Sanguine Hall was grand and really rather hospitable but still far from what Cadence had been expecting.
I suppose, after only reading about Marchion from old histories, she’d expected some sort of stone fortress with flags hanging from the walls and guards at every corner.
Instead, she found herself welcomed into the lounge by the flawlessly polite but gloomy-looking butler and was now sitting in a floral-patterned armchair, sipping tea, chuckling at Ninienne’s joke.
The denizens of the hall were taken aback, to say the least, by the alicorn’s arrival but, upon hearing she was there to clear up the inheritance of the late Prince Herod, they had been only too kind to have her join them. Blueblood had entered at roundabout the same time and had immediately fallen upon her with pleasantries, claiming the Lady Cadence to be one of his oldest and dearest friends at Canterlot, the two of them apparently among the few Princess Celestia felt she could trust. Cadence had better things to do, however, than dispel him.
If he felt relaxed, he could talk a whole lot easier.
The massive chauffeur, Conkers, had entered with Blueblood and was, on his instruction, passing round a plate of biscuits. Cadence had taken a small crunchy, knotted pastry, dusted with cinnamon, and found it to be quite delicious, taking a second.
“They’re from Bayjing. Uncle Persnickety brings them with him on weekends for afternoon tea.” Bayard pointed out “They’re his favourite too. He says you have to know where to look.”
“Well, that holds good for more than biscuits, Mr Bayard.” Cadence said knowingly then noticed the atmosphere growing a bit more edgy. Smiles faded and conversations silenced. Behind her, Aeschylus rattled a spoon against a porcelain cup.
She’d cast a gloom.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to bring up anything unpleasant.” she assured “Please don’t think that I’m here to look into anything other than the matters of the princedom’s succession and, if I can, those anonymous letters.”
She heard Maeve give a cluck of bafflement.
“Is that treated as a crime in Canterlot?” she queried with slight derision.
“Well, in such circumstances, it could be grounds for a breach of the peace.”
“Huh!” the mare snorted “Peace? In this house? Some hope.”
Among all the Sanguine matriarchs, Maeve was the youngest, or at least liked to look as much. Her mane was a bluish-silver and arranged in ringlets over her head and she wore a thick lipstick that made her sneers and smirks that much more prominent. Dressed in a silver gown with a fur collar and a white, wide-brimmed sunhat with a veil, she was hard to miss in a crowd and, no doubt, liked it that way. Of all the family, she was being the least welcoming to Cadence in the short time she’d known her.
“Would anypony mind my questions? At this time?”
“Not at all, my lady.” Gwendoline spoke up, speaking softly but firmly in that stately manner of hers “If you are here to ease our family’s struggle at this moment, we are happy to help however way we can.”
“Thank you, ma’am.” Cadence gave her a smile and settled in her chair, adopting a frank tone.
“On the evening of his birthday, Prince Herod appeared to have...done himself rather too well at dinner.”
“You see, I told you. Brimming with curiosity is our Lady Cadence.” Blueblood chuckled, tapping the side of his head “She’s quite something when she gets on the trail, let me tell you!”
“Don’t interrupt, Blueblood.” His mother shushed him before turning to her guest with a solemn expression “I fear so, my lady. He overindulged terribly. He ate tinned crayfish and drank champagne, both of which were expressly forbidden”
“I see. And later on?”
“After dinner, you mean?” The mare thought back “He took medicine for the indigestion that would inevitably follow, and there was always a hot drink. Either at bedtime or if he woke during the night.”
“A hot drink?” Cadence nodded, remembering Persnickety’s suspicions “Prepared by whom?”
“By Gwen.” Cordelia answered, not with any tone of accusation, simply factual “Isn’t that right, Gwen? You told me you always made Papa’s drink.”
“No, Cordy. Not that night.” Gwen answered “My lady, since my husband’s death, I kept house for my father-in-law.” She rolled her eyes with a sigh “A task, I may say, which was arduous as my thanks for it were small.”
Maeve also sighed.
“There she goes again. One of us got what we wanted at least.”
“Maeve, that is simply not true.” Gwen said, about as sharply to her as she could be with her son “I liked Papa. I had him to thank for a great deal. He could make my life extremely difficult but there were some labours I did not begrudge.” she drew herself up primly “And yes, making Papa’s hot drink was one of my tasks but of late, with Papa’s consent, a certain pony usurped that duty, as if by divine right.”
