This Game of Mine

by Swan Song

7. Shadow Price

 
My hoofsteps echoed as I cantered upon the cobblestone roads of Ponyville. Ponies stared as I sped past them, their attentions drawn by the din of my harried passage, but for once I barely paid them any heed—there were far more pressing matters to worry about.

Of all the schemes she could have possibly committed to, it had to be the one that might divulge my secrets.

As I weaved my way between ponies milling about in the marketplace, the temptation to simply shove everypony aside was only barely kept in check by a distant part of my consciousness, shrieking at me to maintain a semblance of decorum.

After all, I had an image to uphold. I shan’t get careless.

I gritted my teeth as years of social training threatened to burst under the pressure of the panicked thoughts churning within my mind. Dozens of horrible outcomes flitted through my conscience, each worse than the one before.

Shadow Song’s identity might be compromised.

The support of my only friend could evaporate.

I could lose the respect of my family.

I may damage the connections I’ve made in service to my future.

As I shimmied through a queue in front of a market stall, an ache suddenly flashed through my torso. I winced, reminded of the blow I had sustained earlier today.

Sweetie Belle, you foalish girl. Had you simply controlled your impulses…

I slowed to a more careful trot, being cautious not to further stress my injury. The momentary pain quickly subsided.

Best I heeded my own advice—there was little to be gained from incapacitating myself before I could even make it there.

Up until now, I had mostly allowed pure habit to guide my passage. As I reduced my pace, I began to take note of my immediate surroundings, realizing that I had already made it out of the market and into the more tranquil streets of the Diamond District. A great deal fewer ponies generally occupied the wider walkways of Ponyville’s most affluent neighborhoods.

Good. I was getting close, and there wouldn’t be much hoof-traffic from here on out.

The realization calmed my nerves somewhat, reducing my mind’s panicked torrent of uncertainties to a more manageable trickle and allowing me to ruminate on my circumstances with more clarity. I needed to calm yourself. Rethink my situation.

The reporter’s involvement had been completely unexpected. I had been very cautious in revealing as few details as possible to the reporter during my interview, so it was unlikely that anything might compromise Shadow’s real identity. But he was a wild-card—I had no idea what role he might play, or how much it could impact me.

He was involved. There was no controlling that. The shot had been fired, and the bullet’s trajectory was set.

But if I knew where that bullet was going, I could situate myself to avoid it.

I grinned at the realization. I was in a position to gain valuable information, and steel myself for the future. This was my chance to ensure that I could eradicate any possibility of suspicion being directed upon me.

And if anything threatened my identity, I could reverse it.

I could do this. I was a master wordsmith. All I needed was to tell them what they wanted to hear. Make them think I was on their side.

All it took was the right words at the right time. All it took was a silver tongue.

After all, I held the spoon that fed them.

I turned to gaze upon my cutie mark, a reminder of my talents.

Reassured, I turned forward with a smile, and found that the much-needed boost to my confidence had come just in time. Before me rose a large iron-wrought gate, intricately-welded and accented with golden flourishes. Despite my utter familiarity with the sight, I couldn’t help but feel slightly intimidated, knowing the trial that awaited me beyond those bars.

But time was of the essence. I shan't tarry.

I put a hoof to the gate and applied a slight pressure. The telltale chime of a magical aura sounded from the other side as my identity was recognized, and the gate slid open slowly to allow me passage.

Without further hesitation, I strode briskly into the ornately decorated gardens of the compound. As I trotted through, my senses were overwhelmed by the lavishness of my surroundings—immaculately-maintained lawns, endless swirling rainbows of meticulously-arranged flora, stoic marble busts of revered ancestors, babbling ponds teeming with golden fish. All of this was merely accompaniment to the center attraction: a large palatial estate, styled by Canterlot’s finest unicorn artisans to resemble the City’s grandiose architecture.

The entire scene was equal parts beautiful and imposing, a testament to the power of the family that resided within. The knowledge that I would be facing that power head-on did little to assuage my reservations.

