//------------------------------// // Chapter 9: Cast in Stone // Story: To Serve In Hell // by CoffeeMinion //------------------------------// Sassy drummed her hooves against the carriage’s floorboards for a few moments as she watched Rarity’s cloaked figure disappear down one of the stinking side streets of Canterlot. Both her breathing and the nervous tapping continued as she contemplated the possibilities at hoof. The driver bent his shaggy head down to the window. “Everything all right, Overseer Saddles?” “Not at all,” she said slowly. “A change of plans may be in order.” “Ma’am?” “Take us to the Governor’s mansion,” she ordered. “You will drop me off, then continue as planned to the hotel. I will give you papers that will let you register on our behalf, and you will leave the Seneschal’s luggage in her room.” “Yes ma’am,” he said, though she could see hesitation as he glanced in the direction Rarity had gone. Sassy growled. “Perhaps you’d care to help with our investigation? It seems you are a natural at sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong.” He blanched and turned to avoid eye contact. “Sorry, ma’am!” The cart jerked and started moving again. Sassy took out a small wooden box with ink, quills, and parchment, and began writing. It was simple work, yet she did it slowly, trying to compensate for the uneven rocking of the cart. It gave her time to reflect upon the dull ache in her head, the worse pain in her jaw, and the oddly matted fur around the front of her neck. She couldn’t account for how she’d gained any of them, except that they’d turned up in the course of her dealings with Rarity. “How could I have missed such naked treason happening right under my muzzle,” Sassy muttered. “And how could the Mistress condemn it as such, yet condone it in the case of her Seneschal…” Sassy sealed the finished letter with her magic and held it out before her, staring at its smooth surface as though it could help her reclaim some measure of control over the situation. At length, she shook her head and set the letter on the seat beside her. The carriage sped her through the worst sections of Canterlot and over one of the long, narrow bridges that connected the Lower City with the Upper City. There, she found the streets were filled with marginally less refuse of inanimate or equine nature, and most buildings looked as though they’d at least had the filth scrubbed off them since the Longest Night began. The smell was also notably less pungent, though Sassy could still detect hints of it when she breathed deeply. Simple shops faded into grander storefronts as they drew farther north and into the commerce district. Sassy felt her lips quirk upward into a smile as she passed a long row of boutiques with windows that displayed fine-cut suits, or elegant dresses of taffeta and lace. A scowl soon followed though, as she saw several shops beyond that were unlit and empty. At last the shops entirely gave way to a series of dried-out and vacant public parks, as the carriage set off down the cobbled path toward the former grounds of Canterlot Castle. Sassy looked out a window as they approached the Governor’s mansion—an oblong, skeletal remnant of the castle itself. She found her eyes drawn by a blown scrap of paper, which drifted on the wind toward the withered remains of a once-manicured hedge maze. She gazed beyond it, spotting what had formerly been a garden full of elegant topiary and ancient statues—now either burned or smashed to rubble that still lay carelessly where it had fallen. The carriage drew to a halt outside the sole surviving wing of the castle itself. Sassy studied the tall building of dark-veined marble as she waited for the driver to come around and open the door for her. It was the only part of the castle that the former Princess Celestia hadn’t updated from its original styling after the exiled Princess Luna, and thus was all that the ascendent Nightmare Moon had deigned to leave standing after her return. Its polished beauty offered a stark contrast to the blasted and uneven husk around it, which had yet to be fully cleared away even years after its destruction. The driver let her out and placed her bag by her side. She gave him the letter, then watched a pair of white-coated guards descend from the mansion’s mismatched stone entrance, which had been constructed into and from the surviving pieces of the structure’s curtain wall. “Do you have an appointment with the Governor, ma’am?” one asked. “I don’t have an appointment,” she said, before drawing herself up to her full, considerable height. “But the Governor will see me.” As recognition dawned in their eyes, the guards turned towards each other and exchanged a series of nervous whispers. Eventually the one who had spoken approached and took her bag in a hoof. “Of course, Overseer. Please follow me.” They entered into a reconstructed entry hall, which was roughly three-quarters plain stone and salvaged wood, before giving way to what was left of the marbled, ornate original. Torches blazed in high wall sconces, casting an angry, reddish glow throughout. Sassy followed the guard up a grand staircase with silver-chased bannisters at the far side of the hall. At the top they turned down a long hallway, which was hung with colorful tapestries, before eventually reaching a large double-door of dark wood and inlaid silver filigree, which was flanked by two more guards. Sassy read the hesitation on their faces and pre-empted them before they could speak: “Is the Governor engaged in yet another dalliance?” “No, Overseer Saddles,” they answered. “Good.” She lit her horn and opened the door, revealing a stately office filled with comfortable-looking furniture that seemed to glow in the light of a fireplace set in the wall to her left. Wooden display cases on either side of the fireplace showed a collection of small glass and porcelain curios. At the far end was a massive, yet finely crafted desk. Its sole occupant, a finely-dressed, white-coated unicorn, had clearly been hunching over a letter, but now rose, turning an irritated scowl on the opened door. Once again straightening her posture, Sassy strode boldly into the office. “Governor Blueblood, we must speak immediately.” The erstwhile prince’s features softened as he saw who had interrupted his work. “Indeed, Overseer Saddles? This must be urgent; the first I’d heard of your coming was as your carriage made its way through the checkpoints up the mountain.” She closed the door and approached his desk. “Governor, I