Edmund had been happy to find a place to lie down for a few minutes to recover from the long and uncomfortable train ride, but a short nap had turned into his sleeping nearly until midnight. He hadn’t cared that the bed was too small or that the sheets were threadbare and did nothing to keep him warm. He was asleep the moment his head hit the pillow.
He felt significantly better when he woke up, no matter how late it was. He was surprised to find a lamp burning in the hallway outside of the small room he had rented. Peeking his head out, he saw movement in the kitchen of the little house he was in.
“About time you got up,” Gallus said, leaning out of the kitchen. “Come on, there’s still some food left if you want something to eat.”
Eating sounded like a very good idea. The hallway, like the rest of the house, was rather small and narrow, forcing him to keep his wings tight against his side to not hit the walls. At least it seemed to be in better shape than nearly every other place he had seen so far.
The kitchen was easily the largest room of the house, with a large cast iron stove against a stone wall. There was a large pot sitting on top of it, steam rising from the half-sealed lid, while a fire smoldered in the lower half. A number of oil lamps had been lit around the room providing more than enough light to see by. Gallus was sitting on a stool at an old stump that had been converted into a large table. He was eating something out of a bowl.
“Thank you for the bed,” Edmund said, walking up to the stove and opening the lid on the pot. Inside was a watery looking stew that seemed to be more rice than anything else, but it was food. He picked up a bowl from next to the stove, dished up some of the stew and then sat down on one of the stools at the table.
“You paid for it, would be rude not to let you use it,” he replied with a shrug of his wings.
“I still appreciate it,” Edmund said, taking a spoonful of the stew. It tasted as thin as it looked, but there was a hint of meat somewhere in it, plus some old onions and carrots mixed in. It was hardly great food, but at the moment he didn’t care; it quieted the ache in his belly. He quickly finished the whole bowl, then pushed it away.
“So, you want to talk to Gilda?” Gallus asked, leaning forward with his talon tapping at the table. “I think I can arrange that for you.”
Edmund beamed. “You can? That would be fantastic!”
The colorful griffon blinked a bit, his head cocked slightly to the side. “It’s not going to be for free.”
“I’ve got the bits,” he replied with a shrug. If there was any benefit from being who he was, it was the easy access to bits. He didn’t have a fortune with him, but it was enough to grease a few claws.
“Good,” he replied with a slight smirk.
Edmund smiled in return. “How are you going to arrange for that? It’s not like you can just walk up to the palace and ask to see her, right?”
Gallus rolled his eyes. “Nah, she’s kinda like my older sister.”
Edmund’s beak fell open as he stared at the younger griffon. “You’re kidding.”
He snorted, “Wait here,” he said, then got up and walked out of the kitchen. A few moments later he came back, holding a framed picture in his talons, which he set carefully on the table.
Hooking it with his own talon, he pulled the picture over. It was a black and white shot, slightly washed out and tinted brown, but it showed Gallus, an older hen who was looking annoyed and a much older griffon wearing a fez. There was another hen hovering in the air, beak pulled wide into a smile and tail lashing fast enough that it was almost a blur in the image.
“This was before Grizzle showed up, but that’s Gilda, right between me and Grandpa Gruff,” Gallus said.
Edmund just looked at the picture, slowly shaking his head. What were the chances that out of all the griffons in Griffonstone, and with how many more were flooding in, he would befriend the one griffon who could actually help him cut through all the red tape and let him get straight to the new princess? Something must have been looking out for him… he wasn’t sure if that something was Celestia, Discord or even Zacherle. Whatever deity had decided to meddle with his life, he wasn’t going to question it too hard for fear of angering them.
“Well… very well then. Do you think you could take me to see her in the morning?”
He shook his head. “She’s got the pony princesses showing up in the morning, and there’s this train of supplies coming in she wants us to help get passed around. The day after that is the official turnover ceremony… thing. I probably could get you into the bakery after that.”
It wasn’t as soon as he would have liked, but still better than he could have possibly done on his own. “I think that will work just fine. Is there anything I can do to help until then?”
“Just stay out of everygriff's way, and try not to look so stuck up. You need to take a bath as well. You stink of ponies.”
Fanning his wing out, he gave the feathers a sniff, wincing at the smell. He was pretty sure he smelled like all the griffons in the train, not ponies, but he wasn’t going to split primaries about it. “Point taken,” he said.
