The Sweetie Chronicles: Fragments

by Wanderer D

Night's Favored Child Pt. 4

Sitting on the grand bed of the Equestrian Princess, Sweetie Belle and Twilight Sparkle slurped at their milkshakes. The younger unicorn had thrown her uniform on the floor lackadaisically in her eagerness to talk to her friend. A quick detour to the kitchen before they headed for her room rewarded them with their creamy dairy beverages, though Nightmare Moon had disapproved on the grounds that it would spoil their appetites. That disapproval did not last long when Twilight had stared up at her mother with the most pathetic, heartbreaking expression she could muster.

A pang of regret crossed Sweetie's mind at the thought of what she would have been like as a mother for Distant Shores. How easily she would've broken had her daughter asked with those puppy-eyes for something.

She hid her thoughts, however, as soon as she realized where that was going, and that Twilight or Nightmare Moon might catch on to her mood.

“So, what did you do all day?” Twilight asked.

Sweetie sighed, leaning back against the bed and resting her head on it. “Avoided politicians for the most part. I met briefly with the Inquisitor and North Star. The first I like, the second…” 

Sweetie pursed her lips, considering the implications of telling Twilight more details about North Star, but soon rolled her eyes. North Star was under the eye of both the Empress and the Inquisitor. If she tried anything, they would know… and if she did something and escaped… well, Sweetie could deal with that herself. “The second should consider purchasing a pacifier just to help her shut up.” She snorted, but looked at Twilight with a mischievous glint in her eye. “I did, however, get my own knight.” She nonchalantly slurped some milkshake. “Swore an oath and everything.”

Twilight’s eyes widened. “Who? What happened? Why?”

“Well…” Sweetie giggled. “His name is Cirrus, he’s a pegasus, and he thought I was the most interesting Lady in the castle. So we talked and he swore to be my knight!” Sweetie sighed, her thoughts going back to the slightly older pegasus. “He’s charming. And smart. And loyal. I like him.”

"Wait, didn't you date a pegasus before? I thought you were into mares?"

Sweetie felt a stab of pain straight to her heart, and her thoughts went to Distant Shores: the daughter she never met. Then to Swiftwing, the wife she didn't remember, but both of whom she had loved in a life that had been tortured by malignant manipulation to the point where she had been unable to bear it.

It hadn't been the first time she had died. But it was the first time she had truly lost everything. Her wife. Her child. Her memories.

As much as that Twilight was a monster, she had asked a very true question: Was it really her life if there was nothing of it within her at all? Once the broken Sweetie had—

Sweetie forced herself to the present, and deflected her feelings. "Disappointed?" she forced a confident grin, hiding her actual dark thoughts and batted her eyelashes at Twilight..

Twilight blushed adorably. "N-no! Just saying…"

The unicorn shook her head, smiling. "I do like females, but I also never stopped liking males," she sighed, glancing warily at the young princess. "Although as much as I have grown to appreciate other species, it seems like I have a type. That's unexpected."

"How so?" Twilight asked, leaning in, eyes bright.

"Well, my first crush was the intellectual type unicorn, but… I seem to have a thing for pegasi. Maybe it's the wings. Now that I think about it, Gilda was kinda hot too."

"Gilda?"

"Oh, she was a griffon that visited my hometown a while ago."

Twilight made a face. "Griffons."

"Anyway, we're here to talk about Cirrus. And he's definitely all pony." Sweetie said when she saw Twilight's expression sour.

“Cirrus… Cirrus” the Princess muttered, her eyes almost crossing as she sifted through her memories to try and recall the name. “Oh, oh! House Septentrio, correct? He’s Shining Armor’s friend!”

Sweetie nodded excitedly. “Yes! That’s him! When he told me he knew Shining Armor I immediately thought of you. You should have Shining be your knight!”

Twilight tilted her head, thinking on this with eyes glued to the ceiling. “Perhaps… I’ve never really thought about having a personal champion before, but Shining Armor has always been nice to me.” She grinned. “He calls me ‘Twily’ when he’s sure there’s nopony around to hear him say it.”

Sweetie’s eyes were wide and shimmering with emotion. “He does?! Awww! That’s adorable!” She grinned. “It’s like you’re his little sister or something!”

A small smile came to the lavender filly’s lips. “He does act like that sometimes… I’ve always felt comfortable around him.”

Sweetie felt the sudden urge to speak up but decided to fight the temptation by taking a long drink of milkshake. She cut it short, however when the cold got to her head, making it throb painfully. “Gah! Brainfreeze! I didn't know I could still get brainfreeze!”

Twilight giggled. “Here. Mom taught me this trick.” Her horn flashed and the brainfreeze subsided almost immediately. “I usually cast it before drinking or eating something cold.”

Sweetie blinked. “Wait. That spell… it’s familiar…” she thought for a moment, trying to figure out where she had felt it before. “Is that the same spell that Blueblood used on me when I got too drunk that second time?” She shook her head. “No… but he—yes! He did have a spell for brain freeze! And one for sugar high.” She tilted her head, confused. “Now that I think about it, I could swear he cast the sugar high one on me all the time. I should have asked him to teach them to me.”

“I can teach you!” Twilight clapped her hooves together eagerly. 

“Sounds like a deal!”  Sweetie agreed. “I can’t wait to go to school with you, imagine all the things I’ll learn!”

“It’s not just exclusively magic, remember. For that we have general classes and mentors for one-on-one learning. Mom mentors me but I have no doubt she can handle mentoring two apprentices.”

Sweetie laughed. “It’ll be amazing, learning from you two.”

“Of course, any help I will give you will come at a price.” Twilight grinned devilishly at her friend.

“What do you mean?” Sweetie asked, trying to guess her friend’s intentions, and trying not to think too much of the prize the other Twilight had cashed in without her ever agreeing to anything. “I don’t think I have any spells I could teach you that wouldn’t land me in jail.”

The Princess leaned forward. “Tell me more about Cirrus. You said you like him, huh?”

