Confessions of a Princess
Dear Rarity,
I myself have a secret that I'd like to share. I enjoy getting dirty too.
I can certainly understand your plight well, my dear little pony. When one is royalty it comes with so many responsibilities that are simply left out of the fairy tales read to little fillies when they're growing up. Fanciful clothing, adoring subjects and servants are certainly a part of it all, but so are the many, many meetings that must be attended to on a daily basis, meeting with nobles and foreign dignitaries, and being savy in the politics of their government, familiar with local traditions regarding not only rule but the role gender plays in the matter...I must confess it can be overwhelming no matter how educated one may be. There are times when you just feel the urge to scream and pull your mane out in frustration, or to issue a decree that you will be meeting with no more dignitaries that day due to having a migraine.
We all have our ways of coping with our responsibilities, not only to ourselves but to others. We are all in need of some sort of relief from the day-to-day strain we must suffer to carry out our roles, some hobby to distract ourselves, some little rebellion from order for the sake of our sanity and our well being. However the extent that we can get away with them is another matter entirely. Some of us are in a position where this proves more difficult than it does for others. On more than one occasion I have longed for the chance to get away and simply run with no specific destination in mind. I would so love to simply disregard my royal duties of the day and gallop through the Everfree Forest without a care in the world, stirring up huge billowing clouds of dirt all around me and not making my way back to Canterlot until long after dawn had broken, my white coat and flowing mane stained so many different shades of brown that it simply wouldn't do to meet with visiting dignitaries and the local chancellors. But sadly this isn't a possibility for me.
There have been many times that I have wished for a successor to the throne, someone that could one day take over the responsibilities I have, thus allowing me to be free like so many other ponies. Sadly for a successor to be named it would be necessary for them to possess considerably stronger magical talent than myself. My precious student Twilight Sparkle most certainly has the potential for this feat, but I would never wish the burden of leadership on her as I know what it would involve.
For now all I can do is dream about the life that is so far out of my reach, and yet so close my hooves could almost touch it...
Like you I too understand the importance of having a special room one can call their own and only their own, a room where intrusion by the outside world isn't accepted. For you it is your dress making room. For me it is my private chambers, which are completely separate from the royal chambers. However I must apologize as I cannot go into detail as to what these chambers hold within.
I can also understand how you feel that your secret isn't something you can freely share with your friends. There are things that even now I still can't bring myself to share with my dear sister Luna. It may not seem like it now, but one lesson you'll learn about the magic of friendship is that it doesn't require total honesty with everyone about everything. Sometimes there are secrets that simply need to be kept regardless of what others may say.
Sincerely,
Princess Celestia
P.S. I would indeed buy an exquisitely designed gown from a pony regardless of how disheveled and uncouth they may look if I believed that they put their heart into it and genuinely cared about the quality of their work and the finished product.
Rarity...she simply couldn't believe the letter as it came to a close, this had to be a dream, it couldn't actually be real could it?
She had never expected that Princess Celestia would have actually responded to her letter, and especially not in such a manner. What's more the letter hadn't come through the usual channel of Spike but rather it had been delivered as if my telekinesis, having floated in through an open window in her boutique and setting itself down on her desk, her name emblazoned in a gold font on the ribbon that held it shut. Surely Princess Celestia didn't have the time to privately deliver a written response to her all the way from Canterlot...
...and yet she had. She had taken the time to read her letter and write a letter of her own in response, and then sent it out directly to her, delivered in a manner that guaranteed only she would be able to read it.
It wasn't ridicule or dismissal that Princess Celestia had sent, but rather the unexpected message of acceptance and understanding, even a confession of her own. By the time the surprise of it all had worn off near the end of the letter tears were already starting to stream down her face, tears that were born from an overwhelming sense of happiness. She had found someone who understood her; The Princess understood her!
"Yahoo!" she shouted excitedly and leaped for joy, not caring at all who she may be disturbing at this hour with her sudden outburst. With news like this she couldn't bring herself to care.
"Oh this is so wonderful, so wonderful," she said to herself, filled with so much excitement she was prancing in place and looking about the room. She had to do something in response to celebrate this newfound sense of freedom, the sense of no longer carrying such a heavy emotional burden.
But first before she could actually celebrate there was something else she had to do, something she knew that was far more pressing.
"Dear Princess Celestia," she read as she began taking a letter in response, so giddy she was having trouble with her usual orderly quillmanship, "I cannot even begin to thank you enough for actually taking the time to respond to my letter, or making me privy to such personal and secret information about yourself.
But I must start somewhere and at least try. What type of gown would you like?"