Gilda paced around the center of her shop, wings fluttering with each step and sending small feathers flying all around the room. Her head was spinning as fast as her tail was lashing, calm having fled hours before sunrise. There was one more day, one day until everything stopped being words on paper. There would be no more parties, no more reassurances, just the cold hard reality of her new life.
Just one more day, and she would officially be Princess Gilda of the new Griffon Kingdom, the first ruler in over eighty years. Not that anyone would ever know that from looking at her; she wasn’t even wearing her crown. As far as anygriff could see, she was just another stressed out hen.
“How do I even act like a princess?” she grumbled to herself as she made laps around the single large table in the center of the shop. She had been wrestling with it for weeks, but she still didn’t have an answer. For the moment all she could do was bludgeon her way through, forcing past anything that was stupid enough to get in her way.
And right now, that felt like everything.
“Not a clue,” Greta replied as she pushed a chair over to the table. She was wearing her silk scarf with the halfmoon broach, and had touches of makeup to enhance the natural green highlights of her feathers. Every one of her primaries were perfectly preened and her talons had all been trimmed, though in deference to their soon to arrive guests the tips had been blunted.
“Thanks,” she replied with a slight roll of her eyes.
Grabbing a rag, Greta walked over to Gilda. “Bet princess wear less flour,” she said, using the rag to wipe off the other griff’s face and beak.
Gilda snorted and pulled back, shaking her head. “Are you finished?”
Reaching up, she ran the rag over the feathers of Gilda’s crest. “You don’t want the others thinking you’re just a baker.”
“I am a baker,” she growled.
Greta just smiled and shook her head, turning around and heading back into the kitchen, passing Skychart as he came in with a tray of scones held in his wings. “You can be a baker and a princess,” he said as he slid the tray onto the counter. He had brushed his mane and fur, as well as preening his feathers—though a few were already out of place.
“You’re a pony. Tell me, how am I supposed to act like a princess?” she asked.
He shrugged. “I don’t know, act aloof and look pretty? I never really thought about it before. The closest a pony like me could ever hope to get to them was when they were touring the weather factory.”
Then without warning there was a knock on the door.
Gilda let out an undignified squawk as she spun to face the door, the feathers on her neck fluffing out. “It’s not even noon yet, right?”
“Noon was an hour ago,” Greta replied as she pushed her way out of the kitchen, a platter of tea held in one claw as she walked carefully towards the table.
“Buck,” she whispered under her breath, her heart trying to claw its way out of her throat. A thousand things were going through her mind: how she wasn’t ready for any of this, that maybe she should have repaired the broken window instead of just covering it with boards, or maybe removed the curtains that cover the rest of them. Had she made enough scones and pastries for everyone? And should she be opening the door herself or have one of her friends do it?
With a long breath, she forced herself to calm down. Whatever was going to happen, she wasn’t going to show any weakness, she couldn’t. With a flash of her tail, she swept her crown of the table and caught it with a talon, placing it on her head as she walked to the door.
With a flick of her claw, she unlocked the door and pulled it open. Standing on the other side were all four of the princesses, who were all talking softly with each other. “Hello,” she said, not quite sure how to address the quartet. What was the proper term for a herd of princesses? “Um… please, come in?” she said, stepping out of the doorway.
Princess Celestia lead the procession, stepping into the shop with a warm smile on her face. She was followed by princess Luna, who held a neutral expression as she looked Gilda over before giving her a slight nod. After that was Twilight Sparkle, with Princess Cadence bringing up the rear. Gilda had never seen the Princess of Love before, and she was surprised at just how pink she really was.
Once they were all inside, she closed the door and turned to face the four of them. “How should I address all of you?”
“We are all equals here, so there is no need to use titles,” Celestia said, walking over to the table and sitting down at one of the five mismatched chairs. She was wearing her saddlebags again, in fact all of the princesses were.
Suddenly Twilight Sparkle was hugging her, which caused her to fan her wings out in surprise. “You look wonderful,” the younger mare said as she pulled away.
All Gilda could do was blush and blink in surprise as the mare walked to the table. She had only met Twilight once before, back at the disaster of a party, and that was when she was still a unicorn. It felt odd to be so familiar with someone who was little more than a stranger to her. “Thank you,” she managed to choke out.
The rest of them all filtered to the table, taking their seats. As Gilda sat down, between Cadence and Luna and facing Celestia, she found herself looking at the four mares, finding it almost impossible to meet their eyes. They were the most powerful ponies in the world, and here they were, sitting in her shop, all to see her. “It’s a pleasure to meet you all,” she finally said, trying to sound like she knew what she was doing, but it felt fake to her. She wanted to say something more, something important, but she found she had no idea what it would be.
