The moment Princess Cadence’s cerulean magic flashed, and blinded Stout Heart and herself, Prism Shine sprang into action.
Sending Stout Heart after the Princess was only logical. She knew for certain that Captain Armor had been all too thorough in training each of Princess Cadence’s guards on how to follow her teleports, or tail her should she take to the sky. Stout would be respectful, of course, and maintain his distance as protocol demanded. If Princess Cadence wished to speak with him, she would do so on her own terms. If not, she would have a silent escort played by a friendly face.
Either way, Prism Shine counted it as a victory. Small, almost inconsequential when weighed against the grumbling and complaining of petitioners she could hear down the corridor, but a victory nonetheless.
She stood to the side of the door as Corporal Valiance strode through, noting the small frown marring his muzzle. His sharp eyes flitted side to side, searching for Princess Cadence, no doubt.
He set his gaze upon her. “Miss Prism, where is Princess Cadence?”
“Our Princess felt the need to take in some fresh air,” Prism replied. “She teleported off, so I sent Private Stout Heart after her while the spell trace was still fresh.”
Seeming to consider a moment, he nodded. “I would’ve preferred to go along with them, but as long as she’s under escort. Good call, Miss Prism.”
“Thank you, Corporal. I hope our announcement didn’t create too much of a stir among the populace,” she said, her tone level.
Corporal Valiance snorted and shook his head. “Only concern. Thank Celestia for that,” he grumbled. “I had no less than twelve of them prostrate themselves before me and beg to know what Princess Cadence was ill with—each were quick to recommend doctors or offer their own opinion on which of the local illnesses she may have contracted. I was quick to inform them that it was highly unlikely Her Highness could contract Crystal Lung unless she’d been spending her nights mining for crystals without our knowledge.”
Prism Shine chuckled. “You’ll have to excuse my kin, Corporal. We only wish to look out for Our Prince and Princess, just as the ponies of Equestria would Princesses Celestia and Luna. And Princess Twilight as well.”
“I understand and sympathize, Miss Prism,” he said with a nod. “Of course, you’re right, each of the Royal Guards here would step forward to give aid to each of the four princesses, I don’t begrudge them that at all.” In a rare move, his lips twitched into a smile, betraying his amusement. “I just found some of their offers mildly strange.”
“What is foreign to you is natural to us, Corporal.” Prism couldn’t help but allow herself a small smile, quickly wiping it from her muzzle to continue their business. “So, will you be chasing after Princess Cadence as well?”
He furrowed his brows in thought, tapping the butt of his spear against the floor. “I would, but the park is a rather big place to search without a spell trace. I’ll have to have them send the word out to a few pegasi to pass overhead, just in case.”
Prism raised an eyebrow. “Scrambling the pegasus unit?” she asked, a hint of surprise tinging her tone. “Won’t that create a bit of unease?”
“I don’t have a choice, Miss Prism. Princess Cadence’s safety is our highest priority. Captain Armor will have all our hides if we don’t take the necessary steps.”
Her ear flicked toward him. Ah, yes. Speaking of Captain Armor. Her lips curved into a frown.
Of course, even with their little lovers’ spat, his almost obsessive dedication to the safety protocols he’d put into place were still present.
Despite the effect his mood was having on Princess Cadence over the course of the past several days.
Prism set her jaw, her mind was made up. “Very well. Take care of your security measures, Corporal.”
Snapping to attention, Corporal Valiance saluted her with his spear. “At once, Miss Prism,” he replied, turning on his hoof to stride away. After a few paces, he stopped, then turned to look over his shoulder. “Er, with respect, shall I send for somepony to help you reorganize the schedule, or—”
“I’ll be fine, Corporal. Thank you.” She bowed her head. “Though, if you would be so kind as to let me know where I might find Captain Armor, I would be most grateful.”
“I’m afraid I wouldn’t know for sure, but you might check with Autumn in his office. She should have his schedule.”
“Very good.” Prism gave a curt nod. “I’ll be sure to stop by the mail room on my way to see her. Thank you, Corporal.”
Without another word, she trotted down the hallway, in the opposite direction Corporal Valiance headed. The steady clip-clop of her hooves against the crystal floor sounded in quick cadence, Prism kept her expression neutral, nodding and offering greeting to her fellow castle staff as she passed them by.
Perhaps she was overstepping her boundaries. If Their Highnesses felt she had, they could scold her once everything was settled, their brief—and yes, it would be brief once she had her say—quarrel was finished, and they were their normal happy, almost sickeningly head over hooves in love selves once again.
