Chapter Fifty-Nine - Noble Opposition (Part One)
“Sorry I didn’t make it over here sooner. I keep meaning to come, but Mom and Dad’ve had me watching the shop nonstop for a while now. Rosebud had to quit.”
“S’all good. Work is kind of a first priority. Flare and Harmony haven’t made it here yet, either.”
Daisy rolled her eyes. “I know, but I still wish I could’ve gotten here sooner.”
Cotton let out a sigh. “Well, you’re not missing much.”
Tilting her head, Daisy asked, “What do you mean?”
“Like, nobody has come in. I’ve had maybe three or four ponies come in so far; two of them were ponies from the court, and one of them works in the shop a few blocks over where I get my coffee. Then one came in from a recommendation, but that’s it. Oh, and Missus Stitch came in once.” When Daisy cocked a brow, she added, “The old mare that laid into my old boss.” The filly nodded at that. “It’s been a week. I was hoping word of mouth would move faster than that.”
Daisy’s eyes widened. “Wait, seriously? After a week, that’s it?”
“Well, the folks upstairs have dropped in a few times, too, but that doesn’t count.”
“Haven’t the Princesses been saying anything about this place in the court?”
Cotton shook her head. “No, I told them not to. Some ponies from the court already knew about it, but that’s because they’d come down this block at some point while I was setting up. They haven’t come, though. I want this place to make it on its own, not because my aunts are giving me royal endorsements or making all kinds of decrees saying that ponies have to come. I can just see my Aunt Luna doing it: ‘Thou shalt visit Our niece’s bakery and partake of her delectable desserts or be fined one hundred bits!’ Honestly, I wouldn’t put it past her.”
Daisy giggled. “I guess I understand that. But that’s really all the customers you’ve had?”
“Well, some of the castle guards that helped me set up came by, too. Their families like my stuff as much as they do. I don’t charge them, though.”
Raising a brow, Daisy asked, “Why not?”
“Seriously?” Cotton deadpanned at her. “They helped me put this place together. The least I can do is give them some free sweets. I mean, I wouldn’t charge any of the other guards, either. Same deal with them; it’s the least I can do for all the things they do for us.”
“I mean, okay.” Daisy shrugged. “But if you’re never gonna get any more custom— I mean, uh—”
“No, I gotcha,” Cotton interrupted her. “S’all good. I mean, it’s not like I actually need the bits right now; I just wanna do something other than stay in the castle. It’s just… a little discouraging, y’know?”
Daisy nodded. “Yeah, I get it. At least you get to make your own hours. I mean, not that I don’t like working at the flower shop, I just don’t have a ton of free time now.”
“Yeah, neither do Flare or Harmony. Work and school eat up a lot of time. And I think Harmony’s aiming to get into my aunt’s school, so she’s studying extra hard.”
“Princess Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns? I thought you had to start there when you were younger after taking some kind of test. Like, between eight and ten or something.”
Shaking her head, Cotton responded, “No, she changed that rule. I mean, my Aunt Twilight went in when she was like, five, I think. She was an exception, obviously, but whatev. Harmony can get in if she does really well at C.U.”
“Well, that’d be pretty sick. Imagine if— Hey, who’s that? It looks like a noble.”
Cotton looked out the window and found a white, blond-maned unicorn wearing a black collar with golden studs, walking with proper posture, approaching the corner from across the street. He seemed to have perhaps only a few years on the two of them. Cotton’s eyes widened as she replied, “Holy horseapples, that’s Blueblood.”
Both her brows rising, Daisy asked, “The Third?”
“Yeah.”
Moments later, the unicorn walked into the shop through the propped door, wearing the ghost of a scowl. “Hello, ‘cousin.’”
“Uh, hello, cousin Blueblood. How are you?”
The stallion nodded his head. “I am doing well. Aunt Celestia pressed the importance of making an appearance at your establishment, so I am here at her request.”
Cotton raised a brow. “Um, thank you?” When Blueblood simply stood there, she added, “Uh, do you want to try something?”
