The Canterlot Public Library had last been rebuilt nearly two hundred years ago, when civic priorities placed more emphasis on spectacle and less on functionality. The great interior open space of the original plan had been gradually partitioned into wooden reading stalls and rows of ugly but sturdy prefabricated steel bookshelves to keep up with the growing number of patrons and books.
As head librarian of the Canterlot Public Library, Twilight Sparkle dealt mainly with the administrative matters that had given her more than a few of the gray hairs in her mane. But on that day she'd been at the registration desk taking care of customers. She had sensed the library grow even quieter than usual, and looked up from stamping a date-due card.
"So if I can check out three books for four weeks, it stands to reason I should be allowed twelve books for one week!" the older unicorn mare across the desk in front of her continued. "Furthermore ... ah ... excuse me! I am speaking to you!"
But Twilight merely stared, slack-jawed, over the shoulder of the agitated mare, who finally huffed and turned around to see what was there.
A few steps away, Princess Celestia, eldest of the ruling diarchs of Equestria, stood next to a small sapphire-blue unicorn filly. The two of them stood just in front of two tall white unicorns barded in gold and standing at attention, and just behind a brass stanchion with a small white sign on top that said "PLEASE FORM SINGLE LINE HERE".
"Y-Your Majesty!" the library patron gasped.
"Please," Celestia said with a gracious smile. "Do continue."
The panicked mare dropped her entire stack of books on the floor while trying to bow and back up at the same time. She gave a startled whinny when they landed with a bang, then galloped away and was swallowed up in the dim maze of tall old bookshelves in History and Biography.
Twilight pushed forward against the edge of her desk. "Princess Celestia!"
"Shh," Celestia cautioned, then motioned with her eyes towards a sign that said "QUIET PLEASE".
Twilight frantically searched her memory for the proper protocol for greeting royalty from behind a desk. Grinning like a moron was probably incorrect, but it was all she could come up with on short notice.
"Introduce yourself, Starflower," the princess said, nudging the small blue unicorn, who seemed more intimidated by Twilight than by Celestia but stepped bravely up. Her chin barely reached the edge of the desk.
"Excuse me, miss, my name is Starflower, and I'd like a library card, if you please."
"I see. Do you have some identification, Starflower?"
Starflower bit her lips and shook her head.
"Well, do you have anypony here who can vouch for your identity?" Twilight craned her neck far to each side in turn, as if searching the far reaches of the library for such a person.
Celestia stepped forward. "Perhaps my word will do?"
"Oh!" Twilight said, feigning surprise. She rubbed her muzzle. "Do you have some identification, miss?"
Celestia's eyes drifted in thought. "Well ... yes! I have my library card." She magicked a small grey card out of nowhere to land on the desk in front of Twilight with a surprisingly solid click.
Twilight's ears twitched in surprise. "This ... is stone." She squinted at the card. "And it expired ... if I'm reading this inscription right ... fifteen hundred years ago."
"Did it? Oh dear. I may have some overdue fines."
Twilight had never figured out how to tell when Celestia was joking and when she was being serious, and sometimes suspected no such distinction existed for the princess. She turned to the filly. "Okay, Starflower. I think I can trust this nice lady. Fill out this form, draw a picture of your cutie mark in this box, and I'll make up a card for you." She gave Starflower a blank form and a pencil, and turned back to Celestia. "It's so nice of you to visit, Princess! What can I help you find?"
"Nothing today, Twilight. I have my own library, you know. But one's first library card is an important symbolic threshold. I remember how much you loved yours."
Twilight blushed. "You do?" Then she remembered. "Princess! I was thinking about Haydigger's theory of the mitdasein, and that maybe it could form a bridge between Marehayana Buddhism and Neighzsche's will to power—"
Celestia nodded. "I wrote something about that myself, after a lecture by Canter."
"But—but that was a hundred years before Neighzsche or Haydigger."
"Great minds think alike. Which is sometimes a little boring."
Twilight inhaled sharply. Boring. The simplicity of the word chilled her.
She quickly brightened again. "If it's excitement you want, we just unpacked the new edition of the Encyclopedia Equestria! The one with the new magical index that can find all instances of any words or phrase you ask it for!"
Celestia smiled. "As enticing as that sounds, I'm afraid we can't stay. I still have to meet with the Ministers of Agriculture and Horticulture before sunset, and I know they'll spend half an hour just arguing about bee allocations. They always want to overwork the poor dears."
Starflower pushed the completed form back across to Twilight, who saw the filly had listed the castle as her address.
"Where are you staying in the castle?"
"In the north tower. I have my own room! Way up so high that when I look out my window I can see—"
"Ponyville," Twilight whispered along with Starflower. She blinked and shook her head. "I'll print up your card right away, Starflower. Of course, you can pick it up tomorrow. Or I can mail it to, um, the castle. If you really can't stay." She looked hopefully toward the princess.
"Thank you, that would be perfect," Celestia said. "It is always a pleasure to see you, Twilight." She turned to leave, then stopped, and added, "And, Twilight? I am always interested in your opinion. But you do understand, you don’t need to impress me anymore.”
Impress her?
"Goodbye then, and thanks again," Twilight said as the princess and her entourage departed. "If you need anything, I'll be—" The doors clicked shut behind the last guard on his way out.
"—right here."
She wondered how Bluebell, Celestia's last star pupil, was doing. She probably ought to write her a letter or something. Welcome her to the ex-students club. Help her adjust.
Maybe later.