"...Who is a handsome, evil mastermind? Oh, yes... You are!", said the prince to his noble self. This had been going on for almost half an hour now. A lonesome parade, yet the one-stallion audience seemed just as delighted each time it beheld itself in the mirror. The steady beat of rain against the balcony accompanied the performance, chocolate rain, to be precise. All of Canterlot suffered under magically-induced chaos. Ponies ran about like rodents far below, which added to our hero's amusement even further. It was fun. Truly, it was!
"Ahh, Discord, my compliments and applause. I could well become addicted to your artwork... Da capo, maestro! Da capo!", cried the prince as he tossed a red rose down from the balcony. Falling downwards, tumbling back and forth, here and there, until finally it reached the ground. Or, well, whatever was currently in the way of said surface... Which unfortunately happened to be the leftmost of Fancy Pants' buttocks. A strange coincidence, maybe? Just as strange as the fact that but one thorn had remained upon the otherwise bare stem; a thorn whose destiny it was to inflict pain on the stallion in question, apparently.
Yet prince Blueblood would never learn the tale of rose, sky n' pain. Dancing waltz upon his balcony with gleeful demeanor still, overjoyed by how well everything had turned out thus far. The gold stashed away safely. The allegiance of the Ironhoof family was now guaranteed. To top it all off the entire realm stood under the influence of such an astounding fellow as this ol' draconequus.
Indeed, everything was simply marvelous right now. Except for one, tiny-winy aspect, of course... The prince had a craving for tea, but he was much too lazy to go fetch a cup. What was the matter with servants these days? One little demi-god running about causing mayhem and they all felt inclined to take the day off, without as much as stating their reason. "Humbug", said the prince in clearly faked voice.
It was rather comfy in the castle, seeing as it was silent and all. Something did disturb the tranquility slightly. The sound of someone's hooves treading back and forth over by the main entrance. In a stroke of curiosity the prince decided to sneak a peek. Not that he had any reason to hide. It was simply more entertaining to remain unseen. Surprisingly enough it was his aunt, princess Celestia herself. To see her be so openly nervous was a rare sight indeed. Well, at any rate he would keep an eye on this little game of theirs, whilst cheering silently for the draconequus-team.
Leaving the scene he headed for the castle kitchens. From out of one of the outer windows he noticed a troop running towards the inner entrance. They had already passed the far gate and showed no sign of relenting. Prince Blueblood recognized two of the members, that "what's-her-name" Sparkle and that weird mare whom kept pestering him during the gala. When he thought about it she was probably also the current record holder among those ponies whom he had tried to get rid off. She had almost endured his "reversed-chivalry, combined with narcissism"-drama an entire evening, which was sort of impressive, all things considered.
Devoid of all life, draped in darkness. Not the kind of sensation one would expect of a kitchen. A small trail of light followed him the first few yards, as the door kept opening itself with a creaking sound. The light was soon welcomed by the shiny surfaces of pots and pans, allowing its reflection to play throughout the room.
Boiling the tea went fairly smooth, assuming one doesn't count incinerated kitchenware as a significant loss. Then there was the matter of waiting. Blueblood would no longer allow his noble self to be subdued by the bitter tyranny of waiting. Three to five minutes was simply unacceptable!
Therefore he began stirring the cup, while casting an eye at his own reflection in one of the pans. There was no denying it. No matter how hard he tried. He was simply too fabulous! Allowing his mind to wander, pondering his own excellency and tipping over the cup in the process. An insignificant sacrifice in front of such beauty that stroke his eyes.
Porcelain fare badly when faced with floors, it would seem. Particularly those made of stone, to no one's surprise. Still feeling a tad annoyed by the servants' display of lacking passion for their trade the prince had no intention of cleaning up the mess. Somehow, however, he felt inclined to approach the pool. Weird as it might seem the prince looked into the blank surface. The image of a face, as black as night with fiery emerald eyes, flashed in the spilled beverage, to vanish in an instant. Again, he thought. It occurred more frequently than before.
A sigh escaped the mouth of the regal stallion. Truly, the day was still young. Why bother with broken cups and the like? The night had been long and tiring and soon enough the Ironhoof brothers would return. There was still the matter of restoring their nobility, or at least to start laying the foundation for doing do. Officials to be bribed, silent threats to be made, blackmailing, hiring mercenaries and all the likes of similar arrangements that filled his to-do list. Indeed, the day had just begun.
"So much to do, so little time... Might as well savour the moment", said the prince as he freed his gaze from a curl of his mane and left to spectate the chaos that ravaged the city.