//------------------------------// // In Which Blueblood has Breakfast // Story: Blueblood's Big Bad Bloody Brilliant Brouhaha // by Ri2 //------------------------------// It was a lovely morning in Canterlot. This was hardly a surprise. It was always a lovely morning in Canterlot. After all, the pony responsible for making the morning lived there, so it was only to be expected. Said pony, the one and only Princess Celestia, was currently sitting down for breakfast with the rest of the Royal Family in the castle breakfast room, which only made sense, because where else would you eat breakfast but in a breakfast room? (Unless you were eating it in bed, I suppose. Celestia usually didn’t. It made a mess of the sheets, after all, and they were usually a mess already considering what she usually got up to in there.) Said Royal Family included her beloved sister, Princess Luna, the newly minted Princess Twilight, the chaos god Discord who as yet had been unable to find a title that both he and Celestia could agree on (he really didn’t understand what the problem with being called Most Badass Sexy Poobah of Chaos In The Entire Universe Who Is Better Than Princess Celestia In Every Way And Knows Exactly What To Do To Make Her Squeal Like A Schoolfilly was), and several dozen mortal Princes and lesser Princesses who are unimportant to this narrative but rest assured, they exist, and have their own detailed lives and personalities and backstories and are complex ponies in their own right but are by and large irrelevant to this story and are only mentioned to assure you that they were, in fact, present in the breakfast room at that particular moment, and serve no other purpose. (There were certain critics of the government who claimed that these mortal royals did not, in fact, serve any purpose whatsoever other than to walk around and look pretty. They weren’t entirely wrong.) The banal chatter of ponies asking each other whether they’d slept well, asking for seconds from servers, discussing the news, gossiping about each other, and plotting to overthrow the diarchy was interrupted when an armored Pegasus herald entered the room and shouted, “Now announcing His Royal Highness Prince Blueblood and Her Royal Highness Princess Crackle!” The Pegasus then stepped aside, allowing two extremely mismatched individuals to enter the room. One was an incredibly handsome white-coated blond-maned blue-eyed Unicorn stallion, Prince Blueblood, heir of the ancient line of Platinum (actually he was descended from a pooper-scooper that had just happened to live in Platinum’s household and her real heir was an up-and-coming fashionista in a small town out in the country, but Celestia saw no reason to tell him that), favored nephew of Princess Celestia (actually that was Prince Charming, but Celestia saw no reason to tell him that), and Faust’s gift to mares (completely untrue, most of the mares he’d been with had to be paid exorbitant fees ahead of time and didn’t enjoy it very much, but Celestia…oh, you get the point.). Beside him was his wife, the love…the beaut…the majest…the plai…er, the unique Princess Crackle, a large eight-legged green dragon with tiny wings, purple horns, gems embedded in her scales, a forked tongue dangling from one side of her mouth, and big red eyes that seemed to be capable of looking at two different things at once, and while in certain gray Pegasus mailmares that sort of thing was endearing, for Crackle it just…wasn’t. Not in the slightest. Heads turned and chairs screeched against the floor as the members of the Royal Family stared at Blueblood and Crackle as they walked past on their way to the end of the very, very long table everyone was seated at where Princess Celestia, Princess Luna, Princess Twilight, and Discord were waiting. Sensing their stares, Blueblood smiled smugly and puffed out his chest, certain that they were struck with awe and jealousy at how handsome he looked, especially in juxtaposition to the…dragon waddling next to him, not seeming to know where she was going, her tail wagging behind her and nearly knocking over servants too slow to get out of her way. Look as much as they liked, for that was as close as they would ever come to the physical perfection and sheer masculinity that he possessed! Why, even his aunts and Princess Twilight and Discord were in awe of…wait, something about that didn’t seem right…he knew his Alicorn relatives all had rather voracious…appetites, but none of them had ever expressed any interest in members of their own family before. Not that he’d mind if they did—incest was wincest, after all, and his aunts were very attractive mares—but something about the idea of them being attracted to him seemed oddly disturbing. And he’d thought Twilight was completely committed to those boorish peasant friends of hers, which he’d always considered a shame, because he honestly believed she could do so much better than them. (Namely, himself.) And Discord… Well, nobody really understood what drove that twisted creature or turned him on. Yes, he was most definitely sharing