Greta and Skychart quickly flocked around the table, pouring tea for all the ponies and putting small plates with scones and pastries in front of each of them. They moved quickly then slipped away once they were done, moving to stand behind the counter.
Celestia just smiled and lifted up the tea cup to her lips, taking a sip of it. “This is a historic moment. The first summit of all five princesses of Equestria.”
Gilda felt the blood drain from her face. Celestia was right, she was now one of the rulers of Equestria. Ponies would look up to her like they would to any of the other princesses, even if she was a griffon. Some of the griffons were already treating her like that, and she hated it. That was still a day before it all became official, she could always throw herself at the mare’s hooves and beg to be let out of the insanity. She didn’t have to do this, she didn’t have to be this!
She placed her head in her claws; this was just too much for her to take in.
“Gilda, are you okay?” Cadence asked from her seat to the right of her.
“No, I’m not okay. I’m not… I’m not cut out for this,” she mumbled through her claws before lifting her head to look at them. “I’m not a princess. I’m not anygriff. I’m just me! I have no idea how to lead anyone, how to make others listen to me or respect me. I don’t know how to fix anything, but everyone is expecting me to.”
She scrunched up her beak for a moment, then slumped into her chair as her strength fled. “I’m scared,” she admitted, her voice trembling. The words themselves almost more than she could bare. “Everygriff is depending on me to help them, and it terrifies me. I don’t know how I could possibly do any of it, how any creature could possibly do it. It so big, and I don’t even know where to start. What if I just make everything worse, what will happen to us then?”
Celestia reached out across the table with her hoof. “Gilda, it’s okay to be scared, but you can’t let it consume you. There is a great deal of things that need to be done, but you don’t have to do them alone. You have the four of us to turn to whenever you need help, and you have your friends who are standing by your side.”
“As for not being a princess, that is not what I see. In the weeks since I was last here, the town square has been repaired and cleaned up, and it seems that the dead tree is soon to be replanted. There have been repairs on almost every building in sight, and I spotted a number of flags hanging around the town. Some of which have been recently made.”
“I didn’t even ask for the flags, they just started appearing on their own,” Gilda said, blushing a little though her feathers. She had hoped they wouldn’t see those, but there seemed to be more every day.
“That is because they have accepted you as their new leader,” Luna explained. “Just by wearing the crown you have given your griffons a sense of hope and purpose. For themselves, for the kingdom, and for the future.”
Gilda’s wings sagged under the weight of the words. “I just don’t know how to be a princess,” she said.
This time it was Twilight who spoke. “I know how you feel Gilda, I still don’t know how to be a princess. The best I can offer is that you just need to be yourself.”
“But ‘myself’ is a coarse and crude bitch!” she protested.
Twilight’s eyes went wide at that while Luna and Celestia shared a small smile. Cadence just shook her head at the younger mare’s reaction.
“Your people understand that,” Luna said. “Being a princess does not mean you have to be nice, or stand around and look pretty, to launch ships and attended fashionable events. You are a princess to help your people rebuild their homes and lands. You are a princess to be there to make the hard choices that have to be made, to fight the battles that must be fought, to destroy any obstacle in their way, and to make sure the job gets done. And yes, there will be galas and events that you will have to attend, and you will have to look pretty and formal far more often than you would desire, but that is not why you are a princess. Helping your people is.”
Cadence nodded at that. “It’s not easy being the one that everypony looks up to, to be the one to show them the way forward. I was taught all about being a princess from the moment I got my horn until I took the throne of the Empire. Ten years of learning everything that I needed to know. Yet for the first few months as a ruler I felt like I knew nothing! You have one advantage that I didn’t have, your griffons already know you. My ponies had been unstuck in time for a millennium, and before that they were crushed under the iron hoof of a mad tyrant. They had no idea who I was or why I was now ruling them. It was weeks before they would even look me in the eye, let alone tell me what they really thought about what I was trying to do. Even now, some of them hesitate to tell me what they really think, out of fear of how my predecessor acted.”
While it all sounded good to her ears, Gilda found that it didn’t do anything to help her. It didn’t actually answer any of the questions going through her mind. The only thing she got from that was to just keep trying to be herself… yet herself as a princess. It seemed like a sick joke, but they all seemed so confident that it was the best advice. Maybe it was, they would know better than her.
She looked down at her talons as they rested on the surface of the table, the points not quite digging into the woods, no matter how much she wanted to rip into it. The title felt weird to her, the role she found herself in was even stranger, yet most of the griffons seemed happy with her so far.
