Fragrant's Night
Duchess Fragrant Posey was awoken by the discrete coughing of one of her maids, she opened her eyes to welcome the new evening as the servant drew back the curtains before leaving the room. In the past, Fragrant’s instinct would have tried to ignore the sound and burrow back into her comfortable and soft cloud bed, requiring the servant to repeat the process in a few minutes, but recently she found herself more and more enthusiastic about facing the challenges of a new night. She glanced out the window of her town house, where the sun hung low in the sky. It was almost summer, and there were still a few hours until it would set. Daintily, she stretched out all six of her limbs. Hearing her joints crack, she rolled off the bed and gently floated the short distance to the floor. She yawned. She was still a bit tired; she should have gotten to bed earlier, but Max had wanted to go over some figures with her, and then he’d gotten to talking about a time he’d went berry picking as a foal and had ended up being chased by a bear, and she hadn’t had the heart to stop him. Her pupil was a surprisingly good and passionate storyteller; she could guess that he hadn’t gotten killed by the bear, but he made it sound like it had been a distinct possibility. He did tend to get off track, though, so his story had taken a while.
In fact, she suspected it was partially due to Max that she felt so chipper this morning. Maybe acting as a teacher was agreeing with her, but it was exciting to see the nightly life of the court through her squire’s eyes. Every vote was a hoof biting thrill, every committee meeting could change the whole of Equestria! She grinned to herself. She had used to think that nothing new ever seemed to happen, but Max was showing her that she could savour every victory, no matter how small, and that everything she did impacted on real ponies. It was something that she had only recently realised she had been forgetting.
Humming to herself, she wandered over to her mirror. Not bad, she thought, turning around. It might be her vanity speaking, but given her forty-something (she tried not to think too hard about the exact number) years on the planet, she could be in much worse condition. She got many compliments - some even sincere - about her ‘natural’ beauty; few guessed exactly how much work it took to be ‘natural’, how carefully balanced her diet was, and how long she spent getting ready each morning. It was over an hour until her first appointment, and she was already behind schedule. Sometimes she wondered if it was all worthwhile. Indeed, only a few months ago she had considered letting herself go, to start to age gracefully, but then she’d decided that she probably still had a few more years in her. She stared at her mane intently, noticing a few strands of grey amongst the pink; maybe not that many more, though. She sighed and spread her wings, noticing several displaced feathers; she was overdue a preening. She’d had to cancel several of her regular appointments due to other commitments. She craned her neck and started to reorder her feathers. This was much easier for somepony else to do. Maybe she should call in a maid to help her, or somepony else; Max had mentioned that he used to have a pegasus marefriend - Zipper or something; he should know his way around a pair of wings. She shuddered as she imagined his teeth gently tugging at her feathers one by one, lightly pushing them into position with his tongue.
Stop it! She ordered herself, feeling blood rush to her face as this evening’s sunny disposition slipped for a moment. Increasingly, she’d found herself having improper thoughts about her earth pony colleague. She should keep herself better under control; he was her friend, not anything more! It wasn’t right to feel that way, she didn’t want to... she couldn’t let herself feel that way. Grinding her teeth in frustration, she made her way to her bathroom. Stepping into her shower, she turned up the cold tap and felt the frigid water begin to soak into her. No, it wasn’t right at all. She reached for the first of the dozen bottles of shampoo and conditioner she would use.
Refreshed and dried, she eventually returned to her bedroom, coat fully cleansed and mane styled. The grey hairs she had seen earlier now graced her hair brush. While she had been away, her maids had laid out several choices of outfits for the day. She gazed at each of them critically. The red number with the hat? No, she felt like keeping her ears free today. The black? Too old fashioned; she would look like her mother. The purple? Max had mentioned that the colour looked good on her, it looked regal. Yes, that would do; she should look commanding for the vote later. Once she had finished dressing, she examined herself again. Something more was needed. Her eyes fell on a necklace laid out on the side; that would be perfect! It was far from the most expensive or intricate piece she owned, but it did have sentimental value; it had belonged to her mother, a gift from her father. She had been most upset when it had been stolen recently; Max had offered to try and track it down, despite his lack of detective skills. The thieves had turned out to be two lowlife unicorns who had had the nerve, once captured, to try to blackmail her using slanderous lies; even threatening poor Fluttering! To her surprise, the newly promoted Duke Greengrass had dealt with them. It was a surprisingly nice gesture, and her first instinct had been to suspect he was up to something, but she had tried to accept the gesture in good faith; Max would do so. She sighed again. That stallion seemed to be the only thing on her mind these days; it was most disconcerting.
She turned to leave when she realised she was due to have breakfast with him. He really was everywhere in her life.
Fragrant trotted into the banqueting hall. The place was packed. Normally she preferred to have breakfast elsewhere, but she had a busy schedule today and couldn’t take the time to go further afield. She scanned the room, and couldn't help but smile as she saw Max standing next to a table, waving a hoof excitedly at her. “You know, Baron Max,” she said as she approached, “Most courtiers show a little more decorum at the dining table.” Max stood, and she gave him a quick friendly hug. He kindly pulled back her chair and she sat; despite growing up in the middle of nowhere, he showed good manners, at least. She gave a quick nod to her assistant, Notebook, who was also seated at the table.
“Sorry,” replied Max, looking chastised for a moment.
“Never mind. No Mrs Gobhar this morning?”
“No,” said Max with a yawn. “She wanted to get cracking on a few, um... reports.”
Fragrant noticed that Max had already provided a bowl of her usual cereal and a jug of milk, next to his own plate of hay bacon and eggs. She glanced up at him again and noticed deep lines under his eyes. “When did you get to bed this morning?” she asked.
“Uh, quite late, I had a lot of do. I wanted to go over the farming figures again to make sure I had them all down.”
“That was a good idea, but you’ll do yourself no good if you fall asleep during your meeting. See if you can get a nap later. You’ll feel much better.”
