Peter opened his eyes, hoping to grace his first sight of the day with Twilight asleep or awake by his side; whichever one were to occur did not matter to him. Instead, he saw an empty, rustled spot where she once laid. Peter got out of the bed, walking around to see that the basket Spike slept in was also empty. Going over to the banister of the top floor, he peered down into the study, seeing Twilight reading a book at her desk. Spike was by her side, ready to get her whatever she needed. Next to her were two more books stacked upon each other.
As Twilight continued to immerse herself in the studies she claimed to have, Peter went to the closet to pick his wardrobe for the day. He decided on a pair of kakhi shorts, a plain sky-blue t-shirt and a white shirt jacket. After grabbing a pair of socks and underwear, he went to the bathroom to wash up.
____________________________________________________________
Peter eventually emerged from the bathroom, hoping to get a word in with Twilight before he left. However, he turned to see her in the kitchen cutting up an apple with a paring knife. Peter saw from the oblong shaped handle that she was using one of his Cutco knives. Peter closed the door behind her, which happened to bring him to her attention.
“Oh,” she greeted. “Good morning, Peter. I was just trying out one of your knives, and I have to say, this cuts really nicely.”
“I know, right?” said Peter. “When I was in high school, I wanted to get a jumpstart on my savings for my restaurant, so I decided to get a job as a representative for those knives. Needless to say, I was so knowledgeable about them through my love of cooking, that I sold a ton of them. My commission was so good that I bought their biggest set with no problems by summer’s end, and that’s the set you’re looking at.”
“Very nice. Were these intended for your restaurant?”
“I was planning on it, but those sets, even if they were cheaper than anything you get in the stores, were still a lot of money! I figured that they would serve me just fine in my home.”
“I gotcha. Oh, speaking of money, there are some rolls of bits for you at my desk.”
“Twilight,” Peter said, grabbing himself an apple, “you don’t need to fork over your money to me.”
“Heeheehee! Who said it’s my money?”
“Then whose is it?”
“Celestia decided to go ahead and lend you a little money while you’re here. She also sent the address of the lot that will become your restaurant.”
“Oh, great. Too bad I still don’t know this town well enough to really know where any of the streets are. Sure, I have my internet, but I highly doubt Google Maps will have satellites to give me directions there.”
“I’ll… just take your word on that. Either way, feel free to go around town today. I’ll just be in here for the entirety of the day.”
Peter took a bite out of his apple, going downstairs to see four long rolls of gold coins strapped together on Twilight’s desk as well as a slip of paper detailing the address of the lot as well as an old-fashioned gold key for him to enter it. Peter grinned, happy to actually be in possession of a key for his restaurant. He then grabbed two rolls of coins and headed back upstairs.
Going back to his closet, he put on a red backpack with a single padded strap that crossed over his right shoulder and down to the left side of his hip. He placed the coins in the front pouch and put the key to his lot into a little pouch on the strap. After putting the address in his pocket, he went to his dresser and grabbed his phone, wallet, keys, and watch and put the first three items in his pockets and put the last thing on his wrist. With that settled, he was ready to go.
“I’m going out now,” Peter said.
“Alright,” Twilight said, sitting in the kitchen as she finished her apple. “Have fun!”
“Bye, Peter!” called Spike as he emerged from the bathroom door.
Peter descended the stairs to the study before going back down to the library on the first level. Walking outside, he could see Ponyville as it was bustling with morning activity. With the sun shining through the blue sky, everything felt serene and wonderful. The trailer was still left from yesterday, still containing his gear for this restaurant.
Peter walked around to his bike, which was still right where he left it, even when unchained and vulnerable. Peter walked it from the outside of the house to give him room to mount, and with a gentle hop, he situated himself on his bike. With a final push of his foot, Peter moved forwards, letting his feet move the pedals the rest of the way along the western edge of the town.
Peter wanted to zip down the grassy streets, but with his unfamiliarity with his new home and the way ponies wandered every which way as opposed to the cars back home, he felt more inclined to move at the slowest speed he could move before his bike would lose balance. He looked around, taking note of the various buildings that he passed on his way.
Quills and Sofas? wondered Peter. How randomly specific.
As Peter continued to tread along, giving friendly waves to the ponies who looked happily surprised to see him, he came across a larger building that looked like a massive gingerbread house with pink windows and a dark-brown roof. Peter remembered hearing someone mentioning that one of his new friends that he met the previous day had worked here. If there was any pony that could match the exuberance of the place everyone knew as Sugarcube Corner, Peter knew it had to be Pinkie Pie.
