My precious diamond,
I am safe and well. Luna and I have been given comfortable quarters within Prince Rutherford’s ‘mansion’ as he names it, and what diplomacy that has occurred has gone well. The initial threat of war that was born from his ascendency to the throne has dissipated, and the burial for the late king has come and gone. If there are fears of conflict that remain in the palace, or in your own heart, let them be stayed.
The opening of her fiancé’s letter was as good as anything could be. Straight to the point, Rarity’s worst fears were quelled, and she had been given the status as to Celestia’s welfare. Knowing that her future bride was safe and comfortable was her primary concern, but knowing that there would be no great battle to delay their wedding was just as pleasant.
“But it just can’t be all good, can it?” She muttered. There was, unfortunately, more to the letter.
However, this brokered peace has brought about a diplomatic formality that must be attended to first. The late Rueben’s treaty with Equestria does not pass from father to son- meaning that Rutherford has no directive to maintain peace with his father’s allies. Seeing that he does wish to continue that peace, however, means that a new treaty must be forged and signed. An easy feat if it were any other nation, but Rutherford’s desire for absolute perfection means that progress is slow. A single sentence can take an entire day to be put to ink, and such a formal contract is- well, as you might guess, quite long.
I am so sorry, my darling. I would give everything to be with you rather than in this wintry place, but duties of the crown demand my place be here for a little longer. Luna and I are trying as best we can to speed up the process so I can return. The very moment my work here is done, know I shall be there by your side.
I yearn for you in every moment. To not have you in my arms is a loneliness that I did not know I would have to endure. I feel your absence by day, and dream of you by night. I wake and wish for your lips upon mine. To hear your voice will be to hear the songs of angels. I long for the moment when I call you my bride once and forever- and how deeply do I wish it came soon!
Stay strong and hold your head high, my love. This absence will not last forever. Until the day I hold you once more, may you be well without me.
All my love, Celestia
It had been her first missive the stellar princess had sent since her departure over a week ago. Rarity, kept heavily occupied by wedding planning, had been delighted to have a reprieve from the constant chaos that now surrounded her. The letter had been a blessing to receive, even if it had borne news both good and bad.
After all, it really was the only good news she’d had in about two weeks. Having Twilight’s help would have given some level of ease in regards to the wedding, but her favorite planner had her own royal duties to attend to, and acting as Princess-Regent had seen the brilliant woman so deeply occupied with matters that she was hardly available for even a cup of tea. So that meant almost every facet of the wedding was now at her feet, even with Rainbow offering what support she could to keep things on track. But there was still so much to do, and she was only one young woman; the wedding dresses had yet to be designed, the rings had been delayed by two weeks, the wedding décor needed to be crafted, Rainbow hadn’t gotten back to her about the bridal shower yet, and half of the guest list had yet to reply. And somehow, those were only the items she could immediately recall. But it was fine. Everything was fine, really; she was an adult, she could definitely handle this and not lose her temper. Because if heaven help her and she lost her temper on people who were only trying to help…
The morning had come and Rarity found she had awoken abruptly yet again. One moment she was in a fitful dreamworld, and then the next she was wide awake as though her mind were on edge. Considering just how much tossing and turning she’d done before finally falling asleep sometime late in the night, she didn’t feel rested. Part of her wasn’t even sure she’d actually slept.
The tea in her hands was more potent than her usual fare, a spot of cream liquor within to help buoy her morning; heaven knew she needed it. She’d only have a short time for personal preparations before making the trip to Canterlot, see if she’d be able to speak with Twilight today and go through more of the checklist. Try as she might, getting the seating chart together was a task she’d found herself ill-suited to complete. And hopefully the vendors would be in so she could start putting together gifts for the wedding party.
“And I still haven’t started working on those blasted dresses,” Rarity muttered. With no time like the present, the graceful seamstress took one last munch from her biscuit and moved her realm of operations to the sowing room. She wouldn’t have time to get started, but at least she could set all the fabrics and tools she’d need aside. The silk was definitely in here somewhere, of that she was certain. As to where, well- it had been a while since the last bridal order, if she were honest.
So thorough was Rarity in her search that the task absorbed her concentration to the fullest capacity; a knock came against the wall to startle her senses and make her realize there was now company in the form of an armored guard in her abode. “Oh, I’m sorry! I didn’t even notice you’d come in,” she said. Her voice was strained, a small part of her mind wishing they had declared themselves when they’d first stepped inside. Easy now. They were assigned here for your safety.
Ream smiled and gave a bow, his genial demeanor not noticing or perhaps ignoring the young woman’s tone. “Apologies if I scared you, my lady,” he said. “But your carriage has arrived. Yor is outside awaiting us.”
She needed to stay a bit longer; there was one particular lace she wanted to use for the bodice, but it had yet to make an appearance before her eyes. If she could only put a hand on it then perhaps she’d be more comfortable with departure. But Ream and Yor had been extremely decent to her during their time as her guard, always patient and never intrusive into her daily life; they’d been lovely through and through, a model pair of newlyweds as well. It would be rude to keep them waiting for any longer, especially when they'd been so consistently been keeping watch for so long.