“I just want to get it all right. It’s my first day on the South-eastern Equestrian Farming Subsidy Committee,” he seemed to glow with excitement.
Fragrant grinned again. She could hardly remember when joining a new committee seemed like such an adventure.
“I still don’t know why I got nominated. Are you sure you didn’t have a hoof in it?” asked Max.
“I didn’t do anything, Max. It’s all your hard work,” replied Posey, mostly truefully. She suspected that Marquis Jet Stream had arranged Max’s new role. Since Max had called her out about her feud with the Marquis, Posey had made an effort to build bridges with the other mare. Rather than rejecting weather factory development in her rival’s home of Las Pegasus as a matter of course, she had instead investigated more closely and found that yes, investment in the city did make sense. Its course normally resulted in it being on the opposite side of Equestria to Cloudsdale, so cloud production there made sense. To her surprise, her rival seemed to reciprocate and - although still openly hostile - had behind closed doors stopped trying to block Fragrant’s cloud export bill. Max’s new position seemed to be another expression of Jet Stream’s thanks, as she was also seated on his new committee. It was a surprise how easily the feud seemed to die down.
“How is my schedule today?” asked Fragrant, turning to Notebook.
“Here you are, madam,” said Notebook, passing over a short document.
Fragrant’s eyes quickly scanned it. “Not too bad.”
“Yes, you still have time put aside for your now cancelled trial.”
Max took out his own, somewhat less tidy, document. “I’ve got some reports to file by the morning, then the committee meeting.”
“Is this why Mrs Gobhar is not here? Why are your reports so late?” asked Fragrant with a raised eyebrow.
“Um, I might have dropped them behind the filing cabinet,” muttered Max, blushing.
“Max!” He could be hopeless sometimes.
“It’ll be the last time, I swear!”
“Anyway,” said Fragrant with a sigh. “I have a meeting with Vicereine Wallflower in a short time, then Notebook and I can go over the latest weather contract figures. I am afraid I will not be able to meet you for dinner today; I have my weekly chess game with Baron Sands. Fancy Pants and Fleur are challenging us. You can watch if you’re free.”
“No thanks, I’m not much into chess. I might try to catch up on my sleep.”
“Fair enough, now...”
“Mind if we sit here?” came a familiar voice. Fragrant turned to see Baron Rolling Fields and his daughter standing over her. The elderly Baron seemed to be in fine health today, not even requiring a stick. His daughter was dressed in a rather short skirt made of layered black and white fabric. Fragrant was aware the style was currently fashionable, and the filly wore it well; Fragrant wasn’t sure she could pull off something similar at her age.
“Of course not,” she replied, gesturing at the empty seats. The Baron sat, with a little difficulty, and laid down a tray piled with toast and jam in front of himself. Max stood again and pulled out a seat for Buttercup. He could be rather embarrassing sometimes, thought Fragrant; the mare was obviously capable of sitting without help! The green mare smiled as she sat, and shifted her seat a little closer to Max before starting on her own plate of muffins. It was amazing that the filly kept so slim eating like that, thought Fragrant, looking down at her own half-eaten meal.
“So, what were you talking about?” asked Rolling. “Not interrupting, are we?”
“I was just going over my schedule with Max. I have a fair number of committee meetings in the morning. There are several votes at the end of today’s session, but most are fairly inconsequential. There is that Builder contract, though.” Fragrant shuddered slightly. She remembered her agreement with Fisher over that vote; hopefully it should all be safely behind her by the end of the night. By her reckoning, he would win by at least three votes.
“Oh, yes. You wanted me to vote for Fisher, right?” said Max.
“Who I want you to vote for is inconsequential. As I’ve told you, you are your own stallion. It is between you and your conscience who you vote for, but we’ve been over those figures, and you saw that the overall benefit is greater if Fisher gets the contract.”
“I think so,” said Max, not sounding entirely convinced. He raised a hoof to his eye, now fully recovered from his fight with the Archduke.
“If you have the time, look over the figures that Fisher provided again, and make up your mind.”
“I’m voting for Puissance myself,” noted Rolling, around a mouthful of toast. “That mare can do wonders with money. The original proposal might not seem the best, but I’m sure she can get more bang for her bits in the long term. Plus Fisher got the last contract.”
“Actually, there’s another important vote in the morning,” mumbled Buttercup, yawning. Fragrant glanced over at the younger pony, who seemed half asleep. She was a little surprised; the younger mare rarely spoke up in groups, leaving most of the talking to her father. “Really?” she asked.
“Yes, there is a vote on allocating funds to build a new orphanage in Ontarneigho. A charity I support has been raising funds there for years, and this grant would be a big boost,” she continued, her voice rising as she became more passionate about her cause.
Fragrant flicked through her notes. “Ah yes, I see it. Yes, you have my support in this matter. The current facilities really aren't sufficient.”
“Me too,” said Max.
“Thank you,” said Buttercup looking at Max. “Thanks to both of you.”
“Anyway, after the votes I have a few more meetings. Then we can meet up again to continue your lessons, Max. I hope you’ve redrafted your bill since yesterday.”
“I’ll get on it. We can talk a bit about the everypony issue as well.”
Fragrant nodded. She’d run a few checks and it seemed like over 80% of legislation used the term everypony in place of everyone. It was a little worrying how little ponies had thought about the difference in the past. However, as it was so widespread, there was little that could be done. Still, it was good practice for Max to do research.
“Actually,” said Rolling, “If you’ve got a few moments after court, I’ve got a proposal I’d like to go over with you, Max.”
“I’m sure I can spare a few minutes,” said Max.
Fragrant wondered what Rolling wanted to talk about. She shrugged; no doubt Max would tell her later. She glanced up the clock. “I better be off. I don’t want to keep the Vicereine waiting.”
“I better be off as well,” said Max. “Mrs G is waiting for her morning cake. She can be a terror when she’s hungry.”
