Bloodhound didn't get out of the carriage until she was in front of her house. She didn't want to let the smells of the bakeries and bug nests try to tempt her away from her mission.
Still, doubt was beginning to plague her. Fireball hadn't been acting a bad kind of strange lately. Was this really solid evidence she was involved in the case? No. But it's certainly proof she's connected.
She was still angry, but managed to bring herself back to reason. She couldn't just confront her mother head-on. If Fireball caught on, the entire case could go up in flames.
Bloodhound pushed open the front door. "Mother? Are you home?"
"Hey, Houndsy!" Fireball called as she came down from upstairs. "You're home early. Everything okay?"
Steady on, Houndsy. Don't let her know anything's wrong.
She needed to think. How would Matchstick have had any contact with Fireball? He was a matchmaker. So maybe… "I have a bit of an odd question. How did you meet Mum?"
Fireball furrowed her brow. "Why do you want to know that?"
Did I just see her pupils shrink a little? Is she afraid? "I'm just trying to learn more about her."
Fireball cleared her throat nervously. "Well… we met at a party. Some friends of mine introduced us. You know them, actually. They were here on… that unfortunate night."
Right. But their names weren't in invisible ink. Yours was. "What sort of party was it?" she pressed.
Right away she could tell she'd hit a nerve. Fireball's eyes flicked back and forth, as if looking for an escape route. But, after a moment, she caught herself, taking a deep, calming breath. "Houndsy… you're acting odd. Are you okay?"
She sounded so caring, just like she had recently. Doubt once again plagued Bloodhound's mind, tempering her anger. "I'm just… curious," she said, barely managing to not say it through gritted teeth.
Fireball gave a frustrated grimace, but calmed herself again. Being taller, she knelt down to Bloodhound's level. "Houndsy, I'm your mother. I know when you're lying to me. I understand if it's something you can't tell me right now, but you know that, the moment you can, I'll still be here to listen. That's what a good parent does, right?"
Bloodhound's resolve almost broke there. She wanted to tell her everything, to beg for some kind of explanation. But she knew she couldn't. "I… understand."
Fireball hugged her. "Thank you. I… I really wish I could just tell you. But I'm… not comfortable right now. I don't have the courage. I promise that I'll tell you, but please, give me some time to steel myself. Okay?"
That reassured Bloodhound a little. If she's that uncomfortable, her reactions to the question make sense. "Yes. Thank you."
Fireball gave her another squeeze before she released her. "I have somewhere I need to be soon. But I have a little present for you."
Bloodhound's smile finally returned, even though it was forced. "Oh?"
Fireball went to the kitchen, and came back with a bottle. Bloodhound recognized it. It was the same bottle of wine that Flip had been drinking from on the night of Sprout's death.
"The most expensive bottle in my collection," Fireball explained. "Since Flip talked me into getting on the wagon, I don't really need it anymore. I know you don't really drink, but I wanted you to have it. Consider it a little symbol of my promise to be a better mom."
Bloodhound was floored. Her anger and suspicion faded into the background, and she actually teared up a little as she accepted the bottle. "I… I don't know what to say…"
"Say you'll do your best at your new job, and make me even more proud than you already have," Fireball teased.
Bloodhound gave a wobbly smile, and saluted. "Yes, ma'am!"
Fireball laughed, kissing her on the cheek. "I need to head out, or I'll be late. Love you, Houndsy."
Bloodhound hugged her back as tightly as she possibly could. "I love you too."
Her purpose for coming home completely unfulfilled, Bloodhound went up to her room, defeated and confused. I hope I don't get in trouble for storming out of the morgue like that.
It would make sense if she did. She supposed she had also sort of just questioned her mother without a warrant.
She grimaced at the thought, and had to shake her head to try and clear it of anxiety. To calm herself down, she gave Rudy a few extra pets after she fed her bugs.