Nonetheless, I gathered my resolve and strode with intent towards the front doors… which opened just then to reveal a single diminutive figure emerging at its base, no doubt notified of my arrival by the magic that secured the front gate. While her flowing purple mane obscured much of her visage, she still fixed me with the icy-blue gaze of her one free eye as I approached.

She did not look happy.

“Silver Spoon,” said my best friend, in a cold tone that confirmed my observation.

“Good evening, Diamond Tiara,” I responded evenly, straightening my glasses with a hoof and freeing my silver braid from the pearl necklace on my neck.

“You’re late,” the filly replied with a biting tone, brushing a stray lock of her purple mane from out of her eyes. “What took you? It’s been almost an hour.”

“Your summons caught me indisposed,” I replied smoothly, stopping in front of her with a prepared lie. “Nature’s call cannot be ignored, after all.” Diamond quirked an eyebrow. “And I’m still rather sore from the hit I took from Sweetie Belle this afternoon. It slowed me down.”

“Whatever,” she said, waving a hoof dismissively and turning inside. “Come on, the reporter’s already here.”

Yes, Diamond, despite my injury, I was quite alright. Your concern was appreciated, as always. 

“Forgive me, but your summons were rather vague,” I said, putting a hoof on her retreating figure and causing her to shoot me a scowl. “If I may ask, what exactly is going on?”

“Just come inside,” she said impatiently, turning back around with a huff. “You’re smart, you can work it out as we go along.”

I felt my eye twitch in frustration, but conceded. Time was of the essence, after all.

Brooking no further argument, I silently trailed her inside as she strode swiftly past the velvet and oaken furnishings of the grandiose entrance hall, making a beeline to an archway on our immediate left, from which several soft voices emerged.

As we emerged into the brightly-lit sitting room, I noticed that several figures were already seated in front of the fireplace, which cracked heartily in stark contrast to the heavy atmosphere that befell the room’s current inhabitants. Diamond’s parents occupied the velvet couch on the other side of the coffee table, and both appeared quite engaged in a rather heated conversation with a frowning blue stallion in the armchair at the end.

This must've been Mister Noteworthy. I studied the stallion as we approached the table. He didn’t look very pleased to be here…

Mister Filthy Rich quirked an eyebrow at us as we settled into the armchair opposite the reporter, but Missus Proper Place seemed to barely even notice our presence, her attention fixed solely on the reporter.

“And why, might I ask, do you refuse my offer?” Missus Proper asked viciously, her tone crawling with barely-restrained poison.

“Because it’s wrong,” Mister Noteworthy replied as if the answer were completely obvious. “It’s defamation. It goes against the very code of ethics I swore to uphold when I entered this profession. I couldn’t do this for you, no matter how much you tried to butter me up.”

Oh dear. He was resisting.

I couldn’t help but admire the stallion for being so stalwart despite the intimidating aura that seemed to emanate from the mare’s very form. Alas, I knew that his valor would be misplaced. If there was anything to know of Diamond’s mother, it was that she was not to be trifled with, and that she always found a way to get what she wanted.

I wondered how long he would last.

“But it is the truth,” she replied dismissively. “The filly is a danger to everypony around her. With this, at the very least, the world would be warned of her true colors.”

“I disagree,” he said, mustering his confidence. “I’ve worked with her older sister before, and both mares have been nothing but pleasant on every occasion that I’ve come in contact with them, Miss Belle included.”

“So then why did she attack my daughter at school today?” Missus Proper said coldly, waving a hoof towards Diamond. “Surely there must have been some indication of her behavior.”

“She was perfectly cordial during my interviews earlier this week,” he replied with a shrug. “Something must have set her off.”

Missus Proper bristled at that remark. “Do you mean to imply that my daughter was at fault?”

Mister Noteworthy blanched. “N-no ma’am. Anything could have caused that behavior. I’m sorry for your daughter’s predicament, but I honestly couldn’t tell you what caused Miss Belle to do what she did.”

“I’ve already told you what the cause is,” Missus Proper said irritably. “Those violent video games she wastes all her time playing—they’re obviously brainwashing the girl into such brutish behavior. I’d almost pity her if it wasn’t something she partook in willingly.”