Sweetie felt her face grow hot and immediately snagged a pillow with her magic, burying her face in it. “I never said that!” she said through the layers of feathers, not daring to look at Twilight.

“You did. And you went on about how loyal and charming he is and you sighed like some of my old friends from the orphanage did when they dreamed about dashing, gallant knights that would come and sweep them off their hooves.”

Sweetie was silent for a moment, before she shouted into the pillow for almost a whole minute. Eventually, she lowered it down, revealing a very flushed face. “I can’t believe you’d call me out on that! But yes, if you really want to know, he’s very handsome!” She looked down and grumbled something.

Twilight’s grin grew with her victory. “What did you say, I didn’t quite catch that?”

“I said… that he has a very nice voice. And I love his mane.” Sweetie mumbled just loud enough for Twilight to hear before slurping at her milkshake.

“He is kind of handsome.” Twilight nodded, blushing herself. “Shining Armor said he is a really big ladies’ stallion though.”

Sweetie frowned a bit, still slurping her milkshake before lowering it down. “He’s not like that… I trust him.”

“He is supposed to be very loyal and very chivalrous,” Twilight added hurriedly. “Shining Armor says he’s a great knight.”

“I know he’s a charmer, but… I—” Sweetie stopped, looking slightly mortified. “Um, never mind.”

“Go on…” A purple hoof motioned for her to continue.

“Is it warm in here? I think I need another milkshake. When’s dinner?”

“Dinner’s not for another half hour and you can have my milkshake if you finish your sentence.” Twilight’s grin threatened to split her head in two and her eyes held Sweetie’s intensely, hungry for information. 

Sweetie shouted into the pillow for the second time that night. Twilight burst into uncontrollable laughter, clutching at her sides while the other unicorn glared at Twilight, completely unamused. 

“Okay, okay, I’ll stop teasing!” She sniffed, wiping the mirthful tears from her eyes. Twilight peered at her friend curiously. “Isn’t he a little old for you though?”

Sweetie shrugged. “Nah.” She sighed, looking at her empty glass morosely. “I don’t even know if he's attracted to me.” Her eyes widened and she turned to face Twilight, a panicking look growing on her face. “What if he does IS attracted to me?”

“Um…” Twilight stared at the white unicorn, looking rather uncomfortable. “I really don’t think I’m the best pony to answer that. Maybe there’s a book on it we can find?”

“A book?!” Sweetie placed her hooves on Twilight’s shoulders. “A trashy romance novel won’t help us! I mean, not right away! I only really know my way around mares! What if he tries to kiss me? I mean, I’ll kiss him back, but—” she took a deep breath, channeling her inner Rarity, hoof to the forehead and all. “W-what if he proposes?”

Sweetie’s face went blank and she stared straight ahead for a full minute before she tilted sideways in a fake dead faint.

It took a moment for Twilight to catch on, but she wouldn't stop giggling the rest of the night.

The following day (or more accurately, night, as Sweetie reminded herself), the Empress, her daughter and their guest broke their fast with oats and cinnamon cereal. Their conversation only consisted of extrapolations of their plans for the night and the occasional ribbing from Twilight on the subject of Cirrus. The princess left Sweetie and her mother with a good-natured laugh.  Sweetie felt her cheeks aflame, glancing at Nightmare Moon. The mare wore a sly smile.

“So...” the Empress began when the sound of Twilight shutting the front door reached the kitchen. “I think I share my daughter’s interest about your interest with Ser Cirrus.”

Sweetie felt her face go redder. “Ohno. I-I I don’t know… I promise. I think he’s handsome and loyal but I'm not going to encourage any sort of relationship.”

“Well, I can always grant you a small barony somewhere if you would like. I am sure then his parents would not be opposed to matching him with you.” The Empress’s eyes sparkled mischievously.

“Eep!” Sweetie tried to hide behind the now empty glass of milk she had been drinking. “I-I don’t think we’re quite there yet, your Majesty!”

“He must be taken with you, to have pledged to be your champion after only one meeting.”

Sweetie groaned. “I’m going to have to live with this, aren’t I?” She sighed and poked a stray crumble on the table. “Teasing aside, I am wondering if I did the right thing by accepting his pledge?”

Nightmare Moon considered this for a moment. “If you are going to be staying with us as an honoured guest with my seal, it would do you good to have a champion, especially a knight such as Cirrus. He is well-bred and well-respected and I have heard he takes his duties and vows very, very seriously. Already you seem to have attracted the attention of North Star and I would not be surprised if the Bluebloods or some other nobles are drawn to you as well. Ser Cirrus will ward off unwanted would-be suitors and some of the peers who are less adept at the political game of the Empire.”

Sweetie nodded. “I’m hardly fit for it myself. I’m not made for political warfare… halfway through a conversation I might want to throttle somepony.”

“The Canterlot Music College will be an excellent escape for you then. There are not many opportunities for you to be dragged into a confrontation while you are studying there for the next few weeks,” the Empress said. “When Twilight’s winter break comes, and you spend time with her during the day, I doubt you will be hassled much. Her status tends to make ponies very wary around her.”

Sweetie’s eyes glinted with undisguised excitement, and she leaned forward over the table, all thoughts of Cirrus forgotten for the moment. “I’m so excited! I’ll be learning from the greatest musicians!”

Nightmare Moon smiled and nodded. “I have acquired you tutors in vocals, the cello and the violin. I do not know if you are well versed with the last, but it would do you some good to diversify your talents. You may continue to study at the college part-time when you start your spring semester at the Imperial Academy with Twilight. Provided you do well in your studies, of course.”

“Oh, I will! I promise!” Sweetie swore, nodding her head for emphasis. “I won’t waste this opportunity. Thank you so much, your Majesty.”

