The Summer Sun was a lot more interesting than I thought it would be. There really wasn’t much to do for most of the day, in terms of productive work, and Celestia wouldn’t let me stray too far off by myself. I’d eventually started treating it as more of a hang-out than a diplomatic function, which helped considerably. The various activities the Canterlot populace had set up weren’t anything to write home about, mostly consisting of formal dances and fancy buffets. Celestia even asked me to dance with her on one occasion, which both I and our entourage vehemently denied, on the grounds that it might send a bit of a dangerous message, politically speaking – and also, I had very little ability to dance as it was, never mind trying it with a bloody horse.
Towards the evening, we had fallen into a comfortable discussion regarding the history of Canterlot. It had only become the seat of Equestria’s rule after the Long Night, although it had been around for somewhat longer than that, built about sixteen hundred years ago during a brief economic boom, apparently just to show off to the world. It had quickly been occupied by the nobility, primarily as a sort of holiday getaway, which made it an important city practically overnight. However, when the civil war destroyed the previous capital (in the Everfree, because where the fuck else would it have been, apparently), a new location needed to be chosen, and Canterlot fit the bill pretty much perfectly. Interestingly, the Canterlot Palace was only finished thirty-five years after the conclusion of the war – the same time Celestia had woken up and started ruling the nation again. An interesting coincidence, or maybe ponies needed a throne to sit in before they were physically able to rule. I found it pretty funny, at any rate.
Then, some interesting trivia about Canterlot ensued – apparently, it had the lowest population growth of any city in Equestria, so much so that it was practically fixed, at roughly four-hundred-and-ten thousand proper residents. That confused me a little bit; capital cities were generally the most populous ones, and Equestria spanned almost half the continent.
“Wait, so how many ponies are there in Equestria?” I had asked.
Celestia actually had to stop and think about that for a moment, before giving the answer: “Hmm… about twenty million, if I recall the census data correctly.”
That had shut me up for a good long while. It reminded me quite effectively that I was still in an alien world, where a nation with such a small population could still be such a heavyweight – though, as I later reflected, the fact that Celestia could move a star probably did most of the work for them. No nation back on Earth could have conceivably called themselves a superpower with such a disproportionately small amount of citizens, without an ace in the hole like that.
The Call of the Sunset was no less spectacular than the Sunrise – except this time, I was able to focus my undivided attention on the event. The speech was a little less dull this time, since all the political smokescreen bullshit had been done in the morning; this one consisted mostly of thanking the citizens for their work setting up the activities, and had a little more feeling behind it. The actual lowering of the sun, though… man, that never, ever got any less incredible. The sheer presence the Princess exuded, not to mention her glowing-up the whole place, was nothing short of spectacular.
Finally, I was able to retire to my room in the palace. The day, the event, the festivities – all concluded, with only the blissful oblivion of bed-rest remaining.
The following morning had found me at a bit of a crossroads. Waking up was surprisingly unpleasant (more so than usual, I mean) and going through my morning routine hadn’t done much to cheer me up, away from home as I was. It seemed, by all accounts, that today was going to be profoundly dissatisfactory, and not just because that noble after-party was scheduled for the afternoon. Naturally, Celestia had insisted on meeting me for breakfast, along with her student, Twilight Sparkle, who was far too curious for her own good.
It was a decidedly adequate affair. Miss Sparkle was a consummate scholar, and pestered me with endless questions about my species, biology, magical ability, and so on, and was only stopped for minutes at a time by Celestia’s many reprimands. I didn’t mind so much, though; the French toast I was served made up for it very nicely.
Fortunately, Celestia had some things scheduled with her student, so I was spared the fate of spending my own time with her, leaving me with the remainder of the day to do with as I pleased. Stop one was the library; to finish taking some notes down that I missed the first go around, and to inquire as to where I could actually purchase the books that had caught my eye two days before. It didn’t take terribly long, and was pretty dull all in all.
Eventually, inexorably, time lead me to stop two – where I was now – the after-party of the Summer Sun Celebration, reserved for nobility only.
It took place in palace grounds, specifically the back gardens as well as a few ballrooms that exited into them. Security, in the form of the Royal Guard, was surprisingly light, as far as I could tell, and identities weren’t being screened very tightly. Either that, or I was already on the approved list and I just hadn’t been sent an official invite – or perhaps my proximity to Celestia yesterday told them that I was important, and to not fuck with me just in case. Either way, I’d simply… gotten in, ill-fitting suit and all.