his dear Auntie’s bed, but was that because he was into that or because he just thought it would be fun? Nobody could say for certain. “Good morning, all. Is, er, there something on my face?” Blueblood asked in concern as he took his seat on Princess Twilight’s right side. Crackle didn’t sit next to him so much as slam the upper third of her body onto the table, causing all the place settings to rattle, while splaying the rest of her legs out beneath her, her tail smacking the ground repeatedly hard enough to crack it, much to the servants’ dismay. “Yes,” said a disturbed Princess Luna as she slowly put down her coffee mug and stared at her nephew in horror, the dark blue Alicorn’s starry mane messy and her eyes bleary and bloodshot from another long night of holding court (i.e. playing competitive online games into the wee hours of the morning). “Nephew, you are covered in scratches!” said the shocked Princess Celestia, whose alabaster coat and wavy multicolored mane, in contrast to her sister, somehow always managed to look absolutely perfect no matter what the situation, including just rolling around in mud or finishing a several-hour marathon. (A marathon of what, precisely, I will leave to the imagination.) “Very large scratches, at that!” “Oh, these,” Blueblood said dismissively, glancing at the rather large gashes covering his face and much of his body. Some of them were still bleeding. “I’d forgotten about those.” “What happened?! Did…did Crackle…” Twilight looked nervously at the princess currently drooling on the tablecloth, the lavender Alicorn noticing that the gashes all over Blueblood’s body looked like they could have been inflicted by a dragon’s claws. “Oooh, didn’t know you were into that sort of thing, Princey!” Discord, who was currently balancing sideways on one horn on top of Princess Luna’s horn while eating a newspaper and reading buttered toast through big Groucho Marx glasses with a bunny slipper on his lion paw, a brick over his eagle talon, rubber duckies strapped to his feet, and a bathrobe wrapped around his body backwards and upside-down, said gleefully. The chimerical mishmash of animal parts paused, then frowned and put his toast down on Luna’s nose while giving Blueblood an oddly serious look. “Well, unless you’re being domestically abused, in which case it’s not even remotely funny. Spousal abuse is completely unacceptable and unfunny, no matter which gender the abuser is.” “What? No!” Blueblood said in shock. “Crackle doesn’t…we’re not into that sort of thing! And besides, I had her claws removed when she started tearing up the furniture.” Not that that stopped her from teething on it, though…or marking her territory. “Ohhhhh,” everyone said in relief. “Although that begs the question of what you and Crackle are into-“ Discord started. Thankfully, Twilight interjected before anyone could think about that question too much. “But then, ah, how did you get those scratches, Blueblood?” “…Shaving accident,” Blueblood said, looking completely embarrassed. Everyone stared at him. “…I beg your pardon?” Luna asked after a moment. “Shaving accident,” Blueblood repeated a little louder, face turning red, and not just because of the blood dripping from his cuts. “My, uh, shaving attendant quit the other day for no reason whatsoever and certainly not because I started throwing bottles of conditioner at her and screaming insults on her skills and heritage because my trim was hideously uneven, and the replacement hasn’t come in yet, so I figured, ‘it can’t be that hard, uneducated peasants can do it after all,’ and tried it for myself, and you, ah, can see the results.” “But…you’ve cut yourself in other places aside from your face,” Twilight said in confusion. “I’m not very good at shaving,” Blueblood said miserably. Everyone facehooved. A few of the lesser royals began to snicker, much to the Prince’s chagrin. Even Aunt Luna looked like she was having trouble keeping from laughing. Discord had no such problem and burst into raucous laughter, pointing at Blueblood and guffawing while wriggling on Luna’s horn. Celestia sighed. “Oh, Blueblood…” The resignation, embarrassment, pity, and disappointment in those two words, which he seemed to hear several times a day from one or both of his aunts, his parents, his so-called friends and fellow nobles, the press, many of his past lovers/one-night stands (which was invariably what all of them except for Crackle had turned out to be), and his therapist set his nerves on edge and caused his teeth to start grinding, which would probably cause his dentist to say it too. He bet that Fancypants never felt like that. Whenever someone said, “Oh, Fancypants!” there was praise, pride, happiness, relief, and arousal from both mares and stallions behind it. Why couldn’t anyone ever sound like that when saying, “Oh, Blueblood?” What did Fancypants have that he didn’t? Well, aside from popularity, lots of money, a gorgeous fiance, a stylish monocle, an incredibly stallionly moustache, magnificently trimmed hooves and mane, such soft luscious lips, and he should