//------------------------------// // Chapter One // Story: Maternal Instinct // by Magic Man //------------------------------// Maternal Instinct Chapter One One stormy winter’s night, Queen Chrysalis was rudely awoken from uneasy dreams to the sound of a loud crash. She was up from her desk and on all fours in an instant, the sounds of an old stallion's yells and cannon fire still ringing loud in her ears. Her head twisted in several directions in a determined search of some unseen threat. For one horrifying moment, she might have sworn the cannon fire was still happening and her large, gnarled horn instinctively came aglow. It was the enemy! The city was under attack! It took a moment for her still blurred mind to remember that that was nonsense, the mental ravings of a lethargic, unfocused mare still caught up in her fleeting dreams. She quickly managed to put together that the sound that awoke her was nothing but a simple roar of thunder coming from the storm raging on outside. Trotting steadily over to a small window, she peered out at the heavy rain pounding against the pane. It was storming so hard she could not see ten feet before her, except when the next flash of lightning illuminated the outside world for a split second so she could see the untouched, impregnable walls of the citadel in which her palace was safely nestled like an egg in its mothers nest. The Queen of the Changeling’s shoulders slumped and she heaved a sigh of relief, rubbing her pulsating forehead with her hole-ridden hoof. There was no invasion happening and the battlefield, she was certain, was years ago. All was safe. Recomposing herself in the calm, dignified manner expected from her in her regal status, she brushed the sleet from her enormous, harlequin eyes and surveyed her surroundings. She was standing in her official royal chamber, her quiet sanctuary tucked safely up in one of the towers of her family’s palace. Her chamber was startlingly plain when compared to the rest of the glamorous palace. It was spacious with jade walls and richly decorated carpets, with a large black wooden desk, stationary and other essentials in one corner and a full sized bed in the other. Chrysalis never prided herself on being a flashy mare and even so, what use would there be in making it another shrine to vanity when she would be one of only a hoofful of changelings to see it? The current situation was much more practical for her to do her nightly work. ‘Idiot... just a bad dream,’ she reprimanded herself for her momentary foolishness, sitting back down at her desk and rubbing her temples. She gathered she must have dozed off some time ago in the middle of work; her reading glasses and the thick mountains of paperwork she was working on remained on her desk, blocking out every inch of varnished wood, with a few more stacks pouring out onto the floor surrounding the stool. Chrysalis rested her knee on the desk edge and placed her cheek in her hoof, levitating a clock from the stacks of documents and looking at the time. Ten past seven. It was not as late as she feared; she must have only been asleep for an hour at most. She could make up the time if she got back to work immediately and there were no further interruptions. Her horn gently lit up again and three long ink brushes, of which each sat on top of a different stack- one for executions, the second for requisition orders and the third for edicts - lifted up, dipped themselves into the nearby inkpot and, after donning her reading glasses and mentally retracing her steps, began writing where she left off. This was the way her father always taught her to work. As she monotonously proceeded to fill out three separate forms at once, Chrysalis could not help but be reminded of the times she spent hunched over a desk doing her assignments as a schoolfilly. She may not have enjoyed it back then, but in hindsight, she would now prefer writing an essay that stretched her mind as opposed to simply copying her name for the two millionth time. Halfway through spelling ‘Chrysalis’ on one execution order, she discovered a white porcelain teacup sitting behind the stack on top a candle powered tea warmer. She looked it over and found it half full. She licked her lips and with a flick of her horn, brought the cup up to her lips to take a sip. The Queen suddenly arched her back as a surge of sharp pain shot up her spinal cord and forced a hiss through her teeth. She clasped her hooves over her lower back, the lack of focus causing the brushes to scrape against the paper and the cup to drop, its contents spilling over her bare lap. “Buck!” she opened her mouth and let out an unnaturally high shriek as her buzzing wings lifted her up in the air, holding onto her back and crossing her scolding hind legs. Her back had been giving her nothing but grief for days now. The pain came and went at will, naturally choosing to strike at the most inconvenient times. As it slowly eased away into a dull ache, she used her magic to sooth and clean up her burning legs, all while writhing in midair like a worm on a fishing hook. ‘I can’t go on like this,’ she thought miserably, still massaging her lower back fervently. ‘I’ve got to go down to the spa, tomorrow and get this treated.’ When she hovered down to her stool to resume work, she saw that she had badly marred the documents she was in the middle of filling out with ink. They were now ruined. Growling, she smacked the stacks in frustration, sending the top half fluttering to the floor in a mess. A tiny yellow sticky note stuck out from the pile of white papers. Chrysalis, stewing in her own ire, noticed the small oddity and plucked it up, if only out of a glimmer of curiosity. She read it: REMINDER: Pupa’s bedtime. Eight. Chrysalis slapped herself. She had forgotten all about it! So much for writing it down being useful. Forgetting about the paperwork for a moment, she pondered what to do. She promised Pupa she would come tonight. It would not take that long, and it was only three minutes past eight; she could make it if she made haste. Her attention then drew back to the paperwork surrounding her and she groaned. She had already lost too much time sleeping away, and this paperwork had to be done tonight for her meetings tomorrow. There was no more time she could waste going on a pointless errand. ‘I’ll make it up to her later.’ Brushing the note carelessly aside, she levitated the papers from the floor and began sorting them into their correct stack. When she finished sorting them out, she decided to just work around the ink blotches-- A pang of regret crawled across Chrysalis’ features. She paused, staring off into space, but ultimately shrugged it off and resumed her work. The many twisting, narrow corridors that comprised much of the interior of centuries’ old palace formed a harrowing labyrinth, one of the sort in which an inexperienced servant could find herself lost for days. Most of them were advised not to go wandering about because of this, particularly at night time, when the pitch darkness and deathly silence heightened a changeling’s senses and paranoia. Cerci was not one to be dissuaded from her duties by such ridiculous notions. The nanny mare hovered down the corridor at a steady pace, her charge a young filly, whom she was carrying in her forelegs wriggling restlessly about in her hold, the low drone of her buzzing wings rolling up and down the walls. Her horn tip was aglow, basking herself and the filly in a warm light that cleared their path. The filly whimpered, her muzzle buried deep into the grown mare’s neck. She was obviously scared by the darkness surrounding them both, even within their protective light. “Shhh, it’s alright,” Cerci bounced her up and down, patting her on the back. “We’re almost there. Shhh.” Hearing her nanny’s gentle, motherly voice calmed the filly down a great deal. She continued to cling to her fur, curling up into a ball and weighing her down on one side. Cerci cringed, but bared it through and kept them both in the air. Turning a corner, they came to the bottom of a set of stairs. Cerci bit of her lip and hauled her charge up the spiralling passageway, until they reached the small door at the top. Cerci steadied the filly and opened the door with her teeth, allowing them to enter. As they entered the room, the nanny cast a spell that turned on the lights and both changelings immediately felt their spirits lifted. The whole room was a lot bigger than necessary for such a tiny changeling, though it was not particularly glamorous as the rest of the palace; it was built with jade walls and a mint plush carpet, small pyramids of stuffed bug toys decorating one corner, and the essential ornate furniture in the other. It near enough created the appearance of a nursery. “It’s time to sleep, Princess. Come now.” A loud yawn escaped the filly Princess’ mouth as Cerci flew over to a four-poster bed, grand enough to accommodate at least five. She set her down on the mattress and was about to tuck her in when the filly started whining again, pointing a heavy, tired hoof at a toy pyramid. Cerci understood. “Oh, do you want one of your bugs? Do you want Lady?” she asked, cupping her face and pressing her cheeks. The Princess nodded excitedly, smiling through her squishing hold. “Okay, big girl, you just tuck yourself in and I’ll go fetch Lady.” The Princess did not do such a great job of it as the nanny walked off down the room; she easily pulled away the neatly placed blankets, but struggled greatly to pull them back up. She only possessed so much strength. Cerci returned moments later, levitating by her side a large plush ladybug toy. She could not help but laugh as she tucked the child in herself, straightening the blankets and fluffing the pillows, making extra sure that she was comfortable. “Is this who you’re looking for?” she cooed, holding the ladybug plush above her face and dangling it like