The ballroom I’d entered looked like it was decorated more for a wedding than an upper-class gathering. White silk was draped all over the place, gold was gleaming everywhere, and every single pony in the room (of which there were far more than I had expected) was dressed head-to-hoof in astonishingly elite suits or dresses. I’d never seen anything quite like it.
My natural height seemed to give the room pause as I made myself known by simply entering. Seemingly every head in the room turned my way; some evaluating, some curious, some… less friendly. Fortunately, the moment soon passed, and the murmur of conversation that I hadn’t even heard had stopped, resumed, with every pony returning to their earlier tasks.
I took simple, hesitant steps further into the ballroom. I couldn’t recognise any faces in the crowd. My hands began to fidget, seemingly by themselves. Looking around, I spotted something akin to a bar, and decided that it would be as good a place to start as any; as long as I didn’t go overboard, some alcohol would hopefully help me relax in front of all these strangers.
I’d barely opened my mouth to order when a glass of wine was simply pushed into my hands, by a unicorn that looked about ready to keel over dead. I thanked her for her trouble, which made a twinkle appear on her before it fell away just as quickly. I sipped at my new drink – I never really had much of a taste for the fancier spirits, but by all accounts, this wine was alright. Not too sour, with a nice fruitiness to it that took the rest of the edge off.
“First Minister?” A voice to my left broke me out of my thoughts. Turning to it revealed Prince Blueblood’s flabbergasted expression, which made me sigh in relief.
“Prince Blueblood! Oh, thank God, at least there’s someone here that I recognise.”
“First Minister?” he repeated. “What in all the starless hells are you doing here?”
“An excellent question, your Highness,” I answered, gesturing behind him at the other guests. “I was hoping for a chance at some light conversation with the, ah, great powers of the nobility, as it were.” Recognition began to dawn in his eyes. “Probably, I’m not really supposed to be here, but the Guard didn’t stop me, and no-one’s raised a fuss yet, so… I thought I might as well try to mingle. Incidentally,” I stepped closer and lowered my voice, all conspiratorial-like, “if you’re not otherwise preoccupied, would you be so kind as to, perhaps… introduce me to some of them?”
Blueblood thought it over, staring off into the distance somewhere, but eventually firmed up. “Yes,” he said, nodding at me. “An excellent idea, in fact. Please, follow me.” He took a wine glass of his own in his magic, and began weaving through the crowd, looking this way and that. Towering over the rest of the ponies as I did, it wasn’t difficult to stick behind him.
"What, exactly, made you decide to attend this ball?" asked Blueblood, more out of a desire to fill time than genuine curiosity. "I didn't believe you one for these sorts of events."
"Information gathering," I replied, deftly weaving around two ponies. "I want a sense of what's happening in Equestria, particularly Canterlot, and particularly what the aftermath of my little speech entails. Got a genuine excuse for asking, here, too, as opposed to just walking up to them on the street."
"I see," said Blueblood, vaguely approving. "I see. Ah, here we are!" He abruptly stopped in front of another pair, somehow not terribly distinct from all the others despite their quite eye-watering appearance. "Lord Jet Set, Lady Upper Crust, a pleasure to see you here! Please, allow me to introduce to you the newly-declared First Minister of the Free State."
The two unicorns turned their attention to me, and after a short inspection seemed to find me wanting. "First Minister," said the stallion, stepping up to me stiffly. He didn't offer a hoof. "I am pleased to make your acquaintance." His tone held very little warmth in it. Jeez, who pissed in his cornflakes this morning?
"A pleasure," echoed the mare, slightly more naturally.
I inclined my head to them respectfully, in order of acquaintance. "Likewise, Lord. And Lady."
"Lord Jet Set is one of the chief financial advisors to the Crown," explained Blueblood. "Lady Upper Crust is his wife, and has connections to many important businesses across Equestria, chief among them Sturdy Steel Imports. And of course, you two have already heard of the First Minister's speech, yesterday...?"
"Of course," said Jet Set. "A fine work of oration, if I may be so bold to say." I saw Blueblood's ears flutter. The faint praise didn't escape me, either, though I chose not to comment on it.
"Thank you kindly, sire. My oratory ability was my main concern, as it happens, while I was giving it. I am quite pleased to see that it was unfounded." Both ponies' brows raised. Even Blueblood threw me a look. "Nevertheless," I continued, unfazed. "I must confess I did not come here merely as a meet-and-greet exercise. In fact, I've found myself with a number of questions, and I was hoping that somepony here would be able to answer them."
