- - -
(3)
- - -
Sugarcube Corner.
Despite the gingerbread-imitation exterior, it was a fairly common pastry shop. Then again, compared to spending one drunken night at a seedy Trottin' Donuts Shop it was fairly high class. Princess Celestia herself had also graced it with her presence once before, making it effectively haute couture. The sad and pathetic truth was that Celestia could visit a country outhouse and the nobles would quickly call it a "Petite Trianon" and squabble over the right to visit.
More importantly, Sugarcube Corner was also the residence and working place of the cake launching, party-crazy stage-diver at the Gala. One 'Pinkamena Diane Pie.' She was the next stop after Rarity's, and he expected it to take a few more loops to work out how to handle her. The important thing was to test the waters due to its proximity to the Carousel Boutique. On his final run, he needed to conserve as much time between stops as possible.
It was still early morning, and the pastry shop was having the normal business rush that such places enjoyed as ponies tried to use sugar and caffeine to prepare for their day. Blueblood quickly undid his tie and loosened his collar. It wouldn't do to appear too stuffy with this one. A part of him was always a little nervous coming to places like this: he didn't handle hyperactivity well, and the Element of Laughter was... a tad unstable and unpredictable. Even for him.
Hushed whispers preceded his entering the store.
"Welcome to Sugarcube Corner," a motherly looking earth pony in pastel colors began to say, only to have her eyes widen in recognition. "Prince... B –"
"Sorry to skip ahead, but I need to borrow Miss Pinkamena for a minute or two." Of course, it was rude to not order something. "When you can, I'll also have a cupcake with almonds... and add a whole strawberry on top, cut lengthways, not whole, if you would?"
Not that it was easy to see all the sweets in such a store, and not be reminded of that disgraceful binge he had gone through... how many loops ago? Two hundred maybe? Auntie Luna had been right. So very right.
Now, all he had to do was –
"Hi!"
Halfway into sitting at one of the indoor tables, Blueblood nearly jumped out of his skin. Impossibly, some pony was actually staring at him, upside down. Was she perched on his head? It didn't feel like it. Was she hanging from the ceiling like one of Luna's bats? He never got to see how the mare pulled the trick off, because a second later she was seated opposite him, her hooves placed innocently on the table.
This was the pink terror of the Gala.
She seemed harmless enough. Earth pony. Bright pink coat and darker pink mane. Aqua blue eyes, about the same color as his own. At least she was sitting still and not bouncing around. Balloons for a cutie mark. Which explained a few things.
"You must be Miss Pinkamena," he stated, and held out his hoof. "The Element of Laughter."
She giggled and shook his hoof with both of her own. Her mouth also started to work at high speed: "Wow-wee! You know about that? You must be a pretty smart pony! But I guess you are from Canterlot, just like Twilight, and Twilight's the smartest pony I know! Everypony is saying you're a Prince, but you don't have any wings, just a horn, so how can you be a Prince? Oh! Or is it just a name, like the Fresh Prince, or the Artist formerly known as Prince? Are you an artist?"
"Actually –"
"But then again, if you were a Prince, then I guess it makes sense that you'd know ALL about the Elements of Harmony! Because you're like the Princess's brother, or maybe her nephew, or her illegit –"
"Don't," he spoke up, cutting the motor-mouth off. "I'm her nephew. I don't have wings because I'm just a unicorn. How did you know I was from Canterlot?"
Pinkie tilted her head in bubbly confusion. "Where else would a Prince be from, silly?"
"...I suppose."
"So what'd you want to see me for?" the bundle of energy asked. "Oh! One second!" She literally bounced away, out of sight, and then came back from the other side, this time balancing a platter on the tip of her nose. On it were two cupcakes of the sort he had just ordered.
"I only ordered one..." he began to protest.
"Everyone gets one free the first time they visit!" Pinkie assured him, putting the plate down on the table. "Okie dokie! Ready to listen now!"
"Yes. To the point," Blueblood agreed. "I'm here because of the Gala."
"OooOOooh." Pinkie's blue eyes began super wide and she smiled. "Are you asking me to the Gala?"
"I – eh – what?" He coughed. "What? You didn't ask that last time!"
"I didn't? Heeeey!" She peered at him closely. "What do you mean 'last time?'"
Blueblood growled in frustration. This wasn't working right at all.
"I'm repeating the same day over and over," he growled. "The last time I talked to you, you said something different."
Pinkie Pie crossed her front legs and nodded. "That sounds like me, alright!"
He just facehoofed.
- - -
"So what'd you want to see me for?" the bundle of energy asked. "Oh! One second!" She literally bounced away, out of sight, and then came back from the other side, this time balancing a platter on the tip of her nose. On it were two cupcakes of the sort he had just ordered.
"I only ordered one."
"Everyone gets one free the first time they visit!" Pinkie assured him, putting the plate down on the table. "Okie dokie! Ready to listen now!"
"Yes. To the point," he agreed. "I'm here because of the Gala."
" OooOOooh." Pinkie's blue eyes began super wide and she smiled. "Is there something wrong with the Gala?"
"Again with this..." he muttered. The question worked, though. "Yes, as a matter of fact there is."
"It's a balloon shortage, isn't it?" Pinkie slammed a hoof on the table, leaning forward to whisper. "Of all the times to suffer from a rubber embargo!"
"Ah. No." He carefully pushed her back into her seat. "Let me explain."
Pinkie cocked her head again, listening.
"I've heard from... Twilight... that you're Ponyville's most well known and well respected party planner." Kind of a lie, but whatever. He then asked, "This is correct, isn't it?"
"Yep!" Pinkie enthusiastically replied. "That's me! Ponyville's number one party pony!"
"You must be very excited about going to the Gala then?"
"I'm super duper excited! After I finished work, I was going to bounce on my new trampoline to work off some of my bouncy-energy! Have you ever had that feeling when you just need to go way up and then way down and then way up and then way down again? Because I get that ALL THE TIME. The trampoline helps, but sometimes it makes it even worse. Bouncing higher and higher and higher usually works, though! Did you know I've heard that there are entire castles designed for bouncing? Bouncy Castles they're called! Hey! Do you have any of those in Canterlot? Can you get one for the Gala!?"
