//------------------------------// // Part Sixty-Eight // Story: The Princess and the Kaiser // by UnknownError //------------------------------// “Duchess Gabriela is proud to announce that the Herzland is swollen with patriotism,” Grand Duke Gerlach reported. "Griffons await news of your inevitable upcoming victory, my Kaiser." The stormy gray and black griffon dabbed at his blind eye with a cloth; something he did when he was nervous. Knowing Gabriela, Grover snarled in his head, that means it is swollen with discontent. “Thank you, Grand Duke,” Grover said aloud instead. He waved a claw for the griffon to step back. The movement made the Reichstone shift on his head again. The Grand Duke of Feathisia bowed low and returned to the wall of the circular room. Herzland’s spare nobility, Knight-Captains for a half-dozen chapters, and the General Staff of the Griffonian Reich were packed into the fourth floor of a dilapidated tower in the Everfree Forest. Guards watched the broken balcony with readied assault rifles, looking to the sky and down to the castle grounds. Benito actually stood inside the wall of the tower, having knocked a hole into a hidden passageway that spanned the entire height of the old ruin. He leaned against broken cobblestones and sniffed his muzzle, resting a paw on his sheathed sword. Grover spared Benito a glance. “Count Ignatius of Bronzehill,” he called out. The only other dog in the room, the Gray Dog of Bronzekreuz, stepped away from the map pinned to the eastern wall and practically crawled to the centered table. “My Kaiser,” he whimpered in a low voice. The Kaiser beckoned him to rise with an uplifted claw. “Rise. How confident are the engineers that they’ve found all the secret passages in the castle?” “The ponies of a thousand years ago were clever,” Ignatius admitted, “but never as clever as your dogs, my Kaiser.” Not an answer. “I trust the castle is secure?” “It is safe from intruders,” Benito interrupted, “but not age or time. This place is a ruin.” “Simply shameful,” General Thundertail shook his head in a theatrical motion. The speckled griffon laughed from his spot against the wall. “The Sun Princess left this place to rot. I'm sure the Nightmare was thrilled to find it like this.” Hoof steps sounded on the stone stairwell beyond the room, moving quickly. She’s early. Grover clacked his beak. “Dismissed.” The tan griffon waved the Count of Bronzehill back to the wall. He leaned onto the center table and flared his wings, preemptively glaring at the door. Talons dug into the map of the Equestrian Heartlands and disrupted the carefully placed miniature tanks and griffons. The wooden alicorn atop of Mount Canterhorn wobbled, but stayed upright. The hooves stopped outside the door and knocked on the aged wood. “My Kaiser?” a mare asked in Aquileian. One of the knights opened the door to a charcoal unicorn in a gray Reichsarmee uniform with an orange sash. She bowed in the doorway, scraping her horn on the floor. Grover’s feathers flushed in embarrassment and he folded his wings back against his long coat. “Countess Raison,” he announced with a cough. “Report.” “The Princess is here,” she said in lightly accented Herzlander. “She awaits downstairs.” “She’s waiting?” slipped out of Benito before he raised a paw to his muzzle. “Have her scanned and sent up,” Grover ordered. Raison d’Etat visibly hesitated. “The Princess is…indecent,” she stuttered in Aquileian. “Blessed Boreas,” Bronzetail groaned in Aquileian. “She’s not naked, is she?” “No,” Raison nickered, “not technically.” “Send her up,” Grover repeated. "Dismissed." Raison bowed again and trotted rapidly down the stairs. The Kaiser looked to the balcony, watching the slight snowfall over the Everfree Forest. Gallus stood next to the open balcony wearing a full coat, gloves, and boots. “Is the Princess resistant to frost?” Grover asked him in Herzlander. “She’s resistant to everything,” Gallus deadpanned, “including tact and flattery.” Grover took his claws off the table and returned to standing on all fours. “Since the loss of the High Seas Fleet outside Haukland," he changed subjects, "the Hegemony's naval capacity is limited to submarines. Air Marshal Ebonbeak, have we been able to bomb the ports in the Appleoosan Protectorate?” “Our fuel reserves remain rationed, my Kaiser,” Ebonbeak said deferentially. The yellow griffon was behind Grover, and neither turned to look at each other. Not an answer. “I’m aware that Canterlot is the priority,” Grover stated