The Kingdom of Equestria was a proud and prosperous land that prided itself on the shining example of friendship that it projected to all the world. Indeed, it was a country that was renowned for its firsts, and for good reason.
It was the first Kingdom to be founded on the principles of friendship and harmony, for example. It was also the first to be led by alicorn sisters, the first to develop the modern fainting sofa, and the first to develop fully functional party cannons, among other things.
And upon this glorious morning, there was another first being made.
For the first time in recorded history, Princess Celestia was wondering what sneaky little trick her husband had come up with to disrupt and break her concentration while she raised the sun.
Oh, he looked innocent enough. Standing under her wing with a smug little smile, he calmly watched the eastern hills with an air of delighted anticipation. To a casual observer, he was simply waiting to see his wife work the magic she had worked for centuries.
But Celestia knew better. The delightful stallion she claimed as her own was doubtlessly brewing some sort of plan. That smug smile was just a bit too smug, that idle stance a bit too idle.
He looked like a stallion who had already set his master plan into motion, and was now simply waiting to reap the results.
“How did you sleep last night?” Celestia casually asked while lighting her horn.
“I slept fine, thank you,” he casually replied. “How about you?”
Celestia’s magic reached out for her sun in careful, watchful waves. “I slept well, as well.”
“Good!” Bean happily replied. “Do you think Luna had an uneventful evening?”
Celestia’s gaze went airborne, then swept around the balcony for her sister, who would just love to be involved with one of Bean’s ulterior motives. “I hope she did, but I am afraid I could not say for sure.”
“Huh,” Bean remarked with a shrug. “Well, at least she was on time with the moon.”
Oo, what are you planning? Celestia thought while her magic slowly touched the sun.
“Of course, I don’t remember Luna ever being late.”
Celestia’s body tensed, anticipating an attack from some unseen angle. When no dark blue blur of sisterly assault appeared, Celestia relaxed slightly and her magic began inching up the sun.
“Are you sure you’re alright?” Bean asked with what sounded like a hint of jest in his voice. “You seem tense this morning.”
“Not at all. I am as calm as a summer breeze.”
“Oh, okay then.” He shrugged. “Please, carry on then.”
This was going to go down as the slowest sunrise that had ever occurred. Celestia moved her orb upwards by fractions of degrees for several minutes, until Bean nuzzled her neck slightly.
“You might want to hurry. You’ll start a doomsday cult if you hesitate much longer.”
“All right, out with it.”
“Out with what?”
“You have some devious plan to interrupt the sunrise. What is it?”
“What, me?” he asked. “I have no plans at all to do anything of the sort! Please, don’t hold back because of me. I am simply enjoying the sunrise with you, nothing more.”
“You promise?”
“Cross my heart, hope to fly, stick a cupcake in my eye,” he replied.
Celestia would have conjured up a cupcake at that moment so he could make good on his promise, but that would make her drop the sun. Clever boy.
“All right. I’m going to finish raising the sun.”
“Go for it.”
“Up it goes.”
“Up it goes,” he parroted back.
“Into the sky, where it belongs.”
“My love, I double pinkie swear I am not going to do anything,” he chuckled. “Go ahead and finish. I just want to watch.”
Celestia took him at his word with a quick laugh, and the rest of the sunrise proceeded at the normal pace. Once she was done, Bean came out from under her wing, reared up, and gave her a deep kiss.
“I’ve been interrupting you too much during the sunrise,” he offered once they came up for air, “and it’s not something that should be taken lightly. I shouldn’t be playing around with something so important.”
“I don’t mind if you tease every now and then, you know.”
“I know. I just got to thinking about that last night, and I remembered that talk we had when you told me about the first time you raised the sun. This is something that is important to all life on this planet. I need to let you work, then I can tease you.”
Celestia gave him a wary look. “You’re not just saying this to appease me for some reason, right?”
“No, definitely no.” He shook his head quickly and emphatically. “I’m doing it because I need to respect what you do. I wouldn’t appreciate it if you kept interrupting me while I tried to cook, after all.”
“Very well,” she offered, and she gave him a quick peck. Her eyes then moved off of him and off towards the sunrise, and her smile deepened.
“What is it?”
“It looks like we will have an unexpected visitor this morning.”