“It’s pure conjecture,” countered the reporter. “I’ve already done my research. Most studies agree that there is no correlation between video games and violent behaviors over the long-term. The only thing they create is short-term aggression, which is common in any competitive game or sport—”

“There, right there,” she interrupted. “Use that.”

“Excuse me?” He quirked an eyebrow at her.

“Aggression,” she echoed back to him. “Perhaps she was irresponsibly playing video games prior to her arrival at school. That would certainly explain both the incident in the alleyway this morning, and the fight that followed.”

“It’s short-term,” he clarified irritably. “It lasts as long as the user is engaged in the activity, and is usually only directed towards her opponents, or anypony who might interrupt the game.”

“The specifics are pure poppycock to me,” she said dismissively, “and likely to anypony else who might read your article. What I said is more than enough to go on. Use it.”

“Missus Proper Place, I’m sorry, but I’ve already told you,” he said angrily, standing up. “I absolutely refuse to be a part of this. I don’t care how much you pay me, but I am not going to ruin the life of a filly who just got her cutie mark in service of your petty revenge.”

“You will,” she retorted, “or I will ruin yours.”

With a flourish, she slammed a manila folder on the coffee table, causing everypony to jump at the noise and direct their attention to the photos and documents that had slid out upon impact.

That... was almost cinematically cliché.

“Do you remember last weekend?” she asked him with a devilish smirk. “I wonder what the good people of Ponyville would think if I informed them that it had been, ah… non-consensual?”

I turned incredulously to Diamond, only to find that she wore a grin that matched her mother’s. The effect on the reporter was immediate; it took only seconds for the blood to drain from his face as he beheld the folder’s contents. “You couldn’t possibly—”

“‘How scandalous!’” she cried, waving a hoof dramatically. “‘Forcing yourself upon a poor, defenseless mare like that! And a married mare, to boot! Oh, how could you be so bestial, so vile!’”

He shuddered, but glared up at her. “Her consent matters, not yours! Besides, she told me she wasn’t married! How would you even know—”

“You fool,” she spat, before bunching up her hair with a hoof. “That mare was me.”

…Oh my Stars.

A heavy silence befell the room as we processed this revelation. Barely comprehending what I had heard, I stood up slightly in my seat to examine the photos more closely, but there was a sudden sharp intake of breath to my right. Without warning my view was immediately obscured by the body of Mister Rich, who had swiftly moved to stand in front of us.

“Father!” Diamond shouted indignantly to the stallion that had blocked us. “I want to see!”

“No, Diamond,” he grunted, slamming a hoof above our heads upon the back of the armchair and locking us in place. “Believe me… you do not.” He flashed a look at me, as if daring me to defy him as well. I stared into his gaze, which, while commandingly hard-edged, also held a hint of… profound sadness.

I kept my face carefully neutral, but I made no move to push past him. It was obvious that I was clearly not meant to witness this, and any disagreeable act put me at risk of being ousted from this event.

Diamond, on the other hand, growled in response, but Mister Rich ignored her completely, instead turning towards his wife. “Proper… you didn’t…”

“I did, Richie,” she said evenly, a soft smile gracing her visage.

“How… how could you do this to us, to me—”

“I do only what is necessary for this family.”

“This?” He waved at the photos. “This is necessary for our family?!”

“Of course it is necessary,” she snorted derisively. “It wouldn’t be if you hadn’t interfered in the Headmaster’s office today!”

“This has nothing to do with what happened in the Headmaster’s office!” he spat bitterly. “This… I can’t believe you. What made you think this would help us?”

“Oh, it’s just something I wanted to keep tucked away, in case of a rainy day,” she explained, casually examining a hoof with a bored expression. “But I didn’t realize how quickly it would pay off! Of course, it wouldn’t be necessary if you hadn’t made such a cowardly mistake.”

“Mistake?! I was doing what I had to—”

“My actions were perfectly sufficient, thank you very much—”

“—in order to protect Diamond from you,” he snarled with finality, causing her eyes to widen. “Time and again, I have beseeched both of you to restrain yourselves, but it is as if neither of you know your limits! These conflicts escalate far beyond the realm of sanity.”

