The bedroom wasn’t tiny. Tiny, at least, could be called cosy, and cosy was comfortable. The room was only as wide as the bed was long, which is to say the room was narrow, and when the door swung inwards it made it only halfway before hitting the edge of the mattress. The far wall—made of brilliant crystal— angled inwards, which made the ceiling space smaller than the available floor space. It was an odd place, as the rest of the walls were made of fine, well polished wood, and there was an ornamental brass door lever.
Chartreuse reasoned that she only needed the bedroom for sleeping, so this wasn’t that bad. She had the rest of the study and the kitchenette if she needed space, plus the entirety of the Crystal Empire was hers to roam about. This was a far, far safer place than Canterlot, all things considered, and she was looking forwards to the idea of roaming the streets in relative safety. Of course, Chartreuse roamed the streets of Canterlot in relative safety, she was just that sort of filly, and if her former boss was to be believed, one’s primary concern should be looking fabulous at all times.
She plopped her saddlebags down upon the bed, and after a quick look around, realised she didn’t have many options for places to store them. Under the bed might be the only option. The mattress was naked, the bed unmade, and fresh bedding sat in a pile beneath the pillow. Sniffing, she hoped that it was okay to use the kitchenette fridge, because the collection of stinky cheese wedges packed by her mother had to be getting stinkier, but she had some trouble smelling them. When one lived around stinky Fancy cheeses long enough, one tended not to notice the eye watering slap in the face that stinky cheeses produced.
At that moment, for no reason that she could discern of or make sense of at all, she thought of her father’s earthy wisdom, and she missed him. What happens to the hole when the cheese is gone? When she was little, she had laughed at these nonsensical sayings, but as she grew older, little by little, she began to understand her father’s wisdom, his philosophy of cheese.
“Cheese is the lichdom of milk gone bad,” she said to herself while mimicking her father’s rough, throaty accent. “Age doesn’t matter… unless you are a filly or are a cheese. You, my beautiful little daughter, are a filly, though you are no less stinky than the worst of cheeses.” Ears drooping, she stood in the tiny room and for the first time in her life, experienced homesickness. She blushed a bit, thinking of her father’s teasing, and she could almost hear her mother’s soft, musical laughter.
The memories came back in an eye-watering flood. Her father playing the violin, the many jigs her parents danced, the spirited waltzes, the many meals together at the table; these were happy memories, these had been the moments that had shaped her life and made her the filly that she was. Alas, there wasn’t time to cry, or to feel homesick, or even to feel sorry for herself, because Chartreuse heard the sound of a door opening and closing.
The two little fillies were up to no good. They just had that look about them. One was an alicorn, tiny, delicate, and rather nerdy looking, all things considered. The other was the blackest black pony that Chartreuse had ever seen, and she had the most peculiar mismatched eyes; one was pale pink, the other a faded shade of amber. The little black filly also appeared to have a lion’s tail, but at this point Chartreuse was doing her best not to stare.
“Hi. My name is Skyla, and I rule.”
“How do you do?” Chartreuse responded when she got over her initial shock. She bowed her head slightly, quite surprised to see one of Empress Cadance’s daughters in the study. No doubt, there was a guard just outside the door, and a creeping prickle of worry slithered up her neck.
“This is my loyal subject, Quiet Dark.” Skyla blinked, and her long, somewhat curved eyelashes brushed up against the lenses of her spectacles. “Would you like a position in my court?”
“Oh, I would very much like a position in your parent’s court,” Chartreuse replied.
“Drats.” Skyla let out a huff of annoyance while rolling her eyes. “I need more subjects if I am to rule.”
“I suppose you do.” Chartreuse figured it was a good idea to be pleasant to her master’s offspring. “You sound very well spoken, if you don’t mind me saying.”
At this, the little black filly began to giggle.
“Sunburst is my tutor and he has very high standards.” Skyla adjusted her glasses and then continued, “He is also the one who read my cutie mark, and understood what it meant. I was born to rule, and my gift, my talent, is for rulership. My magic will grow in power with the number of subjects that I have who are happy with me and love me. So, I ask again. Would you like to be my subject?”
“Actually, I am here to ask your father if I can be his apprentice.”
