For those of you who are unaware, let me impress on you the high profile nature of the event known as the Grand Galloping Gala.
Officially, it is a party for the nobility and other old money types to come together and stab each other in the back. However, in recent years it has been opened up more. Government types like myself were invited, as were celebrities such as the Wonderbolts, who do a display afterwards. Representatives from other nations, such as the Griffon Kingdom, Saddle Arabia, and the Crystal Empire were also invited to attend. At this point, the whole thing is quite cosmopolitan in nature.
However, that doesn’t mean it has exactly improved much. Celestia herself had confessed to me that the Gala was almost always awful and a very tedious chore for her. After all, she has to wear her ‘princess’ mask all night long, put up with nobles such as Blueblood, and deal with any other problems that might come up. She told me the first time Twilight and her friends were invited, the end result was the near total destruction of the banquet hall.
So, she does all she can to make it ‘entertaining’ as she puts it. To that end, she invites ponies from all walks of life and locks them in the castle for about four hours for the Gala. The results are usually quite interesting, or so she tells me.
Nevertheless, across Equestria, invitation to the Gala is still something ponies will scratch each other’s eyes out for. It was this party that I had been invited to. Well, that and my ‘plus one’. I could hardly turn up without she who must be obeyed, now could I?
After I told my wife the news, and convinced her to stop squealing, the two of us began to plan out what we needed to do. I had a perfectly fine suit already. I usually go suited and booted when I go to Day Court.
However, for such an event as this, I would probably be better off with a dinner jacket. Whilst Rarity is an excellent seamstress, her speciality is mares and mares’ styles. She made some excellent clothes for me when I first got here, but since then, I’ve done a lot of my clothes shopping via a tailors in Canterlot which she admitted would serve me better.
My wife, on the other hand, had no qualms about visiting Rarity and purchasing one of her dresses. I’ve actually heard mutterings in Canterlot that she is planning on opening a new store within the city itself, with some big name in the pony fashion world helping her manage it potentially. In any case, Rarity had made Gala dresses for all her friends the last time they had been invited. Celestia had been forced to, at least temporarily, blacklist them all due to what happened the last time she invited them. They were now, of course, allowed to return again, in light of the incident with Tirek. I was sure that Rarity would have no trouble cooking up something suitable for her.
The next day was Saturday. With a whole day free to do as I pleased, I decided to go and get my suit for the Gala made up. My wife was doing something similar; she’d already headed off to Carousel Boutique to see Rarity about making something for her.
Taking a somewhat later train, mainly because I tend to sleep in a little on Saturday mornings, I headed up to Canterlot. Normally, I would arrive in the city quite early, hail a cab, and be up at the top of the hill, heading through the palace gates before you could say ‘boo’. This time however, since I would be spending a fair bit of my time in the city proper, rather than the castle, I decided to walk.
In spite of how long I have been here in Equestria, and how long I have been an adviser to the princess herself, I still get odd looks from time to time. In other cities, I’d expect it; there are only two humans on this planet; to most ponies we remain something of an oddity. But you might expect that the ponies of Canterlot would have gotten used to me by now.
As I made my way along the open cobbled streets, I spotted a few faces here and there that I recognised. Mostly members of the nobility or other high society types that tended to frequent the castle. Most have at some point tried to sway me to their favour to some degree or another; a consequence of court intrigue I suppose. Quite a few of them would undoubtedly like to see the back of me. Mind you, there are plenty who I get along with. It would be wrong to write off all the nobles as being self-serving, uptight, backstabbing jackals. Quite a few I got on with, some I even call friends.
Working my way down a few side streets and back alleys, I quickly found myself in a less densely populated part of Canterlot. There’s no real lower class area; only the rich can afford to live in the city after all, but this neck of the woods was definitely far less frequented than other parts.
As I passed by a certain old oak door, with a red coloured lantern hanging near it, I made a right coming out into a moderate side street. I knew the ‘pony’ that lived and worked there, and had had a couple of dealings with her. I didn’t partake in her services of course, but every now and then our paths crossed.
Anyway, making one last turn, I finally reached my destination. This particular shop had been recommended to me by Rarity as an excellent gentlecolt’s tailors. Like its neighbours, the shop was tucked away and was quite unassuming with only a small hanging, hoof painted sign to advertise itself.
‘Elusive’s of Canterlot – Established 964 CR. Fittings and Alterations.’
Pushing open the modest front door, I heard a bell jingle above me slightly. Closing it behind me and making my way into the shop, I searched for the proprietor.