Prism swallowed a lump in her throat and began taking several deep breaths, preparing herself for the task at hoof:
Scolding Prince Shining Armor, Captain of the Royal and Imperial Guards.
Oh dear.
“Princess Cadence, wait a—oops! Sorry, ma’am!—Princess, please stop!” Stout Heart called, his hooves pounded against the pathway.
Sighing, Cadence slowed to a stop and cast a backward glance over her shoulder. She flicked her tail, huffing as he made it to her side. “I thought my guards were supposed to stay by me at all times,” she said, a hint of teasing in her tone.
Stout Heart fixed her with a level stare. “You sort of dropped a weight on me back there, Princess. It’s not very fair to do that and complain that it took a second for me to register!”
Cadence let her shoulders slump, heaving another sigh. “Sorry, Stout.” She fixed a weak smile on her muzzle, pricking her ears up halfheartedly. “I guess I’m still a bit off-kilter still.”
“Off-kilter isn’t the word, Princess,” he retorted. His brows were knitted together, his mouth hung open to form a small ‘o’. “I don’t understand at all.”
“What’s there not to understand? I’m torn, Stout. I don’t know. I just—” she grimaced, looking off toward the lush green trees. Closing her eyes, she shook her head. “I don’t know anymore, Stout. I want him happy and safe, and these days, it seems like I can only pick one.”
His ears drooped. Stout Heart gave a sad smile, his eyes full of sympathy. “It’s not that bad, though, right?” he asked, his tone almost pleading. “I mean, you’ve both been together since I was in school—and he’s been a guard for years now! This is just a little hurdle!”
Cadence gave a mirthless chuckle. “We’ll make it, Stout, don’t worry about that. If Shiny and I could make it through an invasion in the middle of our wedding and that witch ensnaring him, we’ll make it through this.” Despite her words, her stomach felt as though a block of ice had sunk into it.
Five nights without Shining Armor unsettled her far more than she let on. They always made up before bed, no matter what their argument was.
Not so for the past five nights.
Her wings unfurled as though to wrap around herself, seeking the added warmth of her own soft, downy feathers; a poor substitute for the warmth she’d missed each night since Shining had found the letter.
That damnable letter.
Cadence snorted and flicked her tail. It was hardly fair to cast blame on Twilight for the letter; after all, she’d asked for help, and then put talking to Shining off until he had the letter in hoof and demanded an explanation.
“I’ve made my bed,” she muttered angrily, “and now I get to lay in it.”
A hoof weighted by gilded gold armor touched her shoulder, drawing her to meet Stout Heart’s eyes. She found a warm, friendly smile, albeit one touched with a hint of uncertainty. “I think there’s something I can do to help, Princess. It’s something you might not be considering about Captain Armor.”
Pricking her ear forward, she turned her attention to the path ahead. As fortune would have it, there was an empty bench, just a short distance away.
Cadence nodded. “Alright. If you’re sure, let’s sit down. I could use a little break.”
His smile brightened, Stout Heart’s ears stood up and tail swished happily. “Thank you, Princess,” he said, bowing his head. “I think this’ll help a bit.”
Curious, Cadence lead the way to the empty bench. Flicking her tail over the edge, she slid gracefully into her seat, leaving Stout Heart to occupy the other side. She turned to sit side-saddle so she could face him, and folded her hooves in her lap. “So, what’s this you say I need to hear, Stout?”
Stout rubbed a hoof against his shoulder, the bracer on his shin clinked against the plates on his shoulder. He gave a crooked, half smile. “Well, there’s something you mentioned about how the Council wants Captain Armor safe, and how he’s supposed to be more in an administrative role now,” he said. “I mean, it makes sense to say and hear, but for a guard, I think it’s tough to go through that change. Especially, one like him.”
“Because he’s lived and breathed the Guard since he was a colt,” Cadence added for him. “I know, Stouty, I fell in love with him in no small part because of how much I loved that devotion and drive.”
“Oh?” His ears waggled. “That sounds like a rather fun story!”
“It’s my favorite.” A smile played upon her lips. Cadence brought a hoof up to wipe away a stray tear as the visage of a much younger Shining Armor, dressed in Royal Guard play armor, stood before her with a bright grin on his face. “He used to live in that armor set his parents bought him for Hearth’s Warming.”
Stout Heart nodded. “I was kinda the same, but I didn’t have the marks to get into the officer program for a commission.” He shrugged, giving a rather sheepish smile. “Never was a very good test taker.”
