The carriage rolled on, making its way through the streets of Canterlot as simply as a taxicab can. The day was getting truly started, and there were a number of ponies out and about, talking or travelling, arguing or smiling, even a jogger. The sunshine was warm and bright, and the pure beauty of the place came through. It was a day to be outdoors, and to love being alive and happy.
And Vylia Blackwater was miserable.
She sat back against the seat, gazing out the window and lost in thought. Illiad could feel her literally peeling back each layer of her mood and settling with it, though how couldn't be said, until she simply seemed sad. However, as their trip progressed, she seemed to naturally begin adjusting her poise and posture to more befit somepony of a higher station. Eventually, she was sitting as she was when he had first entered the carriage.
Her mood, however, had gone from black to simply dim, so it was a sort of improvement.
The carriage stopped at a curbside cab stand, and the driver looked back.
"Ma'am? This is where ya said ta go to."
Vylia blinked, then turned to Illiad. "I shall only be a moment, then we have something to discuss, you and I. Until then, feel free to order what you wish from the cart - my fare, my treat. Please stay put until I return."
She didn't even look as though she'd been crying anymore; it was beginning to show that where others might have seen a cold and mean-spirited mare, Illiad could now see she was a lonely social outcast - ironically, much like her son Dax.
She stepped daintily from the cab, and made her way safely across the street and into a small cafe.
The driver made small-talk with the mare running the straw dog stand; he was flirting, she was teasingly shutting him down - the two of them were rather taken with each other, emotionally. Illiad could feel the warmth of budding love there, even if they seemed like they were just messing with each other.
While Mrs. Blackwater’s change of mood wasn't quite the improvement Illiad was hoping for, it was a start. Hopefully a step in the right direction for her. He kept his hooves off the budding love, it was a complicated thing and he was no Cadence, there was a reason love was her talent.
After about twenty minutes, Vylia left the cafe, came back to the cab, and sat down once more. She had a large tan envelope in a fine leather satchel that she had not had earlier when she left.
"Driver?"
The cabbie looked back, nodded, said his goodbyes to his sweetheart, which she rebuked (while her heart secretly fluttered). He then turned and made his way back onto the road, heading east. Vylia, in the meantime, looked at the envelope with something between curiosity and a sense of... dread?... that wasn't easily discernible.
"Now, Mr. Easle... a question for you: what are your feelings on the subject matter of those who scarred you?"
Though her sad mood was still present, something in her seemed to slide into a much... darker... shade.
Illiad was surprised at the new line of questioning when Mrs. Blackwater returned. "I suppose I've made my peace with the incident, I wish them nothing but the justice they deserve. I don't really like to think about it and would really rather forget if I could, in a way the scars hinder me in making friends in a way you might understand, it's a constant reminder that there are few I can really trust with a secret, and that bigotry can often overcome even the bonds of friendship."
Vylia nodded, as if she had expected this answer.
"Of course, it's quite understandable that you've made peace with the incident; you'd have to, wouldn't you? I mean, there's not much in the way of justice over things such as that, is there?"
She turned her full gaze on him.
"But, you've settled with it because there is no way of getting justice available to you, is there? Well, there is for ME, Illiad Easle."
She gestured at the envelope.
"On a sheet of paper inside that envelope are the names, occupations and home addresses of three of those involved in that incident that scarred you. I had this information collected the very day I heard of the incident, and here are the fruits of that labor. I have not seen them, nor do I wish to..."
She looked seriously at Illiad.
"But, if you feel the need for justice, I can have these names searched for and every last little secret about them discovered - and then, released to whomever you wish; the proper authorities, rivals, newspapers... whatever you wish. However, I also offer to take this envelope and destroy it completely, forever shutting the doors on this incident and any form of justice that might be had from it."
She looked back out of the window.
"I leave the decision in your hooves, Mr. Easle; I offer you this as my stunted, skewed version of a present to you - because I do NOT suffer those who harm my children... and I won't abide by those who harm my Daxter's friends, either. But it's your call."