a toy mouse over a cat. The Princess’ eyes went as wide as dinner plates, her lips tugging into a grin and she pulled her legs out to reach for it. “Here comes Lady!” Cerci did her best impression of Lady flying into and eating up the filly’s face. “Nom nom nom!” Laughing out loud, the Princess took her toy in a hug so tight it would break its non-existent bones and rolled around in bed with it. Cerci climbed onto bed with her, lying quietly by her side for a while, saying nothing as she stroked her soft, cerulean mane with the tip of her hoof. Cerci did not look like the stereotypical nanny with a greyed mane and stocky build, but rather the opposite: she was a young, pretty and slender changeling mare, just old enough to have larvae of her own, with her shiny lavender mane done up into a thick, large ponytail. She wore a plain, formal kimono, befitting her status as a servant. The Princess, however, was a different story. She was certainly well groomed and fed and dressed in a beautiful black silk floral night robe, but still a scrawny looking filly with a sickly, pale complexion and suffering from many physical afflictions. Beneath that pretty robe, she was suffering from a curvature of the back; her wings were unnaturally small, even for her age; her hole-ridden limbs were disproportionate to each other, the left foreleg being badly withered; her eyes were glassy and sunken in, and a continuous trail of saliva ran from her bottom lip like a tap, which Cerci was always ready to dab up. Some changelings, if they had the gall or just plain stupidity, might have described her as ‘ugly’, but Cerci was not that kind of changeling. In her eyes, a few withered legs or a bit of drool mattered not; in her eyes, her little Princess was adorable from horn to tail. A few moments passed before she turned her head to the bedside table. On top of it were a glass of water and some jars containing multi-coloured tablets. She almost forgot about them. She levitated them over, too comfy to shift from her spot. “Open up,” she instructed the Princess calmly, levitating a tall glass of water and a bunch of multi-coloured tablets from the bedside table. The Princess opened her mouth, letting her large tongue roll out the corner and allowed the insectoid mare to feed her tablet after tablet, washing them all down with short gulps of water. “There, all gone.” Cerci screwed returned the glass and jars, got off the bed and was about to turn off the light when she asked, "Okay, are you comfortable, sweetheart? Do you need anything else first?” Almost like the flip of a switch, the Princess’ smile vanished and she began to whimper, making a pleading face to her nanny and squeezing the plush ladybug tighter. There was no doubt she was tired, but she still did not want to go to sleep just yet. The nanny immediately knew why. “Now, now, Princess,” she hushed, stroking the filly’s mane again. “I know you wanted Mama to come tonight, but she’s very busy. A Queen has many responsibilities to attend to. Perhaps another night. Besides, Lady will keep you company.” Seeing her downcast expression, Cerci knew this was not going to be enough to satisfy the Princess. An idea came to mind and she grinned. “Pupa... I’ve got a surprise for you.” Princess Pupa immediately ceased her whining and cocked her head as her nanny covered her face with her hooves. There was a small flash of green behind them. “Wherrre’s Cerci?” She removed her hooves. Her face had transformed into that of a pink pony with a shock of blue mane, or rather, what many ponies would call an offensive, saccharine caricature of their species. She answered in a screechy, syrupy sweet, “Heeere she is!” Pupa burst out laughing the moment she saw Cerci’s ridiculous new face. She looked just like the ponies she had seen in many of her picture books, with the wide, sparkling eyes, the bright colours and the ridiculously big grins showing off their sparkling buck teeth. Before she knew what hit her, Cerci covered her face again and revealed that of a white-headed Griffin, accompanied by the stereotypical monocle and moustache. “Hallo!” she shouted in a thick, male Griffin accent, twirling one end of her newly acquired tash. This went on for quite a while. Cerci would change her face to some over-the-top example of a different species or a changeling they knew, whilst Pupa would laugh herself silly until she was out of breath. It was a favourite game of theirs, especially for when the little one needed a little extra incentive for going to bed. The game reached its climax when Cerci yanked away the blanket to scoop Pupa up in her forelegs. She opened up her night robe and blew a long raspberry into the green plating over her belly. The filly threw her head back and squealed in delight. Cerci stopped for a moment to let her calm down, before blowing a second, harder raspberry, resulting in laughter-induced tears from her. By the end of it, Pupa was almost entirely worn