(100 years after Corona’s banishment)
“Please, your majesty, forgive us.” The party organizer bowed low. “We had no idea he would offend you so badly. Please, we beg you, let us make it up to you.”
Fame Fortisi bowed too, which was convenient because she didn’t need to try so hard to hide her smirk. Concerti had flamed out, she knew why, and now she could finally take the lead over him.
They’d been competing their whole lives – for the same positions on the same orchestras, for the same grants and appointments, even for the same marefriend. All had gone to Concerti – until now. Now, Concerti was doomed as a cellist. When the princess hated you, that tended to put a crimp into even the most sterling reputation.
But Fame Fortisi, though always the loser, knew that she was better than Concerti. And now, she was going to prove it.
“It was his offense, not thine,” said Luna, nodding gravely. “No pardon is necessary. I… apologize, if I gave thee the impression that I was mad at thee personally.”
“But it was still an offense. Will you let me present to you another musician, to try the piece? Please? We really do want to make you happy, and… and thank you, for what you’ve done.”
“Take care,” said Luna, in a grave voice. And, Fame sensed – though she still wasn’t looking up – that Luna was examining her. “This work is extremely personal. Musicians often reveal their thoughts of their subjects in their playing. Be certain, Fortisi, that thou art truly prepared to play this piece.”
“I am,” said Fame Fortisi. “Your majesty, I agree with you that Concerti’s performance was a travesty. I just want you to hear it the way it was meant to be played.”
And that was a lie. What Fortisi wanted was to finally win, to finally beat Concerti, to be recognized as smarter, cleverer, more talented – just plain better – like she already knew she was. But to do that, she’d have to win Luna’s favor. Hence the piece.
Luna’s tone was impossible to read. “Very well.”
And so the ballroom was set up, for a small, exclusive audience of Luna herself and a few other nobles. Fortisi took the stage and began to play.
Concerti was a fool, she thought, as she began. Does Luna seem like the type of mare to lord her power over others like that? No. She’s not Corona. Luna is of the Night. Mysterious, impossible to pin down, cleverly twisting about to confound her enemies. She didn’t win that battle with Corona due to brute strength. She won it with superior intellect, and I’m going to show that.
Luna’s theme in the final movement was not that of a cannonball smashing aside her sister. Corona’s theme was quite powerful, and Luna’s didn’t directly challenge it. But it darted around, first here, then there, sliding and skipping over the strings like a fox. Corona’s lumbered after it, casting destruction everywhere, but she couldn’t quite seem to catch it. Luna was just too clever.
In the end, Corona’s theme slowed to a sluggish crawl. It was exhausted from the struggle. And then, only then did Luna rise up and topple it. Fortisi ended the piece with a glorious cadence – Concerti had gotten that part right – and then smiled, waiting for the accolades.
They were not forthcoming.
Luna rose. She was shaking with cold fury, and if possible, she looked even angrier than she had three days ago. “I see. So that is what thee thinkst our fight was like.”
Fortisi blinked. “I, ah, wanted to pay tribute to your intellect and cleverness—“
“Yes, quite clever indeed. When my sister’s fire shattered the Western Canterlot Hospital, I suppose that was all a gambit on my part.” Luna’s voice was deathly low. “All that destruction, all that waste, masterminded by me? Is that how thou seest me?”
“No!” gasped Fortisi. “Of course not! Your majesty, I only meant to show how I thought the battle went, your triumph—“
Somehow, Luna had appeared right in front of her face. “Thou were not there. Thou, evidently, understand nothing.” Her gaze was like ice.
“I – I’ll leave,” said Fortisi, hastily.
“I think that would be wise.” Luna turned away. “Thou needst not bother applying to any more governmental performances, Fortisi.”
And so Fortisi left, and it was only later, when she also could find nopony willing to hire her, that she realized bitterly that she’d finally drawn even with Concerti.