“Do you mean Miss Honeysuckle?”
“I tell you, Cadence, that disgusting harpy treated mummy like a common scullery-maid.” Blueblood griped.
“Now you know it was never quite that serious, Blueblood” his mother retorted “But to be sure my duties here were made substantially more trying by her presence and steady influence over Prince Herod.”
“Oh Gwen. You should’ve said.” Ninienne reached over and held her sister-in-law’s hoof in a tender manner.
“No Sanguine ever suffered in silence, Gwen dear. ‘Nothing shall come of nothing’.” Cordelia added knowingly, quoting King Drear.
At this, Gwendoline gave a small lilting laughter and quoted in turn.
“Unhappy that I am, I cannot heave my heart into my mouth. I love your majesty according to my bond; no more nor less.”
She’d quoted perfectly with eloquence and style, Cadence could tell it wasn’t her first time quoting the line or even the second, and it prompted joyous laughter and cheer from her family who tapped their hooves on the ground in approval, Blueblood doing so the loudest and longest.
“Very good, Miss Gwendoline.” Cadence complimented.
“You should see mummy on the stage, Cadence, tops all the greats.” Blueblood insisted “It’s always brought a tear to my eye, ever since I was a foal.”
“No need to flatter me, Blueblood. I’m not Papa, I’ve no stomach for that sort of thing.” Gwen said firmly, though her heart-warmed smile giving away clear signs of grateful adoration for the colt.
Maeve had done nothing more than roll her eyes at the show before her.
“But it was Miss Honeysuckle who prepared the hot drink that evening.”
“I believe so, isn’t that right Aeschylus?”
“Yes, Madam.” Aeschylus answered his reedy, solemn voice, near invisible until now “Miss Honeysuckle heated the drink and I took it to Prince Herod’s room in a thermos and set it by his bed. He refused to take it then and there.” he shuffled awkwardly “He was, if Prince Blueblood will pardon me, in rather a temper, my lady.”
Blueblood shrugged, nodding in agreement.
Cadence was still coming to terms with the fact that, by all rights, if Honeysuckle lost the inheritance through one means or another and the terms of the first will were carried, Blueblood would indeed be a prince.
She dreaded to imagine how difficult that would be to cope with.
“And the medicine for his indigestion?” she asked.
“Oh, he didn’t need any persuading to take that, my lady.” the butler answered, his voice beginning to crack as he recollected the night’s tragedy “The pain...r-r-raged at him...something awful. He took M-M-Milk of Magnesia...t-to aid his stomach, my lady. It was kept by the bedside, l-like the thermos...but...” He reached for a handkerchief “It didn’t help him...not this time...” And the old stallion began openly weeping.
Before Cadence could react, Maeve’s shrill snap cut the silence.
“For Paradise sake, Aeschylus! Here, now? Must you really start blubbing?! The old stallion’s dead and gone! You’ll have better luck waking us than you will him, carrying on like this!”
“Maeve! That is enough!”
Blueblood was standing upright, having risen from his armchair and was now glaring at his aunt commandingly, in a manner not unlike Prince Herod. Maeve drew back with alarm and found it that much harder to glare back, trying to turn her head away with feigned disinterest.
“You know what Papa meant to him. We all do.” the stallion of the house said sharply before turning to the butler, the closest thing he ever had to a father “Come here, old steed, let it out.”
Opening his forehoof, he hugged the old butler who began sobbing into his ward’s shoulder. Like a mother cradling an upset foal, Blueblood gently rocked him side-to-side. Conkers walked up and took his father by the shoulder as his master supported him.
“I know, I know. I’m going to miss him too.” he said warmly.
Cadence was stunned. He hadn’t ever expected this level of compassion from a pony like Blueblood yet here it was.
He must have really been close to the old steed.
Out the corner of her eye, Cadence caught Gwendoline looking at her son with nothing more than earnest pride.
After the atmosphere had cleared, she’d requested a closer look at the crime scene. How the family thought it would aid in choosing an heir for the Sanguine household she couldn’t tell but they seemed ready enough to help.