“It seems like it’s almost prerequisite. And we both know how Valiance is about the Guard, too.”
“Even more obsessive than Captain Armor,” he deadpanned. Shaking his head, he refocused. “That aside, Princess, you know how he grew up wanting to protect, then. It’s a part of who we are, from the day we sign up, all the way through training.” Stout broke off, his eyes flitted from hers to his hooves. “Protecting the princesses and everypony around us is drilled into us, Princess.”
Raising an eyebrow, Cadence nodded. “I know, Stout, I was there when Shining was sworn in.”
He looked up, a measure of sadness written plain on his face. “He still lives in that mindset, Princess. But I think it’s worse for him now. He’s gotta protect his princess, who also happens to be his wife.”
The realization fell upon her like a ton of bricks. Cadence let her wings droop down to touch against the wooden bench, the icy block in her stomach melted and spread throughout her veins. All the teasing, all her silent complaining about how overprotective he could be, and how ridiculous his juggling training recruits, administration, and the few royal duties he fit in could be.
Every bit of it because she was more than just his wife or his princess—she was both. As long as he was a member of the Royal Guard, or the Imperial Guard for that matter, he would happily lay down his life for her.
Just as the Council of Shards feared.
Cadence covered her face with her hooves and wailed, “I don’t want that! I want him safe, Stout! I want him home, with me, so we can grow old together and raise a family, like we’d planned! I never asked for this!”
There was a beat of silence. Then, a hoof touched her shoulder, almost hesitantly soft.
“I don’t know if I can say anything to help it stop, Princess. But that’s where he is, I think.” Stout Heart removed his helmet, placing it to the side so he could run a hoof through his mane. “He’s doing what he thinks is right: protecting you.”
Slowly, Cadence dragged her hooves down her face so she could look him in the eye. “I know!” she whined. “But protecting me puts him in danger! And if I give an order for his commission to end, he’ll be furious!” Again, she buried her face in her hooves, reaching up to pull at her mane.
With a frustrated groan, she snatched the tiara off her head and held it in her hooves. Her reflection shone in the well-polished gold; a face the inspired so many compliments of her beauty and the bright smile that once lit up a room, a memory. A mere shadow in the face of the mare staring back at her, with dark circles beneath her eyes, the pink coat of her cheeks pale and patchy, not at all like the bright, well-brushed coat she sported.
And in place of her bright, cheerful smile, a miserable frown and stress lines marring her cheeks. She reached up, almost afraid, and touched her face, watching her reflection’s hoof press against her cheek as if to confirm.
I look like an old mare at a funeral.
Her shoulders slumped, Cadence stared into her reflection’s eyes in search of an answer. How could she find one that satisfied both his safety and his happiness?
Safety meant coming off the field and retiring from active duty. Happiness meant a return to status quo.
“There isn’t a right answer, is there” she thought aloud. Turning to face Stout Heart, she held up her crown as if offering it to the poor stallion. “Why does it have to be my decision, Stout?” she asked. “I want him happy, but, logically, leaving him in danger is wrong.”
Stout Heart gave an uneasy smile and nod. “It probably is,” he admitted.
Cadence flicked her tail, her wings gave a little twitch of irritation. “Then why remind me of all those things?” she demanded. “Why make it so difficult for me to decide?”
“I don’t mean to!” he replied, holding his hooves up in surrender. “I thought it might help you see where he’s coming from!”
She made to retort, but stopped short, biting back a sarcastic “thanks for muddying the waters” in favor of thinking on his words.
Yes, Shining Armor had made that promise all those years ago. He lived and breathed the tenants of the Royal Guard; protecting and serving his fellow ponies was everything to him, embodied by the oath he took on his graduation day.
Protecting his princesses, family, and loved ones—Twilight and herself, above all—drove him to master shield magic the likes of which no unicorn before had even dreamed, even Celestia praised his prowess in the art.
It was almost as if he were simply born to be a perfect fit for the Guard. A cruel joke, that her husband would always place himself between a pony and danger, rather than living a quiet, normal life.
And yet, as cruel as it seemed, Cadence had allowed herself to fall in love with every bit of him; from his silly jokes, to his oblivious nature, to the burning determination to protect others, all of it made up that stallion she’d fallen so head over hooves in love with.
A tiny smile played upon her lips as she thought of the promise he made. If I could keep you safe, but let you keep your promise, I would do so in a heartbeat.
With a remorseful sigh, Cadence faced forward. “I suppose asking you for the best solution is out of the question,” she said, turning her crown over in her hooves.
