Radical racer jacket? Check. Choice mullet? Check. Allowance? Double-check. After stashing a bundle of bits into his pocket, Fancy Pants flashed a winning smile to himself in the mirror. He was ready to hit the town. Avoiding detection, he snuck out of his room, past the master, and down the stairs to the foyer. In a few scant steps, he’d be out of the mansion and nopony would be any the wiser. The night was young and so was Fancy.
“And where do you think you’re going, shug?”
Fancy seized up at his mother’s voice and lowered his hoof, cursing his rotten luck. Tilting his head slowly skyward, his mother, the Sensational Sauna Summers, was casually roosting in the foyer’s chandelier, waiting for him to leave.
“Out,” he answered succinctly.
“Yeah, I can see that,” Summers said as she fluttered towards her sharply-dressed colt. “But where do you think you’re going?”
“I said out.”
“Mhmm. Trying to play it vague while dressing in vogue,” she observed as she inspected Fancy’s radical popped collar and thick shoulder pads. At least it was a step above her usual bare burnt orange colors. For being a mare, his mother never seemed to put on a single scrap of clothing outside her performances. “Let’s simplify the situation. Tell me, how old are you again?”
“I’m almost fifteen, mother.”
“Exact-o-poso-tively my point. ‘Almost’ ain’t close enough for the Drive, got it?”
“I never said I was going to Dressage Drive.”
“Coulda fooled me with your jingle-jangling all the way down the hall like you did.”
The queen pulled on Fancy’s jacket to rattle the bits in his pocket. The rebellious colt slapped his mother’s hoof away and grunted in annoyance. “Okay, hotshot. Who do you think you’re gonna meet up with?”
Fancy returned the favor with a sigh of his own. “Do we really have to do this, mother? I’m practically working for the Princess already. What’s another two months?”
“I don’t care that Celly wants to put your talents to a good use for once when she’s able. I’m asking you where you think you’re going this time of night, dressed to the nines.”
“I’m ‘gonna’ see my friends, mother,” Fancy spat and rolled his eyes from the questioning.
“Now I know that’s a lie. They ain’t any friends of yours.”
“And how would you know them anyway?”
“Trust me, I don’t need to know ‘em to know a thing or two about those kinds of ‘friends’ you’ve been with. I can tell who’s real and who’s talkin’ jive. Been there, Sugar Bear.”
“Good gracious, mother. Would you talk sense instead of that antiquated slang speech you always insist on using? And knock it off with that Sugar Bear nonsense!”
“You hear yourself, shug?” Summers snickered at the accusation. “You may look ready to take on the world tonight, but even I know your square lingo could use some work.”
Fancy snapped his mouth shut and looked away. He wasn’t going to be lectured by his mother of all ponies about what was and wasn’t cool.
Seeing his unresponsiveness, she closed her eyes and took a calming breath. “Look here Fancy, I can spin that flowery fakery all night if I need to, but I’m choosing to be real with you, unlike those so-called friends of yours on the Drive.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. They like me, mother. They like what I can do for them. What’s wrong with that?”
“What’s wrong is that ain’t friendship.”
“It’s not about friendship. It’s about having fun! I am thoroughly enjoying my time with them, unlike this conversation I’m having with you. Perhaps that’s why all of yours left,” Fancy added with a sneer.
Summers flinched, but forced a laugh as she pulled her curly, dark blue hair out of her face to give Fancy her full attention. “You always know just what to say, don’t you, boy?” She threw her wing over her larger son and hugged him even if he wasn’t reciprocating. “You know, you might be right about that. Still, I don’t want you just having fun. All I want is for you to be happy.”
“You make it sound like those are mutually exclusive.”
“Ain’t supposed to be, but that’s how things shake out sometimes, shug,” Summers clarified. “They’ll keep telling you otherwise, but that ain’t right. Joy is making a real friend smile freely. It’s worth far more than every bit you can blow on having cheap fun with the ones you bought, you feel me?”
“Fine,” Fancy huffed and stepped out from under Summers’ tender wing. The embittered stallion started his long walk back to his room.
“Where’re you going? The front doors over here.”
Fancy arched an eyebrow and looked between his mother and his mahogany escape to the outside. “Wasn’t this whole venture of yours to stop me?”
“I ain’t nopony’s fool, hot shot.” Summers flashed a smile as she stepped away from the door. “You’re just gonna ‘cruise’ out later. I’ve been hot stuff too before,” Summers bragged with a wink.
“Okay then, mother.” Fancy trotted towards freedom from his overbearing mother. “I’m going out.”
“Okay, Fancy Pants. Just…” Summers trailed as she held a hoof out. Putting it down, she walked over to Fancy. “Just, do your ‘antiquated’ mom one lil’ favor, kay?”
Fancy sighed and looked back with his patience quickly draining. “I suppose. What is it?”
Fancy stirred from under his covers with a groan. He had a terrible, yet familiar headache; one he hadn’t felt for many years. What he didn’t recall about hangovers was the feeling of overwhelming exhaustion. Instead of a solid thumping buck to the head, he suffered a gnawing fatigue and numbing pain.
“It’s been quite a long time since I’ve had to come fetch you from someone else’s abode.”
“Dapper? Is that you?” Fancy mumbled, trying to shake the drowsiness away.
“Yes sir. Here, drink this. It’ll be rough going down, but it should help.”
Fancy kept his eyes shut while Dapper helped him swallow a foul smelling liquid. It felt like some sort of slimy medicine that refused to be drunk easily. Forcing it back, Fancy smacked his lips trying to get the awful taste to leave his mouth. “Merciful heavens, what in Celestia’s name was that?”
“A parting gift from Princess Luna, sir.”
It took a moment for the sludgy feeling to crawl down his throat before the memory of Luna’s last “gift” to Vinyl came to mind. Fancy’s eyes shot open as he sat up in bed. The world was still feeling about fifteen degrees off, but he saw the dreaded, tendril-stained glass of eldritch liquid he remembered Vinyl bemoaning.
“Try not to raise your voice,” Dapper placated before Fancy could ask what was going on. “We wouldn’t want to wake Miss Cypriel.”
Fancy blinked away the bleariness and looked down the bed. The massively long, minotaur-sized bed. The tell-tale signs of Minoan architecture towered all around him with high, yet confining walls built with blackened cobblestones. The foreboding stonework was completely offset by familiar, homely touches. A beautiful vase filled with glowing moondrop lilies rested upon a violet doily with silver frills. There were cherry wooden bookshelves brimming with novels and cookbooks next to an enormous lounging chair and fireplace. The only truly Minoan piece was the traditional family weapon mount, but in the place of claymores and warmaces hung a metal soup ladle and grilling spatula.