Sweetie hurried to finish her breakfast after that, excitement fuelling her actions. She had little in the way of a formal education; it had been years since she last stepped into a classroom and even then it had been Miss Cheerilee’s elementary school, and her tutors had been very specialized. Now she was going to be in one of Canterlot’s most hallowed halls of learning, studying music under what were probably the most gifted teachers in their areas of expertise.

After a quick spell from the Empress cleaned the crockery and cutlery, and Sweetie’s teeth were brushed, Nightmare Moon marched out of the Royal Apartments with Sweetie in tow. At the entrance to the palace, the unicorn found a chariot waiting for them. It wasn’t the golden one most often favored by Celestia. This chariot was silver and dark blue, colors that seemed to be part of the imperial palette if the banners and decor of the palace were to be taken as sources. It was drawn by the bat-winged Honor Guard. Sweetie had learned from Twilight that most of these stallions were normal pegasi and their outfit’s distinctive dark armor were imbued with illusion spells as a salute to the thestrals who made up the Empire’s first Honour Guard.

They were in the air, soaring in an arc over Canterlot. From above, the divisions of the city could be seen clearly. The neighborhoods near to the palace were occupied by manors, mansions and parks, as well as numerous affluent shops. These were all comfortably spaced and there was more green than cobbled roads or pavement. The opposite side of town, hidden away in the plateau of the mountain, was somewhat more crowded, home to the middle class of Canterlot. Nightmare Moon took the opportunity to point out Twilight’s former home, an orphanage that rested on the outskirts of the city – far away enough to have its own field for play and activities. It was apparently a wealthy orphanage, funded by numerous interests.

Between these two districts laid the downtown. There was little greenery here; blocks and blocks of residences and buildings were crowded together. Several large constructs rose above the rest of the city, such as an opera house, a hotel, and a great domed cathedral. It was on the border of the downtown and the middle-class district that the chariot touched down, and Sweetie was greeted by a grand, archaic building that must have been the College of Music. The complex followed the sloping, bulbous baroque architecture so characteristic of Canterlot, though it had a certain flavor to it that made it more jocular, fluid and graceful.

“Here we are,” Nightmare Moon announced. “The Canterlot College of Music, founded circa seven-hundred and forty Imperial Era.”

There was a small reception awaiting them just outside the main door. Several mares and stallions lined up and bowed in unison as their sovereign entered their establishment. The tall black alicorn basked in their admiration with all due regality and stopped before the gathering, beckoning them all to rise.

“I appreciate your coming to receive me at the entrance, Lady Clavel, but I am just here to introduce my beneficiary, Lady Sweetie Belle, to the college.”

A mare stepped forward, dressed in a dark red garment that was long enough to almost brush the floor. It was decorated with black lace and rubies, accentuating the golden tone of her fur and creating a striking contrast with her blue eyes and mane. 

“Your Majesty,” she bowed again, quicker and shorter than her first. Her voice was tinged with a husky Iburrian accent. “Muchas gracias for visiting our establishment. We are honored to accept a student personally recommended by you, especially if she is as talented as you say.”

“She is, I assure you that.”

The mare bowed again. “No disrespect intended, Your Majesty.” She turned and clapped, three ponies stepping forward. “Tutors for Lady Sweetie Belle. Don Deep Note of House Gardener, our foremost cellist.” A prim, dour grey earth pony stallion with white muttonchops bowed stiffly at his cue. “Señora Decibella of the violin.” An old unicorn mare, green with a grey mane in a bun and blue pince-nez spectacles bobbed with some wobbling. “And our newest star, Señorita Fleur-de-Lis of House Ambroisie, who has a voice that would make Cheimon weep.”

Although traveling with Blueblood had gotten her used to a certain amount of obsequiousness, Sweetie was still feeling very self-conscious. These grandmasters would certainly expect a lot from her, and while this might be another Fleur, and she would take the place of Chrysalis and Sapphire Shores in teaching her to sing, she now had one more mentor to make proud.

As each tutor was introduced, Sweetie bowed deferentially. She was no Octavia or Sapphire Shores, but she would do them proud. And the first step was to give her new tutors a good impression. Hopefully being personally recommended by Nightmare Moon would not create impossible expectations of her.

“I trust she will not disappoint,” Nightmare Moon said.

Clavel smiled. “She is impeccably mannered, Your Majesty. I think she will live up to the honor of being personally recommended by the Empress of Equestria.” 

“I will pick you up at four, Sweetie Belle,” The Empress said and gave a curt nod to Clavel. “Well, everything should be in order. Lady Clavel, thank you for your welcome and for accepting a student under such unique circumstances.”

“Think nothing of it, Your Majesty.” The lady bowed as the Empress left.

Sweetie Belle followed suit, bowing low to Nightmare Moon, listening to her walk away before straightening up. When she faced Clavel, she found the mare looking down at her imperiously.

“Which would you like to practice first, Señorita Belle? The cello, the violin or vocals?” She asked the filly, disarmingly abrupt.

Sweetie blinked. “Um, I have practiced both the cello and singing, I have never tried to play the violin, however.”

“I hope you will take to it as well as Her Majesty says you have taken to the cello.” The golden mare shrugged. “If not, then I suppose you will have more time to spend on refining what you are actually good at.”

Sweetie cleared her throat and straightened out, although her smile made the pose somehow playful. “I’m sure that under the tutelage of some of the greatest musicians I will have no problem stepping up to the challenge, Doña Clavel.”

That earned her a bemusedly-raised eyebrow. Lady Clavel turned to the stallion with the muttonchops. “Don Note, will you be so kind as to take the first few hours with Sweetie Belle?”

“Certainly, Lady Clavel,” the noble answered in a gruff baritone that well-suited his name. He looked at Sweetie with hard eyes. “Come with me, Lady Sweetie Belle.”

Sweetie Belle bowed to the others. “It was a pleasure meeting you. I look forward to our lessons.” She then turned, following Deep Note into the school.

Sweetie slowly slid the bow across the strings, letting the last of the notes drag a prolonged deep sound before ending. She lowered her bow, opening her eyes to look at her new tutor.

