//------------------------------//
// Chapter 1 
// Story: The Long Way Round 
// by Snaproll 
//------------------------------//

As the frosting and cake dripped slowly off his head, Prince Blueblood contemplated the conclusion of yet another Grand Galloping Gala, running down his internal catalogue for the particulars of the evening. 

Let's see...Auntie Celestia's managed to introduce some form of chaos to an otherwise orderly proceeding...check. Granted, being covered in cake and nearly being trampled by various woodland critters is...certainly new. So...why aren't I enjoying myself? He took an experimental lick of the frosting that had worked itself into his coat. No, the buttercream icing is exquisite, as always. And the crumb of the cake is likewise delightful. Another detail occurred to him. In all the chaos that had been unleashed by his Auntie's student and her compatriots, he had lost track of his valet. 

Turning to regard the chaos, Blueblood cast his eyes over the throng of ponies...stampeding seemed to be the most apt description for what they were doing. Various castle stewards were trying to get the Royal Menagerie under control, receiving various exciting scratches and bites for their trouble as they tried to herd the Menagerie from what remained of the Royal Buffet. Other ponies were dealing with various minor injuries sustained with a collapse of the reception hall...Blueblood made a note to himself to have a word with Auntie regarding the qualities of her architects. They were the rulers of Equestria, for Harmony's sake, and as Rulers, they were what everypony else measured themselves by. Having a castle built on questionable architecture and wishful thinking may not be the best idea. But still, Auntie loves her asthetics.  And her games. What he did not see, however, was the one pony he was looking for. 

Clearing his throat, he raised his voice and called above the tumult. "Concord? I say, Concord, are you out there?!" 

Ears straining, over the hubbub, he heard his name. "Blue! Blueblood, over here! By the orchestra pit!" 

Threading his way over towards the wreckage of the orchestra, Blueblood finally found his valet. The ability to keep a straight face, however, suddenly eluded him. 

Concord was young, for a valet. Though, to be fair, Blueblood was also fairly young for a Prince. The blonde maned, green pegasus had been a fairly recent hire for Blueblood's household, a recommendation from Blueblood's former, retired valet. Old Hustler had dropped some hints that his grand nephew had received a discharge from the Royal Guard due to his injuries. Though the lamed right hind leg had barely slowed down Concord on hoof, and, though a pegasus and, consequently, was usually found flying when he wasn't sleeping, Royal Guard Regulations were Royal Guard Regulations, and they forbade any soldier who could not march with his comrades. Blueblood had hired Concord on the spot. The overall matter had worked out fairly well. 

Until now. 

"C'mon, boss, wipe that smile I know you can't hide off your face and help me out of this thing!" Concord lay supine on the floor of the orchestra pit, his head firmly wedged inside the flared opening of a sousaphone, one of his rear legs trapped under a fallen marimba, twisted at what looked like an uncomfortable angle. 

"Hold on, Concord. It won't be but a moment." 

Schooling his features into neutrality, Blueblood concentrated on his magic and lifted the xylophone off his trapped valet. With another effort of concentration, his aura wrapped around the sousaphone and, with a sound not unlike a plunger being pulled from a stuck toilet, Concord's head popped free. The pegasus stallion gave it a shake, his ears twitching experimentally. "Ah...Thanks, sir. While I like getting into the music, that took things to the extreme." 

Blueblood snorted . "Well, I can't go through the trouble of finding another valet on short notice. I've barely gotten you broken in, after all." He nodded towards Concord's rear legs. "That's your bad leg, if I recall correctly. Can you walk?" 

"Of course I can walk! I can-AGH!" Concord had struggled to his hooves, but the instant he put weight on his injured leg, it crumpled beneath him. Blueblood, anticipating this, stepped in close and caught the injured stallion with his shoulder. "Steady on, Concord. I've got you." 

The pegasus blew bits of his mane out of his eyes. "Thanks, sir. I should be able to fly home. You don't have to cover me here." 

