//------------------------------//
// Chapter 5 
// Story: The Castle Canterlot 
// by Honey Mead 
//------------------------------//


The Castle Canterlot:
Chapter 5



“I prefer to live in the now. What matters planning for tomorrow if you cannot enjoy today?”


—H.R.H. Princess Cadence Invictus



Ambassador Kara cut into the flank of salmon. Clear juices soaked into the seasoning, unlocking the fragrant spices and making her salivate. She eyed the pink chunk of flesh on her fork before snapping it with her beak. The short, high temperature, searing charred the outside and gave it the sharp tang of carbon without ruining the meat by actually cooking it. Swallowing, she decided it was sufficient, though she’d been looking forward to the chicken that they’d been promised.
She sat amid the small collection of other griffins, not quite segregated from the rest of the non carnivorous guests. All around them, ponies were steeped in their own private conversations as they chewed their grass clippings.
It had not taken Kara long to learn to hide the sneer that developed every time she dealt with the ponies, but it had taken years to lose it altogether. That had been a disquieting revelation when she noticed it. In a fright, she’d taken an impromptu vacation and returned to the Aerie. The next few weeks had been spent partaking in every aspect of griffon culture she could dig her talons into. The damage had already been done, however. Her deep-seated loyalty to king and country demanded she report herself, fully expecting to be dismissed from service.
To her surprise, King Phoenixsong praised her for her patriotism and honesty, explaining that it was only natural to feel such after so long, good even. It would only make her that much more effective a diplomat. That she’d recognized the change and reported herself only proved that she was the right griffon for the post. But the King cautioned her to always remain aware of her new perspective, that it not cloud her judgment.
With these thoughts always at the fore, Kara watched the ponies celebrate another holiday. Every week they seemed to invent another excuse for celebration and pageantry. Of this holiday, at least, she approved. At first she had thought it nothing more than an overt display of Equestrian self-importance, Princess Celestia showing off her pre-eminent command of the heavens. Only when the topic had come up in the presence of the Revered Speaker had she learned the truth of the matter, of the short but devastating war of Sun and Moon. The defeat of a great enemy was always a good reason to celebrate.
Now if only they would learn how to celebrate.
Once she had eaten her fill, and made use of the provided breath mints, she left her attendants to begin her rounds. 
Kara despised politics. The game the nobles made of vying for power and influence held no luster for her. Her job was to ensure that Equestria stayed true to their agreements and that griffon interests were not cast to the wayside. That, unfortunately, did not preclude her from playing.
The only joy she found in the whole charade was the way so many of the nobles were never quite comfortable with her presence. She smirked whenever one would unconsciously slip into a defensive stance as they spoke—which only made them that much more ill at ease.
The night dragged. Boredom made the hours roll on slower than Ioka’s great flippers cutting through the great black emptiness beyond. Amid dull music, lifeless dancing, and mind numbing small talk, Ambassador Kara’s only respite came when she fled to the hors d'oeuvres.
“It’s entertaining, isn’t it… like watching a litter of puppies fight over their mothers teets.”
Kara nearly started, looking up from the tiny bits of toothpick speared ‘food’ and noticing the Guard Captain for the first time. That could have been embarrassing.
Igneous Quartz—if she recalled correctly—Royal Guard, Captain of the Shield wore her duty armour, all polished steel save for the gold leaf decorations at her collar and cannons. Kara had idly wondered whether it was battle ready, or merely ceremonial, but never bothered to ask. It had been more than a generation since the Royal Guard had last taken to the field.
An earth pony, Quartz was of a size with Kara, almost able to look down at her even. She did not face Kara directly, her back to the table and eyes favoring the nobles and politicians. Like nearly all the Royal Guards, her coat was pearl white while her mane and tail were a bright royal blue. 
Kara, annoyed by being caught off guard, considered chiding her on speaking so of her ‘betters’, but thought better of it. Though she knew little of Quartz personally, she recognized her type, both from the other pony guards and griffon warriors. Such comments would only receive amused grunts at best. 
“You ponies play at being above the fold,” she began as though simply agreeing with her, before letting out a harsh laugh. “There is only one difference between griffon politics and pony politics.”
The statement left a definitive void that demanded an explanation. Quartz tail snapped against her fetlocks. “And that difference would be?”
“When a griffon hamstrings you, it’s with his own talon, and a limp is the worst you’ll get. Where you see mewling chicks, I see toms and mollys vying for what scraps of power your princess lets fall from her table. Your ladies divy and partition their holdings, making barbed offerings that bind the recipients to them tighter than any family bonds. Those with power gain more, stepping on the backs of their ‘lessers’ to get higher and higher. There’s only one way to the top, being born there.”
Something about her little rant must have gotten under Quartz’s coat, for she wore a sour look as she said, “And the griffons are so much better?”
Kara shrugged. “No, but we are at least honest about it. Your lordlings dangle power over those below them and, just as they are about to grasp it, yank it away again. Your ceilings are no more malleable than ours, we just built ours of wood instead of glass.”
Even with the steady drone of the party, Kara could make out the grinding of Quartz’s teeth. When she finally spoke up, her voice was cold iron. “My mother farmed rocks.”
Kara chuckled and shook her head as the Captain stormed off. Ponies were too easy sometimes.
None of the other ponies proved to be as entertaining as the Captain, too busy vying for favors to provide an amusement. With no other alternative, she was forced to bear the tedium until dawn approached and everyone was ushered outside to witness the sunrise.
Finding a comfortable cloud, Kara and her retinue lounged among the pegasi. Idle chatter followed, mostly focusing on favored sports teams and baseless boasting on their behalf, as they waited.
And waited.
Kara shifted, her wings resettling against her side. She was about to ask for the time when a strangled gasp caught her ear. One of the pegasus guards stared wide eyed, forehoof pointing up at the sky.
“Well, that’s a neat trick,” she muttered to herself as she followed his gaze. 



