Sapphire eyes gazed up at the castle sitting in the distance. Rarity adjusted herself so she was a bit more comfortable in her seat, taking an idle sip of her jasmine tea. Upon Fancy’s advice, the group had relocated to a little spot called the Canterhorn Peak Café, a charming little place that mixed fine décor with the sort of small town comfort she was familiar with as a Ponyville mare, born and raised.
Not to mention, the outdoor seating gave the fillies the chance to enjoy the open air rather than feel cooped up for however long Fancy planned on waiting for his so-called contact to free up.
“We’ll let things settle in town,” he’d said while he polished his monocle. “As much as they can after a coronation, of course. Then we’ll make our way over.” With a chuckle, Fancy had reclined and turned his attention to the castle. “After a gesture like that, I daresay our new Princess will be the talk of the town for quite some time.”
And he wasn’t wrong. What a gesture it was! A war raged within Rarity’s mind. On one hoof, there was the ambitious socialite— the mare who delighted in gossip and had her eye on a place in the upper echelons of Canterlot’s elite. That mare was positively appalled!
Princess Twilight’s gesture flew in the face of centuries of Equestrian tradition! A princess was not meant to bow to her subjects—they were supposed to bow to her. It was a show of respect for all they did for Equestria and her citizens. Not to mention all the work Princess Celestia had done to protect them during her thousand-year reign.
With all that said, why ever should they bow to their subjects?
But then there was the down home, Ponyville mare who stood in opposition to the socialite—the very mare who went galloping into Everfree Forest upon hearing that her baby sister had gone wandering about in search of Zecora’s hut with only Scootaloo and Apple Bloom, the little filly from the Apple family farm, as her escort. Just the memory had her seeing red and glancing at Sweetie out of the corner of her eye.
If that little filly ever did something so foolish again …
Rarity took a deep sip of her tea and let the herbal scent soothe her thoughts. There was little point in dwelling on the past, even if she would see to it Sweetie couldn’t sit down for a week should she do something like that again.
That aside, that tiny sliver of the country mare her parents had raised found the gesture oddly appealing. Like it brought Princess Twilight down from her ivory tower to walk amongst the common ponies. What’s more, it made her seem more like one of them.
Not to mention, her smile was quite radiant. And her coat, by Celestia’s mane, what a beautiful shade of purple—no, not quite purple. Mulberry. Yes, that was it.
Rarity brought a hoof to her chin. Come to think of it, Princess Twilight would look positively magnificent in the right shade of blue. Something light, perhaps. A perfect contrast to her lovely coat.
Maybe, she mused in a flight of fantasy, Fancy’s nameless contact could put me in touch with somepony involved in choosing her wardrobe for state dinners or, if lucky enough, the Grand Galloping Gala itself! Wouldn’t that be something?
“I don’t understand get it!” Scootaloo huffed, pulling Rarity out of her thoughts. The little pegasus gave an irritated flick of her wing. “Why’d we have to come all this way if she was just gonna stand in the balcony and not say anything important? I thought this was supposed to be some super special event or whatever!”
Fleur de Lis hid a smile behind her tea cup. “The point of the coronation was more the crowning of a new princess, ma petite. Just think, it’s a moment you can tell your foals about someday—especially with the response she received.”
“But it was so dull! The way everypony applauded, you’d have thought she came out and actually said something important!”
To her left, Sweetie Belle chewed on her lip. Indecision was written plain across her face. “I don’t know,” she said slowly. “I mean, we weren’t really promised a big speech or anything.”
Scootaloo rounded on her and spread her hooves wide. “Yeah, but still! She could’ve at least said something! We rode two hours for that! And I’ll bet lots of other ponies took longer trips!”
Rarity made to grab her by the shoulder and hiss a quick scolding, but a laugh from Fancy Pants made her pause. “I suppose it would seem awful silly to a filly your age,” he said with a shake of his head. Sipping at a cup of Earl Neigh, he gazed at the castle in the distance. “But I hold a different opinion of Princess Twilight’s actions, my dear Scootaloo. To me, it seems like she said quite a lot without saying anything at all. Why, one might say she was thanking everypony for being here on her special day.”