Once she was done, she turned back to the bottle. I should probably do something with it. I don't know if wine needs to be refrigerated, but surely it can't hurt.
As Bloodhound picked up the bottle, she noticed something odd. The seal was still on. I could have sworn I saw Flip drinking from this. Mother did say it was valuable. Maybe she or Flip re-sealed it somehow to hide the fact that it's been opened.
Regardless, she put it in her bedroom refrigerator. She could ask them about it some other time.
Her thoughts were interrupted by a knock from downstairs. Was that the front door?
As soon as she opened the door, she was enveloped by two things: the familiar scent of perfume mixed with wing wax, and yet another involuntary hug.
"Houndsyyyyyyy!" Aphrodite greeted. "I'm glad to see you're okay. I got so worried when your friends told me you stormed out of work like that."
"Hrrk!" Bloodhound gently extricated herself from Aphrodite's embrace. "I'm fine. I just… got overwhelmed. They told you about me?"
"Of course we did!" Bloodhound found herself swept up in another hug as Merrilight swept past Aphrodite.
Thankfully, Starfish pried her off. "We tried to follow you, but got stuck in traffic," she explained, taking her helmet off. "Something must be going on down on Crimson Avenue. The line of carriages blocked at least three roads."
"Fortunately for us, we ran into Ms. Aphrodite, and she gave us a ride!" Merrilight finished.
"I was on my way here anyway, and I've flown hitched to a carriage before," Aphrodite said with a giggle.
"You were on your way here?" Bloodhound asked. "Why?"
"Weeeelll… I can't tell you that," Aphrodite said. "It's a surprise. I was supposed to pick you three up. So it's good I ran into these two on the way."
Bloodhound was confused, but followed them all out to the carriage. Thankfully, they were alone in the cab, with Aphrodite hitching herself to the front.
They took off. Bloodhound's stomach lurched at the sudden motion of being lifted into the air. She somehow got a little greener than she already was.
"Do either of you have any idea what this is about?" Bloodhound asked in a low voice, once her airsickness had subsided.
"No idea," Starfish replied.
"It's an opportunity to get closer to one of our suspects," Merrilight said. "So does it matter?"
"Fair point." Starfish turned to Bloodhound. "Are you okay? You took off like a bat out of Tartarus."
"I'm… as okay as I can be," Bloodhound replied.
"Did you get anything out of your mother?" Merrilight asked.
"Maybe," said Bloodhound. "But I don't know how to explain it right now, and I'm not sure if I have time."
As if the universe was trying to prove her point, the carriage rolled to a stop, and the door opened. "We're heeeere!" Aphrodite announced cheerfully.
Starfish frowned like she still wanted to dig into Bloodhound for running off, but reluctantly let the point be as they all got off.
The sign out front read Je Ne Parle Prancais. "Wait… this is…" Bloodhound had to straighten her glasses to make sure the fancy, cursive script said what she thought it said.
"The most expensive restaurant in town!" Merrilight realized. "Er… I'm sorry, but I don't think I can actually afford to eat here."
"Oh, don't worry!" Aphrodite said with a sly smile. "It's our treat!"
"Our?" Bloodhound asked.
"Oh no no!" said a familiar voice. "You are not walking into a high-class establishment wearing that!"
Golden Lace strode up to them. She wore a gorgeous gown that Bloodhound swore must have been woven from the contents of some national treasury somewhere.
"Wearing what?" Merrilight asked. "Smiles? A sense of self worth despite not being rich?"
"Smelly coats and hoof-me-down top hats!" Lace scolded. "And who comes to dinner in full armor?"
Aphrodite's smile was far too wide for Bloodhound's comfort level. "I think we know what that meeeeeaaans!"
"What does it me—" Before Bloodhound could finish her sentence, the three of them were whisked past the line, into the building, and into a powder room so fast that they didn't even get to see the rest of the interior.
The tornado of a mare who had blown them here grinned in Bloodhound's face. "MAKEOVEEEEERS!"