Aeschylus had gathered himself once more and took her up to Room Juliet, Prince Herod’s bedchambers.
The bed had been remade and the room had been recently cleaned. She could smell a slight but distinct tang of disinfectant about the place.
Ordinarily it would be expected from a household that had thought their eldest member had simply died of natural causes but still...
Cadence paced about the room as Aeschylus described the scene of Prince Herod’s last moments.
“I got him into his bedclothes, my lady. He was carrying on, shouting at me, saying as how I was to fetch Mr Runcible...he’s the family solicitor.”
“Yes, I’m aware.” Cadence replied “Mr Aeschylus, could you tell me, one more time, what exactly was on the bedside table?”
“Let’s see...” the butler thought back “There was the indigestion medicine, my lady, first and foremost. There was the decanter of brandy, usually mixed with soda water by Madam Gwendoline, for the sake of Prince Herod’s digestion. There was the thermos with his hot drink. A cup and saucer. Oh, and a spoon for the medicine. All brought up on a thin wooden tray”
He was remarkably well-detailed. Age hadn’t dulled his senses, it seemed.
She made sure to write it down on a notepad Shining had lent to her.
“Have they been washed since then?”
“Washed and used again, my lady.” Aeschylus explained “It was all spilt. The medicine, the thermos, the lot. It was a shocking mess! Soaked the carpet, splashed all over the wardrobe, some of it even landed in the cat’s bowl! We had to go at it with the carbolic.”
“Was his temper really that bad?” Cadence asked.
“I’d seen him on worse nights, my lady.” the old steed said with a weighty sigh “Age had not been kind to him. And one thing that always set him off was being reminded of that fact. He hated all these precautions, his medicine, his diet, his check-ups with Dr Caraway. He refused to be treated like some impaired old stooge, he was always saying.”
Cadence nodded, her attention turned towards a small wooden object resting on the edge of the bedside table.
She held it up.
“What’s this?”
“Oh that. It was in the old gentlestallion’s hoof when I found him. It’s the bell-push, my lady.” Aeschylus pointed to a tawdry piece of string hanging near the bedpost “We had to prize it from his clutch. In his distress, my lady, he must have pulled it away from the wire.”
Cadence gave it a closer look. It didn’t look like something that had gone through a great deal of force.
“Did you unscrew it in any way?”
“No, my lady, it’s as I found it.”
“Thank you...” Cadence’s eyes flickered with curiosity “You’ve been very helpful, Aeschylus. I think I can manage on my own. I’ll call you if there are any difficulties.”
“Very good, my lady.” And with that, the butler bowed and quietly exited the room.
Alone, Cadence’s horn lit up and took the bell-push apart. It came away in two pieces like a spinning-top and revealed the cord.
She gave it a look.
The end of the string was flat.
It had been clean-cut. Slotted back in place, it would hold but nudged even slightly it would come loose and be of no use to anypony, certainly not an old stallion in distress. She imagined the scene. In the grip of a fatal gastric attack, Prince Herod would not have had the focus necessary to perform any spell. Grabbing for the bell-push had been his only chance.
And it seemed somepony had known that.
Somepony had not wanted Prince Herod to receive the aid necessary to save his life, however possible it may have been.
This was something cold and calculating.
This was murder.
In her rush, she lost her grip on the bell-push. She’d been holding the bottom-half in her hoof but the top fell to the floor and rolled under the bed.
Cursing, Cadence bent down and reached for it, stopping suddenly as hoof-steps sounded behind her. Pulling herself out of the darkness, she noticed the hooves were not of anypony familiar.
The young alicorn slowly looked up to find a young mare with heavy makeup and a vivid blonde mane, dressed in a sleek ebony dress of mourning and looking none too pleased.
“Who are you?” Honeysuckle barked “And the ploughing hell do you think you’re doing?!”
“Playing happy families.”
“Very funny.”
“No, really, look.”
The sergeant of the Canterlot Guard and acting Guard of her Ladyship held up his cards as he turned back to his opponent “Will you oblige me with Mrs Trout the Fishmonger’s Wife?”
“No, you forgot to say please, so now it’s my turn.” Babbles said with a victorious smirk.
Rolling his eyes in frustration, Shining Armour turned back to the newcomer.