"Of course," Jet Set broke in, seemingly unable to stop himself. "The riff-raff from the streets begging for handouts from the elite of Equestria-"
"Do behave yourself, dear," interrupted Upper Crust, walking up to him and gently bumping against him. "He does have the ear of the Princess, despite being a lowborn." I doubt I was supposed to hear her whispering into his ear. Again, I ignored it.
Jet Set, at least, changed his tune. "Ah, my apologies, First Minister. Your, ah... appearance is quite deceiving."
"Mmm." Sure. Whatever you say.
Fortunately, the conversation ran a lot smoother after Jet Set had gotten it out of his system. The pair's breadth of knowledge wasn't very extensive, but I had learned an awful lot about Equestrian economics – which was in surprisingly good shape, considering my previous knowledge. In fact, it seemed that the country was just about to come out of its bust period; employment was picking up, profits were the highest they'd been in decades, and productivity was gathering steam. Even Blueblood was taken by surprise by the glowing endorsements.
Upper Crust was particularly keen to educate me on the state of the international market. Equestria was by far the wealthiest nation around, beating even Zebrica's (what seemed to me to be quite exaggerated) natural gold supply. However, the noblemare let it slip that Equestria was relatively average in terms of natural resources itself, which of course prompted the obvious question.
The one thing Equestria had in abundance was magic. More precisely, it was skilled magicians – artificers, scholars of theory, archmages, and so on; even earth pony agriculturalists and pegasi weather experts fit the bill. Apparently, these were such hot commodities overseas that the Crown was able to negotiate ridiculous resource extraction rights in exchange for sharing their expertise – rights that were still in effect to this day, even those that were signed two millennia ago. No doubt the threat of a solar flare burning them to a crisp discouraged those whose feathers were ruffled by such deals to try reneging on them.
"We've recently hit an undiscovered vein of iron ore, near Graveclaw – some twenty leagues north-west of Griffonstone." Upper Crust was now regaling me with some recent successes of her businesses. Yes, hers – as it turns out, 'connections to businesses' meant quite a wide variety of things to Blueblood. "Sturdy Steel expects an eighty percent increase in revenue, with minimal additional expenditure. In fact, the labour costs are expected to decrease thanks to its location, since it being so near to the town will cut down on transportation time."
"Mmm." I was quite glad that my non-committal humming was being mistaken for genuine interest. This topic of conversation, quite frankly, was beginning to wear thin. Jet Set had been called away by Blueblood elsewhere, probably to mingle with some other idiots, which had left me alone with the mare; thirty minutes of dry business talk would drive many to sleep regardless of the conversationalist.
"Now then," said Upper Crust, abruptly. "I believe I've talked enough about my own situation. How do things look in your Free State so far?"
"Hmm?" I was taken off guard by the sudden change in topic. "Oh, right. The Free State..."
The mare misinterpreted my disorientation. "Your economy?" she prompted.
"Well, ah... we don't really have one, yet," I admitted. "It's all still in a very early stage. Right now, the Diarchy is still bankrolling our development; I've got six citizens, which isn't much of a workforce."
"Ah, I see," said Upper Crust. "Still hypothetical. Well, in that case, how do you plan on going forward?"
"In truth, I still haven't considered the question much." I sipped at my wine, trying to buy some time to think. "We don't have much besides lumber… I suppose a policy of autarky would be a terrible idea, but it still appeals to me, more so now even."
"Autarky?" she parroted. "What is that?"
Eh? "What do you mean? Do you really not know what an autarky is?" She shook her head. "Really...? Well, anyway, autarky is a policy of deliberately limiting foreign trade – imports and exports – down to a minimum, usually nothing at all."
"What?" the mare all but shrieked. Some heads turned our way, prompting her to recompose herself. "How... how can a policy like that ever be successful? It would lead to ruin!"
"You're right," I said, to her confusion. "It's usually a pretty bad idea, especially if you don't have much resources to begin with. There's been a few nations that tried it historically – back home, I mean – with rare success. It'd be even worse here, I suspect, with how interconnected Equestria is with its neighbours, economically. But the key thing about it is that it means being independent from other economies, so they can't control you as easily, for example by embargo, or hiking up prices of essentials you depend on."