Fragrant was just entering the Vicereine’s quarters when she was attacked by a huge hairy monster almost as big as herself. It leapt upon her, trying to barrel her over. One head bared its teeth and growled, while the other let out a series of loud barks into her face. Knowing what to expect, Fragrant held her ground and closed her eyes as the heads began to nuzzle and lick at her face, coating her in saliva.
“Liebe! Toleranz!” came a booming voice. “Bad boy! Leave Fragrant alone!”
The two headed dog immediately jumped off of her and turned to slump down by the side of its mistress.
“He’s just pleased to see you,” said Wallflower, smiling lovingly at her pet. She was a short and rather plump earth pony mare, her red mane a dense forest of curls and her coat a light brown. “Aren't you?” she continued patting the dog on first one head then the other. The creature barked in agreement.
Cautiously, Fragrant took a seat, not taking her eyes from the creature. She - and much of the court - wasn’t comfortable around the large dog-like animal the Vicereine kept in her office; Baroness Cat’ady refused to set hoof in the wing. Wallflower had once confided that she considered Liebe and Toleranz and his predecessors a vital part of her success; he tended to frighten off anyone who didn’t have important news, thus ensuring she wasn’t bothered by trivial matters.
“Tea? Something stronger?” offered Wallflower, plopping herself into a large leather armchair and lifting a decanter of brandy. The Vicereine’s quarters were decorated in a lavish but homely style; wooden panelling covered the walls, upon which were hung family portraits of Wallflower and her wife, as well as their pets. Despite the early summer warmth, a fire was blazing in the grate. Fragrant was glad of her pegasus-born resistance to heat. Above the hearth was mounted a large crossbow, and here and there were stuffed fish - another of the Vicerenine’s hobbies which Fragrant secretly found disgusting.
“You know I don’t, this early,” said Fragrant with a smile.
“Well, one of these days you’re going to have to get a life, you know. All work and no play make Fragrant a dull mare and all that,” said the Vicereine, pouring herself a drink. The two had been friends for almost the whole of Fragrant’s political career, over twenty years now. In fact, Fragrant had helped to introduce Wallflower to her wife, Holly Bush. Holly had been a friend of Fragrant’s from her time at university.
Greetings done with, the two of them chatted about recent events at court. Or rather Wallflower did most of the actual talking, and Fragrant added the occasional point. The earth pony’s personality was rather direct; although not purposely rude, her high rank meant that it rarely occurred to her that somepony else might actually disagree with her. In some ways she did fit her name, thought Fragrant; her personality tended to grow over and overwhelm anypony else in the room.
“Now you should keep an eye on Night Light,” said Wallflower, leaning forwards in her chair. “He’s taking his daughter’s disappearance rather badly - he might be a bit unstable. That girl was always a bit flighty… it’s all that learnin’, you know, rots the brain. Now Shining Armour, he’s more stable, I can see that colt going far.”
“Do you really think Night Light might do something wrong?”
She leaned back in her chair. “He’s always seemed like a stout fellow to me, but this comes from above.” She pointed at the ceiling.
“The Princess herself?”
Wallflower nodded. “It’s just for a month or so, just to make sure he doesn’t do anything rash. I don’t want to think about what I’d do if something happened to Holly. You know what that mare of mine did last night? She gave all the servants the night off and she cooked a candle light dinner all by herself, just for the two of us.” She smiled happily, gazing into the air. “Sometimes I think I’m the luckiest mare in the world. ‘Course, I ended up having to feed most of it to Liebe and Toleranz, didn’t I.” She leaned over and patted the dog on its heads as its tail thumped heavily against the ground. “She’s not much of a cook, is me Holly Wally Bear, and you got a tummy ache, didn’t you? Yes you did.”
Fragrant smiled as one of the most powerful ponies in the country lapsed into baby talk while she scratched her dog’s belly. Wallflower and Holly had never adopted - their schedules didn’t give them much free time - but it was clear who Wallflower considered her baby to be.
Wallflower noticed Fragrant’s expression and tried to compose herself. “Anyway, what with Hearts and Hooves just around the corner, I’m going to take Holly off to the Empire for a few days. You know she likes the skiing, can't stand snow meself, but what can you do? So I’m going to be out of the way for a while. Hopefully Night Light and Puissance can avoid starting a war while I’m away. Are you going to be doing anything with your beau?”
Fragrant blinked. “My... my what?”
“Your fella, that Maximus chappy, the one Luna hooked you up with. Why, how many fellas do you have on the go?” She gave a wink at Fragrant.
“I’m afraid you’re wrong, we’re just colleagues.” How could Wallflower have gotten that idea?
“Nope, I’ve seen him follow you around, he looks like Liebe and Toleranz when they want a treat, and, well, you’ve been looking happier than I’ve seen in a ten year. You deserve a special somepony. Besides, he seems to be a fine figure of a stallion, not that I know much about that, but I’m sure he could sire a whole litter with you...” she caught sight of Fragrance’s face and paused, her face falling. “Oh, I’m sorry me dear, that was thoughtless of me...”
“No, no,” sighed Fragrance, her face pale. “It’s been almost twenty years, it... its history.”
The two of them sat in silence for a moment, then Fragrance finally spoke. “If you recall, there’s the Builder contract vote in the morning.”
“Ah, yes, you still think Fisher’s the better choice?”
“It’s close, but I think his people need it more.”
“Fair enough, though he’s been giving me a headache recently, saber rattling with the Griffins, as if we didn’t have enough of a problem with Corona herself out there somewhere. I’ve half a mind to vote against him just to punish him, but the people come first and all that.”
Fragrance nodded. She didn’t need to be told how much of a pain Fisher could be.
“Relates to your stall... your Max, actually. Something about a camp of spies in his lands; Fisher wanted to go in all clod-hoofed, I had to give him a bit of a tab on the muzzle with a rolled newspaper, so to speak. I sent in one of me bright young things, everything checked out.” Bright young things was Wallflower’s term for a certain sub-section of the Royal Diplomatic Corps, or spies as others called them. “Now, if you’re havin’ any problems with Bobbing, just let me know.” She glanced up pointedly.