bluntly. “Have a report on estimated air wings prepared tonight.” “My Kaiser,” Ebonwing snapped a claw to his breast with a muffled thump. Hooves pounded up the stairs again. Countess Raison entered first with a flicking tail and nervous expression. She stopped to bow in the doorway, then scrambled forward as Flurry Heart pushed past the unicorn with her massive wings. The room froze. The Princess of Ponies wore a form-fitting black jumpsuit zipped up to her neck. Her tail was a small bulge in the back, clearly shaven away; her mane had been cut down to stubble. Aside from the one-piece suit that hugged every lean muscle, the alicorn only wore a simple purple crystal band atop her head. Flurry raised a brow and drank in the stares with a muted smirk. She bowed at Grover with sweeping wings and a dipped horn. “Kaiser Grover.” “Princess,” Grover allowed. The Princess stood back up before Grover could say more. “I would ask if that cat got your tongue,” she snorted in Herzlander, “but that is probably offensive.” “Is this the clothes that Equestrians wore?” Grover replied, ignoring the jab. “It’s either this or sweatpants,” Flurry answered. “Or naked, and I don’t trust your griffons not to sneak a peek under my lack of tail.” “Harlot,” Thundertail muttered. Flurry’s ears swiveled to him. “What’s wrong?” she teased. “The general Reichsarmee is unfamiliar with padded gambesons for heavy plate,” Sir Geralt spoke out from the wall. The yellow-eyed griffon nodded at the Princess. “I expect your armor to be quite heavy, considering the visible padding.” “It’s not that bad,” Flurry nickered. “It’s good to see you again.” Geralt nodded and scuffed a claw on his black-plated armor. Flurry winked at Benito. “You’ve knocked holes in a priceless piece of history, Benito.” “They should’ve taken better care of it,” the graying dog retorted bluntly. “True enough,” Flurry shrugged. She looked around the room, pausing to nod at Bronzetail, who only buried his beak in his claws. Gallus offered a slight wave. “There’s a lot of important people here,” she remarked. “And quite close to the front.” “Is that a threat?” Benito snarled. “An observation,” Flurry countered. “You’re within range for bombers.” The alicorn trotted to the center table and stared down her muzzle at Grover. “We’re already moving out to encircle Canterhorn. I could be teleporting supplies forward. Why am I here?” “Gallus has informed me of your plans,” Grover said flatly. “As expected,” Flurry shrugged a wing. “Is this the part where you tell me your cunning plan?” “This is a courtesy,” Grover said with a low growl, “nothing more. Your only concern is holding the encirclement.” Flurry clicked her tongue. “Very well, Kaiser.” Grover stared up at her. Flurry stared back. Neither blinked. Gallus coughed into a claw. The Princess and the Kaiser turned their heads to stare at him in unison. “…I’m cold,” Gallus managed. Flurry’s horn suddenly lit and the blue griffon's feathers glowed gold. The sudden magic made the entire room tense. The pink alicorn gave the room an unimpressed glare. “Warming spell. Get over yourselves. I could kill you all before you could draw.” From behind her, Thundertail smirked and unholstered his pistol with a quick-draw. Before he could even pretend to aim it, the pistol was ripped from his claw in a golden aura, dismantled mid-air, and the bullets and parts landed in a neat pile on the table. Flurry did not look behind her, and her horn dimmed. Thundertail looked down at his empty claw with a long, slow blink. Grover clacked his beak. “I’m not impressed by theatrics. Would you give General Thundertail his sidearm back?” Flurry’s horn glowed again and the parts swirled around her head. The pistol was reassembled with a speed that would set records in the Reichsarmee, then floated back. The magazine followed separately. Thundertail did not pluck them out of the golden magic until Grover stared at him directly. The speckled griffon lamely loaded the pistol, then laid it in his palm with a confused grimace. “The trigger’s missing.” The part in question bounced off his beak. Flurry hit him without looking over her shoulder or aiming. “Oops,” Flurry said blankly. “Forgot it.” Grover took a deep breath and tapped a talon on the map. “Our air force is keeping the Hegemony at bay, for now. Our recon planes have confirmed a massive build-up to the west at their airfields.” “My airfields,” Flurry corrected. “Under occupation.” “It’s not yours without Canterlot, Princess,” Grover