Prince Blueblood had clocks built into the bricks, the wood furniture, even into the weight machine. Some showed the day and date. He might be obsessed. He professed to have known the second I'd been late to my appointment, and admitted to toughening my test—to his lasting chagrin. I'd gotten into a groove, rearing, punching a heavy bag he held steady, when he cried, "Enough."
I growled.
He rolled his eyes.
I knocked him back and off the mat by combining Push, a one-two punch, and a rear sweep kick against the sand-filled suspended cylinder. His left rear hoof skidded on stone.
He huffed, backing out of danger. "You're sweaty. As it is, you've barely the time to cool down and get to Celestia's without galloping."
"Yes, Coach. Sorry, Coach." I shook myself out to spatter him with said sweat, then giggled all the way to the stairs, grabbing up a towel and swishing my tail widely, in case he wanted to look.
He didn't. He started racking weights.
I pouted.
I was so lost reviewing the last day, I found myself already walking up to the purple-painted stone school building. My hackles rose; I was being watched. I reflexively tied my disheveled mane into pigtails, glancing discreetly, noticing ponies my age. My sweaty fur had dried in random cowlicks. Ponies probably thought I'd condescended to play hoof ball with the colts this morning; I smelled as horsey. Eyes followed me. I'd been recognized as special despite not being dressed, despite not wearing that jade coronet Celestia had gifted me—the one styled like my cutie mark...
My new stars and aurora cutie mark...
Every foal, filly, colt, and yearling followed my progress. No doubt, some knew more about me from the newspapers and society rags than I remembered about myself!
Why hadn't I planned for this?
Okay. A bit distracted, maybe, especially by stallions and new friends?
Friends. That word again.
I. Had. Friends.
And guards. I heard, then saw my shadows: Green and pink Pistachio and— Not Firefall, but Steady Pace. I'd sent Firefall home late last night. She'd likely gotten her shift changed. She was a mom. She needed rest.
I asked Pistachio. "Do you need to follow me to class?" Dozens and dozens of pairs of eyes watched.
"No. But you were oblivious leaving the castle."
I looked down guiltily, walking away from them. "Sorry."
"Doing our job, Ms. Glimmer."
Even that styling seemed a title. Likely everypony knew how I hated titles.
My horseshoes clicked as I mounted the travertine steps and looked back. Ponies watched, some whispering and gesturing happily, as if seeing a celebrity. Others frowned, looking angry as if I'd torn the social fabric from under them. In the hush, I heard the traffic on Castle Way Blvd clearly. Nopony moved to cross my path. One moved to the side of the portico, making way for my ascension (that word!).
Across the lawn, from the south, trotted a yellow mare with yellow streaks in her red mane. An eclipsing sun cutie mark graced her flank and saddlebags. She had to weave through the crowd; the other students didn't skitter out of her way the way they would have three days ago, the day I'd tricked Sunset Shimmer into coming with me after school to capture a crime boss.
"There you are, Starlight! You missed the yummy breakfast Citron cooked." She frowned at the guards, waving a hoof at them as she curved onto the entrance walkway, "Shoo! Go' way!"
I did my deer-in-the-carriage-lanterns imitation.
"Don't stand there," she said, waving me up as she approached the stairs, her magic forming on my hindquarters, shoving me forward. "We need to talk, Glimmer."
As I jumped toward the open doors, she stopped and rotated to glare at the other students. "What? She's the same filly that nearly blew up her horn in one of my classes, the same filly you ignored in the halls last week! Sheesh! It's not like the headmare isn't Princess Celestia, and her first and best protégé, moi, doesn't get to boss you around all the time. Get a life!"
She backhoofed my rump for all to see, causing me to half buck, then clatter into the entry hall. The sting brought me back to reality; I circled back to face her. Meanwhile, the students on the stairways and in the middle of the atrium, scattered down the halls. I recognized my history and home room teacher. The coward's eyes widened and she coward reversed back toward the classrooms.
When I glared and growled at Sunset, she shouted back in full bully T.A. mode even as she trotted past me, "Little fillies room, Glimmer. Now!" She snapped her tail and nailed my nose.
"Ow!" I swung around, but with enough sense not to send my friend flying as reflexive anger warmed my face and lit my horn.
She turned down the hall, glancing back. "Glimmer!"
Ponies dodged out of her path. I got with the program, rushing intentionally too fast to follow her, eyes looking down, muttering loudly, "Sorry! Sorry!"