“I, er, well—” Stout Heart chuckled, rubbing at the back of his mane “—I don’t think I have a best solution for you, Princess. I’m just a Private.”
“I thought not.” Chuckling mirthlessly, she placed the crown atop her head, giving a slight adjustment to make sure it was centered. “How about advice, then? In exchange for advice on how to progress with Tourmaline?”
Stout Heart raised his eyebrows. “I thought we were finished with that deal, Princess.”
“I’m making an offer for a new deal: help me, and I’ll make sure you can take her to The Iridescent on a night of your choice. I’ll even take care of the bill.”
His ears perked up, though he tried to hide the hint of a smile that flashed across his face. “You’d do that just for my advice?” he asked, as if unsure.
Cadence nodded. “I’ll take what I can at this point. Especially since what I’ve been doing…” She closed her eyes and let out a breath through her nose. “Well, it’s not worked out well for Shining and me.”
“Er, in fairness,” he began, cringing a bit at her assessment, “you’ve not been in a very enviable position.”
“That, my friend, is the biggest understatement you could’ve come up with,” Cadence said, snorting in amusement. “Care to trade places?”
Stout Heart shook his head and scooted away from her, then he made a show of picking up his helmet in the orange glow of his magic and plopping it on his head. “I think I’ll stick with guard pony, Princess. It’s far more simple.”
Snorting, she shot him a wry smirk and said, “I thought you’d say that.” She shifted herself so she was comfortable, with her forehooves folded neatly in her lap and tail tucked to the side, as she allowed her eyes to wander up toward the sky.
She allowed herself a little smile as she watched several crystal pegasi push clouds into place for an afternoon shower. It’d be just enough to allow the plant life surrounding her a nice, cool drink.
What a shame that she would waste a beautiful day moping and feeling sorry for herself. Yet again.
Cadence lowered her gaze, fixing it upon the foals playing tag just across the park. They were all so happy, so carefree…
And here she was, wishing she could go back to a time where she was the same way rather than face her own problems.
“I don’t know what to do,” she said finally. “Everything I’ve done so far has just made things worse for both of us. And I can’t just cast a spell so we both remember just how much we love each other because it doesn’t solve the problem at hoof.” Flicking her tail, she frowned and shook her head. “I don’t know how to fix this. He’s angry, the Council is still breathing down my neck, and I don’t have anything to go on.”
“We could just talk,” Shining’s voice sounded from just behind her.
The tinkling of magic filled the weight room. Shining sat on the floor at the center of all the equipment, his eyes closed as he let his magic snake out to take hold everything—benches, weight racks, bars, he could feel his magic wrapping around all of it, enveloping the equipment in small bubble shields as if they were ponies.
He took a deep breath and slowly lifted, fighting against the onset of a headache—the first sign of magical exhaustion.
The past five days had not been kind to Shining Armor.
Sleep evaded him like a wily ghost, teasing him and coaxing him to fall into its warm embrace before darting away, just out of reach each time he laid down to sleep.
It just wasn’t the same. The mattress just felt so stiff, like it hadn’t yet been slept in by anypony, but even more. Almost as if somepony thought it would be funny to stick a piece of plywood inside, then sew it back up as a joke.
Shining checked, no plywood came up in his detection spell. Just the usual mattress fluff and bedsprings. Worst of all was that is just felt so small and cold without Cadence to hold in his hooves, or, more likely, for her to drape a leg and wing over his body, protecting him almost jealously against whoever might dare try to steal him from their bed.
A frown marred his muzzle as his thoughts wandered to Cadence, back to the very reason he’d been so frustrated. He loved her, there was no question about that. No fight, no matter how big, would change that. Cadence was his love song, just like the Roaman root of her name suggested.
Which was why it was so damned hard to accept her lying and hiding from him.
But training was good. Training took his mind off everything and just let him sit at the center of his own personal universe, orbited by a few bits of metal held aloft in his shields. Like he was holding ponies away from danger and keeping them safe, sound, and protected.
Much like Cadence tried to protect him emotionally.
Too bad that protection means I get treated like a foal, he thought with a derisive snort. Can’t just come talk to me face to face anymore, oh no. We have to hide everything from Shiny, send letters back and forth to Twily and ask her to keep things quiet, because the news might upset him a little. Can’t have that!
“Er, sir?” Lighthoof’s voice echoed off the weight room’s walls and brought him out of his reverie. “You called us?”
