Flurry Heart levitated the last slice of her pink birthday cake over to the foal. It was the slice with the ‘12’ on top.
His brown eyes, wide as dinner plates, gaped at the slice as it gracefully landed on his own, chipped ceramic plate. His mother nudged him with a rear hoof and adjusted the conical pink party hat on his gray mane.
“T-thank you, Princess,” he stammered.
His mother, a green-eyed white unicorn, bowed to her. “We are grateful for your generosity, Princess Flurry.”
Flurry waved a pink wing at her. “It’s nothing,” she said as she leaned close to the mare. “Did he have cake for his birthday?” she whispered into her ear.
The mare shook her head.
“Then consider it a belated gift,” Flurry smiled, and trotted back to the head of the table next to Thorax, who sat undisguised in a bulky brown jacket. He had two holstered pistols along his barrel. It was hard to tell with changelings, but he was scanning the room, seeking nods of confirmation from tactically-placed ponies in the crowd.
“I wish you would wait for guests to approach, Princess,” he remarked with a sigh as Flurry sat down.
“I will not fear for my life at my birthday party, uncle,” Flurry snorted. “You’re bad enough at the soup kitchen.”
“You will mean far more to your ponies alive, Princess.”
“I mean nothing to them if they do not see me,” Flurry replied, tapping a hoof on her empty plate. It was clean.
Thorax glanced at the plate. “Did you have any cake? Opal Agate used her month’s allotment of flour for it,” he whispered.
“Of course, uncle,” Flurry replied back loudly, smiling at Opal from across the room. “The cake was so delicious I licked my plate clean; such a fine cake deserved to be shared.”
Opal smiled back and her blue crystal coat shimmered a bit brighter under her apron. It wasn’t the same smile Flurry remembered from the Crystal Kitchens, but it was close. An earth pony next to her clapped her shoulder in celebration. A pegasus chased a griffon cub around the table, laughing at the role reversal of predator and prey.
“I can tell when you’re lying,” Thorax sighed.
“You should be able to tell that it was only half a lie,” Flurry sniped back quietly. “They deserve it more than me.”
Thorax sighed again and leaned back on the stool, but didn’t argue with her. Flurry knew that meant he was too proud to be annoyed. The alicorn leaned back and shook the party hat on her horn, making it light up in her blue magic. Some of the foals pointed and laughed.
Heartshovel was two days travel on hoof to the border of the Crystal Empire. It was a mining town, nestled deep in the Crystal Mountains, and exported tungsten that went east to the armories on the coastline of Nova Griffonia. Griffons abhorred digging in a hole, so gladly farmed the work out to the poor and destitute refugees that had fled to their lands. The Republic of Nova Griffonia had racial equality written into its constitution, but what was on paper was rarely done in practice.
Heartshovel had a population of a thousand, of which only a quarter were griffons, remnants of the stubborn mountain clans that had tried to rebel before the Great War. They hated the government far more than they hated ponies, so the griffins kept their traditional grouchiness to a minimum. Flurry Heart pledged to visit every refugee town once a year around her birthday, then return to Weter and speak with the Aquileians. This was the second year she traveled, and this time she was sure to mention how grateful she was to President Blackpeak at every stop, encouraging her ponies to vote for him in the upcoming election.
Except when she stopped at New Stalliongrad, which burned an effigy of her in protest for the second year in a row. She told them not to vote for Blackpeak, which guaranteed some of the communists would do so out of spite.
She didn’t care for Blackpeak, but he was dependent on the pony vote to be reelected, which made him dependent on her. He had yet to press the issue of her title, only asking her not to use it when she went on the radio. "Everypony knows you are their princess," he said with false cheer once at the radio station. "It is not necessary." Flurry nodded dutifully and thanked him for his hospitality.
He never used her title.
Opal had been one of the head chefs in the kitchen back home; she worked in the canteen for the mine with her three fillies. Flurry was ecstatic to meet her last year and promised to return for her next birthday. Opal had nervously accepted on behalf of the town.
Heartshovel tried to welcome their Princess properly. They scrounged together a choir of colts and fillies to sing off-key, set up a discolored banner on main street, and set aside the town’s meeting hall to host her party. It was a wooden, off-white building with dust-streaked windows. Even the griffons came to see her and share their one joke about the town.
“Is it called Heart’s Hovel or Heart Shovel? Can you settle the question, Princess of Ponies?” The old griffon had used the same joke last year, and spat her title with a crooked grin.
"You may call it what you wish. It is your home as well," Flurry replied, sweeping her wings to include the combined crowd. There was less mockery from the griffons afterwards.
Princess Flurry Heart didn’t care about the celebration. She didn’t care that the gifts ranged from mining equipment to rare emeralds stolen from the mine. She didn’t care that the party was clearly meant for the Princess her ponies fondly remembered, the little foal that giggled at anything vaguely funny and struggled with big words.
She was their Princess, and that meant her birthday was not about her.