“We will?” Bean asked, and he turned to see who was coming.
“Yes. An old friend of mine, actually. Here she comes now.”
“Where?” Bean asked, as he shielded his eyes with one hoof. “I don’t see anypony.”
“That’s because it’s not a pony,” Celestia replied.
Bean was puzzled for a moment more, but then he caught sight of a large, magnificent bird flying directly towards them. He took a step back in amazement while he watched the fiery streaks of red and gold sweep across the sky with the strong and powerful flaps of each wing, and he felt a little thrill run from his chest down to his hooves.
“What is that?”
The bird swooped around the pair once with a caw of delight, and Celestia offered an outstretched hoof for her to land on. Once she had landed, Celestia offered her a quick nuzzle, and then turned so that she was facing Bean.
“My love, meet Philomena. She is my pet phoenix.”
“Wow!” Bean looked like a colt on Hearth’s Warming Morning who had just seen the size of his haul. “I thought phoenixes were just a legend!”
“No, they’re very much real,” Celestia laughed while Bean looked the tall and graceful bird over. “Philomena lives out in the territory of the Dragons, but she does like to drop in on me every now and then.”
“But she’s your pet?” Bean asked, while Philomena began to give him a critical stare.
“Not in the traditional sense. Phoenixes are very free-spirited animals, so unlike a dog or a cat, you need to let them roam free. If I kept her in a cage, I would crush her spirit and she would be perpetually depressed. I rescued her from dragons when she was still a hatchling, and she comes to live with me whenever it is time for her renewal.”
“So she needs to do the whole ‘born from ashes’ thing right now?”
“Thankfully, she has recently gone through her rebirth cycle, so this is just a friendly visit,” Celestia replied while Philomena hopped off her hoof and took one quick flap onto Bean’s back. “Oh, hold still. She’s seeing if you’re nice or not.”
“She is?”
“Now, Philomena, this is Baked Bean,” Celestia stated. “He is my mate now.”
A confused chirp came out, and Bean felt her hop up and down his back while she investigated.
“Yes. He’s a good pony. You can trust him.”
Bean let out a small yelp of pain when she pecked the nape of his neck, but then he felt her hop up on top of his head. She then bent in half to look down at him, and Bean could somehow tell she was smiling.
“She’s surprisingly light. I hardly feel her up there,” Bean remarked.
“Well, she’s been working on keeping her figure slim,” Celestia chuckled. “She likes you.”
“Hello, Philomena,” Bean offered with a cheerful smile. “It’s nice to meet you.”
Philomena offered a happy caw in return, gave him a quick nuzzle, and Bean laughed a bit as he felt her settle into his mane.
“Well, I do believe she will be staying with you for awhile,” Celestia remarked with a large smile. “She only sits like that when she’s comfortable. You’ve just made a new friend.”
“And I bet it is the start of something beautiful,” Bean replied with a matching chirp of agreeance from the phoenix.
* * ✹ * *
“Are you ready for breakfast too?” Bean asked, and Philomena gave a squawk of eagerness from her perch at the table.
“Here you go!” Celestia replied while placing a plate of pancakes down for him and what looked like small, grape-sized rubies in a bowl for the phoenix.
“Wait. Are these fireberries?” Bean asked as he took one in hoof and sniffed it.
“They are.”
“My dad would have sold his firstborn son to get his hooves on just one of these.” Bean’s eyes went wide in awe while he studied every inch of the fruit. “Super rare, and super expensive. We were always told it was because they only grow out in the dragon’s lands, so ponies can’t get to them.”
“That is true, but there is one bush in the gardens’ greenhouse that grows them,” Celestia replied. “The grounds staff does an excellent job of caring for it, so there’s always a healthy batch ready to go. I’ll arrange to have a dozen or so sent to Garbanzo.”
“He’s going to be singing your praises, if he wasn’t already,” Bean remarked. He held the berry out towards Philomena in a hoof, and in a flash, she pecked it away and ate it with another happy chirp.
“What did he want to make with them?”
“There was some sort of spread he wanted to try and make with them, like Zap Apple jam, and there’s a few salads he wanted to toss them into. Seems like there were a couple of recipes he wanted to try out as well, but I don’t remember which ones. May I have one?”