Raising a brow, Scootaloo crossed her hooves. “She couldn’t have just said it, though?”
Fancy grinned. “Well, sometimes adults like to do silly things like being symbolic with these sorts of things. You’ll understand when you get older.”
“I doubt it,” Scootaloo muttered. Her ears twitched, she furrowed her brows and stared at Fancy Pants for a moment. “Say, didn’t you tell us you knew Princess Twilight before she got her wings?”
“I did, yes.”
Sweetie sat up straight. “So, you’d know her better than most the ponies who were there today, right? Is she normally like that—more symbolic than talkative?”
Before he could reply, Fleur snorted. “Twilight Sparkle? Not talkative? Oh, heavens no!” Her eyes danced with mirth. “Get her talking about the right thing and she could talk the paint off a wall!”
“Now, now, dearest,” Fancy chided playfully. “Let’s not besmirch our new princess in front of the fillies.”
“I am correct, non?”
“Yes, you are. But she does have an image to maintain. Let’s not make the poor dear’s job at that any more difficult.”
“You spoil all my fun.” Fleur tossed her mane over her shoulder and feigned irritation, but couldn’t hide the smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. She cast a quick glance toward the door, flicking an ear. Her smile faded. “Where in Equestria is that waitress?”
Though her stomach agreed, Rarity held up a hoof. “I would imagine the wait staff and kitchen are both quite busy.” She gestured to the window, waving at the packed dining room. “It is a rather tall task to ask a small place like this to handle such a rush.”
“True enough, I suppose. One of the shortcomings of choosing a smaller place so close to the castle.” Fleur’s ears twitched again. She turned her attention to Fancy once more. “Speaking of, didn’t she say she would be ready soon?”
Fancy pulled a face. His horn wreathed in a navy glow as he levitated a pocket watch out of his jacket pocket. Taking a look at the face, he raised a brow. “It is about that time,” he muttered. “Though I was hoping we could at least eat first.”
“Yes, but you don’t want to keep her waiting, darling. I would imagine her schedule is quite full. Especially having to fill staff.”
“True enough,” Fancy said, sighing as he set his cup down on the saucer. “And she would so love to scold me for tardiness and go into her usual spiel on how I was always such a nice, responsible colt. I swear, the mare thinks she’s my mother.”
Her? Her who? Rarity glanced between her friends and longtime financiers, her eyes narrowed. Friends and generous financiers they were, but Fancy Pants was well known for his eccentricities. And Fleur was all too happy to enable her beloved. What sort of game were they up to this time?
It was high time she got some answers. This coyness surrounding her impending meeting with his “contact” had gone on far too long.
Rarity set her cup down and folded her hooves neatly in her lap. “Pardon me, Fancy Pants,” she began, “but why is it we need to rush if the city is so crowded? And just what staff is this nameless contact of yours trying to fill?”
He returned her gaze with a million-bit smile. “Now, Rarity, my dear—“
“Don’t you ‘now, Rarity, my dear’ me,” she cut him off. “I know what that means coming from you.”
“What?” Fancy tried his best to look innocent. He failed miserably.
“Every time you start with that, you’ve come up with some ‘surprise’ that you blindside me with and send me off to deal with while you smile and hum foals’ tunes to yourself.”
“But you can’t deny I always have your career in mind when I do it.”
“My career, yes. My sanity?” Rarity arched a brow. “Doubtful.”
Again, Fleur snorted. “I’m afraid she’s caught onto your games, darling. I warned you about your little penchant for mischief.”
Fancy Pants pouted—he actually pouted! A stallion of his age, stature, and wealth! Pouting like a foal! What was this world coming to? “It’s not a penchant for mischief,” he retorted. “I’m a forty year old stallion with money and far too much time on his hooves. I’m allowed to be a little eccentric.”