"I..." Illiad wasn't too surprised, in a way he had seen something of the sort coming, he was just glad that she hadn't done anything to them yet. "I'm honored that you would do this for me. Turn it over to the authorities, maybe something will come of it and maybe it won't. I don't really mind either way but it would be good to see them get the justice that’s been coming for them for so long."
Vylia looked a bit surprised at Illiad's decision, but she nodded.
"Very well - it shall go directly to the Canterlot Police Station, as you have asked."
Without another word about it, she put the letter and satchel away under the seat.
"Now, I did have a few more stops in mind, but... well, with the incident involving your parents, I'm certain you'd rather be back with Daxter, wouldn't you? I would understand, of course... but, well..."
She sort of looked over her shoulder at him; it was a saucy look, but there was no flirtatious intention whatsoever - though there was a longing there.
"... I... admittedly... don't truly get the chance to simply... talk... very often. Especially not in company I actually think well of... and I DO think well of you, Mr. Easle - I decided to entrust you with my child when you made him return to the table instead of merely ditching Oglevy and I at luncheon."
She grinned a bit at that. "A Mother's ears are sharper than a griffon's claws, you know."
"Which is why one should always act as if their mother could hear them, if you would like me to remain with you then I shall, I would love to help you in any way I can whether it be with actual errands or with situations similar to the one with my parents. It's a small thing on my part but I feel I must repay you for your generous hospitality thus far." Illiad was glad to see an improvement in Mrs' Blackwater's disposition, it would be slightly awkward to be a friend of Dax and his mom, but he supposed it wouldn't be too bad.
"Well... that's... that's quite gentlecoltly of you; I believe I shall take you up on your kind offer."
Physically, she straightened up in her seat a bit more and adjusted her gold-silk bow with a hoof - not much of a sign of anything. Beneath the cool and careful demeanor, though, was a wave of relief, a hooful of gratitude... and a touch of happiness.
"Now, there are a few shops on my list today; since you'll be assisting me, you shall have a new outfit for doing such and NO, I shall NOT take 'no' for an answer! After which, we can stop at a small cafe I know of with outdoor tables - such a beautiful day, it makes me think of going on a picnic!"
Didn't Dax say something about a picnic?
The thought of a picnic was familiar to him, perhaps Dax had suggested it but he couldn't clearly remember the circumstances. He was glad that her mood was continually improving, it was always good when he could brighten someone's day. "Alright then, I can accept a new outfit only if I have a say in how it looks when it's done. That said, where do you have on your list of places to be?"
Vylia smirked.
"Very well - you aren't a child, so you are QUITE welcome to define our own tastes. Besides - I am simply DYING to see what kind of fashion sense you have!"
Her mood was certainly on an uphill bend; there was another touch of Dax in her, as her excitement grew... yet she kept herself well-composed and calm, unlike her son.
"As far as where we shall be headed, I have a few things to accomplish. We are currently headed to the Chanteuse Curio Shoppe, where I have an order waiting for me to pick up... then, on to Gilded Gables where I have a few outfits that need to also be picked up... after such, there's a bit of... business... that I have to attend to... after such, it shall be a quick stop at the Post Office and the Police Station. From there, we shall have lunch, then return home. I do hope that isn't TOO much for you to accompany me on?"
Though her body language said she didn't seem to care one way or the other, Illiad could feel her gathering up hope for him to agree. It was beginning to seem like maybe NONE of the Blackwater family had any friends to speak of; if that was the case, then the Empathic may have to consider the possibility that he might end up befriending the entire lot of them if he wasn't careful!
Illiad found it somewhat saddening that he might be the only friend these ponies had, but if there was a bright side to this maybe then they'd take his advice and make more friends, though he found the thought of Mr. Blackwater taking the vice grip off his emotions unlikely, when he did the backflow would likely not be a pretty sight.
He nodded at Mrs Blackwater's comments, "That sounds like a reasonable amount of things to do before lunch. This shouldn't take too long at all actually and it is a wonderful day outside."
