I knew you could make this work for you!" Flamberge smiled with pleasure as Sebastian moved to clean up. "Perhaps you should take your friends to the dining hall, My Lady?" he suggested adroitly. "I shall clean this up and prepare a nice salad as a precursor to this dessert, and have both out shortly." Nodding, Scootaloo led her friends towards the dining room. "Don't be scared of Flambe," she reassured them. "He's a real gentle soul with a passion for food...and an unfortunate flame-related allergy to several common spices." "Thus why ya call him Flambe?" Apple Bloom asked. "It sure seems like Sebastian more or less takes care of...well, everything around here. Even cleaning up after the rest o' the help. Scootaloo nodded as she led them to a large table. "Yeah, I'm sure it seems that way," Scootaloo allowed. "But things aren't always how they seem at first impressions, especially on this side of Canterlot." "Oh!" Sweetie Belle piped up excitedly. "Are they a secret defense force for you and the manor? That'd explain a dragon chef...and Silver Tongue could be escaped from a minotaur super soldier program which is why he's so scrawny and strong! And Deik-Beck's bound to have combat protocols! And Gretchen's far-sightedness - especially in an owl - must have been super useful as a sniper assassin!" Scootaloo stared at Sweetie Belle. "...why under Sun, Moon, and Stars would you think all that?" she asked carefully. "Blame Spike," Apple Bloom offered with a groan. "Spike?" Scootaloo asked curiously. Sweetie Belle chuckled nervously. "We were both pretty distressed over you being missing for so long. Spike came over to the Boutique a lot to 'help me through it' - mostly to impress Rarity - and he shared a lot of his comic books with me." Scootaloo chuckled, shaking her head. "Yeah, no wonder you came up with such crazy ideas." When the laughter faded, silence hung over the table. "...and this is where you want the explanation?" she asked calmly. Both her friends nodded. "If yer up to it," Apple Bloom offered comfortingly. Scootaloo closed her visible eye, taking a few deep breaths in preparation. (1) Equivalent of Baked Alaska.