At some point in the last few years, Star had come to the realisation that anyone looking at her life from the outside would believe that she had reached the pinnacle of her career. That she had made it in some indefinable way. Certainly, to look at her now, standing amidst the great and good of Canterlot Society, it would be difficult to think otherwise.
She was rich, as such things were generally measured. Famous even outside the field in which she worked. Her career spanned decades and had only ever been drawn inexorably forward and upward by circumstance and fate.
And she was powerful, perhaps more powerful than many of the ponies around her. They had lands and tenants they could boss around, and they could bend the ear of officials in the court for trinkets and favour, but what was that compared to Star, who consorted with princes and kings in distant lands, who had one of the most powerful noble houses in Equestria in her harness, and who had once cheeked herself a drink from Princess Celestia's private – and secret – supply?
"Presenting the Lady Long Sufferance."
Wealth, power, ponies at her beck and call and a beautiful stallion at her side. By any rational measure she had achieved every goal a pony in her position might have striven for.
If only she had wanted any of it.
"... for services to the Crown and the State..."
When her career had begun, she had expected it to come to a steady conclusion as she scratched around in ancient treasure troves, amidst the ruins of former splendour, surrounded by innumerable relics of the past.
"... recognition of achievements in the furthering of friendly relations with Equestria's allies..."
She hadn't expected them to be talking.
"... grant you now this title..."
Ponies in the ancient and not-so-ancient vestments of station and privilege stood all around Star – or, in the case of one rather overstuffed Earl to her front, slouched drunkenly against the withers of a commendably stoic stallion. Earl of Barleycroft, she vaguely recalled, or some similar place close to the border with the Griffon Empire.
Star liked Griffons. They were an airborne species that nevertheless spent most of their time on the ground and hoarded the spoils of their civilisation in large, dry caverns with carefully sealed entrances, which made studying their history as pleasurable as her other associations with them – the thrill of pursuit, the sensation of the hunter's claw at her back and the beak at her belly... for a younger mare seeking the novelty of excitement and danger, they could be a great deal of fun.
Some days Star wondered how different her life might have been had she chosen to specialise in Griffon history. Certainly it would have been less muddy. More entertaining. Easier... but ultimately mundane. Barring some lucky pony stumbling across one of the few missing and likely non-existent artefacts of Griffon myth, there was little to be truly discovered about them, which made the entire realm of Griffon studies predictable and comfortable. Not even the frisson of exotic sex would alleviate that for long.
She shook her head, returning her focus to the front of the room, where the oh so great and noble Prince Blueblood stood at the foot of a gilded throne, while an usher droned out the titles and achievements of each pony that approached him. Of course he didn't do anything, but rather stood and watched while each supplicant was smacked about the withers with a dull-edged sword and sent away wearing whatever shiny bauble the Crown had deigned to award them.
Nearly an hour she had stood in this grand old hall, surrounded by pomp and faded finery. The only saving grace was the presence of Lucent at Blueblood's side to play a role Star had never quite understood, standing erect and stony faced as any guard – and in contrast to the majority of the males present, entirely unclothed. Even the Prince, powerful and as he might otherwise be, still wore the stylised yoke and collar that was customary for a male at an event like this. Though so abstracted by time that it looked like little more than the collar and shirt front of a tux, nevertheless it signified, however remotely, some tenuous level of subservience to the mares arrayed before him. To declare otherwise would be scandal.
A quiet, wheedling sigh reached Star's ears. She glanced to her partner; Scintilla was standing just close enough to appear warmly connected to Star without actually touching her in any way. In a sense it was a good thing, given the way she was vibrating. Star leaned her head toward Scintilla to whisper in her ear.
"Too much coffee, my dear?"
"You didn't tell me this was going to take so long," Scintilla hissed, before quickly ducking behind the carefully quiffed green shield of her mane. A mare ahead of them half-turned at the sound and muttered something to the stallion at her side.
Even Lucent seemed to notice, glancing briefly in Star's direction with a puzzled smile. Star tried to smile back at him, but he had already turned his attention to the next supplicant. She settled for levelling a stern glare at anyone who was still watching.
