//------------------------------// // Razing the Battlements Part 3 // Story: She Drives Me Batty // by I Thought I Was Toast //------------------------------// One last thundering belch rent the air as I knocked on Sweetie’s door. The twins giggled like loons under moon as Aunt Mercy tried to sunder the very heavens themselves with her cataclysmic powers. Pushing sucked in a breath to once more try—and fail—to top her mother; her adorable face squished and scrunched as she reached for the dregs of her stomach, while her mother smirked and patted her back in encouragement. All that emerged, however, was a small squeak as Pushing pushed the last little bit of gas from her sensitive tummy. “What a champ, eh?” Aunt Mercy smirked as she kept rubbing her daughter’s back. “Kept up with me all the way here.” I rolled my eyes even as I smiled. The sound of hoofsteps was fast approaching, and I thanked the Nightmother dearly for the fact that I wouldn’t be chatting with Sweetie as my aunt burped the Lunar Imperial March. The door opened to Sweetie—radiant as always—beaming cheerily and humming the latest new hip hop tune. Her sparkling smile turned almost blinding as she saw me, and she came in for a hug that probably should have burned with how sunny she was. “Oh my gosh, Night! What a nice surprise! I was just about to head out to meet the girls. You want to join? You were, uh… kinda busy plotting revenge when we asked you before.” “Kinda busy still taking care of the troops.” I pulled back, shaking my head; I gestured to where Aunt Mercy and the foals were smiling with wide eyes and little halos. “Do you guys have Rarity’s suppressor ring still? The one from when she was a foal? Pushing’s surges are getting worse, and she keeps destroying the nursery.” “Awww… is somepony just a widdle bundle of twouble?” Sweetie cooed as she sashayed forward to lean in and look Pushing in the eye as the little foal burbled on Aunt Mercy’s back. Her smile continued to dazzle as she hummed and lit her horn, its soft light surrounding Pushing and tickling her into a giggling fit. “Alright, let’s see, then.” Her horn sparked a bit—eliciting more foalish giggles—and Pushing’s horn sparked in kind. A nearby frog tumbled mid hop as it turned into a fruit-flavored abomination; the twerps instantly pounced on it to further torment it by poking and prodding and licking it. Another spark from Sweetie caused Pushing to sneeze, and I had to leap to catch the little rascal as she appeared in thin air where Sweetie had been. “Wow!” Sweetie laughed as she untangled herself from the pile of limbs she and Aunt Mercy had made as they’d tumbled to the ground in confusion. “She’s got a gift! I can see why that’d get out of hoof in a cloud house. Come on in and wait in the kitchen. I’ll go see if Mom and Dad kept Rarity’s ring. I know they kept it around for me, just in case.” “You ever need it?” I gave a few spec ops signals to Aunt Mercy before I went through the door, and she dutifully gathered the twins to take them and move the blast zone away from the house. Her salute was lazy and sloppy with an exasperating amount of insubordination baked right in, but she had obeyed nonetheless, so I merely rolled my eyes. Sweetie’s house was as poofy and cutesie as ever. Mrs. Cookie Crumble loved her lace and ceramics, and so almost the whole house was stuffed with figurines and doilies. Souvenir plates lined the wall, and shelves were loaded with tea pots and tea cups. A rather disturbing amount of them had little, magically animated kittens on them, and even though they meowed and played and made the most adorable noises, they always made the hair on the nape of my neck stand up. Afraid or not, I strode through the hall past the many meowing miscreants, relaxing only just as I peeked in Mr. Magnum’s stallion cave to see that the one fortress of daddly-tude in the house was as lace-free as ever. It was just a bit further, and the kitchen was thankfully knickknack-free. Mrs. Crumbles still didn’t trust her plates not to get used in there, and there were more important things to line the walls with—pots, pans, baking sheets and more. There were almost as many ovens as Sugarcube Corner, all a testament to Mrs. Crumble’s favorite hobby; I nabbed a few cookies from one of several jars on the counter before sitting, just ‘cause I knew she’d be mad if I didn’t. Just the thought of it sent shivers down my spine. Tartarus hath no fury like a housewife ruling her domain. I hummed at the taste of cinnamon and sugar as I nibbled away, kicking my legs in my seat as I glanced around. My ears flicked as I traced Sweetie tromping around the house, although it was hard to get an exact position with her constantly bellowing for her parents. There was muffled conversation as she found them, and even more