"I'll take all that to mean: yes, I am excited about going to the Gala."
"Pretty excited," Pinkie clarified.
He nodded. That much was obvious. "I take it you haven't been to a Gala before, Miss Pinkamena?"
"Ummm. Nope!" She shook her head and her curly mane bounced while her body couldn't. "And you can call me Pinkie Pie!"
"Let me be frank with you..."
"Frank? I thought your name was Blueblood?"
"I trotted right into that one. Again. Let me be candid then."
Pinkie stared at him evenly. "...Candid isn't a name!"
He coughed, cleared his thoughts and continued: "A Gala is a very specific sort of party. A very formal party."
This – the mention of parties – got Pinkie's attention and held it.
"Go on," she prompted.
"Have you been to any weddings before?" Blueblood asked, taking a moment to bite into the cupcake. It was low class food, but it was really quite good in a jejune sort of way. Sadly, the last year or so had turned him into a somewhat pedestrian pony when it came to his vices.
"Sure I have!" Pinkie held out her hoof and started counting on non-existent digits. "I went to my sister Inky's wedding, and Ditzy Doo's, and Carrot Top's!"
"And what was your sister's wedding like?"
Pinkie thought back to that day, her lower lip sticking out in an exaggerated and adorable pout.
"Well... Daddy had all the family get together and we waited by this pretty blue river. And I had to be quiet and wear a boring old dress because I was a maid or something. And then Inky and Tanny said their vows." Pinkie smiled as she breezed past what was the boring part in her recollection. "And then they had a big kiss and they were married! And then we all went to this big tent and ate and danced and had tons of fun!"
"Did your father ever dance with your sister?" he asked, leadingly. "Before giving her to her new husband?"
"Yep!" Pinkie confirmed, nodding so vigorously her mane bounced.
"What kind of dance was it? Do you remember the music?"
Pinkie nodded again. "I remember alright! It was... um... a slow kinda music. All the married ponies were out dancing. And... I guess some who weren't married yet, too." She held up her hooves, and mimicked putting them on his shoulders. "They stood up and leaned on each other, and slowly moved around in circles."
"That," he stressed, lowering her hooves down to the table again, "is the kind of music that is played at the Gala. It is also the kind of dancing at the Gala."
Pinkie seemed to need a few seconds to process that news.
"But," she protested, "but that's so boring..."
"Don't worry," he quickly assured her. "There is a more lively formalized dance, called the Marché."
"Mar-chae?" The pink pony didn't sound convinced.
"Marché," he repeated. "Coincidentally, I happen to have brought a book on it, with some of the simpler moves highlighted, and I can show you how to start. You'll be enjoying the Gala – properly – in no time. Doesn't that sound fun?"
Pinkie Pie wasn't quite frowning, but she was looking somewhat distraught. Her puffy mane even began to droop a little. The gears turned and a serious look crossed her face as she thought back to her sister's wedding, replaying that one part in particular over and over. Back then, when all the other pony couples had danced, she had had to wait and watch from her table. Even Blinky had danced after finding a colt who was a friend of the groom.
"Every party is a little different, after all," Blueblood reminded her. "How do you know you won't enjoy it if you don't give it a try?"
That seemed to do the trick.
"You're right," Pinkie said, to him and to herself. "You're right! If the Gala was the same as any old party, then it wouldn't be so special, now would it? I'll definitely learn how to dance and how to party, Gala-style!"
"Thank Celestia!" Blueblood breathed a sigh of relief... and then patted her hoof again. "I mean, thank goodness. I didn't... bring that book... for nothing?"
She met his shifty eyes with her own. For a moment or two, he even got the impression that she sensed something was amiss. Blueblood put on his most charming and suave grin to disarm her suspicion. It usually worked wonders on mares, but with this one, the odds were about fifty-fifty. One of her ears twitched.
"Okie dokie lokie." Then, abruptly, she was all smiles and bubbles and balloons again. "And I can teach you how to do the pony polka!"
"...Ah. Wonderful..."
- - -
Blueblood spent much of that loop getting a feel for how quickly he could pass on the formal dancing techniques of the court to Ponyville's resident candy-consuming party loon. He also spent about the same amount of time in the next loop doing the same. By the third iteration, however, he had learned just how to most efficiently make progress on that front.
He brought a record of a typical Marché dance piece, Dance of Sagittarius in D minor, and had her practice. Despite appearing to have the attention span of a hyperactive filly, she was actually very astute when she put her mind to things. The only real annoyance was her unpredictability. No other pony he had ever encountered, in hundreds of Gala loops, was still so able to surprise him. It was strange, but manageable.
Pinkamena picked up Marché quite readily, once she had spent an hour or so listening to the music, understanding the thematic beats that determined the required steps, and after seeing him set an example. It was really quite elementary in principle: most Equestrians couldn't stand on two legs for very long. Miss Pie being an apparent exception. Due to this physical limitation, unless a pair of ponies supported one another, most dances longer than a minute or so had to be done on all fours. Marché was all about movements in synch with one's partner: left, right, back, forward, pirouette left, pirouette right, slide and reverse.
In the process, he had also learned more than he'd ever feared about common music.
No matter: the party prodigy would be ready.
- - -
Generosity – check.
Laughter – check.
Blueblood considered the latter the most challenging of the six, and it was a relief to have it finally sorted out. He'd refined that part of the plan down to two and a half hours spent in Ponyville. A little over his most idealistic projections, but well below what he had feared. The next major obstacle was to be found outside town. Past the rough roads of Ponyville, and into the countryside.
He raised an eyebrow at the dirt on his hooves.
Ugh.
Not that he hadn't been through worse. Those loops where he had killed himself in a variety of ways had left a no less pleasant impression. That one time he had jumped in front of a train must have made quite the mess, to say nothing of his swan dive off Canterlot's highest spire. It wasn't really the dirt that bothered him. It was just symptomatic of the problem ahead.