“Elusive?” I called out, he may well be in the back of the shop working on his designs. “Elusive, are you in here?”
The shop front was modest, but nevertheless indicated that I had come to a fairly high end establishment. There are many tailors and fitters in Canterlot, and other major cities like Manehatten. However, I still believe Elusive to be one of the best in his craft; certainly far superior to many of the larger stores that will try to send you on your way with a slightly altered off the rack jacket.
The whole storefront was lined with walnut panels, and luxurious red and gold wallpaper, and lit by a few magic lanterns scattered along the walls, with plush red carpet underfoot. Jackets, waistcoats, greatcoats, hats, scarves, and cloaks hung on mannequins arranged around the shop floor, with a number of styles on display; everything from formal evening-wear, right down to more mundane jackets and shirts. In a world where mass production is not commonplace, and often looked down on, ponies like Elusive still retain their status as artisans.
At the far end of the shop was the counter; a wood and glass affair that displayed a few other trinkets, such as cuff-links, tie clips, and watch chains. On the top sat the ancient, old fashioned till, along with a couple of fabric books for clients to look through, as well as an old sewing machine and a phonograph, which was playing some classical pieces. Off to the side, there were a couple of full length mirrors for ponies to try different styles. Behind the counter was the door that led to the back of the shop, where Elusive did most of his work, and also where he had his dressing rooms.
As I approached the counter, Elusive emerged, evidently having been working on some project or another. He was a short and lean unicorn stallion, with a white coat and well-trimmed purple mane, and large blue grey eyes that showed a keen intellect. He actually reminds me a fair bit of Rarity, although in contrast to her diamond cutie mark, his was that of a tape measure. There was an actual tape measure hanging around his neck, sitting in the collar of the deep red velvet waistcoat he was wearing. Elusive quickly recognised me.
“Ah, Roger, my old friend,” he said, greeting me with his usual accent, a mix of Manehatten with hints of Sifillyan. “Here for some alterations, are you? Or is it a bit of repair work?” I came here with a certain regularity, I must admit. Elusive is excellent at fixing minor damage, to the point that you would never guess that the rip or tear had ever been there. And I have an unfortunate knack for getting myself snagged, or finding myself running hell for leather though a drainage pipe as the case may be.
“No nothing so trite this time, Elusive,” I replied, smiling, and holding up my Gala invitation. “I need something befitting of the Grand Galloping Gala and I was told you could provide.” Elusive took on a look of surprise before quickly recovering.
“My, my, you are moving up in the world, aren’t you?” he said. He quickly made his way from behind the counter to come and stand with me. “So, do you have any ideas what you are looking for then?” I nodded.
“I’ve been to parties like the Gala once or twice on my old world. Usually I’d go with a full dinner jacket or something like that.” Elusive nodded, agreeing with me.
“Yes, most stallions that do make it to the Gala tend to go for a formal shirt and suit. Although I know a few who can get away with just a collar. But you, yes, you need a full suit I think. What about material?” Ah, here’s where I tend to fall down. I’m not that knowledgeable about fashion, even of my own gender. Luckily, Elusive is an expert. He quickly picked up on my silence.
“Hmm, well I think a lighter colour might suit you better first of all,” he offered. That made sense; my work suit was more of a charcoal grey; wearing a black suit just made me look horribly pale. Elusive briefly popped back behind the counter and retrieved one of his fabric books. Flicking through the pages as it hovered in his magic, he began to offer some suggestions.
“Here, this might be something that would look good on you; Sifillyan wool. It’s fairly strong, comfortable to wear, and breathes well.” I felt the sample piece, running the material between my fingers. It was very soft to the touch and felt thinner than it appeared. The material in this instance was much lighter than my work suit, but still a ways off from touching silver. I nodded to Elusive.
“Yes, it certainly seems a good bet. Do you have it in stock at the moment?”
“Not enough to do both the jacket and the trousers, I’m afraid. But I should be able to get it sorted and made up within the week.” Even with alterations, that would be plenty of time before the Gala. “I do think, though, that there may be a large sized jacket around here somewhere.” The stallion began to skirt around the mannequins in the store.
“Here we are,” He said, levitating a jacket off of its stand. “I know it’s not ideal, but this will give you an idea of how the colour will go and how the jacket sits.” A pony’s build is naturally quite different to my own. But in a pinch I can wear a jacket or jumper.
Settling it on over my shirt, the jacket draped loosely over me. The shoulders were naturally too wide and the sleeves too thick, particularly around the wrists. However, as Elusive said, it did give me an idea.
