“There had to be something.”
Twilight shook her head. “I told you, I didn’t see anything else,” she said, for the hundredth time. “It could have been anyone.”
Her father frowned, leaning back in his chair and rubbing a hoof against his temple. “No, Twilight, it couldn’t. There are only three ponies it could have been, and we need to know which before we have any idea how much trouble we’re in.”
“Maybe it was a housekeeper?” she suggested, with far more optimism than she felt.
“Not this late,” he replied, crushing the tiny hope she had left. “You said you heard them, right? Couldn’t you at least tell if it was a stallion or a mare?”
“It was just a gasp. Can you tell the difference from that?”
He gave her a knowing look. “Sometimes.”
Twilight snorted in disgust.
“I know,” he said, “not the time.” Night Light dropped his head into his hooves, and swore through clenched teeth. “Fuck.”
And Twilight let him vent. It wasn’t as though she had anything she could say to him anyway. Nothing would be able to make this any better. Instead she turned her gaze to the floor, scuffing it with a nervous hoof as she waited.
“Okay,” he said eventually, “I’m going to talk to Velvet. If she saw us, she’s not going to be able to hide that. She might not even try.” He took a deep breath. “But that’s probably the worst case scenario.”
“And what should I do?” Twilight asked.
“Nothing,” he replied. “Not tonight, anyway. I can easily talk to Velvet this late, but you can’t exactly waltz into Shining and Cadance’s bedroom and start throwing questions at them. We’ll have to talk to them in the morning. Individually, if we can.”
“So I’m supposed to just sit around until morning?”
Night Light nodded slowly. “I know it’s not ideal, but-”
“Not ideal?”
“Twilight, just-”
“Not ideal? Someone saw us, Dad!”
“I know.”
Twilight stomped a hoof in frustration. “Then how can you be so calm?”
Her father’s expression hardened in anger, so quickly and so completely that he actually scared her a little. “Because right now that’s the only thing that’s going to help. We were stupid, Twilight, but I’m not letting one mistake ruin us. Panicking like a little foal isn’t going to fix this.”
He took a step towards her, and Twilight couldn’t help but recoil slightly at his sudden movement. As soon as she did, the fury drained from his face, replaced by a look of utter helplessness.
“I’m sorry, kiddo,” he muttered, reaching out for her again, more slowly this time, gently stroking her cheek. “I didn’t mean to shout.” Night Light pressed his head against hers, dropping his voice to a whisper. “But everything’s going to be okay, I promise.”
And even though they both knew he was lying, Twilight appreciated it all the same.
***
The bedroom was deathly still, save for the loud ticking of the grandfather clock against the wall.
Tick. Tick. Tick.
On a normal night, Twilight would have barely noticed it. Now, though, it was almost deafening in the otherwise resounding silence.
Tick. Tick. Tick.
Incessant. Inescapable. Infuriating.
Tick. Tick. Tick.
Twilight sighed, and tried to sink even deeper into the voluptuous mattress. She’d known it was going to end up like this. As soon as Night Light had told her to wait, she’d known. Imagining the hours passing so agonisingly slowly had been bad enough, but knowing it was coming hadn’t made living it any easier. Every time she closed her eyes in the vainest of hopes that she might get some semblance of sleep, instead of darkness Twilight saw silhouettes, peering at her from behind half-closed doors.
Tick. Tick. Tick.
Her father had walked her back to her room, at least. He’d paused awkwardly outside after saying goodnight, clearly wanting to say more but unable to find the words for it. Especially out in the open. Twilight wanted to lunge and hug him tightly, to feel his lips against hers, his body warm and comforting and safe. Instead she’d settled for a light kiss on the cheek; a daughter’s kiss. Not a lover’s. Night Light had smiled weakly, and watched her go right up until the door closed between them and shut him out. It was obvious how badly he’d wanted to come in too, to spend the night with her instead of having to confront his wife, alone. Twilight could understand his reluctance, but she still would have swapped with him in a heartbeat if offered the chance.
This waiting was her own personal hell.
Tick. Tick. Tick.