“Yes, of course,” Rarity said, relenting from her search with a sigh. Somewhere in here, I swear. “I hope there wasn’t any mess waiting for you this morning?”
Ream’s grin grew, followed by a quick snort. “I believe your mailgirl was a little confused as to why she was suddenly delivering you a few boxes worth of letters this morning,” he replied.
So she was indeed still getting hate mail; the animal dung hadn’t made an appearance since Celestia had deem that the seamstress be put under protection, but whoever despised her must have found new methods to enact their annoyance. “A few boxes’ worth?” Rarity echoed, unsure of whether or not to be irritated or impressed by the dedication. “Goodness, you were careful, weren’t you? There have might been something truly horrid inside.”
To her horror, Ream only continued to take things in stride. “I didn’t open it near your house just in case, ma’am,” he replied. “And once we deduced it was nothing but anonymous mail, we had it destroyed.”
Ream was a young man; in love, well-trained, and serving alongside his bride, he thought himself invincible. “Please do be careful,” Rarity sighed. “Just in case? One of the packages I received before you arrived burst of its own accord.”
“As you wish, ma’am,” Ream said. “Shall we depart?”
“Yes, I suppose we must,” the fashionista sighed. “To Rainbow’s house first, if you please. A few of the girls were going to be making the trip with me today.”
A few minutes and the small band of ladies were well on their way, nestled in the rear car of the train bound for the royal mountains and enjoying the one small reprieve they would have for the day. Rarity had discreetly requested a small tray for the four of them and had found herself answered by a pot of crème brûlée with a plate of biscuits. A lovely snack, and a treat for her wearied mood. Perhaps if this little spot of kindness was a sign, then maybe there was a good day ahead of them.
“So, I didn’t get to mention this yesterday,” Rainbow said after a time, “but I’ve got bad news about the rehearsal dinner.”
Rarity’s good spirits, temporarily brought to life by her favorite tea, found itself only to be a bubble fit for bursting. “Oh dear.”
“That Manehatten caterer you really liked? I got a call from him yesterday morning. He’s going out of business.”
The elegant woman gave a puzzled look. “What happened? His establishment was lovely when we stopped in our last time in town.”
“All he told me was that it’s a long story. He’s sending back the deposit, but that means the rehearsal dinner’s back to step one again,” the prismatic woman said. “Sorry. I’ll- I’ll start looking for a replacement soon as I can, I can think of some in Canterlot that should be similar.”
More frustration. It would be so easy to be huffy about the whole thing, let a bad attitude fester and turn the whole day to rot. But it hadn’t been Rainbow’s fault that the vendor had decided to suddenly fold; why be angry at her when no blame lay at her feet? “I’m sure you’ll find something lovely,” Rarity said after a fashion. “And thank you for taking care of the dinner itself, that’s really… I’m grateful.”
“You’ve got a lot on your plate,” Rainbow shrugged. “Not like I can just let you plan this whole thing yourself.”
There were times the fashionista certainly felt like she was, but that was more stress and adversity speaking than anything rational thought or witnessed behavior. And there could be a few bright spots today, perhaps. “Applejack,” she said, turning to the seat where Fluttershy was cozily nestled next to the besotted farmgirl. “How is the cider coming along? You said you’d possibly have a few barrels ready to be bottled by the end of the month.”
At first, Applejack seemed to not have noticed her name spoken aloud; more concerned with whispering sweet nothing into her girlfriend’s ear, the sudden spotlight didn’t immediately take notice. “Huh? Oh, sorry-” She shifted herself about, focusing upon the questioning bride-to-be. “What were you saying, Rares?”
Patience, Rarity. “The cider barrels you’d mentioned last week,” Rarity repeated. “How are they coming along? I was hoping we might even be able to have some pouring for the wedding itself, if that was something you could manage.”
The reaction to that query was instantaneous, the freckled blonde turning pale and looking at everything but her friend. “Hehe- uh, yeah. So, about that…”
Oh come on.
The farmgirl gave a long sigh and steadied herself so as to answer. “We’ve had… some bad luck in the orchard lately,” she said. “Me and ‘Shy found a couple of rotted trees when we went out to take a look the other day, and it looks like our freshest batch of apples is no good. Infestation got into the orchard, we had to pull some of them down before it could keep spreading. We’ve got nothing ready to be picked until maybe next month.”
There were plenty of reasons to be horrified; the hopes of having Sweet Apple Acres make a statement at the wedding was likely a lost cause, and being part of gifts for the wedding party seemed like a longshot. In her more selfish days, that would have been all that would have held her attentions. “Goodness, darling, that’s awful!” Rarity cried. “All that time and effort, it must have cost- how ever did it happen?”
“Not a clue,” Applejack sighed. “But I think we’ve got it isolated, so we’ll just… see how things go from here. And soon as the next round is ripe, we’ll get them ready for ya. I promise.”
It was a promise for a time far from now, but it was better than nothing. “Much appreciated, darling. I do hope that it’s only a small setback for you.”
Applejack gave a halfhearted smile and said nothing, perhaps deeming that concern best suited for another day. The day they were in now would have enough trouble on its own.