An actual sweet smile crossed Vylia's face AND heart... and in that moment, Illiad could see how really pretty she could be; not in a sensually attractive manner, but in a more innocent vein - not showgirl beauty, but laughing child beauty. Though she certainly did have both, in her own way... but now, she had a streak of joy running through her emotional signature, which was refreshing in it’s vigor... but not wild and free, like her son's.
"Thank you, Mr. E-... Illiad. I appreciate that FAR more than you know."
The joy was refreshing, but the sudden use of his name informally was a surprise, it looked like he was going to have to remember and perhaps use her first name now too, though he thought it fairly awkward to do so now.
She then cleared her throat, and said, "Driver! Onward to the Curio Shoppe, and I'll DOUBLE your pay if we arrive there tout-suite!"
The driver glance back over his flank at her with a confused look on his face. "Toot-what?"
Vylia giggled pleasantly. "Pick up the pace, good sir!" The driver did a VERY quick calculation in his head about how much 'double' would mean... and then, they were off.
The Chanteuse Curio Shoppe was actually a fancy word for an antique store, but a rich-blooded one. Though, glancing through the items for sale, there were a number of them that were impressively old and quite lovely. The prices were high, but not unreasonably so, considering the value of some of the things sold there.
That was where Vylia picked up a lovely carved rosewood Cuckoo Clock... with a HEFTY pricetag that Illiad saw in passing; if Vylia was buying things like this, how much wealth did she truly have access to? She had it giftwrapped in silver paper, with a purple bow. She slid it into the storage rack on top of the taxicab, and off they went yet again.
He wondered who the clock could be for for her to have had it wrapped, given the price and the fact that she seemed to otherwise have no friends there were very few it could be meant for. Did it happen to be Mr. Blackwater's birthday soon? That would certainly explain the situation.
The next stop was at the fine clothing shop, Gilded Gables. Inside, three very nervous-looking tailors tended to Vylia Blackwater's every request with gusto; they took measurements of Illiad, and after a bit of choosing, they wrapped his new outfit up for him.
The tailor was, in short, an uncomfortable experience for Illiad. He had forgotten since he was last measured in this way how invasive it was, the Trojan Toga needed only three measurements and none of them were particularly awkward to measure. (Illiad was secretly very ticklish, especially on his chest between his forelegs but he wasn't about to tell anyone that.) But in the end he had a very nice suit, one he could wear to formal occasions outside of the Trojan sands if the occasion ever occurred.
All the while, the Blackwater matron spoke about a number of things... yet inside, she was simply happy to have company who didn't judge her. Her talking seemed to be her way of giving herself an air of comfort and even a sort of regality; yet even she gave Illiad time to speak, listening and asking fair and intelligent questions.
Illiad was glad that she had started to care about what he had to say in an informal sort rather than in an investigatory route, though he didn't doubt that there was a bit ulterior to her questions, some hidden secret she hoped he would spill. But he couldn't see anything yet.
The next place the cab stopped was outside of a small park, where Vylia promised "I'll just be two shakes, dearie," before walking off to a bench where she sat, seeming to be simply biding her time. Almost instantly, another mare strolled up and took a seat, adjusting her headphones a bit and taking a rest from jogging, or so her outfit would lead one to assume... but Illiad, being from a place where heat meant sweat, saw not a drop on the jogger.
The two seemed to casually exchange words, then laughed together as the jogger stood up, waved, and went about her merry way... however, the envelope she'd left behind on the bench vanished into Vylia's hooves and under her wing in a flash. She then stood herself, and came back to the cab. The whole thing had taken about seven minutes.
After getting the driver moving again, she slid the envelope out from her wing and under her seat, with the rest of her things. She smiled at Illiad; it didn't seem as if the envelope had a single thing to do with him.
The encounter at the park was quite odd to him, first of all because very few Canterlot nobles would dare to exercise in public, they would all have the public believe they were born with perfect forms and never had to worry about their figure while they exercised in exclusive secret gyms. In addition, this seemed quite staged, a clear passing of secrets to anyone looking closely but a casual meeting to anyone else. He wondered what was in the envelope that was so important it could not be mailed.