“And I don’t seem to be very good at it. Make of that what you will.”
The questioning creature before him was a fat old donkey with a bushy moustache, wrinkled eyes hidden behind spectacles and a khaki tweed jacket and hat, eying him with no small amount of suspicion.
“Sir, I am asking, politely I trust, what your business is with my patient.” he said gruffly “Are you some sort of journalist?”
“Me? Celestia, no!” Shining chortled “I’m with the Royal Guard, if my uniform didn’t give me away. I’m looking into Prince Herod’s death and where it leaves the family.”
He watched for the donkey’s reaction and he got it. The old jack drew back noticeably, his moustache bristling with unnerve.
“You wouldn’t be Dr Caraway by any chance?”
“...I am, sir.” he answered, clearing his throat uncomfortably.
“Excellent. I wouldn’t go anywhere, her ladyship will want a word with you once she’s finished in the big house.” the young stallion said cheerfully.
The doctor grimaced and turned to the filly.
“Miss Babette, I must insist you head back inside at once. You are not well and, as we’ve seen, your infliction could be contagious. After what happened to the cat...”
“Now, I’m sorry, but that’s a pretty nasty thing to say, Doctor.” Shining butted in “No foal wants to be told they killed their own pet. Besides, I’m sure it was nothing to do with her.”
“Sir, Miss Maeve was of the opinion-”
“Aunt Muffy says anything as long as it sounds horrible!” Babbles sulked “She hates them. She never says it but she’s never nice to anypony. I think it’s that green leaf she eats all the time.”
“Miss Babette, that is quite enough out of you!” Dr Caraway suddenly went red in the face, positively snarling “To the house, now, I shall not ask again!”
“Settle down, Doc. She’s fine out here.” Shining Armour said, coolly taking note of the outburst in front of him and what may have caused it “Fresh air and sunshine’s good for a sick foal. And besides, we’re in the middle of a game. Wait for her ladyship and I’ll take care of your patient.”
Breathing deeply, his hooves shaking, Dr Caraway stormed off.
“He’s always like that.” Babette had remained unperturbed at her doctor’s rage. Shining gave credit to her resolve “Now, please may I have Master Twill the Tailor’s Son?”
“You may.” Shining passed her the card, leaning in closer “Now, what’s all this about your Aunt Muffy and her green leaf?”
Babette puffed out her cheeks, rolling her eyes in faux-suspicion.
“How is it any of your business?” she asked.
Tutting, Shining Armour pulled out his secret weapon.
“There.” he passed her a lollipop.
The filly’s eyes lit up as she snatched it eagerly, unwrapping the treat with glee as Shining gave a chuckle.
“I have a little sister who’s twice the smart-flank you are, young lady. I know how to play your game. Now tell me about Aunt Muffy’s green leaf.”
“Well, alright.” Babette explained, between bites of her candy “I always see Aunt Muffy meet Dr Caraway in the garden, behind the hedge, right after tea. He gives her this green leaf and she always hides it in her hoof-bag. I see where Dr Caraway grows it too. It’s in a little glass box near the greenhouse. Mr Scathecraw, he's the gardener, he thinks it’s only weed-trimmings that get thrown in there but I saw it. I see lots of things.” she smiled proudly “I see Conkers kissing a pony outside the road, it looked like a stallion. I see Uncle Montfort, Aunt Cordy’s husband getting out of a carriage with another mare, much younger than Aunt Cordy. And I see my big brother doing lots of gross things with Cousin Rowena. Whenever I caught them, he had to give me lots of extra pocket-money to keep me from telling Papa.” She broke into giggles.
“Is that right?” Shining’s eyebrow rose.
“Older ponies are so stupid. They think because I’m little I don’t see anything that goes on here but I see everything. Being little’s much more fun. I’m going to stay little forever.”
It had taken quite a bit of explaining before Honeysuckle was willing to give her side of the story to Cadence.
She had recognised the alicorn from Alma’s watercolour paintings, finding it strange that Alma Rose had not put Sanguine Hall and its horrors out of her mind.
Now she was staring glumly out the window in the room where the stallion who had been her husband for an hour had died.
“So the second will was signed right here in Prince Herod’s room.” Cadence asked, pacing to and fro, working out the events “And after Mr Runcible and his retinue left, what then?”