At the foot of the bed rested the owner of the dark and adorable dungeon, Athena Cypriel. His caring friend had passed out on her bed, still fully dressed in her Labyrinthiyum uniform while watching him.
“If you’re able, please move so I may lay Miss Cypriel down. She deserves a bit of rest after what you put her through last night.”
Fancy nodded solemnly. He began extracting himself and noticed he had been stripped bare. He wasn’t sure where his suit had been taken. Forgetting the size difference in his clothing confusion, Fancy forgot the increased elevation and fell to the floor. He’d stayed with the minotaurs before, but Athena’s living space was on another level of large. The two, full-grown stallions measured up like foals in comparison.
Dapper hovered Athena into place with careful precision while struggling under the minotaur’s weight. After laying her in the bed, he scanned her with his magic to clean her fur and clothes. He draped the covers over Athena, allowing him to magically undo all of her work clothing, fold them, and slip a night gown over her covered body to maintain her minotaur modesty.
“And here I’d almost forgotten how good you were at butlering,” Fancy whispered as the dandy fluffed Athena’s pillow and tucked her in on all sides.
“Top of the class my graduating year from Canterlot Academy, sir. Plus, you gave me several years of practice.” Finally, he withdrew a tin from his pocket containing an assortment of various dried flower petals. He took a sample of lavender and whipped them into the air, quietly bursting them in a flash of magic to scatter its calming scent around the room. “There. Now, let us let your caretaker of the evening get some rest this morning.”
The two stallions slipped out of the room, leaving Athena to get some well-deserved rest. Before shutting the door, Dapper grabbed Fancy’s neatly folded suit from the nearby desk and draped it over his master’s withers.
“This way, sir.” Dapper motioned for Fancy to follow as he led the way through a small maze of corridors. A few winding turns later, they found themselves next to the Labyrithiyum’s storage cellar on the far side of the restaurant’s kitchen.
“Miss Cypriel has given you permission to remain here for as long as you need. I’ve already taken the liberty of paying your tab and compensation for the evening, so if you decide to leave, we simply need to lock the door behind us. No need to move those intimidating slabs outside. Now, would you prefer tea, coffee, or water, sir?”
Fancy chuckled at the graciousness of their hostess. After putting her through whatever nightmare he had, Athena still offered them her home. “I think I’ve already imposed far too much, Dapper.”
“Ice water it is then,” the vigilant servant declared and began pouring a glass for the recovering stallion. “If you feel that way, why don’t you start straightening up your side of the bar while I clean the kitchen?”
Fancy nodded and trotted out to his usual seat. Fortunately, there wasn’t much of a mess to clean up. The last serving of brandy was sitting in place, faithfully waiting for him to return to its comforting, dulling embrace. He felt more like throwing the offending snifter into the nearest wall, but opted to levitate it to the sink. Next to a knocked over bottle of Griffonstone Brandy sat the stress quartz Vinyl had carved for him. He took the weighty crystal in his hooves and wondered what it was doing out of his coat pocket.
“You gave the poor girl quite a fright, you know.” Dapper admonished, startling Fancy from his introspection. The butler had hoisted himself onto the other side of the bar to give Fancy his water and a stern frown. “According to Miss Cypriel, you walked in looking absolutely ragged and took a seat at the bar. Then, you ordered a bottle of Griffonstone, then another, then another, until you finally succumbed to that fourth bottle you’ve got there.”
“I owe Athena more than an apology.” Fancy twirled the curious quartz in his magic. As he gazed at its cloudy interior, he started to remember. “I had this out before everything went black.”
“She mentioned you were staring at a crystal towards the end of the night.” Dapper inspected the rock for himself. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen it before. Where did it come from?”
“It was a gift. From Vinyl.” Fancy ran his magic over its surface. The mare had made it in seconds, but the thought that went into it wasn’t so fleeting. It bore an edge to feel one’s magic run across, but not enough to get caught in a pocket. It was light enough to carry without much effort, but too heavy to levitate without noticing. It was a perfectly crafted lump of rock. “It’s rather calming.”
The butler’s mustache fluttered with a harumph. “Perhaps to you. Athena was unnerved by your sudden fixation on it. Interesting to think you could upset such a large creature.” Dapper looked over his shoulder, taking in the space behind him. “Come to think of it, everything back here is quite enormous, not even mentioning Miss Cypriel’s personal chambers. The scale is closer to the Dragon Lands than Minossus, wouldn’t you say? It even steps down on this side behind the bar. Really gives you some perspective on Princess Celestia calling us all her ‘little ponies,’ doesn’t it?”
Breathing a sigh of relief, he sat back in his seat. “Athena goes rather far to look smaller than she is. Always needlessly worried about her size in Equestria.”
“That’s a shame. She seems like such a lovely girl. In fact, she’s why I’m here in the first place.”
“Honestly, I’m surprised she knew to get you. I don’t believe you’ve met.”
“In passing once I believe, but she didn’t summon me,” the butler corrected. “Princess Luna herself graced me with her presence in my dreams. Unfortunately, it was to tell me that your recklessness had sent her poor friend into a panic. Her highness teleported me directly here once I’d gotten ready.”
Fancy turned the quartz around and began polishing the other side.
Receiving silence, Dapper continued. “As you’ve gotten older, you’ve gotten much better at emptying bottles while bottling yourself up.”
“It’s better than the belligerent drunk alternative,” Fancy scoffed halfheartedly.
“I suppose in some way you’re right. In others, it’s hard to know when to cut you off, and even harder to tell you to do so. Not much of an improvement I’d say, sir.” Fancy didn’t need to see behind Dapper’s bushy eyebrows to know the troubled glare he was giving him. “Now, mind telling me what drove you to leave Prince Blueblood’s charity of the month and drain Miss Cypriel’s brandy reserves?”
Fancy chuckled at the jab at the cheap philanthropy, but ultimately shook his head. “It’s nothing you need to worry about.”
“Then you should get that nothing out of your system,” the dandy insisted.
Fancy flipped the quartz around in his magic before stowing it safely in his coat’s pocket. “While I appreciate the offer, it’s better this way.”
Dapper waited for a few moments to see if Fancy would change his mind, but ultimately accepted the unspoken command to drop it. “As you wish, sir, but it would be remiss of me to agree.”
“Perhaps, you’re right.” Fancy was too tired of it all to disagree.