Peter rode up to the side of Sugarcube Corner and parked his bike alongside it. Still knowing his bike was safe, he made his way to the entrance as soon as he dismounted. Upon walking in he was greeted to the sight of a colorful array of pastries and candies upon the display in the back, the shelves on the right, and the tables all around the store. What struck Peter as odd though was how much the place looked like the living room of a house, a rug in the center of the floor, stairs that looked too homey to be for another room in the store.
Peter looked to see two ponies in particular, both mares, sitting at one of the tables sipping drinks out of teacups with straws as they engaged in conversation. The first looked to be a pinkish-purple colored mare with a raspberry colored mane and tail. Her cutie mark featured a single strawberry and a bunch of grapes. The second was light-khaki in color and had a curly dark-blue mane and tail with a large pink streak down the middle. Her cutie mark was three candies tied in light-blue wrappers.
Upon seeing Peter, the two mares stopped their talking and gave Peter a wave, glad to be in the same room as him. Looked at the display case, looking at all the various cakes, muffins, and breads were available. Looking at the banana bread inside, he suddenly felt hungry, his apple from earlier feeling not as filling as he hoped. Peter walked up to the counter and found a bell. Tapping the button, he hoped for service soon. Sure enough, Pinkie Pie’s voice called out from upstairs.
“I got it!” she shouted.
Pinkie Pie trotted down the stairs from behind the counter and walked up, not seeming to notice Peter.
“Welcome to Sugarcube Corner,” she greeted, her eyes closed in the passion of her delivery, “home of the one and only–”
Pinkie Pie then looked up to see Peter standing before her. Seeing her new friend here, he was overjoyed.
“Peter,” she squealed, leaping over the counter and giving him a tight hug, “you’re here!”
“Aha,” coughed Peter, feeling the constriction of Pinkie Pie’s arms, “that I am.”
“What are you doing here?” she asked back, letting go of him. “Are you hungry?”
“As a matter of fact, I am, but in honesty, I was just taking a bike tour of the town so I can get to know it better.”
“Sounds like fun! I wish I could come, but I’m helping out the Cakes today. The foals are a bit cranky ‘cause they’re ‘tethering.’ I mean, you know what they say: ‘There’s no better time to teach your foals how to camp!’”
Peter was again dumbfounded by Pinkie Pie’s words, even with her confident smile that suggested that she made total sense in her mind. Pinkie Pie, seeing Peter’s expression, just remembered.
“That’s right!” she exclaimed. “You haven’t met the Cakes yet! They’re my bosses and they allow me to live here. They have a pair of foals, Pumpkin Cake and Pound Cake, and they’re tethering, so–”
“Uh, Pinkie,” interrupted Peter, trying to sound as polite as possible, “I think you mean teething, and that’s when babies get their first baby teeth in. The process is usually painful for them, and they tend to require some attention, so to summarize, the owners are a bit busy with their kids, so you’re subbing for them.”
Pinkie Pie cocked her head, trying to retain all of Peter’s information.
“Ooooh!” she exclaimed, brightening back up. “That’s why they were so cranky! I mean, how can tethering sound painful? Everypony loves camping! You have s’mores, bonfires, ghost stories, the great outdo–”
“Hey, Pinkie,” interrupted Peter once again, feeling a little sick of her rambling, “can I please just get some banana bread?”
“You got it!” she said, hopping back behind the counter and looking for the loaf.
Peter turned to the two ponies who were watching the entire conversation with mild-interest.
“She seems to take a liking to you,” said the pinkish pony.
“Please,” the khaki pony mentioned with a playful rolling of her eyes, “who does Pinkie not take a liking to?”
“Touché.”
“Well, she’s certainly… a card,” Peter said walking over to the two ponies. “Definitely can’t say I’ve ever known someone quite that random or than energetic before, even on my world.”
“She grows on you,” the khaki pony answered, “but where are my manners. My name is Bon-Bon. It’s an honor to meet you, Peter.”
“Likewise.”
Peter took Bon-Bon’s outstretched hoof and shook it, happy to acquaint himself with another pony.
“And I’m Berry Punch,” answered the other mare, offering her hoof to shake. “If you stick around long enough, you might just meet Lyra.”
“Lyra?” asked Peter, his tone suggesting his familiarity with the name.
“Yeah,” Bon-Bon replied. “You know her?”
“It’s a long story.”
“We have time,” Berry Punch said. “Our stores don’t open for another hour or so.”
“Stores… oh, shhhoot!”
