And so it was Thursday.
The first half of the day had dragged on frustratingly: while Sunset was Princess Celestia's personal student and that provided considerable freedom, she did still occasionally have to do school work. So five hours (plus half an hour for lunch) had been taken up by writing a thesis proposal on deconstructing the Unicornia-era spells for the movement of stellar bodies and repurposing them to handle geologic shaping and excavation. (Sunset considered the topic dull, but admitted that being able to use teams of unicorns to move literal mountains had practical applications.)
She was sure the work was solid, but Sunset knew her heart wasn't in it. That evening wouldn't get out of her mind, and there was no real thinking about anything else. When she caught herself doodling designs for her crown in the margins of her work, Sunset realized she was at the limit of her attention span.
Fortunately, there were last minute preparations to distract herself with until the time came.
Ensuring privacy was the first thing: Sunset had slipped one of the guards a couple of bits to make sure they weren't disturbed by anypony less than Princess Celestia. Sure, throwing cash at the problem felt clumsy - but it was reliable. It had been his job to watch the hall outside Cadance's rooms anyway, so a little extra went a long way.
Second was picking up the flowers. They were ready, and it gave Sunset the opportunity to check in with her other order.
"One Noble's Special," Wallflower related with vindictive cheer. Her father was tending to the counter on the other side of the store, seeming to take pride in his daughter handling her first customer successfully. "They order this sort of thing all the time to take shots at each other. But I made yours extra special."
With her hoof, she pointed out each of the individual elements. "Geraniums," she said, pointing to the small pink blossoms on the outside ring, "For stupidity." From there she went inwards. "Then foxglove for insincerity; yellow carnations for disappointment and rejection; orange lilies for hatred; and finally?" She pointed to the central cone of tiny white flowers. "Meadowsweet, signifying uselessness."
Sunset took the whole thing in for a moment. "And it's a big--"
"It's shaped like a penis," Wallflower gleefully confirmed.
Which made both fillies giggle like the teenagers they were.
"It's perfect." Sunset knew it was just the right extra jab for Blueblood. Victory was always sweeter when you rubbed it in.
And last on the list was to pick the right outfit. For a normal dinner, Sunset would have just gone as-is. But this wasn't normal, and she needed to get it right. That, of course, had run into the problem that Sunset didn't own a whole lot that would be suitable - most of her closet was either winter gear or intended for fancy galas. An outfit that looked good but was theoretically still casual was harder than it should have been.
In the end, she settled on a cobbled-together combo that mostly worked. A plain black cotton top from an old Nightmare Night costume, a mid-length orange-yellow skirt she had picked up on a whim the year before, and a hairpin of her cutie mark that Princess Celestia had gifted her for her birthday four years ago. It worked well enough and fell into the desired envelope of nice-but-not-fancy.
With all that prepared, Sunset stood outside the door of Cadance's rooms five minutes early. She had debated if early, on time, or late was better - but in truth that she knew that the waiting was driving her mad. It would have to be early.
So.
Five minutes. She was there. She was ready. All she had to do was get in, present the flowers, wait through dinner for the right moment... then explain the bouquet and ask Cadance. Simple. Just a matter of getting the timing perfect and keeping calm. Well, calm and from eating her own hoof in nervous anticipation.
It wasn't like months of work and her greatest goal in life relied on this, after all.
Nowhere to go but forward.
Sunset knocked - three swift and slightly too hard raps of the hoof on the gilded oak door.
From the other side, there was a brief shuffle before Cadance's muffled voice called out. "Just a moment!"
Sunset waited two heartbeats before calling back to her. "Open it with your magic from where you are, not with your wing." Just another little push for practice - as well as a tiny show of power, marking Sunset as the master and Cadance as the student. One last advantage for the coming confrontation.
The handle glowed blue a moment later as Cadance did as commanded and let Sunset inside.