“Noted.” Skyla cleared her throat. “Once you finish your education, perhaps then you can be my subject. Now, if you will excuse me, I came here looking for chocolate milk and to escape the tyrants.”
“Oh?” Chartreuse’s eyebrows raised.
“I made a perfectly reasonable request for chocolate milk and cookies, and I was told no. This is not how you run an empire…” Skyla’s face collapsed into a dark scowl. “Sleet is busy dealing with Flurry, because Flurry is freaking out and being a total drama princess, and so I slipped away unnoticed.”
“How devious.”
“Thank you!” Skyla smiled now, and her eyes became bright and merry. “I know there is chocolate milk in the fridge here. Do you think you can help me pour it? If I make a mess, I’ll be in real trouble. I don’t want Sleet finding out about this.”
Now, the two little fillies looked up at Chartreuse with hopeful, happy eyes, and wagging tails. Skyla was smart, but the little black filly, something about her eyes suggested intelligence as well. A quiet, sneaky intelligence, and Chartreuse racked her brain to recall all she knew about the royal family of the Crystal Empire. Dim had a wife, Blackbird, and she was said to be the most skillful scout that Shining Armor had in his employ.
Chartreuse was pretty certain that ‘scout’ meant something else.
“I would be happy to help you get some chocolate milk.” Smiling, the radiant filly beamed, and Chartreuse didn’t think of the potential consequences of her actions, that she shouldn’t be helping Skyla disobey her parents. All she could think of was trying to impress her future master by being good to his daughter, and as such, her intentions were good.
The kitchenette was well stocked, as a worn out wizard needed energy-dense foods to keep the magics going. Chartreuse didn’t mind playing the part of nursemaid, and she knew that it was the responsibility of many an apprentice to look after the master’s foals. Keep them safe, entertained, tutoring them, an apprentice’s work was said to never be done. There was, indeed, chocolate milk in the fridge, as well as wine, bottles of cider, and bright pink bottles of Cadance~Cola.
In the very back of the fridge, hidden up near the light, there was a piece of tape on which there was a message that Chartreuse read aloud: “Gosling was here. This fridge is claimed in the name of royal conquest. Long live the Celestial Empire. Pink stinks!”
Turning her head, a confused Chartreuse looked over at Skyla and asked, “Do you know what this means?”
“Mommy and my uncle play a game of conquest,” Skyla replied. “They claim stuff and then hide their claim in hard to find places. Closets, fridges, pantries, under rugs, everywhere. It drives Mommy crazy because she finds new claims when my uncle hasn’t even been here.”
“Hmm.” Chartreuse thought about the meaning of that, but came to no conclusion.
She pulled three glasses down from the cupboard, three fine green glass tumblers that had a curious rounded triangle shape. A matching plate, also made of green glass, was pulled down, and then another plate as well. In another cupboard, she found a box of crackers, and she still had some fine, stinky cheese in her saddlebags. No parent could be upset about a healthy snack of cheese and crackers.
In the cupboard, stuck to the underside of a shelf, was another piece of tape, and a message, which she also read aloud: “Gosling was here, too. Everything on this shelf is claimed for the Celestial Empire. Get Goosed!”
Hearing this, Quiet began giggling again, while Skyla came over, craned her head, and peered into the cupboard. “That’s tricky… Mommy is too tall to notice that, but we can see it fine.”
“A traitor,” Quiet whispered. “Dun dun dun...”
Sticking out her tongue, which was a far more vivid shade of orange than usual, Chartreuse reached out with her mind, felt around for her saddlebags, rummaged around inside, and pulled out her treasured cheeses. She couldn’t quite conjure them, but she could levitate them and draw them to her.
“Are you going to cut the cheese?” Quiet asked while the cheese came floating by. Her face scrunched up in disgust, and she covered her nose with her front hoof. “Smells like Mama’s wingpits after she’s been flying. Grody!”
“Rude!” Skyla squealed, and she too covered her snoot with one hoof.
“Aw, it’s just cheese.” Chartreuse set it down on the counter, peeled off the wrappers, and inhaled. It smelled like home, which was comforting. “So, how did you end up with a name like Quiet, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“Mama said that Dada needed a little quiet in his life, so she gave him me,” Quiet replied with her eyes crossed. “Dada likes to braid my mane and tail. It helps him be happy.”