“What’s wrong,” Pinkie Pie asked. “Did you change your mind on the banana bread?”
“Nothing, Pinkie!” he called back. “The bread is fine. I just forgot to call my pop!”
“Your dad? You have a dad here too?” asked Berry Punch.
“Another long story,” Peter replied.
“That’s great,” Pinkie Pie answered back, “because your bread is done!”
Peter looked to see three slices of the moist bread stacked on a small plate with a knife and a small dish containing a pat of butter inside of it. Peter nodded and went up to grab the plate.
“Much obliged,” he told Pinkie Pie.
Walking back, he placed the plate on the table at an open chair and pulled his phone out, going through Skype until he found his dad. Pressing the button on the screen, he rung for his dad and placed the phone in front of him, the ponies crowding around him to see. With Patrick answering the phone, the mares giggled in anticipation.
“Hey Peter,” answered Patrick. “What’s going on? Where are you?”
“I was just stopping into the local bakery for a bite for breakfast.”
“Okay, and who are the ponies crowded around you?”
“Oh, right. Patrick, I’d like you to meet my two new friends, Bon-Bon and Berry Punch. They were sitting at a table while I went to get my banana bread and so I decided to join them.”
“I have to say,” Bon-Bon said, putting her hoof to her heart, “it’s quite a wonderful surprise to be getting to talk to you.”
“Me too,” Berry Punch exclaimed, waving in the back.
“Yes,” Patrick chuckled, and I’m glad to see Peter’s settling in well. So, Peter, any plans for today?”
“Well, I was going to ride around the town and get to know my home a bit better, but I was also going to stop at my lot and take a look around, perhaps get a better idea for how I want the restaurant to look.”
“Well, good for you. Do you think I’ll be able to see it soon?”
“Personally, I’d rather wait until you see the final product. Plus, I don’t want to bail on my new friends before you have to leave for work.”
“Don’t sweat it, Pete. I’ll be fine waiting. Are you all moved in yet?”
“Yep. Got finished yesterday morning. Well, except for my appliances for the kitchen.”
“I got’cha.”
The sound of a door hitting a bell rung through the room, alerting everyone inside of a new customer. While Peter was momentarily still preoccupied with his dad, Bon-Bon and Berry Punch looked to see who it was. It was Lyra, and with her panting, it looked like she ran there.
“Well, look who decided to finally show,” Berry Punch said with a cheeky grin.
“Sorry, for being late,” Lyra responded, looking up to see her friends, “the train was a bit–”
Lyra then locked eyes with Peter, suddenly becoming overjoyed with his being there.
“Peter!” she squealed, galloping up to him and giving him a tight, gleeful hug.
“Another friend, I presume?” asked Patrick’s from the phone.
Lyra, still holding on to Peter, looked down to see Patrick’s face as he looked at the two of them inquisitively.
“Peter?” aked Lyra, letting herself down. “Is that your dad?”
“Yeah, it is.”
“No way!” she exclaimed, looking at the screen. “This is so cool! Hi, Mr. Peter’s Dad! Can you hear me?”
“Yes, I can hear you just fine,” Patrick answered, off put by the mint-green mare’s excitement. “In fact, Peter looks a bit busy. I’ll let you go now, Peter, but thanks for checking in.”
“Alright then. I’ll text you some pictures of the lot when I get the chance.”
“Sounds great, Peter. I’ll talk to you later. Bye.”
“Bye, pop.”
With the conversation over, Peter clicked the red button on the screen and put the phone back in his pocket.
“How are you able to do that?” asked Lyra. “Talk to your dad, that is.”
“And how do you know Lyra?” asked Bon-Bon.
“Alright,” Peter said, reaching for the knife and a slice of his bread, “I suppose now is as good a time as any.”
As Peter scooped some butter with his knife, he prepared to tell his story in fuller detail with his new set of friends.
____________________________________________________________
Peter enjoyed listening to the laughs that Lyra, Bon-Bon, and Berry Punch were making. His plate and small butter dish were empty, but Peter almost felt no reason to leave. The three ponies before him were certainly entertaining themselves as they recounted some of their own pasts with him. Lyra was the first one to stop giggling, wanting to talk a bit more.
“So, Peter,” asked Lyra. “What are you going to be doing for today?”
“I was going to head over to the lot where my restaurant will be. Oh, speaking of…”
Peter reached into his pocket and pulled out the paper with the address on it.
“Would any of you ladies be kind enough to tell me where… 7669 Riverside St. is?”