Cadance's quarters were new to Sunset. She had never visited them before, and prior to the alicorn's arrival in Canterlot they had been one of several generic (but of prime quality) suites reserved for high ranking foreign guests or diplomats. Since then, however, this one had been wildly redecorated with a teenage filly in mind.
Unlike Sunset's room, the windows here were unshaded and brimming with sunlight. The open curtains were a perfect example of the rest of the room's décor: light material, pastel hues, and a breezy vibe that looked ready to flounce through the castle on wings of song. From those pink silken curtains to the white lacquered dinette set to the rounded couch shaped to resemble a cloud, it was all painfully fluffy. Even the vase of yellow and orange flowers by her desk seemed to have an air of mirthful girlishness. And then the beautiful, artful décor was mauled to death by the reminders that Cadance was still a teenage filly. The poster hanging by the desk had been framed, but it was still for the most insipid pop band currently touring Equestria. The bookshelves held light novels with harlequin marks and flowery titles. And while Sunset couldn't see into Cadance's bedroom from the doorway, she was ninety-nine percent sure the ceiling had glow-in-the-dark star stickers on it.
As for Cadance herself, she had opted against wearing anything fancy - but she had cheekily put on a frilly lace headband similar to what the maids wore as a nod to their original bet. That, and a look of surprise at Sunset having dressed up.
That surprise grew when Sunset levitated over the carefully curated bouquet of flowers. "Hey, Cadance." She tried to sound casual - but relaxed? No. Too much tension in her voice. She knew it, as Sunset could feel her whole body go tight as she began her gambit and there was no hope of going back. "Thought I'd bring a little something along. It felt wrong to show up empty-hoofed."
The look in Cadance's eyes was oh so familiar to Sunset - the rapid back and forth that darted across the bouquet the same way Sunset's own did across complex spell structures. No doubt Cadance was reading the flowers' language, mind clicking over the available data and piecing it all together.
Sunset immediately decided the flowers had been a mistake. She was communicating her intentions too early, flagging Cadance with information before everything was set up. This was skipping past waiting for the right time and shoving her intentions into the pink alicorn's muzzle seconds after walking through the door. It was a total misstep and the first moments of a disaster. She had screwed up. It was coming on too strong too soon, and Cadance was sure to be angry.
And just as Sunset was about to start her verbal retreat, Cadance stopped her with a smile. Just... a smile. Not a knowing one, or a smug one, or even an amused one. Just a simple, ordinary smile one would give to a friend. "I'll get a vase," is all she said.
It left Sunset stunned for several seconds. She had messed up and left an opening, only for it to not be taken. It should have upset Cadance - she instinctively knew that - but Cadance just... let it go. And Sunset wasn't sure how to handle that.
Until a fine crystal vase was set in the middle of the dinette table and Cadance waited expectantly beside it. Then Sunset finally got a clue and transferred the flowers to their new home. (The rest of her confusion faded far more slowly.)
Cheerfully, Cadance gave them a little fluffing - re-arranging them within the vase to get everything back in the same order they had originally arrived in. Then she pulled out one of the chairs for her dinner companion.
Sunset was so off-balance, she didn't even scold the alicorn for using her wing instead of her magic.
It was plenty of an opportunity for Cadance to launch into her presentation. "So, I want to assure you that I did make all of this. And without any help!" Her voice wobbled on the edge between playful and defensive. "Chef Gastronomique was kind enough to let me use his kitchen and sourced a few ingredients that weren't in the pantry stock, but other than that this was all me." Her wing swept out to take the lid off of a simple bowl of white crockery she had on a serving tray off to the side. "To start, a quick salad. Baccelli e Pecorino." The dish was dispensed with surprising quickness: fava beans, chunks of pecorino cheese, and sliced radish in a drizzle of olive oil with just a touch of pepper.
With it in front of them, Cadance sat opposite Sunset and... waited. Expectation weighed heavily on her face, though it wasn't clear if she was waiting for Sunset's opinion on the salad or context for the flowers.
And for the life of her, Sunset wasn't certain which one she wanted to lead with.