tromping as that led to three sets of hooves moving about rather than one. The construction noises were a bit more disconcerting, but hay, I’d learned my lesson with Aunt Mercy. Finally, after what felt like ages, Sweetie trotted back down the stairs to meet me, still beaming if now a bit dusty and sweaty. “Pre—” She gave adorable, squeaky little gasps as she panted. “Pretty sure it’s not in the house, but Rarity might have it! A couple years ago there was this weird bondage and latex fad with the Canterlot nobles, so she borrowed it to get ideas.” “Of course she did.” I sighed and rolled my eyes. “Pretty much sums up everything wrong with nobles in a nutshell, am I right?” “Oh?” Sweetie tittered as a smirk flashed out from behind one hoof. “And just who was it the girls and I walked in on, pinning DT with a growl?” “Th-that’s different!” I blushed black as the Nightmare and hastily looked back and forth, fearful the mere mention of that little incident would summon Dad from the shadows. No sign of any parents—mine or otherwise—but I leaned in to hiss quietly all the same. “Predator-prey play is a totally different thing, and you know it. More importantly, though, that was private. No pony, not even stuffy nobles, should be flaunting that kinda stuff everywhere they go.” Sweetie tittered harder. “I didn’t say they wore it in public, Night. Geeze.” Flashing another grin, her dimples could have beaten a stallion to death from twenty trots. “She had a much more toned down line for the public stuff. Mostly just latex and faux leather.” “Wait….” My face scrunched as I recalled one particularly odd Hearth’s Warming in Canterlot. “Was that the year all of Canterlot was really into ‘ponies of the night’?” I made air quotes with my hooves, face souring further as Sweetie nodded. “Sweet milk of Luna, tribalist guano guzzlers, the lot of them.” Sweetie’s laugh rang light and pure as she batted my shoulder with her hoof. “Maybe you oughta challenge a few to that ritual combat thing, hrmmm?~ Anyways, the girls are waiting on me, so unless you changed your mind about joining us…” “Nah.” I shook my head and smiled in kind. “Say hi to them for me, though. Maybe give Diamond a hug.” “Just a hug?” Sweetie pouted. “But what if your princess wants a full-fledged kiss?~” I slugged Sweetie in the shoulder as gently as I could, but it still made her squeak and wince. “If she wants a kiss, you tell her I’ll be giving her triple tomorrow the instant I see her at school. Doesn’t matter if I have to storm into homeroom late and do it in front of Miss Cheerilee, that filly of mine is getting her knight in shadowed armor.” “Teeheehee!” Sweetie rubbed her shoulder and rolled it as we walked back towards the door. “I’ll be sure to let her know.” I stepped outside to find the fruity menace had multiplied. Red and Rolling had been hunting for tributes to their cousin it seemed, and the three of them giggled like loons under moon as the terrible twosome would bring Pushing something other than frogs to twist and warp. And it wasn’t just fruit. Banana crickets. Rose petal butterflies. Peach… tarantulas? Where in tartarus did they get hold of a tarantula? I shook my head. Not important. What was important was the delicious, little abominations were drawing stares. Ponies were edging by, and the Flower Sisters had already fainted nearby; Aunt Mercy was doing little more than helping Miss Roseluck up, only to snicker when she fainted again almost immediately. The frog from earlier feebly croaked as it crawled away—now back to normal save for the thousand-yard stare and dead, glassy eyes. It briefly looked at me, and I was nearly lost in a gaze that spoke of unending madness. I sighed at the sight of it all and nodded to Sweetie one last time—the mare trying and failing not to join my brothers in tittering like mad. Sauntering forward and booping each of the three foals on their noses, I schooled my expression. “Alright, alright. That’s enough fun and games, you two. Pushing might hurt herself if you keep going. Unicorn foals don’t really know their limits, remember? Besides, we don’t want her getting it in her head she has to cast to get attention. That’ll get messy and tiring for everypony involved real quick.” “Aww… but Niiiiiiight…” As both twins leveled weapons-grade pouts at me, Pushing slowed her giggles to look between them. This was quickly followed by her mimicking them, and Nightmother above that face was like a spear to the heart. I held my ground, though—as all good soldiers do.  Totally didn’t hesitate.  Totally didn’t waver.  