“Why hasn’t it started?” a filly of white coat and two-toned, powder purple and pink mane whined. She stamped her hoof against the cobblestone path leading up to Canterlot Castle.
The dull roar hundreds of the gathered crowd swallowed her voice like a hurricane’s howling wind, lost to the ponies’ chattering while they waited for their princesses to appear through the curtains on the white balcony above.
Lost, that is, to all save four ponies standing with her.
“Patience is a virtue, Sweetie Belle,” Rarity scolded, furrowing her immaculately plucked brows at her little sister.
“But you said it would start at noon!” Sweetie shot back. “It’s at least twelve-thirty!”
On cue, Sweetie’s longtime friend, Scootaloo bobbed her head and buzzed her tiny orange wings. “Definitely! If we were ever this late for school, Miss Cheerilee would have us in detention until my feathers were old, gray, and patchy! And, if I remember, you’ve also said punctu—punctu—being on time was important, too!”
“That’s punctuality, Scootaloo.”
“I was close enough!”
Rarity closed her eyes and sucked in her lips. She could feel the onset of a headache, somewhat of a side-effect of taking the fillies anywhere requiring her to keep a close eye on them—so, anywhere at all. Honestly, had none of her lessons on manners and etiquette taken effect?
She drew in a deep breath, slowly letting it out through her nose. “Punctuality is important, Scootaloo,” she said as patiently as she could. “However, when it comes to the Royal Family and big events like this, sometimes delays happen for some reason or another. Just imagine, what if the Royal Guards felt the crowd was bigger than expected and wanted to organize a few extra sentries or crowd control officers? Or if one of the visiting dignitaries required a bit of extra attention?”
The fillies shared a look, silently considering it. For a moment, Rarity dared to think she’d quieted them.
Then they turned to her. “Well, they could at least tell us!” Scootaloo said. “I mean, really! Couldn’t they just have that loud-mouth pony—”
“Herold,” Sweetie corrected.
“—Whatever. Couldn’t they just have him come out and say it’d be a little longer? Go have lunch and come back in an hour?” Her stomach let out a long, low gurgle. Scootaloo ducked her head, a deep blush colored her cheeks. “I may be a little biased about that lunch part.”
Rarity took another deep breath and made to continue her lecture, but her stomach rumbled. The fillies fixed her with expectant looks, she sucked in her lips and tried to ignore her other two companions’ chuckling at her side. “I’m sure the Coronation will begin shortly,” she forced out through gritted teeth. “And once it’s done and I’ve had my meeting, we can all go have lunch together. Sound fair?”
The fillies thought for a moment, then shrugged and nodded in almost perfect unison. “Okay,” Sweetie said, “but if it takes another half hour, we reserve the right to tell you that we told you so.”
Celestia, give me strength. “Very well. But if it doesn’t, I expect you’ll keep your mouths shut about the entire ordeal. And if you don’t, I’ll be forced to write mother about that unfortunate incident with my sewing machine.”
Sweetie Belle let out a squeak, darting around to hide behind a mare with pearl white coat, pink and white mane, and unspeakable beauty and Prench refinement. “Miss de Lis!” she cried. “Rarity’s being mean!”
Fleur de Lis chuckled and leaned down to nuzzle her mane. “Oui, ma cherie, but you seem to be doing your best to antagonize her today. And knowing she has a business meeting afterward.” She met Sweetie’s eyes, then spoke to Rarity, “Perhaps it would be best if I wrote your mother too, Miss Rarity. A witness to our young troublemakers’ crimes today, non?”
“Now, now, darling. Let’s not get involved in family squabbles,” Fancy Pants chided from his place at her side. He adjusted his monocle and spared a wink to the fillies. “We were all young once, and I’m quite certain I would have complained to my mother for food as well at this hour—why, I was just thinking about that lovely little Istallion restaurant before a few tummies started rumbling!”
Rarity fought to hide a blush. “I didn’t eat much for breakfast,” she mumbled, idly checking the cobblestones for any sign of dust. Oh! There was a smudge on that one. Somepony really should have swept the streets.
Fancy’s easygoing smile fell. In its place, a mask of discipline and an attentive gleam in his eyes Rarity had come to know as his business face. “Nervous?” he asked softly.
She nodded once.
“Perfectly normal, my dear. Just take a few deep breaths and collect yourself. I have full confidence in you, and my contact is well aware of your talent and dedication. You will, to borrow a phrase, blow past this obstacle like it wasn’t even there.” He caught a wry look from Fleur and added, “That charming Wonderbolt, darling. The loud one with the rainbow mane.”