“With all due respect, it’s not that I’m right, sir. It’s that you’re most assuredly, absolutely, and unequivocally wrong,” the stubborn stallion groused. “Our presence in the young lady’s restaurant this morning should be proof enough. If the master could see you now—”
“I do not need you bringing up Suede,” Fancy bit back.
“Then perhaps you’d rather I invoke the name of the good mistress?”
Fancy clenched his jaw, his magic diving back into his coat to the quartz. “I’m sure Mother would be disappointed. I know I am.”
“Perhaps she would be at first. However, I believe that she’d be far more relieved to have found you safe with a friend who cares enough to tattle on you,” Dapper teased. “Such a shame that I’ll have to reset the board now when we get back.”
“Board?” Fancy pondered to himself for a moment before he recalled the sign from his wild youth. “You don't mean that old incident board, do you?”
Dapper heaved an overly-disappointed sigh. “And to think, you were doing so well too, sir. 4,272 days in-counting without me being called to collect you. A pity, really.”
Fancy’s jaw dropped. There was no way the stubborn stallion would—no, stubborn was enough of a reason. “Fine. And just when was the last time you had to reset the board for me being a bad colt?”
“Griffonstone, but it was more of a technicality than anything.”
“Griffonstone? You don’t mean the drinking contest against that churlish Crowell character, do you?”
“I don’t recall his name, only an ill-mannered black bird that you drank under the table, but not without great personal cost to your liver,” Dapper reminisced. He stood on a box and saluted his master. “You fell valiantly in the line of duty for the glory of Equestria, sir.”
“A sacrifice I was willing to make.”
“Indeed. If she’d been there, Lady Summers would’ve been proud after I’d given her a solid explanation for dragging you back to your bed.”
Fancy felt the need to polish again. “You can stop now, Dapper.”
“I could, but I shouldn’t. Lady Summers isn’t here to talk sense into you, so it falls to me to get you to talk, young colt,” Dapper said with pride. “Well, it’s either that or I’ll be receiving a forcible retirement today. Barring the old bird’s gloating, it’s a win-win either way, I suppose.”
“You obstinate old fool,” Fancy cursed with a smile.
“Master Fancy Pants!” Dapper uttered aghast. “You should know that buttering me up with compliments will get you nowhere.”
Fancy smiled to himself, relenting to the unmovable rock on the other side of the bar. “If you must know, I’m once again learning Mother’s wisdom far too late, Dapper. Far, far too late.”
Fancy took out his little black planner and began idly flipping through pages. It was the most recent iteration of his itinerary, reaching all the way back to a little after the last Summer Sun Celebration. Names, dates, and plans were scribbled down in short-hoofed detail. A business move here, a key investment there, it all seemed so important and the time. He wasn’t a good son, but he was being a good steward of his family’s fortune.
Summer faded into fall as he kept turning. More functions, more meetings, more money. He stopped when he reached the beginning of winter and the Festival of Flakes. From there, every day became a highly detailed series of notes. Each conversation was planned to absolve Vinyl of wrongdoing. He thought it had made a difference in some way, but last night had proved otherwise.
Then there was the remaining scrap of torn paper where Hearth’s Warming should’ve been. Fancy wondered if Vinyl still had it or if she had thrown the invitation to interview away. He’d been so stressed that evening, he scrawled the whole thing by hoof. After that, there were a scant few uneventful entries regarding tea with the princesses and one brief art event.
Then he came upon last night’s entry simply entitled “Prince Event”. No big plans, no intentions, just his attendance and the amount of bits he was donating in case he forgot the amount. Three pony’s names had been listed that he wanted to be sure to talk to: Photo Finish, Hoity Toity, and Regal Cents. He’d spoken to two last night, and knowing what he knew now, the third wouldn’t have helped anyway. The party was supposed to be his return to prominence; the reascendance of the Kingmaker. The fact that he had bothered him the most.
“If you’ll excuse me, Dapper, I feel the headache beginning to subside.”
“Of course, sir. I’ll finish cleaning up here.”
Fancy pushed himself away from the bar and headed towards the bathroom. As he passed into the alcove, he noticed a trash can meant for paper towels. Seeing it held equal importance, Fancy sparked a corner of his planner with a simple magefire spell. Once the little black book was nothing but ashes, he dropped the remains inside with the rest of the useless garbage.
After locking up and leaving a thank you note for his gracious friend, Fancy and Dapper emerged from the restaurant’s depths into the midmorning sunlight. Despite the lingering churn from Luna’s terrifying remedy, Fancy was feeling oddly refreshed.
“It’s a bit of a late start, but you still have plenty of time to make the most of the lovely day Princess Celestia has provided for us all, wouldn’t you say, sir?” Dapper remarked.
Fancy nodded, but said nothing.
Dapper looked over his master’s choice of garb, or rather, the lack thereof. “Are you sure you don’t want to put your suit on, sir? It’s not too bad in the sun, but I imagine the shade might get a bit nippy.”
Fancy inspected his bare self. It wasn’t often that he ventured out without his suit on. In fact, he couldn’t recall the last time he’d gone without clothes at all. Fancy had unceremoniously wadded his suit up like an old T-shirt and stuffed it inside a paper takeout box slung over his shoulder. He was disrobed, unclothed, dressed down like a commoner, even forgoing his trusty monocle.
Fancy took a deep breath, filling his lungs with the crisp air of Mount Canterhorn. “You know what? It’s fine, I’m not feeling very kingly today.”
“As you wish, sir. At least let me fold your suit—.”
“Horsefeathers, Dapper. I’ve got plenty of these at home, and there’s plenty more where it came from!” Fancy bumped the box with his shoulder, bouncing the suit within. “Besides, Mother didn’t wear clothes all the time, and nopony ever spoke ill of her.”
“No they didn’t, sir. I was simply wanting to make sure you were feeling alright.”
Fancy laughed too hard at the idea. “You know, I’d love to ensure that as well, but I can’t make predictions about myself.”
“What do you mean, sir?” Dapper asked with a rising brow and matching concern.
“Don’t worry about it.” Fancy waved it away and waved for Dapper to join him. “Come, let’s go for a walk. As you said, it’s a lovely day.”
Fancy took a deep, bracing breath and began a ginger trot down the street. Shortly afterwards, Dapper fell in closely behind, following at a proper distance. Fancy turned his head towards his companion after a few paces and furrowed his brow.
“Dapper? What are you doing?”
“Walking with you, sir.”
“I can see that. What are you doing back there?”
“Assuming my station behind you, sir.”
Fancy brought a hoof to his forehead. “Dapper. How often do we simply take a walk? Just the two of us?”
