Anon eyes his reflection with a wince.
"I look like Liberache joined the Wehrmacht."
The tailor tut-tuts as he inspects the fit, chalk and tape measures whirling around him.
"I don't exactly know what that means, milord, but I can assure you that this outfit is entirely befitting a proper Prince-Elect."
In all fairness, the jackboot-breeches-tunic combo would, in most other circumstances, work quite well. As if out of spite, however, it was decided to color the thing like a day-old bruise and stud it with diamonds, the back dominated by a bedazzled moon. It's wrapped in silver braid and ivory piping, ridiculous epaulettes clinging to the shoulders.
Anon wonders how ponies even know what jackboots are, but chalks it up to some magic nonsense—that seems to their explanation for everything, after all.
"I don't care how befitting it is, this looks terrible. Why can't I wear a suit or something?"
The tailor shakes his head and begins to ramble on about appearances and couture and such. Anon remains convinced that high fashion is an elaborate money laundering scheme.
Someone raps on the door, prompting the tailor to retire his instruments.
"And there it is. You look fantastic, milord. Please, if anypony asks, tell them that your wonderful outfit was made by Glamorous Stitch."
Fucking prick.
"I don't know why you'd want to take credit for this, but sure."
More knocks.
"I'm coming, I'm coming, hold your horses."
Anon chuckles as a crimson aura wrenches the door open.
"Heh. Horses, get it?"
A bespeckled, and decidedly unamused, unicorn occupies the threshold. She's got the look of an insufferable shrew, hair fixed in a tight bun and lips pursed even tighter. It's a face that would well suit some anarchist philosopher or middle school math teacher, and signals to the world that this mare has a very large, very painful, stick lodged deep in her ass.
"You're almost late. Get a move on."
"Who the hell are you?"
"Clear Schedule, your new assistant. As I said, get a move on."
Anon narrows his eyes and follows her into the arched marble corridor. Servants and bureaucrats flit about under mauve banners, and gilded columns shine in the light of magical torches. Despite the crowd it's remarkably quiet, the castle's ranks operating with an undeniable professionalism.
"So, who shat in your coffee this morning?"
"I hope you will refrain from using such language in Court, sir. The last thing Equestria needs is a vulgar royal—Goddess knows, Prince Blueblood's bad enough."
"Ok there, Nurse Ratched. Seriously, what's your problem?"
She bears her steely eyes on his own.
"My responsibility is to make sure that you're on time and on track. I am not here to be your friend, nor am I here to be your enemy: I am here to do my job. I may come across as rude, but I'm just being direct, which I've found gets a lot more done than sugarcoating things."
They turn their gazes forward.
"Fair enough. To be entirely honest, I'm not sure why I even need an assistant, it's not like I have any actual power."
She stops.
Anon wears a neutral mask, worry creeping out through the seams.
"Please don't tell me I have actual power."
Schedule looks equal parts confused and horrified, her ears splayed back and mouth hanging open.
"You will have the same authority, rights, and privileges as any other member of royalty. Did … did you not know that?"
Anon's mask slips, and he lets out a shuddering breath.
"Jesus fucking Christ, why the hell wasn't I told about this earlier?"
She tries to compose herself.
"I mean, it's not that bad, it's, um, certainly manageable. I doubt you'll have too many responsibilities, and I'll be there to make sure you don't mess up."
She gives a strained smile, her panic held back by sheer force of will.
"Look, I can handle the work, and I'm not gonna go around building statues of my penis or something. Trust me, I'm the last person you need to worry about."
Now she's just confused.
"Then what's the problem?"
"That some guy can become a world leader by having drunk sex! Honestly, how the hell does your government even work, there's like 15 princesses! Do they all have equal say and just … slosh around in absolute power until something needs to get done? What's your system even called?"
"Hexrarchy, but with you in the mix, it will be a Septrarchy, I suppose."
"Septrarchy."
"Yes."
He begins to pace back and forth.
"That's … awful. Honestly, there's no other way to describe it."
Anon motions down at his chest.
"So why am I dressed up like Generalissimo de la Luna?"
"All members of royalty share supreme command over the military."
Anon nearly vomits.
"What kind of loopy doopy banana republic bullshit is that?"
"It's a holdover from the Celestial Monarchy."
In other words, they forgot to update the law when Cadence ascended.
"Bloody hell. Multiple sovereigns, each with different ideologies and personalities, sharing near-complete control over the lives of millions. It's something out a fucking YA dystopian novel."
"Calm down, it looks like you're about to have an aneurysm."
Anon stops and holds a hand over his eyes.
"Sorry if I'm completely horrified by this, it's not every day you learn that you're becoming part of the worst government yet created. I'll just, fucking, I dunno, talk to Luna about it or something."
Though shaken, they resume their march.
"Anyways, where are we going?"
"You and Princess Luna are overseeing Court today. Princess Celestia decided that it would be a good way to publicly announce your engagement."
He slowly inhales.
"You all really need to start telling me things."
-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-
Luna slowly nods, mouth curled in a serene smile and back held straight.
"... the toll that we instituted in 973 was associated with a five percent decrease in hoof traffic and three … "
Glazed eyes betray a profound disinterest, yet the distance between her throne and any petitioners more than hides it.
"... in carriage traffic. Such a discrepancy was likely the result of commercial carriage use, and … "
This is an act that's been mastered over the course of millennia, a state of mental hibernation that she can enter on a whim.
"... though the economic impact was, all things considered, relatively minor, the increase in city revenue proved itself to be … "
The trick is to grunt and nod every 30 seconds or so, and thus give the illusion that you're actually listening.
"... essential services such as fire and police received a substantial budget increase, and an overall surplus allowed for … "
On the other hand, Anon doesn't even bother to conceal his boredom.
"I'm sorry, but can you get to the point?"
The petitioner sputters before rummaging through his notes.
"Right, right … sorry your highness, I'm … just looking for the part in my speech where I … "
"Ignore the speech. You obviously know more about this than anyone else, just tell me why you're here."
"Well, um, the Manehatten City Council is wondering whether or not it should increase the toll on the Hooflyn Bridge."
Anon barely restrains a sigh.
"What is the point of a city council?"
"To govern, your highness."
"Does the Manehatten City Council know what it's doing?"
"I'd say so."
Luna looks between the two with growing amusement.
"Then why did you come here?"
"I don't follow, your highness."
Anon shuts his eyes.
"The point of the Manehatten City Council is govern Manehattan, correct?"
"Yes, your highness."
"They know what's best for Manehatten, correct?"
"Yes, your highness."
"Then they should be the ones to decide on the toll, correct?"
The petitioner begins to sweat.
"I suppose so, your highness."
"Ok, good. I hereby decree … "
Anon turns to Luna.
"Can I decree things?"
"Probably not, but nopony's going to call you out on it."
He turns back to the petitioner.
"I hereby decree that the Manehatten City Council shall put on its big boy pants and make this decision by itself. Is there anything else?"
The petitioner looks like someone ran over his cat.
"... no, your highness."
"Good. You can leave now."
He scurries out of the throne room.
"Are they all like this?"
"Unfortunately."
Anon leans back and stares at the ceiling.
"It's like ruling over a nation of five year-olds."
"I suppose that they've gotten used to Sister's coddling during my absence."
Anon looks her in the eyes.
"I suppose we've got our work cut for us, then."
She raises an eyebrow.
"How so?"
"The way I see it, Equestria is a horrible mess held together by duct tape and quasi-theocracy. If I'm gonna have power, then I'm gonna use it to fix things. You in?"
He reaches out with a hand, and Luna smiles.
"Anonymous, I think that this is the start of an excellent partnership."
She shakes it.