Shining stood rigidly in front of the mirror as he adjusted the collar on his tunic. He had just taken a shower, combed his mane, polished his hooves, and was now donned in his full royal regalia – a bright scarlet jacket, laden with medals and ribbons, and bright golden epaulets. It was all quite a splendid sight, yet Shining knew it was merely a facade. The uniform now signified nothing to him now, other than an empty pretense of formality. As a soldier, he learned long ago, that it wasn't the uniform that was overly important, but the soldier beneath it – and he had proven himself a terrible soldier.
He had done everything he had always been taught to not do; he had betrayed his wife, his ideals, his country, and now he had even betrayed his family – his own blood. What sort of colt was he? The image that stared back at him from the mirror was not that of the once proud captain of the guard he had once been, but a shell of his former self; an adulterer, a turncoat, and a traitor.
Shining sighed.
How would he ever live with himself after all of this? It's one thing to be true to a virtue, but if one is not true to oneself, then what is that pony but a feckless, faithless coward? He does not even belong to himself, but to his passions, and Shining knew that, therein, was the path to destruction.
Still, before he fell into despair and resigned himself to his fate, he had seen one window of opportunity still left open to him. If he could convince Princess Celestia to see his sister as the traitor he knew she was, and unveil her sinister plots, he could safeguard the Princess's life and save Equestria. He still had his own crimes to answer for – he was complicit in all of this after all – but by this act he hoped to win his own redemption, and perhaps even his forgiveness from everyone whose life he had put in jeopardy by going along with his sister's quest for power.
As Shining finished, he turned around to see his wife, who still lay in bed peacefully dozing. She had been up most of the night sick, and she had only just fallen asleep about an hour before after taking a special potion to help her sleep. Shining initially was going to rouse her, but thought it better to let her rest – she was in no condition to go a funeral anyway.
There was something compelling, though, to Shining about the sight of his wife, soundly asleep and oblivious to actions transpiring around her, that pulled on some tender chords, deep within his heart.
“Oh Cadance, my love,” he whispered softly, sitting beside her. “I hope you will forgive me of the many pains I have caused you. If it were in my power to go back and right the wrongs I've committed, maybe I could have spared you from what's to come; but now I fear now that I'm on a course of destiny I cannot alter, and one that compels me to obey my own convictions, not for my own sake, but for yours – you who I hold most dear. But I am willing, perfectly willing, to do what is necessary to right those wrongs – even at the cost of my own life.”
He paused for a moment and looked out into the window.
“It's a sorry thing for a husband like me to have to make such a confession,” he said, getting up. “Indeed, if I were a real colt, I would have told you long ago, and accepted the forfeit of my errors.”
He shook his head.
“I know that you may not be able to forgive me for what I've done, but maybe this way, I can prove myself worthy of the love which you have so often shown me, and our unborn foal might have a father that it isn't ashamed of.”
Shining grimaced, allowing a single tear to fall down his cheek as he ran his hoof through her soft, tangled mane.
“Oh Cadance, beautiful Cadance, my one true love....farewell.”
He leaned close and kissed her forehead, before promptly departing out the door; his wife still peacefully slumbering.
~
In the main lobby of the Royal Palace, the air was alive with activity. Here and there, and all around, groups of ponies gathering in small groups; conversing as they helped themselves to a breakfast buffet which had been set up in the middle of the room.
In the midst of all of this, Shining felt himself unnervingly out of place. He was the only one, besides the guards, in uniform, and being unaccompanied, in an open area, didn't help any. Shining had always been mildly agoraphobic (growing up in a big city had made him properly paranoid of the dangers that lurked in open spaces), but besides his general feelings of unease, there was something gnawing in the back of his mind; some off-setting sense of danger.
He knew that the Princess was still unconvinced of his sister's intentions, but how much did she still trust her? He didn't know. Maybe, at the very least, he had aroused some mild suspicion in her mind that would ultimately lead Celestia to, if nothing else, keep her distance from her, but this was only optimistic wishfulness. The best he could hope for now was that he could keep his sister distracted long enough until he was able to alert the others of her plans, and put an end to this, once and for all.
Shining sighed as he scanned the room.
Shining knew his chances of success were low. If he could not alert the others, what would he do then? He had been mulling that over in the back of his mind for some time, and the options before him were very grim. He knew, though, that he could not allow Twilight to continue with her schemes, and if it came to it, he wondered if he would be able to stop her – even if it meant using the ultimate means...
It was a horrible thought, killing one's own sister, but what other options did he have? Twilight could not be allowed to succeed. Too much was riding on her plan now, and he knew that his sister was too determined to see it carried out. And with the fate of Equestria hanging in the balance, there was scarcely room for inaction.
