It had been a few days. Greengrass had collected a total of about ten names, or one-third or so of the ponies in the CCPS. He was ready for the next phase of his plan, which was convenient, since the library heist planning session was that night.
“Ah, Greengrass!”
Greengrass turned. It was early in the evening and he had a few hours to kill before meeting with the CCPS for the library heist. He was still skeptical that anything would actually be accomplished, but he was willing to be convinced otherwise. “Fancy Pants! It’s been a while!”
Fancy Pants smiled gregariously. “Well, yes. The Gala was a bit rough for you, I understand.”
“You could say that.”
“But I could use your help. You see, Fleur’s out at a show, and Posey’s got a touch of feather flu.” Fancy smiled. “So I have nopony to play chess with.”
“Princess Luna won’t give you a game?”
“What, like I would stand a chance against her? Come on, Greengrass, it’s no fun to play somepony who’s practically mastered the game.”
“That would explain why nopony plays with Fisher,” acknowledged Greengrass. “Well… why not? I’m up for a game.” He had to admit to being curious as to what Fancy Pants wanted, and it wasn’t like he didn’t have time. “White or Black?”
“Oh, my defense needs practice, so I’ll be Black. Shall we?”
The two were soon seated at a table in a quiet café a few blocks from the castle. A waiter brought them their drinks and then left the two in silence. Greengrass had to admit that it was a good chess venue.
“By the way, I’ve heard that you and Notary are no longer working together. Condolences,” said Fancy Pants.
“I imagine we’ll both get by,” said Greengrass, dryly. “We’re hardly married, after all.”
“Of course.” Fancy Pants smiled and began to set up the pieces. “Still, you two did seem like good friends, and it’s always sad when friends separate. But I digress. Shall we?”
“Yes.” Greengrass moved his king’s pawn.
After ten minutes or so, and a few moves from each player, Fancy Pants cleared his throat. “So!” said the advisor to the throne. “What have you been up to lately?”
“Not much, sadly,” said Greengrass. “But, between you and me, I think that will change soon.”
“Oh? How so?”
“Couldn’t say,” said Greengrass, smiling slightly. “You know how it is.”
“I suppose I do.” Fancy Pants thought, then moved his knight into the center of the board. “I certainly hope it’s nothing too aggressive, though. The rumors I’ve heard about you – that you tried to seize control of the Elements – well, I hope it’s nothing like that!”
“Oh, I’m ignoring the Elements for the time being. You could say I’ve learned my lesson.” Greengrass brought up a pawn two squares to attack the knight.
“I don’t just mean with them. You know, Greengrass, some might say you’re fortunate to have done so well after your… fall. You maintained your wealth, title, home…”
Ah, so that was it. Fancy Pants had never liked Grengrass, probably due to Greengrass seeing through his nitwit persona, and he wanted him to leave the Court. Greengrass smiled. “And I should be grateful for what I’ve got and retire to my fiefdom?”
Fancy Pants waved a hoof. “Just putting it out there.”
“My dear Fancy Pants, surely you don’t think that it’s things that make a pony happy. Well, Puissance and her ilk excepted. But I could never be satisfied just… sitting on my flank, wasting away in idle luxury.” He shuddered. “I suppose some ponies might be satisfied to reach a certain rank and then relax, allowing their lives to slip away as they lose themselves in physical delights, but I’m not one of them.”
“Greengrass, are you trying to say something?” Fancy Pants’s voice was mild. He moved a piece up. “I certainly hope you aren’t referring to me.”
“Of course not,” said Greengrass.
“After all,” mused Fancy Pants, “There’s another kind of pony, you know. The kind never satisfied with what he or she has, who always wants more, even when they have to put everything they already have on the line to get it. I’m afraid those ponies,” and his voice was harder now, “Often wind up having lost everything they ever had… and it’s only then they realize that, yes, they did like what they had before. I’m glad I’m not one of them.”
“I certainly hope you aren’t referring to me,” said Greengrass.
“Of course not.”
They played in silence for a few more minutes before Fancy Pants made a slight miscalculation, moving a pawn up two squares when one would have been preferable. “Oops. Are we playing touch move?”
“Of course,” said Greengrass.
“What, for a friendly game?” Fancy Pants chuckled.
“Are we friends now?” Greengrass raised an eyebrow. “Honestly, Fancy Pants, I didn’t think you liked me very much.”
Fancy Pants raised his glass to acknowledge the point. “How do you define a friend?”
“Hmm.” Greengrass thought about it. “Hard to say. A pony one confides in, perhaps.”
“Well, I guess we aren’t friends, then,” said Fancy Pants. He moved. “Too bad… I like making friends.”
Greengrass castled. His king’s bishop’s pawn had already captured and moved off the file, giving his rook a straight shot at Fancy Pant’s pieces. “And you want to be friends with me?”
Fancy Pants considered. “Good point.”
After a few more moves, Greengrass thought that he had Fancy Pants at a slight disadvantage. The advisor had a small material advantage, but Greengrass had a better position, and was taking the initiative. “Ready to concede?”
“Never,” said Fancy Pants, with a slight smile. “Why, would you, in this position?”
“No,” said Greengrass, automatically. “But then again, I was never very good at conceding.”
“Yes… that’s certainly true.” Fancy Pants hesitated. “Nonetheless, I would advise you very strongly to consider it in some occasions. Even a grandmaster can wind up outclassed, and the penalties for losing at the highest levels can be… severe.”
Greengrass hesitated for a fraction of a second. Does he know what I’m doing somehow? He’s friends with all kinds of high-ranking ponies, if another noble is investigating the group, it could have gotten back to him. But if he did know, he would have told the guards and we’d all be arrested. Still, he clearly suspects I’m doing something, and for whatever reason he wants to warn me…
Wait, why would he want to warn me? He hates me. Perhaps he wants to spook me. Maybe me backing out is exactly what he wants.
Then again, he might want me to think that backing out is what he wants, and not back out, which is what he actually wants.
That kind of logic went nowhere fast, so Greengrass put a stop to it. “Thank you for your concern. I can’t tell you how much it means to me that you care so much.” He smiled warmly. “But it’s just not in me to give up before a game is over. I suppose it’s just a little weakness of mine.” He moved a piece. “Any other advice?”
“In that case, no. None you could use.” And now Fancy Pants’s smile was definitely wintery.
The game took two hours, and ended in a draw.