Without a word, she slid off her chair and walked over to the windows, pulling back the edge of the black sheet to peak out onto the square. It was filled with griffons, with a few ponies mingled in. Some were talking with each other, others were flying around, and many of them were just sleeping where there was room to do so. Yet almost all the attention on was on her bakery, all of them waiting for what would happen next, what she would do next.
No, they weren’t just griffons anymore, they were her griffons. She was responsible for them now. When she had gone to school in Equestria, she had gotten to see just what sort of life the ponies had. How much better they had it than griffons did. It was now on her shoulders to try and bring some of that back to her griffons.
“Where do I even start?” she asked herself, half whispering the words. She had to make things better for all of them, she had to try. She couldn’t be like the old rulers, who only cared about themselves and ran away the moment there was trouble.
In the distance she could see the edge of the old palace, the imposing building hanging over the city like a distant cloud. It had been built to be visible by every griffon in the city, yet also to keep as many griffons out as possible. There was only one narrow path leading up to the gate, and all the towers and buttresses were built to make it as hard as possible to land on. It wasn’t a place meant for normal griffons to go. Yes, the old king had ruled from there, his throne room in the top of the highest spire, towering above the griffons that made up the kingdom itself.
A castle in the sky, crumbling into ruin.
In a flash she made a decision, a silly and impulsive decision, but one that she knew, deep in her heart, was right. “I won’t live in the castle,” she said, some of the confidence coming back into her voice as she turned around to face the other princesses.
“Tear it down, or let it rot. I don’t care. This bakery is the first thing I ever made for myself, the first thing I could really call my own. It’s my home,” she slammed her talons onto the stone floor. “I am not going to let it go. I’m not going to leave it just to sit above every other griffon like the old kings,” she declared.
Celestia smiled at Gilda. “Very admirable. I have asked a few ponies I trust to look into reinforcing the old castle. I won’t have them do more. Maybe once the rest of the problems are solved you can turn it into a museum.”
“Or you could put the parliament up there, and tell them to fix it themselves,” Cadence added, which caused her and Luna to share a small laugh.
Gilda sat back down in her chair. She felt better now; somehow making that one decision—her first real decision as a princess—helped put her mind at ease. At least for the time being. Not that the bakery made for much of a throne room, but there was nowhere else to put it. The shop truly was her home, she lived in one of the two small bedrooms on the second floor, with Greta in the other.
Twilight was digging in her saddle bag, pulling out a thick book and starting to flip through the pages. “If you don’t want a castle, how about something like this,” she said, setting the book down and pushing it towards Gilda, holding it open with the edge of her hoof.
On the open page was a picture of terraced houses, a dozen narrow homes all connected together along the length of the street. It was the sort of thing that was common in the older pony cities. They were only three stories tall, and judging by the pattern of windows and doors the homes wouldn’t have been much bigger than her bakery. Strangely, a number of the doors looked flat, like they were only painted on. There was a small sign above the center most doorway, but it was unreadable in the image.
“So what?” she asked, pushing the book back.
“These houses have been converted into a large hotel, but kept the original façade. Instead of a castle, you could build something like this here in the square and have the bakery a part of it. It will provide you the space you need for the government offices, a throne room and a private home for yourself.”
She cocked her head to the side, looking at the picture again. It seemed like a strange idea, but there was something to it. It would mean that the palace was at the center of the town. Not high above them, not watching from the distance, but right in the town square where ever griffon could go.
“So instead of a castle in the sky, I would be a part of the city. I like that idea,” she said.
Luna nodded in agreement, but before she could say something in response, she was interrupted by the sound of yelling and squawking coming from outside of the bakery. It was the sound of two griffons fighting. Gilda used to hear it every night, but not for the last few weeks. Having it suddenly return came as a shock.
She was out of her chair in a moment, pulling the sheet off the intact window. Outside a pair of griffons were fighting near the center of the square. Feathers and fur flying as one of the griffons tried to leap into the air only to be yanked back down by the other.
Gilda stared at the fight for a few seconds, then shook her head and started to turn away, only to discover Luna was standing behind her.
“You should go and put a stop to it,” she said.
“Why?”
Luna motioned out the window. “Because they are your people, and they need you to lead them to a better way. To show them that such things are no longer necessary, or tolerated.”
Gilda let out a sigh, deflating slightly as her wings sank down against her back. “I hope you're right,” she said, then spun on her paws and rushed out the door.