out, only managing an odd giggle. “Okay, that’s enough of that,” Cerci said, resting the filly back into bed and giving her one last goodnight kiss. She took out a silk hoofkerchief and dabbed the drool around Pupa’s lips. “There, messy filly.” She then turned the light off and smooched Pupa’s forehead. “Sweet dreams, Pupa-chan.” After Cerci left the room, Pupa shut her eyes and allowed herself to relax into her soft bed. It had been a long day and now the Changeling Princess needed what her mother called ‘beauty sleep’. She did not understand why she needed it, though; Cerci and all her other nannies kept saying how she was “the most beautiful and precious filly in the whole kingdom”, so what was the point? In little time, Pupa felt her head go fuzzy and the weight in her body disappear. It made her feel so light it was as if she were floating on a cloud. Her fur stood up on end and she was overcome with a strong tingling sensation, making her break out into short giggling fits, despite her fatigue. This always happened to her at bed time after Cerci put her to bed and gave her her tablets. “Take these to the Ministers’ desks immediately,” Chrysalis ordered the two servants hovering in her chamber, both carrying paperwork up to their muzzles. “I need their signatures for them to be finalized.” “Yes, Your Majesty,” both chimed, bowing and turning to fly out of the open door. The Changeling Queen whistled and wiped her brow, looking back at her now indented mountains of paperwork. She was getting there. If she kept it up, she might actually be able to sleep well tonight. She flew over to close the door, but was stopped when a certain mare appeared in the doorway. Rather, only her head was visible; the rest of her body was hidden behind the wall. “Cerci? What are you doing here?” It was a simple question, her tone surprisingly conveying more of curiosity than irritation. “My apologies, Your Majesty,” Cerci bowed subserviently, her voice sheepish, even if she did not appear mad. She always feared being in the Queen’s presence, going back to when she was a teenager working in the palace laundry rooms with her mother and she would slide in to inspect the softness of the cotton blankets. “I did not mean to intrude.” A look of irritation returned to Chrysalis’ face in the form of her rolling her eyes. “I’m sure. Listen, is there anything I can help you with? As you’re already aware, I’m quite busy.” “I just wanted to let you know Pupa’s safely been put to sleep.” She stared at her with glazed, uninterested eyes. “Good. And... ?” Obviously, there was something else. Cerci gulped, feeling sweat forming on her coat. She began, selecting her words carefully, “Well... it’s just that, the Princess was rather... upset that you could not come tonight.” The Queen blinked, seemingly just remembering the promise she broke that night. The servant could have sworn she saw a glint of contrition clouded in bitterness in those intimidating green orbs. She did not reply, but instead turned and faced her back to her, head hung low. After a minute of brooding silence, she finally responded, speaking with a low, bitter voice, “I have more important duties that take up most of my time, Cerci. Pupa’s a grown filly now. If she feels she needs an endless supply of hugs and kisses, that’s what she’s got you for. I can’t fritter away valuable time on such trifles.” The remarks wormed their way under Cerci’s skin. She felt her shoulders tense up and her hooves push harder into the carpet. It was a trifle for the Queen to put aside a few minutes to see her own daughter?! It was not like she was asked to give up her whole evening or chop off her horn! Honestly, she did not know how angry she really should be, considering this was not the first time Her Majesty broke a promise to visit her child. There was the night two weeks ago where work overload was the same excuse. Her schedule was tight, the nanny understood this, but how many times could a mother and she herself lie to Pupa’s face? Why did she make promises she knew she could not keep? Cerci wanted to protest, to tell her she was being selfish and inconsiderate, but all that came out of her mouth was a feeble mumble. “She only wishes to see her mother...” Chrysalis looked back at the nanny out the corner of her eye and sighed, almost admitting some kind of defeat. “Alright, alright. If this is really something she won’t stop whining about, I’ll see what I can do tomorrow night. But I’m not promising anything.” “Thank you, Your Majesty,” Cerci replied, a hollow smile returning. She knew it was another straight-up lie, but what could she do? “Now get back to your quarters, servant.” Keeping herself as small as she could, Cerci scuttled across the floor and silently closed the door behind her, leaving the Changeling Queen all alone with nothing to give her company but her endless paperwork. It took her a while, as it always did, but Pupa soon giggled herself an inch from total