The post office is where they went next, and Vylia ended up having an envelope to send herself. When she returned to the cab, she explained, "I DO understand that Taps is a very capable Pony Express mare... but she often seems to know more than she lets on - so my more delicate communications, I send directly; I want to know for sure if she's reading the mail before I even begin to accuse her of such."
Illiad thought it silly that Mrs. Blackwater trusted the Equestrian Mail service over a Pony Express employee, it seemed paranoid but perhaps it was somewhat justified.
The police station was next, and Vylia presented what she had to a somewhat bewildered detective stallion who stood there looking at it and scratching his head as Vylia and Illiad left. Back in the cab once more, she turned to face Illiad.
"So, what sort of cuisine would you care to sample, hmmmm? Name it, and we shall be there!"
Illiad thought for a moment what he could be hungry for, he didn't want to seem low class by requesting commoner fare but he also was not entirely fond of the high class cuisine so prevalent in Canterlot. "I would request typical Trojan dining but I know from experience that that can't be found her at any decent quality. A certain dish does come to mind though if you know a place that serves griffons, I've found the vegetation version of their Chicken Divine to be quite delicious. Though I understand if griffon cuisine would be an impossibility here."
She looked thoughtful, but after a moment, she smiled broadly.
"There... may... be hope yet. I know a few griffons, and I'm certain I could have something arranged - it would mean a bit of work, but I do believe the results would be worth the trouble. Very well, I shall do exactly that! Driver?"
He cast a glance over his flank. "Yes ma'am?"
"Driver, would you be so kind as to make a stop over at the Buck & Wing, please?"
"Sure thing, ma'am."
Vylia sat back and gave a sigh, while emotionally he could feel her dulling, dimming, then completely blanking her feelings again; apparently, this simply WAS how she dealt in public, though it was still somewhat creepy.
As they passed the Post Office again, Illiad caught sight of two guardstallions, escorting a very angry-looking pony to a paddy-wagon in chains. Vylia looked out of the window at this, and laughed merrily.
"And so the rat falls into the trap! I must admit, I didn't think I would actually SEE the fruits of my labour - but this is WONDERFUL! Let this be a lesson to them; Vylia Blackwater isn't as foolish as they think, mmm?"
She laughed until the paddy-wagon was out of eyesight.
Illiad wondered what was going on with the angry pony, he wasn't sure if it was one of the ones from the attack or the result of some personal vendetta that Mrs. Blackwater had. But he wasn't about to ask about it even if he was curious.
The Buck & Wing was actually a rather high-class restaurant, and had a reputation for being THE place to go for some of the finest dishes Canterlot had to offer to the non-elite masses. Vylia had the driver pull up to the curb, then excused herself for a moment as she stepped out to speak to the doorpony. After a bit of a conversation, she went inside.
For a few minutes, Illiad and the driver simply sat there. The cabbie felt a bit uneasy, simply standing there, but he didn't complain.
After a moment, Vylia came back out of the restaurant... and the moment she got into the cab, the Trojan could feel her trying to hide what felt like shame; she simply smiled at Illiad and said, "Well, we will have to wait a bit, but it shall be inbound momentarily! Driver, if you would be so kid as to bring us to the rear alleyway, please?"
He gave her a strange look, but he complied.
As they settled in behind the building, Vylia was feeling a bit of discomfort and still more shame, but she showed no outward sign of such. She smiled at her guest.
"They're rather busy today, but I know a few ponies who owe me a favor or two - it'll only be a moment. So, what shall we chat about?"
Illiad looked around the building before responding, "Nice place this, I don't think I've been here before."
He wasn't about to address her shame in a way that eavesdroppers would discover he was empathic.
"If I might ask, why the rear alleyway? If you're trying to keep me out of the public eye I appreciate it but am unsure as to whether it is really necessary."
Perhaps if he could discover the source of her shame he could help clear it up.