Honeysuckle turned to her with a scowl.
“What do you mean ‘what then?’” she snapped “I gave Roddy his hot drink, kissed him good-night and left.”
“And he drank it?”
“Drank it and liked it.”
“And the medicine?”
The young widow’s eyes blazed with indignation.
“Oh I see, you’re expecting me to just come out and say I threw half a bottle of rat poison in there, are you?” she snarled “I’m not even surprised anymore! Ponies around here think I’ve got no ploughing feelings! Well, I have!” She spun round to face the window, her eyes watering as she shook her head, lost of focus.
“I loved him! And I was the only one around here who meant it! He was sweet! When the others weren’t driving him round the twist, he was a perfect gentlecolt. I remember how he always turned up to my performances. Acted beside me in one, I’d never seen him so happy...But now he’s gone! And the money won’t ever make up for that! Now I’ve got no-one! And now the lunatics downstairs send you here to cart me off to the gallows, is that it?!”
Cadence observed her rage with interest.
Miss Honeysuckle had been penting this up for a long time, for a certain.
“You’ve been very frank with me, Miss Honeysuckle.”
“I’ve been frank with you because I’ve got nothing to hide!” she snapped.
“I think you’re wrong there.” Cadence made her tone equally frank “One of the reasons I’m here is because of the practical jokes you played upon Prince Herod. I need hardly ask why. You wanted the blame to fall upon the filly, Babbles.”
Honeysuckle’s ardour caved in. Bowing her head, the fire in her eyes snuffed itself out as she gave a great sigh.
“I knew it...” she said sullenly “He told you, didn’t he. I suppose it serves me right. It says something when you need to frame up a pony less than half your age, even if she is a pain in the flanks. I suppose that’s what I get for thinking I had one friend in this crazy gang. Just goes to show you what a dumb bimbo I was.”
“Wait...” Cadence replayed what she’d just heard in her head “You’re talking about Prince Blueblood?”
“Ha! Princess Blueblood is more like it! That sap! That worm! Gods, he’s worse than his ploughing aunts!” she guffawed derisively “And he thought he could sling me along and hang me out to dry right till the end. Well, the joke was him, wasn’t it? I came out with the house and the money, what’s he got? He’s only Prince so long as that will’s up for question. Tell you this for nothing, I saw Roddy sign and seal it with my own eyes and there’s a solicitor and two gardeners who’ll vouch for me. It’s as genuine as you and I and that means the lot of them are out of the street the moment that penny drops!”
“So, hold on...You and Blueblood were working together to drive Prince Herod to disinherit Babette?”
“Like I said, wasn’t too proud of it.” Honeysuckle sat down on the bed “But we had to do something. He was his favourite, see. And if she got it all, her mom would be pulling the strings and that certainly meant I was out of luck. I know what she thinks about me. Babbles had to go and if her mother followed, so much the better.” She gave a downcast look, lighting a cigarette “Wouldn’t mind to give her son something to get him by. Whatshisname, Bayard. He’s a charming colt, though he daren’t look at me too long in case his sweetheart thinks he’s got too much of Roddy in him.” She gave a dry chuckle.
“You and your son-in-law made an odd couple, it seemed.” Cadence said, sitting down beside her.
“Partners in crime.” the young widow chuckled “Babbles was looking to get everything and old Gormless knew it all too well. He wanted the lot or as much as he could manage. So we came to something of an understanding. We’d look out for each other, play Roddy’s long game and whichever of us came out with the bits, we’d share. The plan was that we’d both stick up for the other whenever Roddy was around. The portrait was going to be the big payoff, see.” She puffed on her cigarette “Give old Alma my apologies for that one, by the way. It was a lovely painting, best I’d ever seen. I was sorry to tamper with it and Gormly felt the same, to give him some credit. Decided not to use anything that couldn’t be removed. Didn’t matter anyway, poor old Roddy went berserk...But then...”
“When you accused Babette, Blueblood kept silent.” Cadence supposed.
The mare's face grew glum and resentful again.
“Left me to face the music. Roddy would never mean to hurt me but when he'd get in a rage...He wasn’t thinking clearly. And when I caught sight of Gormless’s smirk, I thought he’d set me up. So I took off upstairs, hoping I could find a safe spot to cool old Roddy down and explain everything, when I saw the second will.” Her eyes gleamed vindictively “Gormless hadn’t spoken up...So neither did I.”
