"You wanted to see me, Princess Celestia?"
Glancing up from the scroll she was reading for a moment, the Princess nodded. "Yes, Sunset Shimmer. Please, have a seat." She did and... nothing happened.
Seconds - minutes - passed as Celestia sipped her tea and read the scroll. Sunset stayed where she was. Leaving after being directly summoned was a bridge too far even for her, so all she could do was squirm and wait. Wait with her flank pasted to the chair - carved from a single chunk of teak, with the plush cushion made from cloud-soft velvet. It had been given to the Princess as tribute by her sheep subjects a decade earlier.
Celestia was in no rush, either. Her steaming cup slowly drained as she finished the task at hoof while her student waited.
The wall clock - a relic gifted by an ambassador from Farasi, made from ebony and gold three hundred years ago - ticked loudly.
Finally finishing, Princess Celestia set down her teacup - a beautiful snow white porcelain laced with gold and cobalt blue patterns that had once belonged to King Guto, it had been gifted to the Princess by the Griffonian ambassador as payment for shelter when he fled the nation's collapse. In it remained the dregs of her breakfast drink: a drop of honey and a hearty black breakfast tea, purchased at the nearest corner store for two bits per half-pound of loose leaf. The literally priceless china clinked against the saucer with a near complete lack of grace before the Princess wiped her lips with a monogrammed napkin of Abyssinian silk.
"I'm told that Princess Cadance has apologized to you."
The phrasing of it instantly put Sunset on the defensive - obviously Celestia couldn't possibly approve of Cadance apologizing like a commoner instead of a princess. But there was truth to it and without knowing more about what the Princess had been told, Sunset couldn't dispute things. So she nodded and chose her words carefully. "The two of us made peace, yes."
It was an answer that seemed to please Princess Celestia - confirming the situation without casting doubt on a princess' infallibility. "She mentioned it to me in passing this morning while I was introducing her to members of the Egalitarian Equestrians Society. I was quite pleased to hear, after what happened at the reception." Celestia paused to exchange the scroll she had been reading for a different one. "You caused a bit of a stir with your abrupt disappearance."
Another leading question, masked in false concern. Sunset knew the tone well - Princess Celestia used it often. "She surprised me. That's all."
"And it has nothing to do with Prince Blueblood?" Celestia pushed the hot button, just lightly. "I noticed that you and he were having a conversation right before the incident."
Sunset's teeth clenched as the conversation - and her temper - flared back into her mind. "He did distract me, which is why I didn't notice Cadance."
A slight nod from the alicorn. "Yes, that would explain how Princess Cadance caught you off-guard." The title drew extra hard emphasis. Then Celestia tried to tack back the other way, plying a bit of honey. "You know, I don't see why you couldn't be more friendly with Blueblood. He's young but isn't a bad pony once you get to know him."
What she meant, of course, was that Sunset should reconsider what Blueblood had been offering her. And on the surface? She had a point. An alliance (and Sunset refused to consider it anything more than that) with Blueblood would benefit them both. He wouldn't have to worry about his precious lineage anymore, and Sunset would have access to power, influence and wealth. She had some as the Princess' student, granted, but it was still comparatively limited. Joining Blueblood would solidify her status permanently and force the bickering nobles to accept her presence.
Of course, that assumed that Sunset Shimmer would never be an alicorn.
So with no value in Blueblood at all, Sunset shrugged and declined to give a straight answer. "I'll keep that in mind."
The deflection forced Celestia's lips to a thin line. She set down her scroll.
Before the Princess could speak, Sunset took the initiative back for herself. "You know, I don't see why you're having Cadance take all these lessons alone. If I was there with her, I bet I could help her out." She paused for half a breath before launching her next salvo. "Plus it'll prepare me for being a princess, too."
The bait was out - and taken. "You have not yet demonstrated you're ready for such things, Sunset Shimmer." Celestia's voice had that familiar firm hardness to it - but this time, that was exactly what Sunset wanted. She couldn't let the Princess clue in to the plan, and part of that was making her think Sunset's priorities hadn't changed. Fortunately, it was working. "Perhaps in time, but you still have many other important lessons to learn first."
Sunset snorted angrily. "You haven't given me a lesson yet that I haven't mastered."
Princess Celestia smiled a sad, pitying smile. "So you say."
Sunset's eyes narrowed.
And Celestia continued on, retaking control of the conversation. "Returning to the point, how is Princess Cadance doing in her lessons with you?"