hate to prevail upon your kindness, but my circumstances have become… complex of late. It would only be prudent to seek the protection of someone with close ties to the Mistress.” Blueblood pursed his lips and nodded slowly. Then he lit his horn, folding the letter he’d been writing, and levitating it over to a nearby shelf. “Well then my dear, I shall have to finish corresponding with my lady-in-waiting after I learn more about this juicy bit of gossip.” Sassy tightened her jaw, which made it ache even more. “I have no time for inanities. The Mistress has sent me to investigate certain illicit activities, but I’m learning that their roots run deeper than I realized. Some rather unforeseen entanglements have arisen as a result.” Following a slight nod of his head, Blueblood sat back down at his desk and steepled his forehooves. “Well, I am always interested to hear more about unforeseen entanglements with desperate mares.” She flared her nostrils. “Governor, I serve at the right hoof of the Mistress herself. It is your duty to comply.” “Oh, duty this and duty that.” He sighed loudly. “I suppose if it can’t be avoided…” He bent to the side, rummaged around a bit out of view, then levitated up a bottle of dark amber liquid. Two short glasses and a small bucket of ice soon followed. “Can I interest you in a nightcap?” “You know I prefer not to drink.” Sassy frowned as Blueblood unstoppered the bottle and filled both glasses regardless. A moment later, she sat down in an overstuffed chair before the desk. She paused, studying a sizable piece of decor set upon it: a large stone head of beastly aspect, with mismatched horns and a look of mirth on its chipped face. Blueblood gestured toward the head. “Do you like it? I picked it up from the remains outside.” “You are a bold pony indeed,” Sassy said under her breath. And yet, the thing was almost hypnotic in its ugliness, and she found herself continuing to focus on it. “Is it supposed to be equine, or draconic?” “I believe it’s a bit of both,” Blueblood said with a wink. “Oh, I’ve found myself quite fascinated with it, too… so much so that I couldn’t resist doing some digging. Turns out this is likely a depiction of one ‘Discord, Lord of Chaos,’ who was apparently a big deal back around the time my new auntie got herself exiled.” Sassy shook her head, and finally managed to refocus on Blueblood rather than the stone head. “Governor, let me be frank: I have come to fear that Seneschal Rarity is actively involved with the Resistance against our Mistress, and that she may now pose a threat not only to the kingdom, but to my own life as well.” Blueblood chuckled. “My, how scandalous.” “Scandalous?! No, this is serious! The Mistress seems much less concerned about the Seneschal’s connections than I am, but—” “No,” Blueblood interrupted, clearly suppressing a grin. “ I mean yes, it’s scandalous enough to learn that the Mistress’ Seneschal may be a party to treason. But the real scandal may be that the Mistress’ Overseer—a mare who routinely works with spies and other operatives—has no ability whatsoever to conceal her own failings from others, like a normal pony would.” “Governor, I have come here to conduct an investigation, not to waste time stroking your ego.” A smile worked its way across his face. “Oh, sometimes the most obvious jokes are the hardest to resist. But all right, let us entertain the notion that Seneschal Rarity is half as dangerous as you claim. Of course you’re invited to take up residence in our guest apartments, and we shall post guards for you at all hours of night and… night.” He chuckled. “Thank you, Governor. And while I should prefer to say as little as I can for now, rest assured, I’ll be speaking more about this matter with both you and the ponies in your employ in the nights ahead.” He nodded, then gave her a coy tilt of his head. “But of course, you’ve asked much of me and offered little in return. Perhaps a bit of tit-for-tat might be in order?” “What do you mean?” Blueblood set his glass down. “You’re quite the lovely mare, Miss Saddles. I must confess a fondness for fine ladies of the unicorn persuasion, especially those who are a bit tall, and a bit slim…” Sassy rose from her chair in as swift a manner as her indignance would allow. “Governor Blueblood, I do not have an interest of that nature in you, nor any stallion.” “Ah, so you’re into mares, then?” He laughed and waggled his eyebrows. “Hot.” A fierce blush rose in Sassy’s cheeks. “That isn’t what I mean!” “Of course it isn’t. You’re so wonderfully obtuse! Why, even Seneschal Rarity would at least flirt with me if prompted so bluntly.” His laughter continued for a moment, then subsided. “Sassy, what do you do for fun?” “…Excuse me?” He swirled the glass around with his magic. “I’ve never known you to drink, or dance, or dally, and yet there must be a pony in there somewhere. So tell me, what brings that pony pleasure in life?” Sassy shook her head. “This is foolishness. I’m here to do a job.” “Could it be proving yourself right?” His eyes twinkled, and he took another sip. She clenched her teeth. “Ah, there it is! I think there must be nothing you love more than proving yourself right beyond a shadow of a doubt, so you can lord it over those who doubted you. Tell me though, are you truly satisfied frittering your days away inside that castle, trying to maintain order in a world that doesn’t give a damn?” Sassy looked away, her features contorting with barely suppressed rage. “Enough with this, Governor. I need your protection, but that is all.” He straightened in his chair. “And what if I should like to see you loosen up a bit first, Miss Saddles?” She glowered at him. “Governor Blueblood, what would this… lady-in-waiting you mentioned think of your advances?” “Very well, Miss Saddles; if that’s how you wish to play this, then perhaps you would at least accompany me to the ball I plan to hold in your honor? Oh, and don’t look so self-conscious; the nobles will be all atwitter at having both yourself and the Mistress’ Seneschal here at once. Times may change—the pegasi might all be gone, or in hiding—but you can always count on the nobility to love preening themselves in public.” A tense sensation nestled in Sassy’s gut. “I’ll agree, but know that neither my heart nor my loins will be swayed by mere foppery, nor by the spectacle of seeing bits wasted by the thousands—” “Come now; I said this would be a grand ball for the nobility,” he said, chuckling. “You have to shift the decimal point at least once!”