Without standing or cancelling his spell, he turned to look over his shoulder. He nodded to Lighthoof and Wind Runner. “Lieutenants,” he greeted. “Thank you for coming. I trust the recruits are coming along well?”
“Yes, sir,” Lighthoof replied. “We’ve been drilling them more intensely on hoof-to-hoof combat and swordplay. They seem to be getting the hang of it, if recent spars are anything to go by.”
Wind Runner nodded. “Their stamina and agility are also much better. I lead them on another run yesterday, didn’t have to double back to get them moving again. If this keeps up, we might be able to get them out on some shadow patrols with our unit.”
“Excellent,” Shining said, sighing in relief. Finally, this is starting to pay off. “Would next week be possible to start that?”
The pair shared a look, then nodded. “It might be a little rough at first,” Lighthoof began, “but I think they can handle it. Gotta go out and put it to practice sometime.”
“My thoughts exactly. Please see to it, then.”
“Yes, sir!” they said in unison, each snapping a quick salute.
“Very good.” Shining turned back to his practice, concentrating on a rack of weights that had begun to dip toward the floor. With a little extra concentration, it floated up lazily to join its brethren, hovering around him. “I wanted to discuss something with you both, actually. It’s something I’ll need to start calling in the rest of our unit over the next little while.”
There was a moment’s pause. Then Wind Runner spoke up, “Sir? I don’t think we do performance evaluations for another month or two…”
He chuckled and shook his head. “No, not evals, Windy.” Waving a hoof to his right side, he said, “Sit down, boys. Time for a talk I should’ve had with you when we first came up.”
“Er… yes, sir.” Shining almost laughed at the hesitation in Lighthoof’s voice, along with the ever-rare bit of apprehension in the typically brisk cadence he trotted with.
Lighthoof took the spot nearest to Shining, turning to face him. “If you’ll excuse me for being a bit… blunt in my asking, what talk is it we need to have, sir?”
Shining sighed. “Where do you see yourselves in five years?”
“Excuse me?” Wind Runner blanched. “Sir, you’re not about to discharge us, are you?”
“Don’t even joke about that,” Shining snapped, leveling him with a flatline glare. “What kind of idiot do you take me for? Discharging two of my top officers in the middle of training recruits and getting security tightened down would be the single dumbest move anypony could make, let alone the dumbest of my career!”
Wind Runner held up his hooves in surrender. “Sorry, sir! But that sounded like the lead in to a ‘time to go, boys’, speech. Or a job interview. One of the two.”
“Much as I love seeing Windy bluster, I have to agree, sir,” Lighthoof added.
Rolling his eyes, Shining nodded. “Fine, not my best start. Forgive me if I’m a little snippy, but I’m not having the best time at home lately.”
“Ah.” Wind Runner cringed. “You have my sympathy, sir. Would you like to talk about it, or—”
“Business, Windy. I’m taking care of this right now.” Anything but the other thing, please. “The reason for my poor excuse for an opening is that I have to ask what you were both thinking of for your career paths.”
“We’re your Lieutenants, sir,” Wind Runner replied. “My career path when I got my commission was to lead the pegasus squad in Canterlot.”
“And I was to lead the counterattack on the ground in the event of a siege,” Lighthoof said. “As we saw during the Changeling Invasion.”
Yes, thank you for that. Shining flinched at the memory. “Right. And you both did well that day, I was surprised you both wanted to move up here when you worked so hard to get a commission back home.”
“You’re the Captain of our unit, sir. We know your tactics and leadership best, and feel comfortable with it.” Lighthoof raised an eyebrow. “Sir, if I might ask, why this questioning if you’re not going to have us taken off? It seems rather odd of you to beat around the bush, so to speak.”
Shining gave a wry smile. Lighthoof was anything but “gentle” in how he addressed what he saw as a problem; if anything, the only reason his name was so fitting was his hoofwork in combat.
For an earth pony as small and stocky as he was, Lighthoof could be surprisingly agile, even the pegasi had trouble laying hoof on him when he got going.
Agile, but heavy-hitting. Both in terms of physicality and blunt nature.
Trust him to help me out when I can’t get my mouth to work right. “I want you both to stay,” Shining said. “Plain and simple, I want this unit to stay in the Empire on a permanent basis. Recruitment for the Imperial Guard is nowhere near what we’d hoped, and there aren’t any ponies I’d trust more with maintaining our security.”
Wind Runner snorted. “Short of dragging your sister and her merry band up here to stay?”