"I'm sure I mentioned it," Star murmured, before pulling her shoulders tight and taking a long, deep breath. "In fact, as I recall, you insisted that spending several hours in the same room as a bunch of knights and barons and so on would be a marvelous networking opportunity."
"I thought that would be the after party, not—" Scintilla waved a hoof at the crowd. "Not this. There are far more productive things I could be doing right now!"
"I don't see why you have to be so angry about it, dear."
"I'm not angry—"
A guard close to the dais cleared his throat and glared in their direction. Scintilla's ears dropped at the sound and she looked away for a moment.
"I'm bored, Star. All this standing around when I could be out there doing something. It's driving me crazy!"
"You aren't the only one," Star said, taking her eyes from Lucent. "I haven't had a decent fuck in days."
"Do you ever think about anything other than sex?"
"Well, I have been thinking about my diet recently. All this starch can't be good for my figure." Star held a hoof to her chest. "And I do rather like to think that all the effort I put into helping Cinnamon preen has strengthened the bond of friendship between us. I'm told that's the in thing these days."
"The fixation you have with that little featherbrain—" Scintilla's mouth snapped shut like a dog snatching at a fly, so hard that Star was sure her teeth cracked. She glanced at the nearby Meridarch of Typhon, resplendent in her sweeping blue and white robes, then lowered her voice to be sure the pegasus noble wouldn't hear. "I know the real reason you let her in was because you're fixated on wings."
"We all have our little idiosyncrasies, dear, no need to be so bullish about mine," Star murmured. She cast a smile at a dignitary passing down the aisle to their right. "I let her in because she keeps Luci happy and she's good in bed. And yes, I won't deny she's rather pleasant to look at."
"You mean she reminds you of—"
Scintilla gasped, her words forgotten as a barely visible web of magic caressed her nethers. She twitched, blinking furiously, while a her a blush rose across her cheeks that was even visible beneath the bright red of her coat. Star leaned close to her and smiled again.
"I'd think carefully before finishing that sentence, Scintilla my darling. We wouldn't want to see you embarrassed by any sort of public display, would we?"
Scintilla glared at Star from the corner of her eye. The pair held each other's gaze, neither willing to look away for even a moment, until the first hints of arousal rose through the atmosphere between them. Star's smile widened just a little more.
"You're just proving me right," Scintilla said through gritted teeth.
Star's magic briefly tightened around Scintilla's sex before she let it dissipate, leaving Scintilla breathing heavily and shifting uncomfortably from hoof to hoof. None of the crowd around them seemed to have noticed, or if they had they were maintaining a diplomatic lack of interest.
"You wouldn't dare carry it through anyway," Scintilla muttered as she struggled to bring her breathing under control. She rubbed at her flushed cheeks, that even her bright red coat had difficulty hiding. "You'd be dragging your reputation down with mine if you did. Besides, what's to stop me doing the same to you?"
"The fact that you would ask that instead of just doing it."
Star polished a hoof against her tunic and sighed as she examined it. For some reason she'd let herself be talked into a hooficure, which meant that now every tiny little scuff and speck of dirt glared out at her like a mortal wound. It was no wonder society mares walked with such peculiar gaits.
She turned her attention from her own hooves to Scintilla's, peeking out from beneath a the arms of a severe, body-hugging suit-jacket. Until then she had never really paid all that much attention, but thinking back Star realised it was a rare day she saw her partner without shoes of some sort. Usually black leather, which was unusual enough, and ringing with silver in the soles whenever she walked. They seemed subtly modelled after something Princess Luna would wear.
"Besides," she said, as a rare stallion marched across to the foot of the throne. "It's not as if I'd be above that sort of thing to begin with." She moved up against Scintilla's shoulder and let a little magic flow into her horn. "At least if the newspapers are to be believed..."
Scintilla turned to Star with wide, pinprick eyes. "Are you seriously—"
"Rather warm in here, isn't it?"
Star waited while Scintilla opened and closed her mouth, but then the younger mare's jaw tightened quite suddenly and she fixed Star with another narrow-eyed glare.