I glanced at Diamond… who had fallen silent. For once, I couldn’t read the expression on her face.

Mister Rich’s expression turned pleading. “Please, Proper. I implore you. This?” He waved a hoof at the photos on the table. “This is too far. If this goes on as it has, you will send the roof of this household crashing upon our heads. You cannot truly believe that—”

“Richie, dear,” she interrupted, her voice a sweetly acidic tone that sent shivers up my spine, “you don’t even know the half of it. This is nothing compared to the other things I’ve done in service to our family.”

Mister Rich froze at that, several emotions adorning themselves upon his expression, each more horrified than the last.

“I love you more than you know,” she said with a cold smile, trotting slowly up to him, “which is why it hurts so very, very much when I find my integrity challenged. I would be utterly heartbroken to hear that you no longer had faith in my ability to lead this household, or to do what is best for our little Diamond.” She extended a hoof, lightly caressing his chin. “Heartbroken, and so very disappointed.”

Without another word, she turned around, brushing his face with her tail. His expression contorted into a scowl as she did so, but he made no move to stop her as she bore down on the reporter, who had been watching the short exchange with a look of pure terror.

“Allow me to amend my previous offer,” she explained matter-of-factly, sounding to all Equestria as if she were merely reading off a grocery list. “You write that article, so that the world may know the true nature of that disgusting little wretch. In exchange, I shall reimburse you handsomely, as promised. Furthermore, I shall ensure that this rather, ah,” she waved to the contents of the manila folder, “sordid affair between us remains safely buried.”

She fluttered her eyelashes as her face came within inches of his, her countenance impressing the power she wielded with effortless ease. “Have I made myself clear?”

I winced as the mare brought her full might to bear against this unsuspecting stallion, the unbridled power of the mare that commanded the Diamond Estate.

Reminder to self: never, ever attract the ire of Proper Place.

The reporter, too far gone for my silent advice to save him, merely gulped as he sputtered his answer. “C-crystal,” he replied shakily, completely stripped of his former confidence.

“Lovely!” she exclaimed merrily, turning swiftly to the coffee table. “I’m ever so glad we could come to an understanding. In fact, I’ll even give you this—” she held up the re-sealed packet with a cheerful grin “—as thanks for a job well done. It’ll be like one of those theme park photos! A souvenir for… a ride worth remembering.”

His horrified expression clearly communicated his desire to do anything but.

With that, Mister Rich finally moved out of the way, allowing us full view of the scene that lay before us. Diamond reclined back into the cushions with a huff, while I stayed completely silent.

Mister Rich did not return to his seat, however. He gave his wife a strained look, before turning his gaze upon me.

“I’m not sure why you’re here, Silver,” he said in a quiet voice carefully devoid of emotion, “but I believe it is time for you to head home.”

Oh dear.

I quickly stifled the sudden burst of panic that shot through my mind. I couldn't afford to miss this.

“I apologize, Mister Rich,” I replied with a polite bow of my head. “I am here on the invitation of Diamond Tiara.”

“She did not ask me for permission,” he stated flatly. “And, quite frankly, these are family matters that you shouldn’t be—”

“I was the one who allowed Diamond to do so,” interrupted Missus Proper. “Silver Spoon was a witness to both events this morning, and her testimony will be most useful to us.”

Mister Rich opened his mouth to argue, but hesitated as a conflicted expression overcame his face, clearly unable to decide what to say or do in light of his wife’s earlier revelation. Silently, I marveled at how the stallion could keep his cool despite all that had transpired.

Eventually, his indecision won out. Without another word, he turned around and strode out of the room. I sighed in relief.

Thank the Stars. Disaster averted.

“Excellent.” She clapped her hooves together. “With that out of the way, let’s move on to details.” She pulled up a newspaper, which had been sitting beside her on the couch. “Now, you said that there are… six members in this little organization of hers?”

“Er… yes,” he said in a shaky attempt to recover from his stunned silence.

