Gilda's Inferno
Maybe I should have pushed her in front of that bolt! Ugh, I can't believe I'm stuck with her for five more days. It's okay. All I need is a shower, and I'll cool off, I thought.
Needless to say, a shower didn't cut it. I was just as pissed as I had been, but at least I didn't smell like ass. I stuffed my nasty jacket into a laundry bag and sent it down the chute. I'm definitely not jealous of the housekeeper that had to clean it. I shook the water out of my feathers and sat on my bed. To be honest, I was torn. Half of me was pissed because I nearly let my mark catch a bolt to the chest. The other half of me was pissed because the guy firing it had missed her. It was a weird feeling.
I didn't know whether or not he was actually going for her, but I did know that I was gonna have to stick to her like glue after something like that. Director Brinks trusted me, and I'm not gonna betray that trust. Also, if the head alicorn herself said this prissy unicorn needed protection, then I would give it to her. After all, she'd sent her own sister to the moon for a thousand years. No telling what she would do to someone that's not even one of her "little ponies" or whatever.
Thankfully, it was well past midnight, and I wouldn't have to worry about listening for that bell anymore. I laid down on my bed and spread my wings. I hadn't used them all day, but I'll be damned if they weren't tired. This was the toughest assignment yet. I mean, it'd be one thing if I had to protect Dash or someone I actually gave a crap about, but her? Bleh, I couldn't care less what happens. But it's my job to care, and I love a paycheck a lot more than I hate snobby fashion types.
Besides, maybe it wouldn't be so bad. All I'd have to do is keep an eye out for crossbow-wielding lunatics. Although, the first one was pretty hard to spot... but screw that. I was the best bodyguard out of all of those washouts! If anyone could protect a pony from an assassin with piss-poor aim, it was me.
I glanced at my clock on the nightstand. It was already one in the morning. If I was gonna follow Rarity around Canterlot tomorrow, I needed to get some rest.
The bubbles of the hot tub were certainly a welcome feeling against my aching hooves. After all, it's not every day that a lady has to run from danger while her slack-jawed gawker of a bodyguard stands there listlessly as an assassin tries to end her life. I suppose she eventually got me to safety, but after how long? I was left to panic near a bleeding Hoity Toity before she finally showed up. And on top of that, she allowed me to get covered in filth!
I don't suppose there was any way she could have known the fire alarm was going to go off, but still. I didn't design almost-award-winning dresses just to be doused in foul-smelling water.
Thankfully, the hotel staff had given me a complimentary bottle of champagne I had yet to open. A quick chilling spell and the bottle became frosted with a coat of ice. I'm sure they set out flutes for the champagne, but I'm also sure I was far too tired to search for them. No one was here to judge me if I drank from the bottle, anyway. The view from my room was simply magnificent, but even spectacular heights couldn't distract me from what I'd seen earlier that day. Who would want to hurt Hoity Toity? Who would want to hurt any fashion icon? Sure, they decide if a certain fabric, pattern, or wardrobe is out of style, but is that any reason to make an attempt on somepony's life?
The most unsettling thing about the whole ordeal was that the assailant was still on the loose! Who knows what could have set that crazed individual off? What if he's targeting the fashion industry? What if I'm next? I shook such horrid thoughts from my head. There could be no room for such ideas if I was going to present my designs at the pre-show brunch tomorrow morning.
The more I tried to forget about it, the more I remembered the commotion, the panic, and the horrible image of Hoity on the floor. He was still conscious when they took him to the hospital, so hopefully he would be fine.
Suddenly the relaxation the hot tub normally afforded me was nowhere to be found. I climbed out and covered myself in the complementary bathrobe. I wanted to blame Gilda, but I knew I couldn't. I told her to stay aloof, and true to her word, she did just that. Besides, it looked like I was going to need her, whether I liked it or not. I climbed into bed, but sleep did not come easy. I drew the rest of the champagne to my bedside table. I'd get to sleep one way or another.
I had already burned through my morning workout by the time Her Highness decided to wake up. I had also already gone down to the chow hall for my breakfast. Employees have separate stuff from the guests. I guess it's not professional or something to have everyone eat in the same place. I had been quiet leaving the room, but by the time I got back, I didn't bother. Besides, if she was going to be ready to go to the next dumb fashion thing, she should have already been awake.
I walked in on her trying to decide which clown suit she would wear to our next event. I had just taken the elevator from the gym—I hadn't even showered off. Needless to say, I was kinda ripe. The face she made when she saw me with a sweaty gym towel over my shoulder was almost enough to make me leave and walk back in again. I had half a mind to fling my towel across her clothes rack, but like I've been saying since all this started: I needed this job.
"Ugh, I can smell you from here!" She turned her nose up. Come to think of it, that was pretty much the only way I saw her.