Sweet Apple Acres.
It was larger than he had expected. Land was at a premium in Canterlot, and as part of his Royal Office, Blueblood had overseen the distribution and zoning of thousands of square miles. He knew a large and expensive piece of land when he saw one, on a map or on the ground. Sweet Apple Acres was just such. He had looked up the actual size long before coming, and checked the legal limits of the family's acreage. They actually owned farmland right up to the border of Everfree itself.
Gutsy.
He would've walled off his property from that savage nightmare forest.
Once again, the change of targets necessitated a quick change in clothes; fortunately he was a unicorn. Stowing both the dress shirt and the formal wear, he instead wore a coat, shirt and brown gloves. He had no intention, under any circumstances, of not at least looking passably dressed, regardless of where his new outlook on life took him. At the same time, it didn't take an RAAS valedictorian to realize that showing up at this farm in courtly clothes would hurt his cause.
Before he could approach the farmhouse that dominated the property, he passed under an iron gate with no doors: probably intending to both state that the land one was entering was welcoming, but quite strictly owned and managed. It reminded him a bit of the arches in the Palace Garden. He half expected there to be more workers, or even a contracted guard or two. Instead, as he passed by rows of apple trees, he met not a pony.
Not until he encountered a red-coated fellow in the middle of the path.
"Howdy." The farmpony spoke with that clear, rustic accent. "Can I help ya with anythin'?"
"You may," Blueblood replied, raising a gloved hoof in greeting. "I am Prince Blueblood. I have come to speak with Miss Applejack."
The red workhorse chewed on a stalk of straw.
"Yer the Prince?" he finally asked, skeptically.
"Quite," Blueblood huffed. "I suppose I'll be more persuasive next time."
- - -
"Howdy." The farmpony spoke with that clear, rustic accent. "Can I help ya with anythin'?"
"You may," Blueblood replied, raising a gloved hoof in greeting. Next to him, one of the Royal guard pegasi stared forward with professional indifference. "I am Prince Blueblood. I have come to speak with Miss Applejack."
The red workhorse chewed on a stalk of straw.
"Yer the Prince?" he finally asked, skeptically.
"Again with this?" Blueblood asked, expression slipping for a second. "I am a Prince of Equestria, yes. This is about the Gala tonight."
The apple farmer rolled the stalk between his teeth. This 'Macintosh' was a big lug; a tad larger than Blueblood himself, and the size of a full fledged Royal Guard. They clearly bred them like bulls out here.
"I'll get her," he finally said, and headed to the house.
His initial impression of the Element of Honesty, upon first seeing her, was that she was in need of some serious polish. Hell's bells, she was about the opposite of every mare he had ever encountered in Canterlot. Applejack was fit and strong, but not in the manufactured way that came from spending time at a gym or with – in his case – a personal trainer. It may just have been near-legendary earth pony vitality at work coloring his impression – they did say, once you went earth pony, you never went back – but she was just such a raw specimen. Sandy and Light Touch would have had a field day getting this mare ready for the Gala.
Still, she was pretty in a rugged country way. Green eyes, golden mane, straw coat. Good coloration. The ponytails, though, were just so... utilitarian! Luckily, he already knew beforehand that she knew well enough to adjust her attire for the Gala. Or perhaps one of the others had insisted? It was auspicious for him; all he had to do was convince her to make some changes to what she brought to sell at the Gala.
"Well, howdy!" Applejack tipped her hat just a bit, and too-readily shook his hoof. "Ain't this a surprise; what's a Canterlot noble like yerself doin' way out here?"
Her brother picked that moment to lean over and whisper something in her ear.
"He is?" she asked the big red pony, and blinked, giving Blueblood another more cautious look. "This ain't about the border, is it?"
"The border?" the Prince asked, a little thrown by the question. "Why... would you assume that?"
"Y'all are the head of the Royal surveyin' and map makin' office, ain't ya?" Applejack pointedly inquired. "Don't tell me we're losing another couple'a acres ta Everfree!"
Blueblood's mind raced, and he did recall something about that.
"Oh," he realized, a gloved hoof hiding his eyes. "That was... oh sweet Celestia, of course this would be that farm next to the forest..."
"That's right. 'Bout five years ago, one'a yer colts came by and told us he was extendin' the border of the forest!" Applejack stamped an indignant hoof on the wooden floor. "We lost a whole crop'a our best apple trees. That whole place is just a mess o' shrubs now, just one big sump, and we can't do nothin' about it."
This was not where he wanted the conversation to go today.
"You have my apologies for that." He tried to be diplomatic. "But I don't make a habit of questioning our surveyors. As I recall, the border needed to be straightened out. Your property just happened to be in the way. You must have been compensated..."
"Yer surveyor gave us a hundred bits per acre lost. My grandpappy paid twice that for it a hundred years ago! Apple Acres isn't the only family that's been given the shaft neither!" Applejack, now set on her tirade, didn't even seem inclined to let him inside the house.
"I'm sure there's a very good reason..."
"Didn't y'all actually read any o' tha complaints we been sendin' ya?" The Element of Harmony advanced on his noble self, glaring at him eye to eye. "What brought ya out here, anyway?"
"Um... the... Gala?"
- - -
It seemed like it had been a while since he returned to his study.
Blueblood ground his teeth together in frustration, digging out the Everfree maps. He was Grand Veneur, which meant he decided the protected status of Equestria's wildlands. Some of these were areas set aside for natural beautification, some were national parkland, and others were pure wild lands like Everfree. Technically, they were all game preserves under the ownership of the Crown. Sometimes the borders of these lands were extended, other times they were contracted, depending on the needs of the country, local communities, and the financial state of the department.
One would think it a prestigious office, but really Blueblood didn't do very much. He had final say on work others did, and that was really it. A hundred other ponies actually went out and did the survey work, compiled their results, sent them through a committee, and then he rubber stamped their decisions. If he was lucky, then groups or individuals would approach him to have the Office of the Veneur fund expeditions to exotic lands, but that sort of thing was few and far between.