“Yeah, sure,” answered Lyra. “I know where Riverside is. I’ll take you there.”
“And as much fun as I’ve been having today,” Peter said, standing from his chair and putting his backpack on, “is it okay that I leave here and continue my day?”
“Oh, not at all!” Bon-Bon exclaimed. “I doubt you were even planning on spending your morning with us.”
“Besides,” Berry Punch said, “we gotta’ get to our shops and get them ready for opening. You should swing by my place sometime. I’ll give you a free smoothie.”
“That sounds great, but I already brought some money with me. You don’t have to go through that trouble for nothing. I mean, I’m no celebrity.”
“Well, when you’re the only one of your kind in the world, I’d say that’s someone to celebrate.”
“Hmm, touché, but still, I’d much rather pay myself. It’d be really hard to run a business giving all your stuff to your friends for free.”
“Well, if you insist, I won’t stop you.”
“Thank you. It really makes me feel a lot better. Oh, speaking of.”
Peter walked to the counter, looking around behind it to find Pinkie Pie, but she didn’t seem to be there. Not in a mood to shout for her, Peter then looked in the display for the price of the bread, only to see that a sign did not exist.
“Must be helping with the foals,” guessed Peter.
“Banana bread and butter is 6 bits,” Bon-Bon said.
“Ah,” exclaimed Peter, reaching into his bag, “thanks.”
Peter took one of his rolls of coins, tore it open, and placed two stacks of three on the counter next to the register.
“Alright,” Peter said, making his way to the exit, “let’s get going then. Farewell, ladies. I hope to see both of you again soon.”
“Bye, Peter!” called Berry Punch.
“See you soon!” bid Bon-Bon.
Peter walked outside of Sugarcube Corner, Lyra following him out. As Peter walked to the right, Lyra tilted her head in confusion.
“Where are you going?” she asked. “Riverside is this way!”
Peter came back around with his bicycle. The contraption mystified Lyra, having never quite seen something like this before.
“What’s that?” she wondered.
“It’s my bicycle,” he said. “It helps me travel a bit faster than on foot, but seeing as you’re going to be guiding me, I don’t think I’ll be using it now.”
“Alright then. Just follow me.”
Lyra marched ahead of Peter, feeling excited to be the one mare showing the only human in Equestria around town. As Peter walked behind Lyra, he couldn’t help but notice that she waved more eagerly than Peter was at the various townsponies that bid him hello. Peter was a bit more focused on following Lyra so he wouldn’t get lost.
As they approached the end of the road, they turned left and continued onwards. However, Peter’s sights were set on a series of tent-shaped homes and stalls for various purposes. There was one building that really stood out amongst them all. It was a tall, blueberry-colored building with pink roofs that looked to resemble a double-decker merry-go-round.
“Wow,” Peter gasped, “that pony’s mortgage must be outrageous.”
“That’s Carousel Boutique,” Lyra said. “If there’s anypony in Ponyville who will admire a restaurant here, it’s Rarity, but I assume you’ve met her already, being that she’s one of Twilight’s close friends.”
“I have, last night as a matter of fact.”
“Why don’t we go say hi?”
“Honestly,” Peter shrugged, “I’d much rather get on with it. Maybe after.”
“Okay. I’m alright with that. Besides, we’re almost there.”
Lyra continued to lead Peter down the way along the river. Much like Lyra had promised, a wooden building had come up on the end of a string of buildings that Peter couldn’t help but give an excited chuckle at. It appeared much like a city bistro with windows along the entire outside of the building. Along the front and left sides of the building was a gated area with small, clay fire pits on the corners; no doubt a patio.
Despite the initial look of the restaurant, Peter was saddened by its abandoned look. The windows were grimy and streaked with dust and grease. Bits of leaves, dirt and grass littered the floor of the patio, which was completely barren with furniture. Lyra looked to see Peter’s reaction, only to be dismayed to see his grimace.
“Peter?” Lyra questioned. “What’s wrong?”
“I…” Peter began, trying to force a smile, but gave up soon after. “It’s just I’ve never liked seeing closed restaurants. You have to imagine the care the owners put into running it, and what they eventually lost by giving it up.”
“I see… But, it’s your restaurant now. You’re going to be that owner running it and putting care into it. Go on, Peter.”
Peter leaned his bike against the gate of the patio, stepping up to the double doors before him. Pulling his key from his pocket and placing it inside the lock with a turn, Peter stepped inside the restaurant and in through another set of doors. Peter browsed from left to right, seeing what he had.
