Fork in the Road

by Novelle Tale

Chapter 5

Princess Luna grimaced at her fork, hovering carefully in her magic, and took a bite of her peas, an almost perfect mirror of Lemon Hearts’ own motion. A few weeks of learning the purpose of each utensil had brought them up to refining the use and motion for each. In truth, a thousand years on the moon had done little to dull Luna’s original training, and most of the refinement was necessitated by learning new utensils, courses, and foods that had not existed a millennium ago.

Truthfully, it was nice. Housekeeper training was exhausting, and etiquette training, despite being at the start of Luna’s day, was at the end of Lemon’s’. She pressed her napkin to her mouth, stifling a yawn. The sleepy silence wasn’t helping.

“How goes thy training?” Luna finally asked, breaking the quiet. It was unusual for her to do so, and Lemon Hearts welcomed having something to focus on other than rote motions.

“Well enough, Your Highness,” Lemon answered with a wan smile. “It is… more work that I was expecting, and I was already expecting being a housekeeper to be a lot of work.”

“Chatelaine.”

“What—that is, pardon, Your Highness?”

“Thou art a chatelaine, the Chatelaine of Canterlot Castle,” Princess Luna intoned, lightly tapping her hoof on the edge of her plate. “Or thou will be, upon commencement of thy training.”

“I…” Lemon Hearts blinked owlishly at her plate. “It said ‘housekeeper’ on the job description.” A beat. “Your Highness.”

“As if a palace so grand could be referred to, and kept, as simply as a house.” Luna snorted. “The term is familiar enough to Our ears, though the position’s name has likely diminished to this moniker in some… effort to suit modern pony parlance.” She didn’t say ‘foolish’, but Lemon still heard it. “A chatelaine thou shall be.”

“Really?”

“Wilt thou be the keeper of all manner of keys and doors?”

Lemon Hearts nodded.

“And wilt thou be in charge of budgetary tasks and event planning as it pertains to the ‘household’?”

She nodded again.

“Then a chatelaine thou shall be,” Luna repeated, utterly bored. She rested her fork onto her plate, nudging it carefully into the correct position to indicate ‘done’.

“That is… quite a title.”

“I see.” And Luna did, cutting a glance at Lemon’s bewildered frown. “It is more title than thou were expecting.”

Lemon Hearts wanted to deny it, but she couldn’t. “Yes, Your Highness. I suppose it is.”

“It is more title than thou thinks thou deserves,” Luna realized, surprised. She leaned back in her chair. “To where has thy measured confidence fled?”

“Confidence?” Lemon asked. “I’ve never been the most confident mare, Your Highness.” Or the most competent, she thought disappointedly.

“Thou art plenty competent,” Luna said, waving her hoof as if to brush the thought away. Lemon startled.

“Can… Your Highness read thoughts?” she asked in a hushed whisper.

“Of a kind,” Luna answered mysteriously. The seconds stretched. “The truth of thy thoughts are written in thine eyes, and across thy face.”

“Oh.” Lemon leaned back in her chair, her turn to mirror Luna’s motions. “I guess I’ve never considered myself to be… worthy of responsibility, I guess?” She frowned. “That was always more a Twilight thing, anyway. I guess I never really thought of it as being a ‘me’ thing, or even something… I could want.”

A myriad of emotions played across Luna’s face for an instant, each one poignant and personal, enough to take Lemon Hearts’ breath away—regret, anger, loneliness, longing—before her cool mask settled back into place.

Silence fell once more, thick and soupy.

“We do not like forks,” Luna said abruptly.

“Wh—?”

“Why can ponies not simply use knife and spoon to consume their meals?” she continued agitatedly, her eyes alight with frustration. “Forks are strange and fickle and serve only to remind Us of what We have missed.” Her gaze softened to something quieter, sadder. “Of all that We have missed,” she admitted softly.

“I’m sorry, Your Highness,” Lemon Hearts said, and she meant it. Raw pain like that… and the Princess had so much of it, if the slip in her mask was anything to go by.

“A gift of candor for thine own, nothing more,” Luna said, waving her hoof again, this time to brush away the thanks. “‘Tis shameful enough for thy better to display such emotion to thee. Think not upon it, and thank Us not at all.”

Princess Luna stood, her chair scraping the flagstone. “We shall take Our leave now. An evening fair as this deserves not to be squandered.”

“Of course, Your Highness. Good night.” She stood, bowed, and straightened to watch Luna leave, the Princess’s head held high and haughty once more. 

I opened my eyes to a dark sky speckled with stars, impossibly close and bright and numerous—too numerous to ever be visible in Canterlot.

“Princess Luna,” I said.

The dream was quiet, but pregnant with pause. Waiting, I realized. Like a cat waiting to pounce, or a rabbit itching to run.

“I know it was you,” I said to the sky. “I know you’ve been looking in on my dreams.”

The silence shifted, not quite nervous. Ready to leave, I decided. Waiting to be rejected.

“Thank you,” I said instead.

The stars smiled down on me and I breathed in deep, the scents of jasmine and lilies and lavender overrunning my senses.

“Congratulations,” Princess Celestia said, stepping back and offering Lemon Hearts a genuine smile, so radiant in the early morning light. “I look forward to our many years to come, Lemon Hearts.” 

Lemon Hearts held a careful hoof to the badge pinned to her chest. Celestia chuckled.

“How does it feel?” she asked.

“Not quite real yet,” Lemon Hearts admitted. She didn’t say that she was disappointed to not have Luna present for the official title hand-off—they hadn’t spoken or seen one another since the end of Luna’s etiquette lessons a few weeks ago, and they were both busy mares, after all.  
 
“It is unfortunate that Luna could not attend,” Celestia consoled, her smile gentling, and Lemon Hearts knew something must have shown on her face again.  “Eleven in the morning is quite late for her, I fear. Still, I know that she is likewise looking forward to our many years of working together.” Her eyes crinkled. “And I am sure she is as proud of you as I am.”

“Thank you, Princess.”

“Take the day to rest,” she said, already sitting back down at her desk. “You have more than earned a break. Your housekeeping duties can wait a day to start in earnest.”

“Thank you, Your Highness.”

The walk back to her room was the same length as always, but seemed different, somehow. The same old, historied walls, made anew, cast in a new light. 

She would be the one to care for those walls from now on.

She was so lost in her thoughts that she almost tripped on the small box outside her room. Lemon Hearts stumbled to a stop, grabbing it in her magic. It was a little plain thing, a simple string for a bow with no other fanfare. She tugged it open and floated out the small object inside.

It was… a keychain? The same color as her badge, and filigreed to match, with several chains trailing from the ornate centerpiece, an elegant ring at the end of each one. A note fluttered out, and she caught it with her hoof.