Yes, Princess

by The Usurper

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[Ed: Shortly after the events of the Ahuizotl incident, Princess Sparkle found herself in a difficult situation. She had the conviction to do what she deemed necessary, but High Councillor Mente - and by extension, the entire Civil Service - was no longer inclined to underestimate her. Indeed, many of Mente's private notes around this time period reflect an expansion and consolidation of inter-Ministry cooperation and coordination in the Civil Service, in preparation for what he believed to be a protracted fight.

However, in the midst of this Civil Service activity, the Court was not idle either. They were obliged to organise proper festivities for the arrival of Prince Shining Armour from the Crystal Empire, and since the invitation was extended on such short notice - an unprecedented situation - that left no time to prepare beforehand. As such, the actual ceremony was held only a few days later. The Palace did not release a list of guests, instead keeping it open for any and all attendees, since there was simply not enough time to compose such a list.

From this haste on the part of the Court was the metaphorical chink in the metaphorical armour of the Civil Service created. And the metaphorical arrow that pierced this metaphorical chink was to shape the events of Princess Sparkle's reign for a long time after.]

---

27th December 2013

It's just been two days after the whole Ahuizotl thing. And happily, as it turns out, there are some pleasant ramifications of inviting a dignitary from another country over to the Palace. I hear the royal cooks are scrambling to prepare only the best food for the occasion. I can't wait. Not to mention that it's been a while since I got to spend any sort of time with my BBBFF.

Of course, since this is an official function I still won't have much time to spend with him, but as always it's better than nothing. And afterwards maybe we can have some alone time, just to ourselves. Hopefully it won't be interrupted by national crises or anything like that. I've had my fill of eventful days for a good, long while. I'm almost happy to get back to hitting the paperwork again, so long as I wouldn't have to deal with another Ahuizotl.

But anyway, that's all for after the party. Or as much of a party as it could be called, given the fact that it was organised by the same ponies who organised the Gala. I'm looking forward to Shining, the food, and not much else. And after today's briefing with Mente and Ician, I've come to the conclusion that this whole celebration is probably more trouble than it's worth. It says something when the 'bare minimum you have to know' consists of five books so thick that they would probably be a lot taller than me if I bothered to stack them up.

But to be fair, I do have a lot more to do as a Princess. I have to greet all the guests, sit through a proper introductory ceremony where Shining is officially welcomed, say a few words (which really means a speech - thankfully Ician is taking care of the script for me), declare the celebrations open, and then sit at the head of a long dinner table where I have to remember which fork to use for the salad, which spoon to use for the soup, and basically how to properly behave at a formal meal. I've never been more thankful for the etiquette lessons I used to have in the Palace back when I was studying at Celestia's School for Gifted Unicorns.

Anyway, it took me a while, but I managed to slave through all five of those books. I even managed to get an off day - a real off day - just to read through those things, so it wasn't too bad. The last one was easier, since it was on dinner etiquette, so I could skim past about half of it. I was done by the evening. Then I took a rest and chatted with Ician for a bit. After the coup he pulled off on Tuesday, I can't help but feel indebted to him. At the very least I trust him a whole lot more than I do Mente, that's for sure.

I asked him what I should be expecting tomorrow. He explained that actually, there wasn't anything much to expect. The Court always looks for excuses to organise events like this, for a variety of reasons. There's the boot-licking, of course, and the opportunity for negotiations. This last point confused me, because I thought that the very reason regular summits were held was to facilitate such negotiations.

Ician disabused me at once. "Oh no, Princess, there's far too much press coverage for that. Ever since Princess Celestia allowed the press to play witness to such summits, it's turned into a huge publicity stunt for everypony involved. All the real negotiations are done behind the scenes during events such as tomorrow's celebrations, where whatever is said won't be released to the public, and the concerned parties can converse in privacy."

Speaking of which, that was another thing I noticed in the short time I've been here: the Palace really likes keeping secrets. Evidently this doesn't just apply to me, if what Ician just told me was true. And there was no reason for him to lie.

I confronted him with this, and he responded with a shrug. "As has been said before, Princess, if no one knows what you're doing then no one knows what you're doing wrong. It is not a principle solely restricted to the Head of State."

I understood that, of course, but all the same hiding so much from the public didn't sit well with me. I wanted, and still want, to be as honest with them as I could, even if sometimes discretion had to be exercised. After all, I was ruling the nation for them, not myself, so as long as I'm governing I ought to have their views on as many issues as possible.

Ician nodded in agreement, but reminded me that sometimes the public didn't know what was good for them. I almost objected, prepared to argue that that couldn't be the case, before I remembered how I used to have no friends at all before I came to Ponyville and kept my mouth shut.

"It's the basis of oligarchy, you see," he continued. "The highly-educated elite, equipped with the wisdom and foresight to govern effectively, are far better suited for the weighty decisions regarding governmental policy than the fickle-minded and easily swayed general public."

I questioned him about those in the public who weren't fickle-minded nor easily swayed. He answered that most of them inevitably ended up becoming Civil Servants. That struck me as odd, since I'd thought that they should go on to become Ministers instead of Civil Servants. You know, the ones who actually make the decisions.

Then again, if ponies like Blueblood were installed as Ministers, perhaps the actual job requirement wasn't what I thought it was.

In any case, I voiced my inquiry, but all Ician replied with was a gentle chuckle and a little shake of his head. I tried to press further, but he declined to talk further of the matter, explaining that it was not his place to comment on Palace hiring policy. He did, however, reveal that the pony in charge of picking Ministers for the Court was none other than the Princess, aka me. That's something for me to think about soon.

Still, I can worry about that after tomorrow's celebration. I'm trying to hold in too much information at once, and it's hurting my head a little. Sleep seems to be something I can't get enough of after becoming Princess.

---

28th December 2013

Tonight's celebrations were exhausting. But more than that, they were a start of something new. Something big. Whether it's good or bad is a different issue, and one I don't have an answer to yet. Maybe tomorrow might bring more insight.

Much of today's time was spent going through a final briefing, which I found rather unnecessary since I've already been through seven of them, and personally surveying the ballroom that was going to be used for the occasion. Even though I knew all this ceremony was pretty much pointless, it was still exciting to be at the centre of it. And I suppose, now that I think about it, that I'm happy I had all those briefings; it wouldn't be much good if I was the focus of attention and then somehow humiliated myself, would it? And Celestia knows I probably would've done that, given previous... incidents.

Anyway, the briefings and practices turned out to be for the best. The night began in the throne room, where Shining and his delegation came up to me and I officially welcomed them to Equestria. I could tell he was trying hard not to smile, though I'm quite sure he was a lot better at hiding it than I was. I'm just happy I didn't burst out laughing at the abject ridiculousness of it all. Welcoming somepony three days after they actually arrive? Only the Royal Court would do something so strange.

After that, we all went to the dining hall and started eating. The food was heavenly, I can say that much. It was almost enough to distract me from all the conversation going on around me, most of which was on topics that didn't really interest me. More politics, of course, because evidently nopony gets enough of that during work hours. Shining was sitting next to me, though, and we got a lot of alone time in the one place I thought we wouldn't. Turns out, if you're sitting in a room full of politicians, you're alone as can be. Excluding the constant camera flashes in your face, but you can't have everything I suppose.

Now, normally, I'd write a lot more about the conversation between myself and Shining - he's doing quite well for himself, I hear; the Crystal Empire's safe and secure as can be, no new threats rising from nothing, everypony's happy, and so on - but this time I have something a lot more important to address. Something that happened after the formal dinner, when everypony had moved out to the main ballroom for more mingling. I was planning to sneak away and meet with Shining privately, but, well, things never really go according to plan, do they? Thankfully, it turned out to be for the best this time.