“And this… ‘Dovetail’,” she uttered the name in disgust, “is Miss Belle herself.”

“That is… correct.”

“Who is the gryphon?”

“That would be… Miss Freya Stormtalon,” he replied.

“Oh please,” she huffed. “We need not dignify those hawkish savages with an honorific. What do you know of her?”

“Nothing much,” he explained. “She excused herself before I could begin the interview, saying she had… sentry duty?”

“Sentry duty?” Madame Proper tapped a hoof to her chin. “So… she’s a soldier?”

“That’s perfect!” exclaimed Diamond, speaking for the first time that evening. “She’s hanging out with the bad guys.”

A wide grin broke out on the mare’s face. “Oh yes. Fraternizing with the enemy! Marvelous, absolutely use that. Quickly, anything else of note?”

“Er, the only other three present for the interview besides Miss Belle herself were Mash, Zaid, and Shadow. Stranger also departed.”

“What do you know of them?”

“Nothing of Stranger, aside from the fact that she appeared to be a unicorn. Zaid is apparently a horse from Saddle Arabia, a stallion whose actual name was something like ‘Zaeed’.”

“A stallion? Hm.” Madame Proper thought again. “They were all older than Sweetie Belle?”

“At least twice her age,” he explained, “with the exception of Button Mash, a local colt and one of Sweetie Belle’s classmates.”

“Ignore him, nothing useful there. But definitely play on the fact that she’s spending time with strange adults, and filthy Saddle Arabian mopheads to boot.”

I winced inwardly at the racial slur, as did Noteworthy. “Um…”

“What?” she glared at him.

“I… don’t think that kind of language would fly with my editors,” he noted sheepishly.

“Worry not, I’ll deal with that. Continue.”

How many strings could she pull…?

Oh. Wait. This was Proper Place we were talking about here. I shan’t bother wondering.

“Well, the last pony of note is Shadow Song.”

I felt my eye twitch, but otherwise maintained a zen-like state of calm. No need to draw attention to myself.

“And?” she asked him, quirking an eyebrow.

“Well, the most he revealed was that he lived within the Equestrian Heartland.”

“So… he could mean Canterlot, Cloudsdale, or Ponyville.” She huffed in annoyance. “That’s not very helpful.”

They weren't on my scent yet.

“Well, um, he was open to being interviewed, but refused to disclose too many details about himself or his life.”

“Then what in Equestria was the point?”

“I asked him of his motives for playing on the same team as Miss Belle, and he said she was an unstoppable force on the battlefield, and a capable commander with a keen tactical mind.”

“Hm. A stallion with military experience, perhaps?” There was a moment of silent thought. “What did you say his race was?”

“I didn’t. He’s an umbra.”

She raised a brow. “Pardon?”

“A pony of the night. He, er, had bat wings.”

“Well then! If he has military experience, does this mean he could be one of Princess Luna’s Royal Guard? Based out of Canterlot, perhaps?”

“Perhaps…”

That couldn’t possibly be further from the truth.

I couldn’t help feeling a certain kind of morbid joy watching the mental gymnastics that were playing out before me. Without even knowing that they’d be after me, I had already set them on a wild goose chase.

“Well, it’s worth mentioning that their in-game appearances don’t necessarily match up with who they are in real life,” Mister Noteworthy explained. “For example, Sweetie Belle’s character Dovetail is a white-coated terran—er, sorry, earth pony—with a messy red mane streaked with yellow, and she’s a bit taller than the filly is in real life. I can’t verify the accuracy of the other members of her team—it’s entirely possible that they aren’t anything like they appear.”

“So they could all be lying about themselves?”

“That’s entirely possible, yes,” the reporter confirmed. “Though they did often refer to Sweetie and Button using their actual names, and we know their identities to be real, at least.”

“Hmph. Well, the public doesn’t need to know how little we know. Perhaps we could make up some facts?”

“Er, I’d advise against that,” he replied. “Anything blatantly false would be obvious and damage the article’s credibility.”

“And we couldn’t just say that all of them are mysterious adults preying on children? Stars, perhaps this Shadow Song is some kind of sexual predator local to the area.”

