She'd held it back long enough; Twilight was a grown bicce. She couldn't treat her like a foal anymore...and yet...
Celestia took a sip from her shaking teacup, tears on the edge of once dry eyes. It was hard. It shouldn't be, but it was. She couldn't cry though - not on her daughter's eighteenth birthday. This wasn't about her, but...that book, that damnable book!
The only book she'd ever hidden from Twilight.
The only book of its kind.
The only book about him.
It was a threadbare thing. Even the best preservative spells had limits, and the pony hide cover was shredded and peeling in places for a start. Even so, the title was clear as her sun.
'The Legend of The Thin White Duke'
Trust the Griffons to take an interest in a fellow predator's history.