It all started with that one fateful call. Not of 'Princess', or 'Your Highness', but a simple 'Twilight?' If that wasn't enough to catch my attention, the pony I saw was. I recognised him from my years at Canterlot before I moved to Ponyville. It was Fancy Pants. I'd heard a lot about him from Rarity, but even more from my dad; the cream of high society and one of the most important ponies in Canterlot, he still wasn't too high to prohibit becoming a family friend, though that relationship waned after both he and my dad dropped out of government. I never did see him anymore ever since I moved out of the city, so I decided this would be a good opportunity to reacquaint myself with him. Surprisingly, he wasn't surrounded by his usual entourage.

I gave him a smile. "What, no 'yes, Princess' for me?" I joked.

He chuckled, to my relief. Maybe I am getting better at this whole socialising thing. "I figured you wouldn't appreciate it, your majesty."

Now I chuckled too. "Well, you thought right. How did you know, though?"

He gave me a knowing smirk. "I've been a part of government too, Twilight. I know how the Court works. Or pretends to work, rather."

"Pretends?" I asked.

He said nothing in response, but I could have sworn that I saw his smirk widen. Instead, he switched the topic. "How have things been for you?"

"You mean, as Princess?" I asked. I was quite sure that was what he meant, but I wanted to be absolutely sure. The last thing I wanted to do in front of an old family friend was to make a fool of myself.

He nodded. "Yes. It can't be easy for you, to go from an idyllic, rustic life in Ponyville to the Princess of all the land."

I chuckled. "Oh, it's not too bad. I mean, it was a rough transition, of course, but Mente and Ician smoothened things a lot for me."

His smile faded. "Your Councillors?"

"Exactly. Mente is the High Councillor, and Ician the Assistant Councillor."

"I know," he said grimly. "And they've been helping you, you say?"

"Yes! Mente can be troublesome at times, but I couldn't have done what I have without him to help and advise me."

"I see." He paused. "What have you done?"

"Rule Equestria for a week without accidentally destroying everything, of course." I laughed a bit at my own joke, but for some reason Fancy Pants didn't.

"May I be frank with you?" He requested.

This took me aback. "Um, sure."

"If you listen to them you will never accomplish anything," he said.

"Oh, I already know that." I answered. "I get the impression that the Civil Service is very big on the status quo. They really do believe it's the right thing for Equestria."

Fancy Pants' face suddenly changed. His eyebrows arched upwards in extreme surprise. "I'm impressed that you even know that much, Twilight. But it's a ruse on their part, I'm afraid. Most of what they do is for their own benefit, not that of the country's."

"What?" At the time I wasn't exactly sure what to believe. "How do you know this?"

"I've been in government myself." He reminded me. "First as the Minister of Administrative Affairs, and then later the Minister of Finance. I've seen plenty and associated regularly with most members of the Civil Service and the Royal Court. Most Ministers are just puppets of the Civil Service, and the Service in turn looks after its own interests."

"... Really?" I asked, with not a little doubt. Up till now I hadn't seen any evidence of that.

"Really." He asserted. "There's a lot of information that would make you realise the truth, if you knew the right questions to ask. If you want to obtain any information at all you have to be extremely precise in your inquiries, or else hunt it down yourself. And believe me, any such endeavour will most likely be fruitless. The Palace is one of the most secretive places in all of Equestria."

"But," I pointed out, "if I can't get any of this information, then what's the point?"

"You can." He brought a hoof to his chin. "Are you aware of the values of the annual salaries for Permanent Secretaries and the High Councillor?"

"Um, no." I admitted. "I never asked."

"Please do. In fact, I doubt you will get any exact answers, so you should ask to peruse the official records. There ought to be some at the Ministry of Employment or Administrative Affairs. Civil Service and Royal Court pay issues leave an extensive - albeit very confidential - paper trail. Even more than confidential, really. Hardly anypony would have seen it."

"Isn't that what 'confidential' means?" I asked.

"Not in the Palace." He replied enigmatically. "In any case, Twilight, I expect that this would be quite an eye-opener for you."

"I don't know if you're right yet," I said.

"You will soon." He said. "But not now. For now, I think I've pestered you enough to last the night, wouldn't you agree?"

"Don't say that." I smiled. "It's been a pleasure talking with you, Mr Pants."

"Likewise. Have a pleasant evening... Princess." He walked away, leaving me alone with my thoughts and my doubts. I think I may know what point he's making already, and I hope he's wrong. Or else Mente is going to have a stern talk coming his way.

---

29th December 2013

Clearly something is going on. I just don't know what yet. But I have a feeling that Fancy Pants is going to be right.

It all started this morning, but not with Mente. Today was a Sunday, and for some reason Mente had a meeting again. Though not of course over Ahuizotl, like last time; it just happens, according to Ician, that Mente holds a lot of his meetings on Sundays. Apparently it's more quiet overall, with a lot more empty meeting rooms, because of the reduced staff count on Sunday. Makes sense, I guess.

Anyway, since Ician was here and Mente wasn't - also because I trust Ician more - I decided to ask him about Civil Service and Royal Court pay. Specifically, exactly how much were they paid?

"Well, it varies really," was his answer. "Upper echelons of the officials are paid substantially more than the lower echelons, owing to their heavier responsibility and greater duties to the state."

I thanked him for his explanation. Then I realised he hadn't actually given me an answer.

"It's a bit difficult to remember offhoof, especially given that I don't have the statistics," he explained. "If you'd like I'll ask High Councillor Mente if he can acquire the exact numbers for you, Princess."

It was a nice gesture, but I didn't really need the exact numbers. Not unless everypony refused to tell me anything at all. "I just need a rough gauge," I told him. "Do you know approximately what Mente's yearly salary is, for example?"

"His yearly salary?" Ician adopted a thoughtful look. "I've never really asked him. Nor have I dealt in Civil Service pay allocations. I'm sorry, Princess."

"What about your salary, then?" I questioned. "Don't tell me you can't remember that."

"Um, well, you see..." Ician's eyes were darting around the room now. I could see cold sweat forming on his brow. "... It's a bit difficult to pinpoint an amount exactly, since there are various, different factors contributing to salary."

"Such as?"

"Ah, actually, well, I mean, taking all relevant considerations into account and also acknowledging the various, um, subjective views inherent in the issue, we would have to... Oh, look at the time. I suspect Mente ought to have finished his meeting. I'll just fetch him for you now, Princess."

I tried to stop him. "Wait, no, hold on. I just want to speak to you first."

"Be that as it may, I feel that Mente is more qualified to provide an engaging and mature discussion in this instance. I ask that I be allowed to bring his insight to the table."

"But—"

"Please." He pleaded.

I gazed at him for a moment. Despite his apparently calm expression, he was literally shivering, and lines of sweat were trailing down his face. I felt bad for him. And I made a decision that I'm now beginning to regret.

"Okay, alright." I reluctantly said. "Just... bring him back quickly, alright? And I still want to talk to you later, if we have time."

"Yes, Princess. Thank you, Princess. Your will be done." And in a flash, he was gone, the double doors of the throne room lazily swinging back and forth, giving me the occasional view of surprised Royal Guards outside.

---

High Councillor Ician recalls:

Ah, that day. I was very high-strung during the conversation, because if there was ever an issue that the Civil Service did not want discussed in front of or by the Princesses, it was Palace salaries. For those in the know, it was hardly surprising that it was considered to be in bad taste to talk openly about pay; the inevitable reaction from those who were not receiving the bits in question was to demand pay cuts. If my memory serves me well, average yearly salaries at the time for Permanent Secretaries ran over a hundred thousand bits, at least. And that estimate does not take into account index-linked pensions, which was a privilege that all senior Civil Servants enjoyed, and yearly bonuses, which everyone enjoyed.

Therefore, the topic of salaries was almost never raised. When there was a need to, it would always be handled delicately and discreetly. Submission papers dealing with pay rises would always portray Civil Servants and Ministers - the latter being responsible for deciding pay, and the former the advisors of the latter - as being woefully underpaid, drawing percentage differences between themselves and 'comparable jobs in industry', without or with little reference to any specific amounts on either side. The whole issue would then usually be resolved quickly and without publicity, and the documents subsequently swept where it would never again see the light of day - namely, into the Official Documents Archive, or as it's more commonly known in the Service, the Graveyard. It is, after all, where all sorts of embarrassing records wither and die in solitude, never to be read.