"Oh, this? Well dearie, I did relate to them that we were in a bit of a hur-"
She stopped, looking at Illiad right in the eyes... then she sighed and looked down.
"No, no... that's a... that's a lie."
She looked back up at him.
"I know a few of the cooks here, mostly because of our charity work, and they're always happy to bring me something, but... the owner has a presence here in Canterlot, and he... he does not want Blackwater business."
It was awkward, but she was obviously telling the truth.
"So instead, I requested what you asked for, and it shall be delivered forthwith. Perhaps we can simply make a time of it, eating here as we roll on through town; the sights will be lovely, I'm sure!"
Though she sounded as if it didn't bother her much, her emotions told the Empathic she was expecting him to disapprove.
Illiad actually raised his eyebrows he was so surprised. "Given my previous interactions with nobles they don't really care where their money comes from, money from an enemy is especially desirable in their eyes as it is more for them and less for you as a sort of thing. He must dislike Blackwaters sincerely to refuse to take your money." Illiad gave a slight smile. "You're really going out of your comfort zone for me and I really appreciate it. If I had known what this would mean to you I wouldn't have asked for it. Hopefully I'll be able to show your son a good enough time in Troy to repay your exceeding hospitality. I will certainly do all I can."
He looked around the place, "So, are we going to have to worry about him catching us?"
He tried to convey that he felt nothing shameful about the current events, sure the chefs might be technically stealing from their boss but wrongs deserve rights and good deeds deserve others. It would all balance out in the end from his perspective.
"Yes... well..." Vylia fidgeted for a moment; she was actually caught QUITE by surprise at Illiad's comments. "... Blackwaters tend to be seen socially as... shall we say, 'undesirable company'?... and as such, there isn't much call for us to be seen with anypony; anypony who wishes to BE somepony in Canterlot, that is. And mind you, THIS is how it was when I first married Luther; all this skulking around took years to perfect, you know... not exactly what I had WANTED to do when I first came to Canterlot, but..."
She shrugged prettily.
"Usually, I simply chalk it up to THEIR loss - those that have bothered to get to know us are very pleased to have done so, I've noticed. Perhaps a bit intimidated, yes... but still pleased, all the same."
The rear door opened, and a mare dressed in a waitstaff outfit looked around suspiciously.
"Ah! A moment, Illiad..."
Vylia left the cab and met with the mare. They spoke for a moment, then the waitress smiled, followed by Vylia's tinkling laughter. They parted ways, and when Vylia returned to the cab, there was a carefully folded sack that she placed gently next to him on the seat.
"There you are! Do help yourself, Illiad - it's as fresh as you'll ever have it!"
Vylia didn't seem to have anything to eat herself; she seemed content that HE had something, and it seemed to be enough.
"Go ahead, dearie - you have GOT to tell me how it is. You certainly made it sound rather tasty..."
Illiad was surprised to see it served in a sack, but he supposed it was the cost of doing business this way. He was happy to find it was on a plate with a fork and spoon, all disposable of course, when he opened it. He breathed in deeply as the slightly tangy aroma filled the carriage. It smelled slightly like thousand island dressing, cream cheese, and some other thing that defied description, in all it smelled heavenly, likely the cause of the name. It was a large pile of rice topped with a thick, lightish brown, sauce that still had some unmelted bits of cream cheese in it.
Illiad took a small bite, carefully mixing the sauce and the rice to a good consistency. And a wide smile came to his face. "This is almost as good as when my mother makes it, though I'm sure it would taste better with the chicken to one used to it." He quickly took another bite before gesturing to the spoon as he was using the fork. "Please, you can have some if you like, it would be rude of me to eat all this while you have nothing. It is thanks to you that I have it after all."
Vylia lifted an eyebrow, but a smile like the sun lit up her features as she took up the spoon.
"Thank you kindly... I was hoping, but... well, it wouldn't be proper to seem as if I were begging off of your plate, now would it?"
She let loose a giggle, then took a dainty spoonful and tried it. Her eyes closed, and she simply allowed it to sit for a moment on her tongue, then began to chew slowly. Eventually, her eyes opened, and she gave a grin.