And it was hardly a surprise when trouble began from the very moment they tried to get to work. It had been Rarity’s hope to begin with preparations in the gardens. More than just the concept of things, it would be good to have assigned areas for food and seating, places made ready for music and dancing. Vendors that had already signed on for the event needed to be considered and given a space for work, as well as the kitchens being provided proper room for preparation and cleanup. The garden itself was more or less ready for guests, but the seating chart for the reception needed some work; perhaps it would come to her a little more clearly if she saw the whole thing before her.
That very garden she had stepped foot in only a few days before was now a muddied, torn mess of earth and grass, soaked in refuse and the odor of foul waters that had come up from the depths and decimated the pristine world aboveground.
“What on earth happened?” Rarity asked, aghast at the sight of this resplendent place now reeking and ravaged. She had shared her first kiss with Celestia here, been proposed to here- how could such a wonderful hideaway have become something so wretched?
“A pipeline blew this morning,” Twilight said, having already been on sight to assess the damage. “The system in the castle’s outdated, so it might have just been age- or something else entirely, we don’t know yet. But at least it’s not still spraying, we only stopped the flow about an hour ago.”
It was a horrific stench that permeated the area, fetid liquid and human rot smearing the place a mishmash of unpleasant colors as though a child’s furious paintstrokes over a great masterpiece. Even Rainbow, often the hardiest of their group, struggled to maintain composure in the face of the misery. “Holy jeez, that is- that is unreal,” she muttered. “Do we need to be out here at all? Like, I’m not sure how much more of this I can breathe in.”
Rarity, mentally eager to wallow in her horror, would have been perfectly fine remaining at the scene of the accident and letting it consume her emotions rather than following her friends back into the cool –and scentless- halls of the palace. Her heart had already sunk far below the pipeline, what was some human refuse to a woman whose dream wedding seemed to be enduring a series of punches to the face?
“We’ve had to shut the water off across the entire castle,” Twilight said as the group of young women recomposed themselves. “I’ve got water being shipped in so there’s something potable that can be used for food and cleaning, but that’s about all we can manage. We won’t be able to turn it back on until they get the burst pipe replaced.”
“How soon do you think that’ll be?” Rainbow asked of her royal squeeze.
“Sometime tonight, I hope. They’re working fast, but it’s in an odd spot. They’ll have to do some digging if they want to extract the whole thing and bring a new one down.”
Fluttershy glanced over at her still-horrified companion, biting her lip before asking, “And… what will happen to the garden?”
Twilight knew the weight in that question and hesitated to answer. “That… I just don’t know,” she admitted. “It’s- it’s a mess, I know. And some of the garden was definitely poisoned by the waste, so it’ll have to be dug up and replaced. The terrain is a mess, too, so the porch and paths out there- yeah. It could be a while.”
Each woman tended to their own thoughts for a moment before turning to the bride-to-be that stood silent in their midst, the most heavily affected by the events that had transpired. Rarity was not a harsh person by any means; perhaps vain, but always intent on exhibiting model behavior no matter the circumstances. However, when faced with real stress, she had been known to crumple. So now they looked to her, waiting to see if the bubble would finally burst after the constant ill tidings that had plagued her morning.
Rarity remained silent, though finding herself quivering. Just how much more was going to go wrong today? What else wasn’t going to go her way? Would the décor examples not be any good, if they showed up at all? Would any vendor agree to work the wedding? How many more guests would still be silent? Now with the garden a wreck, a backup location for the reception needed to be taken into account- they still didn’t have any idea for seating for it, too. And most infuriating of all, she still didn’t have those blasted wedding dresses made yet! Nothing had gone right today from the very moment she’d gotten up and she was sick to death of it! It would be absolutely, positively wonderful if she could just fill her lungs with air and begin a tirade.
Instead, the elegant woman forced herself to take a slow, intentional breath, her eyes bouncing about the room and settling on each of her friends in turn. None of this was their fault, not in the slightest. They’d all agreed to come help, all been willing to do what they could to alleviate her stress. Nothing that had gone wrong was on purpose; even with all the bad that had happened, there was still plenty of work that could be done. Rainbow had been hinting at what she wanted to do for the bachelorette party, so that was something to discuss. The day had been horribly frustrating, yes- but she would not lash out against her dearest companions.
“OK, then,” Rarity said slowly, a low voice holding back her baser instincts and allowing tranquility to take hold instead. “Let’s… Twilight, dear, is there a place that could be used as an alternate location for the reception, just in case?”
“I mean… there’s the throne room, but that’d be tight- and Day Court’s still running,” Twilight mused. “The dance hall maybe? It’ll be a tight squeeze, but you can see what you think.”
“You’re not coming with us?” Rainbow asked.
“Like I said, Day Court’s still going. I just had to halt proceedings for a bit so I could deal with that stupid busted pipe. Odds are I won’t be done until way late.” A wry smile came, the wearied princess clearly apologetic. “Sorry. It wasn’t on purpose.”
“I know it wasn’t, darling, no need to feel bad,” Rarity said. “We’ll just… see what we can do. There’s still plenty of day ahead.”
Her words rang true, the long hours of the miserable day slow to end their continued march. Stress mounted, hours ticked by, and closer did that awaited day come with seemingly every moment. There was still so much she needed to do.