Still, as Sunset took the first bite of her salad? Cadance watched with anticipation. And her face slowly fell with each of the three following bites that came only with silence.
It was after that fourth one that the alicorn finally broke the mute meal with a nervous question. "How is it?"
A direction. Sunset grabbed at the opening. "It's good." She paused to shift the vase and flowers to the side - while Cadance's swan-like alicorn neck and leggier body let her look over top, Sunset's more normal pony form meant they blocked her view. That out of the way (literally), Sunset tried to be a bit more verbose. "Really liking the radishes in this. They're good and crunchy."
Relief flooded over Cadance, and she giggled a little. "The funny part is that those are the one non-traditional part of this. All the rest is from my adopted mother's recipe, but I added those. I just thought the radishes gave it a little extra color and texture, you know?"
Another pause as Sunset ate a fifth bite. This time, she considered it a bit more carefully - and nodded in agreement. "Yeah, you made a good choice." And Sunset knew she had made one too when Cadance smiled broadly.
The alicorn started to eat as well, the first hard hurdle passed. "I'm glad," she said between bites. "I always get nervous when I make changes, even if I feel they're the right one."
"Horn, not wing," Sunset distractedly scolded.
Cadance flushed with embarrassment, awkwardly changing her fork from a wing-grip to her magic. "Do you ever have moments like that? When you're cooking something, I mean," she quickly appended.
Shaking her head, Sunset didn't respond with words at first. But when she caught Cadance's look of curiosity, she felt she had to. "I've never really cooked. The castle's staff does a good enough job, so why should I get my hooves dirty?"
"Not even before you came here?" Cadance's response was quick and surprised - and almost immediately followed by a grimace. "Wait! I'm sorry, I forgot. You don't like talking about things before you were Princess Celestia's student."
The apology cut off Sunset's reflexive anger, turning it to a sigh of heavy resignation. "It's okay. Unlike everypony else in this city, you didn't mean any harm." She distractedly nudged a bean with her fork, the tines scraping on the plate a little. "And I'm okay with most of the past, but it's hard to separate all of it out from my parents." Admitting even that was hard - but Sunset knew she couldn't entirely avoid it. Not forever.
Cadance didn't push, though. She just gave a little nod of acceptance. "If you ever decide to talk about it, I'm here and I'll listen."
Sunset nodded back - and that was that.
The salad only lasted a few more minutes - it was just a starter, after all. When the two plates were cleaned, Cadance shuffled them aside and started laying out a new set of cutlery. "I had considered a soup course," she noted as a fresh fork, a thin knife, and a teaspoon were distributed to them both. "But I decided against it. I didn't want you to be too full, and soup for two just doesn't feel right." She bit her lip for a moment, trying to find the phrasing. "It's always been best with a full family or at a party, where there's a lot of ponies to share. At least, that's how I feel."
She waited expectantly - but to her relief-slash-disappointment, Sunset merely nodded. "Yeah, I can see that. I guess I take it a little for granted that the Palace serves so many ponies at once that how many you're cooking for is never really a thought."
"So instead, I put together one of my favorites for a cold autumn day." Cadance levitated a platter over to the table and removed the silver cloche with dramatic flair. Instantly a wave of scents bombarded Sunset: sweet stewed tomato; pungent garlic; a hint of wine; and a slight fishy smell that Sunset couldn't figure out why it was there. The dish was a pasta of some sort, with thin, curling beige noodles over braised spinach in a sauce that looked to be olive oil-based. "Calamari in zimino," Cadance pronounced.
It took a moment for Sunset to translate in her head - and another to realize that the noodles were squid tentacles. The shift had Sunset off-guard long enough for Cadance to fall into an abrupt panic. "Oh no, you're not allergic, are you? I didn't think about asking--"
She was silenced by Sunset holding up a hoof. "No, no. I just-- I thought it was pasta. I've only ever had squid that was in little rings and these are more like noodles."
