...well, realistically, that meeting had just about been on the verge of breaking up anyway.
There had been one more thing which Diamond had wanted to do in the library, but she hadn't been sure if it was even possible. Adults said a lot of stupid things, and one of the more irritating was to tell adolescents that if they didn't know how to spell a word, they should just get a dictionary and look it up. Well, how were you supposed to do that without knowing what the proper spelling was in the first place? Phonetics didn't always work! And besides, even if they'd gotten the chance to check for a translation of 'Derpy' in the library's international dictionaries...
Some foreign languages had their own alphabets: Diamond had learned that early. A good international dictionary would have an Equestrian translation for each word -- and still wasn't necessarily going to organize the whole book that way. And sometimes you didn't even have a good translation: just somepony's guess at how a transcribed word was supposed to go. Or worse, there wouldn't even be a solid, single definition available, because yaks could use 'smash' in a lot of sentences and when speaking, did so without ever quite managing to explain what was apparently some rather exacting specific usage context.
But at least it was context. Diamond's completely understandable feelings regarding subtext had just gotten them all unfairly kicked out of the tree.
The trio of adolescents stood outside the library under a cold, recently-raised Moon, about halfway between the door and a snow-encrusted book fort. Visible breath formed clouds of frustration and because none of the trio happened to be pegasi, having that vapor generate electricity wasn't an option. Diamond briefly considered this to be something of a pity.
She was perfectly content with her own magic. But Princess Luna had been in Ponyville a few times, and Diamond freely acknowledged the impact of having lightning add a minor touch of emotional punctuation to events.
"...I've got to get home," Sweetie finally said. "I didn't tell my mom that I was going to be out very late, so it's not going to be all that long before she starts wondering where I am."
"And I've got homework," Silver sighed -- then followed that up with a wince. "We've all got homework. But you know how bad it is."
Diamond reluctantly nodded. Miss Cheerilee, as with what was probably just about every teacher in the planet, would claim not to be torturing her students: this was followed by assigning full bale-weights of counterevidence.
"We'll work on the problem some more tomorrow," she told them. "There's still time."
There was agreement. (This made Diamond feel a little better, because caring about her problems showed that they also cared about her. Also that they had their priorities straight.) Then they headed off in different directions, going towards their homes. And Diamond was going to the same place as always -- but the house was new, she hadn't been in it for very long, and the rebuild had taken long enough for certain things to reach the level of reflex...
It took two hoofsteps before she stopped following Sweetie, and forced her body to turn towards the older path.
The prey sense, which had apparently decided to spend a little extra time at the library, didn't come back for the rest of the cycle.
Kicked out.
Apparently writing up new entries for the card catalog hadn't been distracting enough.
If that book hadn't fallen over...
Or been dropped. Some ponies were just clumsy, although not on the near-transcendent level as the mailmare. Ponies dropped things in the store all the time -- there had been multiple examples strewn across the aisle floors today -- and that slippage should have been a lot more difficult when most of them were gripping with their teeth.
It had probably been a drop.
That had set it off, right? The librarian had heard a book drop, just an aisle or two away from where the trio had been. She'd gone to investigate, and that had brought her close enough to hear Diamond's brilliant idea. Everything which had happened afterwards was therefore entirely the fault of whoever had dropped the book.
And then she kicked us out...
It still felt oddly embarrassing, and that emotion focused too many of her thoughts on the totally unfair removal. Reviewing events as she trotted across town in the winter chill, because Miss Twilight had been wrong and Diamond wanted to be fully certain regarding the 'why'.
Technically, she was also doing exactly what the alicorn had told her. She was thinking really hard about what she'd said to be removed, and doing so while going home. A few blocks of intense thought eventually had her put the Book About Books idea into a stable for a while. This was partially because she needed to figure out exactly what the startup requirements were, with the rest centering around a need to discover whether Cliff Notes had filed any claiming paperwork.
...banished from the library. For one day. (She was considering whether to make another attempt tomorrow.) And they'd even been allowed to trot out under their own power. Theoretically, if the librarian were ever to become truly angry, 'trotting' wouldn't necessarily be an option. A truly mad pony might kick somepony out of a building. With the alicorn, the list of possibilities included 'throw'. Or, given the way a unicorn field operated, 'fling'.