Admittedly, I was also a recipient of such high pay, though I'd always felt guilty about it and donated much of it to charity. What I could not do, however, was to voluntarily ask for a personal pay cut, as that would create a dangerous precedent and potentially lead to pay cuts across the board. That would be reason enough to warrant a rejection of my request. A quiet rejection, of course. And the last thing anypony in the Service needed was attention of that sort, even if quiet. It was the sort that could keep you away from the higher positions for good, or even have you sent away to downtown Canterlot. There was no future for any Civil Servant in downtown Canterlot.

It was because of these circumstances that I panicked, and heavily, when Princess Sparkle raised the issue. If I did not handle it properly, which I did not believe I could, it would have been catastrophic for me personally and the Palace as a whole. I needed badly to seek Mente's intervention, not in order to provide a more engaging discussion, but to better save my hide.

---

[Ed: A recount of Mente's meeting, as well as the conversation between Mente and Ician in the immediate aftermath of the events as detailed in Princess Sparkle's journal could be found in Mente's private notes. We reproduce the following entry for reference.]

Had a meeting with Apple Bee today. It was not very pleasing; apparently he had, once again, failed to do his job properly. To be fair, it was not entirely his fault, given the rush of the entire welcoming event, but my request [Ed: i.e. instruction] that certain individuals be denied entry was not properly implemented. He attributed this oversight to the wishes of his Minister, who, for the sake of administrative ease, had explicitly stated that such considerations were not to be taken into account.

I refused, and still refuse, to recognise this as a legitimate argument. Everypony knows that the concept of a serious Ministerial instruction is, on the face of it, a patently ridiculous notion. It seems to imply that a Minister is actually in charge of his own department. I remarked sternly that, should such an oversight occur again, it could lead one to question his competence.

This seemed to momentarily shake him, but he recovered his composure soon after. He reiterated that his Minister was responsible, and even went so far as to stand by the instruction, accusing me of paranoia. He admitted that, while guidance was usually required in terms of administrative decisions, his Minister had made a sensible choice this time around.

Another ridiculous notion. It is impossible for one to have his cake and eat it too. You can either be a Minister, or you can be sensible. I am certain that Apple Bee has already grasped this concept, and only wishes to irritate me. Perhaps in retaliation for the apple supplier selection issue, which he knows I played a major role in. Nonetheless, this is no excuse for shirking one's duties. I told him that I did not wish to see a repeat of this incident. He gave me no assurances, however, only remarking that he would do his best.

It was at that point when Ician burst into the room, panicking. It took him a few seconds to calm down. I believed it to be an overreaction on his part, until he explained that the Princess was asking about Civil Service and Royal Court pay. A disaster of the utmost proportions. Especially since it was Princess Sparkle who was doing the asking.

I demanded to know why he had not acted as soon as it became clear that this topic was to be breached. After all, such a line of questioning does not just appear out of the blue. But, upon further questioning, it transpired that that was exactly what had happened. I do not, however, believe that this has all appeared out of the blue so much as out from behind the scenes. The possibility of simple coincidence exists, but I suspect outside interference.

This must be dealt with as soon as possible, lest the Princess insists on pay cuts. That could potentially destabilise the entire Palace. Corruption will run rampant. Strikes will begin. Government activity will reach a standstill - even more of a standstill than it normally is, difficult as that is to believe. This cannot be allowed.

[Ed: The journal continues.]

---

Shortly afterwards, Ician returned with Mente, as he said he would. Unlike Ician, though, who seemed very flustered and pale, Mente was a picture of serenity. This surprised me at the time, but I should have known better. Mente didn't lose his composure unless he was really backed against the wall. Which he clearly wasn't yet.

"Princess," he greeted with a low bow. "Did you have some questions for me?"

"I do." I answered. Deciding not to beat around the bush, I asked him the very simple and direct question: "What is your yearly salary?"

As expected, I didn't get a straight answer. In fact, to call it an answer at all may be too generous; it did nothing but muddy the issue even more. Thankfully, Ician does shorthoof, and I specifically asked him a while back to record these kinds of speedy ramblings for my reference. Who knows, maybe one day I'd be able to resolve them on the spot!

This is what he said: "Princess, looking at it by and large, to immediately assign an objective, non-arbitrary value of any kind of meaning to a disputed and variable subject such as salary would be, on the whole, inaccurate at best and thoroughly misleading in the most severe instance that such a providence of value would precipitate, which is undoubtedly a very undesirable consequence and one that should be avoided at all costs."

I blinked. After a few moments of silence, I asked him to repeat that in plain Equish.

He thought it over. "I can't say."

That made me cross. "Plain Equish too lowly for you?"

"Not at all," he explained. "I meant that as the translation."

I was confused for a little bit. He then patiently explained that he couldn't pinpoint an exact value for his pay. Which is basically what Ician said. I asked him why.

"Well, there are many contributing factors when it comes to considering salary," he said, which was again basically what Ician said earlier. That aroused my suspicions immediately.

"Okay, what are they?" I questioned.

"Pensions, for example." Mente offered promptly. "There's always been an ongoing debate as to whether or not to consider pensions as a component of salary, at least insofar as administration is concerned, since it would simplify the administrative process on the whole."

"Are they currently considered a part of salary?"

"Well... not at the moment."

"Then ignore it." I said. "What else?"

"Um, well. Merit bonuses to reward outstanding performances are also given out fairly regularly, given the high quality and talent of our staff."

"Are those currently considered a part of salary?"

"Ah... not quite."

"Is that a no?"

"Yes and no," he replied helpfully.

I asked him what that was supposed to mean.

"It depends on who you ask," he said.

"I'm asking you." I said, in an weary tone. "What's the answer then?"

"Do you really want my answer?"

"I do. What is it?"

"Yes and no." He remarked obligingly.

I facehooved. Behind Mente, Ician's mouth twitched a little, until I shot him a death glare and he quickly stopped.

"With all due respect, Princess," continued Mente with a deliberate slowness, " it would be best if you dropped this line of inquiry. I am hesitant to reveal this information to you precisely because I fear you will not have the benefit of the full picture - a very extensive full picture that would take much time to comprehend, might I add - when the statistics are made available to you, and you may come to certain conclusions that you would not otherwise reach were you fully seized and fully aware of the implications inherent in the bigger picture."

After a delay it took for me to process that, I pressed on. "But now that you've told me, I'll be sure not to come to any premature conclusions. So can I please, please please please please, please know what your salary is now?"

"I must firmly advise against your asking," was the answer.

I threw my hooves up into the air in exasperation. "Fine, fine. In that case, I want to see the official documents. If you aren't going to tell me anything, maybe the reports will." And also, I realised, the reports would be a lot more objective - and probably informative - than Mente would be. "Where are they?"

"I really do think they are beneath your notice, Princess."

I repeated myself, this time more firmly. "Where. Are. They?"

"Please, your highness."

"This is a direct order," I reminded him. "Are you going to disobey a direct order?"

"Not if it is truly a properly thought-over one." He replied carefully.

"Tell me!" I almost shouted. I was close to boiling over.

He stared at me silently. After a few moments, he mumbled something about a graveyard, though it was quiet and I may have misheard.

"Come again?" I asked.

"The Official Documents Archive," he said, this time more clearly. "In Downtown Canterlot."

"Great." I took a deep breath, calming down. "When am I free?"

Mente turned to Ician. Ician looked down at his hooves. "Um... Not for a while, actually, Princess, in your current schedule."

My temper rose slightly. "Make room." I ordered. "Tomorrow."

"Yes Princess," he said quickly.

With any luck, I'll get the answers I need tomorrow. The statistics can't lie, surely.

