//------------------------------// // Chapter 21 // Story: Prim Rose's Redemption // by Hope //------------------------------// It was a year before the castle felt stable again. A year of change and adaptation, a year of complaints and requests taken into consideration, until things began to feel permanent, and changes began coming more gradually. But, as with most things in life, change is inevitable. Golden Sparkle entered Prim Rose’s chambers quietly, and without any fanfare she laid her ledger, keys, wax seal, and a small bag of insignia onto Prim’s desk. “I am resigning my post,” Sparkle said, sounding all but defeated. Prim set aside her own work and stood, walking around the table to stand next to Sparkle. “Why? What has happened?” she asked, concerned for the golden mare and the seemingly sudden willingness to depart her post that only a year and a half ago she’d held with zeal and fervor. “The world has moved on without me,” Sparkle said as she looked out of Prim’s door and into the hall, where the new banners of nature were hanging, the sun no longer present. “I find myself unwilling to serve the solar court if it is not called such, and unwilling to accept that Princess Celestia is gone. Prince Spring needs assistants and tutors more than he needs to have a Castalian, and I hath trained thee in all I know. So… Now I am no longer needed.” “You are needed,” Prim insisted, but Sparkle held up a hoof and shook her head. “My decision has been made. I shall be leaving immediately, and recommending that thou art given the post, and thou shalt need to locate and train a new Chamberlain and Seneschal. I recommend that thee leave it unfilled for only a brief time, running the castle alone is not sustainable.” Sparkle turned to leave, but Prim put a hoof to her side. After hesitating for a moment, she put her forelegs around the mare and embraced her. “I have only thee to thank for my ability to sustain Equestria thus far. Without thy guidance, the whole of the country may have fallen in the time since the the tragedy.” Golden hesitated, but slowly returned the embrace, sighing. “Truly what none of the nobility or royalty seem to grasp, is that this nation’s success rest upon the backs of those mares eager and determined enough to take up the tedious but essential tasks that no others wish to do. The cooks, the guards, those who organize it all, they are the lynchpin of Harmony. Not Princesses, no matter who wondrous. Yet we are not recognized or held in high regard. We are expected to do our duties flawlessly, and endlessly. Truly, it is a position that must persist through the ages, I only wish to see it given the respect it deserves. But, since I shall leave it, no longer shall I concern myself with it.” She let go and looked Prim in the eyes. “I shall retire to my family among the hills. Being young and wealthy has its clear advantages. I recommend that thee train and ready a replacement to thy post, so that thou art able to retire as well, before the position consumes thee.” “Of course,” Prim replied with a sympathetic smile, though she had no plans of leaving her post anytime soon. “Then I take my leave. Fare thee well, Prim Rose,” Sparkle said as she walked out the door. “Fare thee well,” Prim replied quietly, watching the golden mare leave, and looking to the things that Sparkle had left. She stacked the Solar ledger with the Lunar one and sighed, staring out the window at the garden lit by the fading evening light as she contemplated potential replacements. None came to mind. “Of course, leave me without time to prepare for thy absence,” Prim grumbled. She then composed a letter, which she would have distributed among the mares in waiting and servants. She did not want a guard to take the post of Chamberlain, but she did compose a letter regarding the post of Seneschal, which the guards would be given. Then, needing to not only inform Princess Luna of the change but also to begin the night’s schedule, she took her ledger and made her way to Princess Luna’s chambers, nodding to Tao and Evenstar as she was let inside. Luna was sitting at a small table next to the window she’d ripped open more than a year before, now the only window left in the castle that had any symbology of the sun in it. The plain clear glass had been replaced with one of the golden stained glass windows that was removed to be replaced with the less contentious natural symbols. Luna had successfully made the case that her chambers were an exception, and now a clear window cast the shadow of a golden sun across the table where Luna picked through a bowl of berries. “Prim, art thou unwell? Thy face is pale, and expression unsettled,” Princess