Unlike the outside, the inside looked clean and well preserved, minus the lack of furniture, light, or population. The left half of the building appeared to be a large dining room with a large fireplace on the very end. The middle-right quarter was a wrap-around bar with shelves that would appear to house a wide variety of alcohol. The rightmost quarter looked to be another dining area, but elevated up by a ramp.
Peter walked further into the restaurant and towards the back, where he could see the pass counter along the wall of the main dining room, as well as the kitchen entrance right beside it. Peter ran his finger across the counter of the bar, groaning at the thick layer of dust his finger had picked up. Stepping inside the kitchen as he rubbed his hand on his pants, Peter’s smile visibly returned, happy to see the kitchen as it was.
While there were no ovens, stoves, or fryers inside to speak of, the kitchen was very spacious and would provide him and his crew with ample room to work around. At the end of the kitchen was the entrance to the walk-in fridge, which was held open by a rubber door stop.
Peter walked inside, happy again to see the size and space of the fridge and all the food he’d be able to put inside of it. What amazed Peter even more was how nowhere, especially the kitchen or the walk-in, smelled dank with mold or mildew.
Whoever left this place really left it looking nice, Peter thought.
Peter picked out his iPhone from his pocket and turned on the camera setting, turning it sideways as the image kept focus.
____________________________________________________________
Lyra stood outside the building, waiting for Peter to come out, resorting to pacing as she waited. Peter, seeming to approach the door, turned back around and took three pictures of the dining room, the bar, and the side dining area in quick succession. Lyra glared at Peter expectantly, eagerly awaiting him to come out and let her know what he thought. Peter finally opened the outside doors, but held them open as he stood inside the doorway, looking at her.
“What’s going on?” she asked. “Do you like it?”
“Lyra,” he called with a wagging finger, “could you please step inside?”
“You want me to come inside? Sure thing, Peter!”
Lyra trotted inside, stopping at the foyer and browsing the entire restaurant with her eyes. As Lyra gawked at what she was seeing, Peter knelt down and took pictures of her with his phone once again.
“This is great!” complimented Lyra. “This restaurant is going to look so spiffy once it gets fixed up!”
“Lyra,” requested Peter, pointing at the border of the dining room and bar, “could you stand there and face me?”
Lyra turned to face Peter, looking where he was pointing, and then at the point where he wanted her.
“S– sure, Peter,” Lyra answered with hesitation, backing up to the intended spot.
“Now,” he asked, “can you give me your best smile?”
Lyra, as asked, gave Peter a genuine and welcoming smile as Peter snapped two pictures of her. Standing up with a groaning sigh, Peter looked at his final two pictures, smiling at Lyra’s happy expression.
“Say, Lyra,” Peter asked, “nothing personal, but are you employed?”
“Employed?” Lyra asked with suspicion. “Why do you want to know that?”
“It’s just…” he squeaked, trying to find the right words, “you are a very nice mare, and I’ve really enjoyed your help and company while I’ve been here. The reason I ask is because I thought you would make a great maître d for my restaurant.”
Lyra froze, unsure if she could have possibly heard Peter correctly. Slowly turning to him with a stunned expression, Peter looked down on her, smiling to confirm his honesty.
“You mean…” she shuddered, “you want me to be the maître d of your res–”
“That’s exactly what I’m asking from you,” Peter responded with humorous frankness.
Lyra’s smiling lips stretched across her face, revealing nearly every tooth in her mouth. Jumping to her back hooves, she wrapped her arms around Peter’s chest, laughing and crying at the opportunity handed to her.
“Of course, I will!” she shouted. “Thank you so much!”
“You deserve it, Lyra,” he said, petting down her back.
Lyra’s joy and pleasure was channeled to her tail, which began to wag incessantly as Peter tried holding the excited green unicorn still.
____________________________________________________________
Back in Twilight’s study, Peter was penning a letter on her desk, a tan-colored owl with brown wings watching him from above on a perch with slight caution. Even as the library entrance came open downstairs, the sound of hoofsteps coming up the stairs shortly afterwards, Peter’s face was drawn to his letter. Twilight entered into her study with two saddlebags filled with fresh fruit and vegetables, seeing Peter in her desk.
“Oh, Peter!” Twilight greeted. “You’re home early. How did it go?”
“Great, actually,” Peter responded, still writing. “I think I’ve already hired my first staff member.”
“Already? Who might that be?”
“Lyra Heartstrings,” Peter answered as he dipped his quill into the inkwell on each word for effect. “She’s going to be my maître d.”