Blueblood shook his head. "Nonsense. I can't have you ruining the landscape when you try to land and invariably plow your way through the lawn, or, Auntie Forbid, one of the fountains." Blueblood shrugged as the two stallions made their way to the gala exit, the unicorn supporting the limping pegasus. "At any rate, we'll have to collect the carriage. I can tow you back home myself."

Concord's eyes rose, his expression a mix of skepticism and reluctant acceptance of the aid. "you don't have to do that, sir. What about your image?" 

"Nonsense. Duty flows uphill as it does down. What sort of a liege would I be if I abandoned one of my vassals?"

"Depressingly common, 'round these parts, sir. Did you wish to leave a note for the musicians?" 

Blueblood paused, thumping the side of his head with a forehoof. "Oh dear. I suppose I would lose my own head if it weren't attached. Thank you for reminding me, old fellow. Would you mind terribly if I propped you up here against this pianoforte?" 

Concord rolled his eyes as he was lent against the indicated instrument, gingerly favoring his injured leg. "Oh sure, I'll just try to keep from smudging it, shall I?" 

Blueblood glanced at the instrument, then back at his valet. "Considering it has a hole large enough to stick your head through, I'm certain that would be the least of the musician's worries." Lifting a quill in his magic, Blueblood scrawled a hasty note on the back of a sheet of music. To the musicians: Should you need to replace your instruments, kindly direct any inquiries to House Blueblood. Sincerely, His Royal Highness, Prince B. PS: Your rendition of Clopland's Simple Gifts  was superb. My compliments to your collective musicianship, and I shall remember your talents when next I host a soiree

Nodding to himself, Blueblood floated the note over to where it would be easily discovered by one of the musicians before helping Concord to his hooves. "Righto, let's get you back to the estate then, shall we? " 

"Oh sure, boss. No arguments here." Concord did his best to limp along next to Blueblood, supporting as much of his weight as he was able. After they'd retreated from the chaos of the main hall, they found themselves in a deserted passageway. "So", Concord asked, with confounding innocence, "How was your Gala, Boss?" 

"The Gala was most..." Blueblood considered his words carefully. His father had explained to him, repeatedly, from almost the time Blueblood could walk, that a member of the nobility should consider his words most carefully, as they could, counfoundingly, have different meanings to different ponies. It was one of the lessons that Blueblood had taken deeply to heart. But, really, the hardest thing at the moment for Blueblood, was coming up with an appropriate description for his reaction to the Gala. 

"...Disappointing." Blueblood concluded. 

"What, from the menagerie stampede and the...cake incident? Don't think I haven't noticed the fact you've got frosting in your mane still, boss." 

Blueblood shook his head. "Nah, that was par for the course." He chuffed out a laugh. "You should have seen it last year. Auntie dropped something into the custard. The guard were up to their hocks in Banana Cream for a month."

Concord gave him a sideways look. "Wait a minute. You're telling me the Custard Incident last year...the one where half the Palace Regiment can't look at a dessert anymore without flinching...was the work of your Aunt." 

"Yep." 

"Princess Celestia?" 

"Yep." 

"The one who does the whole sun raising bit?" 

"Do you know any another Princess Celestia?" 

Concord snorted. "You know what I mean." 

Blueblood grinned. "Oh, come now, Concord. What is the point of having plenipotentiary powers and all sorts of regal whatnots if you're not going to abuse it every now and then? Or, at least, that's what Auntie would say." Blueblood suppressed a shudder at the last time she'd told him that. There was a particular toilet back at his estate that would always smell faintly of bananas, no matter what his housekeepers did to it. Taking a deep breath, Blueblood continued. "There's always a certain percentage of the peerage who will use events like the Grand Galloping Gala to try and get one up on their peers and rivals, or to gain favor of Auntie Celestia." 

Concord nodded. "Or her sister." 

Blueblood nodded. "Or Auntie Luna. Though, to be fair, she's kept mostly to herself since she's...ah..."