I snorted, then clapped my hooves to my muzzle as I realized that all eyes had turned to me.

“Er, my apologies,” I said sheepishly.

“Is something funny?” Madame Proper asked, narrowing her eyes at me.

“I thought it would be entertaining if that were the truth,” I lied smoothly. “It wouldn’t speak highly of Sweetie’s ability to make safe decisions. Or smart ones.”

The mare’s eyes widened. “Clever filly. I knew there was a reason why I had Diamond invite you.”

I smiled. “You flatter me, Madame Proper,” I said with a bowed head.

“Definitely something worth using,” Madame Proper said to the reporter. “The girl is playing with fire—she has no idea what kind of shady characters these ponies might actually be in real life.”

“Perhaps, but I’d try to keep that line of thinking to a minimum,” he reasoned. “If we start questioning the unknowns too heavily, then the already-established identities might break down, like that of the gryphon soldier.”

“And that is entirely your responsibility,” said the mare lazily. “This is your job, after all. Simply do it right.”

“Er, yes. Of course.”

“Hmm. That being said, I don’t feel like this is enough. Would you be able to get more?”

“More… information?”

“Yes. Perhaps a repeat interview? Or maybe even tail the girl for a few days, see what she gets up to. Whatever it takes.”

“Er… I suppose I could…”

“In fact, try focusing on this Shadow Song character. He seems especially suspicious, and if he’s actually in the Heartlands, perhaps even in Ponyville…”

Oh dear.

“I don’t think he is,” I said simply.

“And why is that?” asked the mare, curious of my interruption.

 “Well, if he’s a member of Luna’s Guard, then he’s likely stationed in Canterlot,” I reasoned.

“But you heard the reporter yourself. He could be anypony.”

Think. Think quickly.

 “In that case, we can’t really be sure of anything he says, not even where he lives,” I reasoned. “If he’s trying to conceal his identity, I doubt he’d choose to play as an umbra if he was one in real life; that would make it too easy to identify him, since umbra aren’t exactly common in Equestria."

“That’s true. He may not live in the Heartlands, after all,” she pondered, and I nodded my head in agreement. “He may not even be a stallion, for all we know.”

…Oh dear.

”Hah!” chuckled Diamond. “As if any mare would want to be a stallion.”

“A fair point,” agreed her mother, much to Mister Noteworthy’s obvious chagrin, and my less-obvious relief.

Bravo, Diamond Tiara. Forever shall you be blissfully unaware that, on this day, you unwittingly snatched your best friend from the jaws of peril.

“I suppose that simply means it would be far too much effort to actually figure out his identity based on what we already know. Which I imagine is the case for this ‘Stranger’, as well.”

“I agree. She was completely absent from the interview, so I know nothing about her.”

Even I knew nothing about her. And I spoke to her on a near-daily basis.

Absentmindedly, I began pondering the identity of the mysterious unicorn, wondering what secrets lie on the other side of that stratoscreen.

Perhaps she was a distant pony from a far-flung land.

…Or perhaps she was somepony I know.

I turned slowly to my right, my eyes falling upon the filly that I called my best friend, who was currently watching the exchange with muted interest.

Hah. As if.

A soft snort emerged from my muzzle, which caused Diamond to meet my gaze with a quizzical expression. “What’s so funny?”

“Oh, nothing,” I said with a small smile. “Just a funny thought, that’s all.”

“Well then,” came the voice of Missus Proper, recalling our attention once again. “I suppose what we know will simply have to do.” She turned to us. “Girls, is there anything you two would like to add?”

“Oh, absolutely,” said Diamond, sitting forward. “Throw in the word ‘gaymare’. It’ll really drive the point in.”

“…Gay-mare?”

“It’s what she is,” Diamond explained. “Like, gamer, and mare, combined. Except it sounds like ‘gay-mare’, so it’s bad.”

Very mature.

“Er… how would I integrate it into the article?” asked Mister Noteworthy.

“I dunno, isn’t that your job?” she scoffed.