“Really? What made you come to that decision?”
“You should know,” he responded, as he placed his quill in the well, finished with it. “She’s kind, charismatic, charming, just the right kind of pony to give the first impression for my restaurant.”
“And she said yes?”
“You should have seen her, Twilight. Her tail was wagging so hard as she hugged me. I don’t think I’ve even seen dogs so excited to see their owners return home.”
“Well, that was very nice of you, Peter. I’m sure she’ll make a fine host.”
“Hey, Spike!” shouted Peter, making Twilight jump a touch.
“Yeah, Peter!” Spike called back as he ran down the stairs from the top floor.
“What is that you’re writing there?” asked Twilight as Spike snatched the letter from Peter’s grasp.
“Oh, nothing,” Peter chirped with an impish smile. “Just writing a request letter for a sous chef.”
Spike rolled and sealed the letter with graceful gusto. With a deep inhale and a hard blow, Spike’s fire breath engulf the letter before both the smoke and the fire collapsed inwards before disappearing with a poof.
“A sous chef?” wondered Twilight. “Who are you looking for in Canterlot that would be your–”
Twilight, suddenly understanding, perked her ears up with widened eyes and an expression of discovery. Twilight, imagining the reaction of the intended recipient, then gave a warm smile as she imagined how they would react to it.
____________________________________________________________
Celestia sat at a small, but beautifully carved stone table across from Luna, an empty bowl of soup in front of each of them. As Celestia dabbed her lips and muzzle with her napkin, a purple flame puffed before her, which formed into a sealed and rolled scroll that gently set itself on the table next to her. Celestia, intrigued, unrolled it with her magic and began reading it. Seeing who the letter was addressed to, Celestia set the paper face down on the table.
“Who was it for?” asked Luna curiously.
Before Celestia could answer, Crème Fraiche stepped into the dining room holding two covered plates in her magic. Once she had levitated the empty soup bowls out of Celestia and Luna’s way, she set the trays down, pulling the lids off to reveal a peeled beet sitting in a white, herby sauce with a dollop of mashed potatoes beside it.
“Your majesties,” Crème Fraiche presented, “dinner is a roasted beet in a dill and parsley cream sauce with mashed potatoes infused with cauliflower puree.”
“Thank you, Crème,” bid Celestia, floating the letter towards her. “I believe this is for you.”
“For me?” she wondered, intrigued as she put the paper to her face and read.
Her eyes quickly scanned the paper as she got the gist of the letter. Upon reading the true intentions inside, Crème Fraiche gasped loudly, her magic ceasing from the shock and making the letter fall to the floor. Celestia and Luna turned to look at the petrified Crème Fraiche, her eyes moistening as she gently sniffled.
Suspicious, Celestia picked up the paper and read it herself. Upon realizing what she had read, Celestia herself couldn’t withhold a shocked expression, which became a warm and loving smile.
“Crème Fraiche,” Celestia spoke.
“Y– y– y– yes?” she stammered.
“He really does respect and care for you, doesn’t he?”
“Your majesty…?”
“You must be having a hard time deciding, aren’t you?” Celestia responded, getting up from her seat and walking to Crème Fraiche. “Tell me, Crème, what do you want to do? I’ll support you either way.”
“But… your… your maj–”
“You’ve always called me by that title,” she giggled, “but I’d like to think of you as more than just my personal chef. You have fed my sister and I for many years and you have shaped the life of someone who wasn’t even of this world. I think you should let him repay you.”
“What!?” Crème Fraiche shouted, looking about her in a fluster. “B– but, what about your kit–”
“You needn’t worry. As difficult as it may be, I’ll be sure that your kitchen is placed in the hooves of a pony just as honorable and talented as you. All that I care about is that you work in the kitchen that you want to.”
Crème Fraiche looked away with tearing eyes, still unsure of which choice she should make.
“Crème, you have been a wonderful chef and a valuable friend, but I don’t want you to stay here if you would much rather accept Peter’s offer in Ponyville.”
Crème looked back into Celestia’s sympathetic and caring eyes.
“So…” Crème Fraiche asked, reaching her breaking point. “I suppose that was my final meal I cooked for you, then?”
“If that is what you wish,” Celestia responded.
Crème Fraiche, fully embracing the offer, leapt onto Princess Celestia and hugged her tight, bawling into her neck. Luna, her plate completely untouched as she watched the ordeal, smiled, glad to see such a momentous decision come to pass. Celestia gently rubbed her hoof on the crying mare’s back, letting her know that everything for her would be alright in the end.