"You're disgusting."
She stepped away, nearly bumping into a pony behind them. The mare muttered something under her breath.
"I actually believed it, that's the worst part."
"Oh please, did you think I'd really do something that ridiculous?"
"It's only a matter of time," Scintilla muttered. "Why couldn't you have stayed home and let Crincile come instead?"
"Really? I recall you once told me that you thought talking to Crinkle was as boring as watching grass grow."
"Perhaps, but at least she's not obsessed with sex."
Star raised her eyes to the vaulted ceiling."I wouldn't be too sure about that."
"Well... well at least she doesn't shove it in your face all the damn time!"
A laugh very nearly escaped Star, though she managed to turn it into a discreet cough before Scintilla really noticed. A few of the surrounding ponies had noticed, however, and were either throwing Star and Scintilla some very dirty looks, or putting on a show of diverting their attention elsewhere.
"You wouldn't say that if you saw what we were up to last night," she murmured, turning her full gaze to Scintilla once more. The other mare sneered and rolled her eyes.
Just then the room filled with the quiet tinkling of bells. Scintilla's ears flexed at the sound; she stretched her neck and blew into her cheeks.
"Finally we can get to the good part."
The crowd relaxed all at once, shuffling and stomping hooves against the carpet as they stepped out of statuesque poises – or, in the Earl of Barleycroft's case, woke up. The Prince was bowing to a few remaining dignitaries and chattering amiably with Lucent, whose cheerfully broad smile was almost believable.
"I'd just managed to lock my knees as well," said Star, to no one in particular.
Despite that thought she wasted no time in seeking out the buffet at the sides of the hall, where stallions paraded and tossed their manes at one another as they waited for their mares to finish whatever important business kept them penned close to the prince. Scintilla had disappeared already, though Star could hear the squeak of her laughter. She briefly caught sight of a bright red rump disappearing into a crowd near the throne.
While she eyed the crowd, Star loaded up a plate from the buffet. She didn't pay much attention to what she took, having always preferred quantity over quality, though she was careful to avoid adding too many sweets. For some reason the desserts at buffets like this always disagreed with her... or perhaps it was the company, who seemed to believe that being called noble meant that they actually were something other than a bunch of preening idiots with too much money and very little self-control.
Lucent excepted, of course.
Probably.
A last tiny tomato dropped on Star's plate, capping off the newest monument to the gourmand's pursuit, and she turned to survey the crowd once more. Lucent and the Prince were still talking animatedly, while the few hangers-on that hadn't got bored with whatever they were discussing milled around the Prince's backside, muttering to one another and laughing riotously at his jokes.
Star felt a pony huddling up to the table and turned, briefly, to find no less than the newly minted Baroness Long standing beside her, a plate of green salad hovering discreetly close to the table.
"Well then. How does it feel to be part of the idle rich?"
"I'll let you know when I can actually be idle," Long replied, before taking a bit of her salad. She chewed thoughtfully at the greens and then swallowed with a grimace. "Though I must say, if the food is anything to go by, it's probably not all that much to talk about. I would have expected the palace to provide something fresher."
"They keep the best stuff for Celestia's own kitchen, I'd wager," said Star. "It's not so bad though. I can remember times in Zebrica when I would have killed for a plate of lettuce, even if it was limp and dangling as Blueblood over there."
"What—" Long turned to look at Blueblood and Lucent, still talking near the throne. Her gaze fell to a spot between the Prince's hind legs; a moment later she raised her eyebrows. "I say, that's a rather public display isn't it? I wonder what brought that on?"
"Oh he's been eyeballing my Luci for months, but I suppose it must have graduated beyond that recently," Star said. She flicked her tail and laughed quietly. "I mean look at him, he's actually trying to be pleasant to somepony other than his own reflection!"
Baroness Long's ears rolled toward Star, though her gaze was firmly fixed on the prince. "There are a few ponies who might do well to emulate that."