The butler rubbed his chin as he pondered. “I suppose the answer to that would be never, sir.”
“Well, if it’s as lonely back there as it is up here, then why don’t you join me?”
“O-of course. Right away, sir.” Dapper picked up the pace and joined his master’s side.
“And, would you just stop with that for now?” Fancy added with growing frustration.
“Stop with what, sir?”
“Stop with the sirs. In fact, until I say otherwise, disregard decorum completely.”
Dapper gasped at the sheer audacity of the request. “But, sir, we’re in public! There is a difference between breaking rules in the privacy of a residence and outside for all to see!”
Fancy rolled his eyes at the dandy’s duty to be eternally dapper. “As I said before, Dapper, I’m not feeling very kingly today.”
“Then how are you feeling, sir?”
“Not very kingly, not terribly fancy, and most certainly not pantsed.” Fancy Pants shook one of his exposed hind legs for emphasis. “To be honest, I think I’m mostly uncomfortable, so stop it.”
“As you wish…” Dapper coughed through his desire to add “sir” to the sentiment. He adjusted his tie, and brushed some nervous sweat off his brow. “What would make you feel comfortable?”
“Well, only a few steps in and I’m starting to regret my choice of side bag.” Fancy adjusted his shoulder, trying to find an impossible angle for his takeout box to rest comfortably. He’d need another one. “We’re close to the Drive, right?”
“You’d know better than I. I haven’t been on this side of Canterlot for several years.”
Fancy reached into the box and pulled his pocketbook out. “How about we take a little detour?”
Fancy held a garishly bright blue jacket up to a trifold mirror. Analyzing the finer details of his selection, it bore a unique style that was all its own, boldly telling all who gazed upon it “this is a jacket from two decades ago”. It was quite the bold statement.
“Hey Dapper?” Fancy asked.
He swapped to the older white one he was debating between. They both looked just as dated, but he still enjoyed the classic look. Unfortunately, his talents were doing nothing for him as he knew that both would be equally terrible decisions.
“Yes, Fancy Pants?” Dapper answered.
The blue was in slightly better condition of the two fashion disasters, but the white looked a bit more modern despite its older age.
“Do you remember having a midlife crisis?”
Blue seemed a little lighter and breathable.
“I don’t recall having one. I’ve always felt rather fulfilled serving you and your family.”
White looked warmer, comfortable, and easy to wear.
“Drat. I was hoping to have somepony to draw from.”
Blue jacket.
“They’re actually quite rare among ponies. I suppose it’s one of the benefits of our cutie marks. From what Julia told me of her father’s, you should still be a few years off from having one.”
White jacket.
Dapper leaned over Fancy’s shoulder as the Kingmaker compared the awful selections. “Do you suspect you’re going through one right now?”
Blue.
“Perhaps,” Fancy replied, consumed by all of his terrible choices. “I think this is what one might feel like.”
White.
“I’m utterly stumped,” Fancy complained and turned to get a second opinion. “Blue or white?”
Dapper sighed and shook his head. “My gut tells me neither, considering we’re in a thrift store, but I don’t believe that is the point of this exercise.” The butler looked between the two options and shrugged. “Wouldn’t you rather pick a contrasting color that doesn’t blend with your coat?”
Fancy smiled widely. “You’re absolutely right!” He held up his selection to Dapper’s faded blue coat. “I think you look better in white, too.”
The stallion blinked as he took the white jacket in his magic, looking between it and his master curiously. “This is for me?”
“I can’t have you overdressed for a simple outing. Though, now that I think about it, I would feel odd being the bare-boned stallion out of the two of us. Maybe I should get something for myself after all.”
Turning away from the changing platform, he was met with the rest of Thrifty Bits’ Thrifty Emporium. The aptly named store had been a staple of the area for years, selling and reselling all manner of things that nopony wanted anymore. Fancy had stumbled upon the place back in his wild stallion days. Back then, it carried clothes from Suede’s era, but now it was his turn for his youth’s apparel to line the bargain racks.
Over the years, Thrifty Bits had expanded to carry a wider array of used goods. Records, crystals, sound equipment, and other retired nightclub junk was strewn about Thrifty Bits in the hopes of selling the Drive’s trash as treasure. As he approached the register, Fancy felt right at home.
“Is there something I can help with, Sir Fancy Pants, sir?” a young teen asked, his crackly voice betraying his shot nerves. The pegasus had broken out into a cold sweat the moment he recognized the famous pony casually strolling through the store.
“I’m still browsing, but I wanted to go ahead and buy this jacket for my friend here.” With a fluid flash of magic, Fancy popped open his pocketbook. “Who do I make this check out to?”
“We, uhh, we don’t take checks here, your sirness, sir…” The teen pointed a nervous, brown hoof at the “No Checks, No Refunds” sign next to him as he ducked down for safety.
Fancy nodded knowingly. “Not a problem, my good stallion. You deal with exchanging used items, yes?”
“Uh, yes sir?” the colt cracked back with warbled uncertainty as he slowly stood back up.
“Then how much can you give me for this?” Fancy flopped his takeout box onto the table and unceremoniously dumped his expensive suit out like a hayburger and fries. The other items around the store seemed to fade away in the presence of its fashionable majesty.
“This—is this a Hoity Toity custom select?”
“You have quite the surprising eye for appraisal!” he complimented the colt. Flapping it with his magic, he straightened out the wrinkled suit to show the branding inside. “I suppose the fact it’s a custom fit would hurt its resellability. Tell you what, you can reduce the value since it’d need to be fitted to somepony else.”
“N-no! I mean, no sir Fancy Pants, sir. I’m not sure we have enough bits this morning to deal with a custom Hoity Toity original.” He popped open the register, looking through the paltry rows of coins. “I’m not sure we’d ever have enough bits to take it!”
“That does pose a problem, doesn’t it?” Fancy stroked his chin and looked up in thought. His eyes snapped to a pegasus ponnequin, suspended from the ceiling. Its in-flight, speedster pose was as eye-catching as the classic dive bomber jacket it was wearing. Fancy remembered the look fondly, being popularized by the famous leader, Captain Top Cruiser. He and his stunt wingmare, Commander Danger Zone, were the faces of the Wonderbolts when he was a younger colt. Even if he couldn’t fly, he'd always wanted to be ‘cruisin’ and ‘in the zone’ as the cool colts put it.
“How about a trade instead? You give me this jacket here,” he shook “white” for emphasis before pointing behind the clerk, “and that old bomber one back there with the matching shoulder bag and aviators, and we’ll call it even.”
