“Ugh.” The secretary pulled down her magazine, peering over it with glaring green eyes. “Look, all you have to do is pick up the receiver and tell the operator the number.”
Luna blushed. “Ah, okay. That doesn’t seem terribly difficult.” She paused, hoof hovering over the hoofset. “Er, pray tell, attendant, what, er, ‘number’ do you speak of? I’m not sure I can remember the address offhoof.”
She rolled her eyes, punctuating with a well rehearsed “huff.” “Just tell the operator who you want to talk too and where they live. It’s not that fuh-riggin hard, m’kay?’ She stood up with a start, folding her magazine into a roll and sticking it into a satchel bag. “I’m on break anyway, and it’s not my job to teach the Luddite princess how not to hurt herself with my telephone when your sister isn’t paying me.” She broke into a prim trot. “Don’t follow.”
Luna looked back at the phone on the wall, then, with some trepidation, removed the earpiece and flipped the switch-hook. The phone crackled to life, first producing nothing but fuzz, then, after a soft “click,” the businesslike tones of a mare.
“Canterlot Operator, to whom may I connect you?”
Luna stared at the receiver.
After a short pause, the operator repeated herself. “Canterlot Operator, please state your intended recipient.”
Luna continued to sit in silence, still unsure as to what, exactly, constituted the correct etiquette. Was the operator a “thou,” for example? Or a “you?”
“Canterlot Operator, please respond or I will close this line to conserve circuits.”
Luna was finally spurred to action.“Wait! We, er, are present, yes.”
“Canterlot Operator, thank you for responding. Please state the interchange and number you are attempting to reach.”
“Interchange?” Luna furrowed her brow. “We are afraid we do not understand. Would an, er, street address be sufficient?”
“No, it–” the operator audibly sighed, pulling back from the hoofset and muttering almost, but not quite, out of earshot. “Another geezer, great.” She moved the receiver back to her mouth. “No, a street address is not sufficient. If necessary, I can assist you in finding an exchange and subscriber, although please note that any services utilized will incur a fee.”
“Oh.” Luna thought for a second. “Billed to whom, exactly?”
“Based on your currently utilized telephone, your billing will go to – Oh! This is a palace line. In that case, billing would go to the Offices of the Crown directly. Lucky you.”
“We see.” That meant Luna wasn’t paying. “In that case, would you mind looking for a, ah, Rarity in Ponyville?"
“Certainly. I would normally ask if this was a collect call for the long-distance charges, but I assume that money is not an issue, considering you are operating off the princess’s dime. I’ll patch you through to the Ponyville exchange. One moment please.”
The line went dead with another fizz, then, after a few seconds, popped back into life.
“Ponyville Exchange, where may ah direct your call?” It was a stallion this time.
“Ah, we would like to speak to a, er, mistress Rarity. We believe the particular locale is–”
The operator chuckled. “Naw, I don’t need that. I’ll ring her and patch you though once she picks up.” A faint “click” emanated from the telephone, a button having been punched to alert the called party. “Gee, you sure do have a funny manner of speakin’ ma’am. You some kind of royalty?’
Luna decided to play it safe. “Simply, er, foreign.”
The operator was silent for a moment. “Yeah, ‘spose that makes sense. You a griffon or – oh, she’s picked up, I’ll tell her who’s calling.” He pulled the microphone away, speaking into the other side of the line. “Hello? Miss Rarity? This is the operator speaking, you have – oh, I’m fine, thank you for asking, mighty kind – anyway, there’s a foreign lady on the phone from a Canterlot exchange I don’t recognize. Want me to patch you through?” A pause. “Right, I’ll put her through.”
The line once again went dead, this time coming back to life with a rustling of air.
“Ah–”
The long-sought mare’s voiced pierced through the speaker. “Look, we don’t know how you got this number, nor any sort of idea about how I could be involved with any sort of incident with foreign nationals, but I will decidedly not be answering any questions. You can direct any further action to my lawyer, one mister–”
Luna chuckled. “Lady Rarity! Worry not, it is merely your, er, favorite princess.”
The mare on the line squealed in pleasure. “Oh! Oh! Cadence, darling, how are you? Did you get my package I sent off? I know mail out the frozen wastes can be dreadfully slow, but I am simply antsy with anticipation. That scarf is real alpaca, you know. It was quite the ordeal to convince them to give up that much wool.”