Instantly, Cadance brightened. "They usually aren't noodle-y! My mother taught me a way to cut them so they end up like that." She paused. "My adopted mother," she corrected herself.
Changing the subject before that could get explored, Sunset focused back on the dish. "I guess I shouldn't have been surprised. Traditional pegasus cuisine uses a lot of seafood."
Taking the two bone-white china bowls off the tray, Cadance served the main course to both of them. "Actually, Florentina is almost exclusively an earth pony village. I was the only pegasus, and the only unicorn was the witch Prisma."
"Wait, so you were raised by mud--" Sunset's jaw clicked shut before she could finish the slur, but Cadance's icy frown made clear it had been noticed. "You were raised by earth ponies?" It was a late correction, but seemed to placate the alicorn.
In fact, she laughed in amusement at the question. "You didn't see my parents at the coronation?"
And in truth, Sunset hadn't. She had heard the names - Carino Botte and Pervinca - but hadn't bothered to actually look their way. Her mind had been otherwise occupied at the time: seething in rage at somepony else's coronation had taken up a lot of attention, after all. (Perhaps more than she had realized.) This did explain why Cadance's education was so lacking - at least in Sunset's mind.
Of course while Sunset was thinking on that, Cadance grabbed a framed picture of her family from the nearby dresser. She was in the middle - hornless and markless - with her adoptive father on the left side (dark brown coat, merlot red mane, cutie mark of a wine cask, Sunset quickly analyzed) and her mother (periwinkle blue coat, darker blue mane with a sea green stripe, cutie mark of a flower) on the right. "See? This is us." She sighed wistfully. "Two years ago, in early spring. Mom realized that we hadn't gotten a family picture since I was a foal, so when a photographer came by for the springtime festival we had a new one taken. We almost didn't go to the festival because the rain had been so heavy that week. But we did, and the photographer had to pan up a little too high because our hooves were absolutely soaked in mud."
Cadance laughed at the memory, and Sunset smiled. She couldn't help but do so - there was something infectious about Cadance's cheer.
"Cute," was as far as Sunset commented - eager to push past her earlier errors.
With that, Cadance finished the serving by popping the cork on a wine bottle - a straw-yellow Etna Bianco - and poured a little out to each of their glasses.
The first bite was unexpected: Sunset had eaten squid before, but this was a far different taste from the stir-fried ones she had tried. Chewy but not rubbery, it had soaked up the flavor of the sauce like a finely-rendered sponge. Garlic, tomato, olive oil, and sautéed spinach mixed to a smooth, herby taste that didn't fade as she chewed.
This time, Cadance didn't wait for an opinion - she dug in with eagerness. It wasn't until three forkloads later that she gave Sunset a questioning look.
"Unique," was the unicorn's appraisal. "I don't think I've ever had something like this before." She stabbed her fork through another 'noodle'. "It's good, though. It's your mom's? I'll have to tell her that when she comes to Canterlot next time."
Something in that statement soured Cadance - she looked down to her plate and gave no response.
Sunset didn't press, and they faded into a quiet meal for long minutes. Even when they did slowly speak again, it was words about nothing: questions that were innocuous and superficial as both danced around the things that each really wanted to say.
Cadence asked about Sunset's sycophants, presuming the group of mares that hung around her at school were friends. Sunset couldn't even remember their names - and she knew they were just opportunists, staying in her orbit with the hope of being pulled up the social ladder by association. No pony worth caring about.
Sunset asked back about Cadance's lessons with Princess Celestia, only to find there was nothing there but empty words and things Sunset had already learned. Etiquette and history and politics - things Sunset had mastered long before. No secret Princess things.
And like that, they went back and forth for half an hour, speaking few words that meant anything and asking questions with dispassionate answers.
When their plates were cleaned, the momentary silence returned.
Cadance tried to cover it with a smile as she moved their plates away. "So, um, Sunset. I hope you saved room for dessert?" It was cheesy - but also very Cadance.