quipped. “I’ll leave taking it to you.” Flurry scrunched her muzzle. “Not interested in helping?” “No,” Grover shrugged. “My ‘cunning plan,’ as you put it, was to force the Hegemony to bring everything to bear at the Celestial Plain.” The griffon pointed to a contingent of little metal griffons placed just above Baltimare. “The south is open,” Grover revealed. “While they are slamming into our tanks to the west, General Mudbeak will advance with 200,000 griffons in a push to cut off the southern peninsula.” “You're trying to take the Appleoosan Protectorate?” Flurry asked. “I only need to cut it off from the rest of Equestria,” Grover explained. “The only major port to the east is Las Pegasus, going to occupied Hjortland in Olenia or Vanhoover.” “Cut off the oil,” Flurry stated. “Just so,” Grover traced a talon down a pink line across the top of the map. “Your shield is cutting off the north.” Flurry frowned down at the map, eyeing the tin soldiers. “You still need to win at Canterlot,” she said dubiously. “We will win,” Grover answered. “What’s the plan?” “A full mechanized counter-assault with air support once the Changelings move to engage,” Grover waved a claw. “Thundertail will hold the north while Bronzetail and Ignatius push through the south and center. The details are unimportant.” Flurry snorted and finally turned her head over her wing to narrow an eye at Thundertail. “If you get pushed back, we’re on the front line.” “We will not be pushed back,” Grover replied. “The knight banners will support the advance; they shall follow the tanks. It will be a question of who moves faster.” Flurry returned to the map and chewed on her lip. She lowered her head to look at the terrain. Her wings ruffled. “Field Marshal Bronzetail is leading the center?” Bronzetail shuffled his paws and claws from the side of the room. “That’s no concern of yours.” “How’s he supposed to command the entire army from a tank?” “He is not in command,” Grover replied. “I am.” Flurry blinked and peered up at him from the map. Grover's beak twitched in amusement. Just this once, I’ll savor that dumbfounded expression on your muzzle, Princess. The griffon stood up straight and raised his wings. “I have assumed command of my forces for this battle, Princess. That is why I am here. Manehattan is too far away.” Flurry stood up and exhaled through her nose. “Why?” “Do I need a reason to lead my armies?” Grover questioned back. “We invented the tank. Despite the reclamation of my ancestor’s empire, the Griffonian Reich has yet to face another armored army. Wingbardy's divisions were pathetic. This will be the largest armored engagement in the history of the world.” “I’ll rephrase my question,” Flurry half-apologized. “Are you competent enough to lead an army?” Half the room squawked in indignation. Benito and Ignatius snarled. “I know Hive Marshal Synovial,” Grover scowled. “You met him briefly in Aquileia. He is inflexible, unlike Trimmel.” The Kaiser gouged a claw into the wooden table with a hard slap. The figures rattled. “The changeling that broke Equestria would have been a tougher opponent.” “Trimmel died cradling a colt,” Flurry snapped. Grover searched for a proper response. “What?” “He thought I would hesitate,” Flurry bared her teeth. “I didn’t.” Her icy eyes swept the griffons along the walls as the room quieted. Most did not meet her eyes, only Gallus and Bronzetail. “Where’s the weakest point on your front?” Flurry asked. She didn’t look at Grover to do so. “You overreach, Princess,” Bronzetail squawked, trying to sound conciliatory. “This isn’t a fucking board game,” Flurry growled. She turned around to glare at the Field Marshal and jabbed a hoof at him. “My army is out-gunned and out-numbered on that mountain. If you fuck up, they can’t stop a breakout.” “We expected you to shield the city,” Gallus offered with a wince. “I can’t hold a shield like that unless I’m inside it,” Flurry retorted with a head toss. Her crystal crown bounced slightly. “And I’m not blowing the damn thing up. All of our supply lines are feeding your army, not mine.” “Worry about your own forces,” Ignatius snarled. “My ponies might hate me,” Flurry laughed ruefully, “or fear me, or love me, but they know what they’re fighting for. I’m not worried about them.” She searched the room. “Why are any of you here? Some excuse about Kemerskai plotting with Chrysalis?” “Kemerskai instigated the protests with embedded changelings,” Ignatius answered with sincere, painful belief. “He wasn’t smart