Philomena gave a two-note chirp that sounded like she gave him permission to do so, and he chuckled a bit while he popped one in his mouth.
“Thanks. Huh. That is… not at all what I expected.”
“Oh, really?” Celestia laughed.
“Not at all. It’s surprisingly sweet, and smooth. There’s heat to it, but it’s not spicy heat. It’s temperature heat. Wow.”
“Just don’t eat too many of them,” Celestia warned. “They tend to give ponies upset stomachs when eaten raw. They’re best when they’re cooked with something else.”
“Gotcha. I’ll keep it down.” He held up another berry, and it disappeared just as quickly. “Besides, I think Philomena is hungry.”
“Maybe a little,” Celestia replied, but then a mischievous twinkle came to her eye. “You know, you two should spend the day together.”
“Yeah? That sounds like fun to me,” Bean replied with Philomena’s caw of agreeance. “Will the Ministers be okay with her?”
“They have met her before, so there should be no issues,” Celestia observed. “Besides, it’s not very wise to upset a phoenix.”
“I bet not. Are you still sure you want me to just go crashing in on their meetings? I still don’t think most of them like me.”
“I not only want you to, I think you need to. The Ministry is accountable to the Crown, and I occasionally will do surprise visits to remind them of this fact. They need to know you will make unannounced visits too, and that you will be reviewing their work.”
“I’m not going to know what they’re talking about,” Bean pointed out.
“Then ask them to explain themselves. Drown them in questions, if you want. You will learn about their proposals, and they will know you will be following your inborn gift to stick your nose into things.”
“I do have a knack for that,” he chuckled.
“Wysteria will be accompanying you as well to help, and I plan on getting some paperwork done, so if you need me I won’t be far. If needed, we’ll end court early so I can have a ‘discussion’ with anypony who gave you issues.”
“Do you think it’ll come to that?”
“With Philomena and Wysteria assisting you, I very much doubt it.”
Philomena offered a nod and a smile to Bean with this, and he laughed lightly.
“Well, how can things go wrong with a phoenix on my side?”
* * ✹ * *
“You ready to do this?” Bean asked with a glance back at Philomena. She was comfortably perched on his back, and she gave him a pleased smile and a two-note chirp to signal her readiness.
“Okay, but first, I gotta see the most serious face you can muster. I need you to back me up when I reject a proposal.”
Philomena nodded, and she gave Bean the most furious and annoyed glare she could. Her eyes squinted in deep disapproval, her beak took on a predatory frown, and she threw her shoulders back slightly, as if challenging anypony to take her on.
“Wow, you’re good!” Bean laughed. “Think you can show me how you do that sometime?”
Philomena nodded with a smile and gave a quick peep. She then gave a happy cry when she saw Wysteria round the corner, and with two flaps she was over to the secretary’s offered hoof.
“Well, welcome back!” Wysteria chuckled. “It’s been a little bit, hasn’t it?”
Philomena gave a happy series of chirps, then flapped back to Bean’s back and showed Wysteria her serious face.
“Oh, so you’re helping out? The Prince could use all the help he can get.”
“You know, I’d be offended if that wasn’t the truth,” Bean chuckled. “I’m still a greenhorn when it comes to working with the Ministers and their departments.”
“You’ll get the hang of it, sir. Just follow Philomena’s lead. A good scowl will get you far.”
“Right. So, who’s our first victim?”
Wysteria gave him a dry smile. “I think we’ll have you stop in on a committee meeting regarding waste disposal. It’s due to start in ten minutes, so we can get in right at the onset.”
Bean snickered when he heard Philomena make a gagging noise. “My thoughts exactly. I will completely understand if you decide to fly off.”
“Just this way, sir.” Wysteria motioned down the hall.
~*~
Bean glanced around the empty room before glancing over to Philomena, who gave him a shrug. He then turned to Wysteria, who was flipping pages on her clipboard and making a few notes with her quill.
“Um, Wys? Not that I question your skill, but we are in the right place, I hope?”
“This is where the meeting is scheduled to be,” she replied. “Just give it a minute. The ministers usually run a bit late and they always show up in a single pile.”
“Gotcha. Does every conference room have a comfy chair like this one for my most royal behind?” Bean bounced a bit in his seat to ‘test’ the comfy-ness of it.