"Feh." Upper Crust actually threw her head back, sticking her nose up into the air. "Anyone who can't see the benefit of trading with Equestria deserves to languish in their backwards filth."
"...Is that your government's official position on the matter?" I snarked.
"Upper Crust, dear!" Finally, Jet Set reappeared from whatever pits of Hell he wandered off to; whatever retort was on her lips vanished upon his re-entry. "There you are! I'd... thought you would have made your leave by now, First Minister."
Finally, an excuse! "As a matter of fact, I was just leaving," I replied, nodding to each of them. "Thank you kindly for indulging me, Lady Upper Crust. I'll take what you've given me into consideration. Good day to you both." I turned on my heel and went on my way, ignoring whatever they began to whisper about behind my back.
Blueblood had not turned back up, which I figured really shouldn't have been as much of a surprise as it was. Knowing him, he'd gotten caught up at the bar, and was busy trying to drink it dry. A shame; the wine I'd been given was actually quite nice, and the buzz it'd given me was quite agreeable indeed, pushing my discomfort and disdain away.
So, apparently Equestria was doing better than I'd expected it to. Employment was up, profits were high... by all accounts, it was all sunny days and warm breezes. It was a bit of a wrench to my mind-map of the situation. Steady Hooves had been an example of gross economic mismanagement, according to his story, and I had little reason to doubt him. He'd brought his family with him, after all. Now, someone with actual experience in the field was telling me, in effect, not to worry about it.
It just didn't add up – I was missing something. I made my way over to the bar to get a refill. Somebody isn't telling the whole truth. It was the only conclusion that made sense to me – after all, an economy can't both be doing well and shitting all over the little people.
Steady – years of trouble paying bills, one day it became too much. Moved to bigger cities for better work, without success. Finally stumbled over me, and gave it a shot, together with his family. Upper Crust – things are picking up, business is booming, especially her own Sturdy Steel...
Sturdy Steel Imports.
That's one angle that could fit – all the jobs are going overseas, so Equestria (and the nobility) is getting rich, and the common ponies are going redundant. It certainly had precedent, from back home, and all the info I had fit together with it.
Alternatively, one of the two were simply lying. Steady didn't seem too likely, but it was possible he was simply trying a long con, for some unknown purpose. On the other hand, Upper Crust could simply be trying to aggrandise her own position, and to someone close to the Princess no less – and to a commoner, which she definitely didn't hold in high regard. It seemed more and more plausible, the longer I thought about it. If anyone was lying to me, it'd be her.
Still. I gratefully accepted my third glass, and moved to mingle among the crowd once more. There continues to be something I am missing. I've got lots of little pieces, but there's more than one big picture they could fit. Simply put, I needed another perspective. It was still too early to be jumping to conclusions.
Eventually, I saw someone waving a foreleg at me out of the corner of my eye. The polite smile on his face made him stand out among the masses; I homed in on it like a shark.
"First Minister!" he called, once I'd gotten close enough. He held out the hoof he'd waved at me with, which I quickly shook. "A pleasure to see you here! I must say, I'm surprised the security let you through the door at all."
I quirked an eyebrow. It seemed like the tendency of the elite to talk down to the unwashed masses was a universal one – or multiversal, considering my situation. "Likewise, on both counts. Then again, I do look like I'm supposed to be here, and I was with the Princess for the whole day yesterday. But I digress – who might you be?"
The unicorn smiled. (Boy, there's a lot of unicorns in here, huh?) "I am Lord Fancy Pants. Deputy Chancellor of Foreign Affairs."
My expression quickly turned grimly amused. "Ah, so you're the one to blame for sending Ambassador Blueblood over to the Free State?"
"Oh, goodness me, no!" He chuckled politely. "I would never inflict such a thing on anypony. Blueblood's position was given by Crown directive. The Chancellery had nothing to do with it – technically, we don't have any authority over him at all." That confirmed that theory, at least. Thanks a bunch, Celly.
"Anyway," he continued. "I wished to thank you in person for your contributions, yesterday. What you said lit one heck of a fire under the nobility, if you'll pardon my Prench. Maybe you'll finally be the one to convince them that it's time to start doing something about this whole mess." His eyes shifted left and right, as if fearful of who'd overhear.
"That's not what I did it for," I reminded him. "Believe it or not, but I meant what I said."
"I know that," he said. "Of course. Simply call it a pleasant side-effect of the situation."