For a moment, Fragrance wondered if Wallflower knew about her agreement with Fisher about today's vote. She would not put it past her friend; she might seem eccentric, but she was a Vicereine - one of the most powerful ponies in the land. She should not be underestimated. It would be nice to have someone in her corner if things did turn out bad, but she shouldn’t need it.
“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to smooth some feathers thanks to Bobbing. I’ll see you again next week,” announced Wallflower, hopping up from her chair.
Fragrant stood and grasped her hoof, giving it a shake before heading for the door.
It wasn’t that far a walk to her office, but Fragrant spent the time deep in thought. I was odd that Wallflower would think that Max and her were a couple. She had to admit that she found the stallion attractive in a rustic way, but that was purely physical and, yes, she thought he might find her attractive despite their age difference. But she couldn’t be more than friends with him; she couldn’t risk things ending like they had before… she couldn’t take that pain again.
But, another part of her thought, could she still remember how happy she had been before it had ended? What if she could have that again?
She was happy now, she responded to herself, happier than she had been for a long time.
Happier because of Max; he made her happy. With his stories of home, his excitement at even the simple parts of their life, the sheer life within him.
All the more reason not to take it farther - she might lose what she already had.
But she might gain more!
Fragrant was so caught up in her conflicting thoughts that she almost walked into the door of her office; she only just stopped herself at the last moment, earning herself some odd glances from the various staff around her.
Notebook glided up to her. “Are you alright, my lady?” he asked, as unflappable as always.
“I am fine, thank you,” she said, trying to maintain her dignity as she entered the office and took her place behind the desk. “You have today’s reports?”
“Yes, most of it is fairly standard. There is a small runaway storm near Manehatten, but the local weather patrol expect...”
Keeping only half an ear on her assistant, Fragrant’s thoughts returned to Max once again. He did always seem to be polite and attentive to her, but he was like that to every mare he met - it was somewhat aggravating. Did it mean that he felt anything for her? Did he consider her more than a colleague and teacher? She had discussed the matter with Mrs Gobhar only a few weeks ago, and it had seemed so obvious then, but now that she considered doing something about it, the proof felt so flimsy. The goat probably knew Max better than anyone else, but she was still a goat; what did she know about pony relationships?
Should she ask him? Would that drive him away? Hearts and Hooves Day was only a few days away; what better time to ask somepony if they... if he wanted...
“There's always the threat of an attack by say, a dragon,” continued Notebook. “The kind that eats the sun once every thirty days. It's a nuisance, but what can you expect from reptiles? Did I mention that my nose is on fire? And that I have fifteen wild badgers living in my wings?”
Wait! thought Fragrant, that didn’t sound right! She glared at Notebook, who had let his normally strict facade drop.
“I'm sorry, would you prefer ferrets? You haven't been listening to a word I’ve been saying for the last ten minutes.”
“I am sorry, I am feeling a little distracted.”
“What is on your mind?” he asked. “Can I be of assistance?”
Fragrant sighed. There were times she thought that Notebook was the perfect assistant. In public he was always formal and proper; in private he was always honest, brutally honest if asked, but she wasn’t sure if she wanted that now. “It is about Baron Max.”
“What about him? Has he made another blunder? Told Puissance that she’s getting on a bit and should maybe slow down?” He grinned.
“No, nothing like that… I was just thinking, Wallflower thought that Max and I were together and, well, do you think... do you think he likes me?” She lowered her eyes and blushed. She felt like a schoolfilly again.
“Do I think he likes you?” repeated Notebook, blinking rapidly.
“Yes,” squeaked Fragrant, wrapping her wings around herself. This was so very embarrassing.
Notebook gave out a booming laugh. “Like you? I think he adores you.”
An unexpected fountain of joy seemed to erupt within Fragrant’s heart; she was sure she was flying without even flapping her wings. He did like her!
Then a thought seemed to strike Notebook. “That damned goat! She wins again!”
That brought her back to Equestria again. “What? What goat?” she demanded.
“Mrs G and I had a bet on which one of you would be willing to talk about it first. I was sure Max would work up the courage before you did. He’s much less uptight.”
“You had a bet on my social life! That is most improper! And I am not uptight!”
Notebook raised an eyebrow.
“Very well, maybe I am a little reserved. How did you know I felt this way about Max?”
“What did you do this morning when you met him for breakfast?”
Fragrant thought back. “I, I hugged him, but friends do that all the time.”
“Some friends do. What did you do when you met Wallflower?”
“I shook her hoof.”
“Exactly, and you’ve known her for twenty years and went to her wedding. You’ve had a sort of glow this last month or so; it’s been good to see you happy. I did wonder if you were sneakier than I thought, and were already together.”
“There has been nothing going on between me and Mount Me Max!” Then she realised what she had just said and her face glowed bright.
“Then there’s been things like that,” dead panned Notebook.
“I, I do not know what to do about this. My previous relationship did not end well.” Glass, like crawling over a field of broken glass. “I don’t want to feel that way again… what should I do?”
“Only you can answer that, my lady, but from what I know of Max, he would never try to hurt you.”
“I used to think that of another stallion,” she mumbled.
“Look, Hearts and Hooves is in a few days. Ask him to go somewhere with you; if it all falls apart, you can claim it was a love poison.” He grinned. “If it goes really well, you can claim it was a love poison as well.”
“Should I... could I?”
“Hey, if you don’t, I will. He’s quite a catch, what with that climbing thing he’s got going on; he’s ripped and fun and loyal and polite.”
“Yes, he is, isn’t he?” whispered Fragrant, then pulled herself together again. “I don’t think he feels that way about stallions.”
“This isn’t stallions, this is me!” replied her assistant, preening.
She snorted. “I think you might be overselling yourself.”
“Well, you’ll just have to go through with it so we don’t have to find out, won’t you?”
She thought for a moment then smiled. “We will see. Thank you.”
“Do not mention it, ma’am,” replied Notebook slipping back into his formal mask. “We have much more to go over.”