“Actually, yes. It’s left empty if there is no Royal in attendance, but it is understood that a Royal could come occupy it at anytime; thus it is always available. We do have to bring in another one if, say, Celestia and Luna both want to attend the meeting, and there might be a bit of a scramble if all three of you show up to the same place. Now that I think of it, I should probably get a contingency plan going because that’s bound to happen sooner or later.”
“I’ll share a seat with Celestia, if that helps.”
Wysteria snorted in amusement. “I bet you would.”
The door to the conference room was then enveloped in a pale blue glow. Bean tried to exude an air of dignity and intelligence, but he was pretty sure it looked like he was trying to pass a kidney stone, especially given the reactions the entering ministers gave him once they noted his presence.
“Your Highness?” Lady Penny Wise asked from somewhere in the midst of the suddenly-remembered respectful stooping. “What are you doing here?”
“Am I not supposed to be here?” Bean replied. Philomena was going to make this both difficult and fun. She was doing a fantastic job of glowering at the nobles, which naturally led to him wanting to both laugh and applaud her skill.
“Of course not. We simply were not expecting you.”
“I see. Well, I am here now, so shall we continue? There’s no need to hold up everything on my account.”
Getting everypony into the room and seated took a few minutes, since introductions were in order and several of the attendees felt that his most Royal Hoof had to be kissed, for some odd reason. Thankfully, the guest list was set at fifteen, which just so happened to be the number of times Bean could stand hearing ‘Your Highness’ in a row without going nuts. Wysteria pulled up a seat next to Bean, clipboard at the ready, and Philomena perched herself on Bean’s head as a puce-colored pony approached the chalkboard at the front of the room.
“I take it Philomena will be attending the meeting with us?” Lady Penny Wise asked, and Philomena ruffled her feathers with a defiant, ‘just try to get rid of me’ stance in response. “Very well. Deputy Draff, please begin your presentation.”
“Just a moment, please.” Wysteria piped up. “Before you begin, I am obligated to inform you all that the Prince has a very busy schedule today, and we will be unable to attend for the entire duration of this meeting.”
“Of course, of course,” Lady Wise said dismissively. “We understand such things happen. Mister Draff?”
“Ah, yes.” He cleared his throat and turned to the board. “Firstly, I wish to thank you all for attending this very important meeting on the current waste management issues that are plaguing our fair kingdom. This is an issue that, if not dealt with in a timely manner, will become rather messy in a hurry.”
Draff chuckled at his own joke, but he was the only one. Bean’s cringe went unnoticed by the group, thankfully, and he sat up a bit straighter to help himself stay focused.
“Let me first start with one good observation, if I may. As a whole, our Kingdom is doing well in general waste management and control. The ponies who have dedicated their lives to the engineering of sanitation are working tirelessly to ensure that our fair Kingdom remains sparkling clean and free of general debris, and for that they deserve our most sincere thanks. However, improvements can always be made, and over the next two hours, I hope we can come to a consensus on the various proposals that I have to present to you.
“The first item is the manner of waste collection. At present, open air wagons are being used by a team of two ponies in most circumstances, but this does lead to air quality concerns, not to mention the…”
“I hate meetings sometimes,” Wysteria muttered under her breath.
~*~
“...that requires us to convert significant amounts of arable land into what amounts to a landfill. For us to continue in such a manner is unwise and slightly unsanitary, and so new methods should be developed to…”
Bean idly tapped his foot as Deputy Draff prodded along with his presentation. He wasn’t sure if it was irony that the first meeting he was able to understand in its entirety was solely about garbage, but it did feel rather poetic, in a pathetic sort of way.
Even Philomena appeared to have just about had enough. For the first twenty minutes of the presentation, she’d tucked her head under a wing and had a nap—Bean couldn’t say that he blamed her for doing so—but now she was perched on top of the chalkboard with a disinterested look of boredom, or perhaps the expression of an arsonist discouraged at the lack of flammable materials in the room.
“...are needed. Now, I believe that such gains can be made by concentrated efforts to encourage a reduction of total usage, which will then…”
Bean tried very hard not to snicker as she began to mimic Draff’s face and mannerisms. Her beak opened and closed in close synchronization of his words, and she put one wing to her chest while sticking her beak in the air. She continued with her haughty act of his presentation for a moment, but when he turned back to the board, she was the perfect picture of innocence.