Deep Note’s eyes revealed very little other than contempt. “That was barely acceptable,” he stated, standing up and walking slowly around Sweetie Belle. “While you have more… ability, than the regular beginner, you hardly deserve as much praise as her Majesty gave you. Make no mistake, I will not tolerate mediocrity in my students!”

Sweetie narrowed her eyes.

“You yank your bow leg like a common cow plows the field. With no grace or understanding of the gentleness required to get the notes you need. If you can’t keep it straight don’t pretend to call yourself a cellist! And what happened with your intonation? A few seconds in and you changed it! This is not modern ‘music’! You were supposed to be playing a classic! And your left hoof! Your shifts almost felt like an attempt to be cute. Either do them right or quit while you’re ahead!”

He stood on his own hind legs, looking down into Sweetie’s eyes. “Your shoulders are too stiff for the vibrato. I do not know who taught you, but he or she did not do a good job!” He fell back onto all fours and kept walking around her. “Your balance… is acceptable. Perhaps the only acceptable part of your performance, and the fact that you are still standing on your hind legs gives me a vague hope that you might, just might, have what it takes in you.”

Sweetie felt anger swelling inside of her, but remained calm, dropping down to all fours as well. “Thank you for your evaluation.”

Deep Note huffed. “There’s nothing to thank me for, girl. You made a fool of yourself, pretending to be a cellist and performing such a pathetic interpretation of The Elements.” He paused to serve himself a glass of whiskey, sipping it before looking at her again. “At least you come from good stock, I can tell. Were you a commoner I would tell you to give up already, but nobles have better blood. Better instinct. You might be too old to achieve true mastery if you were one of them.” He took another sip. “Thankfully, you’re not.”

Sweetie frowned. “I fail to see how whether I was born noble or not has anything to do with—”

“Pah!” Deep Note interrupted, seating down in a large, worn sofa. “You fail to see! Of course you fail to see! That is why you’re still a beginner! Your Noble Blood opens you to arts and understanding that is beyond that of commoners. Their blood is diluted, unfit to achieve perfection.”

Sweetie was about to speak up when he glanced her way. “You’re too young to understand these matters, Lady Sweetie. But not to practice. On your hind legs. Once more, and this time watch the vibrato.”

Sweetie sighed, and assumed her starting position. ‘I can put up with him being a jerk to me, but if he keeps this xenophobic nonsense going…’

Balance was the key in her violin lessons. Without the familiar bulk and reassuring weight of her preferred instrument, standing proved more of a challenge, let alone playing. Even still, Sweetie could stand without the need to lean, though her old cello habits made her totter to the left every so often. Not only that, but the daintiness of the violin was something she was unaccustomed to. The delicate instrument wobbled precariously in her hooves and, after a momentary imbalance through her off, the bow scraped along the wrong strings noisily.

“Oh dear,” the old mare said with all the tenderness of a grandmother watching her newborn granddaughter. It was a nice enough change from Deep Note’s derision, but Sweetie couldn’t help but feel a little patronized by Decibella’s tone and had to wonder which one was worse. “I think you’ve grown a bit too reliant on the cello acting as a support.”

She sipped her tea. It was something of a tick for her. Every time she finished speaking, she would take a sip. The lesson had gone on long enough that the pot should have been finished by now, but somehow it seemed inexhaustible. Sweetie imagined overturning the china and filling the room with a flood of hot brown leaf-juice. The old mare had eased herself into a plumply cushioned armchair that looked as old as she did (so centuries, perhaps) and dragged a small coffee table next to it. Her telekinetic grasp was surprisingly strong for a mare as ancient as her.

Sweetie glared at her. “I don’t need my cello for support. I can balance just fine, it's just… I feel like I’m going to break this thing.” She glanced at the violin. “It’s like the little sister of my cello, still needing to grow, and if I touch it, it will break.”

Decibella nodded absent-mindedly. “Well, you are doing very well in any case. Most ponies find it harder to move from the cello to the violin than the other way around. I say you’ve earned yourself a tea break.” The mare gave Sweety a surprisingly toothy smile as she sipped.

Sweetie sighed, dropping to all fours and carefully levitating the violin onto its resting spot. “It’s just strange… I know I shouldn’t worry about breaking it, but it’s so small… and the sound so much higher, it’s going to take some time.” She walked up to the mare and sat across from her, taking a sip of her own tea. For a moment she lost herself, looking into the cup. “You know, I used to drink tea like this with my first mentor.”

“It’s always good to have a drink when you’re learning. Especially something like tea. Relaxes your muscles and soothes the soul. Good for conversations, tea.” Another sip. “Was your mentor somepony I have heard of?”

Sweetie shook her head, choosing to simply sip her own.

“Ah, well in any case I’d love to meet her. What’s her name?”

Sweetie laughed weakly, “I’m sure she would have liked to. But she’s long gone. Not much chance for that.”

“Oh, that’s a shame. Was she a good teacher?” Decibella asked.

“She was,” Sweetie replied, looking away. “If you don’t mind, I’d… rather not bring those memories back.”

The old mare nodded and drained the rest of her tea. “In that case, it’s best we get back to practicing. Keep your mind busy, eh?”

Sweetie chuckled, standing up to resume practicing. “As you say, Miss Decibella.”

Sweetie hovered outside the door leading to Fleur de Lis’ offices, shuffling uneasily. ‘What if she doesn’t like me?’ She raised a hoof to knock, but hesitated again. ‘Is she really going to be that different? What if I’m not beautiful enough while singing? Is she going to be disappointed?’

She looked at the door. After a few seconds, it was clear it wasn’t going to open by itself, and so, Sweetie sighed. “Come on Sweetie, you only knew her for about a year. And every day you had to introduce yourself to her. You can do this.”

Taking a deep breath, she knocked on the door.

“Come in!” a voice called, sing-song and surprisingly chipper.

