//------------------------------// // Chapter 3 - The Queen and her Prime Minister (March 7th, 1936 - March 9th, 1936) // Story: A Queen's Vows // by garatheauthor //------------------------------// March 7th, 1936 – 3:45PM Prime Minister Fancy Pants 10 Regalia Street A little over twenty years ago, the world was embroiled in war, as two grand alliances clashed for global supremacy. At the conflict’s start, Equestria was given a choice. Either it could remain neutral, and stay at peace, or intervene and be rewarded generously in the peace talks A faction soon arose in parliament, known simply as the war alliance. They were a coalition, from every party, which preached that any conflict would end swiftly with Equestrian aid, and that there was much to be gained from a quick victory. Little by little, parliament was won over by their promises of grandeur and treasure, until four months into the war, Equestrian troops marched to the front. And I am ashamed to admit, that I was amongst those who eventually cast their vote to send them. Four years. The war lasted four bloody years. Four years that saw the collapse of the old-world systems, and ushered in a wave of social change and revolution, which rocked the empires of old and nearly cost Equestria hers. Four years where the promised bounties never came, but rather saw Equestria drained of her wealth, honour, dignity, and of her sons and daughters. The leader of the soon despised war faction was Theodora Harshwhinny, then Secretary of Foreign Affairs. She was politically crucified halfway through the struggle, stripped of her position, and relegated to a slow death within the backbenches of parliament. However, within recent years, her reputation had been remedied by her close friendship with Queen Celestia. This allowed her to pressure me into appointing her to my cabinet. Oh sure, Minister of Culture was small beans, but it still gave her voice weight. It was also becoming apparent that it was going to be a position I’d greatly regret giving her. “She broke the Prince’s nose,” I reminded Harshwhinny over the phone. “Have you forgotten about that little incident?” “Oh, I haven’t forgotten. I just know he probably deserved it.” “That may be so, but there were members of the public there. The press was there.” “And yet no story was published.” “Only because the Queen intervened.” “Then I don’t see what you’re complaining about. For all the people know, Prince Blueblood had an accident.” “What I’m complaining about, is that we can’t allow this woman to marry our sovereign. How would the people react if this undeserving harlot became Princess? There’d be riots.” I sighed loudly, shaking my head. “Now, I love the Queen as much as any Equestrian, but we need to stop her from making the biggest mistake of her life. Can I count on you to vote against her marriage?” Harshwhinny snorted. “I think we may have more pressing matters to worry about.” “I don’t see what’s more important than the stability of our realm.” “Double digit unemployment, a navy that’s a decade obsolete, and a colonial revolt in Eastern Marewari, to name a few.” “Those can be remedied, the complete and utter collapse of society cannot.” “Don’t you think you’re blowing this a little out of proportion. Who cares who the Queen ends up fucking? All this does is make you look obsessive and petty.” I covered the phone’s receiver. “Fucking bitch.” For some stupid reason, the party listened to this backroom schemer. Everyday, more and more MPs stepped away from the marriage issue and joined her camp. It was like the war all over again, with Harshwhinny leading us towards disaster. I would’ve advanced on this issue alone, if I could. However, she had whittled down my support, to such a point, that the balance of political power had become unfavourable, forcing me to seek her support. This was a situation I despised being in. Harshwhinny was still the same stubborn bulldog, who was more interested in her own political survival, than the actual good of our nation. I’d have more luck convincing a brick wall to collapse. “Look Fancy, I appreciate you for taking the time to call, but I have some important things to deal with. Maybe we can pick this up later?” I uncovered the phone’s receiver. “Of course. It’s always a pleasure chatting with you.” She laughed. “No, it isn’t.” I nodded in agreement. “No, it’s not.” The line clicked, and I was tempted to whip my phone against the wall. Instead, I gently placed it back in its cradle. I then reached for my bottle of gin. It wasn’t quite 5 o’clock, but I suddenly felt like starting early tonight. I poured myself a generous glass, and took a healthy sip. The liquor burned, but dulled the worst of my anger. Clearly, Theodora wasn’t going to be won over by appealing to her common sense. So maybe, I could offer her something a bit more…material. After all, politics was built upon a rocky foundation of greasing palms and scratching backs. Now, what would be a big enough table scrap to feed a bitch like Harshwhinny? March 9th, 1936 – 9:30AM Queen Twilight Sparkle Canterlot Castle – Queen’s Private Study Canterlot Castle had never quite felt like home. Rather it masqueraded as one. It had all of the things a home should, warmth, comfort, family. Yet, I had few positive memories from my time here. Rather this place suffered from a malice of stress and discomfort, with memories of my mother’s anxiety, and the constant