Star snorted, but held her tongue for the moment. She'd had enough verbal sparring matches with Long to know when she was outclassed. Instead, she opted to tuck into a rather tasty lump of cheese that had managed to hide amongst the leafy greens.
"I'm surprised that the Marquessa de Botici chose not to attend this event," said Long, once a servant had poured her a cup of tea. She held it up to her nose to inhale the curling steam that rose above it.
"Marquessa? Oh, Crinkle, yes..." Star sighed and shook her head. "Scintilla over there put on a big song and dance about networking opportunities, but really I think she just wanted to get a close look at Blueblood's cock."
"That seems a little gauche," Long replied, turning to watch Scintilla shuffle through the crowd around the Prince.
"Proactive is what she'd call it. I'm fairly certain the only reason she ever herded with us was for the prestige. If she thinks she's got a chance with Blueblood you can be sure she'll jump herds first chance she gets."
Long frowned. "Just like that? Seems rather disloyal if you ask me."
"Well, yes, but when you consider that she tried to kick me out a few years back..."
"I can't imagine what brought that on," said Long. She snapped at a lettuce leaf and frowned as she chewed it. "Still, I wouldn't have expected you to come along. This sort of affair seems rather more up her Ladyship's alley."
"Well it's not like I have much of a choice either way. Lead mare, close friend getting invested. Short of already being in another country there's not much I could do or say to avoid it."
"No time to arrange a convenient expedition?" Long grinned at Star's scowl and shook her head. "Well never mind, there's bound to be something else you can avoid instead, hmm? Oh speaking of avoiding things, there's a pony I've been trying to arrange for you to meet for a little while."
Star grimaced. "More of your connections, Long?"
Shaking her head and laughing, Baroness Long turned away from Star without an answer. She dropped her plate on the table and trotted away to meet a knot of ponies at the far side of the hall, leaving Star alone with her salad.
Departing ponies seemed to be a constant feature of Star's life. With little to do she returned to watching Lucent and Prince Blueblood, who had apparently found enough self-control to pack himself away again. Or perhaps he'd had to speak to a mare. Perhaps even Scintilla? Star chuckled at the thought of how that conversation would go.
A pony loudly cleared her throat at Star's side, startling Star out of her reverie. She turned, one ear still aimed at Lucent, and found Long waiting again, this time with company and bearing a steaming cup of tea.
"I thought you'd buggered off and left me," said Star, whilst watching Long's companion. A bright blue forelock couldn't quite hide the mare's curious examination in return.
"Sadly not," Long replied. "Permit me to introduce Baroness Saved, Permanent Secretary to the Home Office and shortly to chair the Independent Parliamentary Oversight Committee."
"Delighted, I'm sure," Star murmured. She looked the young unicorn up and down, careful not to let her eyes linger too long on Baroness Saved's rump. "You look familiar. Have I seen you somewhere before?"
"No, but you may be thinking of my niece. Moondancer? She's a friend of your daughter from the School." The newcomer held out her hoof. "Baroness Penny Saved, though I'd prefer if you called me just Penny."
"My secretary is called Penny," Star muttered, but managed to smile as she tapped her hoof against Saved's. She'd had a lot of practice. "Well if you know my daughter then I assume you know the sort of things she gets up to these days."
"Indeed. I'm given to understand she'd doing rather well for herself, though I regret I haven't had much opportunity to speak to her," Penny said, drawing a plate of food toward herself. "I'd hoped she might be taking up a position amongst the Court, but it appears for the moment she has other concerns."
Star nodded whilst idly nosing around her salad. "I'm still not convinced she realises what she's let herself in for."
"By all accounts she seems quite confident in her affairs. Forthright, even." Penny smiled and dipped her head toward the windows on the far wall and the city beyond. "Unfortunately she might have provoked something of a minor governmental crisis. There are rumblings at Silverstone Court about some sort of inquiry."
"What would they even investigate?"
"Oh heaven alone knows," said Penny. "Chances are it's some marginal with a chip on her shoulder trying to make a name for herself before she's kicked out at the next election. Now there would be a pony letting herself in for more than she realises."
Lady Long, raised her eyebrows. "Indeed?"