It could have been worse. Miss Twilight clearly hadn't realized which books they'd been after. There would have been a Lecture and if the librarian had been in a particularly bad mood (which merely being in the presence of genius seemed to have unfairly arranged), she might have sent a note about Age-Inappropriate Reading Material to Diamond's father. And she would have had it sent by dragon.
..and that was the bookstore on the left. Diamond briefly considered trying to go inside and spot the titles she needed, but ultimately went past. Miss Bluestocking didn't always pay full attention to customers, but -- Diamond could see the store's interior: she would have been the only shopper there. And for Diamond to go into the bookstore, alone...
Barnyard Bargains had a Books section. It mostly focused on bestsellers, because books took up a lot of space and her daddy preferred to leave the full breadth of the publication world to the specialists. He could go into the bookstore without issue, because he picked up quite a bit of his reading material there. Diamond, however, might be perceived as going on an independent scouting gallop.
Or maybe she'd said something about Miss Bluestocking once.
Or the mare's cockatiel.
She couldn't remember...
So she passed by, and that was a decision made out of both practicality and emotion. Because love might have been offered via finite supply, but frustration worked on a quota system and as far as Diamond was concerned, she was well over.
If I can't get the books...
What about just watching a professional do it? Silver didn't think anypony was going to let them into a show -- but Diamond's experience had taught her that if you just strode forward, head held high and acting like you belonged in a place --
-- then she was probably still going to be challenged on her age.
Diamond was already taller than Miss Twilight (which admittedly didn't take much), but the librarian just about always came across as an adult -- physically. The adolescent wasn't entirely sure why. Maybe it was the near-constant exasperation with so many of the ponies around her. And if that was the case, then it was extra unfair because Diamond already had that.
It wasn't her fault. She just looked young. She'd tried to come across as older before, and it hadn't worked. Diamond had once tried to see a restricted movie, and browning her teeth to add extra authenticity into her claimed years still hadn't gotten her through the cinema doors. There were supposed to be other tricks you could do with cosmetics to sell the non-magical illusion, but she was almost sure that Miss Fleur wasn't about to teach adolescents how to put on that kind of makeup.
Or she could just try to sneak in. And then if anypony caught her, all she had to do was explain that she was only trying to see how it was done and in the name of education, they had to let her stay --
-- that probably wasn't going to work either.
Ponies passed her on the street. Quite a few of them were heading in the opposite direction, because she was close to the train station now and some of the early commuters were beginning to come home. Several adults looked at her. A few indulged in Moon-revealed glares.
Did I say something about you?
She tried to remember. She examined their features, along with whatever winter clothing had left visible of their forms. Trying to bring back previous inspiration without letting any echoing words reach her voice.
But nothing came.
Secretary Of Insults.
She composed the classified ad in her head. A few more hoofsteps had her mentally underlining the core requirements for research and interview skills.
A servant greeted her when she came through her own front door. Cameo reared up against the terrarium glass, waited to be let out and then perched in Diamond's mane. And... that was all.
She made sure Cameo's miniature plates and trough were properly placed on the dining room table. That way, she wasn't eating dinner alone.
It was natural. Her father was working late, because he tried to work all of the store's hours -- and even earth pony endurance wasn't enough to let him constantly attempt the feat as a straight haul. There were days when he left the house before breakfast in order to be part of the opening crew, and those occasions would often see him meet up with Diamond on what, in spring, would be an afternoon Sun-lit road: one coming home from school, the other from work. And from there, they would trot together.
But if he left late, then he got back late. And during the store's busiest times, like Hearth's Warming, if Diamond knew that she would be asleep when he finally came home from a pre-dawn-to-well-past-dusk shift... that was when she made sure to have a warming pan placed under his bedsheets. The thermal sealing on the house was exactly up to the level which they'd paid for, but apparently there was something muscle-soothing about the presence of a warming pan.
A new house. A new bed in his room.
The same type of bed.