“Oh yes, very nice,” I said approvingly. “Gives a sort of Bond villain look.” I smiled, though my reference was lost on Elusive. I removed the jacket and passed it back to him to place back on the manikin. Elusive rubbed a hoof under his chin.
“Right then, that’s the material. I’ve got your measurements on file, though I would like to double check all that to be on the safe side. This suit will be a slimmer fit than your other suit; less room for error. You should be fine with a white shirt. Tie?” I thought. I had a few of course, but most of them wouldn’t go with the more formal nature of this gala suit.
“I’ll definitely need a bow tie for the dress code,” I replied. Elusive nodded in understanding.
“Yes, and it’ll have to be black to, or very close to it. I’m just a bit worried that a black tie will have the same effect as a black jacket, and make you look pale.” He paused for a moment. “Let’s try a couple for a moment, shall we?”
Rooting around in a couple of boxes, Elusive picked out a couple of bow ties. Proper ones too, not those clip on things. I just hoped I could still remember how to tie them. He passed one of them to me in his magic.
“That’s a light as I dare really, I’m afraid,” he said. “It has to be a dark colour, but it shouldn’t draw too much colour from your face.”
Tying a quick bow and pulling it taught, I turned to the mirror again. It looked perfectly fine to me. Elusive can be something of a perfectionist at times. So, I now had a white shirt, light grey jacket and a very dark grey bow tie. I looked the part.
“I think I can pull this off, Elusive,” I declared. “What do you reckon?” The white unicorn nodded in agreement and smiled.
“Right, that should be everything,” he said as he finished his notations. “If you’ll just come on back to my dressing room and we can double check your measurements.”
A few days later, and I was retracing my steps back to Elusive’s shop. Court had broken up for its usual lunchtime recess. I’d actually been quite busy today, with a couple of quite serious cases requiring my attention, and seeing me summoned to the throne room. The first had been an extremely bitter land dispute from way out in the bayou country, which had taken the better part of two hours to fully resolve. And the second was one of several new proposals from the princesses to roll back the more hard line anti-changeling laws that had been brought in after the Royal Wedding. With no signs of any further attempts at attack, and strong evidence to show that the changelings were a spent force, it was deemed time to start reducing some of the more extreme measures, which only served to add fuel to the paranoia fire.
With both of those cleared out of the way, I had decided to grab a quick lunch at Donut Joe’s, and then head to Elusive’s to pick up my suit. Following the familiar path through side streets and alleyways, I once again found myself outside his humble shop. This time, as I entered, the alabaster unicorn was busy hoovering the shop floor. He shut off the 1950’s looking appliance as I walked in.
“Ah, wonderful, perfect timing!” he said as he trotted into his back room. He returned a moment later. “Well come along, come along! Your suit’s all set up and ready for you to try on.” I followed him back to his dressing room.
Slipping the suit and tie on I turned to look at myself in the mirror for a moment; it certainly looked brilliant. Elusive had really outdone himself this time. Pulling back the plush curtain of the dressing room, I stepped back out into the shop to see the suit in a better light.
“As you can see,” Elusive said. “This is quite an improvement over the last suit I made for you. See, hoof crafted wool, reinforced seams, invisible stitching, and, naturally, silk linings.” I paused for a moment to examine myself in the full length mirror near the counter. Turning around a full three sixty, I smiled.
“As ever, Elusive, you outdo even yourself.” The stallion was still however double checking everything, ensuring the whole suit sat on me properly without any signs of sagging or tautness. Still, he quickly satisfied himself on that front.
“So, how much do I owe you?” I asked. I’d gotten a rough idea of pricing from last time, though naturally, given the materials he’d used this time, I expected it to be noticeably steeper. Elusive thought for a moment.
“Hmm, call it three hundred and fifty all in, I think,” he said. I was actually expecting a lot worse. I’d gone and asked Rarity about the material Elusive had been using, and she’d told me it was very high end, as in Savile Row high end. I quickly fished a bag full of bits out of my briefcase and counted out the amount for him.
“Right, you should be all set, my friend,” Elusive said, as he placed the suit in a specialised suit bag to protect it from the elements outside. “I hope you have a good time up there. Oh, and give dear Rarity my best.” I smiled and nodded as I made for the door.
“Will do. Thanks again, Elusive.” The bell jingled as I departed.
A couple of nights later, the wife and I were waiting outside our front door for our ride. As an advisor to Celestia, I was entitled to a ride in a castle chariot to and from Canterlot for the Gala, with she who must be obeyed along for the ride.
