It would be so easy. Just drop the information out the window. She knew that one of their lackeys would be waiting, watching. And then she would never have to fear for her career, or her family ever again. Jet Set and Upper Crust were truly among the worst of the worst when it came to Canterlot nobles.
Fleur was just a model. A very successful one, thanks to her alicorn-like structure, but ultimately just a model. But she had to play the terrible social game, and somehow, she’d been pressed into helping Jet Set and Upper Crust. And were she doing this to anypony else, she probably wouldn’t have hesitated.
But this was Fancy Pants she was doing it to. Her coltfriend, her special somepony, as cliché and terrible as that sounded. Maybe even her fiancée, if she had been reading his mood right, and she dearly hoped that she had, because she wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of her life with him. It wasn’t right. Fleur knew that the information that they had asked for wouldn’t destroy Fancy. But he would owe them a favour, and Fleur de Lis knew that they would collect eventually.
Fleur’s eyes tightened, and her horn lit up with a pink glow, snapping the window shut, and shoving the documents into a set of saddlebags that were laying by the door. Slipping them on, she exited her Canterlot apartment, and began the trek through the snow-laden streets toward the train station. Fancy was in Manehatten this week, and Jet and Upper knew it.
They thought that because she was unable to contact him that she would fold beneath their demands. But Fleur de Lis had not become the most successful model by being a pushover. And Jet Set and Upper Crust would soon learn what it was like to be on the receiving end of the unpleasant kind of social manipulation.
********
Fancy glanced up from his novel at the knock on his door. He hadn’t ordered anything, and it was far too late for housekeeping. Slipping his monocle in, he strode over to the door, and opened it.
“How may I help-Fleur?” he asked, staring at the model, who appeared ready to collapse, “what in the blazing devil are you doing here? You look like you ran from Canterlot through the snow to get here. No, never mind. Come inside, dear, you must be freezing.”
“Th-thank you, F-Fancy,” chattered Fleur, following after the stallion. It was only once she was seated in front of the fireplace in the room and had a warm cup of cocoa held in her magic that Fancy asked her what she was doing here.
“It’s about Jet Set and Upper Crust,” she said, watching as Fancy’s face crinkled up in disgust, “they are blackmailing me into giving them some compromising information on you.”
“And so what are you doing here, dear?”
“Not giving it to them. I have it with me. And Fancy?”
“Yes, dear?”
“I am terribly sorry if this is inappropriate, but I do want to say it. I want to wake up next to you every day. I want you to be mine, and if that is selfish, then let me be selfish.” Fancy was silent for a while, before his horn lit up, and a small package floated out of a side room.
“I had intended to give this to you when I returned, but given what you just said, I doubt that you’ll object to having it a little early,” said Fancy, passing the box to Fleur’s magical grip. She pulled open the box, and found a single, unadorned ring.
“Fleur de Lis, would you do me the great honor of letting me be your stallion, for now and for the future?”
“Of course, Fancy,” cried Fleur, tossing herself into Fancy’s embrace. In the morning, they would work out how to deal with the horrid ponies in Canterlot, but for now, it was just them.