It didn't take too long to bring up the current Everfree Map, and ones from previous surveys.
There wasn't much any difference between the borders twenty years ago and ten years ago. There was an allotted expansion away from inhabited areas eight years ago – a patch job to connect some wild areas that had been isolated by an earlier fire. Then, five years ago, the Everfree began expanding again, this time into Ponyville. Nowhere else. Just the countryside around Ponyville.
The survey noted that the growths required an adjustment of the border, and the recommended extension of the forest into one set of farmland and then another. It was never very substantial. Last year, though, it had cumulatively justified a redaction of the border elsewhere, the new land being allotted to one of Hoofington's Agricultural Companies. That was a tad suspicious.
Rather more suspicious was that the same surveyor was responsible for every expansion around Ponyville. Other surveyors sent never recommended a change in the border. Not once.
"This is just wonderful." Blueblood sat back in his study, and sent a servant to retrieve one of his aides.
Right Angle was a studious unicorn, and unlike Blueblood, a natural hard worker. The mousy orange mare quickly answered her employer's summons, arriving with the requested records in her saddlebags. He didn't even need to go through them himself. Right Angle had done so on her way over.
Blueblood held up one of the letters Applejack had mentioned yesterday. It was an independent survey conducted by a private company, placing the value of the land at more than twice what Apple Acres had been compensated for. The letter had been marked as CONSIDERED and then filed away to collect dust. It wasn't the only one either.
He would have thrown a fit... if not for the fact that he'd be doing this exact same thing tomorrow.
And probably every following day, at this rate.
"Right Angle," he said. "Take a note."
- - -
"Howdy." Big Mac spoke with that clear, rustic accent. "Can I help ya with anythin'?"
"You may," Blueblood replied, raising a gloved hoof in greeting. Next to him, one of the Royal Guard pegasi stared forward with professional indifference. "My name is Prince Blueblood, of the Office of the Grand Veneur. I'd like to talk to the head of Sweet Apple Acres, if you please."
The red workhorse chewed on a stalk of straw.
"Eyup." The farmpony was all business. "This way."
Once again, Prince Blueblood found himself before the Apple Family farmhouse. Once again, he waited patiently as Big Mac entered and called out for the younger mare who ran the business. Quite literally. The deed and title had passed onto her at her age of maturity. Blueblood was himself a little perplexed by this. As eldest, the title should normally have gone to Mister Macintosh as the family's first born. In Equestria, this was historically the right of female primogeniture, but there was nothing barring a first born male from inheriting these days, even among the most old fashioned of aristocratic houses.
It was also... somewhat impressive that this young mare had run a business from such a young age.
There she was – entering from around a corner. Like before, her brother pulled her aside to whisper something. Blueblood had a good idea what they were talking about this time.
"Well, howdy," Applejack said and politely tipped her hat just a bit. She was a little more hesitant when it came to shaking his hoof. Things were turning out a little differently in this loop.
"Ain't this a surprise," she told him, her tone betraying growing suspicion. "What's a Canterlot bigwig like yerself doin' way out here? What's this about the borders now?"
"After a recent internal audit, the Office of the Veneur has determined that one of our surveyors has conducted his duties improperly and in violation of our code of ethics. We –" Blueblood motioned back to his guard. “– are making a quick trip to some of the families that have been victimized to... apologize. You have my personal word that we will compensate you properly for the lands lost."
"Well!" Applejack smiled, glancing back at her brother. She dipped her hat again to conceal her grin, trying to act equally professional but still hospitable. "Ain't that something? Sure took you folks long enough!"
"It only came to my attention recently," Blueblood admitted. "But it has prompted me to take a more careful look at the activities of my subordinates."
"Shame we won't be gettin' the acres back."
"I'm afraid that can't be arranged at the moment. Everfree has an allotted absolute acreage that must be maintained at all times in order to support the ecosystem."
"Wouldn't matter too much anyway at this point," Applejack replied, and stepped aside. "I know ya must be right busy, if yer gonna be meetin' with other families 'round here, but it's the least I can do ta invite ya inside for a drink and a bite ta eat."
"Thank you very much, Miss Applejack."
Yes! He was inside!
So far so good!
"Uhm, is he...?" Applejack noticed the Guard had turned around to stand next to the door instead of coming inside the farmhouse.
"You mean Mercury? Don't take it as an insult," Blueblood assured her. "Duty and 'ever watchful' and all that."
"Ah suppose." Applejack quickly moved on, and led him to a simple sitting room. Blueblood sat, paying only marginal attention to his surroundings. He had prepared for this. It was time to make good on things. Dealing with this apple farmer was far more troublesome than he had first thought.
He did notice, however, another member of the Apple clan: a little filly, about the same age as Rarity's sister. The filly's hair was a bright, deep crimson. Apple-colored, he supposed. And why wasn't that a surprise?
"Howdy," the little filly greeted him with a friendly smile.
"Hello," he studiously replied, giving the tyke no further attention. "Just a coffee is fine, Miss Applejack," he raised his voice a bit to make sure she heard him. "I was also hoping to speak with you about the Gala this evening."
"The Gala?" the Element of Honesty asked. "Well, alright. Just gimme a minute here."
"Very well, we –" Blueblood paused, raising his front leg as he noticed the little gold and red filly poking around his side, rudely pushing aside his coat to reveal his cutie mark. “– what are you doing?"
"That's a weird cutie mark." She poked one of the golden spokes of his compass rose with her hoof, and then one of the silver points. "Is it a star, like Twilight's?"
"Apple Bloom," Big Mac chided her from where he stood close by.
"It is a compass rose," he informed her, only now realizing she was a blank flank herself. "Though in old times, it was also known as a Star of the Sea."
"So it ain't like a real star?" Apple Bloom backed away, letting his coat fall back over half of the mark on his flank. "What's it mean, then? How'd you get a star that ain't a star as yer cutie mark?"