“I won’t say that if they were to enlist I wouldn’t pull every string I could to get them stationed here with us, but I’ll admit that I wouldn’t complain. Miracle enlistments aside, you’re my best and first choice, boys. This is the unit I’d pick each and every time, with only a couple additions to give us an extra advantage here and there.” He turned his attention to the equipment in his shields, watching as he began to make them turn in opposite directions. “It’s your call, of course,” he added. “If you or anypony else in the unit want to go back to the capital, there’s no hard feelings. You’ll all go home with my highest recommendations and compliments.”
A heavy silence fell over the trio, broken only by the tinkling of Shining Armor’s magic.
After a moment, he turned with raised brow to regard the pair. A snort of amusement escaped him as he took in the way they worked their mouths wordlessly, more akin to fish than his vaunted Royal Guards. “All it took was a bit of sentiment and promise of recommendation to break you two?” he teased, despite his dour mood.
“I’m trying to wrap my head around why you’re asking this now, of all times,” Wind Runner said.
“It’s bloody stupid timing, if you ask me. No disrespect intended, sir.” Lighthoof narrowed his eyes at Shining, fixing him with a calculating stare. “Going along your reply from earlier, this would be a horrible time for us to ask to transfer back to Canterlot.”
“It would certainly put a lot of strain on us, yes,” Shining admitted. “And I would have to scramble to find officers to replace you.”
“Which would lead to either ponies transferring from other units to join this one ad hoc, or promotions for those who aren’t ready,” Wind Runner added.
Shining winced, but nodded all the same. “Yes. Therein lies my problem.” He turned to look toward the opposite wall, sighing and shaking his head. “I want you guys here, but I know you both worked your tails off to earn your placement in Canterlot. Coming up here was supposed to be a temporary measure, but if this long, slow process of training Imperial Guards is going to be the norm, we’ll be in a lot of trouble if I just send the unit back without replacing it. Like I said, though—”
“Sir,” Lighthoof cut in. “Permission to speak freely?”
Blinking, Shining turned to face him again and nodded. “Granted.”
“Quit pussyhoofing around, you big ninny.”
Shining Armor recoiled as though Lighthoof had slapped him across the face with a dead fish. His magic flickered for a split second, nearly dropping the equipment. “Excuse me?”
“I didn’t stutter, sir. I know how hard I worked to get posted at Canterlot, and I’ve found our reunion as Captain and Lieutenant just fine. Can’t speak for Windy—”
“Seconded,” Wind Runner put in.
“—Well, there we have it!” Lighthoof folded his hooves over his chest. “The way I see it, I’m away from family unless I get stationed out in Baltimare. Seeing as how I don’t have much interest wrestling a few street thugs to the pavement for whatever stupid horseapples they get up to, that’s not happening. I don’t have a problem staying.”
Wind Runner stomped once in affirmation. “Seconded again!” He fixed Shining with a grin, then added, “Meadowlark fell in love with this place at first sight. If she heard I opted to leave rather than stay permanently, I’d be on couch patrol until my mane turned gray!”
For the first time in several days, a genuine smile spread slowly across Shining Armor’s face. He nodded once, then turned back to his practice. He drew in a deep breath through his nose and allowed himself a moment to take it in.
“Thank you both,” he said. “If you would kindly pass along the question to the other officers and unit as a whole, and collect a list of those who wish to return, I would be much obliged.”
“Yes, sir,” they replied in unison.
Armor clacked against armor as hooves shuffled against the floor. Wind Runner gave a little rustle of his feathers while Lighthoof popped his joints.
“I’ll get with Cirrus,” Wind Runner said.
“And I’ll pass it along to Stone Hoof so he can discuss with the city patrol,” Lighthoof added. “We’ll have it to you by tomorrow, sir.”
Shining nodded, then waved them out. “See to it, then. You’re both dismissed.”
With a sharp clack of their armor, the two snapped salutes, then turned and trotted away. Shining let out a relieved sigh, then refocused; concentrating his efforts on selectively raising weights while lowering benches, but keeping the bars in place. A practice of his dexterity with magic and focus on maintaining shields.
The door opened with a creak. Wind Runner let out a surprised squawk, he flapped his wings, making Shining’s ear flick toward him. “Excuse me, Miss Prism! I didn’t see you there!”
Prism? Shining opened his eyes and turned to behold his wife’s seneschal, frowning at the rather put out expression that graced her typically stoic face. What in Equestria is she doing here? She’s supposed to be in Court.
“No apology is necessary, Lieutenant,” Prism replied evenly, giving a little bow of her head. She stepped inside, then moved out of the doorway. “Please, don’t let me detain you. I have business with Captain Armor.”