In every town she visited, the gifts would be accidentally left behind and the food would be given out to her colts and fillies. She would see the miners that had been crippled in the frequent accidents, heal what she could with her limited magic, and collapse during the ride to the next town. She would repeat the process until she returned to Weter, where she would attend the Aquileian veteran’s meeting to thank the griffons that served with her father. She would listen to stories about the old Discret Kings and the Republicans. She would end her birthday on the radio, thanking pony and griffon alike for their hospitality.
Thorax and some disguised changelings traveled along with her volunteer guard. Flurry didn’t now the exact number of changelings, but she trusted Thorax. Queen Chrysalis remained silent on Flurry’s presence in the north, but her spies sought her ruthlessly. Flurry Heart learned Twilight’s changeling detection spell from Dusty Mark before her eleventh birthday.
There had been one attempt last year, the first year she started her tour. Flurry Heart stayed in Evergreen for a night; it was the largest Pony town in the mountains and three days from the border. Thorax’s agents were struggling to secure the area, but Flurry wanted to get some rest before returning to Weter and dismissed his concerns. A Changeling spy poisoned her soup, probably to knock her out at night and abduct her with some other agents.
Flurry gave it to a homeless foal begging outside her hotel.
He collapsed within a minute after thanking her profusely and taking a sip.
Poison for alicorns wasn’t the same as poison for foals. He lived, only thanks to Thorax carrying several antidotes as a paranoid precaution.
The hotel waived the damage Flurry did to their kitchen. The Changeling spy died choking on a cyanide capsule, still in his chef’s hat. The real chef was tied up in the pantry, terrified and nearly decapitated by Flurry’s magical blast that obliterated the outer wall. No other spies were discovered, and a Changeling broadcast from Canterlot dismissed it an act of terrorism by a rogue agent. President Blackpeak gracefully accepted the excuse on Flurry's behalf.
Rioting broke out among the towns Flurry visited.
On her eleventh birthday, Princess Flurry Heart could’ve called her ponies to war, but she instead returned to Weter with Thorax.
“Next year, we will double our agents, Princess,” he had pleaded. “I swear it.”
Thorax only called her Princess when he was upset.
“No, it was a mistake.”
“The trip did so well, Princess. Take it from a changeling, everywhere you visited was happier and more hopeful than it had been in years.”
“Now they riot, but I wasn’t talking about the trip. I made a mistake,” Flurry said in her room. She had her own one-room apartment on the second-floor, across from Thorax. He wasn’t home very often, but there were enough guards at all hours, day or night. It was on the inside of the building, with no windows and one door, with one vent for a tiny stove. The only amenities were a private shower and toilet, which was a luxury for the tenement and the ghetto.
“It was my job to know about the soup.”
“No,” Flurry replied on her bed. She stared up at an old Wonderbolt poster on the ceiling and wondered if Rainbow Dash was alive. “That would never have happened if I didn’t demand to stay the night."
Thorax didn't refute her. His wings buzzed uncomfortably.
"Next year, I sleep on the road and we take different roads between the towns," Flurry said. "No known schedule. I start the visits two weeks before my birthday and we pass by some towns then circle back. We go to Heartshovel on my birthday, then return directly to Weter.”
Thorax thought about it. “That will be difficult.”
“What do you suggest?”
“No, I meant it will be difficult for you,” Thorax said. Flurry blinked and raised her head off her lumpy pillow.
“You won’t get much sleep between towns,” Thorax began slowly. “You’ll end up visiting some of them at night, some during the day. Ponies will be happy to see you anytime, but we'll be always be on the move. Are you sure you want to do this?”
“Yes,” Flurry replied. “Set the alarm for an hour. I need to go down to Weter Radio to stop the rioting and announce that I believe the Changeling was a rogue agent.” She yawned. “It’s good Chrysalis can’t detect lies over the radio.”
It had been a good plan, and it worked well, but Flurry dreaded the ride out of Heartshovel on the dirt road through the mountains. She slumped in the back of the truck and removed her party hat. Her dress, a simple white-frilled blue skirt, was flecked with brown and black stains from dirt and coal, plus a smudge of icing from a hug.
Dusty Mark and a few of her guards climbed into the old troop carrier after her. Dusty Mark was technically an unemployed mercenary, along with nearly a third of the ponies living in the ghetto in Weter. The rest worked in the armories. Flurry Heart had a core guard of almost a hundred Equestrians and Crystal Ponies that patrolled the ghetto as a militia. Money came in from somewhere Thorax didn’t want Flurry to know about to support her guards and their families, but she trusted him enough not to pry.
"I hate this truck," Flurry groused. "The other two don't jump around as much."
"I don't think it will make a difference on this road, Princess," Frosty Jadis replied. She was the crystal mare that knelt to Flurry Heart while sobbing on the ship two years ago. Her leg had healed poorly. She couldn't gallop, but she could hit a target at extreme range and was the most devoted of Flurry's guard. She closed the back doors of the truck and peered out the reinforced glass. Three trucks traveled with Flurry, and she changed trucks every stop, sometimes on the road as well.