probably stop this line of thought before it started getting weird. “You didn’t put on bandages? Or go to the infirmary and have some of the staff do it for you?” Twilight asked in alarm. “I didn’t want to be late for breakfast. I tried bandaging myself, and somehow wound up covering everything in my room but Crackle or myself in gauze, and I…can’t remember where the infirmary is,” Blueblood said lamely. “…The infirmary is next door to your room. Literally. It’s the next door down,” Twilight said. Blueblood flushed. “W-well, Discord must have moved it! He probably shifted around the castle interior again, like he did when I got lost on my way to that important diplomatic meeting last week.” “I didn’t move the castle interior around this morning or last week,” Discord said. (This was only half-true. He hadn’t done any screwing around with the interior this morning, but he certainly had last week, on Celestia’s request, to make sure Blueblood didn’t cause any…problems at the diplomatic meeting. The last time the prince been involved in talks with Zebrica, it had almost created a global war when he rather cluelessly asked what kind of paint the Zebra delegate used to touch up her stripes and wanted to know if it came off in water.) Celestia sighed. “Did you get lost again, Blueblood?” “I did not get lost!” Blueblood cried shrilly. “I have a perfect sense of direction!” This was a complete and utter lie. Many would look at Blueblood’s Cutie Mark and assume that he either had some kind of a talent for navigation or leadership since it was a compass. This couldn’t be further from the truth. He’d gotten his Cutie Mark when, as a child, he got lost in the Canterlot Hedge Maze and it took five days for anyone to find him (actually, only two minutes, he was literally like one turn away from the exit the entire time, it took five days for anyone to notice he was gone), and by the time he was rescued he’d eaten his own clothes out of hunger because it had never occurred to him to eat any of the hedges or grass, or rather, it had occurred to him but he refused to eat them because they were outside and covered in dirt and bugs and germs and other things and hadn’t been prepared by a highly-trained chef. “I mean, how else do you think I would have made it here on time?” “Because your wife smelled the food and you followed her here?” Luna suggested. The dragon in question was currently chewing on the tablecloth while blinking her eyes out of sync. “…No,” Blueblood lied. “And speaking of food…I am starving! You! Servant! Bring me food!” Blueblood shouted at a nearby server. Crackle made a strangled gurgling noise through the large piece of table she’d just ripped out with her teeth. “Oh, and her too.” “Yes, Prince Blueblood…” the servant muttered, rolling her eyes and trotting away. She came back a moment later with a covered dish on her back, which she slid onto the place setting before Prince Blueblood with practiced ease. Licking his lips hungrily, Blueblood clumsily tied his napkin around his neck like a bib—he’d never really gotten the hang of knots and usually had other ponies tie them for him--and knocked the cover off the dish… And stared blankly at the plate of hay and the bowl of oats that were waiting for him. “…What is this? This isn’t breakfast! It doesn’t even look edible!” “Actually, that’s hay and oats, a basic staple of the pony diet,” Twilight chirped. “What?! But that’s peasant fare! I am royalty! How dare you serve me such a plebian meal! I should have you fired for this!” Blueblood shouted angrily at the server. The mare looked back at him coldly, unflinching. “It’s the same dish we’ve served to everyone else this morning, in case you haven’t noticed,” she said, pointing to the plates in front of every other pony in the room, including the Alicorn Princesses, who seemed to have no problem with their meal and were digging in with gusto. Discord didn’t count since he could just make his own food. Or eat whatever he felt like. He did have the stomach of a goat, after all. (And several other stomachs from a number of different creatures, several of which did not actually exist, at that. Draconequus biology was weird.) That only made the prince angrier. “And you’re giving something as plain and, and, and common as this to your nation’s rulers, the luminaries who control every facet of your life, the deities who raise the sun and the moon and…do whatever it is Princess Twilight does?” “Hey!” Twilight said, miffed. “That’s a good question, actually. What is it you do again?” Discord asked innocently. Twilight glared at him. “This is treason! No, worse, this is sacrilege! You shouldn’t just be fired, you should be banished! No, imprisoned! No, imprisoned in the place you’re banished to! No, executed in the place you’re imprisoned wherever you’re banished to!” Blueblood ranted furiously. “Nephew-“ Celestia started, looking alarmed. The servant’s eyes narrowed, and her tone went from cold to sub-zero. “It’s all we have on hoof ever since a certain obnoxious member of the Royal Family called the Head Chef a talentless