I was all set to go with my very nice looking dinner jacket, complete with matching trousers, dress shoes, tie, cuff-links, and even a display handkerchief. As one famous writer put it; I was neat, clean, shaved, and sober. And I didn’t care who knew it.
Margaret was equally done up, dressed to the nines in a very nice deep blue dress and cardigan made for her by Rarity for a nominal fee. This was complemented by a small faux pearl necklace, one of the many trinkets that had come through the portal when it had opened last new year’s. She’d even gone for a pair of high heels too; although being only five feet tall, it only raised her to about 5’2.
The clock in town was just beginning to strike half past five when the chariot descended from the clouds and touched down on our front lawn. It was the usual gold and white design that Celestia and the Royal Guard commonly made use of, with two pegasi in their resplendent armour hitched at the front.
“Good Lord!” I exclaimed. “And here was me thinking you two would be taking the night off tonight.” The two pegasi that would be our cabbies tonight were Duck and Cover. The two pegasus ponies were long serving members of the Royal Guard. They’d been transferred to pulling chariots after the pair, whilst on patrol in heavy fog, lost their bearings, almost collided with another patrol and nearly found themselves being scraped off the castle’s outer wall. Still, they are both good fliers and guardsmen.
“No such luck tonight!” Duck called back as we boarded.
“The princess is pulling out all the stops for the Gala. Security is pretty tight, so they needed a few extra hooves to help with transportation,” Cover added.
“Well, it’s only a short trip to Canterlot,” my wife replied consolingly. “At least you won’t be stuck standing at attention all evening.” The pair laughed at that.
“Very true, Mrs. Owen,” Dusk said. He then turned to his colleague “Right, let’s get going. On three okay?” And with that, we took off into the evening sky.
Canterlot Castle shone and glittered against the darkened horizon as we steadily descended to land in front of the palace gates. It was Celestia’s long standing policy to greet everypony when they arrived, whilst the ever present guards checked their tickets. The two pegasi that had hauled out chariot up here had done a great job. In spite of the cooler night time temperatures, and the wind, the ride had been smooth and comfortable for the two of us. As we came into land, the ponies flapped their wings harder to check out descent, ending with a gentle landing just outside the gates.
“Alright, here we are,” Duck said. “Just follow the queue to the main doors. Enjoy your evening, and we’ll pick you up in a few hours to take you home.”
“Thanks again, you two,” my wife said pleasantly. “Hang around when you get us back and I’ll fetch you a little thank you for your troubles.” With that, the duo departed, allowing the next chariot to land.
“Right, come along, dear,” I said. Taking her by the arm, the two of us worked our way along the path to the large main doors at the front of the castle. We soon found ourselves in a mid-sized queue that led up the steps. Evidently we’d arrived just as the big rush was starting. The ponies around us were dressed in attire similar to our own, with the stallions wearing expensive looking dinner jackets or collars, whilst the mares were resplendent in a menagerie of dresses, a few of which were undoubtedly of Rarity’s design. As we continued to work our way forwards, I saw two ponies that I recognised.
“Bones! Applejack!” I called out. The two ponies ahead of us promptly turned around to see who it was. Much to my enjoyment, my son quickly tried to conceal himself when he spotted me. I do love embarrassing him though. With Applejack dragging him along, the pair came over to say hello.
“Hey, Dad,” my son said, speaking with his marked southern accent that he’d adopted ever since he started living with the Apples. He was gussied up in a very nice jacket and shirt combo. An aqua coloured jacket, with an off white shirt. And for good measure, a light orange bow tie. The oddest thing though was his mane; for whatever reason, he dyed it so that it was bone white.
“Bones, you look positively ridiculous,” I declared jokingly. Still, at least it was formal attire.
“Ah thought the colour change might make me look a bit more distinguished,” he replied, fluffing his mane a little. It was odd to see him without his Stetson hat on, never mind his usual blue mane. “Besides, at least it doesn’t look as though my collar’s gonna cut off my air supply.” Luckily, at that moment, my wife turned our attention to Applejack.
“I see you sprung for one of Rarity’s dresses too, Applejack,” she said. The orange farm pony nodded.
“Rarity was kind enough to do a little work fixin’ this up. She made it for me back when we all went to the Gala that first year.” It certainly was a sight. Unsurprisingly, the mare had gone for an apple theme for her dress. It was very pretty, I’ll give it that, but anything more stretches far beyond my knowledge of fashion.