Concord grinned. "The phrase that's most in use at the moment is 'Returned from Abroad', sir." 

"Right. That. At any rate, Auntie likes to...what's the phrase? Ah...'Throw a spanner in the works', I think, every now and then. She says that it keeps the peerage healthy if they receive a surprise heart rate test every now and then." At this point, they had reached the front drive for the castle. Concord, fishing inside his vest, pulled out a claim chit for their carriage, which they handed off to one of the attendant stallions, who rushed off at once. 

"So, boss, if it wasn't the nonsense with the menagerie, what was it?" 

Blueblood ruminated, supporting his friend and valet as he did so. He was saved from thinking it by Concord's interruption. "Was it a mare? Was she good looking?" 

Blueblood nearly cracked his neck as he whipped around. "What the hay do you mean? Oh...bother." He reached into his jacket and passed a bit over to Concord, who took it and stuck it into his own vest. The Pegasus failed spectacularly at suppressing his own smug expression as he pressed his conversational advantage. "So, was she good looking? Eligible? On the hunt for an eligible stallion to sweep her off her hooves?" 

Blueblood gave Concord a very level look. "One would suspect you of being clairvoyant." He sighed and nodded. "All those things and more, it would seem. I took her to be another social climber, seeking to better her fortunes at the expense of my own."

Concord nodded at that. "Uncle Hustler told me of some of your issues in that regard. Certain mares in the peerage seem to regard you as a prize to be won." 

"That's putting it mildly. If I were not more careful, I'm quite certain I would have been stuffed and mounted by some ambitious mare." 

At his side, Concord gave him a sly smirk. "Rather than the other way around, huh?"

"Oh, hush." There was a pause in the conversation as the attendants arrived with his carriage. With their help, Blueblood managed to get Concord up into the open coach and himself shrugged into its traces. Pausing to pass a healthy tip into the hooves of the young attendants, Blueblood pulled the carriage away from Castle Canter, doing a creditable job, he thought, of keeping a steady pace. Once they were a few hundred yards from the castle gates and away from any potential eavesdroppers, he spoke over his shoulder to his valet. "Did your Uncle ever tell you of my first foray into the Gala?"

Concord had shamelessly propped himself up on the coach's cushions, his injured leg propped up and elevated. "Nah, he didn't. What happened?"

Blueblood repressed a shudder at the memory. "I was rather openly and firmly propositioned by the Duchess Petunia of Blackwater Fen. And Lady Belladonna of House Bougainvillea. Fortunately, I managed to play the two off of them against each other."

Concord's eyebrows rose. "But...both of them are in their sixties, aren't they?"

"They were in their fifties at the time. I had just gotten my Cutie Mark. I must have been about twelve or so." 

Concord gave a low whistle as he shifted himself around, sitting in the foremost coach seat backwards, so he could look forward and so he wouldn't have to shout to be heard. "Ah. So that's why you do it."

"Do what?"

"Don't play innocent. Uncle Hus told me that much, at least. Let me see if I get things right." He began to tap out marks on the coach's frame, tallying his points as he did so. "You attend the Gala. You find a young, eligible mare there, one who's clearly angling to get herself hitched, if not to you, then somepony of roughly equal clout, fortune, and renown.. You get her slightly interested. And then, you act like the biggest, most insufferable, spoiled jerk ever born to dissuade her from pursuing you. All in the name of ensuring that you can pursue marriage on your own terms and weed out the decent mares from the vamponies."

Blueblood felt his own eyebrows climb up in surprise. "A most succinct summary. Your Uncle Hustler is ever the keen observer."

Concord nodded. "He also told me it was the most stupendously bone-headed, idiotic, ham-hoofed way to go about accomplishing your goals." 

"What?!" Blueblood jerked his neck around in shock, and, consequently, nearly swerved the carriage into a lamppost. Getting himself and the carriage under control, Blueblood couldn't help letting a note of petulant grumbling enter his voice. "He never said a thing about it to me."