"Well, if I can convince you lot to finally start doing something useful, then I guess I can live with that." I sipped at my wine. "Incidentally, what exactly do you mean by 'this whole mess?'"
"Oh..." He seemingly clammed up, now even throwing his gaze up to the ceiling. "I, ah... I don't believe this may be the best place to bring it up."
...Okay? What? "If you say so." I let a pause pass, to clear the air, and to let Fancy finish his inspection of the surroundings. "Though, if I may, there seems to be a whole lot of 'mess' in Equestria to clean up, from what I've gathered. Upper Crust might have tried to talk it up, but I know how to read between lines. Business is booming, right?"
"That's right," he confirmed. "Domestic product is up four percent. A good sign, by all accounts."
"And yet, none of that translates to better lives for the little people. Correct?"
"Now that," he began, "I'm not so sure about. The Treasury has no use for gold simply sitting in its coffers; they must actually do something with it."
"Let me guess, social programs? Like food banks, homeless shelters, youth centres, regeneration projects?"
"Ah..." His hesitation told me everything I needed to know.
"Thought so." I turned my stare to the side, seemingly dismissing the conversation. "What does the Crown even do with all its income, anyway? Is it really so expensive to maintain the Canterlot Palace that they have to spend a third of their GDP just to wax the floors?"
"No! Of course not!" Oh dear, looked like Fancy Pants was genuinely offended by the suggestion. "Nothing like that. The gold flows exactly to where it needs to. Be it the Crown servants, or infrastructure maintenance, or what have you. None of it is wasted."
"I'm sure." Bleh. My patience was flagging. My wine had long since run dry, the glass whisked away by a servant, and my buzz was steadily disappearing. I couldn’t even be bothered to ask for a clarification. "Well, in any case, it was a pleasure to meet you, Lord Fancy Pants."
He took his cue, nodding politely to me. "Likewise to you, First Minister Inns." He hastily made his exit, leaving me standing alone.
I'd spent long enough here, to my mind. Swivelling my head around, I quickly located an exit – but, just as I was about to make a step, another voice broke in. "First Minister, a word, please."
I had to shake my head. Right on cue, as usual. Turning to face the speaker, I was met with yet another unicorn stallion, distinguished from Fancy Pants only by colour – a slightly lighter coat, not quite white, with an odd two-toned green and blue mane that didn't detract from his presence – and his utterly blank expression – one bit. "Ah, yes. You've caught me just in time; I was just about to leave."
"Fortuitous." He nodded. "Allow me to introduce myself. Lord Heartstrings, Chancellor of Public Information Dissemination."
"Ah!" My eyebrows rose in recognition. "Yes, that rings a bell. You were the editor-in-chief of the Canterer back when I first arrived here, weren't you? An excellent piece of journalism, incidentally. I suppose I should congratulate you on your promotion."
"Thank you, First Minister," he said, bowing his head. "Though you misunderstand. I held both positions simultaneously at the time, and still do. Still, I humbly accept your praise."
"Mmm. So, what did you wish to discuss?"
"Are you willing to speak in an official capacity?"
Ooh. Sneaky son of a bitch. "Oh, an interview, huh? Sure, I'm game. As long as it doesn't take too long," I muttered under my breath.
"Excellent." A pad and quill appeared out of thin air, with a soft 'pop.' "I shall try to make this brief. I can see you fraying – even if I hadn’t heard you." His smirk was not something I'd expected to see on anyone here, entirely too playful to fit in – especially with how flat and cold the rest of him was. At least there's someone here with something of a sense of humour about them. "First things first. How did you become First Minister?"
“Like I said in my speech,” I said. “I made a bad joke to a Guardsman, who decided to involve her in the situation. She was the one to create my position. And, uh… the joke ran on a little longer than I expected it to.”
“Mhm.” His quill moved with near-preternatural speed, speaking of many years of experience. “How would you describe your… Free State, as it is now?”
“A work in progress,” I deadpanned. “It’s more of a camp than anything else, right now. Work crew’s been a huge help, but it’s still very early on. I was given an estimate of a year or so, and we’re only… three, four weeks in? Something like that.”
The questions weren’t too exciting, as it turned out, mostly fishing for dry numbers, or asking for my opinion on various matters, some about Equestria and some about my speech. A few, though, were rather pointed, concerning personal relationships, competence, experience, etc. but I still managed to keep my cool. Soon, the aura around the quill petered out, stuffed into the pad to be teleported away to some far-off cubicle in an office somewhere.