It was at that point that the four of us reached the front door and the princess. Unusually, she too had dressed herself up for the occasion. Celestia is not one to be seen to indulge in passing fashions. At previous iterations of the Gala, she had appeared in her typical crown, horseshoes, and regalia. Tonight though, she wore a rather impressive purple, violet, and lavender ensemble that hung loosely over her larger frame.
“Applejack, Blade Star,” she greeted the two ponies before us. “Wonderful to see you again.”
“Likewise, your highness,” my son replied, touching the brim of an invisible hat as a sign of respect. Celestia then turned her attention to the two of us.
“And my dear advisor. Welcome to the Grand Galloping Gala. Thank you for coming along too, Margaret.” The two of us bowed as protocol dictated.
“Thank you for inviting us, princess,” my wife replied.
“With Applejack here, that makes all of Twilight’s friends accounted for. Although I’m starting to wonder where Discord has gotten to. I sent him an invitation this year as well. Anyway, I shall see you two inside.”
We then left the princess to continue greeting all her guests, something she insists on doing personally, I might add. Heading inside, we found ourselves in the large open ballroom. The place was filled with ponies, all mixing and mingling. As we came in, a castle servant announced us both, which made she who must be obeyed blush quite adorably.
And so, the two of us happily mingled amongst the attendees of the gala. Having become friendly with a fair few of the nobles, as well as government types, and ponies within the Royal Guard, there were plenty of ponies for me to introduce my wife to. Quite early on, we joined my son, who had peeled off from Twilight and her friends with Applejack, to talk with Major Hartwin, a griffon officer temporarily seconded to Equestria as part of an officer exchange program. We also had a chance to talk with Twilight and her friends as well, including Fluttershy, who had brought along a friend of hers; Treehugger. I’m fairly certain the hippy mare was high as a kite. Ketamine maybe? They all seemed to be enjoying the gala a bit more than last time. I then ran into a very good friend of mine.
“Hello there, Steel!” I called as the two of us walked up to the unicorn. Wrought Steel was one of the top dogs in the CPS, a crown prosecutor. When cases were brought up to Day Court, he was usually first choice for prosecuting on behalf of the Crown. He was an average looking unicorn, with a silvery mane similar to the ghastly dye job my son was currently wandering around with. His cutie mark was of a balanced scales; a fitting emblem for somepony with such strong beliefs in justice and the law.
“Roger!” he replied, trotting over to us. “I heard that you’d been invited. And this must be Mrs. Owen.” He bowed slightly. “Charmed, I’m sure.”
“Wrought Steel here helped us put Trixie away for a year or two,” I explained. “He’s a damn fine prosecutor.” Steel smiled.
“Yes, one who currently takes orders from somepony who used to work for the dark side,” he replied, referring to my previous occupation as a solicitor.
There was only one person who was conspicuous by their absence; Discord. I hadn’t seen him all evening, despite Celestia’s insistence that she invited him. I assumed at first that he had either blown off attending because it would be too boring, or something had held him up. Neither was impossible. Princess Luna for instance, didn’t usually attend the gala as she had to continue holding her Night Court, since, with the moon high in the sky, the governing of Equestria now lay with her.
However, whilst I was mulling over this, the usual hubbub of conversation was drowned out by one of Celestia’s servants announcing Discord’s arrival.
The draconequus entered wearing a rather ostentatious orange suit. However, that was the furthest thing from my mind. Coming along with him was this…thing. It was a large blob of green gunk. Wearing a small bowtie and top hat, it appeared to be sentient, and followed Discord around. He introduced the odd looking creature as ‘The Smooze’. That got my son’s attention.
Bones went storming over to Discord and this ‘Smooze’, grabbed the former by his suit collar with his magic, and dragged him down to his level.
“Discord,” he said, in an oddly calm, quiet voice. “Please, tell me that is not what Ah think it is.”
“Oh, have you two met before?” Discord replied, grinning at the human turned pony. “You should have said something, dear boy.” This only served to irritate him more, not that any of his own magic could have much of an effect on the Spirit of Chaos and Disharmony.
“Ah’m sure this sounded like a good idea in your head,” my son continued. “But please, for the love of Celestia, take that thing away, and stick it back in the volcano ya found it in!” Discord merely nudged my son away, easily overcoming his magic.
“Oh pish posh, dear boy. The Smooze and I are good friends, like Fluttershy and…Treehugger.” His eyes narrowed for a moment as he glared at mare from the 1960’s. “It would be a shame to exclude him, don’t you agree.” Seeing he was getting nowhere with him, my son stormed off again.