Had she ever experienced a migraine before? Rarity found herself wondering, for the pulsing in her brain had begun almost the moment she’d awoken and had yet to relent, more painful than any mental throbbing she’d ever felt before in her life. Too tired to make the journey back home with her friends, Rarity had opted to spend the night in Celestia’s chambers, tired body sore and sticky from a day without a bath. Awaking and still feeling the prior day’s sweat was not something she’d ever enjoyed and the sensation had only added to the day’s frustrations. There would be no work on neither of the wedding dresses, Twilight was occupied with matters of court so she would be working alone, and now –out of all the confounded things- she was having to ask the royal beautician for a reason why she wouldn’t be able to work at the wedding.
I didn’t even know she could say no.
“I’m not going to force you to comply against your will,” Rarity said; her voice was professionally cool, deliberate measure to help combat the frustration. “But may I ask why you won’t be able to provide your services? Celestia speaks so highly of you.”
The beautician was a rather pudgy woman who clearly possessed impressive skills with makeup. Whatever flaws she possessed on her overweight form had been well concealed by a smartly applied layer, helping thin the lines that came from the extra cushioning. Was Rarity wrong to think there was some haughtiness in her expression, a coldness in her eyes that the unease could no wash away? She was at least being polite. “I must apologize, miss,” she said, “but I simply will not be able to provide my services for you.”
The royal beautician certainly didn’t appear comfortable; Rarity hadn’t realized she’d put the heavyset woman into something of a corner and provided some distance so perhaps she would relax. But then again, there was the rest of the staff present and they were definitely listening in. She hadn’t meant for this to become a confrontation, but the morning felt like it was already out of her control.
Rarity tried a different tack. “I hope you’re not feeling doubtful about your talents,” she said, smiling graciously. “I’m sure you’d do a wonderful job! I’ve seen your work upon dear Celestia’s visage more than once.”
“I simply cannot, miss. It is a personal matter as to why,” the pudgy woman replied, shutting down any hopes of cajoling with her flat tone. “I apologize for my abruptness, but my staff and I have other works we must attend to.”
So she was being dismissed. Not certain as to the exact reasons why she was being denied any help but still possessing suspicions, Rarity gave a small smile and nodded, bidding farewell to the young ladies about her and departing the spacious room. Another failure, another setback, and now she’d have to look elsewhere for someone to take care of hair and makeup. “I guess nothing goes right so long as Cellie’s not around,” the seamstress sighed.
She lay against the wall of the hallway, running fingers through her hair as the mounting workload of incomplete tasks filtered down before her eyes. There was so much to do that absolutely needed to be done; the wedding wasn’t far away anymore, a fact that would only add to the pressure. If these ill tidings didn’t cease soon, she wasn’t sure that she’d be able to make the deadline- and that was if Celestia was able to be back in time! Surely it couldn’t be like this all the time, right? At least she hadn’t lost her cool yet, so there was at least the moral victory still available to her. That had to count for something.
“Excuse me… Lady Rarity?” The refined voice rang familiar in her ears, anxious mind alerted to the presence of another that she might actually know. Opening her eyes and broken from her unhappy tirade, Rarity looked up to see the formal, though friendly, form of Fancypants standing there beside her with a look of disquiet on his face.
“Fancypants!” Though still in a miserable mood, Rarity’s tone was genial as she greeted her friend. Fancypants was an unusually down-to-earth member of high society, his title as one of the Common Nobles never too heavy to crush his good nature. Having been one of Rarity and Celestia’s biggest supporters from the early days of their announced relationship, he and his on-and-off-again girlfriend Fleur were delightful company. “I’m sorry, I must have lost track of time. It’s lovely to see you.”
The smile that came in return was a half-hearted one, the man’s considerate nature clashing with his current discomfort. “I wish I was here on better tidings,” he began slowly, “but I unfortunately must be the bearer of ill news.”
Rarity went rigid at the pronouncement, face stony as she regarded her companion. “And that means what, exactly?” she inquired. No ice or fire in her voice, not yet…
Fancypants took a long exhale, teeth gritted as he regarded the beautiful woman before him. “As you know, all announcements from Parliament are delivered by the highest-ranking member of the House of Commons,” he said. “Even if such pronouncements come from the House of Lords.”
The ancient houses, old bloodlines that had maintained connections to the royal families of both past and present, titles given by birthright rather than elected to the position. Not a group of people she’d seen much of, but they had occasionally been mentioned by Celestia before- and not altogether warmly. The only two Rarity had ever really known were Cadance and Blueblood, the contrast between them greater than the breadth of a canyon. “And you have… a message for me?”
“I do not bear this willingly,” Fancypants said. “I am truly sorry, Rarity. I am not sure what possessed them to take such a course of action…”
Pushing a gilded envelope into her hands, Rarity found her head pulsing as she extracted the contents. This wasn’t a coincidental thing; someone had waited until Celestia was out of town, not present and there to defend her. And just what was it that they had decided to say?