The cashier descended into further confusion as he looked between the one-of-a-kind business suit and the aged replica. “But sir, that’s nowhere near close—”
Fancy scoffed. “You drive a hard bargain, lad. I’ll throw in what he’s wearing as well,” he offered and pointed his head back to Dapper still in his brown butler uniform.
“I beg your pardon!” the butler exclaimed indignantly.
“What? You’ve got plenty of them at home,” Fancy dismissed outright. “If you need a replacement, I’ll just order you another one or two later.”
“That’s not the point, sir! I’m rather fond of my suits!”
“Sorry, you’re right.” Fancy sighed impatiently as he turned back to the shivering colt. “So, what can I get for just my suit?”
“I-I don’t know!” the colt blurted in an overpriced panic. “This suit is probably worth every piece of clothing in the store!”
“Is that all? Fine. If it’s a problem, let me help you clear out some of your inventory. Pack everything up and deliver it to the ‘Herd Mentality' donation center on 8th street. Or maybe just pick whatever things you’d like to take home today like those nice speakers in the back. I don’t give a single flying—” Fancy felt a tap on his shoulder and looked back to see Dapper glaring at him through raised eyebrows.
“Fancy Pants. A moment, if you would.”
Sensing a confrontation, Fancy nodded and stepped away from the register, leaving the trembling colt juggling the suit, doing his best not to damage it.
“What is it? I’m in the middle of negotiations here.”
“Yes, I can see how you could think that. What I see is you terrifying that poor colt there by dropping an incredibly expensive suit to barter with in a bargain thrift store.”
Fancy shrugged. “They wouldn’t take my check.”
“Then, perhaps it is a sign that it may be wiser to simply wear the clothes we already have and return home?”
“No.”
His master’s bluntness threw the old stallion completely off. “I see…”
“You can head home if you want, Dapper. I’m not leaving without that dive bomber jacket.”
“I thought we came in here for you to find a side bag?" Dapper asked worryingly.
“Plans change, Dapper. Besides, it’s annoying to carry that blasted suit on my shoulder!”
“Blaster? But I offered to carry it for you.”
“I don’t want you carrying it! In fact, I don’t want you wearing that butler outfit either!” Fancy poked a hoof at Dapper’s chest as his patience flared out. “I just want us to be two normal ponies, walking outside, enjoying a lovely day for once!”
The old stallion sighed. “If you’re going to be that way about it, then at least use the funds I prepared for you last night.” The butler reached into his coat and produced a hefty bag of bits. “I didn’t know what to expect at the Labyrinthiyum, so I brought adequate compensation for potential damages rendered.”
Not even acknowledging the reasoning behind the funding, Fancy glowed as he snatched the bundle of cash. “Perfect! I will be sure to pay you back.”
“They’re your bits,” the butler corrected flatly.
“Even better!” Fancy waltzed up to the counter, eying his prizes while smiling confidently. “Okay, my good stallion. Let’s do some proper business.”
One rain of bits later, Fancy and Dapper walked out, dressed to the two’s in their unfashionable outfits. Dapper had done his best to cleanse the apparel of their musty smell, but it’d require proper servicing if their outfits were to be restored to their former glory. It didn’t matter to Fancy though. The Kingmaker smiled confidently as he adjusted his aviators and stepped into the sunlight like a veteran Wonderbolt.
“I can see why Vinyl wears things like these all the time. It’s so much easier on the eyes,” Fancy said as he looked up and down the street while not being blinded by the bleached walls of several buildings.
Dapper sighed as he joined Fancy wearing the white leisure jacket and matching floral undershirt he’d bought him. It had looked fine inside, but in the sun, Dapper looked just about ready for a nap on the porch of a Seaward Shoals retirement home. The bell of the store behind them rang as the pegasus clerk locked up. They both watched the young thrift store employee reverently pick up the pair’s sealed suits before taking to the skies with slow, cautious wing flaps.
“You know, having him air deliver those to the estate slightly undermines the purpose of purchasing a bag to carry your suit comfortably in the first place.”
“They offered same-day shipping. Would you rather lug around your suit in a saddlebag all day?”
“I suppose not, but again, I was perfectly comfortable,” Dapper reminded pointedly.
“Oh, Dapper. A day like today doesn’t call for such overly proper attire. Besides, now I’ve got a bag to bag the bit bag in.” Fancy shifted his shoulder, allowing for the funds to ching against each other. “Come along, you old codger, let’s see what else is going on around here!” Fancy boldly proclaimed, catching the sunlight in his shades. He looked around, not recognizing much of anything in particular after several years of changes. “Any ideas, Dapper?”
“I wouldn’t be able to tell you. I have only passed through here on occasion.”
“And you didn’t stop to take in any of the sights? You’ve always prided yourself on your attention to detail.”
“I was usually more preoccupied with dragging a certain drunk stallion back to his bed.”
“I can see how that might be restrictive.” Fancy scanned his surroundings. They were receiving a few odd looks, but were mostly ignored by the ponies going about their day. Nothing much around them stood out until an ice cream cone carried by a filly caught his eye. “Are you hungry? I could definitely go for something after Luna’s frighteningly effective brew.”
“Very well. What did you have in mind?”
“Something interesting!”
“How vexingly vague,” Dapper complained.
“Just like the good ol’ ambassadorial days, right? Come, let’s take a trot around the block and see what we can find.”
Dapper shook his head as the two set off in search of their next destination. With nowhere particular in mind, Fancy simply did what he did on his jogs and let his hooves carry him to wherever they’d go. After all, most of Canterlot was beautiful, and he was going to enjoy those beautiful parts as much as he possibly could.
“That looks nice.” Fancy followed Dapper’s sights towards an unremarkable salad bar.
“Interesting, Dapper. We’re looking for interesting.”
“I see.” Another quick swivel of his head and Dapper leaned his horn towards a row of tall buildings. “I think that’s a pizza place over there.”
Fancy considered the selection briefly before recognizing the familiar branding of diamond-cut gemstones running down the corners. “No. I believe all of these are Regality properties.”
“Is that somehow a problem?”
“It wasn’t until recently,” Fancy replied nonchalantly. Thinking of the area, most places would be owned by a few moguls that were fighting over the businesses in the area. Fancy didn’t feel like throwing himself into the middle of it. “You know, I do believe much of Restaurant Row is privately owned and operated. It’s only a few blocks from here. Perhaps we might find some more unique offerings?”
“Then, I suppose you should lead the way, Fancy.”