She started looking me over as I made my way to my room—like she was expecting something. "Something I can do for you, princess?" I couldn't openly mock her, but I could ratchet up my sarcasm a little.
"You didn't bring up my breakfast from the kitchen?" She sounded honestly upset.
"Hell, no. I'm your bodyguard, not your butler."
She scrunched her nose at me as I tossed my towel into the bathroom hamper. If I didn't think she'd have Director Brinks up here in a heartbeat, I would've tossed it on her head. She picked up the phone and called room service while I showered. Since my only jacket was soaked in filth, I had to go in my fur and feathers, which was fine by me. I'm not sure what 'brunch' is, but I could only hope it wouldn't be as boring as that fashion show.
Well, I guess it was only boring for the first hour.
Anyway, as I was toweling off, I could hear Rarity through the door.
"Forty-five minutes? For a plate of crepes? No, never mind."
I straightened my feathers and stepped out of my room. Thankfully she had picked a dress by then. Before she opened her mouth, I knew what she was going to say. "Tell me you have another jacket."
"Nope." I had to fight the urge to smirk. I wanted to so bad. "It won't be ready until tonight."
She rolled her eyes. I should have been used to that by now. "Fine. Luckily for you, brunch is informal." She stepped towards the door, levitating a puffy hat onto her head that matched her dress—I think it did, anyway. I don't know about this kind of junk. "Come along, now. Brunch is nothing to be fashionably late for."
There aren't words in Equestrian or Avian to express how tired I was of that tone she kept using. It reminded me of the one my mom used to use when she shopped me around to fancy private flight schools. Condescending as all get-out.
I followed her outside, sure to take a key this time along with my dagger. Wings can be used for storage as well as flight. Not many non-griffons realize that.
Anyway, we get to the elevator, and start the ride down. Talon to Syrell, nothing is more awkward than a long elevator ride. We stepped into the hallway for what I expected to be more silence until she spoke up.
"Have you heard anything about Hoity?" she asked. She'd dropped the attitude, and that was a start. Turns out, my buddy Flint knew a little bit more about him. We shot the breeze at breakfast, and it came up.
"Yeah. Nothing vital got hit. He's pretty lucky."
She nodded, pinning a stray strand of mane behind a hairpin. "That's good to hear. I don't suppose he identified his attacker?"
"Not that I know of, but I'm not a cop."
Her change in tone was pretty out-of-the-blue, but I remember thinking: "Maybe I outlasted her attitude?" After all, nobody can be a bitch forever, right? We stood on the curb for a few seconds before she turned to me. "Are you going to call me a cab or just stand there?"
Well, maybe some ponies could.
The brunch was to be held at a very chic diner. So chic in fact, that it didn't have a name. It was just 'the diner.' It was booked months in advance most of the year, but it made an exception for fashion week. The label secured a place for me, and it was certain to be filled with fashion moguls! In fact, I was due to meet my sponsor there. I had met him once before in Canterlot while on delivery a few months back. Since then, we had kept up a correspondence through the mail, but I was looking forward to meeting him to finalize the designs of my upcoming fall line.
We arrived and were seated at a long table, a veritable 'who's who' of the fashion world! Gilda and I took our reserved seats as I made conversation with a model I recognized from the night before. As to be expected, Gilda was not sociable, but that didn't mean I couldn't network a bit. The seat next to me at the head of the table was empty, but it didn't take long to find out who it had been reserved for.
Avant Garde, the latest fashion industry player strode in, his fitted suit matching his perfectly coiffed mane. He smelled of freshly picked cherries and carried himself in a way I had that seemed oddly familiar. I didn't have to look beside me to know Gilda was more than likely wearing the same scowl she'd worn at last night's fashion event.
"Rarity, you look as lovely as the first time I laid eyes on you." He raised my hoof and kissed it gently. Always a gentlecolt!
"Thank you, darling." They brought us our food after about our fourth or fifth mimosa. That's the thing about brunch. It's just an excuse for rich people to drink in the morning. However, I must admit champagne went better with omelets than I'd suspected. Once we'd all eaten, Avant raised his fork and clanged it against his glass. The dull murmurs in the room died down as he stood up.
"Ladies and gentlecolts, Avant fashions may be the newest, hottest label out of Manehattan, but I know raw, undiscovered talent when I see it." I could already feel myself blushing. I try to be as humble as possible, but come now! This is my element! I could stand to be a bit egotistical. "And that new talent comes to us from even the most backwater of towns! Fellow trendsetters, I have lobbied the fashion week committee to showcase her fall line at the closing show!"
I was expecting good news, but this! I knew I was going to have the chance to show Avant some of my pieces, but I'd never expected them to be worn by actual models! Designers work for years and don't get their work entered into the final show! As my head swam in the possibilities, Avant turned to me and raised his glass. "To you, my dear."