Fleur’s ears twitched in recognition. “Ah, oui! I remember. Such a pity she wouldn’t hear a word about styling it.”
“Yes. But I digress.” Fancy coughed, returning his attention to Rarity. He laid a comforting hoof upon her shoulder and gave it a squeeze. “You’ll be fine.”
Despite his assurance, Rarity couldn’t help but look down and bite her lip. She took a deep breath and held it for a few seconds, then slowly let it out. “Okay. I’ll be fine.”
“There’s my girl,” he praised. “Now, just enjoy the Coronation.” Dropping his voice so only she and Fleur could hear, he added, “If I know our soon-to-be-crowned princess, you’ve plenty of time to gather yourself.”
Rarity’s head snapped up so fast her neck muscles strained. “You know Princess Twilight Sparkle?”
He smiled. “Fleur and I have known her since she was a little filly bouncing on her older brother’s back. Long before she got her wings, in fact.” Shaking his head, Fancy leaned over to peck his wife’s cheek. His smile broadened into a full grin. “If I had to guess, I’d say she’s either nose deep in a book or writing out a grant for another library somewhere.”
A young mare of mulberry coat and blue mane with streaks of purple and magenta sat hunched over her desk. Her keen eyes darted across the last page of a rather thick budget proposal, scanning for any errors, even the presence of an errant comma wouldn’t do.
Her feathers twitched, she chewed on her bottom lip. Everything had to be perfect when she presented her latest venture to her longtime mentor and second mother, Princess Celestia.
“Just Celestia, soon,” the Princess of the Sun would remind her, those soulful purple eyes shining with pride. “Once you reach your majority, you’ll be a Crown Princess with a dominion all your own.”
Twilight put that aside and refocused on the task at hoof. Proposals for renovations and expansions for the Meadow Brook Library of Magical Theory at East Manehattan University had been bogged down in the bureaucracy of Equestrian Parliament for years, each shot down by the Budget Committee.
But Twilight Sparkle was confident her latest proposal would make it through. She had spent the better part of a year researching and compiling budget data, all aimed to find a solution that would provide for the university’s needs and cut cost enough to satisfy the Budget Committee.
While Penny Pincher was, in a word, hawkish when it came to money, the mare was not unreasonable. Prioritizing education had been one of her campaign promises that hit close to home for the middle aged earth pony—Princess Celestia’s Funding Foals’ Future charity made her dreams of a finance degree possible. “Bring down the cost as much as you can,” she told Twilight while out of earshot at a state dinner, “and I will see to it the committee passes your proposal through. But every detail must be accounted for.”
Nothing can be out of place, Twilight reminded herself as she finished looking over the document. With a nod, she levitated the rest of her proposal—all two hundred and sixty-eight pages—and laid them atop their remaining brother. “One more look through couldn’t hurt …”
In the back of her mind, a little voice reminded her to be mindful of her time. The coronation was today at noon, and if she was late, Cadence and Shining Armor would never let her hear the end of it. Not to mention all the playful smiles and musings on the values of punctuality she’d have to endure from Celestia.
“There’s plenty of time,” Twilight muttered. “Celestia only just raised the sun an hour ago. Which means Cadence will come in at eleven with all her regalia to pester me to put mine on, and Shining will be right outside the door waiting in his ceremonial armor to escort us to the balcony.”
Every detail of her coronation had been accounted for, some she would much rather do without. But in the name of tradition, she would go through with it. Despite the crowd and pomp and circumstances that plagued all these big to-dos, she couldn’t help but feel a bit of pride.
A smile tugged at her lips. Her mother and father, Twilight Velvet and Night Light, would be watching from the front row. Idly, she wondered if she’d be able to see their faces from her place on high. Would she be able to see her mother suck in her lips and try to fight back her tears? Or the navy glow of her father’s magic as he dutifully produced a hoof kerchief for his wife, and the warm smile gracing his face while he watched his daughter bow her head to receive her crown?
Twilight closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and held it as she brought a hoof to her chest. Then she let it out slowly, pushing her hoof out in a sweeping gesture like she were banishing the thought. Well, not banishing. Putting it aside.
“Stay focused,” she muttered. “Read this over one last time, then you can get misty-eyed with mom and dad after the coronation.” She began to read again. Her eyes flitted left and right, pouring over each word like she were editing her thesis at Princess Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns.
The sound of hooves thundering down the corridor made her ears flick and brought a frown to her face. Who was galloping through the castle at this hour? With a frustrated sigh, she rose from her seat and flicked her tail. She could hear armor clanking along with each stride. Her feathers bristled.