To all those whom it may concern, hear ye these tidings:
In accordance with Article XIV of the “Welfare of the Crown Act,” Signed into law the year MCCCLV, the House of Lords has deemed it necessary to intervene in the upcoming marriage of Celestia, High Princess of Equestria, Keeper of the Sun, and Head of the Stellar House. This action is due to potential conflict of interest regarding the suitor of Princess Celestia, Rarity of Ponyville, who has exhibited prior behavior of extreme interest in societal advancement through ulterior use of the Royal Family. On behalf of Equestria’s Princess, the House of Lords deems this current engagement between both parties to be suspended until further notice.
~ Lord Blueblood, Prince of the Verdant House, Chief Representative of the House of Lords
Rarity continued to stare at the artfully written words, waiting for the moment they would actually sink in. This wasn’t real, was it? It couldn’t be, not at all; this was a sick joke, some prank of some kind. But then there was the wax seal below, imprinted with the Lord’s Sigil. It might actually be real. Which would mean everything she’d been working towards for the past month was useless, as well as the years she and Celestia had spent together to bring about the culminating union in permanence. And all because of one overzealous popinjay who’d decided to sink to a new level of petty.
Engagement suspended. An entire house of Parliament had decided that her engagement to the most wonderful woman in the world was null and void. And somehow, for whatever reason she couldn’t even fathom, Blueblood had convinced them to deem her as the one who had spurred them to action. It was almost too much to take in. But then again…
“Well who the hell gave him the right?!” Rarity shrieked, her voice reaching an octave powerful enough to shatter glass. Forget decorum, this was her life that they’d decided to interfere in! She hadn’t been the one who’d initiated in the first place, much less been the one who’d proposed. How on earth had a bunch of crotchety bunch of rich politicians come to think that she was up to something? “What a bunch of needless, tasteless, useless pile of garbage I wouldn’t bother to wipe- to-” She couldn’t remember a time she’d ever been so angry in all her life. This was the willful, intentional shattering of her dreams. How could this happen?
Fancypants had taken a step back to avoid the initial blast but retained his decorum all the same. “The measure taken by the House of Lords was objected to by the Commons, but our word was overridden. The Lords have overriding vote in regards to matters of the state rather than matters of the people. I wish there was more I could do.”
Rarity tried to find something to do. Was screaming better, or would it be more appealing to just burst into tears? A mixture of both sounded wonderful at the moment. “Whe- who- are those… are they still present?” she asked in a voice positively dripping with venom. She could feel the heat within, flames in the back of her mind threatening to set the world afire.
“I do believe they are, as this missive was delivered to me only a few minutes ago by one of their Pages,” Fancypants replied. “I am sure a conversation with the one responsible for the measure would be most illuminating for you.”
“Oh, I am sure of it,” she breathed. She’d done her best to avoid that stuck-up blowhard for the past three years; every gala, every dance, every single event that had ever seen her at Celestia’s side- not once had she even wanted to look in his general direction. It wasn’t like he’d ever said anything to her in that entire time. But oh, that just hadn’t been good enough, had it? Now apparently was the time to make a statement. So if that slithering thing thought she’d simply wilt, he had another thing coming!
Rarely, if ever, had Rarity hiked up the hem of a dress. The most unladylike action was something she’d always seen as beneath her, but her pace was too quick to avoid such a thing now lest she catch the fabric beneath her shoes. Practically running towards the Parliament Wing, the enraged fashionista found herself quietly wondering just what it was she intended to do. It wasn’t like she could tell them to do much of anything, even Celestia had some limitations when it came to overriding their will. Just what did she plan on doing to make them change their mind? Oh, Cellie, I wish you were here- more than ever!
There was a glimmer of lavender and gold out of the corner of her eye and Rarity turned to see Twilight on her way from another hallway, quite literally racing down the hallway and bearing an expression so violent that it was difficult to tell which of them was the more furious. “Twilight! Do you know-”
“They only just told me about two minutes ago. Let it slip out like it wasn’t important!” Twilight snapped. “Rarity, I am so sorry, this is- they’re abusing a law for their own ends, that ruling they cited wasn’t meant for something like this. I can’t believe they’d even dare try!”
“I know full well why they would and so do you,” Rarity said. “Blueblood, that vile little-”
“We’ll deal with him. All of them,” Twilight assured her. “Just follow my lead and don’t let them goad you. They need some kind of proof against you to convince anyone that they’re right, but they won’t get it. You’re better than them, and don’t you forget that!”
Heart pounding and mind ablaze, Rarity followed her royal companion down the hall to a pair of burgundy doors gilded with gold, guarded by a trio of well-armed guards who appeared discomforted by this rushing movement from such a powerful princess.
“Princess Twilight!” The officer on duty sprang to a salute and his compatriots followed. “Apologies, Your Highness, I was not informed that you would be making an appearance today.”
“I doubt I was expected,” Twilight replied, voice cool yet more polite than her fiery demeanor suggested. “Lieutenant Whinny, am I right?”
“At your service, Your Highness!”
“Is the entire House still assembled?”
“None have yet left for afternoon recess, Your Highness,” Whinny reported.
“Good. I and Lady Rarity are to enter, no one is to be allowed entry once I am inside unless it is the gravest of emergencies. Is that understood?”
“Of course, Your Highness!”