---

High Councillor Tact Ician recalls:

And so the stage was set. After the working day was over, I fully expected Mente to give me a good chewing-out, but instead all he gave me was a list of instructions to send to the staff at the Graveyard. I wrote down the directions and preserved them in a memo to the Archive Management.

[Ed: Enclosed is the memo in question, sent from then-Assistant Councillor Ician to the Management of the Official Documents Archive. It has fortunately survived to be reproduced.]

Memorandom

29th December

From: Assistant Councillor Ician

To: Official Documents Archive Management

Dear Management,

On instructions from High Councillor Mente, I am to convey the following instructions pending the Princess' official visit tomorrow:

1. That the floor be swept and the dust cleaned off the shelves, lest Princess Sparkle realises that the Archive is not a permanent winter biome.

2. That all the waste bins be emptied, all the tissue paper be picked off the ground, and all the tear-stained furniture removed.

3. That the staff of the Archive ensure that they look presentable during the Princess' visit. Cutting down on alcohol intake and frequency of grief-induced breakdowns is recommended.

All in all, the High Councillor would like to remind the Archive staff that there are worse places to be than Downtown Canterlot. And that if they do not wish to find themselves there they had better be on their best behaviour tomorrow. Any heartfelt pleas for 'another chance', as with last time, will not be tolerated. Thank you.

- Ician

---

30th December 2013

High Councillor Ician recalls:

Early in the morning of the 30th Mente met with me to discuss final preparations for the Princess' visit to the Graveyard. Primarily, I was concerned that there was no way to avoid disaster; once Princess Sparkle acquired the statistics there would be no stopping her. I asked Mente if we could simply misplace the file, as was precedent for documents which the Palace really did not want found.

Mente reprimanded me immediately. He reminded me that files were never deliberately misplaced, as that would be unconscionable and also a hindrance to administration. He did, however, acknowledge that occasional accidents were unavoidable, and if they so happened to involve sensitive documents then it would be an unfortunate coincidence. Such was the facade of government.

What I then wanted to know was if the salary file could be a victim of such planned coincidence. Mente answered that it was a possibility, but nonetheless the file would have to be found as he doubted that the Princess would relent in the face of such difficulty. That might lead her to attempt to scour the entire Archive, possibly unearthing other sensitive documents in the process.

At the time, I couldn't understand why he was so calm about the salary. He did seem worried, yes, but certainly not over that. He answered all my questions with firm certainty, and there was no hint that that was what was bothering him. So I pressed on, and asked him what was on his mind.

I must have been quite transparent. He explained that he was not worried about the salary issue because there were numerous other ways to impart money without it showing up in the salary statistics; the very existence of Bonuses, such as Merit Awards and Allowances, provided a means for bits to flow without being subject to scrutiny. Of course, it was originally believed that the salary itself was not subject to such scrutiny, but Bonuses provided a fallback in case salary was compromised - clearly a wise choice.

What Mente was more worried about was instead where the Princess' inquiry had originated from. He believed, quite correctly as it turned out, that Princess Sparkle had not come up with this line of attack of her own accord, and that somepony was advising her from behind the scenes. I wondered, aloud, who it could be. He said that he had his suspicions, but wouldn't voice them until they were confirmed.

For now, he assured me, allowing the Princess to view the files would suffice. In the long run, it would do no damage to the Palace. Indeed, the Princess' secret advisor would pose a greater danger, should he or she continue to cause trouble. I personally had my doubts about the existence of this advisor, and I cautiously questioned Mente if he was - perhaps - seeing enemies where there were none.

He offered to give me one of his reading glasses. I asked why. He told me that clearly I needed it more than he did.

---

We went to visit the Official Documents Archive today. And what an enlightening experience it was, if for no reason other than finally getting to set my eyes on the statistics. That, and the fact that this was the first time since becoming Princess that I actually spent some time in any other part of Canterlot other than the roads between the gates and the Palace and the Palace itself.

I never set hoof on the ground. I woke up this morning to the sound of shouting outside my room. For a moment I thought the shouting was directed at me, but when i opened the door I found a full squadron of Royal Guard pegasi armed to the teeth and a commanding officer - all of whom snapped off a smart salute the moment I peeked out - as well as Ician and Mente, dressed in freshly-pressed suits and waiting patiently.

I began to feel very conscious of my lack of regalia. Or any clothing, for that matter.

Once I got changed (in a hurry), I was led not to the entrance of the Palace, as I expected, but instead to the upper portions of one of those spiral minarets I'd never been up. As a filly, it had always been too much of an effort to climb the stairs all the way to the top, and as a mare I was about ready to give up after the first few floors. Of course, this time I didn't have a choice in the matter, and with the liberal application of several teleports I finally made it to the top.

The first thing I noticed was the lack of safety railings on what appeared to be a sort of balcony. I then realised that there were safety railings, just not on the portion I could see from inside the minaret. And then it occurred to me that the balcony was huge. Really, really huge.

Then a giant pegasus carriage descended suddenly from the sky and landed on the balcony, and I realised that the balcony was actually a landing pad. For pegasus carriages.

I turned and asked Mente why I had to go to the Archive this way.

"To avoid the crowd," he said simply.

I turned to Ician with the unspoken request for an explanation. He obliged. "If a Princess wants to go anywhere, she never goes out the front gate," he said. "The key is to leave the Palace without ceremony and by a way that cannot become congested with adoring crowds."

"But I've seen the Princess go out the front gate before," I pointed out.

"That's when the Princess didn't want to go anywhere." Ician said with a smile.

Fair enough, I supposed. I climbed into the carriage, followed by Ician and Mente on either side, and the doors slid shut. For a good long while I sat there in increasingly awkward silence, waiting for us to start moving. When I finally decided that the awkwardness was unbearable I cleared my throat. "When are we taking off?"

Ician looked at me quizzically. "Princess, what are you talking about?"

"Well..." I struggled to elucidate, "... why haven't we taken off y-"

"We're here." Mente said in a deadpan voice, and pulled the door on his side open. Directly outside were looming double-doors and a large Official Documents Archive sign hanging over them.

"... never mind." I said lamely.

"We don't have much time here, Princess, as allocated in your schedule," Mente continued. "About ten minutes left, in fact. If you'll excuse me, I shall just fetch the relevant files for you."

"I can do it myself," I insisted.

"Not within the allotted timeframe, I think." He replied. "With all due respect, I doubt you share the familiarity with the Archive that the Civil Service possesses."

"Alright then." I nodded. "In that case," I said, pointing to Ician, "he can get the files for me, right?"

"Um..." Ician hesitated.

Mente waved his hoof dismissively. "Go ahead, Ician. You should be familiar enough with the floor plan, yes?"

He slowly nodded. "Uh... yes. Yes, I am."

"You have five minutes." Mente instructed sternly. Ician quickly nodded and darted off through his door.

I sat back, preparing to wait, when Mente commented, "I'm sorry you had to sit through that, Princess."

I blinked. "Sit through what?"

"The turbulent ride." He said. "The carriage journey is usually much smoother. I must apologise on the drivers' behalf."

I stared at him dumbly. He must have misinterpreted my dumbfounded silence as grim certainty because he nodded and continued, "I understand, Princess. They will be replaced by tomorrow."

"No no no no no," I hurriedly interjected, "the ride was fine, don't worry about it. Just, um, tell the drivers... not to let it happen again?"

"As you wish." He answered. I couldn't help but think of The Princess and the Pea.

"You wouldn't happen to own twenty mattresses, would you?" I joked.

"Excuse me?"

"Never mind."

Ician returned soon after, carrying with him a very thin file. He wordlessly gave it to me and clambered back into the carriage.

I looked at the file, then back at him. "Is this all?"

"Yes, Princess."

"This is everything we have on salary?"

"This year's, yes."

I stared suspiciously at him. "Ician," I asked slowly, "are you lying to me?"

"I would never lie to you, Princess," he said with a sudden firmness. "That would be unconscionable."