Thinking about it (and thinking was all Twilight had left, now), she couldn’t decide which of the family would be the worst to have uncovered her tryst. She didn’t believe for a moment that any of them would understand or accept it, not even Cadance. The Princess of Love might even be inclined to tell Celestia if she’d seen them, and then…
It didn’t bear thinking about. Twilight’s entire life, everything she had, stripped away. And here she was, sitting alone in bed and waiting, with so much on the line.
Tick. Tick. Tick.
And then there was that damn clock.
Tick. Tick. Ti-
Twilight’s horn blazed, and she screamed in anger and frustration.
“Shut up shut up shut up shut up!”
The clock-face exploded, sending shards of glass and twisted clockwork cascading down around her. Twilight sank back, her magic fading along with her anger as she surveyed the wreckage. She shouldn’t have done that. She really shouldn’t have, and yet it was so cathartic that she’d do it again if she could. And at last, the room was quiet. Now there was nothing but her own breathing, and the slowly quieting thump of her heartbeat. Another burst from her horn shunted the clock remnants on the bed to the floor. She’d deal with it in the morning. Twilight had a lot to deal with then, one more problem wouldn’t hurt.
But as soon as she allowed herself to relish the silence that had settled like a blanket, it was broken by the crackle of more magic. Above her, a small, folded piece of parchment popped into existence and dropped lightly into her lap. She knew there was only one pony that could have sent it, even if she hadn’t recognised the deep blue glow which had brought it to her.
It took Twilight a couple of attempts to open it, her hooves were shaking so badly. Two words were written in a hurried scrawl, and as she read them – and then re-read them just to make sure – her heart seemed to both jump and sink at exactly the same time.
She dropped the note, letting it drift to the carpet in a lazy spiral as she fell back and stared at the ceiling. Tomorrow would be hard, impossibly so. Twilight turned to the empty space beside her, wishing more than anything that her father could have been there, that she could tuck herself against his chest and he could lie to her again in the way that made her almost believe him.
A shaft of moonlight through the curtains illuminated the parchment on the floor, the pitch black ink seeming somehow even darker in its pale glow. Two words.
Not Velvet
***
Twilight rubbed a hoof frantically against the page, cursing her luck under her breath. She was going to be in so much trouble. What would Celestia say when she saw the wax smears on the prized books she’d let her pupil borrow? Nothing good, Twilight was sure of that.
It was the candle’s fault. It had to be – it had melted far too quickly. There was no way she’d been studying for that long, was there? Twilight gazed forlornly at the book. A Complete and Comprehensive History of the Kingdom of Equestria and its Outlying Territories, and the Townships Therein. She’d started at the first alicorn ascensions, and had just reached the signing of The Third Unicorn’s Statute of Magical Restrictions and Responsible Spellcasting (with explicit regard to the practical applications of transmutation, transformation and teleportation) when the loud splat of wax against paper had interrupted her. And just as it was getting good, too.
For a moment Twilight considered magic, but levitating liquids was still far too difficult for her. Even as thick as the wax was, she didn’t dare risk ripping the page accidentally. No, this called for the old-fashioned approach.
Paper towels and hope.
Twilight snuffed out the candle, and pushed her door open as quietly as she could. The hall was dark, but a warm yellow glow from the bottom of the stairs served as a reminder of how easy it would be to get caught. Cadance had sent her to bed a long while ago, and getting caught by her babysitter was the last thing Twilight wanted. As much as Twilight loved her, the princess could be really scary when she was mad.
And so she crept downstairs, sticking close to the wall and muffling her hoof-falls as best she could. Twilight knew which steps to avoid (Shining had shown her which ones creaked the loudest when they were much younger), but a couple still made particularly loud squeaks when she put her weight on them. Each time Twilight froze, sure that Cadance was about to peer out through the sitting room doorway. She never did.
Twilight allowed herself a sigh of relief as her back hooves left the stairs. Fortunately, she didn’t have to cross the sitting room doorway to get to the kitchen, or Cadance would surely have seen her. Instead she was free to grab the paper towels off the kitchen side without any trouble at all, and was just about to begin the arduous task of sneaking back upstairs when a voice from the sitting room stopped her.
Cadance was talking to somebody.
Twilight’s first, panicked thought was that her parents were home. After a moment of utter fear, her rational mind kicked in and assured her that Velvet and Night Light were away for the weekend and wouldn’t be back until tomorrow evening. There was no way they’d be home so soon.