“...uh,” Draff was thrown off balance for a moment by Philomena’s innocent look. “...um, thus reducing the total acreage needed. Before I go any further, let me point out that relations with the dragons have always been… let’s call it ‘tenuous,’ but I believe that, with the proper motivation, we can—”
“Deputy, if I may?” Bean asked. Though it was not audible, Bean could feel the round of groans from yet another question from the Prince.
“Of course, Your Highness! What is it?” At least Draff was eager to please.
“If I may, let me restate this proposal point, just so I make sure I understand it. You are suggesting that we ship our garbage to the dragon lands, and then somehow convince one of them to incinerate our waste for us?”
“That is the essence of it, yes.”
“That seems a tad bit extreme and rather dubious to me. What dragon is going to want to sit and burn garbage, day after day, for the foreseeable future?”
“I’m glad you asked, because that leads right back to where I was. All creatures have a price, to use a crude saying, and I believe that the lure of bits to add to a dragon’s hoard will be quite motivational. For very little work, the dragon will be able to increase his own wealth, and thus his social standing, from what I know of dragon culture.”
“All right, that may be true, but how much ‘compensation’ are we talking about here? Do you happen to know how much a dragon will want to be paid in order to do this? And what if he wants gems, instead of bits? Will we then have to enter into a contract with Diamond Dogs to provide us with the currency needed, or do our mines produce enough to cover the cost?”
“That is one element I am unaware of, Your Highness.”
“All right. I’m afraid I do need to leave now, if you’ll pardon my rudeness.” Bean stood, and he was pretty extra sure he heard Wysteria offer a nearly-silent ‘thank you’ while she stood with him as well. “Please continue, but Lady Wise, will you please make sure his budgetary cost analysis makes it to Celestia and myself in a timely manner? I’d like to see the cost comparison between our current methods and the cost of hiring a dragon to incinerate our waste.”
“Of course, Your Highness.” Lady Wise replied with a dip of her head.
“Thank you. Deputy Draff, I hope we are able to speak more about this in the future. Good day to you all.”
Bean then strode out of the room, and he did snicker as Philomena flew over his head with a caw of delight at being released from the tedium.
“That was a little too much sitting for you, wasn’t it?” he asked the now cheerful phoenix. “We probably should have stepped out sooner.”
“I was actually hoping you’d stay for a few more minutes.” Wysteria offered a small grin while Philomena landed on Bean’s back. “She had a pretty good impersonation going there. I wanted to see more.”
Philomena blushed a bit in embarrassment of her actions but still smiled smugly.
“I liked it too. Maybe we should go crash another meeting and see your impersonation of the presenter there?”
Philomena nodded adamantly and gave a chirp of delight.
“I think she likes the idea, Wys. How about it?”
“I know just the place, sir.” Wysteria’s smile turned devious. “Follow me.”
* * ✹ * *
Princess Celestia hummed a happy little tune as her quill scratched out a list of very important items. With her beloved’s birthday coming up in short order, she wanted to ensure that everything would be perfect and that his first birthday with her would be one that he would never forget.
“Let me see, what else?” she asked. “Perhaps Discord would enjoy an invitation. He may be busy, but I’m sure he would be pleased to be invited all the same.”
A knock came on the office door, and Celestia’s smile deepened. “Just a bit longer than I expected. Come in!”
“Princess, I must object!”
Celestia’s smile did not wane, but she did give a mental sigh at what was to come as the silver-grey unicorn barged in and took up a defensive position in front of her desk. “What is it, Straight Column?”
“Your... husband! He walked into the Third Subcommittee Budget Conference on the reallocation of road funding variants in Major Bridge Repair!”
“Did he wake anypony up?”
“Yes!”
Celestia offered a soft giggle while Straight Column sputtered at his own impulsive reply.
“I mean, no. Look, these meetings are highly sensitive! We are dealing with roads here! They are a vital and indispensable part of the networks which link all of Equestria!”
“So he made a suggestion, did he?”
“Yes!” Straight Column’s eye twitched, and a vein in his forehead was beginning to bulge. “We can’t have this, Your Highness! He has no concept of proper procedure!”