“Thank you for your time, First Minister,” he said, briefly bending his knees down in what I assumed to be some sort of pony bow. “It was an absolute pleasure to speak to you today.”
“Yeah,” I dismissed. “Heard that twice already today. No wonder you aristos keep flapping your mouths at me, if it’s so ‘pleasurable’ to hear yourselves speak.” I shot him a smirk. “Still, nice talking to you.”
Heartstrings actually laughed at this. “Ha! Oh, Maker! No wonder her Highness shunted Prince Blueblood off to you! I suspect he might be plotting to gut you in your sleep, with the way you treat the nobility!”
“He’s been polite enough when I speak with him,” I said, bemused. “Then again, I am pretty close to the Princess, myself. Maybe he just wants to avoid a spanking from his dear auntie.”
His laughter intensified. The nearby ponies seemed to be avoiding paying attention to us, I noticed, which was a bit of a surprise. Heartstrings – now snorting quite hilariously himself – was acting quite undignified, after all, a big no-no for posh twat gatherings the world over. I reckoned at least a few dirty looks would have been thrown his way… but, in fact, not one person in the room was looking at us.
Finally, Heartstrings recovered enough to speak. ‘Easily amused’ was a label I didn’t think would have applied to someone like him, and yet… “Spanking… heh, that’s, that’s a new one, I’ll say. Heh… I shall have to pitch that to the satirists…”
“Uh-huh. I’ll leave that to you, then. Good day, Lord Heartstrings.” With a wave of a hoof, I was dismissed from the conversation, and eagerly made my way out of the ballroom. With nothing else on my agenda for the day, I cut out the middleman, and asked for directions back to the guest quarters, to my room. (Seriously, the palace was practically a third of Canterlot by itself, going by how many fucking corridors it had in it.)
I barged through the door to my temporary lodgings and threw myself onto my bed before exhaustion could overtake me. Christ Almighty, but that was a pain in the arse and a half. Checking the time, I saw that barely an hour had passed, and yet it felt like I’d been stuck in there for the entire day. Still, I did need to note down what I’d learned in there before it all slipped my mind, useful or not.
Upper Crust, good, that’ll be handy. Fancy… eh? Just something about a mess, I think? Probably something in Canterlot, could still be useful though as a reference. And Heartstrings, got more out of me than vice versa, but at least I’ll get an article in the paper from it. As I finished jotting down as much as I could pull from memory, one final realisation caught up with me… I’ve neglected to ask what they actually thought about my situation, haven’t I?
The slap of my palm hitting my face was almost audible from Day Court.
“So, for the most part, that was one big fat waste of my fucking time,” I summarised, to Celestia’s endless amusement.
My time in Canterlot had come to an end. It had been over a week since the Summer Sun – technically, I was supposed to already be back home, but my efforts to squeeze what I could out of the less stuck-up residents of Canterlot had been much less than successful, and I had decided to spend an extra two days trying my luck in some of the many suburbs of Canterlot, lower down the mountain. It was two days that had gone down the shitter. At the very least I was still treated to some decent palace cuisine while I was dithering.
“I would have thought you would have considered this as a vacation from your duties,” said Celestia.
“That’s because you’re projecting, Princess.” I paused, frowning. “Although… I suppose you’d have been right, for the first two days.” Besides… what duties?
We were standing outside, in one of the palace’s many gardens, with enough open space to accommodate the carriage I was waiting for – and had been waiting for, for about half an hour. The sun was still low on the horizon, the early morning providing a nice cool air that took much of the bite out of the summer. Celestia had accompanied me to send me off; when it became obvious we’d be waiting here for a while, she’d sat down on the grass and asked about my time in the city. My review was less than glowing.
The Summer Sun, of course, was good, and not just because I’d spent it with a friend. The whole rest of my efforts, though… The noble party was much less useful to me than it could have been, partially due to my own damn idiocy in forgetting to ask my own questions, but I did get valuable context from it, as well as a bit of an insight as to how the court of the Diarchy worked – and, to a lesser extent, thought. Not to mention the ‘interview’ Heartstrings had gotten out of me, which I’d actually read about in the Canterer the day after, where it was framed as ‘an insight into the inner workings of Equestria’s hottest topic,’ or something to that effect. It was surprisingly flattering, which came as a nice surprise. Evidently I’d gotten into his good graces.
“Ah,” she nodded, sagely. “You are right. Anything can be made enjoyable with a friend, after all.”