So then, who was she talking to? Cadance giggled softly as Twilight listened. Another voice, quieter. Lower. Masculine.
Shining.
Oh, that was completely unfair! Just because her brother was a few years older he got to stay up late? She wasn’t a foal anymore, she should be allowed to stay up with them as well! Her wax emergency completely forgotten at this newly discovered injustice, Twilight stormed back towards the sitting room. If they were going to stay up late, they’d have to let her do it too.
Twilight never made it into the room. She stopped dead on the threshold, unable to hold back a gasp. Of course Shining and Cadance heard her, breaking apart in surprise. There was a long silence. Cadance was the first to break it, trying and failing to give Twilight a reassuring smile.
“Twilight, it’s… It’s not what it looks like.”
It was exactly what it looked like.
***
Twilight kicked a small pebble and watched it skitter across the platform before dropping over the edge and out of sight. Beside her, Cadance frowned.
“No need to be too enthusiastic,” she said, as Twilight sighed and sank lower on the bench. When Twilight turned to her she smiled, all traces of sarcasm dissipating instantly. “You don’t have to come if you don’t want to.”
“No, I do,” Twilight lied. Getting out of the house was almost worth it – the manor had become suffocating – but she was dreading everything that came with it. When Night Light had suggested talking to Shining and Cadance in the morning, Twilight hadn’t imagined she’d be doing it alone.
Yet here she was, sitting with the Princess on the train platform, waiting for it to whisk them away to the nearby town and still with no idea whether it had been Shining or Cadance herself that had peered through the door last night.
At the very least Twilight had hoped it would be obvious, but even that faintest hope had turned out to be in vain. When the newlyweds had come down for breakfast, they had both acted so… normal. Twilight and Night Light could only exchange nervous glances, wondering how they could possibly pretend to be so calm when they could shatter the entire family with a single sentence. Whoever it was, they were very good at acting innocent, and unfortunately that didn’t narrow it down at all. Her brother was the ex-captain of the Royal Guard, and Cadance was a princess. The idea that either of them could hide it, even something like this, didn’t surprise her that much. What surprised her was that they wanted to.
Maybe they were just biding their time, she thought gloomily. Waiting for the perfect moment to tell everyone and ruin everything Twilight had wanted so badly. Maybe they were trying to decide how, maybe they couldn’t really believe what they had seen.
Cadance tried again to spark up some conversation. “Well, I think you’ll enjoy it once you’re there. It reminded me of Ponyville.”
Twilight managed a half-hearted smile. It didn’t seem to work, and when Cadance next spoke all the levity had gone from her voice.
“Okay, listen,” she said. “We need to talk.”
Twilight froze. In fact it almost felt literal, an icy chill of dread crawling over her skin and making all her fur stand on end. Her heart plummeted through her chest, and for a moment Twilight was terrified its newfound weight would shatter her.
It was Cadance.
Of course it was. Their conversations must have made her suspicious, and now she knew everything. That’s why she’d pulled Twilight out here, to get her alone to confront her, all while Twilight thought she was doing the same to Cadance.
The princess kept talking, though she sounded oddly muted against the blood rushing through Twilight’s ears.
“I thought it could wait until we got there and you were feeling a bit better, but I guess not, huh?” Cadance paused, waiting for a response that never came.
And really, what could Twilight have said?
It wasn’t what it looked like.
She’d never been good at lying.
Cadance took a deep breath. “I was-”
“Good, you’re still here! I was worried you’d already left.”
Twilight jumped at the sudden interruption, her mother stepping up onto the platform behind her. Suddenly Cadance was all smiles again, like nothing had happened, and Twilight wondered again how she could act so innocent while knowing so much.
“Hi Velvet,” she said brightly. “Did you want to come along too?”
“I thought it’d be nice for us to have a mare’s day out,” Velvet replied. “You know, get away from-” She caught herself. “Well, get out of that house for a bit. As long as you two don’t mind, I mean.”
Twilight glanced desperately at the princess.
Please say no please say no
“Of course not, you should have said something earlier!”
Velvet beamed and settled herself on the bench next to Cadance, before launching into some mindless small talk. Twilight felt like she was going to be sick.