"This is quite nice... I especially like the cream cheese; thank you, Illiad. I shall have to make certain to seek out the recipe - Vegetarian Chicken Divine, you say? Delicious, dearie!"
Inside, she was simply happy to have somepony offer to share their food with her... outside, it must have been the truest version of Vylia Blackwater he'd seen since he arrived. Who she was inside really wasn't that bad, after all... maybe ponies DID have the wrong idea about the Blackwater family as a whole - not just poor Dax.
But then, why did Luther do what he did to his son? What did he think such an act would accomplish, other than separate his own child from the world around him? Luther may have been cold on the outside, but Illiad knew how much he cared for his son - he'd nearly been bowled over with it. So why would the Blackwater patriarch put his child through that kind of trauma?
It didn't add up... but it didn't have to right now; he was with Vylia, and it would be rude to have his mind wandering too far off track.
She ate roughly a third of the meal, and then politely thanked him once more for allowing him to join her. She hadn't hated it, but the Trojan got the impression that she enjoyed the company more than the food. She sat back, carefully patting her lips with a dark green hankerchief before speaking again.
Illiad ate at the same time as Mrs. Blackwater, so he finished the dish not long after she was done eating.
"Tell me, please... about this political race you're involved in. When I said I was surprised, it was because it hadn't come up at... luncheon the first day; I'd have thought you would have mentioned such. Unless, of course, I was going on again - I DO have that tendency, I know. But, truly; I would like to hear WHY you've gone into this - you, specifically. What drew you?"
Illiad was surprised by and not entirely sure how to answer this line of questioning. In truth the reasons why he had agreed to run with Midget was because Luna recommended it in response to his visions of the future. Dark times were coming, and the best course of action was to have him and Midget there when it occurred. To say so would require him to then explain his position and relationship with Luna, and while he was beginning to trust Mrs. Blackwater he did not trust her quite that far.
"Well, for as much as Troy has done for me I always wanted to really give back to it. Midget has been my friend for as long as I have lived there, he being the one who approved my immigration in the first place, so when he asked me to run with him as his assistant it was the perfect opportunity for me to give back to the community. Also, I'm slightly afraid what Iron Hoof would do if elected to another term, he's talked about war with Equestria and he may not be afraid to start it if he has more time."
Vylia gave a start. "WAR? Is he serious? What good would THAT accomplish, I ask you? Is he trying to infuriate Royalty, or does he honestly believe he has a chance? By Celestia, it sounds quite serious."
She pondered this point for a bit, then nodded to herself, seemingly making a decision.
"Well, I would like to hear what you plan to do about it - or at least what your compatriot Midget plans to do, at any rate. Tell me, how have the two of you been campaigning against this Iron Hoof character?"
Illiad gave a sad sigh, "By my accounts, Troy does have a good chance of winning even if we don't strike first, but only if the griffon kingdom is on our side or stays out of it. As to why, Since Celestia has refused to recognize us as a country she similarly wont recognize our borders, leading to many confrontations on said border between the guards. Appaloosa was a prime example of this disrespect, not only to us but to the buffalo as well whose lands she allowed the settlers to steal. Iron has held on to that trespass for some time. War would enable us to solidify our borders and make it so Celestia cannot deny our existence any longer. I don't think it’s worth it but Iron and a small portion of the community agrees. As to what Midget and I are doing is playing the opposite, emphasizing how Celestia's actions against us have actually helped us at her expense. Our allies through shared distrust, the increased cost of trade leading to thousands of bits leaving their country for our goods. Overall the community doesn't want war so we continue with peace as our platform."
Vylia looked (and felt) a bit alarmed by this news... but, after a moment, her muzzle took on a thoughtful look.
"Well, I'm not one to condone war... but, if the issue is the border disputes, then why not reinforce the borders? After all, if the walls are strong enough, you won't need a Princess to tell the ponies of Equestria that Troy is its own nation - it'll be obvious for anyone to see."