He came home late, when all the servants were asleep, without Diamond to welcome him because he insisted that she get enough rest, and the warming pan was the only thing in his bed...
"It's not the same."
-- it couldn't be the mailmare. She wouldn't let that happen. She had to protect him.
She also had to try not to think about it too much, because Diamond's stomach seemed to be wired directly to her brain and if she was going to come up with the plan which would save her daddy, it was vitally important that she keep her food down.
So he wasn't there for dinner. That was normal. It probably meant she was going to be alo -- with Cameo for breakfast on the next morning, because he tended to alternate shifts. And he would check on her while she slept, because he cared about her and always wanted to make sure she was okay.
She did her best to eat. Supervised Cameo's meal, because somepony had to make sure the jeweled scarab was eating properly. Being a responsible pet owner who happened to have the Cornucopia Effect on standby meant Diamond provided the growing of Cameo's food supply with her direct magical attention and, after Tirek, had arranged for a backup greenhouse. Just in case.
She was holding off on briefing the scarab regarding the day's events. Having a servant occasionally carrying trays in and out meant her bedroom offered more privacy. Besides, she was focusing too much on forcing digestion to make any long speeches and even if she'd wanted to launch into a full presentation, the new dining room no longer provided her with dramatic echoes.
There were times when she looked at the place where her father sat. Hoped his day was going well, and that he would make just a little too much noise when he came up to her door. She'd woken up at his approach before, risking opening one eye just enough to see a tired, proud, happy shadow standing guard at the entrance, and... it made her feel better.
Her food was getting a little cold, because she had to eat slowly. But her heart was warm.
They loved each other.
Each was the only pony whom the other had in the world.
That wasn't how it was supposed to be. But that was how everything had turned out.
And that was how it had to stay.
Unfortunately, the definition of 'love' didn't include 'lets me get away with anything', which was why she was currently (and quite possibly permanently) stuck doing her own homework. Something which a teacher's sadism felt needed to occupy most of the evening, especially when Diamond couldn't even ask (order) the store's accounting department to look over her math any more.
She went over her day with Cameo: the scarab made leg-weaving gestures of sympathy regarding Diamond's unfair library treatment while being appropriately wingcase-raising intrigued by the Book About Books idea. And all too soon after that, it was time for bed --
-- no. There was one more thing to do first.
Diamond made sure Cameo was close to a source of heat. Got the balcony door open, stepped into the chill of a winter night, and looked up at Moon.
"I need to know that we can work together on this," she told the orb. "And you've got to prove that you're listening. So you have to --"
-- Moon had to -- what?
She wasn't actually sure what it was capable of. But Sun and Moon worked together with the Princesses in order to keep the world alive, and being able to do that seemed to suggest greater possibilities.
Maybe the best way to figure out what those were was to let Moon take the initiative.
"-- you have to do something to help me," she decided. "But you can decide out what that is. This time. As long as it helps." She paused. "And I have to know that you did it. So make that happen."
The responsibilities of leadership had been properly tended. Diamond went to bed.
She didn't wake up during the night. She didn't have to. Her father would have guarded her.
She hadn't expected her daddy to be in the dining room for breakfast, and he wasn't.
She also hadn't been expecting to find a note on her bench, and she got one anyway.
Diamond,
Come directly to the store after school. I'll be waiting for you in my office. We need to discuss something important.
And that was it.
She stared at it for a while. No extra words appeared. Then she considered going into the kitchen, getting a lemon (or rather, half of one) and slowly rubbing it all over the paper, just in case that did the trick.
There was a tiny downdraft brushing against her mane. Cameo had ridden with her into the dining room, and the little wings were buzzing.
Go to the store.
Waiting for me.
Important...
The last 'important' discussion had led to her father asking the mailmare for a date.
Maybe they're getting marri --
Diamond's stomach flipped.
-- no. That was impossible. They hadn't even been on that first date yet.
That first date...
Her teeth nipped at the note: some frantic swallowing managed to keep it from being discolored by anything more than saliva. She removed it from her bench, carefully deposited the paper on the table, and then took her seat.
Several foodless minutes were spent in reviewing everything she'd recently done. Diamond didn't really feel as if there was anything which warranted a summons. The librarian hadn't been that mad.