"I shouldn't gossip," Penny relied, though the smirk on her face told how little she agreed with the sentiment. "Lets just say a senior official at the Home Office might be less than keen on certain predilections being brought to light at the wrong moment."
"Scandalous," Star said, rolling her eyes. "I suppose next you'll be telling me that the sky is blue and Celestia's got a fat arse."
Penny laughed, briefly trapping her tongue between her teeth. Why was it that any mare who spent more than a few minutes around Princess Celestia did that? "No," she said quietly. "It's actually rather mundane. The mare in question fell in love with a Roe Buck and things got a little passionate. The Home Office has already arranged a few months sabbatical for when she can't hide the foal any more, and then there's the question of how they'll be arranging their herd. It's all very hush-hush."
"She's managed to breed with a deer? I didn't think that was possible!"
"Neither did she," Penny replied. Her eyes were twinkling, and just for a moment her hoof strayed toward to her belly. The motion was barely noticeable, but Star knew it well enough from experience. "Life and love find a way, it seems."
"And yet the only non-equine hybrids I've heard about before now have been Griffons," said Long.
"With pegasi?"
"Surprisingly not." Long placed her tea to one side and, just for a moment, looked to Star as if seeking permission to speak. How odd. "There are several large earth pony settlements in the Empire with a long history behind them, but no unicorn or pegasi settlements of note. Griffons seem to prefer species that can't compete directly with them and earth ponies tend to make very good... ah, well. Lets just say they weren't always quite so benevolent toward their ground-bound subjects." She sipped her tea, giving the thought time to linger. "Anyway, the few hippogriffs we know about are generally quite poor flyers and rarely leave the Empire. Which is a shame. They really are quite fascinating creatures."
"I met one a little while back, in Prance," said Star. "He was mated with a painter who only learned to fly when she was in her thirties."
"A rather fitting combination," Long replied with a lopsided grin, before retrieving her tea. Somehow the cup had been discreetly refilled. "You see, Penny, odd little connections like that are the reason we keep this old nag in harness."
"And the reflected glory, don't forget that," Star put in. She winked at Penny.
"If that's how you wish to describe it," Long said, rolling her eyes. "Still, in spite of my own personal opinions on your state of mind, not to mention the numerous scandals you've managed to avoid trapping yourself in, you are quite the asset."
"Something that might be a family trait, if Twilight Sparkle's recent activities are any indication," Penny added, with a wry smile. "I believe a number of ponies see her public marriage to this hoo—um, human as a sort of beacon of liberation, if you will. It wouldn't surprise me if we start seeing more interspecies relationships becoming public."
Star snorted and began to laugh, but covered it up as a cough. "I don't see why she should get all the credit," she said, frowning. "In fact I'm sure I must have contributed something to that whole mess."
"Broken hearts, mostly," Long replied, shaking her head. "It's one thing for a pony known for her predilection to adventure to have sex with a few unusual creatures, Star. It's quite another for Celestia's protégé to so public bond to one of them."
"Then I suppose I shall just have to live with my existing fame and fortune," Star mused, before dipping into the remains of her food.
"I don't know, I think it's kind of romantic in its own way," said Penny. "The brave forebear passing on the torch to the next generation sort of thing, you know? A twinkling star in the darkness of foreign relations."
Star froze with a forkful of salad half way to her mouth. She set the food down and turned slowly to look at Penny. "What did you say?"
Penny flinched as she noticed the intensity of Star's gaze. "Um. Just that you seem like something of a herald? A beacon, er, guiding light, I suppose? I didn't mean to offend."
"You—" Star closed her eyes and pressed a hoof to the side of her head. "Sorry, I think something I ate has disagreed with me."
"The life of the idle rich," said Long, chuckling into her tea. She took another, longer sip and sighed. "But speaking of guiding lights and all that, I have to admit there is more reason than socialising to bring you two together."
"Long." Star set her plate down on the table in a clatter of china and silverware. "Are you meaning to tell me that you've arranged this meeting with some sort of—of ulterior motive? I'm shocked! Shocked and surprised that you could be so conniving and manipulative!"