"Bloom," Mac reproved her again, this time with a faint frown on his seemingly unflappable face. "Ya shouldn't go badgerin' guests about their cutie marks. You know that." He shifted the straw from one side of his mouth to the other, eyes falling on the Equestrian Prince. "Sorry 'bout that."
"No," Blueblood replied. "It's alright." He brushed back the coat again so the filly could see the whole mark. "The compass represents the cardinal points: north, east, south, west, and the degrees in-between."
"But what's it mean?" Apple Bloom pressed, pouting at having a technical explanation but no useful context. "How'd ya get it?"
"It means my special talent is in finding directions," he answered. Really, he wasn't sure what his cutie mark really represented. It was probably nothing more than an affinity for and skill with maps. "As for how I got it..."
The blank flank filly's eyes lit up at the promise of finding out a new way to get a cutie mark.
"I got a little lost one day," Blueblood told her.
Apple Bloom blinked a few times, expecting more.
"That's it," he finished.
"That can't be it!" she protested. "You got a cutie mark by gettin' lost?! Ah get lost all tha time and Ah never got a cutie mark from it!"
"I did find something while I was lost, but it wouldn't make much sense to you, I'm afraid," he explained, just as Applejack entered with a cup of coffee. It was black coffee, too, much stronger than he normally bothered with.
"Ah. Next time, I'll remember to ask for milk and crème..." He took the cup with a slight nod of thanks. "You do have milk and crème, don't you?"
"We're on a farm, sugar cube." Applejack sat opposite with her own cup. "We've got more milk and crème than you can shake a hoof at."
"Of course." He took a sip, and got down to business with the Apples. "Miss Applejack. The other matter I wanted to discuss with you..."
"About the Gala?"
"Yes."
"What about it?"
"It has come to my attention that you intend to use the occasion to sell some of your wares," he began.
"Who told ya that?" Applejack interrupted.
"One of..." He searched for a name. "Your friends?"
"Twilight?" Applejack helpfully provided the name of which of her comrades knew about her plan. "What's that girl doin' flappin' her gums about that?"
"Well," Blueblood continued, undeterred. "About your wares. As one of the nobility myself, I thought I could pass on some ideas on how to better present your... many apple dishes."
"Now just hold on a second!" Applejack put down her cup, objecting to his invitation. "Sweet Apple Acres down-home apples are plenty good for even the most picky high society types! You sayin' Ah won't be able to sell our delicious, hoof made fritters or our signature dumplings or our fresh-as-you-come caramel apples at this here hoity-toity get together?"
His eyebrow twitched in irritation.
"I'm sure your carnival fare goes off well here in Ponyville, but..." He sighed, just then realizing what he had blurted out. "Oh. Nuts."
- - -
"Ah. Extra milk and crème..." He took the cup with a slight nod of thanks. "Thank you."
"We're on a farm, sugar cube," Applejack sat opposite with her own cup. "Enjoy."
"Now, if I may." He took a sip, and got down to business with the Apples. "Miss Applejack. The Gala."
"What about it?"
"It has come to my attention that you intend to use the occasion to sell some of your wares," he began.
"Who told ya that?" Applejack interrupted.
"One of your friends."
"Twilight? What's that girl doin' flappin' her gums about that?"
"Well," Blueblood continued, coming again to the point of this whole endeavor. "About your wares. I believe I have a good idea of what sorts of... apple-tastic treats... you wish to sell at the Gala. Fritters and candy-coated apples and pies and fried dumplings and such?"
"Right on the money, there," Applejack confirmed. "We've got a load of Sweet Apple Acres' finest packed and ready for sale tonight. Gonna make a killing, who-nelly!"
Eyep. Sure you were.
"How much, exactly, do you expect to make?" he asked, setting down his cup and saucer.
The country mare nodded to herself as she crunched the numbers. "Well, sir, we got some repairs to do on the western barn, and of course Granny needs a new hip. She's upstairs sleepin' – poor gal. All in all, I was hopin' fer a hundred bits at least. Two hundred'd be real nice, but that's probably bein' optimistic."
Blueblood chuckled.
"Well," he enthusiastically announced. "That's hardly much at all! I could give you that right now!"
- - -
Okay. That hadn't worked.
Stubborn mare.
"...we've got a load of Sweet Apple Acres' finest packed and ready for sale tonight. Gonna make a killing, who-nelly!"
Indeed.
"How much, exactly, do you expect to make?" he asked, setting down his cup and saucer.
The country mare nodded to herself as she crunched the numbers. "Well, sir, we got some repairs to do on the western barn, and of course Granny needs a new hip. She's upstairs sleepin' – poor gal. All in all, I was hopin' fer a hundred bits at least. Two hundred'd be real nice, but that's probably bein' optimistic."
Blueblood took a calming, slow breath. In, and out.
"Miss Applejack," he said. "While I don't doubt your skills as a salesmare or the quality of your apples here, I would be remiss if I didn't let you know that apples are considered out of vogue among Canterlot nobility."
"Ah'll just have to bring them back into vogue then, Prince Blueblood." Applejack spoke with a little heat there. "Don't tell me yer one of those fancy types too good for a simple country apple?"
"Ah," he stumbled in his response for a second. "No. I have no problem with apples myself. In fact, I rather enjoy them from time to time."
"Really?" The country mare gave him a shrewd look. "What's yer favorite type'a apple then?"
"Calville Blanc d'hiver," Blueblood easily answered. "We have them imported from Prance."
The family was silent...
"Cheva-what now?" Apple Bloom wondered.
"Well, shoot!" Applejack appeared mollified by his response, tipping back her hat in a relaxed manner. The Equestrian Prince released a breath he'd been holding.
"Ah guess it makes sense a high class pony would be used ta high class apples," she reasoned, thinking aloud. "Calville Blanc, huh? You know, we've got some reeeal sweet Golden Delicious apples a field over. Same kinda taste n' texture. Granny used'ta make open faced tarts with 'em, and flan, too."