Luna frowned. “Er, no, your, ah, second favorite princess, then.”
“Oh.” Rarity sniffed. “Right. Of course. My apologies, Luna, I hope you didn’t cause you any offense.”
“Fear not, we don’t find your, er, assumption contemptuous in the slightest.” She really didn’t: second place out of four was eminently respectable.
“That’s a relief. And, might I add, I do apologize for vomiting out your hooves. I’m sure you understand it wasn’t anything personal, just, er, a product of rather unfortunate timing.”
“It was understandable. We must offer our own thanks to you in return for not, ah, shooting us by mistake, as well as a congratulations for your exemplary marksmareship.”
Rarity giggled. “Oh, you flatter me, Luna. Please don’t mention it.” A pause. “Er, that was a rather more serious request. The operators do listen in on these lines on occasion, and so far the, ah, “warden” and I have avoided any sort of legal scrutiny, and I would prefer to keep it that way.”
“Of course. Our mistake,” Luna blushed.
“Right, right, well, anyway, to what do I owe the pleasure of this call?”
“Well, we presume the, er–” Luna coughed “–business with the youngest princess is settled, no?”
“More or less.” A sigh came through the phone. “She didn’t have much in the way of cash, as it turns out, but we, er, managed. Something of a long story, really. Fluttershy could explain it better than I could.” The mare at the other end of the line turned away from the receiver. “Fluttershy, darling, would you mind telling – ah, never mind.” She turned back to the phone. “You’ll have to excuse her for a moment, she’s a little emotional right now, something of an, er, messy sobbing wreck, really.”
“Oh! Please do not bother her, then. It is only natural that such a kind soul as hers would have difficulty coming terms with some of the more, er, grisly events of the past few days.”
“What? Oh, no,” Rarity scoffed. “She’s more or less over that, all things considered. It’s more that we raided Twilight’s cellars and, ah, liberated an entire wheel of Blue Stilton and all of her wine, which, in turn, is the first time Fluttershy’s had cheese in three years.” A pause. “Sorry, four years, she’s saying. It really is an exemplary wheel, though; who would have thought Twilight would have such a fine taste for cheese and wines?”
“We see.” Luna scratched the back of her head. When was the last time she had any cheese, either? “Regardless, I wanted to see if your accounts had been settled with Twilight as I would, er, quite like to see a film in the local cinema, and–”
Rarity coughed politely. “Right, Luna, I really do hate to cut you off so suddenly, and, really, I’m honored that you would fancy somepony like me, but I’m afraid that the, er, castle gates do not quite swing that way.”
“Oh.” Luna furrowed her brow. “What? We’re not entirely confident we understand what this has to do with courtship. Or, er, castles.”
Rarity scoffed. “Well, you did ask me to a movie. I don’t see why else you would bring up a cinema after asking about how busy I was unless – wait, do hold on a second--” Rarity pulled away from the telephone. “Six bits? Really? So she’s asking because – oh, my mistake.”
“Er, perhaps we should have led with that, upon second thought.”
“Right.” Rarity had moved back to the microphone. “I see, my mistake for assuming. Is it true, then?”
“Yes.” Luna coughed. “We bought a soda from the machine, so we are presently down two bits from there.”
“I see, how unfortunate. Well, unfortunately, Luna, we can’t really help you with that, as we, ah, already spent all of it, and thus have no bits to give.”
“You what?” Luna didn’t know exactly how much money the two had convinced Twilight to rid herself of, but she did know her monthly stipend, and was an improbably large amount of money for anypony to spend in three days.
“We spent all of the money, or, rather, sold everything she gave us, and then spent all of that money. It was, er, rather hot money, you see, which needed to be turned into assets fairly quickly.”
“Hot money?”
“You know, money you need to get rid of due to, ah, potential legal circumstances of possession? Honestly Luna, it’s like you’ve never laundered cash before.”
Luna shrugged. “We suppose not. Generally, in our day we just put the commander’s head on a pike when we ransacked something. What did Twilight have that was under so much scrutiny, anyway?”