hack who wasn’t fit to work in a greasy spoon out in the furthest slums of Hollow Shades let alone the kitchens of Canterlot Castle due to said member of the Royal Family’s dessert not having enough sprinkles on it, causing the Head Chef to have a nervous breakdown and incite the entire kitchen staff to go on strike until they receive a formal apology.” “Oh,” Blueblood said, looking suitably chastened. “I…see. In that case, I see what must be done.” “You do?” the server asked in surprise. “You do?!” the Alicorn Princesses said in astonishment. “No, I don’t think he does,” Discord said. “What I must do…” Blueblood said dramatically. “Is berate Princess Polaris for being so rude to our kitchen staff!” “…Wait, what?!” the Princess in question (a beautiful dark blue and ice-white mortal Earth Pony with a Cutie Mark resembling the North Star, not one of the three divine Alicorns, just to be clear), sitting further down the table, said incredulously. “For shame, Polaris! The kitchen staff is very sensitive and of a delicate constitution, and need to be treated with a steady hoof due to their being our intellectual inferiors, just like the rest of the working class! Even if they were clearly in the wrong for not giving you enough sprinkles, saying the Head Chef wasn’t worthy of working at a greasy spoon in the furthest slums of Hollow Shades is going too far! Manehattan, perhaps, but certainly not Hollow Shades! I must insist that you apologize at once, so that we can get back to eating proper meals again instead of this swill!” “I…you…” Polaris, who’d always been very nice to the castle’s servants due to her father being a former window-washer that married up and made sure she never forgot where half her roots came from and was very popular with the staff as a result, stammered incoherently for a moment, eye twitching. Finally, teeth grinding together, she angrily stood up from her place and stomped out of the room, her hooves cracking the floor as she went. “There, that’s settled, she’s going to go apologize right now, so I don’t need to ruin my palate by eating this garbage,” Blueblood said triumphantly as he knocked his bowl and plate off the table, causing both to shatter on the ground, completely oblivious to Twilight banging her head against the table, his aunts facehooving, Discord shaking his head, the rest of his royal cousins glaring at him in contempt, or the fact that he’d just destroyed dishes dating back to before Luna’s banishment worth hundreds of thousands of bits. Oh, and made more work for the poor cleaning staff, as well. “And speaking of garbage…where is my wife’s meal? She’s getting really hungry!” This did indeed seem to be the case, as Crackle had stopped munching on the table and was now chewing on the tail of the Prince sitting next to her, much to his horror. “Right here, Your Majesty,” a pony wearing a hazmat suit replied, carrying a rather large, rather smelly trashcan in a pair of massive tongs. He dumped its contents in a rather large bowl that had been set several feet away from the table. With what might possibly be a squeal of delight, but could just as well have been gas, Crackle leaped at the bowl of garbage, splattering it all over the place as her immense body weight displaced it—thankfully, they’d figured out by now the safe distance to keep her meal away from the table so as not to get anyone messy or sick from the smell—and started rolling around in the filth, very little if any of it getting in her mouth. Maybe she was able to consume matter through osmosis. Nopony was sure, and nopony really cared to know. “Well, at least someone’s enjoying her meal,” Blueblood said with a sniff. “Anyway…Auntie Celestia, I regret to inform you that I will be unable to assist you in any matters of state today, for I have pressing business to attend to.” Celestia perked up at this. “That’s wonderf—er, I mean, I’m sorry to hear that, but I’m sure it must be important.” “It is,” Blueblood said gravely. “It is.” “And what, prithee, is this important business?” Luna asked suspiciously, while above her Discord removed his glasses and gave Blueblood an appraising look. Giving an extremely obvious and unsubtle wink and a nod to the chaos god, Blueblood turned to Twilight and asked, “Princess Twilight, would your friend and consort Rarity still happen to be in the castle?” Contrary to popular opinion, Blueblood did not, in fact, hate Twilight Sparkle or think her unsuited to be a Princess. He didn’t exactly like her, but he’d known her for a good chunk of his life, and while he had often been envious of how his Aunt doted on her, she seemed to make Princess Celestia happy for some reason, so he’d supposed she was okay. He also held a great deal of respect for her as a Unicorn of unrivaled magical power, the daughter of the Archmage and one of the greatest swordstallions in the history of the kingdom, and the heir to one of the oldest, strongest, and most respected noble houses in Canterlot, who had loyally served Princess Celestia even before her ascension to the throne and were said to have