"Oh?" he inquired, genuinely curious now. "You don't make those anymore?"
"They didn't sell too well in town," Applejack explained with a casual shrug. "So we just switched ta selling 'em as a snack. They also don't keep too well."
"One must adapt to one's marketplace," he cautiously ventured, feeling a little give in the Element of Honesty.
"Eyup." It was Big Mac who spoke up then. "You suggestin' we make tarts for the Gala, then?"
"As I may have said before, carn –" He just caught himself. "Most apple dishes are simply not in style this year. If you wish to sell at the Gala, then you would be wise to either make something exotic or decadent... or better yet, both."
Brother and sister gave each other a quick look; a conversation in a glance.
"Boy howdy, you do sound like Rarity," Applejack replied with a laugh. "No wonder she was so ga-ga about meeting Princess Celestia's nephew."
Shifting uncomfortably, Blueblood covered his anxiety about that situation by taking another sip of country coffee. The milk and crème helped.
"I'll take that as a compliment," he finally said.
"Still," Applejack drawled. "It's too late to replace our stock for the Gala. It takes time to make these things, an' Granny Smith's the only one who knows how to make tarts. Ah can't recall much at all how she makes apple shortcrusts."
"Besides!" she exclaimed with a confident grin. "Once all those fancy ponies catch a whiff of our apple treats, their stomachs will do the rest!"
"Really," Blueblood drolly commented.
- - -
"...Equestria Girls, we're kinda magical!
Boots on hooves, bikinis on top!"
"APPLES." A hoof smashed the radio, and Blueblood surged out of bed.
- - -
Kicking open the door, he stomped past the table of pony notables, heading straight for the kitchen while cackling madly. Proper Place seemed on the verge of speaking up, but his mouth closed up as he realized Blueblood had zero intention of actually sitting at the table to share breakfast with the rest of the Royal household. Luna in particular seemed to be watching the strange spectacle with wide, green eyes.
"Nephew," Celestia spoke up, and he paused at the dulcet, commanding tone.
"Auntie?" he asked, one hoof already opening the door to the pantry.
"Normally we eat at the table," she commented with a growing smile, and her spoon gestured towards her own bowl. Of oats. And...
"Apples," he muttered, slipping into the kitchen. "APPLES!"
- - -
"Ah guess it makes sense a high class pony would be used ta high class apples," Applejack reasoned, thinking aloud. " Calville Blanc, huh? You know, we've got some reeeal sweet Golden Delicious apples a field over. Same kinda taste n' texture. Granny used'ta make open faced tarts with em, and flan, too."
Blueblood nodded, knowingly. "You don't make those anymore?"
"They didn't sell too well in town," she explained with a casual shrug. "So we just switched ta selling 'em as a snack. They also don't keep too well."
"One must adapt to one's marketplace," he agreed.
"Eyup." Big Mac spoke slowly and thoughtfully. "You suggestin' we make tarts for the Gala, then?"
Blueblood's horn glowed, and he levitated out a small brown folder. "Let me be truthful with you, Miss Applejack, if that's alright?"
"Ain't no policy like honesty," the country mare replied. "What's that ya got there?"
"You may not know this, but I am one of the primary financial sponsors of the Gala being held in my Auntie's honor," he said, and floated out a pair of fine etched papers. "This is the menu for the Gala. The right side here being the set piece, seven course dinner options for guests, and the left being the buffet and hors d'oeuvres."
Applejack took the proffered menu and scanned through, starting with the right side.
"Well, I'll be. You should see some'a these fancy dishes here, Big Mac! Why, I ain't never even heard'a some of these..." She paused, as her eyes found the left side of the carte du jour: the recently updated buffet. Blueblood had to suppress an evil grin.
"What the hay?" Applejack held up the papers again, looking closer. "Apple fritters? Caramel apples? Three varieties of apple dumpling? Apple fondue!"
Slowly, she lowered the evil, evil bill of fare.
"How much... did ya say it cost ta eat at the buffet?" she cautiously asked.
"The buffet is free," he told her, straight faced. "For all guests."
"Tarnation! They got everythin' here but apple pie and apple crepes! How am I supposed ta sell half my treats when any old pony can just walk into the next room and get the same thing for free?" She started to simmer, trying to think up a plan. "You wouldn't happen to know where yer chefs are gettin' these apples, do ya?"
"That's the awkward bit," Blueblood admitted with a helpless shrug. "I suspect those apples are being purchased from local retailers and middle-ponies."
"Local...?" Applejack buried her face in her hooves. "They're re-sellin' our own apples!"
"Quite," Blueblood remarked.
A little pony in the back of his head was cackling in manic glee.
"Well what the heck am I supposed to do now?" She handed the menu back, and he deftly returned it to its folder, and then his saddlebag. "This is a right mess, is what it is!"
"I suspected as much." The Equestrian Prince held up a hoof for her attention. "And on my way over, I think I may have stumbled on a way to salvage the situation. Unless... you want me to just close the table providing the apple hors d'oeuvres? You wouldn't have any competition if I did so."
"You'd do that?" Applejack asked, starting to consider it. Then she saw Apple Bloom sitting next to him and listening closely. The honest cowgirl shook her head. "No. Nope! No thank ya. That's not how the Apple Family does business."
Blueblood smiled. "So I've heard. In that case, maybe... another approach to business?"
Eyes scanning the faces of her immediate family, Applejack held a hoof to her chin.
"Like what?"
"Simple," he replied. "For nobles at an occasion like the Gala, the actual taste of the food is really secondary to its presentation. Ponies like myself are at the Gala to see others and to be seen. It is an elaborate display of influence and refinement. The finest dishes are the ones that give the impression of being... sinfully decadent."
"What's that mean?" Apple Bloom asked, wide eyed and innocent.
"Decadent," Applejack explained for the benefit of her little sister, scowling as she did so. "It means some foalish ponies like ta indulge themselves on silly things that they think are important. Like buying an expensive hat instead'a one that does its job."
