September 15, 1000 ANM
As of six hours ago I have found myself in a peculiar quandary. I was strolling about the palace in my usual regal manner, wondering what uses I could put to the last of the Nitroglycercute. It has been an amusing yet admittedly dangerous pastime to smear it against every surface that can afford to be destroyed. Perhaps I shall save it for an emergency? I am certain that there is no situation that cannot be rectified with the liberal application of explosive substances. Sister Dearest may say otherwise, but there are points at which subtlety must be abandoned with the utmost speed.
What was I writing of? Yes, the quandary. It began as I was considering the Nitroglycercute problem, at which point I took a wrong turn and found myself in an extraordinarily clean hall. The floor was polished, the carpet fluffed, the portraits scrubbed, the windows glinting clearly. Yet in complete contrast there stood buckets of soapy water scattered here and there, with their monotony broken by exhausted mops protruding from their bubble-strewn depths. My astonishment was almost as palpable as the stench of cleaning fluid that permeated the air. Previous excursions through the palace had yielded satisfactory but unremarkable levels of cleanliness, with no evidence of the instruments which bring about this change. What could have wrought this sudden change?
A tinkling of crystal directed me to my answer. At the center of the hall wobbled a ladder that stretched clear to the ceiling arching high above, and upon that point a pony balanced delicately as she tended to an impressive chandelier. I approached with hesitance, surprised and puzzled at the mystery. Are the servants no longer required to be invisible in their helpful pursuits? I had seen some over the previous weeks, certainly, but their numbers were easily drowned by the flocks of courtiers and commoners vying for the attention of Sister Dearest.
“Pardon me, peasant,” I called, taking care not to startle her into parting with her precarious perch. “It appears that you have made an utter mess with your implements of the sanitary. Could you perchance enlighten me regarding the nature of this paradox?”
I watched as the reddish-pink pony peered down at me, and the angle of her head revealed a horn that protruded from her brown locks. “Good morning, your majesty,” she replied in an easy, sleepy manner I did not much like. “Well, it might be hard to tell at the moment from way down there, but I guess I could tell you that I’m cleaning this chandelier.”
“I am thrilled to have gotten that parcel of information cleared up,” I said wryly. “But what is the purpose of these pails? Is it truly wise to have all of this lying about where somepony could easily stumble upon them? Surely it is not part of the standard to which the palace is raised.”
“Sure, your majesty,” she drawled. “You see, usually I get areas like this done within ten minutes, but the usual time couldn’t cut it today because I saw the ceiling and I thought, ‘Gee, if I were the ceiling, I sure would like to be clean.’ So here I am.”
“I can assure you the ceiling does not much care one way or the other. What is your name, peasant?”
“I’m Micah,” was her response, “Micah Jayfill. And you’re Princess Luna. Have I ever told you I like your stars? Because I do, they’re pretty nifty. Sometimes I wonder what they are.”
“I am pleased to hear such news. Thank you, Micah Jayfill.” Yet my eyes narrowed in thin suspicion. “I trust you are not related to a pony called Moonshadow?”
She scratched her head, which temporarily forced her to stand on the top rung with merely her hindlegs. “Moonshadow? Isn’t he the guy from, uh, We Three Queens?”
“Pray explain yourself, peasant.”
“Oh, that’s right. Well, you see, not too long ago movies were invented. They’re like pictures, except they move and sometimes you can get really involved in deep and meaningful storylines. Other times you just get kind of annoyed because you can see the strings, and the actors don’t even know what’s going on.”
I frowned. “I have never heard of these ‘movies’ … what an uncouth name for them. Is there no alternative?”
“They’re also called films.”
“Now that name I much prefer. At some point you shall have to inform me more about these films, Micah Jayfill, lest I fail to discover their nature on my own. In the meantime I shall leave you to your business. Fare thee well.” And with that, I turned to leave.
“Okay! Well, uh, let me know if you ever want me to clean your room or your cave or something.”
“Thank you, I will. Have an excellent day—”
I blinked. Her words, which had not quite registered straightaway, helpfully swerved back around and lodged themselves in my keen brain. My ears pinned back, I looked up again at the peculiar unicorn, who was once again busying herself with the chandelier. How could this be possible? I had taken the utmost care with secrecy, and yet this upstart could so casually toss about such information like breadcrumbs?
“Pardon me,” I said carefully, “but what did you say?”
“Hm?” She peered down again, and I feared loved for her life as the ladder wobbled slightly. “If you want me to clean your room, I said.”
“No, not the room, the cave.”
“Sounds good. Do you have any time you’d prefer the job for?”
“No. No. How do you know of the Bat Cave’s existence?”
“Oh, that. I just kinda noticed it was there; it’s not exactly hard to figure out where secret rooms and compartments are if you’re cleaning up the place. Why, is it supposed to be a secret?”
“Yes,” I said bluntly. “It is … a surprise.”
She rubbed her chin, then shrugged. “That’s fair enough. All right, my lips are sealed.”
What am I supposed to do? She may or may not be honest, but in either case the common pony is prone to mistakes. I cannot afford to have a security risk wandering about the palace. Suppose Sister Dearest discovered my clandestine plans? No, Micah Jayfill must be dealt with, one way or another.
It may help to consult Blueblood about the matter. For unfathomable reasons he has made enemies amongst the ponies, yet his reputation is untarnished. He surely knows how to deal with difficulties such as this. Yes, on the morrow I shall ask him for advice. In the meantime I should mull over the issue further, in case there is some detail that escapes me. Not in a thousand years have I been required to deal with this type of problem, and it requires careful thought and attention.
This is one of the few drawbacks to being an empress. I will have to make difficult decisions that will ultimately please nopony. On the other hoof, it also allows me to make easy decisions, so everything balances out. I shall take it like a mare and press on!