“Thank you much. Rarity, shall we?” Pushing the golden doors open, the illustrious young royal strode through the threshold and into the proverbial lion’s den and promptly commanded all attentions; what voices that had rung through the air were cut silent by her appearance, the relaxed and almost confident atmosphere went cold. The sprawling room of a hundred nobles fell to attention and cried out in a quavering voice to herald her arrival, eyes upon the powerful woman that now stood in their midst. Celestia they knew, the regal diplomat of days gone by; patient and gentle even against opposition. But Twilight’s legend was borne of battle and conflict, made real by the unparalleled magic held within her sleek form. This woman was an unknown to them, and perhaps a wild card.
The woman behind her, however, they knew all too well. When the nobility had finished taking in their royal guest, eyes flitted over to the furious young woman who also stood in their midst. Rarity could feel their gaze burning against her more fiercely than the sun’s rays, the judgment held against her still firm. They had little love for one such as her, a hungry seeker of status and glory at the expense of others; they knew her kind and had seen it before more times than any of them could count. This one, they had decided, was not worthy of their attentions.
She kept her head held high and met each stare with her own fire. Oh, how wrong they are.
“Ladies and gentlemen of the House of Lords,” Twilight said, voice booming across the spacious hall and sending a shudder through the uneasy host, “it has been brought to my attention that an emergency measure has been brought into action on behalf of High Princess Celestia. As acting Princess-Regent, it is my desire to understand the meaning behind such a drastic measure.”
At first, the room remained silent. The throng of nobles seemed unwilling to rise to the occasion and meet the Princess’ words, preferring to look elsewhere rather than the eagerly awaiting royal. For Twilight, this sudden hesitancy did no favors to her already foul humor.
“I was delivered a missive bearing this House’s seal only a spare few minutes ago, one stating that you had invoked the ‘Welfare of the Crown Act’ on behalf of Princess Celestia. Am I to believe that this is not the case?” Twilight asked. “Or has your security been compromised for the sake of some malicious prank?”
Further silence, only to be interrupted by a scraping of wood across floorboard as one of their member took to his feet and began to make his way through the crowd to the floor below. Rarity’s eyes narrowed at the sight of Blueblood, despising every single thing about his appearance. Chiseled face, thick locks of hair perfectly combed, a stunning suit with a tie that matched his eyes, and a winning smile- a glorious sight that so eloquently contradicted the awfulness within. Just the sight of him made it so easy for her to believe that he’d convinced them to take action; someone who looked that good could easily persuade any fool of a politician.
“Prince Blueblood,” Twilight announced as the man took a place before her. “It was by your name that this measure was taken, was it not?”
“It is, Your Highness,” Blueblood said, his smile not faltering even in the face of Twilight’s nigh-concealed wrath.
“Then I would be delighted to know your reasoning behind such a thing,” Twilight replied. “Although Celestia cannot speak for herself on this matter due to emergency circumstances, I know her attitude regarding such things well enough to speak on her behalf- as well as Lady Rarity, who I have known as a friend for several years.”
It was her inclination to pipe up and say she could speak for herself well enough, thanks- but a small wave of Twilight’s hand caught her eye and Rarity took note of her suddenly taut expression. The unspoken advice was clear: Don’t take their bait. Twilight wanted her to maintain composure and remain silent lest she fall right into Blueblood’s hands.
“It is because of such friendships that I am compelled to take such desperate measures,” Blueblood said, giving a sigh as though burdened by the task. “Your Highness, you are an astute woman, a mind filled with the greatest learning the kingdom could possibly offer to anyone. A storied relationship with anyone can make a person blind to both fault and merit alike. You say you are this woman’s friend- that is wonderful! However, your affections have likely given you a stilted view of a person due to their kindness towards you. They have, by no fault of your own, deceived you.”
“I have been deceived,” Twilight repeated, her voice so intentionally even that it couldn’t have possibly been measured. “And I assume you are suggesting that Princess Celestia has fallen for the same sort of deception.”
“It is our concern, Your Highness,” Blueblood stated. “This woman maintains good standing with you, just as you have with Princess Celestia for many years. By default, she will trust your companions just as quickly as she would her own. Thus allowing this cosmopolitan to find a new potential entry into the world of the elite via the ranks of royal nobility.”
“You believe Rarity is using Celestia as well as myself for her own personal advancement, then,” Twilight surmised.
“It is a reasonable fear, Your Highness. Many have tried before, as history can testify- you yourself know more such anecdotes than I could hope to recall,” Blueblood replied, seemingly delighted to see how quickly Twilight was following his argument. “The ranks of this very House have been defiled by the actions of such lesser people-”
Lesser people?!
“- And once-noble houses were brought to disrepute. Though the character of some could be called into question, many of these Lords sought exactly what so many of us in this world do: love. They wished to be loved, but instead were used for fame and fortune and societal position, the actions of others bringing them to their downfall. But never –ever- before has one ever dared to reach so high as for the highest crown itself- until Rarity.”
“Until Rarity,” Twilight echoed, “A woman who has aided me in countless struggles both minute and magnificent. She requires the rank of others to advance her name.”