“…Yeah, sure.” Whatever the fuck that’s supposed to mean.
Asking the common pony, however, turned out to be an exercise in utter pointlessness. Apparently, I’d been too quick to dismiss my earlier hypothesis that there weren’t any commoners in Canterlot at all – because, in a way, it was correct. Of course, there were ponies living and working in Canterlot besides the upper class; the waiters, street sweepers, mailponies, and so on. It was just that, on the whole, they just didn’t give half a shit. Many, many questions were answered with an ‘I don’t know,’ or just a shrug, or even a ‘Who cares?’ I couldn’t believe it. The general feeling was that things were just fine as they were – Canterlot was doing fine, after all, and the Princess is still in charge, so why bother?
That was the biggest mistake I’d made in my assumptions, it seemed. The apathy of the common citizen was not something I’d really noticed, until now, although all the signs were there even in my first days here; an alien spat out from a dimensional wedgie should probably have been bigger news than it turned out to be. Now, with two years behind me, and without my situation clouding my mind, I finally recognised it for what it was – a tyranny of the status quo. As long as a pony gets food, friends and a bed to sleep in, well. That’s good enough for them, isn’t it.
Just like it was back home.
“Adam?” A wing brushed against my chin, tearing my defeated stare away from the ground and to her face, again full of concern. “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah.” I rubbed at my eyes, trying to wipe the fatigue from them. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just...” I couldn’t bring myself to elaborate. Back my gaze went to the floor. “Just thinking.”
Haven’t we been here before? Depressing as it was that I seemed to be the only one to give a shit, I had better things to worry about now. I’d been away from the Free State for too long; Construct no doubt had gotten much done in that time… perhaps even more migrants had arrived since then. News travelled deceptively fast in Equestria, as I’d found. Perhaps she’d even read the excerpts from the Summer Sun herself. I needed to get back there, stat.
Bloody bus services, I grumbled. Even in magical horse land, they’re fucking late. Thanks, Celestia.
“…Perhaps I could convince you to stay a little longer?” Her wing brushed up against my arm, making me shudder involuntarily.
I pushed the wing off of me. “No,” I said. “I need to get back home. Christ only knows what’s happened in my absence. I’ve spent enough time here already.” Spotting her coy smile, I put the pieces together. “Oh. You were making another pass at me, right?”
She stepped forward. “...What would you say if I was?”
I snorted. “You know, Cel, if I didn’t know any better I’d almost say you actually have some kind of interest in me.” I pushed her wing off me again. “Just can’t let those jokes go, can you?”
“Jokes?” said Celestia, sounding suitably offended.
“First the Free State, then the crack about calling you Mummy,” I listed. “Christ, I hope you don’t read the Canterer. If you come over next time and tell me I’ve been a very naughty boy, I swear to God I’ll declare war there and then.”
A dangerous gleam came into her eyes, then, her head dipping down to invade my personal space. “…I didn’t take you for that kind of person, Adam. Is there something you aren’t telling me?”
“Like I said.” The telltale sound of whooshing air preceded the appearance of a flying carriage from behind a nearby tower. “I hope you aren’t a fan of the Canterer.” Finally, my ride was here. I dislodged myself from Celestia and pretended to dust myself down. I was quite looking forward to getting out of my suit.
The carriage landed, and the door swung open. This time, Blueblood had insisted that I try out an open-top, so I didn’t need the open door to see his smug face leering at me. I bit my lips to stop my laughter bubbling up as I stepped up and into my seat. “What?” he asked.
“Nothing,” I said, thick with suppressed amusement. “It’s nothing.” I waved to Celestia, who returned it with a wing. “Thank you for having me, your Majesty. Until next time.”
“Until next time,” she echoed, watching Blueblood and I take to the air.
“Fuck me, am I glad to be going home,” I told Blueblood, as Canterlot grew distant behind us. “Some peace and quiet is exactly what I need after the big city.”
…
The afternoon sun shone brightly on the meadows of the west. The open-top flight was surprisingly pleasant, considering my profound fear of heights. The fact I was strapped in about as securely as physically possible helped a lot – my harness looked more like something out of a BDSM catalogue, which definitely helped keep the fact I was about nine hundred metres in the air out of my mind. Blueblood, too, was being much more pleasant than he had any right to be. A week and change in Canterlot had done wonders for his attitude. Probably all those cocaine tastings, or whatever he likes doing so fucking much when he leaves.