slumber. The mattress and pillows were soft and cushy; her blankets freshly washed and covering her up as if she were a cosy bedbug, and Lady there to keep her company. But at that very moment, she heard her door slowly creak open, followed by the sound of hooves crunching against the carpet. Pupa forced her eyelids open to tiny slits, just enough for her to see, but this meant little in the darkness that engulfed her bedroom. The crunching sound grew louder and she could tell whoever or whatever it was was approaching her bedside. She began to fear if she was under threat, and held Lady close, going as far to bury her muzzle in her fluffy belly. She relaxed when she felt a gentle hoof brush through her mane, sending a tingle down her poor back. “Wake up, baby,” spoke a strange shaky voice that sounded like two changelings were speaking at the same time. Pupa instantly recognised it as belonging to her mother. Her eyes shot wide open and snapped her head in the voice’s direction. In the darkness that engulfed her bedroom, she could surprisingly well make out the form of her beautiful mother standing there, smiling down upon her with truly all the love in the world. Pupa broke free from her tight blanket and held her forelegs out for her mother, yearning for her sweet embrace. Her mother smiled and gently climbed into the bed with the filly, nestling very close and draping her forelegs around her and the stuffed ladybug in a hug. They laid there for a while, enjoying each other’s (and Lady’s) company. Her mother soon broke the embrace and went back to stroking her filly’s mane some more, planting the occasional sticky, wet kiss on her face. Pupa moaned with pleasure, her left leg twitching slightly and finally falling asleep against her mother’s bosom. For her, if love was such an important food for her and her people, then this was all she would ever need. Yet this tranquil night came to an end when the rays of Princess Celestia’s sun gradually shone through the shoji window screens of her room. Cerci, freshly awakened and washed, eventually entered the room with careful footing. She found the regal filly strewn over the bed alone, still hugging Lady and her eyes moving about in their sockets, indicating she was still peacefully dreaming. The loving nanny smiled; she hated the thought of disturbing the little creature, but they had their daily schedule to keep and there was the minor fact Pupa’s sheets were utterly drenched with drool. Princess Pupa spent the first few hours of her morning as she usually did by having more tablets shovelled down her throat, then being thoroughly washed and lastly dressed by her elite squadron of nannies and hoofmaidens, of which Cerci was the head. The whole process was by no means an easy one. After she had just woken up, the Princess tended to get quite cranky and had a tendency to lash out at her nannies and maids as they tried to prep her for the day. It did not help that she already disliked most changelings besides Cerci touching her. That morning alone, when one maid tried to tie an obi rather tightly around her waist, Pupa bucked her hind legs to get her to stop, unintentionally striking said maid in the eye, who bowed before her and went to put an ice pack over her eye. When the Princess was finally cleaned and dressed up in a beautifully pristine lilac kimono and a crown that looked a miniature version of her mother’s, Cerci picked her up and flew off to the dining room. “Don’t worry, we’ll apologize to her later,” said Cerci to a shamefaced Pupa, picking the filly’s spirits up and softening her guilt. It was now time for breakfast with the rest of the Royal Household, as was tradition. The dining room was grand enough to seat two hundred changelings at a time. Its walls were coloured dark cerulean and grey, the colours of the kingdom’s flag, but they were lost in a sea of tapestries and priceless artwork. Three large golden ornamental chandeliers were hanging from the dome ceiling, which was decorated with paintings of the countryside, showing off the natural beauties of their nation outside the cities. The members of Royal House of Roachanov assembled at the short polished dark wood table, sitting down on their haunches with their hind legs crossed. They were a large clan, their dynasty reaching back as far as four hundred years and consisted well over a hundred members, many of whom were not present; a colourful collection of princes and princesses. Pupa was positioned right next to the far end of the table with Cerci, being cradled in the elder’s forelegs like a larva. Whenever Pupa was surrounded by her extensive family, she could always sense the pride and love radiating off them all. She did know how to feed off another creature’s love, but it was a sacred rule that nochangeling would ever feed off their own kind (unless willingly given), not that such a vile thought would ever cross her simple mind. Even so, like all changelings, the