“Does this mean the road budget will make it out of committee on time this year, instead of being six months late like last time?”
“Well... yes, but it will be rife with errors and shortfalls! It could lead to the end of civilization as we know it!”
“Wow!” Bean exclaimed, and Straight Column let out a rather undignified screech of alarm while quickly spinning to face the music. “End of civilization, huh? I’m doing better than I thought!”
“Your Highness, I didn’t mean—”
“If you didn’t mean it, you wouldn’t be here in my office,” Celestia offered in a warning tone.
“See, I thought I was going to actually end the world with my meddling,” Bean continued, while Philomena glared furiously at the offensive ‘noble.’ “Like, it was going to split in two, explode, and then the remaining bits of rock would be burnt up by the sun. And then! Then I’d have to explain to Luna why all of ponykind was crowded in on her moon, and nothing about that sounds fun. At least Celestia can start over if civilization ends, if there’s still something to work with there.”
“I have started a country before,” Celestia mused. “I bet I could start another one. I’m sure Luna would love to have that thousand years of ruling that she missed on the moon back as well. Maybe this time I’ll make myself and Luna Queens, and my dear Bean can be my King.”
“So I may have exaggerated a bit,” Straight Column admitted. “But I still stand by my statement of proper procedure. My Prince, with no disrespect intended, you simply do not have the education and the experience yet to offer such suggestions. There is a way and a means to everything, and you cannot simply parade in to a meeting, uninvited, and expect to—”
“Oh, hang on,” Bean held up a hoof, and he then let Wysteria float in a stack of papers to the Princess. “That’s the budget you were debating, with my ‘improper suggestions’ added in. I’m not the greatest at math, I admit, but I did some crunching while you were talking about the advantages of type four road base mix. You’ll probably have to explain that one to me again, I got a little lost there.”
“I’m going to go check on that procedural vote downstairs, but then we can head over to the Science and Arts meeting,” Wysteria offered quickly. “I’ll be right back.”
“Here, I’ll head out with you,” Bean offered. “You still want to hang out with us, Philomena?”
She nodded once, but her stare remained on Straight Column. Her head swiveled to keep her glare fixated on him while her body turned with Bean, and she managed to look even more threatening while Bean walked out of the room.
“I’ll see you in just a bit, Love,” he called back, and Celestia nodded absentmindedly.
“Sounds good. I’ll tell Chef Beet to get a nice fireberry soup going. I think you’ll like the texture of it.”
“Can’t wait!” he laughed.
“Now, then,” Celestia asked Straight Column, who had been wondering when and how everything had fallen apart on him. “Tell me, as one servant of Equestria to the other: how far has this distaste of my husband spread through the nobility?”
Straight Column felt a little bit of his former bravado returning. There was strength in numbers, after all, and he knew for a fact that he was not alone in his feelings on this matter. “I can’t give an exact number, but I can assure you that the feeling is mutual.”
“I see.”
“It’s not that we don’t like him, Your Highness. We can all see he has brought you much joy and happiness, and we are happy because of it. But I would not be amiss if I said that you have given your husband too much power and control. By all accounts, he is a Prince Consort, and should be subservient to those who have held office until we, as a body, can come to a majority consensus on his ability to lead. Today it is roads, which I will admit is a more minor issue. But what about tomorrow? Will he begin to write budgets without your approval, or raise taxes while you are blinded by rose-colored glasses? He can cause a great deal of damage if he is left to his own devices just in sheer ignorance, and I dread to think what would happen if you were to be incapacitated for some reason. Do you really trust him to lead our fair kingdom in your absence, should the worst occur?”
Celestia’s gaze remained on the papers Wysteria had just given her, but she did give a short hum of thoughtfulness before offering her official reply.
“Mister Column, how old was I when I ascended to the throne of Equestria?”
Straight Column had the feeling one does half a second before they took a step into a bear trap, and he swallowed hard. “You were sixteen, My Princess.”
“That’s rather young for a ruler, isn’t it?”
“Typically, yes.”
“Yet Commander Hurricane, Princess Platinum, and Chancellor Puddinghead all placed their trust in me, and in fourteen-year-old Luna. That seems rather suicidal, doesn’t it?”