Helpful as always, Diamond. Please, allow me.

“Perchance it would work best as part of the title?” I suggested. “Something provocative. Something that preys on fears of the unknown or unfamiliar. ‘Dangerous Gaymares’, perhaps?”

“Or maybe, ‘The Gaymare Among Us’,” suggested the reporter.

“Ooh, I like it,” said Diamond with a grin.

“Magnificent ideas, girls,” said Missus Proper with an approving nod. “Anything else?”

“Nah, aside from the junk I told you about how she beat us up and stuff, that’s pretty much it,” said Diamond with a shrug.

“Very well.” Missus Proper turned to the reporter. “Do you think this is enough material?”

“Hmm.” He began shuffling through his notes, chewing his lip in thought. “Well, if I’m being perfectly honest, I don’t think so.”

“Oh?” Missus Proper’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “And why, pray tell, is that?”

“Err,” he flinched slightly at her gaze, and his mouth hung open slightly as he struggled to formulate the words under her sharp gaze. “Well… forgive me for saying so, but as of right now, most of what I have is conjecture, sprinkled with hyperbole. There are lots of very bold, very strong statements regarding the nature of a filly that is already very well-known by the people of Ponyville.”

Diamond Tiara snorted. “Isn’t that the point of this? To make them not love her.”

Oh Diamond, were it so easy.

“Err… eheh, well, it’s not quite that simple,” the reporter offered nervously.

“But it is,” growled Miss Proper, leaning towards him. “If you simply do your job, then it shouldn’t matter.”

As the reporter wilted under her gaze, I couldn’t help but eye Missus Proper curiously. Surely somepony such as her could recognize the validity of his point?

I cleared my throat.

“All things considered, I see where Mister Noteworthy is coming from,” I elaborated carefully as all eyes turned to me once again. “Unpleasant as it is to admit, Sweetie Belle is rather well-liked around Ponyville. It’s enough that most of the ponies in this backwater have already come to their own conclusions about her, and I can’t honestly see those changing easily.”

“R-right,” Mister Noteworthy said with an unsteady nod, regaining some of his composure. “They might not be persuaded to agree with us without more evidence.”

“The violent altercation at the schoolhouse isn’t evidence enough?” shot Missus Proper. "That is a rather serious affair, after all."

“It's enough, but it needs reinforcement,” he clarified. “After all, has this ever really happened with Miss Belle before? Most ponies might assume it's a one-time thing."

"Then all the more reason to make it public! This is a side of her that nopony has ever seen before. All the more reason to let the world know!"

“Yes, I understand that!” he desperately placated her. “All I’m saying is that… well, it could use more. Some primary sources would go a long way towards strengthening the argument.”

“Primary sources?”

“Statements from any parties who were present.”

“A quote from myself or my daughter wouldn’t do the trick?”

“Er, that might actually… hurt the argument more than help it,” he explained cautiously. “Since you’re directly related to one of the parties involved, it might even be seen as biased.”

“It’s not biased if it’s the truth,” Diamond muttered irritably.

Rolling my eyes, I turned to Mister Noteworthy. “Perhaps talking to the school could help?”

“A quote from an authority figure at the schoolhouse would do wonders,” affirmed Mister Noteworthy with a nod, jotting down more notes into his notepad. “And anypony else, as well. Anypony that isn’t directly related to those involved with the event itself.”

“How about the Town Guard?” asked Diamond. “The Captain was the one who ended up pulling Sweetie Belle off me.”

“A statement from the Guard explaining what happened would go a very long way,” said Mister Noteworthy, scribbling in his notebook with renewed vigor.

Curious. How much of that was his natural enthusiasm for his career… and how much of that was Missus Proper’s coercion?

You were a frightening force of social control, Missus Proper.

“How about witnesses?” he asked me. “Did any other students see the fight?”

“It was during lunch,” I explained. “Pretty much the entire school was there, and some of the teachers.”

“Then perhaps statements from any of the colts or fillies who saw it happen?”

“What of their parents?” suggested Missus Proper with a grin. “Surely they would have an opinion regarding these events.”