"He told me that it was something you'd figure out on your own, in time." Concord shrugged apologetically. "Regardless, I think he might have had a point or two."

"How do you mean?"

"Well..." Concord was silent for a moment, ordering his thoughts. "First of all, any mare who was only interested in your title and fortune wouldn't stop just because you were the biggest jerk this side of the Badlands. No offense, boss."

"None taken. Please continue."

"Second, assuming you did find a decent mare, most of them would quit pursuing you, and mares talk to each other. About everything. So, eventually, all the decent ladies of the court..."

He trailed off, letting Blueblood continue the thought "All the decent mares would give up, leaving me alone with the sharks and social climbers."

"Yep."

"Not to mention", he continued, as a new, mortifying thought paraded through his mind, "I will have probably crushed the dreams and hearts of quite a few good mares for no good purpose."

"Also true, sir."

Blueblood tugged the cart in silence for a pair of minutes, it's weight seemingly heavier. "It appears that I owe some ladies a great number of apologies."

"Starting with this most recent one." Blueblood could hear the grin in Concord's voice as he spoke. "So, what's she like? Who was she?"

"You know, I could invite you to walk home." 

"You wouldn't, sir. For one thing, I'd just fly back. And when I tried to land, I'd aim for your bedroom window rather than the lawn. Plus, you'd be alone with your thoughts, answering the same questions I'm asking you, except you wouldn't have the insight of your clever and intelligent valet at your disposal."

"Not to mention your legendary humility." Blueblood added, drily. 

"I won't mention it if you don't. So, who was she?"

Blueblood recalled more of what happened over the course of the evening, adding pieces together. "She's a unicorn mare. White coat, blue eyes, violet mane and tail. I haven't seen her at court before, that's for certain. And I'm reasonably certain she was in Auntie's student's entourage, which leads me to suspect she's a Ponyvillain."

"I doubt the Guard would let an actual villain attend the Gala, sir."

"I meant that she was a resident of Ponyville." Blueblood responded, letting impatience creep into his tone. "Though she did have a remarkably regal bearing. Not to mention taste.  I couldn't place her ensemble, either."

"Ah, I think I know who you're talking about. My cousin Bulk moved to Ponyville a few years back. Evidently there's some seamstress mare out there trying to make it big in fashion. That sounds like her. So, what happened?"

"Oh, the usual. I was the perfect boor."

"And she left in tears, I suppose?"

"No." Blueblood mused, his tone one of curiosity. "She actually called me out on my behavior. Quite effectively and categorically, I should add."

"That's not that uncommon. I mean, if you didn't have me around, I shudder to think of how fat & swollen that head of yours would get."

"Ah, but it was part of our agreement when I hired you that you would treat me as an equal, and that you were perfectly free to speak your mind to me, albeit in private. Furthermore, most mares in the court are trying to seek my favor. They're always unfailingly obsequious and fawning."

"Whereas this lady stood up to you."

"Yes. It showed uncommon courage and intestinal fortitude." 

"Well, like you said, she's not from around Canterlot. Ponyville is pretty cosmopolitan, but it's still out in the sticks. Plus, she's got her own business. You don't get to that point without a certain amount of determination and guts."

"Fair point. Hmm..." 

Concord sat upright. "Uh oh."

"What? What is it?"

"I know that look." Concord pointed an accusatory hoof at Blueblood. "You've got your thinking face on. Thinking about that mare." 

"Friend Concord, I am merely a foppish noble. I exist to maintain my family's holdings and sire progeny. Thinking sounds too much like hard work." 

"Don't try to change the subject. You're dwelling on her, aren't you?"