Long peered sideways at Penny and raised an eyebrow.
"There is sarcasm, Star, and then there is this." She snorted and rolled her eyes. "Nevertheless, Penny has been seeking an unofficial consultation on the matter, and since have such a great deal of, ah, experience on the topic of interspecies affairs, I felt it prudent to suggest that you might be able to provide some sort of insight."
Penny leaned a fraction closer to Star. "Speaking unofficially, the Home Office is in a complete tizzy about the entire situation. The Ministry is convinced there's going to be some sort of revolt or uprising. We've got internal studies that project up to eight percent of the population are engaged in clandestine interspecies relationships of one sort or another."
"Sounds a bit low to me." Star frowned on the realisation that she had likewise leaned toward Penny – and that she was whispering. She cleared her throat and raised her head. "I'm not sure what you think I can contribute. Besides, I expect to be very busy for the next year or so. Got an expedition planned."
"There's no question of retaining you in any official capacity, of course," Penny replied. "But if you want to play the role of the twinkling star again, any wisdom you may wish to impart might leave the Ministry amenable to providing some manner of support in return. Frankly we're—I say, are you feeling alright?"
Star opened her eyes, though she hadn't realised she'd closed them. It took a moment for Penny's face to swim into focus again, filled with concern and confusion for Star's state.
"I have to leave," she said. "It was good to meet you, Baroness Saved. Enjoy your sabbatical."
Without waiting for a response, Star turned and marched toward the nearest door. A guard beyond jumped in surprise as she kicked it open, though he managed to avoid being hit by it and saluted to Star as she passed. Just as the door closed she heard Penny mutter "What do you suppose that was about?" and then the room was cut off, and Star was alone.
The way out was something of a mystery given she'd arrived through a completely different entrance. She turned to the guard; as if reading her mind, he pointed down the corridor to a broad set of doors that led onto a brightly lit garden. She gave him a jerky nod of thanks and trotted away.
* * *
The passage of several hours and nearly as many drinks found Star lying in the dark comfort of her oversized bed, wrapped in silk and feathers and the hot embrace of exhausted bodies.
It was dark, but she liked that. It was close and humid; she liked that too, and the gentle hiss of summer rain beyond the windows, and the quiet thrum of a mare's heart right by her ear. If she lay still, and if she listened with the right mind, it was almost like being back there again, free of responsibilities and legacies and the constant march of familial duty. Almost.
Cinnamon Swift's wing twitched; the young pegasus stretched out and yawned, and that was followed a moment later by Glint lifting his head to stare blearily down at the pair. Whatever tenuous illusion Star had maintained was broken then. She tucked her legs close to her body and shrugged her way from beneath Glint's grasping limbs.
"I hope you're not working yourself up for more," Glint murmured as he rolled onto his back.
"I doubt you could survive even if I wanted to," Star replied. She yawned, prompting a similar response from Glint. "Wasn't Luci supposed to be back by now?"
"He's probably with Crincile," said Glint. "Maybe I should go and find him. I've got an itch."
"Can't scratch it yourself?" Star nodded toward a chest on the wall and wiggled her eyebrows. "Or maybe I could."
"It's really not the same."
Star rolled onto her back, laughing quietly. "You don't have to tell me twice. Don't concern yourself dear, I'm sure he'll be back soon. Unless he's decided to shack up with Blueblood."
Glint's ears pricked. He turned to look at Star with wide, shimmering eyes. "Star, don't say these things! If he did that then I'd have to go and live with him too! I've heard stories about that stallion..." Glint shuffled across the bed to rest his head on Star's belly. "Horrible, terrible stories of depravity that would make the hardiest of mares blush like little fillies! Maybe even you!"
"Only if the thing with the wet celery is true," Star said. She waited a moment for Glint's ears to perk up. "Besides, I've seen him up close. I doubt he'd be able to scratch that itch of yours."
"Oh." Glint sighed, rolling his head until his ear tickled at Star's teats. "Well they do say it's all about the persistence rather than the presence."