This entire vacation had been nothing but lies from the start, and not just from her. Her parents’ marriage had been falling apart long before Twilight had reopened that wound, and now Cadance was showing just as much of an aptitude for deception as the rest of them. Velvet had let the mask slip once, in Twilight’s bedroom, but now it was firmly back in place and everyone was tiptoeing around their conversations, talking about nothing and how nice the weather was and didn’t Cadance’s mane look lovely today and shoving everything that mattered under the rug in the hopes that no one would look too hard. But no matter how hard they pretended, it wouldn’t be the reality.
Twilight was just as bad as the rest of them, her secret the dirtiest of them all, but she couldn’t do what they did. Not as well, anyway. She didn’t want to play along with this facade of a happy, wholesome family, she just wanted to be with Night Light and to never have to worry about hurting anyone, or hiding it from the world. Twilight didn’t want to be ashamed of what they had. She wanted to embrace it and hold it close without fear of being judged, but she knew exactly how foalish that fantasy was.
And now Cadance had seen them, and the lies would have to continue in front of Velvet until they had a moment to themselves and the Princess could bring Twilight’s world crashing down around her.
Velvet laughed loudly at some joke that Twilight hadn’t been paying enough attention to. It was well hidden, but Twilight could hear the slight strain in it, too loud with too little humour. More acting. As the train pulled into the station, she wondered what would happen when everyone else grew tired of pretending too.
***
“Shining and Cadance sitting in a tree, K I S S I-”
“Twily, please!”
Twilight cackled. It had never been easier to wind her brother up, and she was relishing every moment of it.
“This is serious, Twilight,” her brother protested.
Oh, now she knew he was upset – he’d used her actual name.
Twilight had fled back to her bedroom, ignoring Cadance calling for her to come back mostly out of shock. Running was the only thing she could think to do. Back in the safety of her room she’d managed to calm herself a little, and by the time she heard the plodding hoofsteps of her brother coming up the stairs Twilight’s initial surprise had turned into a strange mix of confusion and disgust. She hadn’t really ‘got’ the whole boys thing yet, though she understood it was something that would probably happen at some point, and she already didn’t find them as gross as she used to. And of course neither her BBBFF or their babysitter had ever been gross, but the idea of them kissing…?
And Cadance was three years older than Shining, too.
…
Ewwwwww.
Her distress had quickly turned into delight, however, when she realised how susceptible he was to being teased about it. At the slightest comment Shining would turn bright red, his ears flattening against his head as he pleaded with her to stop. It was almost too easy to be entertaining. Almost, but not quite.
“Look,” he said, finally fed up with her mocking. “I know you might be a little too young to understand, but-”
“Am not!” insisted Twilight.
Shining nodded. “Okay, you’re not.”
She’d always loved that about her brother. He never treated her like she was stupid, and he agreed with her now without any hesitation.
“But you really can’t tell anyone,” he said. “Not even Mom and Dad.”
“Why?”
“Because.”
She scowled. “That’s not an answer.”
Her brother gave her a hard look, biting his lip in nervous frustration. “Because Cadance is a princess,” he said eventually.
“But she’s our babysitter.”
“That doesn’t make it better. And there are rules for princesses, Twily. I’m definitely against them.”
“What kind of rules?” Twilight’s book obviously hadn’t got to that part yet. She was pretty sure she would have remembered the section on princess kissing rules.
“You know, like… Like they can’t kiss commoners and stuff. It’s a reputation thing. Just because Dad’s in the royal guard doesn’t mean we’re allowed to.”
Twilight frowned. “Who gets to decide who other ponies are allowed to kiss? That sounds like a stupid rule.”
“Yeah,” agreed Shining, “I think so too.” His smile faded, and his face turned serious again. “So will you keep it a secret?” he asked. “For both of us? Hell, especially for Cadance.”
Twilight could see the creeping desperation in his eyes, the slightest quaver in his voice. She’d known her brother for so long, and he was the only pony she could read this well; she knew when he was scared. She could tell how nervous he was, how despite his attempts to be calm he was trying his hardest to keep himself from shaking. And when he was talking about Cadance she had seen how much he cared about her, how even now he was doing this for her, not for himself. She could only imagine how shattered he’d be if he couldn’t see Cadance anymore.