I was still a little dubious, but there was something about the sincere way he said it that put me at ease. "Well... okay then. But why is there so little of it?"

"To match the average Minister's mind," Mente remarked. I looked at him, and he hastily added, "That is to say, focused, to the point, and free of clutter."

I flipped it open and scanned through it. The figures didn't mean very much to me, not then, mostly because I'd never had a proper job with an actual proper salary. But it all seemed pretty reasonable, based on the comparisons. Apparently the yearly salaries of the senior Civil Servants and Ministers were a good fifteen percent behind the average incomes of comparable heads of business and industry. I don't know why Mente was so hesitant to tell me. I guess I really read the situation wrongly this time. Or Fancy did, rather. I need to have a talk with him.

---

31st December 2013

Today was a very busy day. I worked myself to the bone trying to get all of it done as soon as possible - I even skipped lunch, but that really isn't anything new - but by evening I had a satisfyingly tall stack of papers read, signed and stamped. It was easy enough to ignore the even taller stack that I knew I'd have to go through tomorrow.

When work was over I somehow excused myself for dinner. Mente had thankfully left earlier, since I'd gone a little overtime, so I only had to deal with Ician. He was reluctant to let me go, given that I'd always had my meals in the Palace, but I assured him that I'd been outside before, I knew how to get around. When he brought up the issue of security I told him I'd be alright.

"Will you really, Princess?" he'd asked doubtfully.

"I will." I replied.

"I could send a security detachment with you," he insisted. "Your safety is of the utmost importance."

I contemplated saying yes, but remembered that I didn't want anyone - especially Mente - to know about Fancy. "Uhh... I'll be okay, really. No need to worry about me."

"Princess..." He pleaded.

I decided to get firm with him. "Would you disobey a direct order, Ician?"

He stiffened. "I would never do such a thing."

"That's good." I smiled. "Thanks." I took my leave quickly, before he could have a chance to protest more. I stopped at my room for a little while to switch my regalia for the darkest, plainest cloak I could find and bring the Archive salary file with me. Then I slipped out.

---

High Councillor Ician recalls:

Princess Sparkle was rather insistent, as I recall. I was somewhat curious as to the source of her insistence, but I was far more worried about what course of action to take. On the one hoof, as Assistant Councillor and a member of the Princess' inner council, it was my duty to protect her at all costs, even if it meant giving my life. On the other hoof, an order was an order, and it was also my duty to carry out the commands of the Princess, regardless of what they might be.

Troubled, I sought out Mente's advice. I found him in his office, working on a few Royal memos to the various Permanent Secretaries. He welcomed me in, and before I even had a chance to open my mouth he already asked me what the problem was.

I gave him a brief rundown of my quandary. His neutral expression slowly morphed into one of concern.

"Are you sure?" he asked as soon as I'd finished.

I asserted that I was completely sure of every detail.

"The Princess went outside the Palace? For dinner? On her own?"

I nodded.

"And she specifically rejected an escort?"

"Yes," I confirmed.

For a few moments, he went dead silent. Then, the corners of his mouth curved upwards ever so slightly. "I see."

Reminding him of my dilemma, I asked him what I should do.

"Well, clearly an escort is out of the question. The Princess' word is law. But equally, she must be protected."

Nodding in agreement, I waited for him to continue.

"I will take care of this, Ician. Coming to me was the right thing to do."

I questioned him about his intentions.

"I intend to have a talk with our Intelligence agency," he explained. "If possible, I wish to dispatch a few agents to covertly follow the Princess and watch for threats."

A sound plan. It was the perfect way to both ensure Princess' Sparkle's safety while not going against her orders. I promised Mente my full cooperation, should he require it. He assured me that all would be taken care of.

---

[Ed: The following extract is reproduced from Mente's own private journal. It sheds some light upon the events that occurred on the night of the 31st.]

Ician came to see me today, to alert me about the Princess' unaccompanied departure from the Palace. There were no doubts in my mind that she was heading out to meet with her secret advisor. I intended to put a stop to all of it at once.

First, I paid a visit to Plant. [Ed: Lady Weed Plant, head of the Equestrian Intelligence Bureau.] While not strictly one of us, she has served in the Bureau for several years and proven herself to be an invaluable and loyal asset to the Service. Most importantly, she is not subject to the silly pseudo-democratic processes that Ministers are, and has risen to her position purely of her own merit rather than currying favour in the presence of high society and the Princesses.

I quickly explained the situation to her and asked if she could send agents to track the Princess' movements and who she met with. She agreed to do so immediately. I then informed her that the reports were to be delivered directly to me, rather than the Minister of Home Affairs.

Instantly on guard, she questioned if the situation was truly that serious. I assured her that there was no such severity - it was simply that it was not worth troubling the Minister with such trivial matters, given that he already had so much on his plate. She understood perfectly.

Next on the agenda was a visit to Shield. As with Plant, I outlined the situation, and requested a detachment of soldiers. Naturally, he was shocked by such a request. He demanded that I explain the need. I was forced to reveal my suspicions that the Princess was not only heading out for dinner - she was meeting with someone. He wanted to know who. I told him that there were only so many possibilities, and none of them were good.

Shaken, he asked if there was a significant likelihood that the Princess was in danger. I confirmed that there was. He agreed to put as many troops as I required at my disposal.

Finally, I hunted down Apple Bee and found him in the local administrative archives. I ordered him to follow me. I will make him see, first-hoof, what he has unleashed by his negligence.

[Ed: The journal continues.]

---

I had no idea where Fancy usually ate, of course. My best bet was to catch him at his house, and judging by the time at that point I decided it was a safe assumption that he'd either be on the way back from dinner or already at home.

Holding my breath and hoping that the address he'd had years ago was still up to date, I walked up to the door and knocked. I was greeted with a gratifyingly familiar "Who's there?" and an eye at the peephole. With an almost unnatural quietness, the door swung open and Fleur ushered me in. She turned to the stairwell behind her, where Fancy had appeared.

"I'll get you both some tea," she said gently, heading off to what I presume was the kitchen. She flashed Fancy a meaningful look on her way out.

Fancy returned the look, and then he turned to me with some concern. "Twilight? Why are you here so late? Is something wrong?"

"Yes. Something's wrong." I pulled out the Archive salary file and showed it to him. "And it looks like that something is you. Didn't you say that the statistics would be shocking?"

He looked at the file, and then he looked at me. "Isn't this shocking?"

I suddenly began to doubt myself. "Is it?"

He was probably expecting a long discussion, because he motioned me to one of the couches in his living room. I sat down, and he followed suit. Fleur returned with the tea she said she'd bring. I gratefully took a cup.

Fancy took the other cup, but didn't seem to want to drink it. Instead, he put it down and gestured to the file. "Twilight, these figures are exorbitant compared to levels of salary outside the Service."

"But... the comparisons?" I pointed to the part about fifteen percent salary discrepancies.

"Were made with completely inappropriate 'heads of business and industry' in mind." He jabbed a hoof at the paragraph. "It doesn't specify the identity of those heads here, and that's with good reason. I'm willing to bet that there is a separate document detailing exactly who they are, and they will be ponies like Filthy Rich - all the way at the top of the 'Highest-Earning Personalities' chart."

I stared at him, comprehension dawning on me. "So you're saying that the Ministers and senior Civil Servants..."

"Are receiving salaries just fifteen percent below that of the richest ponies in Equestria, yes." He gently took the file from me and showed the sentence to me again. "You'll notice that it also says 'on average', likely meaning that those at the top are receiving even more. Maybe ten percent behind, or better."

"So," I summed it up, "we're basically paying all of the top Palace staff—"

"Of which there are dozens," he interjected.

"—of which there are dozens, a salary more or less equivalent to that of what Filthy Rich is earning."

He gave a silent nod.

For a while, I was speechless. And then I said, "We have to do something about it."

"Perhaps... or perhaps not," he said with some caution.

"What? Why not?" I asked.

