//------------------------------//
// Chapter 23: Endings Are Also Beginnings. 
// Story: Murder at the Rarity Boutique 
// by Coyote de La Mancha 
//------------------------------//

My dear Blueblood,
I hope that this missive finds you in good health and good cheer. Well, relatively good health, of course. I imagine there is a limit as to just how good one’s health can be after such tribulations. You will never know my relief when I heard that you would make a full recovery.
Yes, the evidence in my favour was rather scant before. But having the constabulary enter just after she struck you down, smoking murder weapon in hoof, was quite convincing. So was the confession they’d overheard as they were forcing the door, for that matter. All charges were dropped immediately, of course, and she is in the dungeon where she belongs. 
Just the same, I remember when they brought her in, even as I was being released. She was fighting the guards every step of the way, alternating between screaming and sobbing. And at the end, when the final door was closed behind her, I heard her whisper Filthy’s name.
Throughout my ordeal I had anticipated, if I ever met with the true murderer, feeling rage towards them, even hate. And mind you, I’m certainly not going to understate the harm she has caused, and I’m hardly in a position to extend the hoof of friendship towards her. But now my feelings are conflicted. Is it strange that, upon seeing her thus revealed, I find myself feeling pity for her instead?

	.
Blueblood’s mouth pursed into a thin line before continuing to read. No, he thought. It isn’t.

	.
As for your own ordeal… you will always have my gratitude, and certainly I am the very last mare to call another pony out for drama… but honestly, was there no option that involved less risk to yourself?
That being said, never forget gallantry, my dear friend! Had you not bowed as low as you did, I have no doubt but that she would have succeeded in piercing you through the heart with that alien weapon of hers, and not through the withers as she did.

	. 
Propped up by pillows in his bed, Blueblood smiled a little. Yes, it had been generally assumed that Spoiled Rich missing her shot had been a factor in his survival. But in reality, according to the physicians he’d spoken to, it had been the magical effect in which Sour Sweet had enveloped him that had saved his life. 
As she herself had said, the Crystal Heart was an amplifier - as well as a focus point and battery - for crystal magic. A magic of love, protection, and healing that was otherwise almost impossible to invoke deliberately. Outside ponies tended to assume that the Heart was the source of the empire’s special magic, as well. But in actuality, that power came from the hearts of crystal ponies. Blazing, raw, and unfocused as the sun itself. 
Small wonder, Blueblood mused, that even while hiding the magical artifact away so jealously, Sombra had worked so tirelessly to break the spirits of his subjects.
Of course, the more powerful the emotion behind it, the more powerful any magic could become, even without a focus. And the more powerful and tempestuous the heart, it seemed, the more powerful the emotions it could produce.
Not that he would ever point that out, of course. No matter how beautifully, or angrily, Sour Sweet blushed.
Still smiling, still thinking fondly of freckles, he read on.

	.
Your family (I nearly wrote ‘staff,’ even after knowing what I know now – ridiculous, isn’t it, how some habits die so terribly hard?) have been beside themselves, of course. But I’m sure by the time you receive this all should be well.
Sweetie Belle and Diamond Tiara say hello, by the way, and send their own thanks and get well soon wishes. Twilight and Spike send theirs as well. Twilight said to tell you that her restructuring of palace security was taking longer than expected, and according to Spike the palace guard has learned new worlds of respect for our royal friend.
Alas, Diamond Tiara is in a terrible way (and who wouldn’t be?). It seems so dreadfully unfair how the young must always pay the greatest price for our mistakes. Anyway, she’s staying with us for now, I’m not sure for how long. She doesn’t seem to have much extended family, and those who have stepped forward seem only interested in having influence over her inheritance, and… well. I’m sure you know the sort of ponies I mean.	

	.
Blueblood’s eyes narrowed as he read on, thinking back to his own foalhood. Yes, in fact, he knew exactly the kind of ponies she meant.	 

	.
So I do hope you can forgive my not being there to greet you when you awaken. I would like to be, but as you might imagine my hooves are very, very full. I’m not sure how well I can give the dear the kind of support she’s going to need, and being “aunt and niece” might make things a bit awkward between the girls (yes, they finally told me, and I feel quite silly for not having realized it myself!). 
My adopting her therefore seems an unlikely solution at the moment. Applejack and Twilight have offered, of course, and Apple Bloom is certainly in favour. But would such a life suit her? I don’t know. Still, I’m sure we’ll figure something out.

	.	 
Blueblood sat back against his pillows, considering this last bit of news. He’d never intended to have any children of his own. After all, the halls were already filled with gloriously rambunctious offspring that he could gleefully play with, wind up, stuff full of sugary confections, and then pass back to their proper parents. 
But under the circumstances…
Well. Considering the matter carefully, should the young lady wish it, why not? It could be a fine new adventure for them both. Granted, having her live at the palace might involve a certain amount of uprooting.
Or, then again, it might not. He smiled to himself. From what he recalled, folding a tesseract into a pre-existing fifth-dimensional whatever-it-was such as his chambers could be dicey. But, he felt certain that any or all of the princesses would be willing to lend a hoof with that under the circumstances. 
Then, he grinned. If she did move in, he could well guess where Diamond Tiara would want the other end of that particular portal to open. A door between the Blueblood chambers and the Carousel Boutique? Ha! Wait until the rumor mills got wind of that!
Alternatively, it might be that Miss Rarity was underestimating the allure that living in a library – or on a farm – might have for a young lady. Time would tell what young Miss Tiara would prefer. But the more options she had, no doubt the better her future would be.
Then, his brow furrowed slightly as he read on:

	.
Oh, and while you were out, so to speak, I was inspired. Your family will already have gotten their new ensembles, of course. But I put something rather special together for you. I know it’s a bit more daring than you would usually wear, but do try it on. You will be the very rage of Canterlot.
See you soon,
--Rarity.

	. 
Blueblood looked from the folded parchment he’d been reading to the box that Hepzibah and Akane were holding between them, each wearing an identical grin. His brow creased further into a suspicious frown. In his experience, such grins were not to be trusted. And, as he was still confined to bed by doctor’s orders, his avenues of escape were even more limited than usual.
“Come, come,” Hepzibah chided. “You ‘ave put this of long enough!”
“Yep, time ta put it on, instead,” Akane agreed as they put the box in his lap.
Sighing, Blueblood reached out and pulled off the box lid, removing the fine garments within.
The ladies oohed and aahed delightedly as he removed the silken shirt, the exquisite neck tie, the finely embroidered vest, the bejeweled coat with…
Wait. Were those…
Bells?
Prince Blueblood looked from one excited, bouncing mare to the other.
“Absolutely not,” he said.
“An’ just why not?” Hepzibah demanded. “You would look fabulous in zis!”
“That there’s a Rarity original,” Akane pointed out. “Made jus’ fer you. Y’really think she dunno what she’s doin’?”
“It’s not that,” he protested. “It’s just…”
“Miz Sour Sweet is waiting to see you in this, mon cher!”
“Y’ain’t gonna disappoint the lady, are ya?”
Blueblood looked again at the garments in his hoof. He sighed again and shook his head, a rueful smile already beginning to form.
He wasn’t going to win this one, either.