Promise bowed her head as she left the castle. The weight of what was about to happen had settled on her like a mountain, and she wasn't completely sure if she could shoulder this burden. Her hooves slowly led her home, and she was barely aware of walking into the door until she realized a voice was speaking to her.
"Hello? Promise? You awake in there? I asked you a question."
Promise looked up, and saw her mother standing in the hallway behind the front door, humor on her pale green face. Her blue mane was tousled and messy, indicating she had woken up just recently.
"Oh! Hello, mother. You're up early."
"Yes, I woke up and couldn't get back to sleep, so I thought I'd read a bit before fixing breakfast. Long day in the dungeons?"
Promise smiled as she walked past her mother and down the hall, into the small library, finding it lit with a single lantern. It was a long running joke that Promise's mother, Starlight, would tease her about her working conditions.
"I told you, I don't work in the dungeons. I work in the prison. It's not nearly as mouldy."
Promise's mother laughed lightly as she lay down on a thick cushion, cup of coffee steaming lightly beside an open book in front of her.
"Same thing, darling. I really wish they wouldn't give you such grim environments. It's bad for your health. Last thing we need is you going grey before I do."
"Oh, mother. We all know you dye your mane anyways."
Starlight gasped and feigned a pout, frowning at Promise.
"What has the world come to when a daughter says such things to her mother! I would never!"
"Then what are the bottles of dye under the sink in the bathroom for?"
"It's... Your father's."
"Dad has a red coat, and a brown mane. No green."
"Well, you know how he likes to paint."
"In the bath? With organic hair dye?"
Promise eyed her mother closely, and Starlight began to sputter another rebuttal before laughing.
"Okay, so you have me. I knew it was mistake, allowing you to study criminal psychology."
"And who would have thought I would have to use my craft against my own mother!"
Promise laughed with her mother as she settled down on her favorite cushion and pulled out her favorite book. Together, they read and chatted lightly until the sun rose, and Starlight went off to prepare breakfast. Before long, the whole house smelled of raisin toast, and Promise's stomache growled in protest of being teased. Promise set a bookmark to keep her place in the story and wandered into the kitchen. Her mother hummed and swayed to a tune Promise couldn't quite place, but found familiar. After a few minutes, Starlight spun around and gracefully dropped a plate piled high with toast onto the table. Promise went to grab a slice, but her hoof was gentle slapped away.
"Go get your brother, I'll go wake your father. Then we all eat."
Promise grudgingly lowered her hoof and followed her mother upstairs, turning to enter her brother's room. It was a mess, as always, and Promise stubbed her hoof against something hard and heavy. Whispering a swear, Promise rubbed her injured appendage and glared at the window, which normally lit the room with the glow of the rising sun. It was covered by a large tapestry, blocking the morning sun from entering the eastward facing window. Creeping to the bedside, Promise sat and listened carefully. After a moment, she heard both her parents talking quietly as they passed the room and went downstairs. She inhaled deeply.
"MOMMADETOASTWAKEUPWAKEUPWAKE UUUUUUUP!"
Promise beamed at the lump of blankets that hid her brother, and found it very unresponsive. Lifting a hoof, she poked the lump. It wriggled and grumbled. She poked it again and giggled.
"Get up, turd. There's food."
The lump sighed, and a small point of blue light appeared at one end, hovering off to light a lantern that sat on a nearby table. The wick sputtered before igniting, casting the room in a yellow glow that reminded Promise of the many rooms in the dungeons. Looking over, she saw that the tapestry was in fact a large white flag with a single vivid blue stripe. A music note hung in the center, and Promise was vaguely reminded of a musician on Canterlot, some unicorn DJ.
"Hey, you know the eighth notes on your flag are backwards, right?"
"That's the way her cutie mark is."
Turning back to the lump, she found her brother slightly more visible now the lamp was lit. At first, only single tuft of red mane jutted out from under the blankets, which stirred and revealed a grey unicorn colt, barely out of adolescence. Satisfied with her brother's waking, Promise walked over to the covered window.
"When did you hang this up, anyway? Your room is so gloomy now."