“I see.” The build-up to the murder was becoming very clear but it still left the murder itself in doubt “But you both worked together on the other jokes? The raspberry cushion for instance.”
“Yeah, I brought it from a shop at the station and Blueblood got that big stallion, Conkers, to distract the servants and both of us snuck it under Roddy’s chair.” After a pause, she burst into a giggle, nudging Cadence with her forehoof.
“You should have seen their faces! It was the most fun I’ve had in this place for months!”
Exiting the bedroom, Cadence was met by Shining Armour, who informed her of what he’d learned, hopping with excitement by the end. Cadence had done the same, the plot thickening around them like cement.
“This ‘green leaf’?” she started “You don’t think...”
“We could be searching for drug dealers here, Cadey!” Shining said, whispering in the corridors “That would make it a national inquiry! And if it had anything to do with Prince Herod’s murder...”
“Goodness...” Cadence shook her head “Okay, Shiney. I need you to go back to our room at the hotel and see if there’s any activity about Marchion. We might need to get the guard on here if it’s serious.”
“No problem. Give Blueblood what for when you get round to him.”
“Shiney.” Cadence stopped him before he took off, turning him to face her and smiling radiantly. Leaning forward, she nuzzled his neck gently, causing him to blush in that vibrant way which always brought her giggles.
“You did very well. I’m counting on you.”
“Y-yes my lady...” Breathless, Shining Armour saluted and departed.
“Just imagine him, my lady, sitting up there all hours making a new will, disinheriting his own flesh and blood!”
Cadence had since made her way on her inquiries to the cocktail room, questioning Cordelia and Maeve on the events of Prince Herod’s last night alive. Cordelia was sitting at a chair, recollecting her side of the story with vehemence as Maeve poured herself a gin and tonic with her back to them.
“I understand your concern, ma’am but I understand that both those wills were drawn up in advance of that evening.”
“Oh, I’m sure it was nothing more than a show for that gods-awful Honeysuckle at the time. But then the little tart took advantage of his rage, clear as crystal.” the old mare bristled “She’d been waiting for a chance and there and then, she took it. No other member of the family entered his room but her that night, Aeschylus swears to me. I tell you, ma’am, when I get my hooves on that smarmy old Runcible Spoon, he’ll have more than his bits to worry about, hiding this scheme of hers from us!” She leaned in closer, her eyes glinting.
“Do you know, I think we have a good case for proving he was got at.”
Cadence raised an eyebrow.
“By Miss Honeysuckle, I take it?”
“Well, who else?” she shrugged “You saw the letters yourself, that’s why you’re here. And whoever wrote them certainly knows what they’re talking about. The floozy murdered Papa, who else could have done it and for what other reason?”
Cadence eyed her evaluatingly. Cordelia was vindictive, for certain. But she didn’t sound insincere, neither saying too much or too little to make her accusations seem suspicious.
In a family of actors, the signs of dishonesty were great deal better-hidden.
All things considered, it all pointed to Honeysuckle.
“I suppose, ma’am, if Miss Honeysuckle employed, shall we say, duplicitous means to gain the family fortune, up to and including the murder of Prince Herod Sanguine, it would be my duty to arrest the mare.”
“Quite a bit more than that, my lady. In Marchion, there's only one place for those who commit murder, let alone regicide...” she sipped her cocktail, her mouth twisting into a cold leer.
“The gallows.”
Cadence nearly jumped in her chair. Her eyes widened significantly.
“You...hang criminals here?”
“The murderers, certainly. Since its earliest foundations, Marchion has punished said crime appropriately and, under the terms and conditions of the Charter of Vassalhood, signed by King Roth Redstar Sanguine and Laurelore the Firsticorn, that rule is kept alive here. One of the reasons Gormless stays in Canterlot. It used to be beheading. The first Sanguines were rather keen on the custom, sad to say, but we adapted to something somewhat cleaner. Does the job just as well though and if Honeysuckle’s found out, it’ll do quite nicely for her.”
Cadence weighed her words.