Blueblood pondered Concord's words for a minute, finally able to put a hoof on what he was feeling: Guilt. She was a beautiful mare, there was no denying that. And while she obviously had been out trawling for a Husband, she clearly had no idea about the intricacies of court politics or culture. What knowledge she lacked, however, she certainly made up for in grace, poise, and, he had to admit to himself, a talent for puncturing arrogant windbags, all qualities that he admired. And he'd trampled all over "Yes...yes I suppose I am."  He turned to look over his shoulder. "Tell me, Concord. Have you ever been in love?"

The pegasus grinned. "I happen to be, yes." 

"You have my deepest condolences." 

"No need for that, sir. Daisy happens to be the prettiest mare I've ever laid eyes on, and she's fun to be around." His tone turned wistful. "I haven't seen her since a few weeks after I got discharged and you hired me. She says she's putting in a transfer to the Palace guard after she finishes her current hitch, but...well, being apart sort of stinks." 

Blueblood considered that for a minute before asking, tentatively, "How did you know when you were in love with her?" 

"Sheesh, Boss, you don't ask the easy questions, do you?" Concord sighed and thought for a minute. "I'm not sure there was one point where either of us realized it. We both just kinda bumbled aimlessly into falling head over hooves for each other." 

Blueblood sighed. "I envy you, Concord. It seems like you've got it much easier than I do in that regard."

"Hey boss, if you ever want to trade, just let me know. I'll take that massive fortune & land off your hooves for you."

"Hardly." Blueblood snorted derisively. "Should I wish to see half the realm descend into fire and chaos, I may take you up on that offer." He pulled the carriage in silence for a few more minutes, thinking. Then, nodding, he spoke. "Tomorrow, we're going to Ponyville. I wish to make amends. And perhaps I can start things off on the right hoof."

"Hah! So what's your plan?" He waved one of his forelegs expressively, his voice deepening to a parody of romance and smolder. "Behold, my dear mare, my idiotic behavior was merely a ruse to protect my fragile heart from being broken. Here I cast myself at your hooves, wishing to gain your affection and beg forgiveness for my foolish behavior." He snorted with laughter. "Boss, if I were any sort of scoundrel, I'd be selling tickets to this."

"If nothing else, it would give the mare an opportunity to hate me for who I really am." As he spoke, they rounded the corner and started up the main drive towards the family estate. A tasteful three storied affair, the mansion was not overdone, like some of the older estates in this part of Canterlot were. It didn't advertise it's wealth so much as mention it quietly to passers by, and while it may not have been as ostentatious as the estates of the newer members of the peerage, it and the grounds upon spoke of their wealth, but made mention of their integrity and taste as well. 

"I'm with you, boss. If nothing else, it'll be fun to watch." 

"Thank you, Concord. I'm overwhelmed by your support and enthusiasm." Blueblood rolled his eyes as he drew the carriage towards it's awaiting garage. 

Concord grinned at that. "It's what friends are for, boss."


***


Later that evening, after getting Concord out of the carriage and into bed, securing his valet's solemn promise to accompany him to Ponyville, Blueblood sat in his study, a set of military dispatches in front of him, alongside a snifter of brandy. After consulting a pair of reports, he set them aside and lifted a quill in his magic, composing a letter. 

Dear Auntie Celestia, 
My most heartfelt congratulations on another successful Gala. The presentation of your faithful student and her entourage, I am sure, helped perfect orchestrate this evening's escapades.
I am writing to let you know that I will be traveling to Ponyville tomorrow with my valet, should you have need of my services. 
I would also, humbly, request that we expedite a certain Lance Corporal Daisy Chain,  of the 181st Baltimare Infantry Regiment, to the Canterlot Palace Guard. I have impeccable references for her character, and I am certain she would be an asset to our regional command. 

I am, as ever, your nephew and at your service. BB 

Satisfied, Blueblood wrapped the Dragonfire enchanted scroll tightly and stuck it into a candle. The scroll flared and then vanished in a flash of emerald fire. 

Satisfied, Blueblood tossed off the last of his brandy and then blew out the candle, making his way towards his bed. Tomorrow was another day, full of opportunity.