If the worst happened and they were attacked, Flurry could teleport. Flurry's teleportation wasn't exactly stable, but she had been told to immediately jump away if ordered to by her guards. She couldn't take anypony with her yet, not like her Aunt Twilight. Something to work on, Flurry reminded herself.
Flurry leaned her head back. "Wake me in Weter." Her curls began to bounce as the truck moved.
"It's a long drive. We'll change trucks before we hit the main road," Dusty replied.
"Don't wake me. Just toss me in the back of the truck," Flurry commanded. They woke her up anyway. She took the opportunity to pop her wing joints and pee on the side of the road, hiking up her skirt.
Dusty and Jadis looked away with serious muzzles, scanning the forest.
My loyal guards, Flurry rolled her eyes. I'm still their Princess as I squat on the side of the road. She suppressed a laugh.
The trip back continued through the night. Her little convoy stopped once, blocked by fallen logs from a flatbed truck in a narrow pass. The poor griffon that tried to flag down the first truck was nearly shot. Flurry summoned a blue bubble shield over the convoy as Thorax and her guards secured the area and forced the driver to the ground.
"He's taking the stuff to Evergreen and the straps broke," Thorax summarized, returning from the griffon. "Not a Changeling. We'll reverse and take the side path."
"That could be a trap," Dusty suggested.
"If there's a trap, he doesn't know about it. I questioned him thoroughly," Thorax replied. The griffon slumped up against the door of his truck with a bloody beak, glaring through the shield. He looked away when Flurry glanced at him.
"I'll help him," Flurry declared. She waved at the griffon to approach with a wing. His eyes widened and his wings twitched against his overalls. He seemed to decide against trying to fly away and slowly approached.
"Princess, we don't have time," Thorax argued. Flurry ignored him and watched the griffon cautiously reach a claw out and pass it through the shield.
"I'll be quick," Flurry replied. She pulled him by the claw towards her with her magic. His wings flared as he tried to pull back, but it was pointless to fight an alicorn, even a filly. She let him go a few hooves away from her. He fell to the ground and stayed down.
The griffon glanced fearfully at the armed guards and held out his claws. "Please, Princess," he pleaded. "I did not mean to ruin your birthday. I work with many ponies. I saw you at Evergreen three days ago. I gave you a gift: fine carpentry tools."
"You ruined nothing." Flurry fired a beam of magic at his beak. He squawked in shock, clutching at it with both claws before blinking.
"I'm not the best with healing spells," Flurry admitted, "but you will not need a doctor." Flurry dispelled the shield and seized the fallen logs in her magic, stacking them back on the flatbed of his truck. She ignored the twinge of pain in her horn. She lifted the truck and the logs together and moved them to the side of the road. The logs rested uneasily in the flatbed, so Flurry fired a large blue bolt and glued the logs to the flatbed.
Flurry blinked stars from her eyes and swallowed, looking down at the stunned griffon. "That spell will only last a few hours on something that big," she said with a slight rasp. "You're going to Evergreen?"
"Yes, Princess, to the lumber yard."
"What's your name?"
"Gunner, Princess. I am from the hills. I welcomed many ponies when they came during the war." He stood up and wiped the blood from his beak on his overalls, trying to smile at Flurry.
Thorax snorted next to him and Gunner clacked his beak shut.
"Please wait for us to pass," Flurry said apologetically.
"Of course, Princess," the griffon moved to approach Flurry, then thought better of it when Jadis conspicuously checked her rifle. He instead nodded and swept his wings in a bow before returning to his truck.
Flurry's legs collapsed out from under her once she climbed back into her own truck. Jadis leaned her against the side and wrapped her in a blanket while Thorax and Dusty looked on.
"That was too much magic, Princess," Dusty chided her.
"I'll be able to sleep until Weter for sure," Flurry responded. "I saved time anyway."
"Can you still teleport?" Thorax asked.
Flurry nodded. She looked out the reinforced glass and saw Gunner wave at the passing trucks.
"You know he was lying about welcoming ponies, right?" Thorax asked as he followed Flurry's eyes.
"Did he lie about giving me a gift in Evergreen?" Flurry questioned back. "Did he lie about working with ponies?"
Thorax paused and shook his head. "Lots of griffons gave you things this year, Princess."
"Rightly so," Jadis huffed. "Our Princess spends more time helping them like they're her own ponies, than any griffon from Weter. They should remember who'll cure their coal lung and set their broken bones for free when she visits."
Flurry closed her eyes as the truck trundled down the rough road. Her curls were matted with sweat and she needed to shower when they made it back to Weter.
I am a Princess of Ponies, and my ponies must always come first, Flurry reminded herself, but many griffons suffer beside them. I will help them when I can, she promised.
They are not my subjects by right. But when the time comes, they will be my subjects by choice.