And definitely didn’t bite my tongue to avoid showing any signs of weakness. No, I faced the adorable solfire with an unflinching gaze and strode forward without fear of getting burned. Scooping up Pushing, I only grumbled a little as I returned her to Aunt Mercy; unsurprisingly, my aunt was as impish as ever, shamelessly booping my snoot like I was the one acting foalish. I rolled my eyes at her, and swatted her hoof away with my wing as she tried again, moving back to drag the twerps away from their horde of eldritch monstrosities. “Alright, troops.” I kept my pace measured and almost marching—back straight, hooves firm, and maybe just a bit of non-regulation sway to my hips. “Sweetie didn’t have what we were looking for, but she said her sister might. We’re going to head for the boutique and pray to the Nightmother that Princess Twilight isn’t there getting a fitting.” Red gasped from my back and tried to climb up my head in protest. “What? Why?! Princess Twilight is best princess, Night!” “Debatable.” I snorted without rolling or rearing my head, the faintest hint of a smile on my face. “But it’s less about the princess and more about the escort she’ll have. We’re trying to get this all taken care of without dragging Mom and Dad in, okay?” “Hmph!” With a huff, Red buzzed his wings and stuck his tongue out. “Fine… but if you’re praying to Princess Luna for Princess Twilight not to be there, I’m gonna pray to Princess Twilight for her to be there!” He puffed out his chest and preened. “And since Princess Twilight beats Princess Luna, I win! She’s more pretty and powerful and smart, and she could totally do everything Princess Luna does if she wanted! I mean, her special talent’s magic! Isn’t that awesome?! She can cast anything! Luna just does dream magic, so she’s…” If one had squinted, they might have seen my miniscule eye roll, but I let Red carry on as we walked. Much better that he squeal like a fanfilly than plot nefarious schemes or pick my nose. Aunt Mercy chuckled as she sashayed beside me with a predatory grace. Her wings rustled as she glanced me over with a smirk even more insubordinate than Scoots’ or Rumble’s, and when she finally made her move it was in whispers too soft for the trailing Rolling to hear and too high for Red to catch. “Sooooo… that friend of yours was pretty cute. You ever lay a few clicks on that pretty, white flank? I bet the echo is fantastic.” “Screep!” My practiced poise was shattered with a sudden and embarassing face plant as I tripped and blushed a deep, burning black. “Oh my gosh, Auntie, really?!” For her part, my Aunt merely cackled. “Sorry, sorry. Couldn’t resist. Seriously, though, I’m curious now. A little bit of looking is healthy, you know? You’re not gonna just glide through life staring at nothing but your hooves when other mares are around, are you?” I snorted and unjumbled myself from a dazed and dizzy Red. “What do you think I am? A wimp? I’m no longer the shy little filly who could barely stomach the thought of colts and cooties, you know.” “Screeheehee?” Aunt Mercy tittered and hid her smirk behind one hoof. “So you do look?” “No.” I shook my head as I put Red back on my back and continued soldiering on towards Rarity’s. “I just don’t see the need to when I already have the prettiest princess at the ball.” “Hrmmm…” Aunt Mercy squinted at me before chuckling and rolling her eyes. “Well, I guess you can’t take after your father in everything. Maybe it’s just ‘cause you’re still coasting on puppy dog love.” “Excuse me?” Arching my brow, I turned to look at my Aunt. The boutique was woefully far up the road—close enough to see, but yet so far as to only invite despair. “You heard me.” Aunt Mercy snickered and rustled her wings, ducking as I tried to thwap her with a wing. “Hey! Don’t get mad at me! That’s what it is! She’s your first crush for Luna’s sake! You think you can learn everything you can about love from just one pony?” “I can learn enough.” “Didn’t say you couldn’t.” With a shrug, my aunt looked off towards home. “I learned more just crushing on your dad than I did with the literal sea of coltfriends I had during and before him.” I shivered and closed my eyes, taking a deep breath. “Can you not? Please?” There was a brief, pregnant pause as we inched ever closer to the boutique on the horizon. “Sorry….” Looking at my aunt, her ears were splayed back and her cocky grin was gone. “I didn’t mean it like that. I keep your letters, you know…. Reread them and stuff? Diamond does sound like a good mare; I just don’t see you two beating the odds, though.” “The odds of what?” I bristled. “Life.” Aunt Mercy shrugged. “Can’t learn without making mistakes.” There was a ghost of a grin. “I’ve made more than most and I still haven’t completely learned. Can you blame me for being a little worried with how perfect you make things sound sometimes?” Finally, with glacial slowness, the boutique was just one block away, so I quickened my pace to pull ahead before I could even start to wonder if Aunt Mercy had a point. “I’m not having