Crown Princess could finely pick up on emotions like a radar, and what she felt made her cheeks blush. It all made sense to Cerci. Whether the filly fully understood it or not, Pupa was the centre of this large, united family, the focus of all its hopes and affections, the “Baby”. No other changeling filly was more beloved. The family waited silently for its head, the monarch to arrive for them to start eating. She was somewhat later than usual, but when she finally did arrive, her presence was well made known. The golden double doors slowly opened and the dining room was flooded with the royal guards, all Arctic blue-eyed and maneless, who took up their places around the room, all of them armed with spears and looking like they were ready to draw blood at the nod of a head. As this all happened, everychangeling in the room stood up. Finally the most powerful changeling on the face of the planet walked in, flanked by her elite hoof-picked armoured guards. Pupa’s face lit up when she saw her standing out beautifully amongst the gruff, thuggish stallions. Her Mama. Acting in a manner as if she were the only changeling in the room, Queen Chrysalis sat down at the head of the table. She was wearing a gorgeous black and green patterned kimono trimmed with gold, neither the most glamorous or expensive garb, but it suited her. Chrysalis was never known to be flashy. Without a word, breakfast began. The table was decorated with a diverse abundance of food, consisting of the traditional Changeling and the modern Equestrian, enough to feed an entire village for a month. Amongst the more traditional foods, they included bowls of rice, cooked meat of various animals and hot, delicious bowls of glowing pink love soup, whilst the modern spread included the kind of foods that would be eaten at Canterlot Castle, like toast, fruit, cakes, macaroons, pastries, fine tea and coffee, etc. But the pièce de résistance was the fine collection of ponies placed on silver platters, all bound and groaning through their gags like the souls of the damned. Pupa, already a porky filly, even by aristocratic standards, fidgeted in Cerci’s legs to get her to start feeding her. The older mare used her horn magic to levitate chopsticks or lumps of food into the Princess’ mouth. Pupa needed a lot of help when it came to eating; she found it difficult to chew some solid foods by herself. Cerci would have to use her horn magic to take control of the filly’s jaw to chew for her. Within minutes, the Princess polished off the rice, love soup and meat and moved onto the sweeter dishes. She was extremely fond of fruits, and Cerci kept shovelling them into her mouth like a waste disposal. Unfortunately, this only further led to Pupa making a complete mess of herself, most unbecoming of a Princess. Her muzzle was covered in rice, cream, soup, and meat and sticky fruit juices that ran down to her chest and large tummy, spoiling her once pristine kimono. None of her family members, on the other hoof, who were eating with enough eloquence to prevent a single drop landing on their persons, paid any notice. It was only when boredom set in and Pupa’s other bad habits at the table resurfaced that her family’s patience was tested. Young Pupa was fascinated by other creatures’ manes; the colours, the texture, the way some of them flowed in the wind. Combined with her being an exceptionally grabby filly, this often led to some uncomfortable moments. So when she spotted her older cousin’s pretty purple mane done up in a fashionable new style, Pupa could only think to reach out and grab a feel. “Ow. Ow!” The older cousin squealed as Pupa grabbed and tugged on one of her locks. “Pupa, stop it!” “Pupa,” Cerci scolded the filly, swatting her hoof to get her to let go. “Stop that at once, young lady.” Her orders fell on deaf ears, and rubbed the silky smooth mane against her cheek, staining it with the food stains still on her face. It was only thing she could think to do. She then pulled harder, causing her cousin to scream louder and made even more of a spectacle. “Ow, ow, OW!” “Pupa, let go of your cousin’s mane, immediately!” The other members of the royal family either tried to ignore what was going on or tried to interfere, depending on how close they were to the commotion. The guards just stood where they were, stone-faced and not even twitching in reaction to the fairly humorous scene unfolding in front of them. The situation would have only got worse if a certain voice did not speak up. “I’m trying to eat here.” Everychangeling, including Pupa, went dead silent, stopping what they were doing and their heads spinning in the direction of the end of the table. Chrysalis’ head was raised from the trembling pony she held in her forelegs, retracting her large wet fangs. Her menacing harlequin eyes, retracted into her skull with lines induced by lack of sleep and stress beneath them, turned on Pupa, Cerci and her niece. “Pupa. Let her go. Now.” A now