“The Baron can’t make our chess game?” asked Fragrant, looking up from the note and trying to mask her disappointment.
“I am afraid not, ma’am,” said the page who had delivered it. “He has a census report to complete. Duke Greengrass asked for his help with it.”
Fragrant narrowed her eyes. What was the Duke up to? What was he planning? Then she shook herself. She didn’t have to be so paranoid; there might not be an ulterior motive. He had helped to recover her necklace, after all. She should try to think better of some ponies - it’s what Max would do - and it seemed to be working between herself and Jet stream. She should give him the benefit of doubt for the moment. Still, she would need to break the news to Fancypants and Fleur. Maybe she could find another player; she was sure that somepony would turn up. She was in too good a mood to let something like this spoil it.
She turned the corner and almost bumped into a short red headed stallion. “Oh, Duke Greengrass!” she exclaimed. Speak of Tirek.
“Duchess! Hello! How can I help you?” he replied, smiling insincerely.
“Apparently, you’ve stolen my chess partner,” said Posey with a reproachful look. “Duke Sand sent me a note that he’s filing a census report you were neglecting?”
“Oh – I am so sorry! When I asked for his help, I had no idea he was to be otherwise occupied.” Greengrass looked abashed and bowed his head. “I deeply apologize, Duchess. Please, allow me to make it up to you.”
“How?” What was he up to?
“Well, as it happens, I’ve played a few games of chess in my time. If you need a partner, I can set aside my plans and aid you.”
She couldn’t see how that would hurt. He might be just trying to ingratiate himself with her, but there was no reason to think badly of him. Maybe his promotion to Duke had matured him, make him give up his silly ‘games’. “I suppose that’s fair. But I should warn you, Fancy Pants and Fleur de Lis are quite good.”
“Well, I suppose a drubbing at the board is the least I deserve for inconveniencing as noble a pegasus as yourself.” He gave a little bow.
Fragrant laughed. He was laying it on a little thick. “This way,” she said. “We are playing in the café in the courtyard.”
The journey was short, and Fragrant and her companion ordered their drinks and sat at one of the chess tables on the patio next to Fleur de Lis and Fancy Pants. Despite being midnight, it was still warm enough to sit comfortably.
“Greengrass! How good to see you again!” said Fancy Pants with a smile. “Trip back from Trottingham went well, I trust?”
“Fine,” said Greengrass. “No problems.”
“Trottingham?” asked Fragrant.
“We were just at the big farm competition out that way,” explained Greengrass. “As the celebrity judges.”
“Splendid competition,” added Fancy Pants. “And the food was delicious. I must say, maybe I’ll do tasting competitions more often!”
Fleur de Lis chuckled. “A lovely idea, dear.”
“It’s just that the food is so sublime! All those plates, just to impress somepony like me. It makes you feel really valued.” Fragrant smiled. She had been an associate of Fancy Pants and his wife for a while. He was not the fool he often played, but he did seem to appreciate the simpler things in life. She looked around for a moment. Max was not present; he must be napping. Part of her wanted to rush off to him now and ask him out, while a larger, more frightened, part warned her to wait to after court to try and decide what to say.
A waiter brought them their coffees and began setting up the pieces on the two chess boards.
“We’re playing bughouse chess, Duke Greengrass,” explained Fragrant.
“Ah one of my favourite versions,” he replied with a smile. “I do like the extra complexity and the need to work together as a team.”
“Shall we play mares versus stallions?” asked Fancy Pants. “Or would we poor colts be too disadvantaged by such distracting beauty?”
Fleur gave a musical laugh. “I am sure you will manage, dear.” She leant over and gave her husband a kiss. Fragrant blushed slightly; she couldn’t help but think of her and Max in the same position.
Looking slightly sickened, Greengrass made his first move. “I see you’re wearing your locket, Posey,” he said.
“Oh, yes.” Fragrant smiled. “I just got it back.”
“It was stolen, I heard,” said Fancy Pants, looking grave.
“Yes, by two unicorns. But they were caught in Fillydelphia.” Fragrant nodded as she moved a piece. “Thank you for your help, Duke,” she said politely.
“No problem. When I heard what they’d tried, I couldn’t do nothing.” Maybe he really did want to ‘play nice’ thought Posey.
“What did they try?” asked Fleur.
“They wrote me a letter from prison,” said Fragrant, gritting her teeth. “They told me that, if I didn’t drop the charges, they would drag out the trial and make me look horrible. They even threatened to bring Fluttering Posey into it. Make up stories about her…” She had been furious that they had dared to bring her niece into the matter. It had taken both Notebook and Max to talk her down from taking direct action; in fact, the latter had looked quite shocked at her behaviour. It was a part of her that Fragrant wasn’t proud of, but nopony would threaten her family.
“I couldn’t let that stand,” said Greengrass. “I contacted the warden and the judge and told them what had happened, how those two were using their freedom to communicate to harass and intimidate Posey. Flim and Flam were moved to solitary confinement, their writing implements removed, and their trial will be closed to the public. They won’t be able to hurt the Poseys anymore.”
“I appreciate it. I knew that if I had acted, it would have looked suspicious… after all, they stole from me, so some might think I’d want to interfere with the trial.”
“It was my pleasure to help,” said the Duke.
“Quite kind of you,” said Fancy Pants. Was that a touch of sarcasm? “An honourable pony through and through, you are.” He captured one of Fragrant’s pieces and passed it to the Duke. “You know, I think I heard about that case. Didn’t those unicorns kidnap a foal?” Fragrance was familiar with the case; indeed they had, using magic to control her mind. She was very glad they were likely to be kept away from society for a long time.
“If so, I imagine they’ll be charged with it,” said Greengrass, neutrally.
“I wish there was some way to ask them. If they did, they ought to be made to pay for it,” said Fancy Pants, sounding a little suspicious.
“Well, as they’re charged with treason, and now with harassing the victim by mail, it might be difficult to talk to them,” said Greengrass. “I don’t think they can receive visitors or contact the outside world. Still, if you really want, it could perhaps be arranged.”