"I believe Miss Rarity would disagree," Blueblood argued. "But, yes. The important thing in this case is that the cuisine be both expensive and exclusive to the Gala."
"So yer sayin' I need ta dress up mah apples?" The apple farmer huffed. "I guess Ah could make a cake or somethin –"
"NO CAKES."
Blueblood brought a hoof to his mouth and coughed a few times.
"Sorry," he tried again. "No cakes, please. I'm not... fond of cake."
Applejack raised an inquisitive eyebrow. "Ya don't say?"
"Instead," he proposed, "since you already have quite a few pies, perhaps you could make them a bit like this?" He retrieved another picture, this one of a piece of pie on a platter. The dish itself was intricate, fine china, and the slice of pie was drizzled with bright caramel in a familiar shape, with lines that ran wastefully over the porcelain saucer below. Curls of shaved apple aligned the edges, not for eating – just for show.
"Ah get it!" Apple Bloom peeked across the table to see the picture. "It looks like Celestia's cutie mark!"
The filly knew her cutie marks.
"Could you make apple pie that looks like this?" he asked, disarmingly calm.
"Ah... Ah suppose Ah could..." Applejack didn't sound sure, but the reluctance was probably due to the appearance of the dish, rather than the difficulty of emulating it.
"Good." Blueblood let her keep the picture. "All you need to do is sell it at ten bits a slice."
The country mare's hat damn near flew off her head.
"Ten bits a slice!?" she yelped, and quickly lowered her voice. "What kinda madpony would pay ten bits fer a slice o' pie? Ah was gonna sell a whole pie fer two bits!
"Oh, they'll buy it," Blueblood assured her, leaning forward to take one last polite sip of coffee. "And they'll whisper about how much they spent on it, and you'll sell out in an hour."
Applejack, left with few other options, reached up to press her hat down on her head.
"I guess... I guess Ah could..."
Jackpot!
The apple farmer would be ready.
- - -
"You'll be seeing Rain Booms!
Ooo-ooo-oooh!
Equestria Girls, we're kinda magical!
Boots on hooves, bikinis on top!"
- - -
Twilight Sparkle.
The Element of Magic. The purple coloration was actually quite exotic, the more Blueblood thought about it. He couldn't recall many unicorns with that rich, deep shade of the color around Canterlot, whereas white was quite common among the carefully bred noble families. Himself included. It was family tradition to always marry into proper bloodlines to ensure the perfect, bleached coat passed down through fifty two generations. It was supposed to be a sign of respect for one's ancestors and of proper adherence to the old ways.
Blueblood suspected everypony just wanted to look as much like Princess Celestia as possible.
"Prince Blueblood?" Sadly, he was greeted, not by a pretty purple unicorn, but by her little dragon assistant. The little serpent stared at him with narrow, unnaturally green eyes. He was a small specimen: Blueblood had encountered a few of his type over the years, especially at the Royal Academy. Naturally, he didn't have one himself. He had quite thoroughly failed that particular test of magic.
"You're the one who sent that letter this morning," Spike stated, unhappy with that fact. "Since when was my stomach on royal speed-dial?"
"It wasn't that uncomfortable, was it?" He looked down at the little dragonkin. "I'm still getting used to that spell."
"No worse than usual," Spike relented, and stepped aside. "Come on in."
Blueblood entered the quaint little library-in-a-tree. He had been quite impressed the first time he had done so – it was a feat of magic in and of itself to produce such a structure – but the novelty had worn off after enough loops. Nonetheless, the noblepony found it rather odd: the Ponyville library had a very, very eclectic array of books and scrolls, some of which only existed as copies in the Royal Library itself. It was wholly out of place for such a small town like Ponyville.
His playful Auntie's doing, no doubt.
"Spike!" Twilight called out from upstairs. "Have you seen Tenser's Tome of Tricks, Transmutations and Transformations?"
Case two, east wall, shelf six, thirteenth from the left.
"I'll get it!" Spike called back, already on his way, pausing only to adjust the sliding ladder that let him reach the higher shelves. "His 'highness' is here to see you."
"I'll be right there. Just get that book!"
As always, Blueblood noted the little dragon eyeing him warily.
"Hey," he said, ascending the ladder. "Are you taking Twilight to the Gala? How'd you two even meet?"
"I'm not here for Twilight specifically." He had learned, very quickly and quite readily, that the juvenile dragon had some sort of crush on Rarity. Making mention of being that unicorn's escort generally led to more trouble than it was worth. "You could say I'm accompanying all six of the Elements of Harmony."
"Because they're the Elements of Harmony?" Spike asked, retrieving Tenser's Tome.
"I'm doing it for the good of the Gala," he replied with practiced ease. "And, yes, because they are the Elements of Harmony."
"You don't... you know?" Spike turned, book-in-hand, and jumped down. "Like any of them? Do you?"
"I hardly know them." He couldn't help but grin, as he added, "Why do you ask?"
"That's kinda a secret, pal. But..." Good lord, he was terrible at keeping secrets. Spike walked over, and whispered conspiratorially. "Let's just say I have my eye on one of them."
"Oh ho?" He couldn't help himself. "Let me guess: the graceful young pegasus?"
"Who?" Spike asked and stuck out his tongue. "No she isn't a pegasus!"
"Ah! The lively earth pony filly, then?"
"...Who? Which one...? No!"
"Don't tell me?" He gasped in shock. "Miss Sparkle? How scandalous!"
"Gross, no!" Spike shook his whole body at the incestuous implication.
"Well, I suppose it's best I not know," Blueblood finished with a chuckle. "I am terrible with secrets."
Spike tucked the thick unicorn tome under his front leg and tried to compose himself. "Anyway, my point was: I was kind of hoping we could all spend time together. Me and the girls, I mean. I wanted to show them some of our old hang out spots in Canterlot!"
"Hm." Blueblood wondered aloud, "But doesn't Miss Dash wish to spend her time with the Wonderbolts?"