Luna observed. “Perhaps unsettled, but not sickly,” Prim reassured her as she approached. “Golden Sparkle has left. She advised me that she was no longer willing to continue, and believed me ready to serve as Castalian, before departing. I was unable to convince her to stay.” “Hmmm…” Luna poured herself some tea, watching the steam rise before looking at the snowflakes falling outside her window. “Well, there’s nothing to be done. Any agreement or bond she may have had was with our sister, not to the throne. So, she is free to go. Dost thou believe thy ability may rise to meet this challenge?” she asked as she looked back to Prim. She didn’t answer right away. She imagined running the castle herself, what it would entail beyond what she was doing already. Sure it would require her to find some new ponies to serve as Chamberlain and Seneschal, but there were many positions to fill, and though it may take time to find those new ponies it would not be impossible. Could she count on her ability to put the castle in order in times of war? Or emergency? She practically already had, though she’d not needed to seal the gates as the emergency was brought by Celestia, and she was already inside. But these were all duties that she’d at least taken part in or been instructed on. It was clear Sparkle had been divesting herself of duties since the moment of Princess Celestia’s fall, and in effect training Prim. It certainly wasn’t perfect, but it was enough. “I believe that I am capable,” Prim said with a nod. “Though we shall need to acquire new staff immediately to compensate for the sheer number of posts unfilled, now only greater by two.” “Then have it done, take what funds thou shalt need for it, and let us hold a dinner in the morning in celebration!” Luna said cheerfully, standing and putting a wing over Prim’s back. “A celebration?” Prim echoed, confused. “Indeed! Thou art promoted to the greatest station below our own, Prim Rose, it shall be recognized! A feast for all, we shall call in entertainers, and open the gates!” “That seems a bit much,” Prim mumbled, cheeks dark red from flattery and embarrassment. “We are already short of hooves, it may be unkind to press more work upon the staff to put out a feast and great event at such notice…” “Oh Prim, it would be an event for all to enjoy, but… Very well, very well. A more subdued event then, a dinner for ourselves, and any others that thee wish to invite.” Prim thought on it for a moment before smiling. “The children of the night. They seem to desire some exposure to courtly life, and I shall admit I have not grown to know them all that well, so let us have an open invitation to them, that they may enjoy a fine meal and get to know me a little. After all, as Castalian I shall be their guardian in a way, such as a governess.” Luna chuckled. “A governess? Hardly. More to the tune of co-ruler by the work that thou art capable of, and role that thee may play in their young lives. With ourself as the one parent, it is as though thou art the other.” Prim’s mind, though joyful in the thought, did not seek out a platonic fancy, to care for those children in a chaste cohabitation with Princess Luna. No, her mind went quickly to the realm of being anointed consort, and calling the children all her own. Simultaneously a fanciful dream and a clenching nightmare. She could only imagine the fury that the public of Equestria might display at such a thing. “Certainly, I shall care for them deeply,” Prim agreed tamely, looking out the window to avoid meeting Princess Luna’s eyes. “I shall see to the arrangements at once. A meal for eleven children, the two of us, and the four caretakers. Is there anything else?” “No, I suppose there isn’t,” Luna said, looking Prim over suspiciously, confused by her sudden change in demeanor. “Did our statement of thy import frighten thee? Dost thou not wish to be such a figure to these children?” “It is not that at all, your highness. I shall serve to care for them, eagerly, I simply… I am occupied with thoughts of preparations, is all.” “Very well, see to them, and we shall look forward to the dinner,” Luna said as she turned back to her grapes. Just before Prim reached the door, however, Luna looked back to her. “Prim?” “Yes, your Highness?” “Treat thyself to a new addition to thy wardrobe for the occasion. Consider it a small gift.” Prim hesitated before bowing. “Of course. My thanks to thee.” She then hurried out of the room. Once she was in the hallway, she paused, closing her eyes and sighing. Her damned emotions, and her damned heart, aching for someone to love, when she knew she couldn’t have it. Princess Luna, there was no higher