"They are not fools," he said. "Salary is only one of the ways they acquire money from the Treasury. Take their salary away from them, and they will get more money by other means."

That wasn't good to hear. "Can we stop them?"

"Theoretically. But it would take an immense amount of effort, and I can assure you there are many well-hidden pieces of legislation that will continue to allow them to facilitate their plans."

"Oh." I deflated. "Then... what's the point of all this?"

"The point, my dear Twilight, is for you to learn. Perhaps it may be far too difficult to do anything about it this time, but now you know that they cannot be trusted. Now you will know to look out for trouble. This is your lesson. Your tutorial."

I opened my mouth to respond, but there suddenly came a sharp knock from the door.

---

[Ed: Past this point, Princess Sparkle's journal becomes rather confused. Having spoken with her personally, she explains that she was in a rather agitated mood at the time, which may have clouded her memory and hence the relevant portion of the journal. We produce the following recount directly from Mr Fancy Pants' own detailed diary, supported by Mente's private notes.]

Twilight paid me a visit a few hours ago. As I anticipated, she had already acquired the salary statistics from the Official Documents Archive - the first time in centuries any file has been removed from there - but the numbers didn't mean enough to her to make her realise the sheer ludicrousness of it. I can only be thankful that she came to me before making any more assumptions, allowing me the opportunity to explain the numbers.

Unfortunately, it also blew my cover. In hindsight, I should have expected it.

As soon as I'd finished my explanation to Twilight, I heard a knock at the door. "Excuse me?" came a voice I recognised only too well. "Mr Pants?"

My mood deteriorated quickly. "Is that you, Apple Bee?"

"Indeed." He paused. "I'm surprised you still recognise my voice."

"My years with you were... memorable." I shook my head and put the Archive file down on the table, walking over to the door and pulling it open. "What do you want?"

"Yes, well." Apple Bee stepped inside, flanked by two Royal Guards. That was my biggest mistake - not checking the peephole, distracted as I was with irritation directed at Bee. "My apologies, but I am required to place you under arrest."

Fleur gasped, but thankfully said nothing, accustomed as she was to letting me handle situations. Over at my sofa, however, Twilight stood up from her seat in shock. "What?!"

Apple Bee turned to her, surprised. "Princess? What are you doing here?"

"Part of Mr Pants' machinations, no doubt," said another voice, less familiar but still familiar enough to send a chill down my spine. From around the corner, High Councillor Mente strode into view. My heart sank. I was in very big trouble, especially if Twilight wasn't able to assert the power she nominally had.

Even though I knew Twilight couldn't see the High Councillor from where she was, her eyes still narrowed. "Mente!" she snapped. "What's going on?" A good sign; it proved that she had some measure of dominance over him.

Mente stepped into her field of vision. "Your majesty." Unlike Apple Bee, he seemed completely calm and not at all surprised by Twilight's presence. Evidently he hasn't been sharing information with the Permanent Secretaries... or maybe my old Permanent Secretary was an exception. I know Apple Bee's relations with his peers were strained in my time as his Minister.

"What's going on?" Twilight repeated. "Why is he being arrested?"

"Various reasons, Princess." Mente looked at the two Guards, who edged even closer to me, their spears glinting menacingly in the dim light of my house. "The Equestrian Intelligence Bureau has been keeping tabs on Mr Pants for a while now, and in light of your departure from the Palace, alone, it was decided that you required protection from him." He paused briefly, for effect. "Clearly we were right to do so."

I knew that I had to give Twilight time to think, and more importantly to vindicate myself if she was buying into Mente's deceptions. "I believe, High Councillor," I said, with all the calm I could muster, "that it is my right as a citizen of Equestria to be informed of the charges levelled against me."

He turned to me, his face seemingly neutral. But I'd been in politics for a long time; I could read the nuances in his expression. I saw anger, frustration, and distaste written, plain as day, across his face. He was under a great deal of pressure - maybe he had already been for a good while. I almost felt sorry for him.

None of the nuances, however, showed up in his speech. "Of course, Mr Pants," he said smoothly. He reached into the coat he was wearing and pulled out a file. "Investigation of your daily activities has put you under suspicion of espionage in the service of a foreign power. You are being charged under the Official Secrets Act for unauthorised possession of confidential documents, as well as miscellaneous charges of entry of private property without permission, larceny via proxy, bribery and intimidation of government officials, tax evasion, obstruction of justice, and jaywalking."

Quite a list. I hadn't the means to counter them, because I'd need to question the evidence, none of which was available to me. Fortunately, I didn't need to question the evidence to produce the needed doubt in Twilight's mind. She was already sufficiently sceptical of the accusations. "Mente, Fancy would never do that."

"I believed the same, until the I was confronted with the facts." Mente said. "I wouldn't have dreamed that such an upstanding, generous member of society was capable of such things. But I'm afraid that evidence doesn't lie, Princess." He eyed me. "And the law does not discriminate."

The situation was deteriorating quickly. "It's all fine and good for you to throw accusations around, High Councillor, but without proper backing—"

"There is proper backing." Mente interrupted. "And if there is not, the justice system will vindicate you."

A clever move. Of all the sections of the government, the Judiciary was the only one that stood outside the sphere of Royal influence. Twilight hadn't the authority to interfere. She had been outplayed, though she hadn't yet realised it. "Mente, this is ridiculous," she said firmly, though a hint of hesitation lingered behind the firmness. "Release him right now."

"As much as I would like to," he lied, "the law is the law, Princess. No one is exempt."

"Even by Royal edict?"

"Indeed."

I could see the whole plan unfolding already. I had done no wrong, of course, and Mente knew that. Despite what I knew he was capable of, he would not stoop to falsifying evidence - if only because it was too dangerous for himself. But the accusation would enable him to keep me incarcerated for as long as he could postpone the trial, while he was free to manipulate Twilight further. And when I was finally set free, he would keep me too far away from Twilight - or Twilight too far away from me - for me to give my advice. My one and only hope now was Twilight herself, and I didn't think she would be able to salvage the situation.

I shouldn't have underestimated her. All she needed was a little guidance.

"Um..." Twilight looked at me, an expression of equal parts chagrin and anxiety plain on her face. I knew that look; I'd seen it many times before, in her youth. It was the one she made every time she found a problem she couldn't solve. Nothing frustrated her more than that. "Where are we keeping him then? In jail?"

"That is the plan, yes, Princess."

Twilight winced. "That's too much. Even if I can't do anything about the law, where he stays until his trial isn't related to that. Can't we place him under house arrest instead?"

Mente sighed. "If you insist, Princess, we will oblige."

I was momentarily surprised. I didn't think the High Councillor would relent so easily. But then again, I should have expected it. He felt he'd already won, and by all rights he had. Why bother investing any more effort into a certain victory? Still, house arrest was far better than the prison, and I intended to make the most of it.

"I am sure that you're aware, High Councillor, but I do own many pieces of property in Canterlot. I would like to be held in a specific one."

Mente frowned, but raised no objection yet. "Which did you have in mind?"

I was about to give him the address and details of Eminence Hall, my closest place of residence to the Palace, when suddenly a most beautiful idea occurred to me. There was yet a way for me to turn the tables.

"Actually," I said, turning to Twilight, "I think the Princess would know the place better than I."

Mente's voice instantly took on a tone of suspicion. "What do you mean by that?"

Twilight seemed similarly confused. "Wait... what?"

I motioned to her, trying to hint at what I meant. "Yes, Princess. You know, where you would like me to stay. For the indefinite period of time before my trial, which might take a while."

For a few more moments, she stared uncomprehendingly at me. Everypony's eyes were on her - Mente's, Apple Bee's, mine; even the gazes of the guards were shifting between me and Twilight.

Then it suddenly hit her, and the frustration on her face disappeared almost instantly, replaced by a wide smile. She was on the ball again. "Why, yes, indeed. I'm much more familiar with the inside of the Palace, aren't I?"