She nodded to herself.
"I'm certain a nation like Troy has more than enough funds to be able to support such a project, don't they?"
Illiad shrugged. "While we have the funds, there are other reasons why a wall is not a practical solution. The first being that there is no way your princess would allow us to build a wall on what she has declared to be her land, even if it is within our borders. That makes it a dangerous environment for the wall builders as they would be no doubt harassed by Equestria's border patrols nonstop. Further, a wall would make it more difficult for us to continue our secret trade practices which would effectively reduce our national income. And I don't think your princess would appreciate having so many garrisons so close to her border. She may see it as an act of aggression on our part to justify her going to war with us. I just hope that the situation can be resolved peacefully. With Luna back your princess may finally get over her grudge and allow peaceful communication and trade between our nations."
Vylia pondered his response for a bit, her mind racing even as she sat there looking calm and collected.
"Hmmmm... well, that certainly DOES offer a challenge, doesn't it? But perhaps there are still means and ways... have you possibly considered simply building these garrisons where they cannot be seen?"
She giggled at her own thoughts. "Of course! My dear Illiad, could you not put them underground?"
"Being as Troy is a dry area, from what I've gathered, the prospect of digging tunnels in sand may seem a bit intimidating, but the idea does have merit, mind you. If these garrisons were underground, even if only a few of them, they would not only provide response expedience, but they would maintain their cool temperatures - making them far more hospitable to the Trojan Guard. Of course, all of this on top of the certain advantage of having the element of surprise in a skirmish... all things considered, it would be a brilliant strategy for both keeping the peace AND ensuring Troy is protected without jeopardizing your trade interests."
She looked at the stallion next to her. "And don't try to tell me digging in sand is an impossible venture, dearie - the quarry itself has a method for doing so... and I am certain Luther would be more than willing to share that information with you. After all, if there's ANYPONY who would understand all there is to know about digging..." She trailed off, the rest of the statement being obvious.
She then gave Illiad a bit of a skeptical look. "SPEAKING of 'anypony', I've taken note of something... perhaps you can enlighten me? I notice you don't use the typical equine indentifiers... more precisely, you don't say things like 'anyPONY'. I was wondering if there's any particular reason for that - or is it simply a vocal affectation?"
Illiad gave a slight smile as he waved his hoof. "Believe me, Troy is well defended, but the nature of that is not something I am at liberty to discuss with non-citizens I'm afraid. As to my general Identifiers, I guess it's something I picked up from life in Troy. To say anyone is far more inclusive and welcoming than to say anypony. Troy is the home of a vast array of creatures other than ponies so it would be exclusive to speak in such a manner. I heard that Celestia came up with those after the unification of the tribes to bring them together in a common Us/Them arrangement of Ponies/non-ponies." He seemed to shake himself from his ramblings. "I'd hardly wish to bore you with this, is there another place we have to go that I'm holding us back from?"
She shook her pretty head. "No, no... we are on the way home as it is; it's already after lunch, and I'm sure Daxter is positively RABID to find out where you've gotten to. I believe I've kept you far too long today... but I do thank you for your company. I..."
She grinned a bit shyly, which was strange yet endearing in its' own way.
"... I don't typically get company that isn't nearby for a handout or such. You're so kind - I do wish I could help your political situation more, but it sounds as if you don't need my help - and possibly wouldn't want it, either. Such as it is, I suppose."
She shrugged lightly.
"I am used to that, dearie - I understand that the elusive upper-crust will always be out of reach for me. And... it does hurt. But I can either dwell on such a thing, or I can move along until I find somewhere I can put myself to use; I would rather stay busy than have time to cry, you know."
Already, the outskirts of Canterlot were falling behind them. Vylia kept her gaze turned out the window, her emerald eyes casting their glance across the forests and rivers below. There was a ribbon of melancholy in the mare, but it wasn't intense; merely sad, at something missed or left behind, it was difficult to say... but nothing that felt dramatically serious.