“Three stars. Three stars. Three stars.” Fancy idly commented with disinterest as they passed samey restaurant after samey restaurant.
It seemed that Restaurant Row had fallen into catering towards Canterlot’s elite expectations. Each drab restaurant was the same as the last. The street lacked the creative freedom his mother had championed for in the fight against the restricted rules of the Canterlot Musical Society. If the nobles had gotten their way, the Drive would be just as depressingly boring as the cookie-cutter establishments around them.
“Three is as high as the rating goes around here, I’m afraid,” Dapper noted.
“I know full well how Zesty Gourmand operates. I’ve met her too many times over the years to not. She gave the Labyrithiyum two stars and outright refused to even try Pâte de Lune! Can you believe that nonsense?”
“To be fair, de Lune doesn’t really fall under her column’s full-course restaurant focus.”
“Fair enough, but still. Giving the only Minosan food in Canterlot only two stars? Outlandish! Furthermore, I was the one who recommended her for that critical column in the Canterhorn Courier in the first place!” the indignant Kingmaker complained. “You’d think she’d at least get a coffee at de Lune and tell me if she liked it.”
Dapper raised an eyebrow at the younger stallion. “I didn’t realize it bothered you so much.”
“Well it does now!” Realizing his temper was simmering, Fancy took a calming breath and tried to find his center as he jostled the quartz in his pocket. Just thinking about it was making… making him smell something delicious?
Looking down the street, amid the pale stonework, one orange oasis of a restaurant stood out at the end of an alley. “Oh-hoh! And what do we have here?”
“‘The Tasty Treat, Grand Opening,’” Dapper read aloud on the nearby signage. They looked up to see the goldenrod spires and rounded domes. The curved door flowed upwards towards a zenith that pointed up to a desert flower of flavor blooming overhead. Its welcoming, zesty colors promised to bless its visitors with wondrous flavors. “A rather unique building for the Row. Saddle Arabian?”
“If the architecture matches the scent, I believe it’s actually Maredrasian.” Fancy burned with anticipation of the spicy flavors held within. “What a refreshing little oddity, completely different from its neighbors. Just like the estate,” Fancy praised as he drew closer to the door. He looked up at the freshly carved sign and smiled back at Dapper. “And no stars at that!”
“Fancy, are you certain you want to go into an unrated restaurant?”
He answered with another whiff of the flavorful air. “I’m more than certain. Don’t you smell that medley of exotic flavors? It’s been years since we’ve enjoyed a good bowl of curry.”
“Not to speak ill of an establishment I’ve never tried, but I can’t say I’ve ever enjoyed Maredras’ particular flair for flaring food in the past. It tends to burn away what little taste I have left,” Dapper chortled, trying to mask his hesitancy for eating dishes that could singe a dragon’s tongue.
“If they’ve set up shop here in Canterlot, then I’m sure they’ll have something for more sensitive tongues. If not, we’ll just ask them to bathe your order in coconut milk,” Fancy taunted with a smug grin. “Now, let’s head inside.”
The grand, yet humble exterior did nothing to prepare the two for what laid inside. Fancy beamed as the restaurant was not only Maredrasian, but unapologetically so. Standard wooden seats had been mixed with plush couches and seating cushions, reflecting their homeland so far away. Tapestries hung overhead spun with rolling sunset colors and low-light lamps shining both on the tables below and the ceiling above. The design ensured guests could marvel at the colorful food when eating and the intricate needlework when leaning back to pat their satisfied bellies.
“It doesn’t seem particularly popular,” Dapper remarked, seeing the utter lack of any customers.
“More for us then!” Opting for the local approach, Fancy chose one of the couches himself rather than wait to be seated. After Dapper joined him, they began searching for the menus, but couldn’t find any. Perhaps they served a meal of the day instead of a full selection. Either way, Fancy was looking forward to partaking in an old favorite.
“Hello? Is somepony there?” a lovely voice asked from the back. A few moments later, a beautiful and perplexed unicorn mare poked her head out from behind the kitchen’s bead curtain and looked around for the source of the shuffling. Her purple eyes settled on the two curiously dressed stallions and sparkled with excitement before quickly ducking back inside. “Hey Selestiya! Paapa, I think we have our first customers!”
“Suprabhātam,” Fancy called back. A tripping of hooves followed by a clumsy gallop brought the mare through the curtain to reveal herself in full.
Fancy nearly froze as he got a better look at the mare. A painful nostalgia washed over him seeing the pony’s familiar, burnt orange coat and dark, fluffy mane. She was different enough, especially the unicorn horn and Maredrasian garb, but if the mare dyed her mane blue, she’d almost be a dead ringer for Sauna Summers.
“Svaagat!” the unicorn greeted warmly with a modicum of shock. “I was not expecting our first customers to be Maredrasian. It is so far away from here.”
Fancy snapped back to reality. “Sorry. I’m afraid I’ve only picked up a few phrases during visits to your Saddle Arabian neighbors. I hope we aren’t too early for lunch.”
“No-no! Well… maybe? The business hours are a little up in the air right now.” the mare clarified with a nervous smile. “We only just arrived in Canterlot last week.”
“Oh! Then welcome to the capitol. My name is Fancy and this is Dapper.”
“A pleasure,” the butler bowed with perfect Canterlot decorum.
“My, they did say Canterlot ponies were proper. Even in such… interesting clothes, you still carry yourselves with such dignity!”
“I was in the mood to try all sorts of new things today,” Fancy said as he took in the atmosphere once more. “The Tasty Treat might be just what I need to continue the trend.”
“I see! Then, let me get you some naan to start. Paapa and I are just cleaning up after a late breakfast. Oh, and my own manners! I am Saffron Masala and I will be your cook today.” Saffron smiled wider and stepped away towards the kitchen. “Paapa! You are supposed to host, so host!”
“Coming, coming!” A deeper voice called from the back as a tubby, curry-colored stallion carrying several menus skidded to a halt. Following Éclair’s logic, if the food was as good as the stallion’s girth suggested, they were most certainly in for a tasty treat today. “Good day. My name is Coriander Cumin. Welcome to The Tasty Treat! What can we get started for you?”
“I haven’t had anything since last night, so I am very much ready to fix that,” Fancy said as he looked over the menu. “Aren’t you, Dapper?”
“Provided I am not breathing dragonfire at the end of the day, I suppose my answer would be yes,” the old stallion conceded.
“Wonderful. It has been a long time since I visited your lovely home, so please take us on a culinary adventure, you two.”
Saffron beamed. “Gladly!”
