"According to the reports, most of Nightmare Moon's followers surrendered in the general amnesty," General Firefly said, following Princess Celestia out of the throne room. Oak Warden walked at her other flank in silence.
Nopony in the castle wore the black armor of Luna's guard anymore. Even the ponies who had once been a part of it sported gold plate now.
Somepony had already ordered every tapestry and portrait of Luna destroyed, and Celestia had only narrowly managed to move some of them into storage. She'd had to watch as they burned the rest, like her sister was being consumed on a funeral pyre.
They couldn't erase everything. There were signs everywhere. Moons carved into stone at decorative arches. Stained glass showing Celestia standing with an equal against Equestria's foes.
Celestia wasn't sure how long she'd be able to bear remaining in the castle.
"Most isn't all," Celestia noted.
She'd heard the name Nightmare Moon so many times now that she could almost hear it without flinching. No one had used the name Luna since the Eclipse.
"There are always going to be holdouts," the General replied, shrugging. "We've identified several compounds where they've gathered."
"When will your troops move in on them?" Celestia asked.
"We haven't drawn up a plan of attack yet. There are foals on the inside."
Celestia sighed. "Of course there are."
"I'm sorry, Princess."
"I'll prepare messages to be sent to them. Perhaps if they know they can't hide they'll be ready to rejoin Equestria."
"They're traitors. They don't want to return to the fold unless Nightmare Moon is on the throne."
"She isn't coming back," Celestia said. Her voice sounded more firm and certain than she felt. "The sooner they realize that, the better."
"I hope you're right, your highness," the General replied. "I've got a few ideas on things to try. Maybe a show of force, just some kind of demonstration like a close fly-by..."
"If there's nothing else, it's getting close to sunset," Celestia said, stopping at a door out to the gardens. Servants, already growing familiar with the ritual, stood at attention with a tea tray.
"Of course, your highness." The old soldier bowed and left.
Celestia took the tray in her own magic, waving the servants off.
"I'd like to be alone, Warden," she said.
"Yes, Ma'am. I'll guard your chambers until you return."
He saluted and left.
When his steps faded into silence, Celestia opened the door, walking out to the garden. There were no guards posted along the wall anymore. Even if she'd wanted them here, there were places they needed to be. Ponies needed a stabilizing presence in their lives.
A ruler for the herd to follow.
The Guard, in their gold armor, needed to be out there. Ponies needed to be reminded there was somepony leading the herd.
They needed to believe the sun would rise every morning.
The sun hung on the horizon, bathing the world in crimson and amber. She didn't touch it yet. Moving the sun was her duty, one she was happy to do. It was everything else that she dreaded.
She put the tea set down. The garden table was tiny for her frame, but still too large without anypony else to share it with.
Celestia set out two teacups.
A touch of her magic set the water in the kettle to a near-boil.
She was just delaying the inevitable.
Most of the water made its way to the teapot. A few tablespoons found their way into the cups, swirled around, warming them before being discarded.
It was the proper thing. Pour hot tea into cold cups and the tea wouldn't be at that perfect temperature. It was a bit of theatre, unnecessary effort to be perfect and prim and proper. Eighty degrees wouldn't do, only eighty-five.
She pushed the sun below the horizon. The sky turned shades of blue, then black, the stars appearing one by one.
She poured one steaming cup, and set it across from her at the empty seat.
It would be gone in the morning, anonymous servants taking it away when she wasn't looking. They'd never admit to moving it themselves.
All part of the ritual now.
She hesitated with the tea pot hovering over her cup.
She poured cold milk into hers. Added sugar. Before the tea, even. If Star Swirl had been there he would have slapped the cup right out of her hooves.
He wasn't there though.
She could do anything she wanted, as long as she was alone.
If she drank her tea like this in front of the court they'd whisper about it for a day and be doing it themselves in a week.
Luna had been right about one thing. There was only room for one pony at the top.
She sat in the strange light of the new, shadow-marked moon above and sipped her lukewarm tea.
"This is awful," she admitted.
She drank it anyway, because nopony could tell her not to.