Rarity chuckled. “Well, let’s just say, for the sake of a hypothetical argument, of course, that Twilight had an entire shoebox full of, uh, questionably legal study aids that she, under the mistaken assumption that we were operating some sort of intervention, bequeathed to us. Now, as neither Fluttershy nor I need such, er, assistance, it is entirely possible that we may have sold the entire box to an unscrupulous contact in the fashion industry and, hence, were left with thirty eight thousand bits we needed to spend, er, immediately. Hypothetically, of course.”
“Right. And what, pray tell, did you spend it on? Nothing frivolous, we hope.”
“Frivolous? Of course not–”
Rarity pulled away from the telephone, taking a long pull from a gold-plated cigarette holder. “Honestly, Fluttershy, would you call what we bought ‘frivolous?’”
Fluttershy paused from cutting pears (the natural accompaniment for Stilton and port, of course) with a beautifully wrought basket-hilted schiavona with a pattern-welded blade. “Probably not, no.”
“–No, I assure you, the majority of things we purchased were nothing more exciting than medical care and pet food, although I will admit that, after picking out something nice for our loved ones we may have, er, procured some flashier things. It’s all spent regardless.”
“Oh.” Luna kicked at the floor softly. “That is a shame. We had really looked forward to seeing a film in a theater for once. Our sister buys the ones she likes on film for the palace cinema, but her tastes and ours are, er, diametrically opposed. You can only imagine our disappointment our first witnessing of a ‘romantic film’ when it contained neither the Matters of Roan nor Prance but instead the inane trials of a pair of clueless suitors.”
“Mmm, I can see how that could be an issue.” There was a pause. “Er Luna, as opposed to begging us for a few bits, have you considered, say, confronting your sister? Surely you – wait, never mind, you’re oh for one on that front, probably best to not try again. But surely there’s a councilor or cabinet member to whom you can speak about this, right?
“We suppose there may be.” Luna sucked a breath through her teeth. “Although we must admit most of the attendants around the palace are not particularly pleased at out presence, and those closer to our sister are, um, a bit scary.”
“Oh?” Rarity chuckled. “Surely you don’t mean to tell me you’re afraid of, oh, what’s her name? Inkwell, is it? That’s the dour looking one who sticks to your sister’s flanks, right?”
“Well, not afraid, per say.” Luna looked around, not seeing the eponymous secretary. “It’s more that we are not entirely convinced she is a real pony. She only responds to four or five set questions, and as far as we can tell she doesn’t, er, sleep. We personally believe she is some sort of construct in perpetual servitude to our sister.”
“How disturbing.” There was a gulp from the other side of the line, although it was unclear whether it was Rarity swallowing in fear or drinking her way through the spoils of Twilight's cellar. “But isn’t the Minister of the Exchequer responsible for the treasury anyway? I can’t say I’m the most politically informed pony in the world, nor did I, er, pass civics in high school, but I believe that’s correct, yes?”
Luna gasped. “Miss Rarity, how could we have overlooked that! Of course we should have consulted with our councilors first! Brilliant thinking.”
Rarity scoffed, “Well, I wouldn’t have exactly called it brilliant, more the ‘first action I would take,’ but your complement is appreciated nonetheless–”
Luna continued. “Why, their meeting should be concluding in but an hour or so! It should be no problem at all to get him alone and vulnerable!”
“Er, vulnerable? I hardly think any sort of violence will be necessary, Princess–”
Luna flipped the switch-hook back down, ending the call, then placed the earpiece back onto the receiver and stepped back from the desk. She looked around, and, not seeing the secretary, spun a palace directory around on the surface, opening it to a map of the grounds.
“Armory, armory, armory…”
Rarity looked down at her earpiece, which had suddenly and worryingly gone dead.
“What was that about?” asked Fluttershy, who took another sip of Twilight’s wine; in this case, a phenomenal 30 year tawny port.
“Well, lots of things, really,” replied Rarity noncommittally, “but I have a terrible suspicion we’ll be taking a trip to Canterlot in the near future.”
“Voluntarily? Or, uh, in, um, custody?”
Rarity thought for a second, “Not sure, to be perfectly honest. I think it could go either way depending on how exactly our beloved princess of the night behaves.”
Fluttershy thought for a second, then shrugged. “Not really anything we can, uh, do about that, then.” She held up the bottle. “More wine?”
Rarity picked up her jewel-encrusted goblet with her teeth, her horn still out of commission. “Gladly.”