Sweetie opened the door and walked in slowly. “Um, it’s me, Sweetie Belle. Sorry I’m a bit late… I was just nervous.

The noblemare was laboring over a sheet of music, her quill dancing along as she hummed to herself. “How strange.” She set her quill in its inkpot and looked up with her pale violet eyes. “You have met the holy Empress of Equestria and I of all ponies make you nervous?” Fleur smiled. “I don’t know whether to be flattered or concerned.”

“W-well, first impressions, you know?” Sweetie stammered. “I really appreciate all of you taking time to teach me, after all.”

The mare rounded the desk, now standing in front of Sweetie. “Oh, think nothing of it. This is simply a service for Her Majesty.” The smile grew crafty on her lips. “Not to mention the money we are being paid to teach you is appreciation enough.”

Sweetie nodded. “Well, there’s that too.” She looked up at Fleur expectantly.

“Ah, but where are my manners. We have not made proper introductions. As Lady Clavel has said, I am Fleur-de-Lis of House Ambroisie.” She bobbed in a small, elegant curtsey. “It is an honor to meet you, Lady Sweetie Belle.”

Sweetie curtsied in return. “A pleasure to meet you, Lady Fleur.”

A short silence passed with the noblemare waiting patiently, until she coughed politely. “I hate to be the one to remind a young mare of her manners, but I believe one’s house is declared in the introductions. Lady Clavel and the Empress made no mention of yours during their discussion.”

Sweetie blinked. “Oh. Well, that would be because I don’t have a House, officially speaking. I’m under the care of the crown.”

“Oh! Oh, I am terribly sorry. I should not have assumed.” The unicorn mare blushed. “I thought, since… nevermind.”

Sweetie chuckled. “Don’t worry, Lady Fleur, a lot of ponies assume that, given the company I’ve been blessed with.”

Fleur nodded, smiling in relief, then cringed. “I suppose your lesson with Lord Deep Note was more than a little uncomfortable.”

Sweetie made a face. “He’s… special. But apparently I have what it takes due to my noble blood.”

“Not all those who have noble blood are aristocrats, and not all aristocrats have noble blood,” Fleur said, tittering. “There are many ponies who have illustrious ancestors and continue a tradition of goodness in their family despite not being titled nobility. Sadly, there are many nobility who abuse their positions.”

“I understand…” Sweetie said. “Sometimes it’s all they have to cling to. I just feel bad for them.”

“Not everyone can be born with talents as wonderful as music.” She pointed to her student’s cutie mark. “I can see yours has something to do with the musical arts. Do your strengths lie in instruments or vocals?”

“I’ve trained in both.” Sweetie looked back at her cutie mark, hiding a cringe at the fractured pieces of Twilight’s own. “But I’m more proficient in instrumental music.”

“Then it is very good that you have come to me.” Fleur struck a pose, her head held high and her smile proud. “I am one of the best singers in Equestria, and I will make it my mission to make you as good or better than me.”

Sweetie grinned. “And I look forward to that!”

True to her word, the Empress came to pick Sweetie Belle up at four. It was hard to believe so many hours had gone by. She had never practiced music for so long in her life. The echoes of vocals and strings were still ringing in her ears even as the chariot began its ascent to return her to the palace.

“How was your first night of lessons, Sweetie Belle?” the Empress asked her charge, her voice carrying surprisingly well over the wind. Sweetie assumed it to be a spell placed on the chariot.

“Intense,” Sweetie said, after a moment of thought for the correct way of putting it. “All of my teachers have completely different teaching styles. The violin took some adjusting, although I’m sure I’ll get better with time. Fleur was very nice, and I enjoyed my singing lessons with her. Lord Deep Note was… very demanding. But I think I’ll manage.”

“Good. It will be healthy for you to do something both educational and enjoyable while Twilight is at the Academy. It will not do for you to become a layabout, spending your days loitering around the palace.”

“Isn’t that what most nobles do?”

Nightmare Moon laughed. It sounded like coffee to Sweetie’s ears; rich, smooth and dark, yet hearty. “Some do. Others will dedicate themselves to running their lands or pursuing personal projects. Some have professions, mostly as bankers or moguls.”

“I guess it’s good that some of them have better and more productive ways of passing time,” Sweetie mused.

“Idlers are seen as improper by their peers. There is a certain set of duties and responsibilities nobles are expected to perform, and certain ways they are suspected to behave.” The Empress frowned and scoffed. “The Duke has tried to drill that kind of thinking into his son, but Blueblood seems to have developed a taste for hedonism lately.”

“Aw, Blueblood can’t be that bad. I’m sure he’ll get better,” Sweetie said, looking up at Nightmare Moon. “Maybe he just needs a hobby?”

The alicorn gave Sweetie a smirk. “He has a hobby. It has not improved him. If you met him, then you would understand. Admittedly, he is better than he was when he was younger. He was such a brat several years ago.” 

Sweetie pondered that for a moment. “Maybe not a hobby… but a job? Maybe having some real responsibility on his hooves will help. Does anypony know what his special talent is?”

Nightmare Moon knitted her brow. “You seem awfully intent on him improving.” Her smirk grew. “Do not tell me you are one of those fillies who are enraptured by the idea of a perfect prince charming?”

Sweetie started giggling. “Not at all!” She smiled. “I just feel like he hasn’t realized his potential… a lot of ponies have it, and never do. And Lyra’s my friend, of sorts… I think she’d also be happier if Blueblood was a bit better, and that would make her have an easier time to be friends with Twilight, and that will benefit all of us.”

“I hope so. He does have his father’s mind, though it is tempered by so many undesirable traits.” Nightmare hummed thoughtfully. “I assume you are not biased against the nobility then?”

Sweetie gave the question some thought and shook her head. “No… everypony has their own place, and Nobles do as well. Sometimes they don’t live up to being leaders, or sometimes they think themselves above those that make them what they are, but… a true Noble is a leader that understands what their duty is to their estate, and sees that what they are is but part of a greater thing.” She blushed a bit. “I’m sorry if I’m talking too much... maybe it’s idolized… I just think there’s usually a reason for ponies to be where they are, even if I don’t see it immediately.”