descended from Clover the Clever, one of the greatest sorceresses who had ever lived. She’d also saved the world a few times too or something. Blueblood certainly believed she had earned her newfound power and title…and if he was incredibly jealous that she had such power and immortality and wings while he did not, well, so was everyone else, so that didn’t make him any different in that regard. What he didn’t understand was why she not only associated with, but took to bed a bunch of bumpkins from some country town who’d probably never even heard of proper hygiene. He’d heard they only had one spa there. Only one! How could they live with themselves?! How could Twilight Sparkle enjoy spending so much time there, rather than staying in Canterlot, where civilized ponies lived? (He also didn’t understand why his Aunt had chosen those bumpkins to wield Elements of Harmony. Surely there were more worthy candidates for that great power? Like, say, himself? He was loyal to the Crown, always told the serfs how worthless they were so they couldn’t deceive themselves as to their value or place in the world, liked laughing at others’ misfortune, gave his servants a generous bonus of two bits at Hearth’s Warming and let them have the holidays off to be with their families so long as they worked off the time they’d taken off once they got back in unpaid overtime, and had graduated from Celestia's School from Gifted Unicorns...at the bottom of every class...and only made it through with some serious bribery from his parents and by sleeping with several of his professors and peers. He was plenty harmonious!) Regardless, he needed to speak with one of those bumpkins about something very important. Something that was a long time coming. Twilight shook her head. “No, Rarity had an important appointment back in Ponyville, so she had to rush off right after we got up this morning. She didn’t even have time to stay for breakfast, or a…well, morning quickie.” She blushed. “The others, on the other hand…” “Ah,” Blueblood said, somewhat disappointed. He’d thought something like this might happen, but he had hoped otherwise. “How…unfortunate. I suppose I shall have to go see her in…Ponyville, then,” he said, trying to hide the shudder of revulsion at the name of that dirty hick town. They probably used porcelain for their toilets! Assuming they had toilets and didn’t just do it outside where anyone could step on it, which wouldn’t surprise him in the slightest. “Why do you need to speak to Rarity?” Twilight asked warily, her protective instincts towards one of her best friends and sex slaves instantly kicking in. “I need to speak to her about an…important matter,” Blueblood said vaguely. Twilight’s face lit up. “Oh! Are you going to apologize to her for being so horrible to her at the Grand Galloping Gala, and pretty much every single other time you’ve been in the same room together?” “Wh-what?!” Blueblood asked in alarm. Princess Celestia gasped in delight. “Oh, Blueblood, that’s wonderful! I’m so proud of you!” “You are?” Blueblood asked in surprise, trying to recall the last time Princess Celestia had said those words to him. He could vaguely recall a macaroni picture that he’d made which she hung on a refrigerator…many, many years ago… “Yes! You’re finally willing to take responsibility for your actions, and-“ Celestia said excitedly. If Blueblood had been a smarter pony, he would have taken Celestia’s assumption and run with it. Blueblood was not a smart pony. “What?! But I didn’t do anything wrong to that peasant,” Blueblood protested in surprise. “I was treating her exactly as she deserved!” There was a long pause. “Oh,” Celestia said in disappointment, looking down at her plate. “I see.” Blueblood felt a pang of something deep in his chest. He was fairly certain it was hunger. There was a loud snapping noise. Blueblood turned to see that Twilight had broken her fork in half with her mind. And then the fork burst into flame. It sounded like it was screaming. “That peasant is one of my very best friends and loved ones,” she said so coldly ice started to form on the floor and table around her. “And technically outranks you, as a Bearer of an Element of Harmony and consort of a living goddess. So I would say she deserves a lot more respect than you have given her, even if she’s not from a noble family.” (Twilight was unaware of Rarity’s genealogy. That was something Celestia intended to spring on her, as well as the rest of her friends’ lineages, at a later date.) “…Yyyyyes. Well. Be that as it may,” Blueblood said uneasily, suddenly remembering that Twilight could probably do something so horrible to him that his descendants (His hypothetical descendants. Blueblood was sterile ever since a visit to a magical power plant a few years ago where a reactor leak had given him radiation poisoning. By an astonishing coincidence, the plant manager happened to be one of his ex-girlfriends, and had received a rather sizable grant from the government after the incident that seemed rather exorbitant for fixing a simple reactor leak.) would feel