 — — — TCC — — — 



Madam Speaker, Lady Scribble Blackwell, stared at the tome-thick stack of papers. She’d been told by the Princess herself that there had been a time when law did not require so many words, but, for the life of her, she couldn’t imagine it. For a few minutes she wondered how it had been possible. Certainly, it seemed like a simple concept. That is wrong; the punishment is this. Foalish. Nothing was that simple. Even murder was not so black and white. The demon is in the details, as they say.
Much to her annoyance, however, that wasn’t what was on her mind. Nor the particular minutia of the referendum she was attempting to read. Everytime she brought her focus back to her work, it kept circling around to her conversation with Chronicle.
Celestia was taking a vacation.
The words refused to mesh properly. She understood it on a base level. Of course Celestia was taking a vacation. Out of all the ponies she knew, there were none more deserving of some personal time off. Yet… it felt wrong. Foreign. Celestia did not take vacations. She just didn’t. In Blackwell’s thirty plus years in the House of Ladies, not once had the Princess even spoken of it as a possibility.
Had it been anypony other than Chronicle—especially the princess herself—she would have assumed it was a joke.
That was just the hot-sauces on the cupcake though. The real tangle in her tail was Her Serene Highness, Princess Cadence Invictus of the Crystal City.
Blackwell’s teeth ground together. If there was anypony less deserving of her position… Best not to dwell on such things.
It would only be a few days, Blackwell reminded herself, and Cadence was unlikely to get in her way unless provoked. If she was half the judge of character that she prided herself on being, the princess would do everything she could to stay out of the way, hiding from any real responsibility until the real Princess returned.
With an agitated huff, she let the referendum drop to her desk and leaned back until her head touched the bookshelf. The day had been a long one. She had a job to do after all, holidays be damned. Not that she was getting much work done…
Reaching out blindly, Blackwell’s field encased and tugged on the bell-cord beside the door. It was getting late, and she should have been home hours ago. Her husband and wives were probably getting worried.
A single light knock preceded Quick Quill opening to door. “Yes, mum?”
“Can you fetch me the…” Blackwell trailed off as her eyes came to rest on the wall clock. Only then did it fully dawn on her just how late it actually was. Victory was going to be furious. “Why didn’t you tell me it was so late?”
“Mum?”
“It’s nearly dawn! Surely you have someplace better to be this evening… I know I do.”
“I’m sorry, mum. I didn’t—”
Blackwell waved a hoof as she stood. “There’s no time for that now.” Moving around the desk, she began ushering her secretary back out the door. “I’m already in for an earful when I get home as it is, no need to make it worse by dallying. Go gather my driver and have him meet me out front.”
“Yes, mum. Right away, mum.”
With Quick Quill on her way, Blackwell set about gathering her things and straightening her office. Minutes later, once everything was tidy, she trotted out of the House of Ladies to meet her waiting carriage.
It was Quill and her driver’s distant expressions that caught her eye first. She slowed to a stop and followed their gaze up into the night sky.