very sheepish Pupa released her cousin’s mane and gave her a remorseful look as if to say ‘sorry’, while said cousin rubbed her now very sore head. Her mother’s harsh, impatient tone was enough to suck the playful giddiness out of the filly, reducing her to silently curling up against Cerci’s body. It was not just her who was suddenly fearful. Everychangeling else seemed to shy away at the sound of her sharp tone, as if they were afraid that she might lunge out and attack somechangeling at any moment. Chrysalis glowered at them for a few seconds, and then returned her focus on her breakfast, which was now crying fluidly and whose muffled wails could barely be heard through her apple gag. She icily addressed Cerci, although she was more focused on enlarging her teeth and examining the best place on the pony’s neck to continue her feeding. “Cerci, if you’re so incapable of reigning in my daughter’s behaviour at the table, then kindly take her outside. Some of us have a long day ahead and don’t have time for her acting up.” “... Yes, my Queen.” Standing up and bowing in respect, Cerci hoisted Pupa up so their heads were the same height and quietly hovered towards the double doors. Some of the other royals watched her depart; the others continued eating like nothing happened. This was not the first time, after all. The filly peered regretfully over her nanny’s shoulder at her mother, who merely casted a cold look of indifference at her out the corner of her eye. She frowned sadly and slumped on Cerci’s shoulder, clinging onto the inferior fabric and the feeling of guilt growing inside her as the doors slammed loudly behind them. When they were far enough away, Cerci took Pupa to a lavish chair and sat her down roughly on it. She was not particularly happy with the filly at the moment, who pouted grumpily and looked down at the floor, wanting to avert her stony gaze. “Your Highness,” Pupa winced at her nanny sternly addressing her by that formal term. She only ever called her that when she was about to lecture her. She remained hovering in mid-air, crossed her forelegs, and continued, “Your mother was not proud of your behaviour back there, and to be honest, neither was I.” Pupa tried to keep up her grumpy façade by crossing her own legs and tucking her head into her own chest in defiance, but such an attempt was futile. The Princess’ love of her nanny was strong enough that it almost rivalled that for her mother, so even a glimmer of anger from Cerci was enough to intimidate her. Slowly, she raised her head to face Cerci with moist puppy dog eyes. “Don’t give me that look, young lady, you know what you did.” Despite how justified she was in scolding her, Cerci could not help but feel horrible for doing it, especially when she had to stare into those adorable watering eyes. The sticky mess on her face only served to make her appear so pathetic that Cerci had to restrain herself from squeezing her like a teddy bear. “You’ve been told time and time again not to pull on other changelings’ manes, but you did it anyway.” A whinny escaped Pupa’s pursed lips and she began tugging on a lock of her own cerulean mane. Cerci sighed heavily, her shoulders dropping and tone becoming softer, “I know how much you like them, but how many times do I need to tell you? It violates other changelings’ personal space and what’s more, it’s rude!” At first, Pupa seemed not to understand, until she heard those last two words and nodded timidly. “How would you like it if somechangeling just came up and yanked on your mane? I wouldn’t think you’d like that very much, would you?” Pupa simply stared back at her with a blank expression, blinking a few times. Cerci groaned again in frustration and rubbed her temples, turning her back to the filly. “Oh, Pupa, what am I going to do with you?” A painful silence followed. The elder mare felt something prod her against the back, making her turn around to see ‘the face’. Pupa’s harlequin eyes (she had her mother’s eyes) were dilated, her cheeks were puffed out and she was smiling so sweet it would give a less experienced mare diabetes. The nanny had to suppress a chuckle. “Don’t you try and play that on me, little one. It doesn’t work.” That was, until Pupa put on the quivering bottom lip which combined with those eyes, made Cerci’s heart melt like butter. “Aw baby... c’mere...” She coiled her forelegs around the filly’s waist and held her close. “Who could ever stay mad at you?” Pupa mumbled into her chest, the best the mare could make out to be an apology. “I know you are, sweethear--” She cringed uncomfortably when she held her away and discovered bits of rice and fruit juices on her own kimono. Pupa held her hooves to her mouth, giggling at the sight. “Okay, that was my fault.” Her anger dissipated and now replaced with love and affection, Cerci carried her charge down the corridor in the direction of the bathroom for the second time that day, and it was unlikely to be the last.