Lace strolled in a moment later. "Yes, I suppose if these three can't care for their own appearances, we must do it for them."
"I have the emergency dresses!" Aphrodite confirmed.
Merrilight blanched. "N-now hold on. No need to do anything drastic."
"There absolutely is!" Aphrodite's eyes widened in shock. "Don't you want your organization to look respectable? Now hold still. This won't take long."
The three of them were like cats at a groomer: Bloodhound was calm and docile, Starfish glared and let out the occasional complaint, but was disciplined enough to be polite, and Merrilight yowled and fought like she was the one at risk of being murdered.
Theoretically, these two are suspects, Bloodhound thought to herself. So I suppose she kind of is.
She did use the opportunity to get a subtle whiff of them both. Lace had the light scent of cologne on her, so she'd definitely been in contact with some stallion or another during the past day or so. Aphrodite wore a perfume that was familiar, but that Bloodhound couldn't quite put her nose on.
"Makeup time!" Aphrodite announced.
"Nooooooo!" Merrilight, on her back, wiggled her hooves to try and escape. "I refuse!"
But Aphrodite was too strong, managing to hold her prey down while simultaneously whipping her brush around so fast Bloodhound couldn't tell what was going on. When the cloud of makeup dust settled, to everyone's amazement, Merrilight looked quite good despite her struggles.
At the end, each was in a dress with matching eyeshadow: Starfish in gold, Merrilight in black, and Bloodhound in red.
"Tadaaaa!" Aphrodite sang. "Now you're prepared!"
Merrilight made a mortified sound, eerily similar to a death rattle.
Bloodhound nudged her. "Now you know part of what I had to deal with, growing up with Mum."
"What exactly are we prepared for?" Starfish asked.
"You'll see in a moment," Lace assured, nodding towards the door. "Follow us."
Curiosity overcoming caution, Bloodhound exited the room first.
The restaurant was massive. It was furnished in shiny shades of silver and gold, white tablecloths on every circular table. Bloodhound was nearly blinded by the radiance of it all, but a nice string band helped soothe her senses.
There was a small crowd, with their backs to them, facing the door. Some kind of banner dangled above them, facing a way that Bloodhound couldn't see what it said.
Lace cleared her throat.
Confused, the crowd turned around. Bloodhound was surprised to see her mother amongst them.
"Surprise!" Fireball said awkwardly, followed by the rest of the crowd.
"How the hay did they get in without us noticing?" Flip muttered.
"Sometimes fashion emergencies require a little bending of the laws of spacetime," Aphrodite replied cheerily. "But that's not important right now!"
"What are you all doing here?" Bloodhound asked, eyes wide with astonishment. She recognized a few faces, but many of the well-dressed ponies present were strangers to her.
"Look for yourself," Fireball encouraged.
Bloodhound stepped forward, craning her neck to look at the banner.
It read "Congratulations Bloodhound!" in big, blue letters.
"Flip and I were talking, and I realized I never actually rewarded you for getting your first job," Fireball explained. "So I thought, in addition to throwing a party, I'd bring in some folks who are willing to donate their resources to the Watch. I looked in on your little project, Constable Merrilight. It looks like you need all the help you can get."
Merrilight looked absolutely gobsmacked. "Y-yes! Absolutely! Thank you, Mrs. Whiskey!" She shook Fireball's hoof vigorously.
One of the members of the crowd stepped forward. She was an alabaster mare with a big, orange, beehive mane, and a very ruffly, purple dress. "You're Fireball's daughter?" she said in a very nasally voice, nose so high it gave her an extra foot of height.
"Erm… yes?" Bloodhound replied awkwardly.
The mare held out her hoof. "Coin Shortage. Charmed. My daughter speaks highly of you."
Bloodhound bumped hooves with her. "Oh! You must be Flip's mother. It's so good to meet you."
The mare harrumphed, and made her way to a table.