enough to do that,” Flurry denied. “And you knew him that well?” Benito barked. “I managed to kill him,” Flurry said bluntly, “and take over Nova Griffonia in less than two weeks. He wasn’t very smart.” “You haven’t kept control of it,” Grover seized on the opening. He leaned his claws on the table. “Did you deal with the plotters that reached out to me?” Flurry hesitated. Her wings fluttered against the jump suit. “Clearly not,” Grover assumed with a smirk. His tail swished against his cuffed pant leg. “I ordered the information passed along.” Flurry turned to Gallus. “I told Thorax weeks ago,” Gallus sighed. Flurry Heart chewed on the inside of her cheek and nodded after a moment. “They dealt with it, then.” “That is your response?” Grover squawked in a laugh. “You should get a better spymaster. Perhaps you should not trust a traitor?” Flurry was quiet as a few chuckles spread throughout the room, far fewer than usual. Well, at least her presence prevents most of them from faking it, Grover thought. The alicorn’s ears twitched. “You trusted a traitor, didn’t you?” Flurry asked slowly. “What was his name again?” Grand Duke Gerlach and Count Ignatius stepped forward with their attendants. “How dare you!” Gerlach screeched. Flurry reared back in surprise at the sudden advance. Her horn sparked. Grover fired his pistol into the ceiling. It pierced the old wood easily, and the sudden sound made the room freeze. He took a deep breath and holstered the old Changeling broom-handle pistol under his wing. “Dismissed. Everyone out of the room.” No one moved. “I will not repeat myself,” Grover added bluntly. Geralt and his knights bowed and left first. It caused a slow trickle of griffons to leave. Gerlach and Ignatius slunk out together, sparing angry glares at Flurry, who stared back at them with a confused, twisted muzzle. “Benito,” Grover challenged. The gray dog stood in the tunnel. “I am not in the room,” he shrugged a paw. Gallus walked out last. “Thank you for the spell, Princess,” he said quietly. Flurry nodded absently. Two knights remained in the stairwell and closed the door behind Gallus. “What the hell was that?” Flurry nickered in Equestrian. “I meant-” “I am aware of who you meant,” Grover interrupted. “They are not. Grand Duke Gerlach and Count Ignatius joined Duchess Gabriela in their rebellion against Archon Eros. The civil war tore the Herzland apart for a year.” “The war over your regency,” Flurry connected. “If it had lasted longer, the Reich would’ve been slow prey for Kemerskai and Aquileia,” Benito spat. “Thankfully, the army remained loyal.” “Not all of it,” Grover reminded him. Bentio tapped his saber’s hilt with a paw. “What? Eros pardoned them?” Flurry asked in surprise. “I insisted,” Grover waved a claw. “It seemed like a good idea at the time. I was only a cub.” “And that cub later sent tanks against his own subjects over an excuse,” Flurry stated. “And the filly that served soup to foals killed one,” Grover answered. Flurry closed her eyes and looked away. “I didn’t want to kill him,” she said in a pained voice. “You didn’t have to send in those tanks.” Grover took a breath and glanced at the purple-bound journal on the table, holding down one of the corners of the map. He forced himself to look back at the alicorn. “You think I would be here if I did not?” Grover asked. “Do you even know what those protestors wanted?” He let the question hang in the air. Flurry did not offer a reply. “Votes,” Grover squawked. He circled the table to the map on the wall; the world stretched out in front of him. “Do you think precious Katherine in Katerin would have voted to send her brothers to Equus?” the griffon asked over his wings. “To fight changelings?” “She wasn’t part of the protests,” Flurry responded. “Neither was her family.” “Most griffons are fine,” Grover deflected. “I am not Chrysalis. They are not being worked to death. It is very boring, actually,” he said in a lighter tone. “They attend sermons about how my dynasty was chosen by the Gods.” “Right,” Flurry said dubiously. “The same Gods that raise the sun?” “The very same,” Grover agreed after looking at the wooden door to the tower. “I will be blunt: Griffons do not care what happens here." "I am aware," Flurry responded. "The world does not care," Grover ignored her statement. "Aris is surrounded by Colthage and Chiropterra. Hindia spars with the Kirin and Macawia over trade. Dragon Lord Ember remains on her island, watching our navies duel. Southern Zebrica tears itself