This was followed by going over a much more worrisome category: everything he might think she had done. Or rather, what somepony else could have accused her of doing. Because there were adults who made up stories about other ponies and if the target couldn't fully track the trail, they might easily decide it led back to her. There was a certain degree of precedent.
So if she tried to look at it that way --
-- she had to stop after a while. It was like trying to gallop across the entire planet on three legs.
Then she realized breakfast was over, she hadn't actually eaten anything, and it was time to get dressed for school.
Maybe he just wants to give me The Talk. The one about sex. And the office is because he'll feel more comfortable there. It might be easier for him than it would be at home. Which was almost starting to feel like the best-case scenario...
Diamond checked on Cameo's position, got off the bench, and headed for her wardrobe.
(She wouldn't be all that far into dealing with the results of the actual discussion before she began to actively wish it had been The Talk.)
(It would have been an improvement.)
She made sure to coordinate her colors. As the current week wasn't quite over yet, Diamond elected to keep going with her current mane and tail styles: she didn't want to switch up too early or too often. It was best to give the intended audience some time for proper reactions, and she continued to follow that policy even while feeling that the audience should have been hoof-stomping multiple rounds of applause starting from several moons back.
The Weather Bureau was still allowing her to freely attempt some degree of the layered look. The actual layering was threatening to paralyze her shoulders and hips. However, there was significant evidence which suggested that as long as she maintained some degree of knee flexibility, then mobility wasn't going to be a real problem. Miss Pie existed and she moved like that all the time.
Diamond examined herself in the mirror. Harsh blue eyes eventually located her position at the center of the garments, then determined that she absolutely found herself appealing. However, she did allow that it was mostly due to the all-too-rare possession of good taste.
She had to be attractive.
Silver, clearly the best-qualified to judge, was oddly reluctant to talk about that.
Her daddy had always said Diamond was pretty...
...but he felt that way about the mailmare...
"Diamond?"
It was an oddly slow vocalization of her name. Something which didn't so much suggest that a stupid boy had been trying to remember what it was and needed to make sure as it implied that Snails had just tried saying it for the third time.
"Huh?" was the best she could do on short notice.
"I asked if you came up with anything overnight," the tall colt apparently repeated. "For your dad."
"Um..." wasn't much of a followup.
"You're moving kind of weird," Snips decided. "Even after figuring for all the stuff you've got on." ('Stuff' had her repressing a significant degree of fuming.) His head tilted slightly to the right. "Did ya have breakfast? Because you don't always do well with food when you're thinking about problems."
"And," Silver just had to add, "you've been looking distracted during the whole trot." With open concern, "Did something else happen?"
She told them about the note.
"And you ain't done nothing," Snips ungrammatically checked.
"No," Diamond decided, because she was still sure that her non-offense hadn't been bad enough for the librarian to send anything. "But it doesn't mean somepony didn't say I did."
"You can't worry too much about that," Snails philosophically observed. "Not unless you find out that's what happened, and then it's like you always say. That's when you get to explain."
But he doesn't listen to me the same way any more.
He loves me. But he doesn't always believe me.
Not more than anypony else. Not first.
"I guess..." was as far as the verbal part needed to go.
"It could be the toy show," Silver pointed out. "That's coming up in a couple of moons, right? You always go with him, to consult. And this is around when he'd book the tickets."
Diamond thought about it.
"He would have written that down." Which was when a few less-than-ideal brain cells went off, and the brute idiocy of Hope reared its stupid head. "But he's been distracted lately. By that mare. So maybe..."
See him at the office, because that's where he'd have the convention layout. We can work out the route. Plan the attack. The map always gets delivered to the store --
-- the map would have been delivered by the mailmare.
"I want to come over after you get back," Snips proudly announced. "To see the haul." With a slow shake of his head, "If I'd known that toy companies give out samples at their conventions, then maybe I would have thought about going for a mark in toys." He grinned. "You always bring back the best samples."
"You wanna meet up during recess again?" Snails checked. "Talk about the date stuff then?"