This was it! This is exactly the outcome I had hoped for, and now it was a sure thing! Nothing could stop me. I was on an elevator ride to the top of the fashion world!
Yikes. Why do all fashion types look like they would blow away in a stiff breeze? And why do they all bathe in cologne? I mean, I get not wanting to smell like a weight room but geez. Anyway, after we ate, he announced Rarity's dresses would be put in the last show or something. I don't know what makes that so special, but she seemed pretty excited about it. Pretty soon, the champagne bottles were all empty, and the tables started to clear out. Not soon enough if you ask me.
"I'm going to freshen up," Rarity whispered, already out of her seat before I could react. With last night's events still in mind, I considered following her.
I nodded. Luckily for me, I could see the bathroom from my seat. On top of that, the security sweep I did last week told me the bathroom was single player, so there was little chance of something happening to her. Still, nothing was supposed to happen at that warehouse show either. Was I going to bank my reputation and my job on the assumption that no one was hiding in that bathroom waiting to kill her?
While I waited, I overheard a few other guards talking about last night. It was mostly about how bad the water they got covered in smelled, but some were passing around conspiracy theories. One guy thought it was a rival designer. Another thought it was mob-related. And still another guy thought the shooter was just one of your garden-variety lunatics. Any of them could have been right, for as much as I knew. I had questions of my own, but I had no idea where I could find answers. It didn't really matter anyway. As long as I kept my mark safe for another few days, I'd get my pay and move on with my life.
Before I had any more time to think about the ways a would-be assassin could hurt Rarity, she came out of the bathroom. That attack last night really had me rattled. I mean, they still hadn't caught the guy, and no one knows why he did it, or if he even hit his mark. Everyone around that guy who took the bolt could have been a target.
We left the diner and caught a cab back to the hotel. Excited as she seemed at the diner, she didn't say much on the way back. It was just as well; I wouldn't have had much to say anyway. We ended up back in the room, and that's when she really opened up. 'Oh, which dresses should I showcase? What sizes do I use? Blah, blah.' I didn't know why she was asking me, but I gave her an answer all the same.
"I dunno."
She rolled her eyes, but not in the annoying way she had before. Maybe this fashion show thing was a bigger deal than I realized. While she was busy bouncing around the room, scattering her clothes all over the place, I decided now would be a good time for a nap. Our next event wasn't until that night, so we had some downtime until then.
I stepped into my room, leaving the door open so I could still hear her. She hadn't used that stupid bell in a while, but that might have been because I stuck it under my mattress last night. Anyway, a quick sleep for a few hours would put me in the right mindset to keep an eye on her. Unlike the last one, this fashion show was supposed to last for awhile. Plus, I'm sure she'll be in a celebrating mood.
I curled onto my bed and passed out. Tonight was gonna be a long one.
My goodness, what a morning! Thank Celestia I still had a few hours to decide which pieces I wanted showcased. This was no easy choice, believe me. It was like choosing your favorite amongst your children! Gilda had been about as much help as I expected she would be with this kind of thing, but no matter. As she was quick to remind me, her only job is to keep me alive.
As I took a break from my decisions, I thought back on the events from my arrival. Although I didn't appreciate her attitude, Gilda had been nothing if not dutiful. And if I'm being honest... I wasn't exactly being the most gracious client. Perhaps I should do something nice for her? I recall thinking. But blast if I didn't know what a ruffian like Gilda would consider nice. Probably a shot of hard alcohol and a kick to the face, but who knows for certain. I tried to think of what Rainbow Dash would like, seeing as how they were pretty close for a time.
Probably a stiff drink and an even stiffer stallion, but I could only get one on such short notice. That's when it hit me! She hated that bell director Brinks had given me, and she thought herself sly by stashing it beneath her mattress. I recovered it while she was showering this morning, but destroying it could be a kind enough gesture. I snapped the handle from the bell with my magic and set it on her nightstand. As I glanced into her room, I had to admit she didn't look near as menacing when she was asleep. In fact, something about her curled up on her bed reminded me of Opal.
Anyway, from what I understand, griffons are one of the few civilized creatures that eat meat. This being an international hotel, I bet I could order some salmon or something with my lunch for her. After all, the label has already paid for almost everything. Hm... that kind of cheapens the gesture... but what she doesn't know won't hurt her! I dialed room service and placed my orders. They hadn't quickened their delivery times since breakfast, so I had a bit of time to flesh out a few more sketches on my design pad I'd been contemplating. After all, a good designer doesn't rest on her laurels. Stagnation is poison to the artist, and I must not let that happen!
Besides, tonight was another fashion show, and another party. Only this time I had something to celebrate!