apart over the legacy of the Storm King.” “You came all this way to help me, huh?” Flurry sighed. “I came here because Chrysalis will never content herself with Equus.” “Try again,” Flurry shook her head. “She couldn’t even take Nova Griffonia. You're smart enough to know that the Pax Chrysalia was never going to last.” Grover studied the map on the wall. He pointed to the northwest of Equus with a wing. “Once,” he began in clipped Equestrian, “the Changeling Lands were a dozen disparate hives. Chrysalis united them all with gunpowder. She named herself Queen of the Changelings and built her Hegemony in our shadow.” The light brown wing swept to the eastern continent. Griffonia was divided in two between the River Federation and the Reich. “We had no alicorns to unite us,” Grover said. “We are predators; if we aren’t fighting someone else, we fight each other. Griffons slaughtered each other for thousands of years until Boreas charged Grover the Great to unite my people. He did so with fire and sword, and built the largest empire the world has ever seen. “She came to us for a reason,” Grover snarled. “And my father was weak enough to accept her fanged smile. So was Eros, and Gabriela and all the rest, even the traitors that stand in my court. She took our language, our tanks, our weapons. Everything she has ever accomplished is owed to us. I will not let her usurp the legacy of my family.” “That’s a good speech,” Flurry commented. “You should tell them that.” “What?” Grover blinked owlishly behind his glasses and turned back to Flurry. She was still staring at the map. “Ponies like speeches too,” Flurry shrugged a wing. “I usually make something up on the spot.” “I prefer to write them down,” Grover disagreed, momentarily struck by the sudden casualness of the conversation. “That’s probably smarter,” Flurry admitted with a slight smile. Her frown returned immediately. “You’re rushing into this battle. You’ve been doing it for a month.” “My army is the best in the world.” Flurry jerked her head at Benito. “Get over here,” she ordered. The dog narrowed his eyes and growled. Flurry lit her horn and a golden shield slowly descended around her and Grover. Benito looked to his Kaiser with an unholstered pistol, then leapt over the broken wall and slid under the shield. He tucked his tail against his hind legs as it reached the floor. “Nice dive,” Flurry complimented. “Release us,” Benito replied. He raised his pistol at the alicorn. Grover lowered it with an outstretched claw. “Can they hear us?” He eyed the room beyond the shield, stopping to rub his glasses against his sleeve. The world was tinged gold. “No,” Flurry shook her head. “Don’t touch the edges, though. It’ll shock you.” The shield walls rippled with blue arcs of electricity. The map table was under the bubble shield. Grover set the Reichstone down and cracked his neck. Flurry scrunched her muzzle at the popping sound, and the griffon nearly laughed at her disgusted expression. “What do you know about Chancellor River Swirl?” Grover asked in Herzlander. “She leads the River Federation,” Flurry shrugged. “Hosts Celestia and Luna.” “Among others,” Grover replied evasively. “She attended Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns in Canterlot, part of an exchange program with the River Republic. She wants to turn the Riverlands into the ‘Equestria of the East.’ That was her campaign slogan.” “So she went looking for a pair of princesses,” Flurry snarked. “I would not be surprised if they end up on another throne in a generation or two,” Grover admitted. “The River Parliament is unstable. Besides, the Riverlands was once ruled by the Grand Prince of Lake City. Their democracy is newer than they pretend it to be. The Federation is panicked. The River Parliament is tearing itself apart at their old enemy returning after a generation. They welcomed the elder Kemerskai's rebellion with open hooves.” “Is that what you wanted to talk about?” Flurry whickered. “Husband,” she tacked on at the end with a smirk at Benito. Grover picked up the Journal of Friendship on the table. He didn’t open it. “Have you heard from them? Sir Spike can send letters to Celestia, can he not?” Flurry bit her lip. “No.” “They made a single public appearance when I began my invasion,” Grover shrugged. “Celestia did not attend the summer River Games, nor participate. It was a poor showing on all fronts." “It’s probably related to me slaughtering my way across Equus,” Flurry claimed brazenly, “or the pictures of