The stallion held out several color swatches. “But which colors would you prefer for the festival, Your Majesty?”
Celestia fought back a sigh. “Top, we’ve been through this. You were placed into a team with Rarity and Herringbone for a reason. I trust in your abilities, so please go with what you think is best.”
Top Stitch glanced quickly from left to right before cupping his mouth with a hoof. “But that’s just it,” he said in a carrying whisper. “We’ve been arguing about this for days! Rarity insists that we need softer colors accented with brilliant sparkles. Herringbone will hear none of it. She wants big, bold colors with complimentary patterns. Honestly, I’m at my wit’s end!” The stallion hung his head for a moment before holding out the swatches again. “Especially since they are both obviously incapable of pushing the boundaries. Just think of it! The Autumn Color Festival, all in black and white! Why, it’s never been done before! We’ll make event history with two tones! With your approval, Your Majesty—”
“I’m sorry to interrupt, Your Highness, but this simply can’t wait. A pegasus mare in a crisply pressed uniform pushed the sputtering designer aside.
Celestia rose, halfway down the dais’s steps. “What is it, Vanguard? He’s something happened?”
Vanguard removed her helmet, holding it to her chest while standing at attention. “It’s what isn’t happening, Your Highness. The rank and file are having some difficulty with the changes you’ve set into motion.”
Celestia allowed herself a small frown. “Why do you think I have officers, commander?”
The pegasus fidgeted for a moment before answering. “Uh, well, to disseminate orders and execute them effectively.” Vanguard looked up, not quite meeting the princess’s eye. “But also to report back on problems within the enlisted, and… and to act as their advocate.”
Celestia briefly closed her eyes and lightly rubbed her temple. “Tell them that I’m very sorry, but the sweep must be done! If Tirek could have escaped, there is no telling what else might have be walking Equestria. Tartarus is vast, and it wasn’t empty when we discovered it.” Celestia pursed her lips. Did none of them understand the greater picture? “If creatures from the lower planes are walking the land, it’s vitally important that we find them before they have a chance to become a problem.”
Vanguard shifted from hoof to hoof, sweating lightly. “I’m not disagreeing, Your Majesty. It’s just that there are families to consider. Some of the guards haven’t been able to rotate out to see their loved ones for weeks now, and it’s stirring up some ill-will. If it hadn’t have been ordered direction after the rebuilding effort, I’m sure that—”
The door at the end of the audience chamber slammed closed.
“Your Majesty!” A dappled orange mare said through labored breaths. “Emergency dragon post!” Shouldering the soldier aside, Marmalade thrust the parchment into Celestia’s hooves.
Celestia broke the seal and unrolled the paper.
To Her Majesty, Princess Celestia,
It is with great urgency that we write to you. We have yet to hear back on our proposal that Las Pegasus be named the next host for the Summer Sun Celebration. Manehattan is beginning to move forward with preparations, and we fear that might sway your vote. The Las Pegasus city council is dedicated to fiscal responsibility, and therefore will not move forward with emergency spending when they’ve received no word from the crown. We respectfully request a meeting at your earliest convenience so that we can demonstrate why our city is the best choice for this cherished event.
Awaiting your word,
The Las Pegasus City Council of Elders
Celestia rested her throbbing head in her hoof. “When do I have an opening in my schedule, Marmalade?”
The mare fished out a worn day planner from her pack. “Well, not for several weeks, I’m afraid. I could cancel the talks with the griffons, but you know how touchy they can be.”
“No.” The pounding in Celestia’s head ratcheted up a notch. “Equestria’s diplomatic relations are more important now than ever. We need their cooperation in this search.” The princess glanced out a window and sagged back into her plush throne. It barely mid-morning.
Marmalade licked her hoof and turned a page, and then another. “Well, you’re going to have to cancel something. It’s either that or tell the council that you won’t be there for at least a month. Additionally, the Astronomer’s Guild has petitioned for audience again.”
Celestia opened her mouth, then snapped it closed again. Taking a few deep breaths, she willed herself back into practiced serenity. “Please re-inform them that Princess Luna oversees their guild now, and that all petitions should go to her.”
“I have, but they won’t listen,” Marmalade said with a shrug. “Parallax says that he didn’t build up twenty-five years of relationship with you to just start over again when some new princess shows up.”
“New?” Princess Celestia found herself suddenly on her hooves. Below her, the three subjects had taken a few steps backward as the word rolled through the audience chamber, rattling windows and shaking the floor. Closing her eyes, Celestia stood silently for a moment before seating herself once again on the throne.
Top Stitched inched forward with his hoofful of swatches. “I can see that you’re pressed for time, Princess. Just say the word on the colors and I’ll be out of your mane. Or I could just go with the black and—”
“Your Highness, the scheduled leaves—”
“So we could cancel your appearance at The Commerce Banquet next week, or tomorrow’s tour of the damaged—”
“Enough,” Celestia said in a quiet voice that left no room for argument. “I’ll—”
“Oh, no!” In a far corner of the room, something fell, followed by soft swearing. Celestia craned her neck to see over the petitioners. Halfway behind a pillar, Twilight grinned sheepishly and waved while magically repairing a broken vase. “Sorry,” she called out. “I hit it with my wing.”
Celestia felt something inside of her unclench. “I’ll be right back,” she said to the group.