this discussion with you. Not now. Not ever.” Aunt Mercy sighed as she shrugged in acceptance, though a devilish smirk broke across her face as she yelled after me in a perfectly normal pitch everypony could hear. “Have it your way, pipsqueak! You need any advice for going between the sheets, though, and I’m your mare.” Well, that did it. “Screep!” My resolve shattered as I broke into a canter and routed, dashing through the door to the boutique and almost slamming it shut. My coat was on fire as I fanned myself with my wings, dancing from hoof to hoof. “Wheeee!” A little hoof smacked at my flank. “Giddy up! Giddy up! Do it again, Night!” Red bounced on my back, somehow ignoring the fire. From somewhere outside, the witch’s cackle grew louder. “That’s what she said!” “Nightmother above, why me?” I moaned, rustling my wings to get them under control. “Can’t she just settle for torturing Dad?” “Pffft! The lunkhead’s got thicker skin than when I first met him.” The jingle of the door sounded again as Aunt Mercy followed me in with Rolling peeking out from between her hooves. “You, on the other hoof?” She smirked. “You’ve still got some of your innocence for me to ruin~” “Welcome to Carousel Boutique! Where every garment is chic, unique, and magnifique!” And there was my savior of the hour, waltzing into the room with grace and nobility rather than my aunt’s cocky assurance. “I do apologize for the wait, but— Oh! Nightingale! I’m afraid Sweetie isn’t here this weekend if you’re looking for her.” Rarity tilted her head as she took in Aunt Mercy with a little, frowning tsk and a tilt of her head. The frown was gone in an instant, though, as she saw my aunt… looking around the store? It was my turn to tilt my head, ear flicking at Aunt Mercy’s critical hums. “Or are you here on business, perhaps?” With a smile as radiant as her sister’s, Rarity tossed her mane back and fluttered her lashes. “As a friend of the family, I’m happy to give you and yours a discount if you need anything.” I chuckled and rubbed the back of my neck as I glanced over the many mannequines and the girly, frou-frou nightmares they wore. “Well, we are here on business, Miss Rarity, but we’re not exactly looking for any dresses.” Nodding to my aunt and the burbling filly on her back, I flashed a smile at the fashionista. “This is my Aunt Mercy and her little filly Pushing Daisies.” “Ah, yes!” Her titter was like tinkling silver bells as Rarity moved about to touch things up here and there even as we talked. The room was immaculate as it was, but she still somehow found work to do. “Sweetie mentioned some other family members had moved in with you, dear! I was wondering when I’d get to work my magic on them! I suppose knowing you and your father, I’ll be making some more dress uniforms?” Aunt Mercy immediately perked up a little. “I’m more than fine with dresses, actually, but I suppose I wouldn’t say no to a nice uniform.” She smirked. “Most of the dresses here don’t seem like my style. I prefer something a bit more—” She licked her lips. “—predatory. I’m not some poofy pink princess; I’m a hunter, through and through.” Pursing her lips, Rarity looked my aunt up and down, eyes lingering on Aunt Mercy’s chest, wings, and flank. “Hrmmm… yes… you do have the sort of majestic form befitting a lion or a tiger. Most of my normal wares just will not do—” With a gesture to the surrounding dresses, she harrumphed. “—much less all the lace and frills that are currently in season. Come, come! Let me fetch you something far more fetching!” I opened my mouth to protest only to shut it as Aunt Mercy was caught in the iron grip of the stitch witch and pulled towards the back with a screep. I had to round up the twins and follow quickly, because the terrible twosome was whispering with that look—Red grinning like a blimp full of imps, Rolling just sorta shiftily looking about ‘cause he knows but doesn’t wanna snitch. The two were thick as thieves and I could not afford these dresses, so shepherding them into the back it was. I plopped them down by the majestic and mega-sized block set Miss Rarity kept for just such troublesome youngsters, and the twins took one look at the magnificent palace the previous foals had built before storming it like they were hungry ursa majors. There was a yelp from inside the fort as it collapsed, and when the dust settled, a gangly little colt of about three levitated all of the blocks around in a whirling little swarm as he glared at the twerps. Radiant white and tough, hardboiled payne just like his mother, little Elusive tossed back his perfectly cut, wavy mane and squeaked out a battle cry before he started pelting my brothers mercilessly. A single, lady-like cough immediately made him pause and look at his mother, and when she sniffed and arched an eyebrow at