star to ache for, no more unattainable precious thing to lust after. Prim shook her head and resumed her trot down the hall, across the great hall, and then through the doors into the kitchen. As always, the kitchen was busy, the sounds of chopping and the smells of cooking were fairly constant, with brief pauses just after each meal during which the sinks were occupied by dishwashers. When Prim entered, Chef spotted her almost immediately, and turned to face her. “An order from the princess?” she asked, not bothering with formalities. “Indeed, she has decided that we shall have a meal after sunrise. The Children of the Night, their four caretakers, the Princess, and myself. Seventeen in total. Thou hast been informed of the children’s preferences?” Chef just pointed at a drawer, and one of the cooks pulled a scroll from it, placing it on a hook on the wall so it rolled open, revealing each child’s name, their allergies or preferences, and foods they were not permitted by their caretakers. “Good,” Prim said, before sighing. “She did not specify what food was to be served, so do whatever is least bothersome to thee and thy staff.” “It is not everyday that we are given a meal order in the tone of one sentenced to death, wert thou forced into this dinner?” Chef asked as she went back to chopping. “More or less, it is to celebrate my appointment to Castalian.” Chef stopped and looked to Prim with a raised brow. “What a… pity?” she said incredulously. “I am pleased to have the post, please do not misunderstand, but… celebrations do not thrill me, when there is a chance I will be their focus.” “Ah, I suppose that is understandable. Well, if thou art ever so miserable that thou art looking for a replacement, I would not turn down that pile of gold,” Chef said with a smirk. “Dost thou wish to be Chamberlain? The position is available.” The Chef quickly grimaced and shook her head. “The gold sounds nice, the position, not as much. I would not like a station that would require me to be… personable.” “Hast thou met Sparkle?” Prim said in retort. “True enough,” Chef laughed. “It may be that I could be my normal abrasive self and serve just as well, but no. The kitchens are where I belong.” “Then I will leave thee to the work,” Prim said with a small bow. “My thanks to thee.” Prim left the kitchens, and stopped again. Dusk court was not for another two hours, and she did not have anything important to do. Princess Luna had told her to get something nice, and if she didn't have something new at the feast, she'd notice. So, with a sigh, she turned and left the castle to go to the shop of Madame Chrysalidae. As Prim approached, she noticed that the cluttered signs in the window were gone. There was a new pane of glass, and now dresses and displays filled the window. The wooden portions of the building looked to have been repainted recently, and when she opened the front door, a shiny new silver bell rung above it, a light and joyful sound. “Welcome!” Sali’s voice called cheerfully from the back, as she trotted closer. When she saw Prim, she hesitated slightly, but still smiled. “Welcome back, Lady Rose,” she said more softly. “What can I do for you?” She did approach, not quite as closely as she had the first time Prim had visited her, but still close enough that Prim felt her cheeks start to warm. “I hath been granted the position of Castalian, and was advised to celebrate. I… know not what to buy myself, besides clothing. Even then, I find myself leery of dresses. It is not an appearance to my liking.” “Of course not. Thou art a rose of thorns, not some velvety violet,” Sali said coyly, stepping even closer. “What dost thou mean by a comparison of flowers?” Prim asked, more suspicious than anything else, concerned that the comparison may somehow be insulting. “Oh dear, thou art unfamiliar with the culture that so clearly fits thy desires, aren't thee?” “I am… not sure what culture thou speaks of,” Prim said, as Sali started walking back to the counter, Prim following. “The culture of those mares and stallions known to be of a queer persuasion,” Sali said as she tended a basket of purple violets on her desk. “Followers of the great poet Sapphire from the island of Lesbos. Lovers… of the fellow mare.” Prim stopped mid step and nearly backed away. “I don’t know why it need be mentioned…” “For it is more than lust, clearly. Flowers have meaning. The violet… a tenderness, a femininity in grace, and beauty of a classical sense,” she said as she tucked a violet into her own mane. “But the rose…” She did not have a rose, but looked to Prim, smiling coyly. “Let us only say that thy name is quite apt. Prim, but of a sort tough and