 — — — TCC — — — 



Shining Armour, Royal Guard Captain of the Sword, fought a losing battle against the amused grin on his lips. Years of military discipline didn’t stand a chance against the sight before him. 
It had only been fifteen minutes since he’d arrived at the Royal Observatory and joined Cadence on the balcony. She’d already been pacing when he showed up. At first, he’d been concerned that something was wrong. Then she’d started using real words.
He’d seen her like this before, almost always after dealing with what she referred to as ‘political nonsense’, or when Celestia was in one of her moods and chose Cadence as her mark. She was frustrated and annoyed, and she needed to work that out on her own. All he had to do was listen and be supportive. The less he said the better.
“She’s just so infuriating! So perfectly proper and differential as she speaks down to you like an ignorant foal who can’t be trusted to wipe her own nose!” Cadence growled, spinning around and stomping back across the balcony.
That was the most articulate she’d been since he arrived, not that it helped him identify the culprit. There were any number of nobles he could name that acted much the same. It did take Celestia out of the running though, which was always good as far as he was concerned.
“And she knows something too.” Shining’s brow quirked at that. “She kept dancing around… something every time she spoke, like she knew the punchline to some grand joke but refused to share it.” Cadence stomped her hoof as she turned and began another circuit. 
“Cadie,” Shining spoke up for the first time in minutes. Cadence turned to see him with his foreleg held out to his side, inviting her to join him. She slumped and trudge over to flop at his side, leaning heavily against him and burying her muzzle in his neck.
He kissed the top of her head.
“I’m sorry about our vacation.”
Shining sighed, trying to not think about their plans. “It’s not your fault.”
“What are you going to do now?”
Shining shrugged. “Visit my parents I guess. It’s been awhile.”
“Oh,” Cadence said, her gaze falling to the floor.
Pulling his head back, Shining turned and look at Cadence. “Oh?”
“I was hoping that you would, you know, stay here.”
A chuckle rumbled out of his chest and shook the mare in his foreleg as he nosed her ear. “I’m not going anywhere, Mi Amore. Mother and Father are in Canterlot for the weekend.”
“Oh,” Cadence said again, her voice rising up with her head. 
As their eyes met, Shining bounced his eyebrows with a smile that he undoubtedly thought of as ‘sexy’, but could only truly be described as goofy. Cadence had no desire to tell him otherwise and only managed to cover her laughter by otherwise occupying her lips.
Two hours later, Shining’s forelegs held his Princess tight against his barrel as they lay stretched out on the balcony. Neither spoke as they recovered, both focusing more on the feel of the other pressed tightly against their coat.
With his chin resting in Cadence’s mane, Shining idly watched the horizon through the gaps in the balcony railing. As the seconds dragged into minutes, a frown began to form on his lips. Extracting himself, he stood, placing his forehooves on the railing.
“Cadie,” he said, his voice steady despite the uncertainty of his tone. “Cadie. Honey.” 
She stirred, slow to rise and join him, pressing against his side as she did so. “What is it, my love?”
Unable to find the words, he pointed toward Selene. 
Her pupils shrank, jaw falling open. “No.”



 — — — TCC — — — 



A cold breeze ruffled Chronicle’s mane, and he stirred. Rolling amid the pilled cushions, he searched for the missing warmth that had been his protection. Another breeze cut through his coat. 
Something was wrong.
A shiver of panic burned away the fog of sleep, opening his groggy eyes to a room filled with the shadows of night. As the haze cleared, Chronicle forced himself to calm,  working through his situation as best he was able. 
It was still evening, though the exact hour eluded him. He could still feel the warmth and smell the musk Star left behind; she was not long from his side. Standing, he found his vest on the floor and threw it on, buttoning it against the chill.
He blinked and turned toward the balcony.
The doors were open, letting the drapes dance in the cool mountain air. That was odd; he never left the doors open. Without really thinking, he reached out with his magic to close them, only to stop as his eyes fell on his desk and caught sight of the unfinished game of Stones. His field dissipated.
Giving his head a soft shake, he couldn’t stop the building yawn, nor the desire to stretch. The flexing of muscles eased the flow of blood even as it sent his joints popping. There was no getting used to the onset of age. With a soft nicker, he did his best to ignore it and plodded to stand just inside the wafting curtains.
“Star?”
“I am here.”
Sitting with his back to the balcony, Chronicle sighed through a small smile. “Describe it for me.”
“There are no words that would do the justice of your own eyes.” Chronicle did not respond to that, there was no need. “It is beautiful,” she went on. “The stars twinkle, almost dancing even as they remain in their appointed posts. They…” The pause caught him off guard, but not as much as the hardening of her tone. “Bookkeeper, you must see this.”
“Star—”
“Now.”
Reluctantly, Chronicle poked his head through the drapes, eyes never raising from the floor.
“Look up.”
Chronicle braced himself and followed Star’s instructions. Despite his lack of knowledge on the subject, he spotted the discrepancy instantly. Four stars moved quickly across the sky. Their destination was clear, bare seconds passing before they disappeared behind Selene. She flashed brightly, and when she returned to normal, the ancient shadow that had graced her surface was gone, leaving a pure silver orb in its wake.
For only the second time in his life, not a single muscle in his body quaked as he stood beneath the full glory of the heavens. 
A chime sounded from his pocket, his old watch ringing in the dawn that had yet to break.