Twilight strode toward the door, wrapping a tendril of magic around the handle as she walked. There had better be some sort of big emergency, she thought darkly. or whoever I find on the other side is going to get an earful! Maybe even two!
She had a schedule, confound it! One she liked very much and was hoping would hold up today! There was still so much to do, and that was before she even considered getting on those staff appointments Celestia had been prodding her for over the last month or so.
The positions listing was somewhere hidden beneath the grant statements for thaumatological research. Twilight paused in mid-stride and turned to glance back at the desk, bringing a hoof to her chin. Or was it beneath the plans for a new library in Ponyville?
The door burst open to reveal Shining Armor. His face was contorted in panic, his chest heaved as he gasped for breath, and his two-toned blue mane was messier than usual. He wore his polished purple and gold trim armor, without his helmet, oddly enough. His deep blue eyes flitted toward her, then widened. “Twily! We need to move, now!”
Twilight blinked. “Shining Armor? Is something wrong?”
“Wrong? Wrong?” Shining gave a shrill, mirthless laugh. “Yeah, just a bit! Your coronation was supposed to start a half hour ago, and no pony’s been able to find you until right about now!”
Her blood ran cold. “What?” Twilight asked. Her heart hammered in her chest like it wanted to burst through her ribcage. “But—how? Celestia only just raised the sun an hour ago!” she sputtered, eyes darting about for a clock to prove her point.
She found the clock mounted on the far side wall, her eyes widened as she took note of the hour hand pointing midway between the twelve and the one, and the minutes hand creeping slowly, but surely toward the six.
It wasn’t seven-thirty. It was twelve-thirty.
When was the last time she’d looked up to check the clock?
Licking her lips, Twilight turned her gaze back to Shining and made to plead her case as if it would change time for her. “But—”
“There’s no time!” His horn flashed, a pink bubble shield encircled Twilight and lifted her off the ground. Shining Armor turned and raced out the door, carrying Twilight in his wake.
Twilight flailed her hooves, desperately reaching for the safety of the red carpet and stone beneath them. “Put me down!” she yelled. “I can carry myself!”
But Shining paid her no mind. He thundered down the hall in full gallop, his armor rattling every step of the way. He panted for breath, muttering fragmented scoldings and curses under his breath as they went.
“Cady’s got your regalia—thank Celestia somepony kept an eye on it,” he said just loud enough for her to catch. “I swear you’re going to be the death of me—could’ve at least told somepony where you’d be! Don’t know why you couldn’t wait until afterward for this! But, no! Nopony listens to Shining Armor!”
Twilight sucked in a breath. She lit her horn and tried to pry her way free of his shield, but her spell fizzled out. The one thing I can never get him on no matter how hard I try. His stupid shields. “Excuse me, I was in the middle of some very important reviewing for a budget proposal.” Flailing her hooves harder, she added, “And I’m pretty sure you’re not supposed to scold one of your princesses!”
“Not a princess until the crown’s on your head, and I can still scold my baby sister!” he shot back. “Especially when she’s late to her own coronation!”
“I am a full-grown mare, thank you very much! And if you’d stop, we could make it without straining your spell. A quick teleport would—”
His ears perked up. “Teleporting! Good point!” Shining’s horn flashed a blinding bright pink, Twilight felt her coat stand on end as his magic wrapped around her like a full body cast. “Hang on!”
Twilight’s eyes went wide. “No, Shining, wai—”
In a flash and a crack of thunder, they vanished from the hallway. Twilight’s shriek of protest was lost to the rush of arcane energy as the siblings slipped through space and time on their way to their destination. All the while, Twilight couldn’t help but think:
Why couldn’t we have just announced this in the papers and gone about like normal?
Twilight blinked stars from her eyes as she tried to will her surroundings into focus. She laid spread eagle on her back, her tail twitched in agitation. Slowly but surely, the white marble ceiling, gold trim, soft periwinkle walls, and purple and blue banners came into view. The sound of crowd noise made her ears twitch.
They were near the balcony, at least.
She blew a lock of her mane out of her face. For all the things her brother—that goofy, overprotective, sweet, loving stallion—said about her panic attacks, he wasn’t so innocent. “Shining Armor,” she said without breaking her staring contest with the ceiling, her voice devoid of emotion.
“Yeah?” he called from somewhere a few hooves away.
Her left ear flicked. He was nearby. Even better. Twilight furrowed her brows. “I never want to hear another word about how I panic.”
A nervous chuckle came in reply. “Yes, Twily.” He paused to take a breath, then added, “Wouldn’t happen if you paid attention, though.”