Shining furrowed his brows. His ear flicked at the tone in her voice; stern, as though she were a mother shooing away her naughty foal’s friends, ready to lecture him for misbehaving once they left.
Oh, joy. This is exactly what I need right now.
By the way their ears pinned back against their scalps, Lighthoof and Wind Runner recognized it too. The pair shared a look with one another, then nodded.
“We’ll leave you to it then, Miss Prism,” Wind Runner said, a smile teasing at the edges of his lips as he sidled out the door. Sparing a quick glance to Shining, he whispered out of the side of his mouth. “Try to leave him in one piece. We kinda need him.”
Giving a derisive snort, Shining flicked his tail. “Thank you, Lieutenants,” he said, fixing the pair with a stern glare. “I believe you both have plenty to busy yourselves with.”
The pair winced at the bite in his tone, then slipped out the door without another word, leaving Shining to sit in silence under Prism’s stare.
After waiting a moment until the muffled clippity clop of his Lieutenants’ hooves to fade away, he sighed. “What can I help you with, Prism? You’re supposed to be in Court today.”
Prism cleared her throat and walked toward his side. “A few things, My Prince,” she replied, pausing no doubt to bow despite the fact he wasn’t looking. “First and foremost, with regards to the Court, I should inform you that I was able to convince Her Highness, Princess Cadence, to cancel today’s appointments and petitions so that she might rest. She hasn’t been well these past few days.”
Shining flicked his ear, frowning at the accusatory edge he caught in her tone. “I appreciate you doing that,” he said slowly, “and for informing me. I trust she’s resting, then?”
“That leads us to my second piece of business with you: Her Highness teleported after—”
“What?” Shining leapt to his hooves and whirled around to face her, his frustrations with Cadence faded into the background. “Where did she—nnng!” The backlash of his workout hit him like a buffalo at full sprint. His eyes crossed, a sharp pain flared at the center of his forehead, like somepony drove an icepick through his skull.
Everything fell. His magic flickered out of existence and gravity took effect.
Prism shrieked, diving to the floor and covering her head with her hooves.
Only reflex gave him the wherewithal to cast a quick shield charm over Prism and himself. Shining threw a hoof around her shoulders and pulled her close to his side, and then pinned back his ears to block out the sound.
With a loud clatter of metal, all the weights, racks, and benches hit the floor around them. Shining couldn’t help but wince at the high-pitched ringing in his ears. He grit his teeth, cracking open an eye to make sure he nothing was rolling about.
Aside from one of the bars rolling in a lazy semi-circle before it came to a rest, there was nothing.
Sighing in relief, Shining released his hold on Prism’s shoulders. “Sorry,” he muttered. “Lost control.”
“Apology accepted,” Prism replied, her voice quivering as her shoulders shook. “I probably should’ve asked you to put those down first.”
“That would’ve helped, yes.” Shining ran a hoof through his mane and sighed. He took a moment to compose himself, inhaling through his nose and then slowly letting out out through his mouth several times.
Just like Cadence had taught Twilight all those years ago.
“So,” he began, “she teleported out. I’ll need to enact our missing princess protocol, then.”
“Already taken care of,” Prism said. “Private Stout Heart was able to follow her teleport, and I had Corporal Valiance scramble a pegasus patrol squad to do a few ‘practice runs’ over the park.”
The park. Of course. Shining closed his eyes and set his jaw. Her thinking spot. “She’s stressed, I suppose. Getting out of the castle will do her some good.” Sighing again, he turned to face her and opened his eyes, flinching away from the stern stare. “You know what’s stressing her, I take it?”
Prism nodded once, flicking her tail. “Yes, My Prince. I do. Might I be frank?”
“Yes.”
“You. Or, more specifically, your reaction to the Council’s dealings.”
Shining took a moment to react, frowning as the gears in his head began to turn. “I hardly think our marital issues are your concern,” he replied cooly. “This is between Cadence and me. Apparently, Twilight and the Council, too.”
She stepped closer, not backing down from him despite the difference in height. “With respect, My Prince, when it impacts Her Highness’ health, yes it does. Not to mention when I see two ponies I would like to consider my friends going through trouble.”
He scowled and turned away from her. “So, you know all about it, then?”
“I do, yes. She confided in Tourmaline and me, then asked Princess Twilight for help on the matter.”
“Which makes me the last pony to know.” Flicking his tail, he began to pace. “How nice. So, gossiping and trying to keep me unaware like I’m a little colt? Does anypony else know? My parents, perhaps? Celestia and Luna?”