my mother in a cocoon. Did River Swirl try to claim that was fake?” “They were censored,” Grover answered. “Director Arclight’s doing. He leads the Office of Harmonic Services for the Federation.” Flurry laughed. It sounded like a windchime. “There’s hardly anything harmonic about those cowards.” Grover flipped through a stack of papers that was under the journal with his other claw. He offered Flurry the front page of a newspaper. “It is in Herzlander,” he explained, “from Griffenheim. My capital is two days flight from the border.” Flurry accepted it with her forehooves. Chancellor River Swirl Denounces Invasion The picture below the headline was in black and white. Two griffons stood next to a frowning unicorn before a podium, a male and female. They were an incredibly mismatched pair. She was clad in a flowery, flowing Aquileian dress, and he wore a broad-shouldered military uniform. “I know her,” Flurry said absently. “Vivienne Discret.” The dark brown female had vicious, cunning eyes despite the dress. “The Princess of Aquileia,” Grover confirmed. “I took her kingdom. The male is Giulio Beakolini. He escaped Wingbardy with a small fragment of his navy.” “He was a fascist piece of shit that invaded New Mareland for no reason,” Flurry mumbled. Her ears pinned back. “Yes,” Grover agreed. He spoke slowly. “Your shield has disrupted weather across the entire continent. The weather is beyond our control. The snow will stop soon, and the ground will thaw. There will be a small period of clear weather, then rain storms will ravage northern Equestria in the spring. The ground will turn to mud and our armies will not be able to advance.” Grover leaned across the table to force Flurry to make eye contact. “Or retreat,” he said quietly. “The River Federation will take the opening to attack.” Flurry swallowed. “Are you sure?” “Do I have proof?” Grover rephrased. “No, but it is what I would do in their position.” “They won’t make common cause with Chrysalis,” Flurry denied. “What has she done to them?” Grover asked with a chuckle. “My ancestor ravaged the Riverlands, only stopped by a lucky spear. They will shatter the Reich, prop Vivienne onto her throne, and return Beakolini to Wingbardy. They will whinny in victory and proclaim that harmony has returned to Griffonia.” “And Vivienne and Beakolini will fight each other beak and claw over territory,” Benito added with a raised lip. “And griffons will kill each other for another generation,” Grover finished. “You have an army at the border,” Flurry Heart tried. Her crystal crown reflected the arcs of electricity from her shield. It shimmered in the light. “An army that will not be able to hold them,” Grover admitted bitterly. “Not long enough for my return. Regardless of what happens in the south, we have to fight now and we have to win. They are waiting to see whose army is better. If I can beat Chrysalis, I can beat the Federation. Arclight and River Swirl know it." Grover tapped a talon against the wooden alicorn. “Chrysalis cannot let Canterlot fall; her ego will not allow it. If she does not move before the ground thaws, she will lose the ultimate symbol of her triumph. Synovial will lead her attack, and she will throw everything at Canterlot again. I am certain she knows about the instability in the Reich.” “This is madness,” Flurry spat. Her wings bumped against the side of the shield and blue electricity arced around her feathers. She didn’t seem to notice. “We are griffons,” Grover replied. He set the journal back down. “The Reich was always held together with force, whether it was subterfuge, politics, or blood. You said it yourself. Our empires will die together.” Flurry took a deep breath and stared down at the map. “Where’s your weak point?” she repeated. “Concern yourself with Canterlot, Princess,” Grover answered. “The battle won’t be decided there,” Flurry retorted. She jabbed a wing down on the Celestial Plain. “It’ll happen there, just like with Starlight. With your tanks.” “Our tanks are better,” Benito stated. “Our air force is better.” “They have shorter supply lines and they know the terrain,” Flurry countered. “Don’t try to sell me something like a griffon.” “I am holding divisions in reserve,” Grover nudged a few of the soldiers around Canterlot with a talon. He tilted his head and looked Flurry Heart over. The jumpsuit clung to her fur. Flurry flapped her wings at the stare. “Like what you see?” she teased. “If I had been born a stallion, this would be scandalous. You know