Mente didn't say a word; he just stared at Twilight in shocked silence. Apple Bee, on the other hoof, displayed no such discretion, and exploded in anger. "Princess, this is unthinkable!" he thundered.

"Surely not," I intervened. "After all, the Palace belongs to the Princess. Is it not her right to do with her property as she wishes?"

Mente broke his silence with a quick interjection. "The Palace belongs to the Princess only nominally, however. It is also the centre of government and a hub of Court activity. She has a responsibility to ensure the safety and peace of mind of all government officials, and I fail to see how housing a potential criminal within the building helps to fulfill this responsibility."

Twilight turned to him. "Aren't the prisons in the Palace too?"

"Under it, really," Mente said, as if it made all the difference.

"So why can prisoners be housed in the basement but not one floor higher?" I questioned.

"Well, obviously, the prisons are more secure."

I smiled. Another mistake on his part. I might not have been inside of the Palace for years, but I remembered the security arrangements well enough. "I believe the walls of the rooms within the Palace are as reinforced as well as the prisons', are they not? Both physically and magically - anti-teleportation wards and the like." I cast a deliberate glance at Apple Bee, who grimaced. "Those were the details I was given by my old Permanent Secretary, in the Ministry of Administrative Affairs. I hardly think they would have been changed since then, unless they were improved."

Mente switched his line of attack. "Perhaps, but one must keep in mind that these rooms have other uses, as well - purposes they must serve. Every section of the Palace was built with a specific intention in mind, and none of those intentions was the incarceration of potential criminals."

"My friends got rooms of their own when they visited a while back." Twilight reminded him. "Six separate rooms, one for each of them. Why can't we spare one for Fancy?"

"With all due respect, Princess," he replied with one of the strongest insults in the Civil Service repertoire, "that was different."

"How?"

"Well, those rooms were only occupied for a few days. You are proposing to allow Mr Pants to take full ownership of a room within the Palace itself, and for an 'indefinite period' of time at that."

"Ownership? I highly doubt that," I said, allowing a little bit of amusement to creep into my voice. "I only expect it to be leased to me, if I am even to take any kind of ownership. I could always just be held in a 'redesignated prison'."

"Yes!" Twilight exclaimed cheerfully. "Exactly. That's exactly what's going to happen. The guest room closest to the throne room is now a prison cell. By royal edict," she added hurriedly. "Fancy will be put in there until his trial."

Mente was decidedly unamused. "I hardly think we can allow him to stay for weeks."

"Surely my trial won't take that long to commence?" I feigned innocence.

"You never know," he snapped at me icily. "The Judiciary can be overworked at times."

"Mente," Twilight cut in, "we have hundreds of guest rooms. Fancy staying in one won't matter."

"It would be a perversion of their purpose," Apple Bee interjected, deciding that this was the opportune moment to make his contribution. "They are meant to comfortably house visiting delegates and other individuals of importance, not common criminals."

I shook my head. "Apple Bee, surely you've heard of the phrase 'Innocent until proven guilty'?"

"My point still stands," he said stubbornly.

"Yes it does. It stands against a royal edict." I gestured to Twilight. "I realise you may all have missed it, given how much you are accustomed to ignoring authority, but Princess Twilight gave you all an order. A royal order." I locked stares with Mente. "Are you prepared to disobey a direct order?"

For what seemed like an eternity, there was absolute silence. The world fell away. There was only Mente and I. Everything was quiet, but I could read his eyes.

Savour this moment, he seemed to be saying. You won't get many more.

Then everything snapped back into focus. Mente was the one to break the silence. "Do as the Princess says," he said to nopony in particular. "Bee, you are in charge. Take him away."

"But, High Councillor..." Apple Bee protested.

"Do it." He ordered. "Now."

"... As you wish." He motioned to the guards, who took up positions beside me. I obeyed the unspoken command and reached out my front hooves; seconds later they were bound in chains.

I turned to Twilight and Fleur, both of whom were giving me concerned looks. "Don't worry about me," I said. "I'll be alright."

Fleur nodded quietly. Twilight, though, was not satisfied. "Remove the cuffs," she ordered.

"Princess?" Apple Bee asked.

"We're still taking him to the gue— I mean, to prison," she clarified. "But we're not going to make it look like that." She pointed at the guards. "Escort him like you would escort me."

"Yes, Princess," both guards said in practised unison. As I had my hooves freed of the chains, I silently marvelled at Twilight's astuteness. Both my business and I could definitely do without the negative publicity... though doubtlessly she saw it more as a matter of embarrassment. Still, she'd done me a big favour.

"It's dangerous to leave him unrestrained," Apple Bee noted.

"With two armed and armoured guards? I don't think so." Twilight looked to the guards. "Escort him to his cell, now. Ignore any orders contradicting what I said."

"Yes, Princess," they repeated.

"Oh, and I'm coming along too." Twilight added. "Mente, Bee, follow me."

"I am your humble servant." Bee murmured. Untruthful as he was, an appearance of subservience was at least better than none at all. Mente simply followed her command without a word.

Today was a success, I think.

[Ed: Princess Sparkle's journal continues below, with a summary of the night's events - the only satisfactorily coherent section of her entry on the 31st.]

---

Long story short, there was a lot of drama, Mente showed up to try and arrest Fancy for a long list of crimes, but together Fancy and I really put him in his place with a brilliant workaround. Now Fancy can openly advise me, and Mente can't say anything about it. I do need to have a look at the evidence on his case though... just in case there's anything to it. I mean, I know Fancy would never break the law - or at least, break the law as badly as Mente thinks - but you can't be too sure, can you?

Tonight was a good night.

---

1st January 2014

High Councillor Tact Ician recalls:

New Year's Day was exhausting. It may have been only a few hours since the event, but much of the Palace was awake and about in the late hours of the night. The Private Secretaries' grapevine was buzzing, and it was not long before the news reached me from its point of origin at the Ministry of Defense. Apparently Tide Turner had spoken with one of the soldiers in Mente's detachment and acquired the full, unabridged story, and from there it had spread like wildfire through the grapevine. I was appalled. Barney [Ed: Barnyard Woolley, Principal Private Secretary to the Minister of Administrative Affairs] was the one who had approached me with the news, and he asked if I had known in advance that this incident was to occur. I explained to him that I had not. He then asked if Mente was absolutely sure of what he was doing. Naturally the only answer I could safely give was that Mente would not do something so drastic unless there was good reason. I was thankful that he didn't ask me what that reason could be, because I hadn't any to offer.

I sought out Mente as soon as I could. I knew that he usually came to the Palace long before the day actually began, but today I was hard-pressed to find him. It later transpired that he was hopping through a series of meetings; I found him at last with Lady Plant, at the Intelligence Bureau. Their conversation wasn't heated, but I remember that there was a lot of tension in the air.

"High Councillor," I interjected. "A moment?"

"Give me a few minutes, Ician," he snapped.

"No, no, it's quite alright really." Plant said. She gestured towards me. "He ought to know this too. The Assistant Councillor should be aware of Palace activities."

"I heard what happened last night." I looked between the both of them, wondering who would be more willing to explain the whole situation to me. "Why did we do this?"

"That's a very good question." Plant glanced at Mente. "Perhaps, High Councillor, you would be better at explaining this than I."

"Of course." Mente narrowed his eyes at her, even as he spoke to me. "Ician, it was a dangerous situation. Very, very dangerous. I had no choice."

"What did he do?" I wasn't sure I wanted to hear the answer.

He didn't reply. Instead, he reached into the chest pocket of his suit and pulled out a small pair of glasses. The older type, without the arms that rested on the ears. I looked at it, then him, confusion no doubt written across my face.

"I told you, did I not?" He floated the glasses over to me and into my own pocket. "I said that you would need these."

I stared at my pocket, the tip of the glasses just barely peeking out. I saw my face in the faint reflection. And then, I saw the comprehension dawn.

Mente saw it too. "Yes, Ician. He is the Princess' advisor."