Inside the white-tiled little fillies room, she yelled, "Everypony! Out! Now!"
Two fillies rushed from the sink, one leaving a makeup compact, the other leaving the tap open. A pink filly, no more than third year, squealed, flushed, and banged open the green stall door before galloping out, crying. She trailed tissue stuck to a rear hoof.
Sunset pulled me to the furthest sink, raising her hoof to call out. "Anypony listening in will get their ears boxed. I know who you are!"
Sunset's turquoise eyes assessed me from rump to nose, all while her ears swiveled and followed hoof falls in the hall. Her eyes didn't miss my disheveled fur, nor the bruise puffing up under my messenger bag. "You need to seriously thank me. A few of those dweebs almost bowed to you, then they all would have, though I'm sure they know all about you and your aversion to all things royal. It seems you're famous."
"No kidding!"
"I've set them straight. Everypony is talking about it now. So where's my—" she imitated my voice "—'Thank you, Sunset?'"
"Thank you, Sunset." I leaned forward and planted a peck on her velvety nose.
She jumped back, rubbing it vigorously. Funny, some months ago I'm pretty sure I'd been kissing her deeply, and had possibly rode her, though she'd never confirmed that. (I'd been mind-controlled.) "You're welcome, I guess."
I turned off the tap, then levitated the compact with a pale red rouge and blue eyeliner. I sniffed. Not cinnamon. I felt slightly disappointed, which said much about where my head was.
She turned the tap back on, grabbing paper towels. "Who'd you fight now?"
"Prince Blueblood."
The towels fluttered to the floor. "What?"
"He tried to kill me, but I fixed his wagon."
"And they didn't arrest you? Oh, wait, they probably wouldn't—"
"He's perfectly fine."
Shaking her head, she magicked off my messenger bag to examine my purpling bruise. "You're not."
"We're friends now. Fun and games. No worries."
"Gah! Remind me not to play with you two!"
I smirked—a double-entendre lurked in those words. My face warmed. I quickly said, "I am totally going to teach you how to protect yourself better."
"Yeah, last week wasn't my best effort. I still ache like I have a flu, but that night, outside the deli, I knew my body would shatter if I didn't snatch that envelope of nettle ewe waved under my nose. How I cast a spell at all, let alone not have my horn backfire the way yours did!? Father's medicine keeps down the craving; my ears are buzzing and I have a metallic taste in my mouth." She comically scraped her tongue with her front teeth. "Not my best effort, Starlight," she finished with a growl.
The tear that ran down her cheek belied her annoyed tone.
I watched it drip to the floor, darkening a dropped paper towel with a spatter.
"You saved me," she whispered. "Celestia explained it to me. It hurt listening to her, but everything you kept telling me I was doing wrong, with her, with my choices, was as wrong as you said it was. You saved me. I'll always remember."
She snuffled and looked away, trying to hide it.
I looked past her, toward the open door, which was far too empty considering the busy minutes before first classes. "Don't credit me too much. Safer would have been to snitch, to your father or Celestia, then to have run away from the horse apples I'd caused, but I got greedy and decided to break that the son of a dragon who had destroyed both our lives."
She shuddered, then let out a long breath. "Which led to a day without the sun, which fomented your brawl with Celestia in front of Donut Joe's, which resulted in the reason I marched you in here." She shucked more towels from the metal box, wet and wrung them out, then proceeded to neaten my fur. "If you don't start acting weird, like anything substantially changed from last week, or act like you want attention, or like you're afraid, most everypony will let the change slide. Act like your irascible self. Ignore ponies like they don't exist as you've always done. They'll get the idea." She dried and combed my fur with crumpled towels, then threw them into the flippy-topped rubbish bin. She redid my pigtails, too, tugging, pulling, braiding, then tying them together, looping them around my head like flower garlands. When I'd been a foal, my mane had never grown out enough to do that. While it pulled at the roots, it felt cooler than down.
"Thanks," I said.
"Back at you. But really, Blueblood?" She stiffened, ears perked forward, her tail straightening. "Not you and him, last night—?"
I trotted out of the bathroom, tail held high. "We've got classes. Later!"
"Not getting away that easily!"
I did outpace her, despite the artificial pastern. Athlete. Won the Baltimare Celestial Race, unicorn class, gold-plated medal to prove it. I've mentioned that, right?