“Would it not benefit her to be tied to the crown? Her connections to you have brought about fame she would not have otherwise,” Blueblood explained. “She is famous because you are famous, not because of her own deeds. A deepened connection to the Princesses would only increase such fame and fortune.”
“And so that is why you invoke the ‘Welfare Act,’ I assume? On behalf of Princess Celestia to help prevent eventual scandal?”
“That is our decision,” Blueblood said with a nod.
“Then your basic understanding of the ‘Welfare Act’ is incorrect from the beginning,” Twilight replied. “The year of its signing saw an uprising in Manehattan that had been brought about by a powerful sorcerer who had controlled a large population of the city via magic. It was fears of someone mentally controlling the Stellar House that saw the law enacted. It was only to be invoked if the ruling princess was displaying aberrant behavior that was a potential threat to the country, not as a means of disrupting a wedding.”
The matter-of-fact manner in which Twilight spoke temporarily disarmed the boorish man, eyes held wide as he realized his blunder in thinking his knowledge of history would somehow outsmart Twilight’s. He gave himself a quick shiver, trying to regain composure. “Would you not agree that your ‘friend’ has been one who consistently seeks fame and status?” Blueblood countered. “I do believe you know well her earlier efforts to solidify her place within the royal houses.”
“You mean the Gala years back where your behavior resulted in Princess Celestia personally delivering an apology to Lady Rarity?” Twilight asked lightly. “If this is the incident to which you refer, I must wonder if you realize your actions spurred the initial meeting that would spark Princess Celestia and Lady Rarity’s romance to life.”
Blueblood blanched; this affair was backfiring on him with a horrid swiftness, and his small mind began to realize that he might have been baited into a trap. “I am not-”
“I hope this is not an act of jealousy that I am witnessing here, Blueblood,” Twilight remarked with a smile. “Many people have remarked upon Lady Rarity’s incredible beauty- and how it is outshone only by her gracious nature. Do you find yourself ashamed that you missed your shot?”
Blueblood’s expression could have curdled milk, the displeasure and rage only heightened by the sound of muffled laughter that now trickled through the crowd. Not only was he losing the argument, he was being made a fool of in front of his peers- and Twilight was hardly lifting a finger to make it happen!
“I am not the one who is being held on trial here!” He snapped, the boiling anger within beginning to spill over. “It is of the upmost importance that the integrity of the Royal Line be upheld, protected by undesirable attention-seekers that would besmirch its good name. Our duty is to preserve that good name, as you well know. And until Princess Celestia returns and provides an overwhelmingly convincing testimony on her behalf, this House cannot and will not overrule itself on this matter!”
Rarity had been enjoying the whole affair thoroughly; nervous and angry from the start, yes, but watching Blueblood squirm was the best entertainment she’d had in years. All that fun, however, came to a crashing halt with the force of a train wreck at this latest pronouncement. Her eyes darted to Twilight for confirmation and found a sour disposition upon her features; could she not overrule this herself, or was this really the procedure? Had all of this been for nothing?
Her gaze turned to Blueblood and saw the sneering satisfaction upon his foppish face and realized he’d actually won. Until Celestia returned, nothing about today could be reversed at all.
The illustrious royal took a breath. “How do you defend-”
Absolute, utter fury. “This isn’t fair!” She cried-
Twilight whipped about and tried to wave down her words, but it was already too late; Blueblood’s sneer only grew as he caught sight of Rarity marching towards him, leaving the safety of behind the podium and making her way onto the House floor.
“Ah, and here she is, breaking decorum and proceeding for her own sake yet again!” Blueblood declared. “Even though she has not been announced her privilege for speech still she comes marching to defend her prize. Tell me, Rarity, are you angry that you have been found out yet again?”
“Quiet! I am not talking to you for one moment longer, you utter cad! Listen to me all of you, please!” Rarity turned to the crowd before her, trying her best to ignore the vain beast alongside her and the strange prickling of her senses that spoke to something familiar. “I don’t care about title, or- or anything of the kind! I do not wish for any rank of any sort, I just wish to be Celestia’s bride- it’s all I’ve dreamed of for years now! Please, don’t take this from me because of someone’s petty vengeance!”
“Guards! Remove this woman! She is a disruption to proceedings!” Blueblood called.
“Stay where you are, she has right to represent herself in this matter that directly involves her welfare!” Twilight countered before adding in a more quiet voice, “Rarity, for heaven’s sake stop-”
“She’s given me everything I could ever dream of having, and not a drop of it is because of the crown she wears. She makes me happy!” Rarity pleaded. If even just one of them changed their minds, perhaps she could win this day after all. “Celestia makes me feel alive and loved, every time I see the sun rise and fall I see her there also!”
“When you failed to woo me, was this your means of revenge?” Blueblood taunted. “Or were you always going to work your way up the ladder? Was I just a stepping stone for you?”
Rarity’s instincts told her something was amiss, and it was about Blueblood. But still she tried to win over the crowd, crying out, “I never, ever knew I could love someone this deeply, these past weeks have been agony without her! If I have to give up every penny I have to be her bride, I’ll do it! She’s all I could ever want any longer! I am begging you, do not do this!”