his agony for generations to come. “I do need to see her about an important matter. And, er…perhaps…just maybe…an apology for things I may or may not have said that could, possibly, be misinterpreted as wrongful insults might, hypothetically, come up?” Twilight’s glare did not ebb in the slightest. Blueblood swallowed and tried very hard not to void his bowels. Crackle had no such problem, but she had an incontinence issue, and wasn’t paying attention, so it wasn’t much of a surprise. “So,” Princess Luna asked evenly. “I ask again. What, prithee, is this important business, nephew?” “Ah,” Blueblood said. “You see…that is…I need to…ah…” He paused, squinting at something above Luna’s head. “Speak…to…her…a boat…” “A boat?” Celestia asked in confusion. “I wasn’t aware Rarity liked boats.” “She doesn’t,” Twilight said. “Unless they’re extremely glamorous cruise ships, of course.” “A boat? That doesn’t make any sense!” Blueblood said. He squinted harder. “No, wait, ‘about’…yes, that makes more sense…making…a…suit…for…Discord…” “What? No, you idiot! The suit is for you!” the chaos god hissed. “But that placard you’re holding says ‘for me,’” Blueblood said, looking perplexed. Everyone looked up and saw that Discord was, indeed, holding rather large placards with the words Blueblood had just incompetently stumbled through written on them. “Ahahahaha…now where did these come from?” he laughed nervously, quickly tossing the placards at Crackle, who promptly snatched them out of the air and ate them, destroying the evidence. Shooting Discord a suspicious look, Twilight turned to Blueblood and said, “Well, if it’s a suit you’re looking for, Rarity is definitely your mare, and I’m not just saying that out of favoritism due to her being one of my best friends and consorts and making all of my dresses for free.” “Yes!” Blueblood shouted like a drowning stallion clinging to a life preserver. “A suit. That is exactly what I am needing. Yes. For an…occasion.” “What occasion?” Luna asked dubiously. “Uh…” Blueblood looked up at Discord for help. The spirit shrugged. “Your…um…birthday?” Luna narrowed her eyes. “My birthday was last week.” “Never too early to prepare for the next one!” Blueblood said desperately. “I don’t think you actually attended my birthday,” Luna recalled. “In fact, I seem to recall you being found passed-out drunk in a-“ “Well, I should probably get going to Pony…place now to speak with Rarity!” Blueblood said loudly, standing up. “Time’s a wasting, and I need to get this done as soon as possible, so off I go!” “But you haven’t even touched your breakfast,” Twilight pointed out. “I’ll eat later! Off I go!” Blueblood shouted, quickly trotting for the exit. “Wait! Blueblood, I don’t suppose you could take Crackle with you? She’s been looking rather green lately, I think the country air might do her some good,” Celestia said. And all of us some good, to get her out of the castle for a few hours. Blueblood looked at his wife, who was currently covered in garbage and…what he dearly hoped was garbage, contemplated the idea of being stuck with her in a chariot for any length of time, and cringed. “I…don’t suppose she has time for a bath first?” “I thought time was a-wasting, Nephew,” Luna said with serene innocence. Blueblood sighed. “That I did, Auntie. That I did.” He whistled. “Come, Crackle.” The dragon perked up and ran straight towards him. And by ‘straight towards him,’ I mean she waddled in a chaotic zigzag, slamming into five pillars, bowling over some servants, knocking over an extremely ancient and priceless urn, ripping an even more ancient and priceless tapestry off the wall, and leaving a trail of dirty pawprints in her wake. Wincing at her odor and state of filth, Blueblood led his wife out of the room. “Couldn’t we have just cast a cleaning spell on her?” Twilight asked the elder Alicorns once Blueblood and Crackle were gone. “Yes,” Luna said smugly. “Yes, we could have.” Celestia sighed wearily. “I should never have let Crackle into the castle and told everyone she was a dragon princess as a prank. How was I to know that Blueblood would propose? And that she’d accept?” “Technically, she didn’t say ‘yes,’ she said, ‘ghhhhhhkkklgljhhhhgggqqqqqqqqqqrrrrrrrrrnnnnnnnn,’” Discord said helpfully. “Which isn’t technically a no, either. I think.” “Discord, are you plotting something with Blueblood?” Twilight asked suspiciously. “What? No! Don’t be preposterous, whatever gave you that idea?” Discord said, laughing nervously. “The big wink he gave you, the way you were feeding him lines, the way you seemed to be paying very close attention to what he was saying…” Celestia said with a frown. “Ah, yes, I can see why you’d think that,” Discord said. “Well, the truth of it is-“ He snapped his talons and vanished. Luna sighed. “I can’t say I’m not surprised he did that.” She took a sip of her coffee. “There’s toast on your nose,” Celestia observed. Luna paused, eyes crossing as she tried to make out the bread lying on her snout, butter splattering the top of her muzzle. “So there is,” she observed. “So there is.”