parade of invasive diplomats, being far more prevalent. Maybe, I was biased. After all, it had been close to fifteen years since I last lived within these oppressive walls. However, I would soon be forced to ignore these feeling, wouldn’t I? After all, a Queen didn’t live in a Canterlot townhouse. No matter how fine it was, or how much it actual felt like home. I shook my head, pushing away such thoughts. That was a problem for another day, and I needed my attention to be focused on why I was here. Today, I was just here for a simple meeting. Well, maybe not simple. There was no such thing as a simple when you were the Queen. A Queen who had to dress in a rich satin gown that felt uncomfortable. A Queen who bore a hefty crown upon her head. A Queen who was about to host her Prime Minister, a diplomat, who invaded her childhood home and brought nothing but discomfort with him. Oh, the more things change… Today had to go absolutely perfect. It was the only hope I had of battering down Fancy's opposition to my marriage. I felt my stomach churn and pulse quicken as anxiety gripped me. It was a terrible sensation. Why was I so anxious? There was absolutely no pressure whatsoever. After all, what did I have to lose if things went poorly? I just wouldn’t be allowed to marry the woman I love. My eye twitched and I soon laughed hysterically to the still empty room, probably sounding more than a little looney. However, this laughter acted as a release valve, blowing off some much-needed steam. Behind me, someone noisily cleared their throat, and I instantly realize that maybe the room wasn’t quite as empty as I assumed. I turned to see Raven standing at the door. “Your Majesty,” she said, failing to betray what she’d heard. “How much did you hear?” “The last fifteen seconds of crazed laughter.” I buried my face into my hands. “Oh my god!” Her footsteps echoed as she approached, and I felt her hand reassuringly upon my shoulder. I looked up, and for a moment, I was ten years old again. Back when I was a young princess distressed with the events of the day, and she was a woman of half her age, trying her best to take care of me. She was like a mother, when my own was busy mothering the nation. I couldn’t help but smile. Maybe this castle actually did have a good memory or two squirrelled away somewhere. “Sorry, sorry, I’m just…” I sighed. “…a little bit nervous.” Raven nodded. “Your mother was exactly the same whenever she met a Prime Minister.” “She was?” I hated how skeptical I sounded. “Absolutely petrified. Oh sure, not all of them were that bad. She used to have a lot of fun with Flurried Nimbus, but Fancy, oh Fancy was a much tougher act.” I felt my anxiety flare back up. “Oh?” My speech felt laboured, as if that single syllable had absorbed every ounce of moisture in my mouth. Raven held up a hand. “But! But, you are a very different person, Your Majesty. Where your mother was charismatic, you’re intelligent. Where she was warm, you’re calculating. Where she was old and experienced, you’re youthful and passionate. I have no doubt that if you act like yourself, you’ll run circles around Mr. Pants.” I smiled bleakly. “Thanks, Raven.” “You’re very welcome.” “Now, how long do I have until my appointment?” She looked rather sheepish. “Welllll….” I swallowed hard. “Oh no.” “He arrived five minutes ago. I can buy you a little time, if you need it.” I shook my head. “No, no, it’s not going to get any easier if I wait. Bring him in.” Raven nodded and slipped out of the room. Once she was gone, I took position at the centre of my study. I then tried to stand as regally as possible, trying my best to channel the virtues of my office and compose them into a stiff and resolute expression. I actually felt rather respectable, right now. Actually, no I didn’t. I felt more like a child pretending to be respectable. My emotions faltered and expression slipped, just in time for the door to open once more. At which point, all I could do was flash a nervous grin, which felt rather childish and inexperienced. Raven entered first, and gestured for my guest to follow. A moment later, Fancy Pants waltzed into the room. The Prime Minister looked his part, dressed in a finely tailored suit, with a top hat tucked under his left arm. He looks tired and old, like a wise grandfather who was the elder of his clan. Only, his clan happened to be my entire kingdom. He walked towards me, stopping once he was ten paces away. He then bowed, his tired form creaking as he dipped low. Though he didn’t so much as grunt in protest. “Your Majesty,” he said. “Mr. Pants, I’m so thankful that you could make it.” He slowly stood back up, fixing me with a coy smile. It was a smile that screamed, ‘of course I’m here, you daft girl! You’re the Queen, what else would I do when called?’ Instead of saying that, he said, “It’s always a pleasure to be summoned for a royal audience. I’ve missed my lunches with your mother.” “I understand that you two were close?” “As close as a servant and mistress could be. I took great pride in serving her when I could.” “She spoke fondly of you.” “I’m touched.” “Can I get you anything to drink?” “Some tea would be nice.” I nodded to Raven, and the woman nodded back before exiting the room. I then took a seat, gesturing to the one across from me. Fancy looked to it and slowly sat down, resting his impossibly tired form upon my mother’s ancient upholstery with great familiarity. He had very likely been in this room more times than I had. “So, how can I be of service, Your Majesty?” Fancy Pants asked. I offered him a light-hearted smile. “You can call me, Twilight, Mr. Pants.” He chuckled. “Only if you call me Fancy.” “Deal.” “Now what can I do for you, Twilight?” “I was hoping that we could discuss your opposition to Sunset Shimmer.” Fancy frowned. “I see.” “I was wondering if there was someway I could reassure you that she isn’t dangerous to the stability of our nation.” “I’m sure that she, herself, is of no danger, but…” “But?” “But, it’s what she is, that is dangerous.” “I’m not sure I understand.” “Twilight, the monarchy is the very backbone of our society. It’s built upon an ancient foundation of aristocratic rule, that is older than either of us. By the reign of individuals who are born above the common class, and who can remain neutral in the face of their political interests.” I frowned, shaking my head. “I’m no better than anyone else.” “And that’s where the problem lies. Your relationship with Sunset Shimmer has poisoned your perception of things. It’s moved you from neutral arbitrator to a politicized force.” I couldn’t help but laugh. “Politicized me?” “Your comments at the mines in New Fillyland, at the dockyards in Vanhoover, in the slums of Trotingham.” I was speechless. Did Fancy honestly think that my opinions were born out of my relationship with Sunset Shimmer? He couldn’t be further from the truth. It was our shared philosophies which brought us together, and kept us so close when faced with our differences. “I’ve always held the belief that our society should help those most in need,” I said. He waved his hand dismissively. “And that’s a very politicized opinion.” “Helping people is politicized!?” He snorted. “No, but the instruments to get that help are. The social welfare it will require, the regulations upon business, the taxation levels necessary. All of these subjects are politicized. Thus, you should provide neutral arbitration upon them, and not devalue your office by forcing your way into a debate which only parliament should have jurisdiction.” I felt my pulse quicken, as my skull began to pound. “I thought monarchs should strive for what they believed in.” Fancy shook his head. “Maybe two hundred years ago, but your current duties are to oversee parliament and intervene if they fall to tyranny.” It was impressive how he skirted around the real power I wielded. The ability to veto laws I found unjust, the ability to replace minister who abused their office, the ability to call elections when the winds of change blew. It wasn’t my beliefs that frightened Fancy, but rather my blatant willingness to follow through with them. “So, your problem with Sunset, is that you believe she’s manipulating me?” I asked. “Well, that’s part of it.” “What’s the rest?” “Like I just mentioned, the monarchy is a bestowed upon members of the aristocracy. How do you think people will react when their Queen marries a commoner? And like I’ve mentioned before, a commoner whose biggest contributions to society are being a jazz musician, an anarchist, and someone of… questionable purity.” I desperately wished Raven would return with our tea. Just so I’d have something to throw in Fancy’s face.” “I’d like to believe that such a choice would give my office a bit of humanity.” “Your Majesty does not need to appear humane, at the cost of your divine right to rule.” I sighed “So where do we proceed from here?” “Well, Twilight, there are three courses of action we can take.” “What are they?” He counted off a single finger. “First, you may attempt to pursue your marriage as monarch. Though for your union to be made legal, it must be affirmed by Parliament as per the Royal Marriage Act.” “And what power does that Act give you?” “No marriage made by the monarch, or their immediate successors, is legal without the consent of parliament.” “That seems rather intrusive.” “It’s a necessary evil. Especially after your ancestors had a habit of subjecting our nation to war over their diplomatic marriages.” “And I’m guessing the chances of my marriage being ratified are slim?” “Like I said, the Act gives us the power to veto any marriage which we believe has the potential to devastate our nation.” I sighed. “Are you always so prone to hyperbole?” He ignored me and counted off another finger. "Second, you can forgo your marriage and-” I cut him off. “Not happening.” He nodded and held up a third finger. “Lastly, you may pursue your marriage as a private citizen. In which case, Parliament will have absolutely no say in your decision. You’d be free to marry whoever you like.” “What’s the catch?” “Well, in order to be a private citizen, you must surrender your titles.” His words landed like a punch to the gut,  knocking the wind out of me. I already knew of these options, from my own research, but hearing them spoken aloud gave them a very real substance. To surrender my throne, would mean cutting myself off from the instruments of governance. If I were to do that, I’d never get a chance to rule my nation, nor would I ever contribute to its betterment. My plans, for a bright Equestrian future, would be at the mercy of someone else. I swallowed hard, staring blankly ahead. Fancy might’ve only been a couple metre away, but to me, it felt much further, as I retreated deep into myself. The only thing I managed to respond with, was a feeble... “Oh.”