“Of course.” Rolling her eyes, Fleur twisted his ear. “Why don’t you be eccentric while leading our dear Rarity to her meeting before she explodes with sheer curiosity? “ She released her grip, then turned to nod to Rarity. “I’m afraid I can’t spoil the surprise. Knowing that mare, she’s right in line with it.”
Rarity’s ears twitched. “That mare? What—but why would somepony?”
Fleur held up a hoof. “If there’s anything I can tell you about her, it’s that you’re about to meet the one pony in all of Equestria more eccentric and given to games than my beloved. Despite that, she is a good pony. One of the best Equestria has ever known.”
“Truer words have never been spoken!” Fancy chimed in. He rose from his seat, dotting Fleur with a kiss. “You’ll be all right with the fillies, dear?”
“I think we’ll be just fine.” She smiled at Sweetie and Scootaloo. “If we finish lunch before you return, ice cream might be in the cards.” As their ears stood up and eager grins spread across their faces, she added, “If they behave, of course.”
The pair sat upright and folded their hooves on the table, smiling brilliantly at the Prenchmare. Rarity could almost see faux halos hovering above their devious little heads.
As her mother would say, those halos were being held up by Discord’s horns. Rarity rolled her eyes. “Just don’t give Sweetie too much, or she’ll get sick. Again.”
“Rarity!” Sweetie squeaked, her cheeks colored a deep pink. “I do not!”
Scoffing, Rarity stood and walked around the table to stand with Fancy. “My old rug says otherwise. Behave, both of you. I shouldn’t be too long.” She stole a look to her friend. “As far as I know, at least.”
Fancy simply smiled and lit his horn, opening the wrought iron gate that led to the cobblestone path. He gestured for her to follow. “Come along, Rarity,” he said, trotting briskly toward the castle. “I do believe my friend should be ready for you.”
“Fancy…” she said slowly, “is your friend meeting us by the castle gate?”
His smile only broadened. Fancy faced forward and chuckled. “You could say that.”
Something about his tone made the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. Rarity fixed him with a critical stare, but followed along all the same. Fancy Pants’s games were tiresome, that much was true. But he was right.
He always had something in mind that helped her career along.
Rarity willed every cell in her body not to allow herself to faint or topple out of the lovely cushion she was sitting in, lest she crack her chin on the solid oak table that sat before her.
Fancy had lied. His contact, the mysterious mare he and Fleur referred to, hadn’t met them at the castle gate.
No, no. Her guards had. In fact, they waved him in with a smile and sent word ahead to their Captain—the actual Captain of the Royal Guard of Canterlot—so he could fetch Princess Celestia for her one o’clock appointment.
The realization hit her like a piano falling out of a pegasus moving wagon. She was Princess Celestia’s one o’clock appointment. Rarity sucked in a deep breath through her nose. “Fancy,” she hissed.
“Hmm?” He stopped humming long enough to raise a brow in her direction.
“If I make it out of this, I want you to know that I’m going to wring your neck.”
Fancy grinned. “Why, what ever for, my dear?”
Her nostrils flared. “Oh, don’t you even take that faux innocent tone with me, Fancy Pants! You know very well why!” She stole a quick glance toward the door to check for any sign of the Princess. None yet. Rarity turned back to Fancy and leaned in, her eyes flashed dangerously. “If I’d have known you were planning to have me meet with Princess Celestia herself, I would have spent quite a bit more time on my mane and coat! Not to mention I could have picked something to wear!”
“Well, to be honest, that’s exactly why I didn’t tell you.”
Rarity’s ears stood up straight. “Excuse me?”
His grin didn’t fade a fraction. “Let’s just say I’ve had many a conversation with Princess Celestia about this opportunity and how I feel that you’re the best pony to fit the bill. She wants to meet the real Rarity—you’ll find Her Highness can be rather funny with regard to some of her requests.”
“Funny, am I?” a mare’s voice called, tinged with amusement. “Is that so, Fancy?”