Still, as much as he wished to stop his sister, the idea of actually killing her was something that Shining wondered he had the courage to actually to do. It was one thing to talk about plotting someone's murder, as he and Twilight had done many times in the past, but to actually do it with one's own hoofs...
He knew his sister fully capable of this, however. She had already proven that. Shining also knew that she was as manipulative as she was unforgiving. If she even whiffed the faintest scent of betrayal, he knew that his life would be over. It wasn't in Twilight's character, after all, to let anything hinder her from carrying out what she planned – even if it meant doing the unthinkable, which is why it was imperative for Shining to remain calm and not act like anything was amiss. The element of surprise was still on his side, he hoped, and with a little bit of luck, he reckoned that he just might be able to stop his sister before she was able to do any more harm.
Shining could only hope, but as he stood pondering what was to come, the sense of danger he had perceived earlier, only seemed to intensify. Dark shadows seemed to dance around in his mind, and the vague uneasiness he had felt earlier, suddenly turned to outright fear. It was no longer a case of hypotheticals – it was an inevitability. The time was drawing nearer, but nearer to what? To the end? But it had all just begun...
Shining breathed deeply as he shook his head. He couldn't stay here anymore.
The young Prince made his way to the far end of the lobby, casually passing by the crowds of ponies, until he reached a door, hidden discreetly in the shadows. The door opened to reveal a winding corridor.
It was a familiar route for Shining. As a cadet in the Royal Guards, it was one he had traveled many times before. It was a secret passage; one of many built into the palace that allowed guards to move freely to any location in the palace, quickly and discreetly, in case of emergencies.
Shining exited the corridor into the marble veranda, and looked out on the gray, dreary landscape. The rain was still falling in a light shower, and the wind was bitingly cold for summer. The sun was hardly visible through the thick, dark clouds overhead, and soft rumble of thunder still echoed in the distance.
The young colt sighed as he opened his left breast pocket and produced a cigarette. He placed the thin, rolled piece of paper into his lips, and used his magic to light the tip. Shining instantly felt the edge taken off as the hot, dirty air filled his lungs. He exhaled with a deep feeling of satisfaction, watching with a mild sense of ease as the smoke dissipated into the damp, muggy air.
Shining stared into the morning sky, trying to empty his mind of unnecessary thoughts, until he heard a calm voice behind him:
“Good morning.”
Shining instantly wheeled to his left to see a white mare with a purple mane striding over in his direction. It was the mare he had seen last night in the reception area – one of Twilight's friends.
“I hope I'm not interrupting anything,” she said, apologetically. “I just saw you come out and thought I would join you.”
Shining nodded.
“Be my guest...”
The mare took out her own cigarette from a pocket on her black dress.
“You mind?” she asked, holding it up.
“No, not at all.”
Shining held the tip of his up to hers until it had caught light.
“Thanks,” she said as she inhaled.
Shining looked over the mare as she stood by the balcony edge.
“Never took you for the kind of pony to smoke,” he remarked.
“I didn't take you for one, either,” she replied.
Shining smirked.
“I don't usually smoke,” he said. “Actually, I've been saving this one.”
“Oh? Any special reason now?”
“A funeral's a better excuse than others, I suppose,” he said, shrugging. “Live while you're alive, you know?”
“I guess you're right,” she said, taking another puff.
“What about you?”
“Oh, just a hang-up of mine I picked up when I was younger,” she replied. “I gave it up, though, few years back when I made my big break-through. It was considered unfitting for a fashionista of good renown to smoke, so I gave it up.. But every now and again, I just I like to blow one off. Old habits die hard, I guess.”
“Mmm, tell me about it...”
“And you?”
“Smoked my first in basic – didn't like it much. Smoked a few here and there, but not nearly as bad as others. To be honest, I can't really stand them,” he said, shrugging. “It's the smell, I suppose; could never get used to it...”
“You and everyone else, darling. You never really 'get used to it' – you just get to a point where you find it tolerable.”
Shining nodded.
“So, you're into fashion, huh?”
“That's right,” she said. “I make dresses. Maybe you've heard of me: I've designed several popular fashion lines that are all the rage here in Canterlot. Have you heard of this Spring's Folie à Deux style? That was mine.”
Shining chuckled.
“I'm afraid you're asking the wrong pony when it comes to fashion.”
“That's funny, I thought you have remembered my fashion expertise from your wedding – I made your wife and handmaids' dresses.”
The Prince shook his head.
“You'll forgive me for not remembering – my wedding is a bit of blur to me, for obvious reasons. That being said, I don't recall your name...”
“Rarity,” she said, extending her hoof. “It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance personally, Shining Armor.”
Shining bowed and lightly kissed her hoof.
“Enchanté.”
“My, my, somepony is very charming.”
“I do know a little something about how to treat a mare,” he said, standing back up..
