“ ‘… but, luckily, we were able to find all the teeth, and managed to pay the Mayor’s ransom!
Your faithful student, Twilight Sparkle.’ ”
Celestia smiled, and rolled up the report. She was about to compose a reply when a second rush of smoke and flame indicated another letter. The hue of green was unmistakeable, it was clearly Spike’s, but there was no reason for Twilight to send another letter so soon after the last one.
Intrigued, Celestia floated it over and broke the seal, unrolling the parchment and reading.
“ ‘Madam,
Your most dutiful servant, Spike, humbly requests that Your Highness forward the contents of the following missive to your servant, Adalinda, on his behalf, if it does not inconvenience Your Highness.
I have the honour to be, Madam, Your Highness’ humble and obedient servant,
Spike.’ ”
Attached was a folded parchment, addressed to the Adalinda mentioned in the letter. Celestia chuckled to herself.
“He’s always so formal when he writes, unlike Twilight…” she mused, getting up and taking the folded letter with her. She strolled through the halls of Canterlot palace, nodding her head at the various servants and visitors when they bowed and curtsied as she passed.
Shortly, she came to the doors of one of the palace’s many towers, the one that housed the Princesses’ extensive library. A guard opened the door at her approach, and she quickly stepped inside, and wandered up to the main desk. She set the letter on the desk, and rung the bell for attention.
Somewhere, high above, came the sound of fluttering pages, followed by a strong blast of warm air as a great winged dragon carefully threaded their way through the walkways and spiralling stairs, down to the reception. While nowhere near as large as other specimens of dragonkind, it was at least five times the height of the Princess herself, but evidently the tower had been designed with such sizes in mind.
“Ah, your highness, always a pleasure. Come to return a book, have you? Your late fees probably extend to most of the royal treasury by now.” The dragon asked, staring down her enormous spectacles at the Princess, her voice clearly giving her away as female, though tempered by age.
“Then it’s a good job that, as Princess, all these books are my personal property and I’m exempt from charges, isn’t it?” Celestia smirked.
The dragoness snorted, a little wisp of smoke floating away to the upper floors. “You never change, Celestia. I would like that copy of A Mare’s Desire back, all the same. You’ve had it nearly a century, and you’re down here every week with your post!”
“But I’m only just getting to the good bit, my dear Adalinda! Besides, Luna borrowed it.” Celestia retorted, almost defensively. “Speaking of post, there’s one for you this week.”
Adalinda raised a scaled eyebrow and glanced at the comparatively tiny scrap of parchment on the desk below. Reaching down, she daintily picked it up and unfolded it, adjusting her glasses to read the tiny handwriting.
Her features softened as she read, smiling broadly, occasionally chuckling. When she’d finished, she folded it back up and placed it, with care, back on the desk.
“How is he?” Celestia asked, looking up at the librarian.
“Just fine, Celestia.” She smiled, happily. “My Spike, working in a library for your scatter-brained apprentice… Like mother, like son, mm?”
Celestia grinned. “I’m sure he’s as great a help to her as you were, and are, to me, my dear Adalinda. Now, while I’m here, I appear to have mislaid my copy of A Disreputable Stallion, you couldn’t get another in for me, could you?”
Adalinda sighed, and rolled her eyes. “Your wish is my command, O Princess of a Thousand Dawns.”
“Don’t start.” Celestia frowned at the dragoness, eyes narrowing.
“Start what, O Light of the Morning?”
“Addy.”
“Oh, alright. Though really, what you see in those trashy things is beyond even me. Give me Taciturn’s Histories any day.” The dragoness muttered, returning to work.
“Thank you, Addy~” Celestia sang, smiling sweetly at her and giving a mock curtsy before prancing away.
Adalinda watched her compose herself at the doors, striding back out with regal grace, and laughed to herself.
“A thousand years on and that filly’s still a handful…”