what they say about stallions with big wings, right?” Flurry stretched her long legs; the material flexed around her muscles. “If you had been born a stallion, things would have been very different…wife,” Grover replied. He propped an elbow on the table and leaned his head on a claw. “You are aware that I would have never asked for your hoof in marriage if you accepted my offer?” “That’s why I offered it,” Flurry stuck her tongue out. “I figured I was valuable enough to soothe your prickly griffon pride. Looks like I was right.” “You threatened to blow up my capital.” “Do you want something else?” Flurry asked genuinely. "You want to renegotiate?" Grover paused. “How do you intend to fight?” he deflected. Flurry rolled her eyes and lowered her head to tap her horn. Grover smoothed out his head feathers and stared down at the wooden alicorn atop Canterhorn. He gingerly picked it up and moved it to the Celestial Plain. “Bronzetail is used to your eccentricities,” the griffon announced in Herzlander. “Ride through the center.” Flurry nodded and grinned. A smile more befitting a changeling than a pony, Grover thought. The Princess smiled like she had fangs, but her teeth were flat and dull white. “I expect you to take orders from Bronzetail,” Grover warned. “I do not lead a militia. The Reichsarmee is an actual military.” “From what I’ve seen of battles, any order breaks down quickly,” Flurry warned back. “You sure you know what you’re doing?” “Do you?” “Nope,” Flurry giggled. It sounded like two crystal bells clinking together. “I always believed Equestrians sang and frolicked through meadows,” Benito muttered. “I’m from the Crystal Empire,” Flurry corrected him. “Is it too much to presume you have a plan for ruling Equestria?” Grover asked. “Real union,” Flurry answered readily. “Economy and military interlinked with the Empire. It'll be easier to govern.” Grover hummed. More considered than I thought. Flurry inhaled and looked at the journal resting under Grover’s claw. “If Twilight is alive, I’ll restore the Diarchy. I expect you to confirm Twilight as Princess of Equestria.” “As long as she honors our agreements,” Grover said easily. Flurry nodded again and dispelled the shield. “Anything else?” she asked. Her eyes were distant. “No,” Grover answered. Flurry turned to leave instead of teleporting. Grover looked down at the journal. “Princess, I would not get your hopes up,” he said in Aquileian. “I know she’s dead,” Flurry responded over her shoulder in the same language. “The ELF is desperate to believe she isn’t, same with Starlight. Maybe we’ll never find her body either.” Flurry stopped at the door. She looked over her shoulder. “Is my father still in Griffenheim?” “Yes,” Grover answered after a long silence. He did not look up from the map. “Huh,” Flurry mumbled. “I figured you would’ve thrown him in a ditch after I started blowing your stuff up.” “No point in taking it out on a corpse,” Grover scoffed. Benito shuffled his paws and moved back to the broken wall. Flurry remained at the door, lost in thought. “What if Celestia and Luna come back?” Grover retrieved a report and scribbled down a correction after looking it over. “That is entirely your decision, Princess of Ponies.” They will never come back. “I think most Equestrians would take them over me," Flurry chuckled. It sounded fake. "I'll be worth way less." “You are the most valuable thing on this continent,” Grover said on reflex. He looked over the top of his glasses to try and catch her expression. The blurry alicorn pushed open the door and left quickly. Grover grabbed several blank sheets of paper. “Benito?” “My Kaiser,” the dog said from the hole in the wall. “Was she blushing?” “Her fur is pink, my Kaiser.” “Not an answer, Benito.” Grover tapped his pen on the end of the table. “How fast can a courier take a letter to Griffenheim? A week?” “Most likely,” Benito agreed, “barring weather.” “We’ll use the secure channels on the radio, then,” Grover reconsidered. “I’ll need to talk to the Archons.” “My Kaiser?” Benito asked. “I said this was my Grand Crusade, Benito,” Grover stated in a low voice as he began to sketch out a speech. He coughed into a claw after his voice broke. “Might as well make it official.” The dog rubbed the whiskers on his graying muzzle. “My Kaiser, the first Crusade failed.” “I am in blood stepped in so far, that, should I wade no more, returning were as tedious as go o'er,” Grover repeated. He set the Reichstone down atop the weathered Friendship Journal.