The Tasty Treat did not disappoint. The savory, simmering food of Maredras had swirled around his tongue in a fire dance of flavor. Dapper had taken a more tame chickpea tikka masala while Fancy was sure he would regret sampling almost every curry they had later. He’d have to jog up the entire mountainside to work off that meal.
“A welcome addition to Canterlot’s flavor palate, wouldn’t you say, Dapper?”
“Ask me in a few hours, Fancy.” Dapper burped silently into his foreleg.
“Come now, there was barely any buck to your meal.”
“I think it was simply the fumes emanating from yours. How in the world did you eat all of that without bursting into flames?”
“When diplomacy calls for an iron stomach, you develop one quite quickly,” Fancy bragged with two quick thumps to his chest.
“Stop right there!”
The stallions did as ordered and turned back towards The Tasty Treat. Fancy dipped his aviators to get a better look at Saffron chasing them with Coriander hot on her tail trying to calm her down.
“Oh, Saffron. Is there something wrong?” Fancy asked calmly as she drew closer.
“Vipers!” she shouted and threw a crumpled piece of paper at Fancy’s head. “I should’ve known from your tacky outfits!”
“Tacky?” Sure it was out of style, but that was going a little far.
“Do you take us for fools?” Saffron growled as she readied to charge them with her horn.
“Now, now, Saffron. I say we try cashing it,” Coriander shushed his daughter, trying to gain control of the fiery mare’s nerves. “If it’s real, this could change our lives!”
“Paapa, you saw it yourself. There is no way that they aren’t trying to scam us! Aren’t we struggling enough?” Saffron retorted with a pained disappointment.
“Scam?” Dapper Dandy questioned while grabbing the offending wad of scrap. Unfurling it, the note was clearly one of Fancy’s pocketbook checks. “Now what is this about—sweet merciful heavens!”
Fancy shrugged. “I said I enjoyed the meal.”
“Meal?” Saffron scoffed indignantly. “You just bought the building at least twice over with this much!”
“I suppose I did leave a suspiciously large tip.” Fancy sighed as he grabbed his pocketbook to pen another check. “Shall I remove a zero or two?”
Saffron growled at him. “Just give us what we are owed in real bits and stay away from us!”
“In hindsight, I can see how it could be seen as insensitive,” Fancy remarked as he took the bag of bits out and hovered over to Saffron. “Here. I wasn’t going to use the rest of this anyway.”
Saffron grabbed it out of the air with her magic with a sneer, but nearly dropped it from the unexpected weight. With a cautionary eye trained on Fancy, she glanced down into the bag, but then did a double-take at the staggering amount inside. She reached inside and fished out a cascading amount of bits.
“W-what is this?” the mare muttered in disbelief. “We cannot take this much money!”
“But we could though! Nothing is stopping us,” Coriander argued.
“Band Karo, Paapa!” she chided her father and smacked him gently with the bag before marching up to Fancy. “What are you trying to pull over us? Do all rich ponies think so little of hard work? Why must you do this? We are doing our best!”
“Of course not!” Fancy defended, backing up slightly from her angry advance. I simply have more than I need. I enjoyed your food and would like to keep it in Canterlot.”
“We intend to stay here without your obvious strings attached!”
“There’s not—” Fancy sighed, and gripped the quartz in his pocket. “What I mean is that I’d like you to stay around despite your stiff competition. Zesty Gourmand bears a very particular palate. Without her blessing, you might struggle to find customers, especially here on Restaurant Row.”
“Then we will struggle to succeed by ourselves! I had hoped Miss Gourmand would come around, but if this is true, then don’t throw money at us in pity. Eat and bring friends! I came to Canterlot to share my home’s food, not simply exist here!”
Fancy rubbed the crystal more as he gritted his teeth behind his closed mouth. “Then, think of it as an investment. You’re the only Maredrasian restaurant in town. I’m just getting in on the ground floor.” Saffron narrowed her eyes at his claim. Why was giving a simple gift always such a problem these days? “Of all the—Just take the money already!”
“I refuse!” The mare tied off the top of the bag and threw it at Fancy’s hooves. “Pay me what we are owed and only what we are owed!” the little cook demanded the Kingmaker. “The Tasty Treat is not for sale!”
Fancy blinked at the mare’s fiery conviction burning hotter than her delicious curry. He looked down at the bag, truly a paltry sum of bits to him, and back at the insulted cook. Not long ago, there was a certain DJ who refused to take his money as well. He just couldn’t stop himself, could he? For all of the Kingmaker’s accolades, he really was just a one-trick pony. Fancy couldn’t help but laugh at himself.
“What’s so funny?” Saffron barked.
“I never learn, do I?” Fancy removed his tacky, antiquated aviators and put them in their case. Dapper was right. He needed to stop bottling things up. It wasn’t doing anypony any good. It never did before either. “I’m so sorry, Miss Saffron. You’re right. I should’ve known better. Mares of your caliber are never for sale,” he said, laughing even harder at himself, confusing his onlookers.
“You’d think a retired diplomat would be able to treat such wonderful ponies better.” Fancy took a calming breath and bowed as he should’ve earlier. “If you would allow me to reintroduce myself. My name is Fancy Pants, former Ambassador of Equestria and Envoy of her Royal Highness, Princess Celestia.”
Coriander gasped. “Wait… wait-wait-wait! I know this stallion!” He looked around and spotted an abandoned newspaper at the foot of a competitor’s entryway. “Look! On the front page! I thought I recognized that cutie mark. He’s called the Kingmaker of Canterlot!”
The stallion flashed the front page at his daughter, who gasped at the photo. Fancy almost did as well, but not from the article’s content. He knew what was there. It was the fragile stallion shown on the cover that pulsed his stranglehold on the stress crystal.
Upper Crust coiled around a rather foolish pony, savoring her complete and utter control over him. She wielded the crowns on the sod’s flank as her tool, to strike down her enemy when he was most vulnerable. Fancy shouldn’t have been so surprised, his “friends” had been doing it for years.
“Didn’t quite catch my good side, did they, Dapper?”
Dapper looked solemnly at the picture and then stood at attention for his master. “Sir, what happened at this party?”
“Nothing you need to worry about. Just some very lucrative investments that I’ve come to deeply regret.”
“Fancy—Sir Fancy Pants,” Saffron corrected as she looked over the cover. “You look so…”
“Oh, don’t worry about that. It was quite the hateful slur, and it wasn’t even directed at me. They can’t even print the contemptible thing that foal uttered.” Fancy looked back at the paper, reading Upper Crust’s headline aloud. “‘Regality Racism, Regal Cents Exposed and Deposed?’ Even in our harmonious nation, there are still those that cling to such tired, old prejudices.”