And even with all that aside, Twilight didn’t want her to have to leave either.
“Of course I will,” she said, and the instant relief that washed over her brother’s face made her grin.
“Thanks, Twily.” He shook his head. “I didn’t want you to find out this way, but I promise it won’t happen again.”
And he was true to his word. From then on, to everyone including Twilight, Shining and Cadance put on the perfect act, never seeming to be anything more than close friends. They kept it up for long enough that even Twilight began to believe it, the one brief memory all but forgotten as time went on. It wasn’t until she received their wedding invitation, all those years later, that she remembered. And no-one else but her could ever know just how long Shining and Cadance had been in love, and how well they’d kept it from the world.
***
Twilight groaned quietly as Velvet and Cadance came to another stop by another ‘quaint’ store on the street so they could stare through the window and chatter excitedly. She understood that they were both used to Canterlot, but when Cadance had said the town reminded her of Ponyville she hadn’t been kidding. Haystead could have been a perfect copy, and Twilight was finding it harder and harder to pretend to be engaged.
With the weight of what she had to do hanging off her, it was almost a kind of torture.
She needed to get Cadance alone, to talk everything through away from her mother’s ears, but as the day went on and her legs began to ache and Velvet and Cadance gave her no opportunities to do so, Twilight began to wonder if the chance would ever present itself. In some ways, returning to the manor without success didn’t sound so bad; she’d be able to talk to Night Light, and then they could talk to Cadance together. The Princess might be more understanding if they were both there to explain.
Explain? Explain what? That you’ve been fucking your father for the last few days and neither of you want to stop? How could you make that seem any better?
Twilight wasn’t sure she could. But Cadance was the Princess of Love, and the more she thought about it the more she convinced herself that if anyone else would ever understand them, or at the very least accept them, it was her. Perhaps acceptance was the best she could hope for.
Likely even that was too much.
But one thing was for certain – she was sick of waiting. Waiting had never helped her. Twilight was going to grab this by the proverbial horns and tell Cadance everything. Then she was going to swallow her pride and ask for the princess’ help. If it came to it, she’d beg Cadance to keep it to herself, to add another pony to the list that had to hold Twilight’s secret inside them, no matter how poisonous it might be. Keeping it had almost ruined Twilight, and then it had almost ruined her father. Maybe it had ruined them. It was a cruel thing to ask her sister-in-law, Twilight knew, but she’d ask it anyway.
Assuming, that was, that she could tear Cadance away from Velvet long enough.
Considering the Princess had been the one that had dragged her out so far from the manor – and had even told Twilight she wanted to talk – it was unbearably frustrating how complicit she was in keeping Velvet with them. The princess didn’t seem to be trying to find any opportunities to get them alone, apparently set on torturing Twilight as long as she could.
No, that was unfair. It was more likely that Cadance was happy to put the inevitable off for as long as she could, and Twilight couldn’t really blame her. She couldn’t imagine how it must have felt to come across them that evening, Twilight panting heavily into the mattress as her father drew himself out of her, finally relinquishing his grip on her back that he’d held so tightly while he’d-
She shook her head, dismissing the thought too late to stop a faint warmth from spreading through her cheeks. Her tail flicked absentmindedly, and she quickly glanced around the quiet street to make sure no one was looking. She would have to watch that in future. It was all too easy for those thoughts to run wild.
But Cadance definitely wouldn’t look back on that memory with the fondness (and other things besides) that Twilight did. Twilight remembered the surprised gasp, and how much weight even that simple exclamation had carried. She remembered the pure shock and horror in it, if nothing else. This was not going to be easy.
But then, when had it ever been?
“This was a good idea,” said Velvet, sighing happily at the sun on her face.
“I’m glad you think so,” replied Cadance. “Shining wasn’t quite so enthusiastic the last time we were here.”
Twilight trailed behind them, scuffing her hooves as she walked, head hung low.
“He’s not the only one,” said Velvet meaningfully.
Twilight ignored her.
“It’s funny though,” her mother continued. “Shining said I should come with you two.”
“Sounds like he got it right,” said Cadance, smiling warmly. “And you haven’t even seen the tower yet. You can see the whole town from the top of it!”