Bloodhound blinked at the blatantly rude gesture, staring after her. "...Okay then."
The rest of the crowd had tensed as Shortage approached, but relaxed as she left without incident. Whatever her abrupt departure meant, it must have been good, because they all separated to start mingling. I will never understand the nobles of Canterlot.
Merrilight and Bloodhound ended up at the same table. Merrilight looked incredibly out-of-place and uncomfortable. "We are in a lion's den, Bloodhound. But, if we play our cards right, we might just come out well-fed."
"I should hope so," Bloodhound replied. "This is a restaurant."
"Not what I meant." Merrilight looked around the room like a nervous meerkat. "As an experimental force, the Watch currently relies on very meager funds from the crown. If we can get donations from some of the nobility, we'll be absolutely set. We could buy an office of our own, instead of being crammed into the back of the Guard HQ. Maybe we could even hire a few more Watchponies."
"Ah. Yes. You're right." Bloodhound sipped her drink. She'd been so blindsided by everything that she hadn't thought of what it could mean for the Watch.
It took a few moments before she realized Merrilight was giving her a look. For a second, she was perplexed at what it could mean, then it clicked. As it did, she felt her chest tighten, but she forced herself to speak anyway. "What? You're not expecting me to talk to all of them, are you?"
"No! Nonono. But… well, I'm not exactly rich, noble-blooded, or respected. Soooo… maybe you could put in a good word for me?"
Bloodhound started to hyperventilate. "I don’t know how to schmooze for funding!" she argued. "It also occurs to me that most of our current suspects are in this restaurant right now!"
“Hey! Take it easy! Just breathe!” Merrilight demonstrated slow breathing, trying to stop Bloodhound from having a panic attack. “They like what’s new and novel. Just…show off a little. And I highly doubt the suspects will suspect anything. Maybe you could even get some info from them.”
Bloodhound paused. “You think it’s really that easy?”
“I do,” Merrilight replied, giving her an encouraging nudge. “You’ll absolutely dazzle them!”
She finally got her heart rate under control. Bloodhound took a breath to steel herself. “You’re right. Maybe I can even find something out from the smells on somepony.”
"Perhaps. If you can be subtle, feel free to ask around." Merrilight sighed. "I wish I'd been allowed to wear my uniform." She kicked at the skirt of her dress. "I'm going to fall on my face the moment I take a step. I just know it."
"Probably best you stay here then." Bloodhound got up. "I'll be back. Maybe once I've put in my good word, I can teach you to walk in a dress." It felt weird to be the one teaching somepony else not to look like an awkward mess.
She decided that the best thing to do would be to get help from the mare who'd introduced her to the Watch in the first place. Aphrodite had a small crowd gathered around her, as she danced a very fast ballet both on the ground and in the air. Most of the crowd were customers, but a few waiters and a cook also stood about.
Bloodhound waited politely until the show finished. When Aphrodite finally landed on the tips of her hindhooves, the staff stomped and cheered. The nobles applauded quietly, while giving the staff dirty looks.
"Houndsy!" Aphrodite greeted. "How are you enjoying the party so far?"
"It's not exactly what I'm used to," Bloodhound admitted. "Same for Merrilight. She was hoping for some help impressing the nobles."
"Ah, Merrilight. Poor mare. Never has known much about advertising." A wicked smile crossed her face. "I have the perfect idea to get you some attention. Follow my lead."
She spun Bloodhound around. "Mares and gentlecolts, the lady of the hour, and the Watch's new Chief Detective, Bloodhound!"
"But there are only two of—" Bloodhound found her mouth blocked by feathers. With Aphrodite's wing so close, she was again aware of the scent of a familiar perfume that she couldn't quite place.
"She's truly brilliant, able to get a read on a pony's secrets with a mere sniff!" Aphrodite gushed. She pointed at a pale-white stallion with a monocle and a blue mustache. "Do him, Houndsy!"