"I think I might need a minute to digest, but I wouldn't say no." Sunset's own smile back was wain and weak - mostly because she knew time was running down. Tipping her hoof early or not, she still had to ask Cadance on that critical date. They had danced around each other for a while now and no moment had seemed right yet. Too much of the meal had been spent avoiding the things they really wanted to talk about, after all.
But where Sunset hesitated, Cadance pushed. While she had her back turned preparing the dessert to be served, she talked over her shoulder. "By the way. Was there something on your mind tonight? You've seemed distracted - like you were avoiding something."
Sunset's internal monologue turned into a string of expletives as she lost control over the situation again. "No. Nothing, really." It was a terrible lie - even she had to admit that. But doing things on her terms was a reflexive action, even if it was detrimental.
At first, Cadance didn't respond. Not with words, at least. Her reply was in the form of cake: a thin, unleavened brown square, covered in nuts, dried fruit, and orange flower petals. "Castagnaccio," Cadance pronounced as she floated over Sunset's piece. "Chestnut flour cake with raisins, walnuts, pine nuts, and," she said with a smug smile, "Nasturtium flowers."
A glance - and Sunset could see the petals were fresh. They had been pulled off moments before from a second vase that was on the deskside table: one full of now deadheaded nasturtiums and still-blooming yellow carnations. A memory from earlier in the day connected in her head, where Wallflower had outlined what the carnations in the other bouquet meant.
Cadance waited patiently, a slightly smug smirk on her lips.
The yellow flowers were disappointment or rejection. So by logic, the other pair were... Sunset squinted at them, then at the pink alicorn.
"Nasturtiums," Cadance happily related, "Traditionally symbolize victory. So the answer is yes."
An awkward pause.
Cadance motioned to the vase on the dinette table with her head. "You were trying to ask me something with the flowers, right?"
All the pushes and delays to have control, and it had been snatched away. Sunset stumbled her words, mind racing to try and find some way to grab it back. Failing, of course, but still trying. They came out as a string of disjointed syllables - but that was enough of an answer. Because Cadance smiled wider.
"Acacia for concealed love. Forsythia for anticipation. Arborvitae for unchanging friendship. Azalea for fragility." Cadance recited the coded message with smug confidence. "I was wondering when you were going to ask."
Again, Sunset's eyes went to the other flowers that had already been in the room. "So you knew?"
A slight shake of her head. "I was anticipating," Cadance answered gently. "It was pretty obvious you had something on your mind, and it's unusual for something to be bugging you and not get resolved pretty quickly. You're a pony of action like that," she noted with a wink. "After that, it was just a matter of noticing how angry you got when Blueblood tried to date me and that you were asking questions about how to ask a pony out. There's fishing and then there's trawling."
Sunset's ears flattened against her head as she blushed. She did not like being outplayed, even if it made her job easier. "So you knew." Her eyes yet again looked at the second vase. "And you prepared to say yes or no. If you knew ahead of time what I was going to ask, why didn't you already know your answer?"
"Because I needed to see how you would do it." Cadance pulled her chair around the table so she could sit beside Sunset. "Not just that you listened to me on the right way to ask a filly out, but how you acted. You're a tough mare, Sunset Shimmer, and it tells me a lot not just that you tried to do this the right way but that you were nervous about it." She touched a hoof to Sunset's chest. "It showed me that you care and that's more important than anything else."
A hesitation - then Sunset set her hoof against Cadance's fetlock. "This is important to me." And she knew she meant it.
Cadance's pleasant smile said she knew, too. "So. A date?"
"A date." Sunset felt her blush warm more at that. "The Homecoming Harvest Festival is next weekend. I want to take you to that. Not as part of some royal function - just us."
The plan got a firm nod of agreement from Cadance. "It sounds like fun with one of my favorite ponies in the world." She pulled her hoof back - and used the same one to pick up her plate. "Cake to celebrate?"
Sunset's fork lifted in her teal magic. "Absolutely."