I was thinking a great many things at the time. I can't quite remember all of them. I was in a sort of daze, the sort that arises from anger and disbelief and shock all clashing at once. So, in the absence of coherent thought, my mind latched on to the one thing that was so ingrained it me that it needed no thought: pedantry.

"'Is'?" I questioned.

"Even imprisoned, he's still a thorn in our side." He sighed. "Unfortunately."

My wits began to come together. "Why did you have to arrest him? That was completely overboard!"

I expected him to be angrier. He wasn't. "What would you have done?"

"I... well, would have asked nicely?" I suggested lamely. His scowl spoke volumes of his lack of amusement. I tried a different tack. "We could just have threatened him. Or given him some incentive to stop."

"Ician, he's currying favour with the Princess. There is no greater incentive," he explained. "Threatening him would only have let on that we knew of his actions and movements. He would have taken much greater care to stay beneath the radar, which would only have made it that much more difficult for us to threaten him with any concrete evidence."

"We could have threatened his reputation, then," I offered. "Surely the Inland Revenue Authority has something on him. Or the press, if we want to expose his social life."

His scowl deepened. "We are not as base as politicians and the media. Stooping that low would be utterly unconscionable. One's private life is one's own, and any taxation issues can be settled quietly. I wish to force him to back down, not to ruin him."

I touched a hoof to my chin. "I'd have thought he would be too afraid to go ahead. We shouldn't have to ruin him."

"I wouldn't be too sure." He shook his head. "Mr Pants is not as base as politicians and the media either. Doubtlessly, he has goals loftier than that of self-preservation and self-profit, misguided as they might be. Unless I have absolutely no choice, I will not resort to such reprehensible tactics. Quick and decisive action was the only course available course."

"Yet," I pointed out, "by your admission, it didn't work."

"It didn't," he acknowledged. "I was careless."

We all sunk into a heavy silence. Finally, Plant spoke up with the question on my mind. "So... what now?"

"Nothing," Mente replied quietly. "I'm afraid the situation is currently beyond our control. I will do all I can to sway the Princess, but for now we're left waiting for another miracle."

"'Another'?" I inquired.

"Yes. A miracle got Fancy Pants in here. Only a miracle will get him out."

[Ed: The journal continues.]

---

I woke up extra early this morning. I was hoping for a New Year's Day holiday, but I wasn't particularly hopeful. I was looking forward a lot more to talking with Fancy Pants - this time without having to sneak around. Mente wasn't in a position to openly defy me anymore. Plus, I didn't think I'd have to deal with him this early.

Turns out I was wrong. But the first sign of that was Ician waiting outside my chamber doors. I smiled and waved, but his face was stone.

"Princess," he greeted me with an inflectionless voice. "Mente says that all the arrangements for Mr Pants' stay have been made. Your authorisation for the official press statement is required."

"Official press statement?" I asked, puzzled. "What for this time?"

"The... unusual activity last night drew some public attention. The Press Office has prepared a reply to the media."

I was surprised at how fast they worked. But then again, I shouldn't have been; the Civil Service could be efficient when it wanted to be. "What does it say?"

"In a nutshell, that Mr Pants was invited to the Palace for economic negotiations concerning a merger between Fancy Co. and the government-affiliated SerglaCorp. The armed escort was only standard procedure with Palace security."

"Is it?" I asked. "I don't remember that procedure."

Ician broke his neutral expression to give me a wan smile. "Anything is standard procedure, Princess, if you look long enough in the Archive."

"Well... I'm really grateful, Ician, that you went through all this trouble to help Fancy. Mente mustn't be very happy about you doing all this."

"On the contrary," Ician replied. The smile disappeared from his face. "He was the one who ordered it."

"... Really." I deadpanned. If there's anything living and working in the Palace taught me, it's scepticism. "Mente was the one?"

"Indeed." He hesitated, his eyes scanning the room. "... May I speak freely, Princess?"

Any sleep left in my head vanished at once. Ician only said that when he had something very serious to say. "Please do. And as often as you can."

"Yes, Princess." He hesitated again. It took a few awkward moments of silence for him to continue. "If I were you... I wouldn't be so trusting of Mr Pants."

If he was anypony else, I probably would have dismissed the comment. But I owed Ician a debt of trust. "Why not?"

"Well..." He took another look around the empty corridor. It occurred to me then that even my guards were missing from their usual positions. I began to wonder if Ician had sent them away for our discussion. "Even though Mente is always against you, at least you can trust him to have the good of the government at heart. Mr Pants... I don't yet know what his true motivations are. Mente seems to think that he knows, but even the High Councillor isn't infallible." He shook his head. "Neither are you, Princess. You must be careful."

"But then..." I wondered what question I should ask. "... who can I trust?"

True to form as a Civil Servant, Ician answered my question without answering it. "That would be for you to decide, Princess."

I decided to refine my question. "Can I trust you, then?"

There was a long pause. The corners of Ician's mouth wilted downwards. "What answer would you expect, coming from the pony you're talking about?"

"... Yes?" I ventured.

"That," he muttered, "would be the conman's response too."

"Then..." I started to realise what he was driving at. "... You can't say no, either."

"No. No, I can't," he said. "I hope you realise Mr Pants' dilemma will be the same, Princess, if you ever ask him. It won't be easy to know if you can trust him or not." His eyes turned downwards. "And it wouldn't be fair to put him on the spot."

For the first time since last night, I began to wonder if I'd made the wrong choice. "How do you know whether you can trust somepony?"

"... When you know who that pony really is," Ician said. "Not that that's ever easy."

"Who do you trust, then?"

For the third time in as many minutes, there was another long pause. Ician seemed to like taking them. I was relieved when he finally spoke up, even if it was with a non-answer. "Not many, Princess."

"Yes, but... who?"

"You and the High Councillor."

"That's... huh." I hadn't expected such a short list. "That's all? What about the rest of the Civil Service?"

"Not even Mente trusts the rest of the Civil Service." He gave me the wan smile from earlier. At least it meant that the withering frown he'd been wearing was gone. "Don't you know, Princess? Everypony's got their own agenda in the Service. We always poke fun at the politicians for being disunited, but the fact is that we're just as disunited as they are, if not more."

"You... are?" I paused. "The politicians are too?"

"Oh... didn't you know?" Ician asked, surprised. "No one... well, almost no one in the Palace is here to actually help. Usually it's for personal gain - for the politicians, it's publicity and money. The Civil Service is more about money and power. That's why we're so much more organised than the politicians; because Mente uses fear to keep the others in line. I try to be nicer to my Private Secretaries than Mente is to... well, everypony, but they usually take care of themselves."

"They do?" My puzzlement was growing. "But didn't you say that everypony works for personal gain?"

"They do," he answered. "For a Private Secretary, doing your job properly is synonymous with personal gain... I'll tell you about it some other time, Princess. Just remember that not many of us here are Private Secretaries." His face darkened. "And neither is Mr Pants."

This again. For some reason it was so much easier to brush it off when somepony else said the same thing. In dire need of distractions, I pointed out half-jokingly, "Neither are you."

Yet again, there was another awkward silence. I was gradually became aware of the faux pas I'd made when Ician put me out of my misery. "Yes, Princess," he murmured, "I suppose you're right."

"Ician, I didn't mean—"

"Maybe it might be better if you did." He paused just long enough to take a slow, calming breath. "I should leave now, Princess. I need to process your approval for the press release, as soon as possible. Good day." And he walked away.

I got as far as "No, hold on, Ician, wait—" before he rounded the corner and I lost sight of him. I briefly considered going after him. My rational side reminded me that he probably wouldn't take kindly to me chasing after him. I decided to give him time to collect himself.

It was only after I went back into my room and stared at my frazzled, heavily eyebag-laden reflection in the mirror that it occurred to me that maybe I was the one who needed to collect herself.

Absently, I muttered at myself, "Are you okay?"

The reflection stared back into my tired eyes and answered, wearily, "Yes, Princess."

I suppose every now and then some lies are worth telling.