"I suppose it sounds fun enough!" said the stallion with a jolly laugh. "Greetings! My name is Fancypants."
"Thank you for volunteering, your grace," Bloodhound said with a wobbly smile. Aphrodite had really put her on the spot in front of a bunch of strangers. She didn't have much choice but to push through her stage fright.
The other nobles had tensed up at the mention of secrets being sussed out, but relaxed as one of their number was chosen. Curious. I wonder what they have to hide.
She took a whiff of Fancypants. Moustache wax, light cologne, notes of sand and tropical fruit. A very faded scent of cherry perfume. "You're subscribed to Moustachio Monthlio, and use the new wax they send with every magazine. Your parents were quite strict with you growing up, resulting in you being a bit of a maverick among the nobles. You and your wife had a trip to a tropical destination recently, resulting in her contracting a contagious illness that has forced you two apart for… I want to say a week. If I had to guess, I'd say she's a fashion model. Judging by the scent of fruit on you, I'm going to take a shot in the dark that she became infected with wonderfleas after attempting to eat a wild wonderfruit. Yet you avoided infection somehow. Let me guess, you have food tasters to prevent this kind of thing, but she was too eager to sample local cuisine?"
Fancypants' jaw dropped, his monocle fell off, and he had to catch it to put it back on. "By jove! That's exactly right!"
"I've got a strong nose," Bloodhound explained, cheeks warming.
"But how did you know all those scents?" a gray mare asked.
"Studying, mostly," Bloodhound replied. "In college, I used it as a party trick. I wasn't too good at first, but experience helped boost my accuracy."
"Why didn't you join the Guard?" asked somepony in the crowd that Bloodhound couldn't see.
"I was rejected," Bloodhound admitted. "Asthma, and lack of physical fitness. I'm not exactly Guard material." She gave an awkward, snorty laugh. It was a mild lie of omission that she hadn't truly applied for any positions she could have made. But technically it was still true, and there was no guarantee she'd have gotten the job anyway if she had applied.
That got the crowd muttering. Several of them looked offended on her behalf.
"The Watch is more of a civilian thing," Aphrodite added helpfully. "If you want to know more, the head of it is sitting over there." She pointed at Merrilight, who was watching the crowd, while trying to look like she wasn't watching the crowd.
"I believe I'll have a word with her," Fancypants decided. Several other nobles nodded agreement. "Thank you for your time, Ms. Hound!"
Bloodhound watched them all go in honest shock that it had been that easy. She wasn't aware that her jaw was hanging open until Aphrodite closed it for her, and nudged her glasses back into place. "What… what just happened?"
"You got your hoof in the door!" Aphrodite replied cheerily, giving her a playful kiss on the cheek. "Go on. Enjoy your party."
Bloodhound's legs were still a little wobbly as she explored the restaurant. She didn't like the looks some of the upper crust of Canterlot were giving her. She felt judged, or appraised.
So she did what any scared filly would do: run for her mother.
Fireball and Starfish had found a private spot in the back, behind a privacy screen, to escape the looks, and were currently hoofwrestling on one of the tables.
Starfish's face was strained and sweaty, but Fireball's was relaxed, with a small grin. Their hooves were locked in place, and no matter how hard Starfish pushed, Fireball didn't budge a single inch, and not an ounce of strain made its way onto her face.
Starfish's concession was an inevitability, and her hoof hit the table moments later. "Are you made of iron?" she asked, eyes wide.
"I'm made of fire, kid," Fireball remarked with a wink.
Bloodhound cleared her throat.
They both finally noticed her. "Would you mind giving us just a moment?" Starfish said to Fireball. "Had something private to ask Bloodhound."
"Of course," Fireball replied. "I'll go see if I can find any suitable bachelors or bachelorettes for Houndsy." She shot a wink at a very blushy Bloodhound as she left.
Bloodhound grumbled as she sat where her mother had been.