him, he squeaked again and started pelting my brothers again in a remarkably coordinated assault that sheperdaded the three of them into yet another room. “There we go.” Miss Rarity nodded in approval as the last block followed in a mystical aura. “Really, Nightingale, your brothers can be such brutes. It doesn’t take that much discipline to raise a gentlecolt, does it?” Aunt Mercy had stopped her feeble struggles to watch; she now whistled most approvingly. “Nightmother above, and here I thought you were just a prissy noble wannabe. Maybe I oughta be looking at you for lessons rather than Morning.” “Hey!” I snorted and frowned. “Mom’s still awesome! She’s just a bit more… lax with Red and Rolling. I’m still the best dang soldier you’ll find from here to the frozen north!” “Diligent in all things, stoic when need be, strong yet caring, and an ego starting to match her father’s, how handsome!” Rarity tittered as she levitated several measuring tapes to start wrapping Aunt Mercy up like a mummy. “So many mares do swoon over just the right amount of swagger. Careful with that confidence, though, or you might just get burned.” Aunt Mercy snickered only to bite her lip as the stitch witch pricked her as the price for daring to move. “Tempered— Screep! Son of a— Screep! Ah! The sun-blasted lug always did like flying straight for the sun.” “So I’ve seen.” I giggled as Rarity deftly pinched my aunt’s jaws closed with a snap when the next prick made her hiss. “Uh… Miss Rarity, I know you’re probably excited about making a new dress, but we really aren’t here for one and neither of us can afford it.” I ducked as a pin cushion whooshed past me in a fit of inspiration—Aunt Mercy already buried in even more layers of fabric as her mummification continued. “We’re, uh… actually here to see about borrowing the suppression ring you had as a foal?” The swirling storm of needles, thread, scissors, and ribbon paused for a moment as Rarity blinked and looked at me. “Really?” I nodded. “Hrmmm…” Rarity tapped her chin with one hoof. “Oh, well… guess I’m doing yet another freebie. Your aunt just has such a lovely color combination; she can pay me with a bit of part time modelling.” With a school filly giggle, the seamstress bounced from one hoof to another with dainty, little clip-clops. “Ruby eyes and a raven black mane?~ My, oh my, you are just perfect for modelling some of my more… private lines~” Aunt Mercy—mouth half open and head reared back as she readied a scathing hiss—paused to narrow her eyes and give a sultry, half-lidded smirk. “Oooooooooh? Your private wares, hrmmmm?~ Now that is an interesting offer. What’s the pay like, and would I be able to keep whatever you have me model?” Rarity hummed and pulled a paper calculator out of one of several drawers scattered about. A roll of paper soon followed from a different drawer on the other side of the room, and it clicked neatly into place as Rarity continued to scrutinize Aunt Mercy. She barely looked at the device as the little keys click-clacked in rapid succession, only arching a brow at it as she tore the paper off to finally examine it. “Well… I normally do include outfits worn as part of the salary, but my private lines are a bit of a special case. I’ve been reluctant to do that ever since one of my previous models had the gaul to go selling my priceless gifts for extra bits.” Rarity’s sniff was haughty enough to behead a filthy commoner at fifty paces. “As if I don’t take extra care to reward my models well. I don’t cheat my models out of their hard work like some designers; I make sure they receive their fair share.” “Oh, I have no intention of selling them, dear.” Aunt Mercy’s grin was hungrier than the sun as her fangs flashed and she licked her lips. “I’ve had more money than I knew what to do with before, didn’t much care for it. I spend my money on worthwhile things, Miss Rarity, and let me tell you, if your lingerie is just as sharp as your dresses, then I’d almost be more than happy just to be paid in outfits.” My aunt tsked. “In fact, I’m rather sorry I didn’t look into your lines sooner. You have a much better eye for color than Hoity Toity or Prim Hemline.” She gestured at the dress; a dark mishmash of sable night and various irons, the skirt came in two layers—an outer simple cloth sheet that was cut to leave little to the imagination, and a complex inner layer of interwoven belts and buckles that had been spaced to show off plenty of leg. Nightmare black garters graced each leg with silken smoothness, and the chest piece was a sinful looking corset pretending to be a sweater vest to a rich iron shirt with a v-neck. It was exactly the sort of dress I hated most—undeniably gorgeous even to me, and yet something I could never, ever wear. “I mean, really—” Aunt Mercy ran a hoof down the