“O-oh?” Velvet’s voice was suddenly filled with uncertainty, and it all clicked into place. In fact, now it was nothing short of obvious.
Her mother was terrified of heights.
She always had been, and Cadance must have known that too. This had been her plan all along. No wonder she’d been so willing to go along with Velvet – the perfect excuse to talk to Twilight alone was waiting just around the corner the whole time.
And it was one hell of an excuse. As they moved into a cobbled stone square the tower loomed into view. If Twilight had been paying less attention to the ground and more to her surroundings she undoubtedly would have seen it earlier, its giant clock face proudly proclaiming the time to the whole of Haystead. It dwarfed the thatched buildings below it, made of an intimidating red stone that seemed entirely out of place by comparison, snarling stone griffons dotting the corners and sneering down at the square below.
“Isn’t it great?” asked Cadance cheerfully.
Twilight stared at the bleak facade with dread, as beside her Velvet swallowed.
“It’s certainly… tall,” said her mother.
“It turns out,” Cadance continued, apparently oblivious to the other ponies’ reluctance, “that Haystead used to be an old griffon town, full of buildings like this. The clock tower is the only thing that’s left nowadays.”
Wait for it…
“So,” said the princess. “Do you want to go up to the top?”
Velvet grimaced, staring upwards. “You know, I think I might sit this one out. I’m not sure I can face all those steps right now.”
Wait for it…
Cadance put on a perfect show of sympathy. “Oh. Well, if you’re sure…” She turned to Twilight. The kindness in her eyes stayed for a moment, lingering, and then it melted away and when she spoke next it wasn’t really a question. “Twilight?”
There it was.
Twilight hesitated for just a moment, before she resigned herself to her fate. “Sounds great,” she said, her voice sounding empty even to herself.
And then the hard look was gone and Cadance was the epitome of innocence once more. “Okay, then I guess we’ll see you in a bit Velvet. There’s a lovely little cafe just over there we can meet you at afterwards,” she said, pointing with a hoof. “I’m sure we won’t be too long.” Cadance didn’t sound sure at all.
They said their goodbyes and headed over to the clock tower, Twilight’s hooves seeming to get heavier and heavier as she walked.
“Mind your step,” said Cadance, as they slipped through the doorway and into the cool interior. “The stairs are really narrow, and it’s a long way to fall.”
Something told Twilight that was the least of her worries.
***
It was a long way down.
When they’d first reached the top, Twilight panting heavily and out of breath, she’d made the mistake of looking too far out over the edge and had to stumble back at a sudden wave of vertigo. Far above them still an enormous bell hung, unmoving, its bulk far too heavy for the wind to push even slightly. There was something strangely ominous about it, how something so huge suspended like that could be so completely still. It seemed almost trapped in time, mid fall, and Twilight was seized with the irrational fear that if she looked too hard at it the bell would suddenly drop, and the last thing she would ever see would be that mass of metal plummeting towards her so quickly she wouldn’t even have time to scream.
Cadance had certainly picked a dramatic spot to talk.
And yet now they were here the alicorn seemed reluctant to speak, staring out over the town as Celestia’s sun began its slow descent in the distance. That was okay, though. Twilight had already decided that the best way to tackle this was head on, without hesitation. If she hesitated it would look like she doubted herself, an admission that what she felt was wrong. No, she had to own it, and everything that came with it. That was the only way she could make Cadance understand.
“I love him,” Twilight said to the air. It was easier not to look at Cadance, far easier to stare at the empty blue of the sky than at the princess next to her or the hanging bell above her or the tiny shape of her mother sitting outside the cafe so far below. “I really do.”
Out of the corner of her eye, she could tell that Cadance was watching her, but Twilight wasn’t finished yet.
“And I know you probably don’t understand,” she continued, “and that you think it’s wrong, but I can’t help it.”
“Twilight…” Cadance began, but Twilight interrupted her. The floodgates had opened now, and there was no stopping her.