“To a rational mind, yes. But may I point out you were not given sole ownership of the Kingdom.”
“Exactly.” Her eyes now flicked up, and Straight Column wondered what backwater town she’d send him to, and how he would supervise the construction of a new statue in Bean’s honor. “I was offered help by The Three, and I graciously accepted it. Prince Bean is new to government, yes. He does not know proper procedures and protocol, yes. But consider for a moment that what he has to offer to me, to you, and to all of the ministers of Equestria is a fresh outlook, a new viewpoint. He is not burdened with the ingrained expectations on how and why one conducts the business of my little ponies. He looks at everything as we all should: from the viewpoint of a commoner. He evaluates policy based on how it will affect him as he cooks in his family’s restaurant, instead of how you will see the political points adding up in your favor. He is not out to secure his own position, nor does he care about keeping his power. He wants what is best for those who are like him, the ones living and striving in the trenches to make Equestria great. Rather than mocking his lack of intelligence and experience, you ought to try looking at the world the way he does while helping him learn the ropes. It would be rather revelatory if you did.”
Straight Column knew he’d been routed, and he simply nodded. “My most sincere apologies, Your Highness.”
Celestia nodded, and her gaze went back to the list she’d been compiling at first. “Now, since there still seems to be some confusion and debate on this matter, let me be perfectly clear. Prince Baked Bean is my equal, and he will remain so despite whatever objections others may raise. Should I be removed from power for any reason, I would not hesitate to entrust this Kingdom to his care. The Ministry may either come to terms with this, or they will find themselves in an increasingly untenable position that may require drastic action.”
“I understand completely.”
“Good. Is there something else you’d like to discuss?”
“No, Your Highness. That was all.”
“One last thing, before you leave,” Celestia called out as Straight Column entered the doorway. “I have checked Baked Bean’s math here, and other than missing one hoof bridge over a stream in Canterlot which I believe is next to your house, the numbers all line up. I would suggest giving his proposals more weight in the future, they seem fairly sound to me.”
* * ✹ * *
“Are you really surprised that she rejected you in such a manner?” Penny Wise asked with derision.
“I was rather hoping she’d give my concerns serious consideration. I would not have intruded otherwise,” Straight Column grumbled before taking a sip of the vin rouge that had just been placed at the table. “The Prince was being a menace with his proposals and cared not a whit for the proper procedures of submission. We wasted half of the allotted time dealing with his hair brained ideas.”
“This is the new normal, Mister Column,” Penny Wise replied. She was probably trying to laugh, but the sound that emanated from her was closer to the sound of a pony choking on a bite that was too large for their mouth. “We are all just going to have to learn and adapt to his interference.”
“My dear Penny,” Prince Blueblood laughed lightly, “you are the eternal optimist, aren’t you?”
“Unless you know some grand secret that we do not, I do not have a reason to show optimism at this point,” she huffed. “If you will have something that will inspire my hope again, I do pray you will share.”
Blueblood’s magic picked up his own goblet, and he gently swirled the vermillion liquid within while he continued. “There is no great secret to this, my dear. You are simply looking at this problem from a single angle.”
“Oh, is that all?” she nickered in annoyance. “Please, enlighten me.”
“Where there is a will, there is a way,” he offered with a bob of his eyebrows, “and in this particular case, there are several ways to handle our beloved Prince. There are elements in play at this very moment that will see to the removal of the commoner, but it will take time. We simply need to endure for now, and have faith that a force greater than us will provide. Do not despair, my friends. Continue on with your work as best as you can, and trust in me.”
“Trust you?” Straight Column asked. “You are treading into the realm of treason with such talk. We all remain in Canterlot on the mercies of the Princesses, and one wrong move against Bean will lead to a swift and inglorious end. The hope you offer is a fool’s dream, a wish that cannot be fulfilled.”
“Oh, but it can,” he replied with a sneer, and Straight Column could almost swear he had seen a flash of green sweep within his eyes. “I know there is a real and viable solution, and that none of us will suffer the wrath of my Aunts because of it. By the time all has been completed, Baked Bean will be naught but a fading nightmare for all of us. Just let me work, and soon you will see. All of Equestria will see, and then none will ever dare question me again.”