“Well, I am impressed,” she replied, blushing. “Not many ponies can speak En Francais. It does you credit.”
“I should hope so; I speak Spanish to my Princess, French to mares, Italian to stallions, and German to my wife.”
“My my, somepony is a cunning linguist...”
Shining smiled.
“Well, you could say my tongue is well trained...”
Both Shining and Rarity's cheeks turned a shade of red.
“Terribly sorry,” he apologized. “But sometimes my tongue does get away from me...”
They both laughed, and Shining groaned internally. It was too early in the morning for this...
“I didn't take you for the kind of colt to use his tongue so idly,” Rarity said, batting her eyes.
“Neither did I,” Shining replied. “Though, truth be told, I am little rusty with it.”
“Practice makes perfect, darling.”
“So it does,” Shining said with a distant sense of seriousness. “So I hope you won't mind me probing some of your eloquent phrases.”
“It would be my pleasure,” Rarity said.
“You mentioned earlier you had created a fashion line... Folie à Deux, was it?”
“Madness of Two, yes,” Rarity said, nodding affirmatively. “It's my finest work yet.”
“Interesting name,” Shining commented dryly. “What made you choose it?”
“It's funny you should mention that,” Rarity said, her tone decidedly more interested now that they were discussing her area of expertise. “I wanted to choose something with a certain je ne sais quoi; something edgy, mysterious even. I designed the clothes with bold tenacity – using vibrant colors and bold patterns for both colt and mare – so that they compliment the other. A sort of avant-garde expression in style and pose.”
“Interesting,” Shining noted, wryly puckering his lips. “And was it based on any theme in particular?”
“Love,” Rarity said. “Or more precisely: passion. After all, love and passion are temporary madness, wouldn't you say?”
Shining felt a cold shiver run up his back. That statement landed a little too close for comfort.
“Yes, I can see...”
“And that's exactly what I tried to capture in my clothing – raw energy combined with trendy fashion sensibilities. And I pulled it off marvelously, if I do say so myself. It was a splendid success.”
“Congratulations,” Shining said. “What do you plan to do next?”
“You know, I hadn't really given it much thought,” Rarity replied. “I guess I'll start on a summer ensemble, but lately I've been feeling really uninspired...”
Shining arched a curious eye-brow.
“That's odd,” he said. “You seem full of ideas.”
“Well yes,” she said evenly. “But putting those ideas into reality is not always as easy as it sounds; and just because I feel passionately about something doesn't mean I always want to do it – or even that I enjoy it. Not that I don't enjoy it – I mostly certainly do. It's just that sometimes doing what you love takes a lot out of you...”
Shining nodded, acknowledging the truth in that remark.
“I can understand that,” he said, nodding. “May I ask you a question?”
“Sure, go ahead.
“In your line of work, have you ever posed with a difficult choice? One that made you choosing between what you loved and what you knew was right?”
Rarity shrugged, before looking thoughtfully off into the distance.
“I can't think of an instance off hand,” she said, pondering the question. “I guess everypony struggles between doing what they think is right and doing and what they want to do. It's those who choose the former, though, that we consider more more worthy, than somepony who acts selfishly, because they put the needs of others before themselves. In my own experience, I've always tried to act on my own principles, but as a business pony, you're not always afforded that luxury. Why do you ask?”
“No reason,” Shining said. “I've just been thinking something over in my mind.”
“Oh?” Rarity asked, her interest piqued. “Well, with not intention to offend, may I ask what exactly you've been thinking?”
“Oh, nothing really,” Shining said coolly. “I just seem to have found myself in a tricky situation, and now I'm wondering if I'll be able to do the right thing, even if it means hurting those I care for...”
Rarity gave a soft smile as she nodded in understanding.
“I know how you feel, dear,” she said sympathetically. “Sometimes doing the right thing doesn't always mean doing what is easy, or even pleasant. Sometimes we're forced into ordeals, but it's the ponies who suffer through those ordeals together, with steadfast resolve, who form the relationships that last.”
“I guess you're right...” he replied, meditating on those words.
“But whatever it is you're going through,” she continued. “I'm sure you'll make the right decision.”
Shining nodded.
“I sure hope you're right...” he said quietly.
They continued to smoke and chat idly until, a few moments later, the blaring of trumpets began to emanate from inside the palace.
“Sounds like the ceremony is getting started,” Rarity said, extinguishing her cigarette. “Best be getting inside.”
She headed for the door, but paused when she noticed that Shining had not moved from his position.
“Aren't you coming?” she asked.
Shining took one final glimpse of the landscape – the soft, obscured features of the distant hills and inhaled the fresh scent of the morning dew – maybe for the last time.
“Yeah...be right there.”
He threw away his cigarette and turned to the door that lead back into the main foyer, not knowing what to expect....