“But I don’t care!” Her words took on a newfound vigour, as Twilight’s fear melted away to be replaced with the same fiery resolve that had convinced her to confess to Night Light in the first place. This wasn’t wrong, it couldn’t be. Surely it couldn’t be wrong if she yearned for him that much, if he needed her as much as she needed him. “I tried to stop myself, but I couldn’t. I tried so hard but it felt like it was going to rip me apart from the inside out. I tried to keep away but it wouldn’t let me.” Twilight was crying now, and she didn’t really know why. She didn’t even realise she was until she felt the warm tears rolling down her cheeks. “So isn’t that love?” she asked, desperately. “It has to be, right? If I tried and it wouldn’t let me choose not to?”
And then Cadance’s hooves were around her, holding Twilight tightly to her chest as the unicorn sobbed into her fur.
“Oh, Twilight,” Cadance murmured, and Twilight hated the pity in her voice. But at the same time her embrace was so comforting, warm and unyielding, and it felt so good to have someone else to share everything with. She had Night Light, of course, but this was different. Even with Night Light it was a burden, their burden, their secret. Something so wonderful that they had to hide in the dark for when they were alone, but now Cadance knew and instead of pushing her away she held Twilight even closer, showing no signs of relinquishing her hug until Twilight was ready.
“I was worried something like this would happen,” the princess said, and now Twilight did pull away, rubbing away the last of her tears with a confused expression.
“That’s why I wanted to talk to you,” Cadance continued. “I don’t think I made myself clear last time, and considering I’m the Princess of Love I felt particularly guilty about it. I was just so surprised to hear you saying… well, I didn’t expect it. I hope you can forgive me for that.”
Twilight frowned. This wasn’t what she’d imagined at all. Even after Cadance had seemed so forgiving earlier, this felt wrong somehow.
“I think I gave the wrong impression, actually. If you thought I was saying your relationship shouldn’t happen... I was trying to tell you to stay with him, but to make sure the time was right.”
No, this was definitely wrong.
Cadance smiled. “I don’t know if you remember, but Shining and I first started dating back when you were still living with your Mom and Dad. If anyone had found out I was with a commoner-” She blinked. “Not that that’s a bad thing of course, but I would have been forbidden from seeing him. So I had to pretend that I didn’t feel that way, and he had to do the same. It’s a hard thing to do. In fact, I told him to forget about me. That hurt, but I had to do it. There was no way we could ever be together, short of running away and eloping, and Shining stopped me from doing that.” She chuckled. “But you know your brother, and you know how determined he can be. He promised he’d marry me one day, and that no one would ever question it. I didn’t believe him. And then he joined the Royal Guard. Shining spent years working his way up right from the bottom. They called him the most ambitious pony in the military, apparently, right up until he became Captain. And he did that all for me, so that we could marry and not have to hide our love anymore. All that time, and he never gave up on me.”
Twilight had never heard that story before. Shining had always said he wanted to be in the Royal Guard, ever since… Ever since that night Twilight had found them kissing, and back then she’d never pieced it all together.
“What I’m trying to say,” said Cadance, “and what I don’t think I made clear enough last time, is that you shouldn’t give up on him. And that if you love him, it won’t matter how long you have to wait for him. As the Princess of Love I can’t condone infidelity, but if he loves you and not his wife, then I can’t tell you that’s wrong. Love doesn’t follow the rules, no matter how much easier that would be, but you might have to. You just need to be patient.”
“But you saw us,” said Twilight, frowning. “You know why it’s not that simple.”
“I did what?”
“Last night,” Twilight insisted, trying not to let the hesitancy creep into her voice. It was too late for that now. “You were outside the door, and you saw us, and then you ran away.”
“Twilight, I don’t know what you’re talking about. Saw who?”
“Me and…” Twilight trailed off.
Oh no.
Oh no no no.
“Was coming here my brother’s idea?” she asked, unable to stop her voice from shaking.
Cadance raised an eyebrow. “To Haystead? It was, funnily enough, but I wanted to talk to you anyway. I didn’t tell him anything, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
Shining was the one who said I should come with you two.
Shining.
Shining.
Shining.
Without another word Twilight turned and cantered back down the steps, ignoring Cadance’s confused calls for her to stop. She lit up her horn as she took the stairs two at a time, waiting until she was far enough down that Cadance wouldn’t realise what she’d done. As the giant bell above swung back and filled the town with a resounding toll, Twilight’s magic sparked, and she vanished into wisps of purple smoke.