“Sometimes I elevate ponies of merit to the nobility, as a kind of reward, and to make it so Equestria is run by ponies who deserve to run it.” The Empress showed Sweetie a toothy grin. “Sometimes I give ponies titles when I am feeling particularly whimsical.”

Sweetie blinked. “Wait, so you randomly give them a title to see what they do with them?”

The Empress shrugged. “Yes, but they just show it off, usually. If there are lands attached to it they have to oversee them. It is a very effective way of getting rid of troublemakers, actually.”

“I see,” Sweetie nodded. “Well, I for one have no idea what I would do if that happened to me. Especially if I suddenly had lands and ponies to tend to. It would be horrible. What if I didn’t live up to it? They could suffer a lot.”

“Bureaucrats do most of the work, especially if I give them power over that noble. Still, it rarely happens that I grant a pony such a title, let alone grant them a title with land and subjects.”

“Well, you are the Empress. If anypony knows what they’re doing it’s you,” Sweetie said with a little shrug of her shoulders. “But it must be a huge burden anyway.”

“Sometimes.” She grinned. “It is very rewarding, however.”

The rest of the trip was spent in silence, until, with little fanfare, the chariot touched down in the palace grounds. Sweetie followed Nightmare Moon inside after thanking the guards that pulled it.

“Will Twilight be back soon?” Sweetie asked.

With a glance at the great clock that dominated the wall of the entrance hall, Nightmare Moon said, “In a couple of hours. What will you do until then? Are you hungry?”

Sweetie nodded. “A little,” she confessed. “I haven’t had anything to eat since lunch. But shouldn’t we wait for Twilight?”

“I was about to suggest merely that you can acquire a snack from the kitchens.” The Empress sniffed. “Now, Sweetie Belle, I have some pressing matters to attend to. I trust you can make your way to the Royal Apartments from here by yourself... or wherever else it is you would like to go.”

Sweetie bowed politely. “Of course, thank you so much for everything.”

A brisk nod was followed by a superfluous about-turn and the Empress strode away. Sweetie was left to wonder how to fill her time until Twilight returned. The library held more than enough to wet her thirst for information about this world, though she found herself entertaining the prospect of seeing who she could bump into around the palace.

Ambling away from the library, she allowed herself to contemplate her current situation, the ponies she had met and why she was there. While the library itself was a perfect place to be engulfed by silence, she needed a bit more… somewhere quiet, yes, but where she could feel the wind, and smell the earth.

She walked slowly, returning any formal greetings with one of her own as she made her way to the gardens. Soon, she found the bench she had been sitting on the day before, and decided to sit and think.

‘I already feel like I belong here,’ she wondered, silently watching the clouds above and the rustling leaves. ‘Is this how it’s going to be now? Feeling a part of something and then being taken away? Why is this whole thing so… weird? What am I supposed to do? Wait?’

Sweetie pouted before her eyes drifted down to the path before her. Yesterday, she had almost killed a pony right here.

She shook her head, trying to rid herself of the idea. “Maybe,” she spoke up, jumping to her hooves. “Maybe I should go find Cirrus.”

She made her way to the garden entrance, where she was quickly able to find a guard. She carefully approached him. “Excuse me sir, would you be so kind to point me towards the Military Academy?”

The guard did not shift his bland expression as he said, “It’s just across the plaza, to the right of Main Street. The big building with all those gothic features and that statue of the three soldiers outside. Can’t miss it.”

Sweetie smiled. “Thank you, sir!” She turned and set out to find out if Cirrus was around. “I wonder what sort of practice they have?” She followed the guard’s instructions, leaving the Palace and making her way across the plaza until she could see the Military Academy in all its glory.

It struck her as an absurdly pointy building. A symmetrical rectangle with fat towers in the corners, it was absolutely covered in spiky gothic parapets. It looked to be hollow in the interior, with a large, menacingly gothic spire rising high from the middle like a spear thrust into the sky. The gates were guarded by a couple of cadets in uniform, looking bored as only young stallions banished to tedium could. They let her through without much of a fuss after she flashed the imperial seal at them, their baffled looks thoroughly entertaining. Sweetie felt a small thrill as she realized just how powerful a key this little medallion was.

She passed the statue the guard had talked about – an impressive statue of three stallions from each tribe clad in armor and bristling with magnificence – and made her way into the academy. The secretary at the front desk was only too happy to point her out to somepony who would know where Cirrus was and, after waving the imperial seal around like a torch a few more times, she made her way to the exercise yard.

Sure, she could've snuck in, but she was reluctant to show her skills in any way after her talk with the Inquisitor. She was in the public eye, which meant that her actions would reflect on Nightmare Moon and Twilight. Being predictable would oddly enough keep others on their toes around her.

Her theory about there being a courtyard proved correct. The academy was a hollow rectangle with a cluster of buildings, greens and ranges, with the towering spire in the dead center. It only took a little bit of searching to find Cirrus in the middle of a sparring match, in a ring of dirt surrounded by a crowd of cadets and an instructor.

The stallion was sweating in his armor, which was rather dusty, and circled his opponent, another pegasus also covered in the dust of their little fighting pit. The other pegasus was breathing heavily and stumbling about, though Sweetie had no idea how long they had been fighting for. Cirrus’s face was set with a tight grin that held more than a hint of cockiness.

“Stop playing with him, Cirrus!” The instructor barked. “Finish Wind Gait off and give the poor idiot a rest.”