“Oh, not if it would be a bother,” said Fancy Pants.
The game continued for about another half hour. The stallions quickly moved into the led. Fancy Pants was a lot better at the game than his persona would suggest, and Greengrass was hardly a slouch. Fragrant would be the first to admit she wasn’t playing her best game tonight; she kept getting distracted by her plans for the morning.
“By the way, Posey,” said Greengrass. “I was just talking to Vicereine Puissance. Apparently you lead the swing faction in the vote this morning.”
“Me?” said Fragrant, sounding surprised. She had almost forgotten about the vote, getting caught up in her personal matters. She still had her duty to the court, she scolded herself. “Oh, I wouldn’t say that. There’s a few of us who got together to do some fact-checking, that’s all.”
“Still, I heard you’re in charge.”
“We all came to our conclusions independently.” Fragrant frowned. Was this what Greengrass had been working up to? Something as simple as trying to change her vote? It seemed too much effort for such a small thing. “Are you trying to get me to change my vote? Because—“
“No!” said Greengrass, holding up his front hooves defensively. “No, honest. I might be new, but I know better than to try to manipulate you, Duchess.”
Again with the false praise. Was there more to this then there seemed? Was he trying to get her to break her agreement with Fisher, cause conflict between them? “Flatterer. But my mind’s made up. I really do appreciate helping me deal with those unicorns, Greengrass, and I would like to repay you… but I can’t on this. Fisher needs the grant more than the Vicereine.”
“Understood.” Greengrass continuing his game, then he paused for a moment. “But that’s just what I mean. With a personality like that, I bet none of the ponies in your faction wanted to question you.”
“That’s not true at all. Even though I knew how I was voting, many of the others took a lot longer to make up their minds. Baron Mounty Max only decided a couple of days ago, after all.”
“And he’s for Fisher too?”
“Yes, of course. The evidence really does lead that way.” The difference in benefits between the two sides was small, but it was there; even Max had picked it up eventually, after she’d gone through it a few times with him. In depth studying of masses of figures was not his forte.
“Well… good luck, then.” Greengrass smiled. “I hope it’s the right choice.”
“Ah,” said Fancy Pants. “It’s always so refreshing when we can share camaraderie, despite being on opposite sides of some issues.”
“…Yes,” said Greengrass with a smile. “Yes, it is.”
A shiver ran through Fragrant that had nothing to do with the chill of the night. She hoped she had been right to put her trust in Greengrass.
The first game ended with a crushing loss to the mares. Fragrant had been about to suggest another game when Greengrass had made his excuses and scuttled away. She had sat chatting with Fancy and Fleur for a while longer. She had considered telling them about her plans for her and Max. They seemed a happy couple… maybe they could give her some suggestions, but she didn’t feel like announcing such a private matter. Fleur could be such a gossip.
All too soon her free time came to an end, and after a quick bite to eat - the cafe produced a passable daisy sandwich - she was due in several committee meetings. And between those, she wanted to check up on her various allies; Greengrass’ interest in the vote suggested something might be up. The time seemed to grind by at a snail’s pace, and she found it hard to concentrate on her work; her mind kept returning to the Max situation. What if Notebook was wrong? What if Max did not feel the same way as she did, what would he think, what would he do? It would be awkward to continue as his mentor; would he petition Luna for somepony else to take up that role? Would she lose him entirely?
No, she couldn’t think that way. She deserved to have something good happen to her, she deserved it! She would do it this evening, she would ask him to dinner on Hearts and Hooves and he would say yes.
She hoped.
Fragrant had only just returned to her office after her last meeting when the bell was rung to summon the courtiers to vote. She took her time making her way to her box, stopping along the way to greet a few of her friends and allies and checking how they planned to vote; it didn’t look like there would be any surprises. She couldn't see Max among the crush of nobles; she hoped he wasn’t still asleep. She had previously invited him to view votes from her box, but he had said that he preferred to see the events from the ground. It apparently made it feel more real, whatever that was supposed to mean.
Arriving in her box, she slumped into her cloud seat. Notebook had left her a checklist of the various votes over the next half hour or so, and the expected result. She peered down towards the lower ranks, and finally caught sight of Max. He apparently saw her at the same time, and waved back cheerfully. Fragrant briefly felt the urge to respond in kind, but she was worried about how it would look. That was a thing about Max; he didn’t seem to worry about what other ponies would think of his behaviour. It was annoying at times, but also a little liberating. She settled for nodding in his direction, and he turned back to a conversation with Baron Fields, who was sitting next to him. Considering, Fragrant took a piece of paper and a quill and began to write a message to Max, asking him to meet her in her private quarters in the castle after the vote. They often retired there after the court closed, to continue his lessons. Hum… when she thought about it like that, maybe it wasn’t that strange that Wallflower thought they were together. Still, she would feel better putting forwards her proposal there rather than in her office, where a servant could barge in at any point. She passed the message to a page, with instructions for him to deliver it to Max, before she sat back and waited for the voting to begin.
The first few votes ran by as expected. The only real surprise was how much support the orphanage bill got; Puissance’s supporters voted for it despite their patron normally hating to provide such funding to external agencies. Fragrant idly made a note to investigate the matter further; she was sure the Vicereine was getting some benefit out of the deal somewhere. Buttercup seemed to be very excited by the outcome. She was down on the floor with her father and Max and hugging them both. The filly could do with showing some restraint.
As the votes continued, Fragrant felt herself getting more and more nervous. She still hadn’t decided how to ask out Max; it had been a long, long time since she had had to do something like this before. Should she act like it was a business meal, or could that lead to misunderstanding? Just say how she felt, out loud? What if he said no?
The final vote of the night rolled around, and Fragrant found it to be an almost welcome distraction. The voting started down in the lower ranks, split almost equally between Fisher and Puissance; no surprises so far. When it came to Max’s turn to vote, Fragrant could immediately see something was wrong. He looked nervous and was even shaking a bit. She leaned forwards in her seat. What could be the matter with him? He couldn’t be ill, could he?