She closed her eyes and sucked in her lips, unable to argue. Instead, she swiped at the air with her left hoof, testing to see if she could reach him. “Scoot over here so I can smack you,” Twilight grumbled.
This time he let out a bark of laughter. “Yeah, I think I’ll pass on that,” he said. The clatter and clanking of armor made Twilight flick her ear again. She turned to find him rolling over onto his stomach, their eyes met for a moment. Then his gaze flitted to a point just past her and his ears stood up straight and a familiar goofy smile spread across his face.
“Oh, my! My fiancé and my favorite filly laid out on the floor after a spell gone wrong! Such a delightfully familiar sight.” Cadence’s musical voice and bell-like laughter reached her ears. Twilight turned to face her, frowning at the playful smile and raised eyebrow her future sister-in-law and fellow alicorn aimed back. Cadence tossed a curl of her beautiful tricolored mane over her shoulder and trotted toward them, carrying Shining’s helmet aloft in her magic. “What are we going to do with them, Auntie?” she called over her shoulder.
Princess Celestia stood just inside the balcony, hidden from the crowd by the thick curtains. With a smile as bright and dazzling as her sun, she laughed and shook her head. “I suppose another lecture on punctuality is in order for our newest princess once her coronation is finished,” she said. “I wouldn’t presume to tell you how to—ahem—discipline your fiancé. However, I feel inclined to remind you of our little wager.”
Cadence’s smile faltered. She placed Shining’s helmet atop his head, earning his muttered thanks as he adjusted it to hide the state of his mane. “So, why don’t you tell us what you were up to, Ladybug,” she asked, her tone a bit too sweet to be casual. “The truth, if you please.”
Glancing between her mentor and future sister-in-law, Twilight raised a brow. “Uh … I was looking over that funding proposal for the renovation and expansion of East Manehattan University’s Meadow Brook Library of Magical Theory. Why?”
“Ah!” Princess Celestia fluffed her feathers, aiming a grin at her dejected niece. “Sweet victory. I’ll enjoy that bottle of wine, dear. Mostrato Capusado.”
Cadence stomped a gold-shoed hoof. “That’s not fair!” she whined, pouting at her aunt. “Technically, I was right—she was reading.”
“As part of her ongoing efforts to appease the Budget Committee, yes. Your technicality changes nothing, my dear niece.”
Those ancient purple eyes fell upon Twilight again. The youngest alicorn felt her insides squirm and feathers twitch. Only then did she realize just how loud the crowd sounded, even through those thick curtains hanging just behind her mentor.
She licked her lips. Maybe she could still angle for that low-key announcement idea …
Her face must have betrayed her feeling. Princess Celestia stepped forward to offer a comforting nuzzle. “You’re going to be fine, Twilight,” she said softly. Drawing back a step, she took a deep breath and smiled. “You’ve been an excellent student and friend, and I have little doubt you will make a fine princess.”
Twilight managed to force a crooked smile and nod despite her nerves. “I hope I don’t let you down.”
“Don’t worry about me, dear. Focus on helping all of our subjects.” A flash of humor shone in her eyes. “Though, I would advise you to assume proper posture and put on your business face, or I’ll have to schedule more lessons with Madame Persnickety.”
With a squeak, Twilight stood up straight and wiped the smile off her face, her ears splayed flat against her scalp.
Princess Celestia chuckled. “Oh, never change, Twilight Sparkle. Never change.” Her horn lit a brilliant gold, she floated a pillow over to hover between them.
Gleaming gold and pink star gems had been polished and shined to perfection. Twilight felt her breath catch in her throat. She could see her reflection as clear as the midmorning sun on a cloudless day. All of it had been fitted to her exact size by the castle staff and prepared for this moment—the last day she would walk through the castle halls without such adornments.
She swallowed. It was time, at last. This day had been nearly ten years in the making.
Twilight put on her regalia and tried her best to push her nerves aside. This was a good thing. She could make a difference in the Harmony Province once her lodgings were complete—she could make a difference across the land.
All for her subjects now.
Taking a moment to adjust her peytral so the gemstone was properly centered, Twilight let out a breath through her nose. “I’m ready,” she whispered.
“Yes,” Princess Celestia replied, her voice thick with emotion and pride, “you are.” With one final embrace, she floated the pillow over to a waiting attendant, who bowed as she accepted it. Then, she gestured for Cadence and Shining Armor to take their places.
The pair trotted passed Twilight, though not without sparing a quick hug and nuzzle before they stood with Princess Celestia. With a bow, Shining Armor snapped to attention, then cross-over stepped to face the curtain, his easygoing smile melted into the stern mask of Captain of the Royal Guard. The Royal Guard sounded their trumpets, he led them forward in the ceremonial march, knees raised high and shoulders squared. Cadence followed first, then Princess Celestia—a silent show that the eldest and highest authority would always be waited upon. Always, that was, save for one day.