“That’s so very sweet!” Chartreuse gushed while she began slicing the cheese. While carving off a slab, she wondered if she would get care packages from her mother, or if she was truly on her own. She didn’t know, and not knowing was the worst. Still, she kept a brave smile on her face, and worked to entertain her guests. It wasn’t much, but having a happy master in Shining Armor couldn’t hurt her chances.
“Is this the kinda cheese you eat on a dare?” Quiet asked, her words muffled by the hoof over her snoot. “That one is blue and there are blue lines in it… ew.”
“Oh, just try it.” Chartreuse smiled and remained focused upon her task. “One time, my aunt, Fleur Dis Lee, she cut the cheese at a party, and the moment she cracked the rind, half of the guests left. Now that I think about it, that was my cute-ceañera. I guess we Fancy ponies come from hardier stock.” She blinked a few times, reminiscing, and this made her miss home in the most awful way. “You girls go sit down, and I’ll finish up in here. I’ll be right out.”
When Chartreuse emerged out into the sitting room where the table was, she discovered that she had one unexpected guest: Shining Armor himself. Everything rattled as she struggled not to drop the plates, platters, and glasses she was holding. The heavy jug of chocolate milk was the worst, and it was difficult to keep everything from hitting the floor.
Skyla was sitting in a chair, her forelegs folded over her barrel, and not looking at her father. Beside her, Quiet was, well, quiet, and looking down at the table. Gritting her teeth, Chartreuse summoned her dignity, her aplomb, and she made her hooves work. With slow, careful steps, she made it to the table, set everything down without making a mess of things, and then, at last, she set down the heavy jug of chocolate milk.
“I see three glasses, and there are four of us,” Shining Armor said in a neutral voice that was devoid of any sort of emotion.
“Right… allow me to correct my mistake,” Chartreuse said, and she slipped off into the kitchenette once more.
When she sat down again, she did so with as much poise as she could muster, and she tried to remember everything that Rarity had ever said about etiquette. There were now four glasses on the table, and it seemed that Shining Armor had helped himself to a slice of cheese and a cracker. He was sniffing them now, his nostrils flaring, and Skyla was still looking away from her father.
“First off, I’m not mad—”
Chartreuse let out a huff of relief.
“—and second, thank you for being good to my daughter. Now, I understand that you wanted to discuss something with me?” Shining Armor began pouring the chocolate milk, pouring a full glass for himself, two half-glasses for Skyla and Quiet, and a full glass for Chartreuse. With a paternal frown, Shining Armor turned to look at Skyla. “You be careful with this… if you spill this… and you know how you spill stuff, you and I are going to be in so much trouble, young lady. If Sleet sniffs you and you smell like sour milk, or worse, your mother, and she knows I was in on it, we’re all dead, do you understand me?”
“Yes!” Skyla huffed, and she rolled her eyes.
“I don’t think you appreciate the risk I’m taking in making you happy,” Shining Armor said.
“I’m not a baby,” Skyla whined, and this time, she did look at her father. “Stop treating me like one.”
Sighing, Shining Armor rolled his eyes and looked at Chartreuse. “What can you do? You can’t win… if I make her drink from a sippy cup so she doesn’t spill stuff, she throws tantrums. If I let her drink from a big filly glass, she spills stuff, and then I get lectured for not being a responsible daddy.” Shaking his head, he slid two glasses of chocolate milk over to his daughter and to Quiet.
It had never occurred to Chartreuse the challenges that parents must face, and now, distracted, she pondered them. She understood though… Empress Cadance wanted clean, stench-free fillies. It was quite reasonable, as far as desires went, as her fillies were a part of her public image. Having dirty, stinky, matted fillies, one might think poorly of their mother. If one could not keep clean, neat, tidy fillies, how could one run an empire? Sure, it was a stretch, but ponies could make this stretch.
“Now, Sunburst tells me that you have something important to talk to me about, and Dim was running around acting like a loon, and claiming to be blinded. To be fair to Dim though… you are rather bright.” Shining Armor smiled, his face now pleasant, and he began eyeing the platter with cheese slices on it.
“Well,” Chartreuse began, and she drew in a deep breath before she continued, “I came here with the hopes that I could become your apprentice…”