And right over to Princess Celestia.
“Your highness,” he declared, interrupting her conversation with Twilight. “You need to get every single pegasus you can lay your hooves on in here right now. Royal Guard, Weather Patrol, civilians, even colts and fillies, everypony! Maybe that way we can get ahead of this thing.” The rest of that conversation was lost to me as I went to talk with Discord myself.
“Hello, Discord,” I greeted, smiling. “I was starting to think you weren’t going to show up.” Much to my surprise, Discord wrapped himself around in what I imagine he thinks is a hug.
“Oh hello, my dear friend,” he said with a false tone of happiness. Once again, he leered in the direction of Fluttershy.
“Erm, are you alright, Discord?” I asked, eventually managing to free myself from his boa constrictor move. This was odd, even for him. He was definitely mad about something, and judging by the veiled looks he was giving Fluttershy and her friend, it was about them. He did tend to spend a lot of time with the soft spoken pegasus. I had actually half expected him to attend the gala with her. Jealously maybe? She was his first friend after all.
“Oh, I’m perfectly fine, now that I’m with my good friend.” Yeah, something was definitely wrong with him.
Discord hung around me for a while before disappearing off with his gelatinous friend. My son meanwhile, was galloping around panicking about what Discord’s friend might do to Canterlot, leaving Applejack to tag along with her friends until he calmed down.
As it turned out though, my son was right on the money. Matters came to a head when The Smooze, engorged with shiny things it had eaten, covered most of the Gala in ooze. Worse still, the material seemed to possess magic dampening properties, so nopony, not even Celestia, could do much about it.
Discord continued to make trouble, eventually blowing up at Fluttershy over how Treehugger had taken precedence over him as her best friend. Then, in a rather idiotic move, he threatened to throw her into one of his pocket dimensions. For the record, this was still in this reality; despite his incredible magic Discord cannot reopen the portal back to Earth.
Luckily for all of us, Treehugger in particular, Fluttershy was able to calm the draconequus down again, and made him see reason. He was then kind enough to rein in The Smooze by way of an apology, though of course, it was too late to save the Gala. My wife and I, like everypony else and the entire room, were covered in sticky, gelatinous goo.
So, the party unceremoniously broke up. Most of the nobles had run for the hills as it was. However, I did need to talk to somepony rather crucially; a certain cello player who was, in some circles, known to take unusual requests.
I found Octavia packing away her cello, along with the rest of the small band that had been playing for the gala. Understandably, she looked quite annoyed, and was muttering something about how her roommate would have loved all of this.
“Octavia, can we talk for a moment?” I asked as I walked up. The grey mare looked up from her work.
“Oh, Mr…Owen, correct?” she replied. “Of course, what can I do for you?” I now changed my voice to a harder, more business like tone.
“You can take a message to Marelone for me.” Octavia balked, almost dropping her cello’s bow. Quite suddenly, she grabbed me and hauled me around to behind the stage, out of sight, and earshot, of anypony else. Getting on her hind legs, she pinned me against the wall.
“Do you want to repeat that? Just in case anypony didn’t hear you!” she exclaimed in a shouting whisper. “What business is it of yours in any case?”
“I have some work both you and him ought to be interested in,” I replied, doing my utmost to sound unruffled.
“Which is?” Octavia demanded.
“I need somepony lifted. Some of his ponies would be a great help,” I said. Dear God, I was walking an old road tonight.
“You have plenty of guards at your disposal,” Octavia countered. I shook my head.
“This one is much more elusive, and time is not on our side. Plus, your ability to operate outside certain norms is most useful. I assure you that all parties will be well compensated.” Octavia thought for a moment before replying.
“Alright, I’ll pass your message on. But tell me first, who is it?” I stared the mare down.
“You’ll be told. In good time.” Octavia held my gaze for a moment before releasing me and returning to her work.
That was another avenue opened; Marelone would contact me in his own time. He’s very human in his own way, hence why the two of us occasionally cross paths. As for the other possibility, it had actually been Celestia’s idea rather than mine, I would head down to Tartarus tomorrow.
With my little errand done, I returned to the little group of friends that had formed; Celestia, Twilight and co, Bones, and my wife. With the party over for all intents and purposes, we decided to head out somewhere in Canterlot. We eventually found ourselves at Donut Joe’s, a good little bakers and coffee house. There we all talked the night away until it was time to head home.
And that was my experience of the Grand Galloping Gala. All I will say is; never again. And I rather think the wife agrees.