Prism huffed. “You’re letting your anger blind you, so I’ll ignore that outburst.” Despite his position, Shining found himself ducking his head as if shying away from a blow. “She was trying to cover all bases before she told you. Consulting Princess Twilight was a means to that end, really, not a case where she went running to find somepony to cry to, although I will not doubt she wanted some measure of emotional support, given how our initial talk went.”
Shining made to retort, turning sharply to look down at her and remind her just who was the prince in this conversation.
But Prism was on a roll. She stepped forward and got right in his face—something few ponies outside the Royal Family and Discord dared try. “As far as Princess Cadence treating you like a little colt, My Prince, you have so little room to talk it astounds me.”
“E—Excuse me? I have little room to talk?”
“Just how many special procedures have you put into place to make sure that Princess Cadence is under close watch? Let me just count: we have the pegasus patrol always ready to be called, you personally taught her security detail how to follow her teleport spells, I’m quite sure you have—”
“Protecting her is my job!” Shining shouted. “I’m the Captain of the Royal and Imperial Guards, protecting Cadence, and all the ponies in the city, is my profession!”
“And she has say over your profession,” Prism replied. “On a Captain to Princess basis, she has every right to consider the Council’s wishes, and consult her fellow Princess on what to do.”
Shining sucked in his lips. She’d backed him into a corner with that point, no matter how he wanted to fight it. “Yes,” he ground out. “But if we’re speaking professionally, she should’ve brought this to me so I could at least recommend a replacement!”
She stood her ground and shot back, “You’re both her husband and her protector, your personal wellbeing will always be her concern! I sat at a table with Princess Cadence and watched her wring her hooves over how to bring it to your attention without alarming you, how she didn’t want to take you away from your dream and service to the Crown despite the need for your safety—both from a purely professional and familiar standpoint.” Her glare melted away. Prism sighed and hung her head. “She’s been worried, My Prince. The Council wants you off the field and out of danger, she wants you safe, but knows how important your work is to us all, and you refuse to act like an actual prince because you favor being ‘one of the boys’, so to speak.”
Silence hung over the pair as Shining tried to force his mouth to form words. No matter what he thought, he didn’t have a proper counter.
What could he say aside from the usual?
“I just…” Shining looked away, swallowing a lump in his throat. “Prism, this is what I do best. Protecting ponies is part of who I am! It’s just me!” He gestured to his cutie mark, his eyes lingering on the shield christened with the purple starburst he shared with Twilight. “This and marrying Cady—that’s what I wanted. Sure, she was a princess then and I’d have dealt with some stuff about being royalty, but everything was simpler before we took the Throne. I didn’t ask for all this!”
Prism lifted her head to meet his eyes. “We didn’t ask for Sombra to enslave us,” she whispered. “But we prayed for the day we’d be free of him, and we were.”
Shining tried to hide a wince. That certainly put things in perspective.
Marital and professional problems didn’t exactly hold up against enslavement, no matter how frustrating the road might get.
“Things happen for a reason, as Celestia would say.” He thought a moment, wrinkling his muzzle. “Or, they happen because Discord was bored, in which case, it’s best to call Fluttershy.” His ear flicked at the amused snort she let out, a smile graced his lips. “I thought you’d like that.”
“Princess Cadence is right. You are an incorrigible goof.”
Shining nodded. “She’s right about a lot of things.” He sighed and shook his head. “And I suppose it’s high time I remembered that.”
Prism smiled. “You’ll talk to her, then?”
“Yeah. I’ll go look for her and we’ll have a nice little talk.” He reached up to rub at the back of his mane. “Looks like I get to play find the princess in the park.”
Laughing, Prism shook her head. “I’ll leave you to it, then. Oh, before you go, there was a letter for you from Lord Alfons. Would you like to read it now, or shall I set it aside for later?”
Shining thought a moment. “Leave it on my desk back at the room. Cady and I need to take care of this other stuff first.”
Prism bowed and turned on her hoof, trotting toward the door to take care of the rest of her duties.
One fire put out. Shining began to channel magic through his horn, his gaze flitted to the mess around the weight room. He cringed and looked away. I’ll handle that later… Or not. Depends in how things go.
He focused on the park entrance, frowning slightly at the idea of searching without an idea of which part she might be in. “At least Stout was able to follow her,” he muttered as his spell charged up. “I’ll have to do something nice for him.”
The world around him vanished in a flash of pink.