Which at least proved that Snails could use that form of the word 'date' in a sentence while having some idea of what it meant. "Maybe. If we get the chance."
"What about meeting you outside the store?" Silver sympathetically offered. "After it's done. We can talk about whatever happened, and then --"
Diamond shook her head. "It'll be near the end of the day shift. He'll probably trot home with me. You don't have to come."
Why does it have to be at the office?
Silver physically paused, and so Diamond hesitated in her own trot. A gentle forehoof tried to rub at her right shoulder, and mostly wound up shifting cloth layers across each other.
"It'll be okay," her best friend told her. "We've still got plenty of time."
She wound up feeling unfocused for what was pretty much the whole day. It felt as if a giant version of the note was hovering just over her head, casting a thought-dampening shadow across her brain.
Maybe it's just the toy show.
He's just a little distracted...
They didn't get anything much of anything done at recess -- well, the boys managed to wind up with fragments of half-melted snow deep-pressed into their fur, but that clearly didn't count. Besides, there had been other priorities. The first part of the school day had seen lessons streaming through Diamond's ears. This had been followed by moving down to her mouth and trying to express themselves through a slowly-moving quill. She didn't feel like she was getting enough of them. And while Silver no longer allowed Diamond to copy her homework, her best friend was still okay with sharing notes.
They reached the afternoon break. Silver asked to see what Diamond had written down, adjusted her glasses three times, and failed to translate from the scrawl.
"I'm just going to make two copies today," she decided.
"Thank you."
"You need to eat something."
"After the store," Diamond said. "After I know."
It'll be okay.
It has to be okay.
It's not like he's going to be dating two mares at once.
...miniherd marriages are legal, but it usually starts with two. Then they have to mutually agree on a third...
...there hasn't even been one date yet --
-- there can't be one date --
"Where are you going?"
"Bathroom," was delivered on the gallop.
And then she was walking through the store. Her father's store. The flagship. The embodiment of everything he worked so hard to achieve.
His store. His aisles. His employees --
-- they were looking at her.
All of them were looking at her. Even the cashiers were getting in on it. And when it came to the exact kind of look...
...they all feel bad for me?
No, that wasn't the expression. It was more towards -- anticipation. Worry. Concern. They were nervous...
Some of them were talking. About work, about what they were going to do when they got off shift. About life. But words faded out as she approached, with soft syllables reborn in her wake. They wouldn't talk around her, they started again as soon as they decided she was out of range, and she couldn't make out what they were saying.
She went through the Employees Only door. Entered the back of the store, with her legs maneuvering through familiar territory on their own. Diamond's brain was somewhat occupied.
'We should start with the dolls this year. Not just for the other stores: for Ponyville. I think it's been long enough since the Smarty Pants Incident. Doll sales could finally go back up again.'
'It was just an idea for a new kind of book, and she didn't like that. Maybe if you let me tell you what it is --'
-- please let it be the toy show...
The door to her father's office was open. It always was.
Diamond hesitated, while she was still just out of sight. Slowly raised her left forehoof, then carefully knocked on the frame.
"I heard you coming down the hall, Diamond." The most familiar voice she knew seemed to have a small smile lurking behind it, and most of her stomach untwisted. "I do know what your trot sounds like. Come in."
She carefully entered --
the convention floor map isn't on the desk
he could take it out at any minute
-- what was actually a rather simple office, and remained so no matter how many times she tried to give him decorating tips. The desk served as a desk. It also could have been a declaration of wealth and power, but he insisted that 'desk' came with the same number of drawers.
The bench for visitors was nicer than his own. There was a map of the nation on one wall, with pins indicating the location of each franchise. Another section hosted two pieces of framed artwork.
It was very bad artwork. Diamond's foalhood talents had never gotten anywhere close to drawing. But he'd had them framed anyway.
"Sit down," he requested.
She climbed up onto the bench. It wasn't hard. Her legs had been getting longer.
He waited until she was settled in, then looked her over. And the tired eyes were kind.
I'm not in trouble.
I'm not.
I'd see it if I was. He doesn't look upset at all.
She was starting to feel hungry.