“Was it always about the money, or was it more about making a name for yourself?” Blueblood asked. “Must be very easy to sell a whole lot of your fashion line when you’ve been the Princess’ concubine for three years.” There was a hushed gasp at the remark. Was Blueblood remarking about Celestia’s character at this point, or Rarity’s still? It was an unprecedented statement to their ears.
Rarity could ignore the boorish man’s chiding for no longer. “Oh be quiet! You were a brute to all of my friends the entire night, an absolute philistine who squealed like a child because you were beset by bunnies- and you used me as a shield! You unbelievable, absolute, little- little…” Her senses were screaming at her now, trying to get one moment of attention to reveal the minute detail that had gone unnoticed until she had been at his side yet again. A strange aroma in her nostrils of cologne; not an unpleasant one, but the scent made her skin crawl. After all, hadn’t she scented it alongside something else, now that she thought about it? It had paired so wonderfully with the reek of animal dung.
The beautiful woman knew she had gone pale. “You’ve been sending me all that hate mail,” she breathed.
Blueblood ignored her quiet words, focusing more heavily on her earlier statement. “And so she admits to it at last! Hoping to pair herself to my name for her advantage, having always desired to join the ranks of the elite through a false marriage to a noble!” He boomed. “How convincing is the evidence when it’s proclaimed by the perpetrator itself.”
“You! You complete and total trash heap of a human being, you’ve been sending me those boxes of crap, haven’t you?” Rarity shrieked. “And all that hate mail, every single stinking bit of it! Ream and Yor haven’t seen home in days thanks to you because they’ve been worried someone was trying to bomb my house! You complete and utter-”
“Prove it, then!” Blueblood roared, smile wide as he reveled in his triumph. “Please, provide the evidence! Make your words irrefutable for this House to consider- alongside your actions of your very first Gala, I would so love to see you prove me wrong. Because I think we both know the truth, don’t we? Just what was it you were hoping for when you threw yourself into my arms, wrapped yourself about my arm? Or are we to believe that I just so happened to be someone in the crowd that day?”
Despite her fury, despite all her incredible anger, Rarity knew she’d likely made the worst mistake she’d ever made in her life. Baited, hooked, and reeled in to be devoured by the fisherman, she had fallen into this idiot’s trap perfectly despite Twilight’s continued insistence she keep silent. It could have gone so smoothly, Blueblood continuing to incriminate himself and display his buffoonery without she having to even lift a finger. Instead, where was she now? The proverbial corner- and no one had put her there but herself.
“I believe we’re still waiting,” Blueblood remarked.
She could feel the stinging in her eyes, gaze beginning to cloud with tears even as her fury continued to writhe in her chest. With little else at her disposal, Rarity raised her hand and swung, delivering a staggering blow against Blueblood’s perfect little cheek with a beautifully sonorous Pow!
“Auugh! Sonuvabitch!” Blueblood cried, losing his footing and nearly sent sprawling by the beautiful woman’s unexpected strike. “You little slut-!”
“Oh shut up for once in your life, you jealous little cow!” Rarity snarled, turning her back on the stunned crowd before anyone could stop her. Through the doors and down the hall, ignoring the questioning guards that called behind her. Her vision was blurring all the more with each new step- she’d never screwed up something so badly in her life! She was going to lose her engagement to Celestia and it was all her fault. She needed to get away from this place right now- before she really lost her composure.
In her wake, the House of Lords had yet to recover from the stunning proceedings. Twilight found herself now alone in the midst of these pretentious people, wondering if zapping Blueblood into ash was a consolation prize for everything going wrong. Rarity, darn you, I HAD him! If you’d just waited two seconds-
“Well,” Blueblood said slowly, fair features now red and being crafted into a welt by the blow, “I guess we must now consider prosecution as our next measure. All in-”
“She’s a romantic, not an attention-seeker,” Twilight remarked suddenly. “Rarity loves fairytales; you know, happily ever after? She was hoping it’d be with you. It’s not her fault you’re the most horrid person in the country and nearly ruined romance for her forever.”
Blueblood’s marked face grew foul once more. “Excuse me?”
“Celestia basically rescued her dreams,” she said. “And you absolutely squealed like a little girl because of some rabbits and we all know it. We were all there, Blueblood. You being a trash heap isn’t news. How many times have you been caught at brothels, for heaven's sake?”
Perhaps he felt insulted. Maybe he was slighted, or feeling cocky. But Blueblood’s expression grew wrathful and he snarled, “Oh shuttup, you little nerd. Not like you’re even a real princess, why are you here? You can’t prove any of it.”
Above them came the rumble of thunder; frightened eyes looked skyward and saw the makings of a stormcloud just on the edge of the ceiling, the darkened fabric billowing with growing wrath. When the cold, clear sound of the lock snapping shut met their ears, Blueblood realized he had perhaps gone a little too far. All around him and throughout the crowd, dozens of newspapers suddenly found their form and fell to their feet, his face shining clearly amongst the dull black and white of ink and paper.
“Well, then,” Twilight said, standing at fullest height and looking out into the crowd. “It seems we are going to have a little light reading on the history of Prince Blueblood, the only man to ever cause Princess Celestia to apologize on his behalf. Shall we start with his teenage years?”