"A while ago. I bought it at Vinyl's concert, maybe a month before the coup. Don't touch it, it's autographed by her and Octavia."
Promise gasped as she recognized the name, the cutie mark flag, and the tune her mother had been humming in the kitchen.
“Oh! Crimerian Overture, that’s Octavia, right?”
“Well, she’s part of the orchestra that performed it, yes.”
Promise leaned in to read the two sets of scribbles along the bottom edge of the flag. The marker had obviously been well used as parts were faint, but the words were still legible.
‘Dearest Dawn Streak, we thank you for enjoying our music. - Octavia
Dude, you rock! - DJ PON3’
Promise giggled at the thought of a DJ and a classically trained cellist performing on the same stage at the same time. The idea of a light string melody laid over a driving beat sounded fantastic in her head. She made a mental note to check out the music when... she had the chance. Shaking her head, she walked out of the room, returning to the kitchen. Her father was already sitting at the table, chewing on the toast Promise so craved. His shaggy mane fell over his face, as it tended to when he was just waking. His eyes were hollow, but the cup of coffee seemed to be helping. He barely glanced at Promise as she sat opposite him and her mother and grabbed a slice of toast. A moment later, Dawn entered the room and half sat, half fell onto the seat beside Promise, swiping a piece of toast and shoving most of it into his mouth.
The room was silent except for the sounds of chewing for several moments. Promise chose this time to organize her thoughts and then words. Careful words. Precise words.
“Hey. I think we should have a family day. Picnic in the park, go for lunch, something of that nature. Provided, that, you know, stuff is still there and wasn’t set on fire or looted.”
A few moments of silence were all the greeted her words at first. Swallowing a bite of toast, Promise’s father spoke up.
“I concur, provided the city is safe.”
“Oh, Glory, you know it is! There’s guards everywhere. Frankly, I like being able to look out the window and see them, patrolling or just standing there, every time of day or night. I might not approve of politicians, but the ones now in power do at least seem concerned with keeping order.”
Promise had to resist the urge to slam her head against the table at her mother’s naivety.
“Mom, how much have you been around the city since the takeover?”
“Oh, you know. About as much as before.”
Promise toned her reaction down to just taking a bite of toast. Her mother only really left the house to go get foodstuffs or the very occasional clothes spree.
“So, translation, not hardly at all?”
“I’ve gone to the shop on the corner three times. Other than that I stay here.”
Promise wasn’t very surprised at her mother’s deadpan rebuttal. Everypony had their own coping mechanisms in difficult times. Starlight’s was locking herself in the library to read. Promise saw no need to mention that parts of the city had been burned nearly to the ground, or that on the inside perimeter of the wall were dead things that suddenly weren’t completely dead when one got too close. A thick string of guards had been posted to make sure no civilians got into the area, but Promise had heard stories.
Shaking her head, Promise thought quickly.
“Okay, so, right now I’m going to go brush my mane, then I’ll go out and look around and find something nice that’s still open. I’ll come back with some options before lunch. Sound good?”
Dawn yawned and shoved the remainder of his toast into his mouth.
“Sounds good. I’ll be in bed.”
Starlight and Morning Glory both looked like they were about to say something, but thought otherwise. Turning back to Promise, Starlight smiled.
“I’ll be in the library. Be careful.”
Promise’s father simply shrugged and picked up another piece of toast and a newspaper.
“Careful out there.”
“I will.”
Promise turned to go to her bedroom, but only made it halfway across the room. Her eyes tracked over the newspaper twice before she realized what stopped her. The newspaper was dated three weeks prior.
“Newspapers not running again yet?”
Glory shrugged again, his favorite response to any question.
“They are, but full of propaganda. I’m doing the crossword.”
Promise had to laugh. Her father, one of the most stable and unshakable of ponies. It would take more than a fierce coup of an ancient country capital to break him. Her laughter followed her into her bedroom, where she retrieved the brush from it’s baffling hiding place under the bed. She turned to the mirror and began the tedious process of making herself presentable. She couldn’t explain why, but she wanted to spend the next two days with a pretty face.