Honeysuckle’s situation was looking bleaker and bleaker and if she was being framed, whoever was doing so was pursuing her death as viciously as they may have pursued Prince Herod’s.
Foulness was afoot indeed.
“So, you are certain it was poison that killed your father, Madam Cordelia?”
“Oh, we’re all certain but you’ll never hear the others say so, not in public in any case. Don’t let the circumstances throw you off. Papa ate far worse on occasion and always found a way to get out of bed eventually. Foolish old stallion, he never liste-”
She stopped as Maeve suddenly and without any real warning, burst into tears before them. Weeping loudly and openly, she continued for some time, waving a handkerchief under her cheeks, before she turned to Lady Cadence who stared perplexed.
“Oh your grace...” she wailed “Your grace, forgive me...forgive me...But please hear me, for the dearness we held with each other in ages far kinder than the point of ends we are now forced to cross!”
“S-s-sorry, what?” the alicorn drew back and turned to Cordelia.
The old mare was facehoofing as her sister flung herself towards the window and made a show of gazing out at it.
“Sometimes...death comes not as an enemy but as a friend.” she sighed “By day, they talk and think of money, by night they dream of it. But for what you might call murder, there is a stronger motive than greed!” She sniffed loudly “There is love. That’s why I did what needed to be done.” She sat down and shook with sobs “Do you think I could bear to see my beloved in constant pain?! What kind of mare do you take me for?! Was I to look on and see him in the prison of his maimed body?! Oh gods, but I loathe airships!”
“Wha...airship...beloved...what?” Cadence was at a loss for words as Maeve threw herself before her, on her knees, and clasped her forehoof.
“The others...His ‘devoted’ family...” she bawled “They wanted him dead...So that they might inherit...But I...I wanted him at peace...That is why I did it...And I’m glad!” She stood up suddenly and bellowed “Glad, do you hear? Glad, glad, glad!”
She breathed deep and looked down upon her with an austere gaze.
“You will, of course, wish me to go with your guard, your grace. There are...goodbyes to be said. May I crave a moment?”
Without waiting for a reply, she strode to the door, paused at the end table, finished her cocktail and turned back to her.
“I shall return. You have my word.”
And she was gone.
“....I’m sorry, I’m a little lost.” Cadence said at last.
Cordelia sighed and set about pouring her visitor a cocktail.
“Have you ever seen ‘In The Court Of Lady Maidenspool’, my lady?” she asked.
Cadence shook her head.
“Just as well, it’s no masterpiece. They were due to perform it at the local theatre last year but the backers got cold hooves.”
She rolled her eyes as she handed her a glass of brandy.
“Poor old Muffy’s been dying to make that Act 3 speech ever since...Will you take soda?”
“No thanks.” Cadence said flatly as she drank it down neat.
The hotel in which he and Cadence were staying, the Baldrickstead Baths, was just outside the city square, a comely place but, as it turned out, rather full at this time. Cadence and Shining had been forced to take a double room...with a single bed.
Shining was anticipating the night’s sleep with what could either have been eagerness or dread, he wasn’t entirely sure.
Retrieving the keys from the clerk, he made his way up the stairs and stopped.
The door to their room was slightly open.
Someone had broken in.
His horn lighting up, his sword lifting inches out of its sheath, ready to strike as he gingerly nudged the door more open and gingerly took a step inside.
Feeling the hoof clutch the scruff of his cloak in a mere moment, he found himself yanked inside and slammed against the wall. Robbed of focus, his sword clattered to the ground as another hoof grabbed him by his cheek and tilted his head around in an almost curious gesture.
A stallion, hidden in the darkness of the room, tutted.
“Not fast enough, Shining Armour, not nearly fast enough...”
The unicorn’s eyes widened.
He knew that voice.
“Where has your training gone, I wonder?”
The lights came on, the switch pressed by a large wing on his captors’ shoulder, revealing a tall, muscular pegasus with a coat of black, brown and cream streaks running down his body, a silver ponytail of a mane and pair of gleaming, ever-alert eyes set on his old student.
He wore the armour of a Royal Guard, decorated with intricate inlays and sigils of a Colonel.
Shining Armour’s jaw dropped as he recognised the pony before him.
“Peregrine!”
“Hello, Shining.” his old mentor chuckled “What have you been getting up to?”