"I suppose it's simply one of the things one must deal with when they're shunned, for whatever reasons... whether it's because of their reputation, such as myself, or because of something extra special about one, like yourself; the reasons hardly matter to the one suffering through them, eh? Still - perhaps I'm better off left to my own devices; I have my husband and my children, and if they're the only ones who will tolerate my company, then... so be it."
She gave a slight nod to herself; the emotional ache was still there, but she was purposely ignoring it.
Looking sidelong at Illiad for a moment, she gave a bit of a half-grin. "Well, with so many secrets and political aspirations, it seems as if you have quite a LOT of secrets; pray tell, is there anything you CAN speak of fully, or shall we simply ride home in companionable silence?"
Illiad was annoyed that she continued to beat down on herself for her social situation but she didn't show it. He was satisfied that he had made at least some positive difference in her life.
As to the secrets, "Well, if I were free to share them they wouldn't really be secrets now would they? I'm fine to remain in silence but I would be happy to answer any more questions I can that you have."
The Blackwater mare gave Illiad a bit of a tired smile.
"No, it's fine - far be it for me to continue to pry where it's obvious there's simply too much for me to pick at; any further secrets you hold are safe from me."
After a moment's though, however, she spoke up again.
"Actually... I wanted to know the answer to a simple question... hopefully an answer that isn't classified as top secret." She gave a slight chuckle; a bit of snark showing, but nothing truly angry.
"Why did you do this thing - the exchange, I mean - when there is SO MUCH going on in your life right now? For certain, Daxter is EXTREMELY grateful you have... but it doesn't add up for me. I don't understand why you would participate in something like this,that has uprooted you from your busy and important life for a week AND will send you home with company for yet another week... with what I've heard, you are extremely busy. WHY would you do this?"
Illiad thought for a moment. "Well, I guess it's because I'm so busy that I decided to go along with it. It horses me to take a break from my normal life and be myself for a bit before I have to really bite in to the role of a politician for the next couple of months. It also advances my goal of looking like someone who is both open to good relations with our neighbors as well as someone who can be a good face for our culture to the outside world. Important characteristics for the head of state. I also thought I could do some good by going through with it, to learn about another culture and share my own, a chance to really have an impact on the lives of individuals."
She lifted an eyebrow skeptically, yet wasn't at all irked by the answer... more curious than anything.
"And so... it's certain you've shared your culture with us... but, do you believe YOU have picked up any culture from us? Have you impacted us? Have you learned anything from us at all, or has this endeavor been clearly one-sided?"
Illiad looked away slightly, thinking hard on his experience thus far to see if anything had really impacted him then he remembered something. "Actually, this exchange has changed me as well. I neglected to mention that when I decided to be part of this I was in a bit of a depression, the excitement had finally worn away from my new life and I found myself anxious and worried that I didn't belong, that I could never really belong. But in Daxter's responses, the clear excitement he wrote in, I felt like I was worth something. Like I could be successful and wanted by even those who had just met me. Every letter I received was a high-point of my night. And my time here has been even more fulfilling. The last time I felt so wanted was back with my own family. Your family has done more for me than I can ever hope to repay. All I hope is that I can help Daxter to feel the same way." He looked over at her with a slight smile. "I hope that satisfies your question."
A bit of surprise jumped in Vylia... and not an unpleasant one, either. Then, came a soft warmth that Illiad hadn't quite felt from her before. She smiled sweetly, and put a hoof on the Trojan's shoulder.
"From what I have seen, I think it's less that you're finding that you belong... and more that you're having a chance to discover you may be right where you belong, as well. For what it's worth, I think you will make a fine representative for your constituents... and a good stallion, all around."
She smirked. "All the better for Silver, eh?" Her teasing giggle was all meant in good humour.
The walls of the quarry were now looming large over the taxi; the cabbie slowed down out of sheer reverence (and a dab of fear) at the enormous gates as they passed beneath them. They took the side trail, and made their way up to the manor proper. Waiting by the front doors, side by side, were Beck and Call. The identical twins looked relieved to see their employer... and a bit puzzled to see her with Illiad.