"Yeah, I guess..."
"I ran into Miss Pinkamena Pie earlier, and she claimed to be very excited about dancing."
"Yeah."
"This may also be a rumor, but isn't Miss Applejack planning to set up a food stall during the Gala?"
Spike frowned; a little petulantly, in Blueblood's opinion.
"I get it." He cut off any further remarks. "They all want to go do their own thing. Guess that leaves me to chat with the valet... or something."
"You don't have anything you want to do at the Gala?" Blueblood asked, honestly not knowing the answer to this one. "No one you want to see? No place you want to be?"
"This probably sounds silly," Spike said. "But I just want to be around my friends."
He set his jaw and sighed softly, seeing Twilight coming down from the upper rooms in the building. It was time.
"So do I sometimes," he whispered, just loud enough for Spike to hear.
Finally. It was time.
- - -
Rainbow Dash's squeal of excitement could be heard even over the sound of the hair dryers struggling to blow down Pinkie Pie's irrepressible mane. Ponyville's top flyer was already basically ready to go, her mane drying under a towel wrapped around her head. Never one to waste much time between prep and launch – countdowns were for sissies – she had nonetheless resigned herself to mostly waiting around while all of her friends burned the hours away getting ready.
But now?
She showed off the little ID-stub that she had freed from the letter taped to her cloud house this morning. It wasn't just a ticket to the Gala. She already had a basic admissions tab. This was a VIP pass to the private section of the party reserved for the Wonderbolts and their guests and family and fans!
Just thinking about it started to get her wings humming.
"It says here I can spend the whole night with any two Wonderbolts I want!" she exclaimed. "Any two!"
She stared hard at the little tag, currently laminated flat and with a small pin, all ready to attach onto her dress somewhere. It was her free pass; exactly what she'd wanted! With this one, little thing, she could stroll, carefree, into the private party of her idols. More than that!
"Any two! Any two Wonderbolts! And... they'll ALL be there!" She gasped, carefully pressing the ticket to her face. "I – I can't decide! Do you think 'any two' means... even Thunderhead himself? The Team Captain of the Wonderbolts? I couldn't... I mean... maybe I could? What would I even say to him?
"Wait!" She realized. "Do you think there’ll be retired Wonderbolts there, too? Oh my gosh! What if Sky Shade is there? She's. Amazing. Amazing!"
The cyan pegasus bit her lip. "But – wait – if I'm going to be spending the whole night with two Wonderbolts... maybe I should try and pick ones closer to my age? Hanging out with Thunderhead or Sky Shade or Raging Storm would be sooooo sweet, but... oh man, what am I going to do!?"
"Prince Blueblood gave you that?"
Dash interrupted her bouts of vocal indecision to look over at her unicorn friend: Rarity was just finishing under one of the drying machines. Her hair glistened and shone as she started to curl it just right. A case with makeup and cosmetics was already open next to her. It was the look on her face that got Dash's attention however. She looked... a little confused, and clearly scrutinizing all that she had heard this morning was taking some sort of toll.
Not that the weather mare saw the problem.
"I dunno," Rainbow admitted, going back to cooing at the VIP ticket. "It was just there on the front door of my house when I woke up."
"He did have a Royal Guard with him," Applejack reminded her friends. "Or maybe he knew that cloud-walkin' spell you used on us, Twilight?"
"He found the time to drop off a note at your house in the sky," Rarity surmised, then pointed at Applejack. "And he visited your farm..."
"And a couple others, I reckon," Applejack supplied.
"And he visited you, too?" Rarity turned her eyes on Twilight, who was currently under a dryer, with just the lower half of her face visible. "And... you, too, Pinkie?"
"He stopped by for a while." The normally bubbly pony was busy reading a book and tapping her left hoof in time to some unheard music. The rest of her response was muted by her muttering something about 'step-step-step, spin?'
"Everypony except Fluttershy," Rarity finished. It sounded like she wasn't sure how she felt about that. Her eyes wandered over to the bouquet of flowers she had brought to show off to her friends. The stalks were moistened in a tall glass, some of the paper wrapping removed to allow the flowers to drink and remain fresh a little longer. It was already filling the room with a faint but unmistakably sweet fragrance.
"Oh no. Not me," Fluttershy meekly replied, her hooves soaking in mineral water. "But that bouquet is just lovely. Glittering bellflowers and briarweave roses don't grow around here. Maybe... he got them from the Canterlot gardens?"
"You'll forgive me for looking a gift in the mouth, darlings," Rarity said, winding her hooves together nervously. "It all just seems too good to be true. I never imagined the stallion of my dreams would... well.. just walk right up to my door."
"It just seems..." She bit her lower lip. "Too convenient."
"Ah, yer just over-thinking things!" Dash blurted out, giggling to herself at the VIP pass as she tried to find a good place to wear it, moving it from her sides to her front and then to under her wings.
"When I spoke with him, he sounded very heavily invested in the outcome of the Gala tonight," Twilight added, ever the voice of reason and studied examination. "I think he thinks that we're guests of honor, due to the Elements of Harmony and what we did saving Princess Celestia and Princess Luna."
"That makes sense," Rarity grudgingly admitted. "You think he's doing this out of some sort of obligation?"
"What's it matter so much anyhow?" Applejack asked, helping Fluttershy dry off her hooves. "He seemed like a nice enough fella, and you know these noblepony types. They've always got some angle of their own. I'd bet he just wants ta make a good impression tonight."
"It matters because –"
Rarity didn't finish her objection, she just closed her eyes and floated over a pair of lashes.
"I think I understand," Fluttershy said, grimacing as Applejack spat on her hoof before wiping it clean. "You want him to like you for who you are."
"He asked if he could escort me to the Gala." Rarity looked at her reflection in the mirror, full of worry when it should have been excitement. "But something just doesn't feel... right. I'd expected it to be magical."
"Maybe it will be," Twilight assured her friend. "Just wait and see. Tonight is going to be..."
All six raised their voices: "The best night ever!"