I reached the top of the stairs that circled the ivory tower and stared at the blue door, not opening it. Inside, Sunset and Citron were...
I coughed into a hoof.
Riding or being ridden was the colloquial term, a euphemism if there ever was one, and not at all what that baby dragon was doing last night on Twilight Sparkle's back. Might be in a sweaty exhausted sleep, for all I knew, but I wasn't feeling like finding out.
What I felt...
The night Sunset Shimmer had brought me home, I'd woken in her bed, the sheets suspiciously damp, and I knew what after smelled like. She'd never said I'd ridden her, but I had little doubt in my mind either. I'd been mind controlled by that crime boss I'd mentioned earlier, so it didn't count. Not really—and I can make that assertion because I need emancipation papers to be legally adult and am still of an age where I can still (just barely) get away with saying, "not really."
I'd lived with Sunset for two months. Despite the tower's spacious interior, she'd only offered her bed. Since I'd been down to my last bit, I figured I could pay that rent. The tower boasted sofas, as well as granite floors—neither that I'd insisted upon using. I'd blown by the ick card ages ago; any situation could let me learn something about myself.
Like sisters, I justified it; we were like sisters. I found that she only slept well if I held her. I'd gotten used to the closeness. Likely, she had, too.
Ok, confession time: I liked it.
I'd even massaged her with my cutie mark magic. It calmed her as her inability to score nettle ewe increased and her incompatibility with her mentor, Princess Celestia, had become unbearable. I knew that the addiction had won when she'd neither let me massage her or spoon with her in bed.
No riding. It didn't make a difference to how I felt.
Citron...? Him? My heart sped just remembering...
The yellow-colored yearling with a mane and tail that looked like somepony had swirled a lemon meringue pie with a spoon— wouldn't be my first. However, I'd figured out he had a crush on me the day I rescued Broomhill Dare from deep depression back in Prancetown. He'd never confessed while we worked for Doña Carne Asada. Practically had that day, but the situation made him step back.
Yesterday, he'd made his feelings known.
Unmistakably.
Physically? Gangly. Nerdy mane cut, often talking about comic books. Packaged in his new uniform... well, well, well!
What cinched it, though, was he had gotten to know how I thought and always worked or fought in concert with me. He supported me absolutely. He instantly protected me when necessary without asking. Loyal, but not a sycophant. Take notice if you have a special somepony you want to like you back. Unconditional support and well-advised loyalty is sexy.
It didn't hurt that he kissed well, mind you.
I rarely felt my age. Today? Now...? Yeah.
Confused.
Color me confused.
Proper Step huffed up the landing beside me. Despite being impeccably dressed, sweat spared nopony. I pointed. "You might want to work on your fitness."
"As you wish, Ms. Glimmer."
My. Breath. Caught. Like that, command accepted, no matter how arduous. No argument. Reasonable, considering who he now worked for, even if he was 40. The stallion had been my guardian. Raising me, he had made my life like living in Tartarus... at Princess Celestia's command, mind you—a mitigating factor, though I hadn't seen it as such until last night.
I felt confused.
"Proper Step. Please fetch my yellow dress, hat, and messenger bag." He'd gathered the pieces of my dress, at Celestia's request, where I'd discarded them in the Star Swirl the Bearded wing of the library and somewhere on Alicorn Way as I tried to escape Canterlot.
I'd tailored it to look fashionably aristocratic, and to fight in. It had fooled the nobles in my senior history class, and had fooled Detective Fellows. I'd needed to hide my identity from the Interpone agent so I could make a deal with the horse's flank.
"Yes, Ms. Glimmer."
He swiftly closed the door before rude noises could escape. As the son of Princess Celestia's majordomo, he knew his stuff.
I would meet a pony other than the Prince Blueblood I wanted to interview without a disguise.
I dressed at the base of the stairs, ignoring the ponies in the castle gardens that gawked at me for ignoring the convention about dressing in public.
I had a deal with Celestia to become her student, like Sunset and Twilight, with additional obligations. Yesterday, the princess had mused about Prince Blueblood, "I'd love to make you his teacher, to see what you could make of the do-nothing." That evening, I'd witnessed him strut arrogantly into the throne room—he hadn't even looked at me! Under the circumstances, I'd been the main event, though I had not yet understood the clues at the time.
I was again somepony's tool. Perhaps Lady Horseshoe Bay's tool as much as Celestia's in this. Moon Dancer made me trust her where Celestia had not.
Me?
A tool.
Sharp edged.
Prince Blueblood intrigued me. I acted on my own accord. With nopony to ride, I spoiled for a good fight. Could I be my own sharp tool?