"It helps to have both."
The door creaked open – without even a knock, Star noted. She rolled out from under Glint to see who their uninvited guest might be, with the secret hope that it would be Lucent finally returning.
Instead she found Twilight Velvet, staring at her with a downturned lip and wide, tense eyes.
"Maybe you should go persist on Cinnamon for a while," Star murmured. She stroked Glint's head, turning his gaze away from the door. "I suspect I'm about to have another friendly discussion."
Glint snorted. "Just try not to kill one another."
"Well, I shall try, but I can't make any promises for Twilight," Star said as she dropped to the floor. A sleepy yawn was the only answer she got back.
The bedroom took only moments to cross, though she would have found things easier if there hadn't been nearly a whole bottle of wine swilling around her stomach. Nevertheless Star reached the door without swaying even slightly.
Of course Twilight could still tell. She stepped back into the sitting room, not quite managing to hide the sneer that had crept onto her face, and led Star toward a couch.
"I don't think I can remember the last time we had a sober conversation," Twilight Velvet said as she sat down. Star rolled onto the couch opposite and lay back, letting her legs fall as they might.
"Do you ever wonder why that might be?"
"Spare me the passive aggressive nonsense, Star. I came to talk to you about Lucent, not listen to more of your whining."
Star's ears pricked. She sat up. "He's back? When?"
"Two hours ago, though it took until now for me to coax him out of his study."
"Typical. He could have at least come and see me before he buried himself in his books again," Star muttered.
"Why would he, when you ran off and left him alone?"
"I did no such thing! I merely—"
"Abandoned Lucent with that greasy slimeball prince," Velvet growled. She turned away, massaging her forehead with both hooves. "He's convinced he upset you somehow, as if he could ever hope to be anywhere near as viciously thoughtless as you."
"Twilight—"
"You don't even try, that's the worst part! You just act like your stupid rotten self and to hell with what anyone else thinks!"
Twilight Velvet's forelegs fell at her sides. She rolled forward, dropping to all fours on the carpet and, with a twitch of her tail, turned to face Star again.
"You need to apologise to him," she said, not quite looking Star in the face.
"I will. I will, Twilight," Star snapped, before Velvet could shoot back a reply. "It was just... j-just..."
Star's jaw clenched, preventing her from speaking. She could feel her lips curling in on themselves, crushing against her teeth, as if her entire body refused to let her talk any longer. She took a breath through her nose and turned away, closing her eyes, and ignoring the prickle of tears she felt in them.
Magic flared; Velvet's magic. A moment later Star felt a kerchief brush gently against her hoof. Wordlessly she pressed it to her face and took another shaky breath.
"I will," she repeated, dabbing at her eyes. "You can probably imagine it's been a very stressful few weeks. Too many things happening at once."
Velvet snorted, but where normally she might have torn another well-deserved strip from Star's hide, instead she remained mercifully silent. She watched Star, tilting her head this way and that, until finally:
"This can't go on forever, Star."
"I don't know what you expect me to do about it. No matter what decision I make, somepony will decide to make my life a misery for it. Usually that turns out to be you."
"And whose fault is that?" Twilight Velvet shot back. She looked away, though her ears weren't laid flat this time. "I'm going to go and see if Lucent is feeling any better. You should probably think about what you're going to say to him when you apologise."
"I—"
"And when you've done that you can think about how to fix things up with Twilie. Yes I know exactly what you did," she said, before Star could even open her mouth. "I didn't think you could sink any lower than you already have, but I suppose you never saw a boundary you didn't want to utterly violate."
"It's never been a problem before..."
Twilight Velvet closed her eyes. "You'll make things right, Star. After all these years she deserves a mother who actually gives a damn about her life."
Velvet looked back at Star. No anger or resentment clouded her face, or even the pity that had become such a frequent feature of her expression in recent years. All Star saw now was a tired emptiness, a dullness to Velvet's eyes, as if she had finally given up. But given up what?
While she pondered this, she realised Velvet had left the room in silence, not even bothering to close the door.
"I tried," Star said to the emptiness.