The coronation of another princess.
She could hear the crowd cheer and stomp their hooves, eager to greet their princesses.
A hush fell over the crowd. Twilight could almost picture Princess Celestia’s patient smile, like a mother waiting for her foals to take their seats at the table.
“Citizens of Equestria,” Princess Celestia called, “I stand before you today a proud mare. Not for anything I have accomplished myself, but for the achievements of a young mare I have watched grow from her days as a filly at my school and throughout her studies in magic. It was with great joy that I watched her ascend into alicornhood, a testament to the hard work, dedication, and willingness to use magic to benefit those around her—values instilled upon her by her loving parents, Night Light and Twilight Velvet, both of whom, I am honored to say, are here with us today.”
Twilight heard another low rumble of hooves stomping in polite applause. She couldn’t help but smile. It might make her mother squirm, but they deserved to be recognized for raising her. Who else could handle a filly with her penchant for magical outbursts and experimentation and stay sane?
Though that first attempt at teleporting had left a permanent scorch mark on the living room floor …
“Without further ado, please welcome Equestria’s newest princess, Twilight Sparkle.”
The curtains shimmered pink as Shining drew them apart. Twilight flinched as sunlight flooded the room, she had to blink a few times to chase away the spots so she could see Cadence, Shining Armor, and Princess Celestia standing near the rails on the pristine white balcony, awaiting her with bright smiles.
Her hooves seemed to move without her command. She walked forward slowly, fighting to keep any sign of nerves off her face as she maintained her stately mask. The twitching in her feathers came more frequent. By her third step, she could see over the railing. She could see the crowd.
It wasn’t a crowd. It was an ocean of ponies that stretch from just inside the castle walls all the way back to Mane Street. She could even see families of pegasi laying on clouds so they could get a better view.
Her heart skipped a beat. That is quite a bit bigger than I ever thought it would be. She hesitated for a step. The teleportation spell leapt to the forefront of her mind. All it would take was a quick magical burst and then, she’d escape all those eyes.
There must have been at least a thousand ponies watching. All of them watching her.
Twilight glanced to Princess Celestia and met her mentor’s gaze. There was no sense of expectancy, simply understanding. The ancient alicorn’s smile never wavered. It was in that instant Twilight understood why Princess Celestia insisted on presenting and coronating Equestria’s newest princess herself:
She knew exactly what it was like—the nation’s eyes were upon her, anxious and eager to see what sort of princess she would be and what she would do to better their lives. And now it was time for that weight to pass to Twilight’s shoulders. But Twilight had a distinct advantage.
Two of them, to be precise. Two princesses with years of experience ruling, and the patience to guide her along.
But it was up to her to make an effort. Just as it was on her to give their subjects—her subjects now, too—a good impression of their newest princess.
Twilight closed her eyes for a couple seconds and took a deep breath. She made her decision, opening her eyes and continuing onward with her head held high and a small, warm smile spread across her face. This was the sort of princess I’ll be, she told herself as she stopped beside Princess Celestia.
Her mentor beckoned her longtime mare-in-waiting, Raven, over.
Raven trotted forward with her head held high. She bowed to each princess before turning to present Princess Celestia with her burden—a plush purple pillow with a gleaming golden crown resting at the center.
Princess Celestia muttered her thanks, levitating the crown for all to see. Silence reigned over the city as she turned to smile at Twilight. “From this day forth, you are Twilight Sparkle, Ruler of the Harmony Province, and Princess of Equestria. May you rule with fairness and compassion.” She lowered the crown.
Twilight felt the cool touch of gold upon her head. Her heart felt like it was fit to burst. Still she held her smile and managed to nod and mutter her thanks in turn. Gazing out over the crowd of ponies gathered before them, she raised a hoof to wave at her new subjects. Then a burst of inspiration hit her.
As Princess—just Celestia now. As Celestia always said: “To rule is to serve.”
She planted her hooves and squared her shoulders, then bowed to the crowd. It took every fiber of self-control not to giggle at the sharp gasps from the nobles and governors in the front rows, all aghast at her audacity. She had just defied every tradition they knew. The scandal!
But then came the roar of the crowd. Earth pony hooves stomped like a thundering herd, unicorns flashed their horns, and pegasi coaxed peals of thunder from their clouds. They cheered in one voice, loud enough to make her ears ring and shake her to the core:
“Hail Princess Twilight! Long live the Princess! Long live the Princess!”