“That could absolutely work. Some might be worried about sending their children to school with someone who has violent impulses.”

“Doesn’t father have PTO meetings every Saturday?” asked Diamond.

“He does,” Missus Proper nodded. “I could simply attend in his place tomorrow afternoon. No doubt today’s events will be a hot-button topic. Mister Noteworthy, will you be available tomorrow to take down some quotes?”

“It’s unlikely I’ll be allowed in the chambers, but I don’t think they would be opposed to me being outside to ask questions afterwards.”

“Excellent,” said Missus Proper. “So all that must be done is for me to impress upon the other parents how volatile and unpredictable that little filly truly is.”

“Except our teacher is a total stick-in-the-mud,” groused Diamond. “She’ll totally take Sweetie Belle’s side.”

“It matters not. As long as we’re able to convince the majority of the parents present that she is a danger to their foals, it should meet our needs quite adequately.” Missus Proper turned to the reporter. “Shall that do?”

 “It should be,” he replied, standing up and replacing the fedora on his head.

“Well then!” she proclaimed with a nod, following suit. “I believe, for the time being, our work here is done. All that’s left is to set those plans into motion and get some results.”

“Of course,” replied Mister Noteworthy as the rest of us stood up. “And if you can think of anything further, simply let me know.”

“Hmm.” Missus Proper paused thoughtfully. “Actually, I do believe I have another idea.”

“Oh?” Mister Noteworthy quirked an eyebrow at her, and I couldn’t help but do the same.

They already had a solid plan. Honestly, it already seemed like overkill. What more could she possibly need at this point?

“Indeed, just some additional insurance,” she said with a nod, before flashing a look at us. “Though I believe it would be wiser for us to discuss it in a more private setting.”

“Aw c’mon, mother,” Diamond groaned.

“Sorry Tia, but some secrets must stay… secret, after all,” she declared with a devilish grin that left me completely mystified, though I did my best to not let it show. “And— I say, shouldn’t you be getting going, Silver? It would be unwise for you to return home too late.”

The pointed look she flashed in my direction made it clear that this was not a suggestion.

Considering everything I witnessed this evening, I should be grateful I didn’t wear out my welcome sooner.

“That is most true,” I said, bowing my head politely. “Probably best to return before the Sun sets, if it hasn’t already.”

“Indeed. But thank you ever so much for joining us this evening, Silver.” Her lips curved ever so slightly upwards. “Your contributions were quite elucidating.”

I returned her smile, and curtseyed once more for good measure. “You flatter me. It was certainly my pleasure.”

More than you could possibly know.

“Well then!” She cleared her throat softly, before stepping towards the archway, pausing only to wave a hoof. “Mister Noteworthy, if you would so kindly?”

“Of course.”

As they left, Diamond turned to me, beaming.

“This is way too exciting,” she said with a grin as she began trotting in the direction of the front door. “Finally, that brat will get what’s coming to her.”

“Indeed,” I remarked. “I’m very interested to see what he comes up with.”

“Yeah.” She pondered something for a moment, pausing as she opened the door leading outside. “I wonder what other lunatics that filly plays with though. Who do you think they are? Shadow and Stranger and stuff?”

Ah-ah-ah, couldn’t let you do that, Diamond.

“I’m certain they’re nothing special,” I lied effortlessly, trotting through the open door past her. “I mean, an umbra? A mysterious unicorn mare? Likely they’re just some boring breeders who want to make themselves seem interesting.”

“Hah! Probably,” agreed Diamond as I turned to face her.

Too easy.

“Still though, it’s kinda fun. It’s like we’re hiring an investigator to help solve a crime!”

I believe we were on the wrong side of the law for that analogy to work, Diamond.

“And I gotta say, you had some cool ideas too, Silver,” she smiled. “Mare, am I glad I invited you.”

I felt a little warmth fill my body at the sight of my friend’s smile.

But that was nothing compared to the sense of accomplishment I felt from successfully throwing her entire family off my trail.

“I assure you,” I said, putting a hoof on the filly’s shoulder. “I’m very glad you did too.”