Wind Gait was too tired and too focussed on his opponent to look offended at the comment. Cirrus’s grin suddenly turned cruel and he darted forward. Wind tensed and shifted to defend against a blow that never came. Cirrus twisted his body and slid around the pegasus, quickly and easily, with little momentum lost. He struck at his back legs, making Wind Gait crash to the ground. The unfortunate cadet attempted to roll out of the way, but was denied escape by a harsh tug of his tail by Cirrus. He was dragged so his vital neck was within the reach of the white-maned stallion’s heavily-booted hooves, hooves that moved too fast for Wind. In a blur, Cirrus had his boot on his foe’s neck, who made a noise that sounded like a gasp of surprised and a gurgle.

“Cirrus wins,” the instructor declared. Cirrus smirked and let his foot up off Wind Gait’s neck, who coughed and rubbed his throat, glowering darkly at Cirrus. The instructor stepped into the ring and eyed his students ruefully. “That makes eight. Eight in a row in under an hour. I’ve given you lot ample opportunity beat Cirrus over the months, and even wear him down with sessions like this. No wonder he’s a Ser already and you lot aren’t.” He spat. “I speak to the other instructors proudly of my boys, you lot, but now I see my words were just hot wind.” The cadets knew enough to look appropriately ashamed, though some through envious glares Cirrus’s way. The instructor tutted and flicked his head. “Go hit the showers. You all stink of sweat and failure.”

The group of cadets melted away in mutterings and grumbles, loosening or removing their armor as they went. When Cirrus turned, he met Sweetie’s eyes and his smirk turned to a gape of surprise. “Oh, Lady Sweetie, I had no idea you were here. How long have you been standing there?”

Sweetie shrugged. “Long enough to watch the end of your match. Was it really necessary to be so smug about it when he was down?”

The grin returned. “I like it when I win, and how can I not be smug when I am the best in the class?”

Sweetie giggled. “Well, don’t rub it in too much. Those ponies will have your back if you ever need them, right? Better that they have it in a positive way.”

“We’re training to be officers. We will be mustered out to different units. The stallions who will have my back aren’t even here.” He wiped the beads of sweat from his forehead and sauntered over to Sweetie Belle, his eyes becoming gentler. “How are you anyway? Did anything happen with North Star?”

Sweetie frowned. “I got her off my back, and she should not affect you either if she knows what’s good for her.”

The pegasus laughed. “You are one devilishly frightening mare if that’s the case.”

Sweetie smiled. “Only when it matters.” Her smile slipped a bit. “I… also wanted to apologize for requesting you to leave me with her. I would have preferred your company.”

“I understand.” He rubbed his damp mane. “I can get a little… stubborn sometimes, especially when it comes to promises I have made.”

“You kept your promise,” Sweetie replied, looking him in the eye. “But I also had to deal with her politics myself. As it is, what’s done is done, but I do appreciate what you did, my knight.”

He grinned again and took hold of her hoof, raising it to his lips. “I’d do it again in a heartbeat, my lady.”

Sweetie couldn’t help but smile. “And I am grateful. But you should probably take a shower, Cirrus, unless you’re expecting another fight? I could teach you a thing or two.” She winked at him.

He shook his head. “The only things you could teach me would be new ways to fight against unicorns. The tactics of pegasi and unicorns are very different from each other.”

Sweetie grinned. “I can imagine. But maybe I could learn how to fight pegasi.”

“You don’t need to learn that, my lady. Not when you have me as a champion.” He raised his head high and proud, flashing her a winning grin. His magnificence was only slightly mired by his sweaty, grubby state.

“Fair enough, my champion.” Sweetie giggled. “Instead of a duel, which I promise you, we will have, how about we enjoy each other’s company?” She smiled sweetly. “You could show me your Academy.”

“Of course. If you give me a minute to go and wash, I’ll meet you out here in a little while.” He dipped his head in a courtly little bow and flew away.

It took little over ten minutes for Cirrus to return, his armor replaced by a smart uniform and his fur washed of all sweat and dirt. He strode manfully towards her, a brilliant smile on his lips and vigor in his step. 

For a moment, Sweetie forgot all about her journeys. Right there, she could only look at the approaching stallion and smile while her stomach felt like there were butterflies flapping around inside. It was just her and him.

'Was it like this with Swiftwing too?' she thought to herself, thoughts going back to dark places. 'Did my heart flutter when I saw her? Was her smile just as contagious?'

He stopped with a foot of space between them, looking down at her with gleaming emerald eyes. “Perhaps I can interest you in a pleasant walk around the gardens instead of just a tour of the Academy?” he asked. “We never got to enjoy our time together there yesterday.”

Sweetie found herself having a hard time looking away from his smile, but managed to drag her eyes up to meet his. “That would be lovely.”

Sweetie was still standing in a metaphorical cloud by the time she made it back to the Imperial Palace, no matter how she tried, her smile would not fade and she had noticed she had a spring to her step. “I haven’t skipped in years,” she muttered, trying to rein herself in. “I hope Twilight didn’t see that…”

Then again, why shouldn’t she skip? She felt as light of heart as when she was a foal back in Ponyville, before even her apprenticeship to Twilight began. Those had been carefree days and somehow Cirrus offered her a taste of that lackadaisical time, like a promise of things to come. 

As she conquered the final steps to the entrance to the palace and the guards opened the doors for her, Sweetie gulped when the first thing she saw was the less-than-amused faced of Twilight Sparkle, who was definitely not happy.

“Um… hi, Twilight? How was school?”

“Oh, it was good.” Her voice was clipped to an edge. “We had some interesting lessons scheduled. Like the importance of timing for releasing spells and how careful planning and timetabling was as crucial to the military success of the Roaman Empire as discipline and tactical reform.”

Sweetie’s face brightened. “Oh! That sounds interesting! I once read a book about military tactics that emphasized the importance of timing and synchronization of several units for the most optimal result!”

“I was being sarcastic, Sweetie! We had a very clear point in the day we would meet again! Do you know how this affects my schedule for the rest of the night, no... week!” The filly stamped and snorted angrily. “What took you so long?!”

Sweetie’s smile fell. “Oh! I’m so sorry, Twilight! I came here earlier and you were going to arrive a few hours after I did, so your mother suggested I spend my time doing something and…” She trailed off, looking down at her hooves. “I, um… wentandsawCirrus,” she finished in a whispered rush.