Rarity nearly leapt up from her seat to face Princess Celestia. Her jaw dropped. The Princess was quite a bit taller than she appeared from afar. Her coat was a pristine, gorgeous white that seemed to shine with the touch of sunlight, her magnificent rainbow mane flowed as she strode toward them.
Rarity worked her mouth wordlessly, fighting against her treacherous throat tightening despite her want to make a good impression.
“Your Highness,” Fancy greeted smoothly. He stood and bowed low. “Thank you so much for seeing us today. The coronation was lovely, of course. I hope Princess Twilight wasn’t too flustered.”
Princess Celestia smiled. “Remind me to tell you why we were late once we finish. It’s quite the tale.” Her brilliant purple eyes narrowed. “But don’t change the subject, my sweet, young colt. I still remember a certain student who was caught lobbing water balloons at little Fleur de Lis when he was younger …”
“I’m sure I’ve no idea who that colt might have been. He sounds like quite the rogue. I hope you disciplined him properly.”
“Naturally. Funnily enough, you both share similarities.” She looked up at the ceiling as if in deep thought. “In fact, I believe his name was—”
“Might I introduce my associate,” Fancy cut in before she could finish. He gestured to Rarity. “This is the mare I’ve been telling you about, Your Highness. Rarity of Ponyville.”
Rarity barely managed to swallow down a squeak as those ancient eyes turned upon her. She gave a shaky bow. “H-Hello, Your Highness,” she greeted, cursing her tongue. What a first impression. Stammering before the Princess of the Sun. Truly, her place was at the top of Canterlot’s elite.
“The pleasure is mine, Rarity,” Princess Celestia replied with a nod as she took her seat across from them. “I’ve heard so much about you from Fancy Pants that I almost feel as though I’ve known you for years. Please, sit. We have much to discuss.”
They sat immediately. Rarity tried not to fidget in her cushion. Why hadn’t Fancy given her a warning?
“As much as I’d love to enjoy the usual banter, Fancy,” the Princess began, “I’m afraid I must ask that we get straight to business. Thanks in no small part to our newest princess’s … organizational skills—” her lips twitched “—I find myself a bit pressed for time in staffing certain positions.”
Fancy chuckled. “Bottom of the to-do list?”
“Three of them,” Princess Celestia corrected, rolling her eyes. “She kept adding things ahead of it.”
“Ah. Averse to making staffing choices, then. Or was she just busy with her other projects?”
“A little of column A, a little of column B. So it falls on me to fill the position for her. And if she doesn’t like it, she will, as the foals say, simply half to deal with it.” Fluffing her feathers, Princess Celestia turned to Rarity. “With that said, tell me a bit about yourself.”
This time, Rarity fidgeted. She licked her lips and pressed a hoof into the cushion. “Well, I was born and raised in Ponyville. My parents were involved in commercial farming, but my passion has always been more focused on dressmaking and fashion.”
“I see. What is it you like to do with your talents?”
“I love making custom dresses for formal events. That’s actually the main focus of my boutique,” she replied. “But I also enjoy some of the smaller community events. When I was a filly, I was always the first volunteer to work on costume designs.” A smile crept across her face. “There was just something about reading through old texts on culture and history to find accurate designs that captivated me. I wanted to bring the play to life so everypony could feel like they’d stepped into whatever time the characters lived in. The Hearth’s Warming Pageant was a favorite of mine.”
Chuckling, Princess Celestia nodded. “It’s one of mine as well. A lovely play, if I do say so myself.” She thought for a moment, almost as though she were making a few mental notes to a file. Her eyes flashed, attentive once more. She arched a brow at Rarity and tapped a hoof against the table. “I’m curious, though. Fancy tells me that you’ve stayed in Ponyville despite offers to fund a move to Canterlot. Would you mind my asking why?”
Why? Well, that question had come up before, but there was always an easy excuse. It wasn’t the right time, or she needed to get her name out there a bit more before she could commit. Not to mention, Sweetie Belle …
Rarity flicked the curls of her tail. “Each offer has been quite generous,” she said diplomatically, “but I find myself a bit attached to my home. And wary of leaving when I’ve only just gotten started.” Pausing a moment in thought, she added, “I suppose I’m also afraid that I’ll be unable to take the time to make custom ensembles if I go into a bigger market.”
