//------------------------------//
// ...My Master Calls Me; I Must Not Say No 
// Story: General Amnesty 
// by Cynewulf 
//------------------------------//

Princess Cadance was uncomfortable.



The long trek through the city had been mostly boring. Malachite had done most of the talking, and Cadance had spent most of her time smiling, waving, and occasionally speaking one on one with ponies at stops. The reaction had been mixed. Not a pony in Canterlot was happy to see Sombra’s former right hoof, but many recognized her and with Celestia gone and Equestria’s alicorns in short supply… Every time they smiled at her, she fought back a reflexive cringe.


It wasn’t that she didn’t appreciate their smiles and their words. The hope that called these things forth were her own hopes, that maybe things could go back to normal. Or, more than that, that Celestia might come back. Or that anything good could happen after this mess.


It was just that they were looking in the wrong place. Whatever Malachite might say or do, the truth was that she was woefully unprepared for even a stint as figurehead waiting for the real Princess to come home. She had nothing to give them but herself, and even that she valued at a straw. Every hoof was outstretched for aid and she would tear off pieces of herself to give them until there was nothing left and the scraps were gone, and even then there would be so many more without a thing. But she would do it. She would give and give and pour herself out like the drink offerings of ancient ponies to barbaric gods of the mountains, and she would be happy.


But already she was tired.


At least it was almost over. Just one or two more stops, and then back to the palace and then her speech. Then bed, probably. She wouldn’t mind a nice, long afternoon nap with her now free husband. Malachite had promised that Shining would be free from his admittedly luxurious imprisonment when the speech was given, and Cadance believed him.


Just a bit more. Just a few more fake smiles, and then finally this ordeal would be over.


They rounded a corner and she looked out at the small crowd lining the street. Young and old, as varied as the other streets. Around a small cafe with it’s shaded awning, she saw a young couple on a date and smiled reflexively.


Once, a long time ago, when Aunt Celestia still ruled and the world seemed brighter and younger, Cadance had discovered her talent for fostering feeling in others. She didn’t plant ideas, or override their own feelings. She did nothing but show them themselves and others. It was a scary thing, sure, but not in the way that ponies occasionally imagined. The terror was not in what one might be induced to think or do, but in what was already there.


As a foal, between clumsily dating Shining and looking after his little sister, now long lost, she had been so obsessed with the idea of romance. She had studied it, tasted it, tried to understand it. But in the end Cadance had given up. It wasn’t a thing of charts and combinations. It was something a great deal more mysterious and complicated than any of that.


For a brief moment, she considered letting control of her power slip. Her glory would shine and reach the pair at their table. The ponies around her would weep, overcome with emotion and love.



But then she turned back. Those two didn’t need her, she felt. Not right now. Oddly, she felt that she had stumbled upon a special moment. They needed each other more.