//------------------------------//
// Epilogue 
// Story: A Crystal Facade 
// by bahatumay 
//------------------------------//


The Crystal Empire is safe again, thanks to me. It's been a few months since my release, now. I think they're almost done burying the bodies of the changelings. There were certainly enough of them. I kept the queen’s head, though, as a trophy. It’s in my closet, in another one of those airtight crystal bell jars. Garnet doesn't know I have it. 

Many of the crystal ponies remembered me. I could almost taste their fear, it was so strong the first time I appeared publicly. I gently suppressed it as I spoke. Habit, I guess. I claimed that I had been reformed, that my time in stone had changed my perspective, and I apologized profusely. I pulled up a little of the joy and adoration from when Sombra was killed, and a little of the relief from when I proclaimed victory over the changelings. I did what I do best: I manipulated them. 

I made it clear I'm here for advisory purposes only. I've proclaimed it myself that Garnet and only Garnet has a direct right to the throne, and I have no right nor desire to lead. I've publicly abdicated all my powers and station. 

My daughter never had the chance. Now, it's all on my son. 

He likely won't be alone for long. He's seeing a crystal pony mare, one of the scullery maids in the castle. He doesn't know I know. I approve, though. She is cute, even with the burns on her face from a kitchen-related accident as a filly. She has a good heart, she's kind, and she cares for her little sister on her own. I'm certain Twilight taught him that, to look on a pony's heart rather than on their outward appearance. I'm proud of him for that. 

I only wish I could say the same about me. 

Together, I'm certain they can help suppress the darkness their future foal will have inside. Even when we fought off the invasion, he was calm and restrained, striking only when needed. If this pattern keeps up, we may be able to breed the darkness out of our line completely. He's a good stallion, and he'll be a good father to his foals. 

Well, to the foals he knows about, that is. 

I don't know how I'll tell him that I'm pregnant, and I really don't know how I'm going to tell him it's his. He doesn't remember me manipulating his filial love and respect into pure lust for me, and he certainly doesn't remember the memory spells I put on him afterwards. Memory spells. On my own son. He won't remember rutting his own mother, thrusting hard into me and making me scream until my throat was raw. He won't remember reducing me to a quivering pile of mareflesh and then finishing once more for good measure on my mane, as if carnally claiming me as his. 

I'd say that's for the best, really. Though I'm proud of his prowess and how strong he's become—and I'm certainly not opposed to having him do it to me again—I wouldn't want to scar him for life. I don't even have a good reason for why I made him do it. I think it was just 'because I could'. 

But honestly, what more could you expect from me?

My name is Princess Mi Amore Cadenza, and I am a terrible pony.