sharp. Not meant to be dressed in silks and delicate lace, but meant to be gilded in silver and clean edges. Hard as a blade being drawn, and as subtle as a dagger in the dark.” When she finished speaking, Sali was nose to nose with Prim, and Prim was stunned to find that she could taste the lingering smell of violets in the air, mingled with Sali’s sweet breath. Prim could not look away, and despite her many racing thoughts, she felt all at once unbound. She took a single step forward, and that was all it took to press their lips together. It was a wonderous thing, that first sloppy, novice kiss. For Prim had never had another, no matter how poor it may have been for Sali, it was the one brilliant star in Prim’s dark sky in that moment. They lingered there, lips pressed close, Prim’s eyes closed and Sali trying to fight a growing smile, until finally Prim stepped back, and opened her eyes, cheeks red and expression bashful. “No, no, do not look so crestfallen after thy first kiss,” Sali chuckled. “To be so honest with thyself, it takes time. Do not hasten to throw up stone walls against the feeling when thou hast not even begun to explore it.” Prim nodded numbly, but her mind was not in the room in that moment. Her mind was with Luna, at Luna’s side and in the sweep of those great wings. “Do not be ashamed if thy heart belongs to another,” Sali said after a long pause, still smiling. “Who said--” “Not a soul, young Prim. But I hath seen thee in court at the side of thy princess, and it is clear to all that know to look… Thou art enraptured by her.” Prim reluctantly nodded. “Thou shalt not tell?” “Not a soul,” Sali repeated, sighing. “I do not suppose thou art in need of a repeat? I hath found that fresh mares always kiss the sweetest.” “N… Not at the moment, if it is alright,” Prim stammered, knowing for certain her cheeks must be crimson. “There… Clothes, were the cause for my visit?” “Ah yes, Rose clothes for a Rose,” Sali said cheerfully, turning back to her shop and taking it all in. Sali seemed more energetic, with more bounce in her step as she buzzed around the shop, picking over clothes and picking out the pieces she preferred, holding them up to Prim and then either adding them to the small pile on the counter, or putting them back. Eventually, she settled on a final outfit. The most striking addition was a piece of clothing clearly meant for a stallion. Trousers. They were made of black cloth with grey trim along the edges, and with bright silver buttons above the tail, rather than a bow or ribbons to tie them closed. Paired with a long sleeved jacket, and a rich purple cape with gold trim, and it was the sort of thing that Prim might expect to see worn by a Duke. “I couldn’t… ‘Tis too much a colt’s attire...” she whispered, in awe of the ensamble as she turned in front of a mirror, admiring herself. “Why dost thou wear thy mane in a braid?” Sali asked, almost sounding bored. Prim looked to her, confused, but Sali just smiled. “Indulge me.” “Because I… Do not enjoy the feeling or appearance of a long mane, touching the side of my neck and looking… looking…” “Feminine,” Sali finished, still smiling. “Because thou art not one to enjoy that taste of femininity. If thou wert not a public figure, I would demand that thou shalt wear thy mane as a zebra would. Short and straight.” “I couldn’t,” Prim repeated. Sali strode up next to Prim and touched a hoof to her chin, turning her head to look into the mirror as she used her magic to place a short brimmed cap with a black feather plume upon her head. “Does it not feel right? Look like thy heart would ask thee to be, if there were no other demands upon it?” Prim stared, unable to think of an argument. Sali was right. When she looked in the mirror, she saw herself. Not some mare trying to look like a Castalian and failing, not a young and foolish filly come from Trothnicum with empty pockets to beg. She looked like Prim Rose had always felt, beneath it all. She looked to Sali, and smiled nervously. “Perhaps… In a bag, that I may wear it in private?” “Of course,” Sali said, her smile turning sly again as she bagged it all up, wrapped in thin paper. “That shall total fifty three gold bits. It is some of my finest stock.” Before Sali even finished her sentence, Prim had placed the pouch of gold on the counter. “All my thanks to thee, for thy… education,” Prim said timidly, clutching the package close. “Of thou art ever in need of further education, be sure to return,” Sali said as she stepped closer yet again, smiling. “Y… yes!” Prim squeaked, before galloping out of the store, only slowing when she was well away from the shop, and she could catch her breath.