“I vote – I vote for Puissance!” stuttered Max. He slumped back into his seat, and Baron Fields leaned over to him. Could the old stallion have gotten to him, somehow? thought Fragrant. No, that wasn’t Fields’ style. Greengrass! He was looking to change the vote for some reason, and he had gotten from her that Max was unsure on the matter; the Duke must have changed his mind. She sighed. She was angry with Greengrass, but also a little disappointed in Max; she’d hoped by now he would be getting used to the court’s tricks.
To her lesser surprise, now that she knew Greengrass was meddling, both Archduchess Nobility and Viscount Blueblood unexpectedly voted for Puissance as well. By the end of the vote, Greengrass was grinning very much like the cat that had gotten the cream, Puissance seemed surprised at her victory, and Fisher was fuming, glancing backwards and forwards between Fragrant’s and Greengrass’ boxes. Fragrant sighed. So much for burying the hatchet with Fisher. He probably wouldn’t be happy he hadn’t secured him the promised grant. Hopefully she was now the target of his ire rather than Max; she, at least, knew how to protect herself. She felt a little disappointed as well. She had hoped that Greengrass had turned over a new leaf, but apparently both his efforts at dealing with the thieving unicorns and their chess game earlier had been rouses to try to get into her trust, efforts she had allowed to succeed. She suddenly felt so weary. Was it worth trying to help anypony, when all they did was lie and cheat? Would Jet Set turn on her eventually? Would Max?
For a moment she considered leaving things the way they were; staying just friends with Max, not risking anything, not getting hurt. But no, Wallflower had Holly, and Fancy Pants had Fleur; she had seen how happy they were. She would have Max, or at least she would try; she had to risk to gain. Glancing down, she noticed that Max had already left the chamber. She would have to hurry, unless she wanted to leave him waiting at her door.
With a bit of unseemly haste, including a short flight between two windows, Fragrant arrived at her rooms before Max. She paced back and forth for a few minutes, random thoughts running through her head. Was she dressed properly for this? Should she change? She had a fitting due in just an hour, should she cancel it? Behind her, the sun started to rise, shining through the window and spotlighting her. She shivered for a moment. Was that a good omen or not? Did Corona have her eye on her?
There was a knocking on the door and Fragrant jumped. For a moment she wondered who it might be, then she remembered what she was here to do. Her mind was just not working right now.
She walked to the door slowly, trying not to shake. Get a hold of yourself, filly, she chastised. You regularly speak in front of the whole court, you talk to the Princess herself, you can ask a stallion a simple question. But this felt a lot more important than court. Closing her eyes and breathing in and out slowly, she calmed herself before opening the door. Behind it, as expected, was Baron Max.
“Hi,” said Max lamely.
“Good Morning, Max,” said Fragrant politely, before stepping forwards and gently embracing him. Notebook was right; she didn’t do this with anypony else. How hadn’t she noticed that before?
The two of them stepped into her chamber and took a seat. “Um, I’m sorry about the vote, you see Greengrass showed me some papers and they seemed to make sense and he said Fisher had lied and it all seemed to make sense at the time.” He babbled for a moment.
Fragrant sighed. “I’m sure they did, but Greengrass is not to be trusted.”
“Well, he helped you with your necklace...”
“I suspect he just did that to win points with me, and apparently you.”
“Oh, I’m sorry, I should have just done what you said.”
“No, Max!” she said. It came out louder than she’d expected. “I do not want you to follow me blindly, I want you to think for yourself. Greengrass may have been right, no matter how unlikely that seemed. However, you should not just believe what other ponies tell you, you need to check these things yourself. From a reliable source.” She was delaying and she knew it; she would have time to talk to Max about this sort of thing later.
She took another deep breath. This was so very hard. She remembered the pain again, but it had been long ago; she could do this. “Max,” she started. “Are you free in three days? Um, Hearts and Hooves Day.”
“Oh, well, actually I’ll be traveling for most of that day.”
“Good, then...” Wait, that wasn’t what she expected him to say. “Where are you going?” she asked, a touch of panic rising in her voice.
“Larraguible, I think that’s how it’s pronounced, the capital of Palomino.”
“One of Puissance’s provinces? Why are you going there?” Had he somehow managed to annoy the Vicereine as well as Archduke Fisher?
“Baron Fields asked me to escort his daughter to a party there. I think he’s trying to fix me up with her, actually.”
Fragrant felt the blood drain from her face. This could not be happening, not now. “And how... how do you feel about that?” she asked, trying to keep her voice steady. It felt like the ground was falling away from her hooves, like she had just been hit by an unexpected cross wind.
“Well she’s a nice mare, attractive, smart. It’s not like I have anypony else interested, do I.”
Was that a question or a statement? A question or a statement? She had to think. What should she say? “I suppose you are right.” No, that was wrong!
Max seemed to slump a little. “So I thought I’d take a chance and see where things might lead.”
So did I, thought Fragrant, and it led me here, just a few hours too late. I could still ask him, get him to change his mind, but how would that look? Like jealousy.
“Well, I... I am happy for you, I hope things go well for you, she is very... um, very young.” She doesn’t have a hair brush full of grey, she doesn’t have to use beauty that comes from a bottle, she can eat what she wants. No wonder he would want Buttercup before her. He was a stallion; all it took was for a little strumpet to wave her tail in his face and he was off, and she was left alone.
“Anyway, what was it you wanted to talk about?” asked Max.
“I wanted to go over your bill again,” she said. The words came from her mouth, but she didn’t feel anything; she was numb. “But I am feeling a little unwell.”
“Oh, are you alright?” asked Max, sounding alarmed.
“I am sure I will be fine, I... I just need a little time, a quiet day.”
“Well if you’re sure. Do you need anything?”