Starfish leaned forward with surprising intensity. "So. I can't be the only one who noticed that almost all of our suspects are under one roof."
Bloodhound shook off her embarrassment to regain a small semblance of professionalism. "I suppose that is true. But what do you mean almost?"
"I'm still counting Spiderweb," Starfish replied. "But that's not my point. Something feels off here. You don't spend the kind of social goodwill it takes to gather the entire upper crust of Canterlot to a fundraiser just to congratulate somepony. I just… I have a gut feeling that something is going to go wrong tonight. If you're willing to tell, I'd really like to hear what went down with your mother before we reached you. We've got to pick up the pace on this investigation."
Bloodhound brought her up to speed. While they spoke, a waiter finally came over with their food. Bloodhound had ordered sauteed mushrooms in a light pesto. Starfish had ordered a fancy strawberry cake.
"So your mum has a secret she doesn't want to tell…" Starfish pondered.
"Matchstick didn't get them together," Bloodhound informed. "I was there when they met. It had nothing to do with any matchmaker."
Starfish took a bite of cake to help her think. "If we can figure out what those names mean, I think we can crack this case wide open. Let's put our heads together. There has to be something that can explain it."
They both wracked their brains in silence. Bloodhound found that Starfish's technique of eating to help her think was very helpful. Perhaps it was something to do with the purple powder? Maybe Matchstick was dealing it, and the ledger is a list of customers?
No. That couldn't be right. Spiderweb had said it had come as a gift. She could have been lying, but surely it could be proven, and none of that powder had been found anywhere else. She probably thought it was some kind of stinky perfume.
Perfume… That triggered a tiny memory in her brain. An odd puzzle piece that hadn't quite fit anywhere when she found it. Like a lit fuse, the trail of logic raced to its conclusion in her mind. When the powder barrels blew, Bloodhound shot to her hooves, and began almost running away from the table.
"Bloodhound?" Starfish hurried to keep up, caught off-guard. "Did you think of something?"
"Shh," Bloodhound replied. "Let me do the talking."
Golden Lace was on her own, watching the crowd as she sipped a glass of sparkling water.
"Golden Lace!" Bloodhound said with just a bit too much enthusiasm as she approached her new friend. "Could I please speak with you for a moment in private? I simply must express my gratitude for you setting all this up!" Laying it on a little thick there, Houndsy?
Thick enough for Lace to raise an eyebrow. "What do you really want, and why are you talking like that?"
Starfish finally caught up, panting from the sudden gallop. She skidded to a stop, almost colliding with Lace. "Apologies, your grace. I don't know what's gotten into her." She gave a lopsided grin. "I-I don't suppose you've uh… donated to the Guard Gala?"
That attempt at conversation was such an appalling display of the total lack of social graces that Lace turned to Bloodhound. "Get me away from her, and we can speak in private as long as you like."
Bloodhound opened her mouth to give further excuses, then closed it and nodded.
They made their way to the powder room, where they were at least unlikely to get interrupted. "If you don't mind, I'd like to ask you a few questions about a case I'm working," Bloodhound said. She's a mare of few words. I should just get to the point.
Lace raised an eyebrow. "Do I need a lawyer?" It wasn't said in a joking manner.
Bloodhound shook her head. "No. At least, I don't think so. Judging by what I've seen, if you were going to kill somepony, it'd be your husband."
She was also being completely serious, but somehow, that still got a barely-restrained laugh out of Lace. "Alright. What are your questions?"
"You knew Count Matchstick, right?" Bloodhound asked.
Bloodhound saw a very slight stiffening of her shoulders. "I did," Lace replied curtly.
"Did you ever use his services?" Bloodhound pressed.
"My husband and I did not meet through him, no."
Bloodhound grit her teeth, scraping a hoof on the ground. She was so close! Her heart tried desperately to escape her ribcage at the thought of answers. "That's not what I meant, and you know it!"
Lace turned away. "This conversation is over."