“…Jet Set has always been the more respected of the two,” Blueblood was saying. “He gives recommendations to the Princess every four months along with the rest of the committee, which gives him considerable influence over policy. Of course, his alliance with Fancy Pants also helps in that regard, giving him an actual connection to the merchant class, not to mention his own connections with the griffons…”
If there was one thing Blueblood had going for him, it was his intimate knowledge of court intrigue. Not a big shocker to me, since he was practically born and bred for it – and might well have been literally so – as well as having a familial relationship with the monarch. Truth be told, he was growing on me; acting more like an annoying roommate than a stuck-up jackass was doing wonders. Still loved the sound of his own voice, though.
“…never a very warm relationship,” he continued. “To him, Lady Upper Crust was simply a means of consolidating influence and power over the nobility, and not any real feeling. She gained her title from the marriage, and Lord Jet Set gained her contacts. It was merely a mutually beneficial partnership…”
I had little use for the information, though. Perhaps this would have been more useful before I’d crashed that party, but that was long ago already, and I wasn’t planning on going back any time soon. Right now, I was using him as a noise generator, to drown out my own thoughts, more than as a fountain of intrigue. Judging by how he kept going, though, it was clear he was used to that sort of reaction.
“…heard from High Roller that he was nearly caught by a pair of Court’s Eyes in an affair with-”
“Your Highness! First Minister!” A call came from our drivers that cut Blueblood’s spewing short. “We’re nearing our destination. Five minutes to landing.”
“Excellent,” I said. “Can’t wait to get home, I’m starving.”
“Already? Didn’t you have breakfast with the Princess before you left?”
“Yeah, I did. Right at the crack of dawn. It’s about three o’clock, now.”
A second call from the guardsponies broke us out of our bickering. “Landing zone in sight. We’re starting our des-” Abruptly, the call was cut off. The carriage veered off to the left.
“What’s happening?” asked Blueblood, alarmed.
Silence.
“Guardsman,” I called, raising my voice. “What’s happening in my Free State?” I leaned out to the side, peering over the edge. The forest was just now coming into sight, along with my cabin, now with a few additions… except now, its surroundings were writhing in movement.
“Eyes on ponies,” called the second guardsman. “Landing zone obstructed. We’re being flagged down, pegasus, brown coat.”
“Set us down as close as you can,” I called. “That’s my second. I’ll jump down if I have to.”
“Sir?”
“What?” The guardspony didn’t seem nearly as concerned as he probably should have been. Blueblood was much more animated, visibly restraining himself from leaping to his feet. “You cannot be serious!”
“Shush,” I said, unbuckling myself from my seat. “Three metre drop is nothing I can’t walk off. Something is seriously fucked here, which means it’s my fuckin’ problem now.” I didn’t dare stand up properly, but I did lean much of my torso out from the carriage. We were nearing a touchdown now, only a hundred metres or so from the ground, though still a fair distance from my house. I waited for a few moments, to make sure my voice wouldn’t get lost along the way.
“Make way for the carriage!” I bellowed, pushing as much volume out of my throat as I possibly could. “Make way!” My calls were soon joined by the guardsponies. The cabin loomed larger and larger in my view. The mass of colour around it steadily resolved into groups, then individual ponies. A hole was forming in the congregation – too slowly. “Make some room, goddamnit!”
“First Minister!” I heard Construct’s voice call out, first to me, then to those around her. “Clear out, already! That carriage needs to set down!”
Finally, room was made for a landing, and we soon touched down to the ground. I all but leapt out of the carriage, almost not even bothering with the door, and stormed over to Construct. “First Minister,” she said by way of greeting. “About time you got here. I stalled them for as long as I could.”
“What’s the situation here?” I asked immediately.
“These ponies are asking to live here,” she said, simply.
…
Holy shit.
I looked at the gaggle of ponies surrounding us. Tens, dozens, hundreds of ponies stared back. Earth, unicorn, pegasus, green, blue, red, big, small, everything in between. A veritable smorgasbord of ponykind was staring me in the face.
“…Clarify?” I said, weakly.
“They want housing, food, work, what more clarification do you need?” replied Construct, more heatedly.
I inhaled. News travels fast, huh… A week and change made more difference than I cared to admit. Now, staring hundreds of uncertain, nervous ponies in the face no matter which way I looked, only one thought made itself clear in my mind.
Fuck.