"Pretty good, considering she has all the knowledge of a brick." Sunset swung the compliment like a mace. "She's managed to progress from the magical equivalent of a newborn to the equivalent of a toddler in two weeks. A few more months and he might be able to hold a quill."
While that poor grade was obviously not going to go over well, Sunset hadn't anticipated just how annoyed Princess Celestia's face became. "I expected better of you, Sunset Shimmer."
Despite all of her confidence and bluster, when faced with being the focus of the Princess' disappointment - Sunset cringed away.
"You are the most promising student of magic I have seen in at least a century and could become one of the greatest mages in Equestria's history. Despite your age, you already dwarf most unicorns both in knowledge and raw magical ability. That teaching a single student of your own is proving too much is..." Princess Celestia frowned and let out a long, frustrated sigh. "Disappointing."
Before Sunset could speak up in her own defense, Celestia continued on. "I would like to see greater progress - and quickly."
Sunset tried to harden herself under the Sun's disapproving gaze, but her attempt at smug indifference didn't go further than looking petulant. "She'll have a handle on levitation soon. I'll make sure of it."
Instead of looking pleased - or even just placated - Princess Celestia shook her head. "That is not enough, Sunset. Were it any other student I would be more allowing, but Princess Cadance is different. She is an alicorn without magic - she is vulnerable." The Princess' hard expression softened just enough for a sliver of worry to slip through. "She cannot be allowed to come to harm. A second alicorn is..." Celestia paused, the words almost too difficult to say. "It is a precious thing. I cannot allow even the chance that she is lost."
It was brief - seconds, maybe half a minute at most. But for that tiny little span, Princess Celestia - the Unconquered Sun, the Mare of the Dawn, the Eternal Beacon - was mortal. Her guard came down and exposed something deep inside her: a sorrow unspoken for generations, told to no one before that moment. And there was a deep disquiet that sat under her eyes, pulling her soul downwards with the world's weight.
Sunset should have taken advantage of it.
But she didn't. She couldn't. That vulnerability in the Immortal, the Eternal - it shook her. Something deep inside Sunset saw the sadness smoldering behind the alicorn's ancient eyes and balked at the thought of using it against the Princess.
Then it was gone as the walls went up again, sealing Celestia off from her student and the world. "Shields," she pronounced firmly. "I want Princess Cadance to be taught how to defend herself. Teach whatever is needed in that but she must be invulnerable, Sunset Shimmer. I will not lose her."
The silence hung heavy between them for another half-minute before Sunset finally spoke again. "After levitation," she offered. And quickly she appended herself. "But only that! If she can't handle basic levitation, she'll never manage a shield worth anything. She has to stand before she can trot, Princess."
Celestia didn't like the delay - but she allowed it with a sharp nod. "Alright. But only that. Cadance's ability to protect herself is top priority." She hesitated before adding, "I'm trusting you with this, Sunset Shimmer."
Trust. With the relationship between Celestia and Sunset so strained, it was a loaded word. But while her instinct was to scoff at it, Sunset couldn't entirely suppress the tiny spark in her gut. Princess Celestia was trusting her - trusting her with a duty that was earth-shatteringly critical. Perhaps this was the chance she'd been waiting for. The opening to prove she was ready.
Sunset smiled a little bit and nodded with an eagerness she hadn't felt in years. "I understand, Princess Celestia."
By the time she was bedding down for the night, Sunset was kicking herself.
Celestia, damn her, had taken Sunset off-guard. It was easy to forget sometimes just how good an actress the Princess could be - centuries of politics and diplomacy had shaped her into a master manipulator, and the conversation earlier had proven it.
The irony was that Celestia hadn't needed to - protecting Cadance was in Sunset's best interests, too. The plan wouldn't work if Cadance was hurt. So of course teaching her the basics of defending herself was on the to-do list. Moving it up to please Celestia didn't hurt anything.
But it all still galled Sunset.
She hated her own weakness. She hated that the Princess had played her so easily. She hated those brief moments of empathy. Yes, no harm was done to Sunset's schemes, but it was the principle of it. Everything was so obvious, in retrospect. The idea that Princess Celestia could be so unrestrained, so... so vulnerable? It was ridiculous. She had emotions, Sunset reminded herself, but she was far too savvy to expose them like that.
Besides, what could Princess Celestia possibly be that sad about? She was Princess Celestia. The Sun didn't get sad.