Bloodhound felt something unfamiliar rise up in her, and she was moving before either of them realized it. She wasn't big, nor strong, nor swarthy, but she was the last pony Lace would have expected to charge at her and pin her against the wall. "What does Matchstick have to do with my Mum's murder!?"
They stared into each other's eyes. Bloodhound's breath was heaving from adrenaline and stress. Lace's eyes were as wide as the moon, and her expression was one of utter surprise and confusion.
In a voice quiet as a mouse, Lace spoke one word: "Murder…?"
Bloodhound's blood ran cold as she realized what she has said. Way to go! You just revealed your case to one of your suspects and assaulted her in the same conversation!
She pulled back. "I-I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me." All her bravado and righteous anger had once again escaped her, leaving her looking and feeling like a hunched, dried, dead tree.
Lace was still so shocked that she didn't bother to tidy her mussed dress or mane. "What do you mean, Sprout was murdered?" she demanded.
Bloodhound cringed. "Mum… was poisoned. With venom from my room."
Lace took several moments to process that gracefully. "How do you…? No. I won't pry into that. I doubt I'd understand your explanation. Was that why you were asking about Matchstick?"
"We think their deaths may be related," Bloodhound admitted sorrowfully.
Lace took a moment to restore herself to a proper state of elegance, and turned her nose to the air. "We both know what you're going to say," she said in a slightly hoarse tone. "Say it."
Bloodhound drew herself up, trying to muster her fury and courage again. "You were cheating on your husband."
Lace was silent.
"Matchstick organized it for you," Bloodhound continued. "Your name was in his book. The scent of stallion was on you, and not your husband's."
Lace said nothing.
"That was his true business," Bloodhound deduced. "He wasn't just a matchmaker. He organized affairs between the Canterlot elite."
Lace's silence lasted a few heartbeats longer. "If word of this gets out… word of your assault on me will get out as well. Mutually assured destruction."
Bloodhound could only nod.
Lace looked up at the ceiling. "I've been trapped in a loveless marriage from a young age," she revealed. "Matchstick was a scoundrel, and a fiend, but his services brought me such relief. He introduced me to partners who made me feel cared for. Even for just a little while."
"I'm not here to scold you," Bloodhound murmured. "I just want to put these pieces together, and find out what happened to Mum."
"Well, you have another piece," Lace said, sounding exhausted. "You're completely correct. Count Matchstick organized extramarital affairs. He was quite good at it, too."
Bloodhound's blood boiled. "So… my mother was cheating on my mum."
Lace had looked shocked before, but now she looked absolutely gobsmacked. "Wait, what?"
"Fireball's name was in his ledger," Bloodhound hissed, before her shoulders slumped, and her face fell, ears pinning as best they could with her poofy mane in the way. “Why would she do that? Mum loved us both. Why would Mother do something so terrible as betraying her like that?"
"Bloodhound… that's not possible."
Bloodhound blinked. "Pardon?"
"Fireball hated what Matchstick did," Lace explained. "She never, not once in a thousand years, would have used his services. She'd sooner run him through with a spear. If anything, Sprout would be the one in that ledger. She was the target of many a noble's affections, and was much more free on her own before she fell head-over-hooves for Fireball."
Bloodhound's head spun, trying to put together what she had just heard. "But… then why—"
The lights went out.
Bloodhound jumped at the suddenness with which she was plunged into blackness. She heard Lace let out a muffled curse.
Outside, there were screams.
The two of them quickly made their way to the door. The lights came back on just before they opened it, and they were met with quite the sight:
The crowd had parted around the two screamers, who now stood silent, staring at each other. One was Coin Shortage. The other was a stallion whom Bloodhound hadn't met, with a yellow coat and a very neat, oiled, black mane.
Shortage muttered a single word. "What…?"
A red stain began to darken the floor beneath her dress. The stallion's white shirt began to turn crimson.
They both fell over at the same time, landing with thuds of finality.
They were dead.