Saffron bit her lip and looked at Fancy. “Did he say anything else?”
Fancy rolled his eyes. “If only you knew the half of it. Regal said many terrible and regrettable things.”
Saffron shook her head and trotted closer to Fancy, looking up at him with her piercing, purple gaze. “Perhaps I should rephrase my question. What did he say to you?”
Fancy opened his mouth, but the words died on his lips. The young mare was so different, yet so similar to the one he’d callously ignored all of those years ago.
“Okay, Fancy Pants. Just…” Summers trailed as she held a hoof out. Putting it down, she walked over to Fancy. “Just, do your ‘antiquated’ mom one lil’ favor, kay?
Fancy sighed and looked back with his patience quickly draining. “I suppose. What is it?”
“Don’t get hurt.”
Caught off-guard by the heartfelt plea, Fancy couldn’t help but laugh as he turned to look at her pitiful eyes. “Seriously, mother? It might be the Drive, but it’s still Canterlot. It’s nothing dangerous, mother.”
“I know, but...” Summers started leaning in to kiss her son goodbye before ultimately deciding against it. “But, please. Don’t let anypony hurt my little Sugar Bear.”
Fancy cleared the frog out of his throat. “To think, Dapper, I worked with Regal Cents for almost ten years, and a complete stranger shows more concern for my well-being in ten seconds than he ever did.” Fancy picked up the discarded bits with his hoof and opened the bag, looking at all the riches inside. It rested rather heavily in his hooves, but felt so empty.
“Miss Saffron? I cannot give you what you want. I have too few friends to share or a word that is worth anything on its own. All I have are bits made by kings and queens.” Fancy felt an urge to put the aviators back on. Perhaps Vinyl was onto something with those shades of hers. “I truly enjoyed eating with you two and Dapper. Not just the food. It was one of the best meals that I’ve shared outside of my home in a while. You can take this. It’s perfectly fine. You’ve more than earned it.”
Fancy tried to levitate the bag, but it dropped to the street in his unstable magic, spilling it all over the ground. He knelt down and tried to sweep it together to offer it. “Please. It’s all I have left.”
Saffron smiled sweetly, but shook her head. “No. It wouldn’t be right. We will accept the bits for the meal, a reasonable tip, and your continued business, Sir Fancy Pants.” The cook reached out a hoof to pull Fancy back up. Once he was on his hooves, she magiced a mass of bits from the ground, counted out the proper tab, and deposited the rest into Fancy’s bag. “Please, come again. We would love to have you and your father as our dear guests.”
Fancy laughed and wiped a tear from his eye. “Oh, did you hear that Dapper? If only I’d have been so lucky! No, Dapper Dandy is my butler and one of my closest companions. I’d be lost without him to keep my head on straight.” Dapper nodded in agreement and bowed once more with dutiful precision. “However, you said something about a reasonable tip?”
Sensing the tide of the conversation, Coriander nodded. “Yes. Thirty percent—”
“Twenty,” Saffron quickly corrected.
“—Twenty percent maximum from you, Sir Fancy Pants. We will fight for our place within Canterlot, with or without your large, life-altering sum of bits.”
“Not to worry, Paapa! All we need to do is earn his fortune by fattening Sir Fancy Pants up like you!” Saffron joked and pecked a kiss on her father’s cheek.
“Please, it’s just Fancy Pants. I haven’t been a Sir for quite some time. However, if it’s a tip you want, I might be able to provide something more useful than bits.”
Fancy closed his eyes and concentrated on a question: What did they need to do to succeed? He tried to envision The Tasty Treat, not an empty store at the back of Restaurant Row, but a thriving business. After a quiet moment of focus, he arrived at an answer.
“I’m afraid that you’ve made a deep mistake setting up your shop on Restaurant Row. The businesses here serve Zesty Gourmand’s taste and those three star ratings are what draw customers to their doors. With her tastes, I am uncertain if she will give your lovely restaurant a fair shake.”
“That’s your tip? There’s nothing we can do about that!” the tubby stallion cursed.
Saffron shook her head. “We will make it, paapa. I know we will.”
“As do I,” Fancy interjected. “I know most restaurants convert themselves in this area to make their businesses work to Zesty’s taste. It’s why they all look the same, serving Canterlot styles of their own food.”
“No! I refuse to sacrifice our flavor on the whims of a single mare!” Saffron objected.
“As you shouldn’t. I like The Tasty Treat as it is now. Warm, unique, and inviting. Which is why you two must double down!” Fancy proclaimed as he stamped the ground to stand defiant against the flow of Canterlot popularity. “Be unapologetic. Don’t just exist as the odd orange gem at the end of the road. Step outside of your walls and offer ponies samples of a food they’ve never tasted before. Show your culinary creativity, Saffron Masala! Shine boldly amid a series of bland, ho-hum restaurants and blast Zesty’s pointless opinion out of the mango lassi!”
Saffron sparkled with the same energy as they did when they had when she saw him and Dapper sitting in their restaurant. “Do you think that will work?”
“My dear, I can guarantee it. Provide samples to passing ponies and let what you have to share spread. I will also be sure to back you up with my continued patronage, of course. I’d be a fool not to. Your family’s cooking is simply brilliant, Saffron.”
Fancy grunted from the sudden impact of the cook embracing him. He’d almost forgotten what it was like to be thanked for his help. The nobles never did. As the lonely kingmaker returned the hug himself, he thought back to the lesson he neglected from his mother. Summers was right, the happy little cook’s joy was priceless.
“I think your word might be worth more than you think, Fancy Pants,” Saffron assured as she broke away. She grabbed her father and bounded like an excited filly. “Come, Paapa! We need to find dishes to make samples! Thank you, Fancy Pants!”
“Think nothing of it, Saffron,” Fancy said as he bowed. “See you soon.”
With an enthusiastic wave, Saffron dashed inside with her father nodding a quick thank you before following her to strategize their sampler publicity campaign. With a satisfied sigh of a job well done, Fancy beckoned Dapper to join his gait as they trotted out of Restaurant Row.
“Smashing use of your kingmaking talents as always, Fancy Pants.”
Fancy laughed and shook his head. “Thank you, but you’re mistaken. That wasn’t a kingmaker decision. I offered them a path that I thought would be more successful.”
Dapper frowned as he pondered Fancy’s answer. “I’m not sure I’m following your logic. What’s the difference?”
“It’s simple really. I want them to succeed, so I wove a different fate.”