“Hmph. While I am here, I may as well.” He looked at Cotton’s case, then her pricing board. “You seem to be charging two bits for a chocolate chip cookie.”
Smiling, Cotton reached for a cookie and responded, “For family, no charge. Here, give it a try. They’re my specialty.”
His own brows rising briefly, Blueblood took the cookie from her. “Two bits… pocket change,” he mumbled. He took a large bite, chewing for a moment before he swallowed. He cocked one brow before putting the rest of the cookie in his mouth, chewing for a bit longer and shifting his eyes back and forth. After a time, he finally swallowed, then he shrugged a shoulder. “I’ve had better.”
Daisy furrowed her brows as she stood up. “What? You can’t be serious! Those are—”
“Woah, Daisy, chill,” Cotton cut her off. “He’s entitled to his own opinion.”
“Well it’s a bad opinion.”
Cotton waved a hoof. “No, constructive criticism is good.” She turned back to Blueblood and asked, “What do you think I could do to make them better? Less sugar? More chocolate?”
Blueblood shrugged a shoulder again. “As if I bake. Just make them better.”
“Madre de Solis, I’m gonna—”
“Daisy, seriously, stop.” Cotton sighed. “Would you like to try a slice of pie instead?”
“Really? You’re gonna give him something else?”
Cotton put up a hoof. “Hey, like I said, constructive criticism is good.” She looked back at Blueblood and asked, “So what strikes your fancy? There’s key lime, apple, coconut crème, blueberry… There’s chocolate, too, but you probably won’t want that if you didn’t like the cookies.”
Daisy growled under her breath.
“I will sample the coconut crème.”
“Okay. Gimme a sec. Just have to cut it.”
Blueblood scoffed. “You should keep your wares pre-cut if you wish to serve your patrons quickly.”
Cotton raised her brows as she took the pie out of the case. “That’s actually a really good point. Thanks.” She turned to Daisy and said, “See? Constructive criticism.”
“Fine, I guess that’s true,” the filly grumbled.
Moving to the other side of the register, where a small cutting block had been situated, Cotton took out a pie server and cut a piece of the pie out of its tin, put it on a plate, stuck a fork next to it, and placed it on the counter. “Tell me what you think.”
Blueblood cocked a brow, then lifted the plate and fork in his aura. After shaving a piece and placing it in his mouth, he chewed twice, then cringed before spitting it onto the floor. Cotton recoiled at the reaction. Putting the plate and fork on top of the counter, Blueblood pushed it forcefully across the glass, where Cotton caught it in a hoof before it shattered on the floor.
“Blegh! I wouldn’t feed this to the filth at the orphanage. There’s no saving that.”
Cotton and Daisy’s eyes both shot open. Daisy quickly glanced at Cotton, then at Blueblood, then back to Cotton.
Cotton’s eyes narrowed as Blueblood turned his head away with a ‘hmph.’ She took a deep breath, then gently pushed the plate forward again. “Blueblood, please, give it another try. Maybe it’s an acquired taste.”
As Daisy opened her mouth, Cotton stuffed a hoof in it.
“Please. I wouldn’t dare let that garbage touch my tongue again if you paid me.”
Cotton let out a quiet huff. She took the plate and put it on the cutting block, where the rest of the pie still sat. She then picked up the tin and held it in her hoof. “Oh, no, please...” Her brows furrowed and her eyes narrowed once again, then the tin found itself airborne.
“I INSIST!”
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Ha! Suck it bluebells. Although as much as I like seeing him take a pie to the noggin, I can't help but feel that it was a bad move. Oh well. Who knows? Maybe a bunch of the mares he offended will hear of it and drop by to by a snack say a word of thanks for it.
Blueblood the Third? Ah, that explains the cutie mark (The Blueblood we all loathe has a compass rose mark)
Oof
The apple didn't fall far from the tree at all. It practically landed on the root.
Upside of being your own boss: You can set your own hours.
Downside of being your own boss: You have to work all the hours you set.
... I always pictured the scars worse
10383658
It depends on who's doing the art work.
Excuse me I need to have a word with prince blueblood.