iron shirt. “—you managed to whip this up in less than an hour from scraps, and I didn’t even need to tell you to use burgundy rather than merlot. Most designers slip under such time constraints.” “Oh darling, you don’t know the half of—” Both Rarity’s and my ears flicked in unison, the two of us blinking, mouths slightly agape as Aunt Mercy continued admiring the dress. “I’m sorry, but what did you just say?” Rarity tilted her head. “Forgive me if I misheard, but it sounded like you just said burgundy? I thought all thestrals were, ummm… that is to say…” “Colorblind?” Aunt Mercy snorted. “We are, but what sort of snobby, pureblooded noble is going to let a weakness as inconvenient as that stop them? Fashion is a weapon for the nobility, and my mothers made sure I was well-versed in discerning colors as they should be.” Even rolling her eyes, I could see a ghost of a smile hiding in her frown. “I got lots of lessons most folks would consider useless, but at least I liked looking sharp. Fashion was like, the one thing I could talk with my mothers about.” Shaking her head, my aunt threw back her head cackling gleefully. “Screeheeheehee! So yes, I’m more than fine being your model, Rarity. I may even be able to help here or there. I’ve been told more than once I’ve got a good eye. All I want out of it is some nice clothes I can flaunt about.” She winked at the seamstress with an evil and predatory grin. “And I have just the ponies in mind to flaunt them to, too, so give me your best shot and I’ll spread word of you far and wide.” Rarity’s titters did not help my blush as she fluttered her eyelashes and all but pranced as she continued making little adjustments to the dress. “Oh, you and I are going to just be the best of friends, darling.” My aunt’s grin grew even as I groaned and buried my head in my hooves. “Awww… come on, pipsqueak. Get your mind out of the gutter. For all you know, I was talking about dear old daddy-dead-to-me. He’s gonna bucking hate seeing me like that so much! I’m gonna send him copies just to see if I can hear him cursing me from here.” “We both know that’s not who you’re talking about,” I grumbled, rolling my eyes. “Still, a job’s a job, I guess. Don’t think a single part-time job is gonna be enough to pull your weight. You wanna impress Dad? Do that.” “Oh, to be young and innocent~” Aunt Mercy chuckled. “A bit of lingerie is more than enough to turn most stallions’ heads—” She winked. “—both of them.” “Dad is different, and you know it.” I barely felt the heat creeping up my neck as I had to fight the urge to bare my fangs in a snarl; I growled, low and dangerous, hackles raised, wings flared. “Pfffft! I know that!” My aunt rolled her eyes with an impish grin. “Come on, what are you, twelve? You should be able to take a little joke.” The intensive eyebrow waggling was the only warning I got, and covering my ears did little to help me. “Besides, the only way your dad is gonna see anything is if your mom gives it a test run first.” I stumbled at the sudden image that flashed through my head at the thought of Mom and Aunt Mercy testing… things. My head spun; my stomach churned; my deliciously sinful lunch almost tried to climb its way back out my throat. “Ewwwwwwwwwww….” I gave a pitiful and squeaky whine, waving away the fainting couch Rarity had pulled from the aether for me. “I really didn’t need that image in my head.” “Ahem… I do beg your pardon, ladies, but is there something I’m missing here?” Rarity’s brow was arched higher than I’d ever seen on anypony before. “I… Ummm… We… Uhhhh…” This time I did accept the fainting couch, even if all I did was sit. “How to even explain?” I shivered and looked to Aunt Mercy with my ears splayed back; she rolled her eyes and waved me dismissively towards the door Red and Rolling had gone through like I was some sort of foal. “Geeze, you really are such a day dweller about some things. Go and check on your brothers, Night—” As if on cue, there was a crash and coltish shouting from somewhere else in the boutique. “—I’ll explain things here. Nightmother knows I’ve got enough practice at it.” I gulped some air and shook my head as I fought down my blush. “Eeeeeurgh… please do. I’m having a hard enough time processing it myself. Just…” I sighed, knowing it’d be of little help. “...try not to give the town the wrong idea? Once Miss Rarity learns, all of Ponyville is gonna know by moonrise.” There was a harrumph as I rose to move towards the door. “Well, I never!” “Don’t worry, kiddo.” Aunt Mercy’s grin was less than reassuring. “I know all the tricks in the book. Just go grab a juice box or something, and your old Aunt Mercy will take care of everything.” I sighed as I pushed into a room of utter chaos. “Sweet milk of Luna! This is going to get worse before it gets better, isn’t it?”