Princess Celestia’s brows raised. “Oh? Pray tell, why is that a factor?”
“The bigger market or making custom dresses?”
“The latter.” Princess Celestia winked. “I think we can both agree that I’m well old enough to understand how different industries work.”
A blush arose in Rarity’s cheeks. “Right.” She coughed into her hoof, flicking an ear. “There’s just a certain feeling that comes with a project when a pony asks for a design and lets me play with things a little. I can take the time to measure the fabrics and find the right color combinations so I can create something meant just for them, something that will bring out a little of their personality others might not get to see.”
“Rarity made Fleur’s dress for the last Grand Galloping Gala,” Fancy Pants put in.
Rarity thought a moment, recalling the details of Fleur’s dress. It had been a surprisingly simple piece, with pink and white to match the Prenchmare’s mane and a long, flowing hemline adorned with lace trim. A burst of inspiration had driven her to make one slight addition to the ensemble.
Princess Celestia’s eyes lit up. “Ah, that was quite a beautiful dress. It went well with her mane, and I did love the way her cutie mark was used as a pattern in the lace.” She leaned forward, propping her chin on a hoof. “I wonder, was that something she asked for, or was that one of your additions?”
“One of mine,” Rarity replied. “I thought it might be a nice touch, and I felt it was subtle enough not to distract from the rest of the ensemble.”
“That was also the piece that convinced us to start backing Rarity,” Fancy said with a hint of pride in his tone. He casually removed his monocle and polished it with a cloth he procured from his jacket pocket. “Fleur fell in love with that dress the moment she saw it, and I had to appreciate the little personal touch you put in. I believe our backing has yielded profitable results for both of us.”
“And yet you bring her to me, my sweet colt.” Princess Celestia hummed a note, sitting up straight again. “You’re not trying to find some way to get dear Twilight’s ear, are you?”
Fancy snorted. “Your Highness, please. You know full well I’ve been friends with her parents for years. I hardly need to insert Rarity into her staff to gain influence.”
Laughing, Princess Celestia shook her head. “I suppose you’re right. Cheeky colt.”
Rarity looked between the two, furrowing her brows. A hint of unease crept into her chest. What had Fancy Pants just signed her up for? “Uh …”
“Banter aside,” Princess Celestia continued as if she hadn’t heard, “that is, perhaps, the most pertinent question I could ask. Though, directed at the wrong pony.” As she fixed her gaze upon Rarity once more, she almost seemed to loom over the table. Like a protective mother guarding her foals. Yet her expression never changed. “Tell me what we would talk about if I were to ask you to design a dress.”
Rarity blinked. “Excuse me? I don’t—what does that—how does that even answer your question?”
“I’ll explain in a moment. Now, I would like a dress. I’ve come into your boutique and have asked for an ensemble to wear to my niece’s birthday party in the Crystal Empire. What would we talk about?”
Rarity sat in silence for several seconds. She tried to consider the possibilities. A chance for a one-on-one meeting with Princess Celestia herself was an opportunity for which most ponies would happily trade a hoof. Why, she’d wager unicorns might even trade their magic! The ear of a Royal, the chance to influence policy and how bits were spent would be invaluable.
Invaluable to somepony looking out for herself.
If Princess Celestia should ever come into her boutique in search of a dress, she would come as a princess, of course, but, more importantly, a customer.
“I suppose I would begin by asking what sort of style of dress you’d prefer,” Rarity began. “I believe I read somewhere that Princess Cadence originally came from Istallia, so perhaps I could look through a few catalogues on Istallian fashion. Or Roaman, if you wish to bring a more classical feel to it.” Sucking in her lips, she looked Princess Celestia up and down. “On second thought, not classical. Classical Roaman would likely have you in either white or red for status—the former is fine, but it wouldn’t bring out your mane at all, and the latter, if you’ll forgive me, is right out unless I go with one of the darker tones to accentuate your coat.”