Twilight’s rage was dowsed and her ears perked. “What was that?” A ghost of a grin played at her lips.

Sweetie felt her cheeks burn. I wonder how my face actually looks right now? She thought to herself, before she cleared her throat and licked her lips, trying to figure a way to weasel out of this one. “I-I ran into him at the Academy?” She gave Twilight a shaky smile. “Y-you know, the one where he-I mean, uh… military! Yes. Tactics a-and things. To do. With pegasi. And… timing?”

Her friend burst into laughter. “Oh, you should see your face! Maybe I should call you Sweetieberry!” Her laughter devolved into snorts. “Get it? Like a strawberry!”

Sweetie pouted. “Oh, come on! I can’t possibly get that red! My fur would cover it!”

Twilight steadied herself, breathing slowly in and out to halt the guffaws. “Oh, you definitely are. You should see me when I blush. Mom tells me my cheeks go a sort of cherry red.”

“Hmp,” Sweetie frowned. “Maybe we should find you a coltfriend.” She paused, eyes wide. “I just said that, didn’t I?”

“So he is your coltfriend! Did he kiss you in the gardens?”

“N-no!” Sweetie stammered. “We are not a couple!” She glanced at the guards, who seemed to be struggling to keep a straight face. “Look,” she hissed. “Can we talk about this somewhere more private?”

“Sure.” Twilight looked to the sky. “The Bright Moon’s going down so it’s going to get pretty chilly soon anyway.”

When in Twilight’s bedroom, the princess-scholar insisted on pillaging the kitchens for ice-cream and sodas, wrapping themselves in blankets and dressing-gowns and locking the door with a sound-proofing field to prevent distractions. She claimed this was the proper procedure for “girl talk” as she had read it in several books.

“They usually had wine instead of sodas but we’re not old enough to drink,” she said as she finished chilling her bottle with a quick spell. The room was toasty now compared to the cold autumn evening outside, and the cool drinks and ice-cream were perfect compliments.

Sweetie shook her head, following Twilight’s lead and chilling down her own soda with an elemental ice spell. “Are the gowns really necessary?” she finally asked in a faint attempt to detract the conversation from where it would inevitably lead.

“Well, we should have really had scented baths first, but that’d take too long.”

Sweetie blinked. A chance! “Well, I’m not going anywhere! Hehe, why don’t we take long, relaxing, sleep-inducing baths?”

Twilight narrowed her eyes at that suggestion. “I don’t know, I don’t want to eat into too much of the evening.” Her eyes widened. “Oh, how about we talk about it in the bath! There are some Neighponese novels where ‘girl talk’ happens in bath-houses. That way we can do what you want and still talk about…” she waggled her eyebrows,“you and Cirrus.”

Sweetie buried her face under her hooves. “Oh my Ce—Nightmare,” she cleared her throat again. “Uh, look Twilight, I really don’t know what you think happened, but I guarantee it's not as saucy as you think! It was barely a peck!” Sweetie groaned when she realized she had spoken without thinking again. “On the cheek!”

“Eeee! Oh wow, I’m not usually a pony for stuff like this but that is incredible! I can’t believe you have a coltfriend. It’s only been a few days since you arrived!”

Sweetie sighed and looked away. “He isn’t. I… I don’t know if he really wants me to be his marefriend. I just… he’s nice, but he doesn't know what or who I really am.” She took a deep breath.

“Well, he’s interested in you at least,” Twilight said, hoping to inject some optimism into her friend. Then she frowned and muttered, “Then again, if anything Shining Armor has told me is true…”

“What has Shining Armor told you?” Sweetie asked, raising her eyebrow. “They’re friends, right? He should know him pretty well.”

“Nothing! It’s nothing!”

“You know something, don’t you?” Sweetie leaned forward, eyes looking straight into Twilight’s. “Can’t you tell me? Pleeease? How bad could it be?”

The princess cringed as she spoke, “I had hoped you forgot, but a while ago when I said Shining Armor said he was a big ladies’ stallion, well that was a little bit of an understatement.”

“W-what do you mean?”

“Cirrus… he’s, uh, he’s one of those colts who likes to have lots of fillyfriends but isn’t really into commitment. At least that’s what Shining Armor told me,” she said hurriedly. “He says he likes the challenge, whatever that means.”

Sweetie felt her eyes fill up. “Y-you mean he’s lying? But he’s my knight!”

Twilight waved her hands rapidly. “No no! That’s just what I heard! He made a chivalric oath to you and he’s done all these things so you’re probably the exception!”

Sweetie looked away. “Let’s talk about something else.”

Twilight hung her head. “O-okay.” She peeked up. “So... how are you enjoying Canterlot?”

Sweetie grimaced for a moment, before forcing a smile. “Well, I went to the College of Music today, and met my instructors.” She thought for a moment before continuing, “It was interesting, although I think at least one of them is a classist xenophobe jerk, the other would rather drink tea, and Fleur is kinda different from what I knew of her.”

“Who is this Fleur mare?”

“She’s my singing teacher here,” Sweetie explained, “But in one of my other adventures, she was my dueling instructor.” She chuckled, sitting back and smiling fondly at the memories. “She’s as beautiful as she’s always been in any world… and she’s just as kind as her ‘other’ self. But where my previous Fleur sought to inspire the world with visual beauty, this one inspires with her voice.”

“Wow, so there can be all kinds of differences between different worlds, huh? Even subtle ones.”

That observation was all it took for the two fillies to launch themselves into a discussion about the myriad worlds and their myriad inhabitants. They pondered with a great deal of philosophy and science. For Sweetie, it was almost like talking to one of her crusader friends... except with Twilight being the same age. Another subtle difference between worlds, she supposed, but she resolved to grasp her experience with this Twilight graciously. And she did, well until the weights of sleep dragged her into her dreams.