"I've been waiting to have this talk with you," her father gently began. "For -- quite some time." The right corner of his mouth briefly twitched up: a half-smile. "In a way, it's been planned since the day you were born..."
She managed not to wriggle.
It's The Talk!
...it's just The Talk.
Let him say everything. Even if it's obvious and sort of stupid.
Don't show him up.
"Whatever you need to tell me," Diamond calmly said. "I'm ready."
He nodded. Took a slow, steady breath, and the smile became full.
"You're going to start doing intern work at the store."
Diamond blinked.
In a way, it could be seen as amazing. The only outwards sign of her entire digestive system spontaneously tying itself into a knot was blinking. Getting a reaction out of Snails with her mane and tail streaks, that was about twenty times harder than it ever should have been, but when it came to her body's reactions demonstrating near-impossible levels of understatement...
Words.
Right. She needed words. Words were something which existed and she needed them, so they could start to present themselves right now. Furthermore, they were free. And they were equally free to show up at any moment --
Her father's brow creased.
"Diamond?"
"I --" Oh, of course: the shortest, most overused possible candidate. "-- I thought..."
(She hadn't really thought about it at all.)
"That it would be in summer?" he wrongly guessed.
Diamond felt her head go into a nod. After a few seconds, she decided the motion was too fast, then tried to find a way of making it stop.
"No." And he chuckled. "You taught me a lesson once, remember?"
As words went, "I..." both clearly wanted the work and had no actual idea what it was doing.
"You and the other children of Ponyville." The smile got a little strong. "And a few of the adults, during the protest about the back-to-school sales starting far too early. That summer is for being young. I want you to have fun this summer, Diamond. So I changed the start of the plan to winter. And I was just waiting for the Hearth's Warming aftermath to fully clear, because an intern shouldn't be dealing with that level of returns. This is the slowest period we have, and it'll let you ease in --"
"-- an intern," was purely a vocabulary desperation hire.
"You have to learn the entire business," her father stated. "From the ground up. Interning will let that happen."
It's not just the ground up.
Interns spend a lot of time in the basement --
-- this isn't right, my talent isn't --
-- his is for business, a pure business mark, and mine --
It was possible that some of that had made it to her face. A tiny slip, just enough to let her look worried for a single moment. He noticed.
"It won't interfere with your other job."
"My -- other..."
"We're still going to the toy show together," he smiled. "I need my best consultant. I'm hoping to get the convention material in a few days."
"When..." She couldn't gulp. Swallowing would bring saliva down, and any addition to the system risked bringing bile back up. "...did you decide it had to be now?"
"The other night," he admitted. "Or at least, that's when I finalized it. I did tell you that I wanted to speak with you about something else, but..." A little more carefully, "I did consider postponing it until next year. I was thinking that with my -- starting again, it might be too much at once. But on the way home last night... I was taking my time, thinking about everything. Including that. And then I looked up at Moon."
You what?
"And when I did..." her father finished, "it just felt right."
You looked at Moon and you felt --
-- that TRAITOR!
"Diamond?"
She blinked again. Her body was clearly going with what it knew.
"You look like a young lady with a question," her father decided, which just proved that he was in no way ready to date because he could not read female moods.
"...who's my boss?"
She watched him fight back the laugh.
"You're an intern, Diamond," half-private mirth told her. "Everypony is your boss."
"And... why did I need to come into the office?"
"It's not because you're starting today," he failed to reassure her.
"Oh."
"Tomorrow will be fine."
"...oh."
"You're in the office," her father explained, "because there's paperwork which needs to be filled out for a new hire. Even an intern. So we'll do that now. And we'll go over it together."
I'm not --
-- my talent --
In Diamond's judgment, he very nearly picked up on something.
"Don't worry," he gently told her. "I'll translate any legalese which managed to sneak in. And then I'll show you where to sign."
She took up the offered quill in her teeth, scrawled here and there. This was deemed acceptable.
Her father, beaming and proud and happy, asked her to step out of the office. Wait by the cashier section while he filed everything away. And then they would trot home together.
Diamond was nearly halfway through her unwatched stagger down Cookery before she realized that he'd never mentioned anything about a salary.