Princess Celestia’s smile grew to show her teeth. “That is something,” she purred. “Not influence? No attempt to capitalize on a few moments of uninterrupted conversation for personal gain, but business? You’re quite the interesting mare, Rarity.” Her eyes flitted to Fancy Pants. “And it seems your reputation is deserved.”
On cue, Fancy allowed a self-satisfied smile. “I told you,” he said. “She’d be perfect for it.”
“Indeed. I believe I’ve heard all I need.” With a sigh of relief, the Princess closed her eyes. After a moment, she opened her eyes, fixing Rarity with her full attention “I’m sure by now you’ve realized that this isn’t for the fashion industry,” she said.
Rarity gave a tight smile. “It did cross my mind.” Forcing a laugh that sounded more like a nervous nicker, she rubbed a hoof against her wrist. The urge to grab Fancy by the shoulder and haul him out of the room was nearly insurmountable. But she managed. “Though,” she began, “I’m not entirely sure what this meeting is for if not fashion.”
“Simple, really.” Again, the Princess leaned forward, steepling her hooves. “I require somepony who knows how to organize and maintain schedules, as well as dressing somepony of high status for important events. However, given the … individual she’ll be working with, this pony needs to have a firm hoof and willingness to give her charge a bit of a kick should she lose track of time because of her studies—not a word, Fancy. Not one.”
Wisely, Fancy Pants stayed silent. But that didn’t stop him from grinning and shaking his head.
Rarity bit her lip. “Forgive me, Your Highness, but this sounds like it’s one part personal assistant, one part foalsitting.”
To her surprise, Princess Celestia snorted. “Funny you should say it like that,” she said, grinning shamelessly. Her pristine white feathers fluffed like Scootaloo on Hearth’s Warming Day. Like she was the one unwrapping a present.
Why did Rarity get the feeling she was wearing a red bow atop her head?
“What do you know about the title of mare-in-waiting?”
Oh. That was why.
She fidgeted. “Er, well, it’s not really fashion industry …”
Princess Celestia nodded. “Indeed it isn’t. However, that isn’t to say you won’t have time to make dresses. I daresay you could make quite the name for yourself putting together ensembles for high profile events, and then move sideways into the industry if you chose to leave. Of course, I would offer my recommendation should you make that choice.”
Now there was something. A recommendation from Princess Celestia?
Put the crown of Queen of Fashion atop Rarity’s head and let her just relax in her opulent throne looking out over an empire clothed in the finest silks and colors. The world might as well be hers.
But only if she could do the actual job well.
Still, it was an opportunity. An opportunity that could mean something more. The world could well and truly be her oyster.
“It’s not what I expected when I came to Canterlot,” Rarity said, “but mother always said opportunity presents itself in unexpected ways. I would be happy to serve as your mare-in-waiting, Your Highness.”
“While I’m happy to hear you say so, dear, I’m afraid you won’t be my mare-in-waiting.”
Rarity’s thoughts came to a screeching halt. “I won’t?”
Those ancient purple eyes shone with mirth. “I’m afraid not. Though I daresay we’ll see plenty of one another—should you still wish to accept, of course.”
“I—pardon me, I must have misunderstood.”
“Oh, no, that’s my fault. I didn’t explain clearly. Only referred to in passing. I do that when I’m setting up to teach a lesson to one of my students, especially those nearest and dearest to my heart.”
Rarity blinked. Her mind slowly worked back through the conversation, piecing together the puzzle. It clicked. Her jaw dropped. “Oh. Oh!”
“Oh, indeed,” Princess Celestia said with a nod. “Since she’s neglected to do it herself, it falls upon me to pull double duty: appoint her a mare-in-waiting and remind her just why she shouldn’t dally on the homework I give her.
“Assuming you choose to accept my offer, you will serve as Princess Twilight Sparkle’s mare-in-waiting. I wish you nothing the best of luck, young mare. You may very well need it.”