“Thank you but no. If I do not feel better tomorrow, I will visit one of the castle physicians. Do not worry. I’m sure you need to prepare for your date with Buttercup.”
“It’s not for a few days, but thanks anyway.” He stood. “I hope you feel better tomorrow.”
“I am sure I will. Thank you, Max.”
“Bye,” he called, as he gently closed the door behind him, leaving her alone in her chambers.
Fragrant stood for a moment staring at the closed door; then, with an angry shout, she shoved the chair recently vacated by Max away, watching it fly through the air and topple over.
Baron Fields thought it would be a good idea to try and fix up Max with his bratty daughter, did he? she fumed. The old stallion’s facilities had clearly been decaying for years; he was in no condition to be making decisions like that, let alone ones which affected the whole of Equestria. Maybe a few words should be spoken in the correct ears. There was sure to be some rule to prevent the mentally enfeebled from serving in court; he could be removed from his role. As for Buttercup, well, she could well have been taking advantage of her father, making him vote the way she wanted, making him get what she wanted. Maybe she and her ‘charity’ should be investigated too.
There was a knock at the door. “I told you I wasn’t feeling well, Baron Max,” she cried.
“Duchess,” came an unfamiliar voice from the door. “Your guests are here. But if you are not well, I can take them away.”
Guests? She thought. Oh, the competition winner! She had for several years acted as the sponsor for a young dressmaker’s competition; the prize was to design a number of dresses for her which she would wear to important events, in several cases the Grand Galloping Gala itself. She had forgotten that the winner was due to visit her today to discuss her requirements. She was really in no mood for this, but she couldn’t send the winner away. What was her name? Suri something, Polomane?
Fragrant sighed. “No, I am fine, show them in.” She opened the door to reveal a page standing with two mares, both earth ponies. The front on one had a pink coat and a purple mane, while the other - almost hidden behind the first and the large pile of clothes on her back - was cream with a blue and white mane.
“Thank you, your highness,” said the first with a bow as she entered the room, while her companion almost crept in behind, as if she was trying to avoid attention.
“This way,” said Fragrant curtly, leading her guests to her dressing room.
The pink mare looked a little uncomfortable as her assistant began to hang up the dresses she had brought with her. “It is such an honour to be able to show my work to such an important, not to mention beautiful, pony,” she simpered with a nasal accent. “I’m sure you’ll find something you just love, ‘kay?”
Fragrant almost snorted bitterly at the transparent flattery. If she was beautiful, Max wouldn’t have been swayed by Buttercup, would he?
“Um, excuse me,” muttered the little assistant. “Do you mind if I take your measurements? To make sure everything fits perfectly.”
“If you must,” said Fragrant sourly.
“Um, you’ll need to take off your dress.”
Fragrant paused for a moment. It was a reasonable request, but she always felt uncomfortable and exposed when naked around other ponies. She supposed it was necessary, and with a grunt began to shuck off her clothes.
Picking up on her client’s annoyance, Suri swallowed hard. “Does anything catch your eye?” she asked, as her assistant crept meekly around with a tape measure.
What did she want? Well, Max, but when it came to dresses she didn’t know. She really didn’t want to deal with this now, but the designer had won a competition for the honour of dressing her; she should at least try to be nice. She flicked through the examples on display and was quite impressed despite herself. Her eye caught on a light yellow layered skirt. “I believe that style is quite fashionable at the moment.”
“Ah, an excellent choice, I’m sure you will look stunning. Maybe a different colour, though?” she said, holding a pencil in the corner of her mouth.
“I think black and white would be striking.”
“Of course, any other changes?”
Fragrant examined the dress. It was very regal, very aloof. Was that how other ponies saw her? Distant, cold and so old. She was sure her mother had once worn a dress like that. “Maybe something a little shorter? A more modern style?”
“Of course.” The designer got to work scribbling on a pad. “This?” she suggested, showing her work to the Duchess. The new version came down to somewhere between the pastern and cannon, and showed a little more detail on the bodice.
“No, shorter, more modern.”
“Just what I was thinking,” agreed the designer, looking a little uncomfortable.
The next version stopped just above the hock.
“Shorter, more modern,” she demanded again.
This one above the stifle, cutting around the flank; it would hold her tail up almost vertical and require her wings to be permanently spread.
“Um... don’t you think it might be a bit extreme for a pony of your age?” came a faltering voice from the little cream assistant.
Fire in her eyes, Fragrant turned on the now quivering servant. She had had enough from this little green... she meant cream, earth pony. “What do you mean by that!” she roared. “That I am old! That no stallion would want a hag like me!” The meek pony shied away as if she expected to be slapped.
“Of course not, your highness,” stuttered Suri, looking panicked. “What would she know? She is just my assistant. I’ll make sure she is punished for her presumption, ‘kay.”
Snorting in anger, Fragrant turned back to the picture. With this she would attract attention; she would show Max why he should have picked her rather than that little strumpet Buttercup. With this dress... this dress... which looked like the one the younger pony had been wearing this morning, adapted for use by a harlot. A middle aged mare trying to dress like a filly. She slumped, all anger suddenly draining from her and leaving her feeling so cold and old and lonely. What had she been thinking? Trying to take this out on the Fields, on the little assistant. Shame rose up through her.
“No, your assistant is right.” The off-white pony looked up in shock, as if this was something that never happened. “I was trying to be something I am not. Use your own imagination, I am sure whatever you come up with will be fine. Now please leave me, I have work to do.”
“Of course, your highness,” noted Suri, gathering up her things and loading them onto her assistant. She retreated from the room, bobbing up and down as she went. “It’ll be ready in a few days, ‘kay?”
The little assistant waited for a few more moments. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you. It’s just... just that that dress didn’t suit you.”
“I know, thank you...” she gave a weak smile.
“Coco, Coco Pommel.”
“Thank you Coco.”
Left alone in her room, Fragrant slumped to the ground, her legs folding under her. This was not Max’s fault; she had not expressed her interest in him. Had she thought that a desirable stallion like him would wait around for ever? Neither was it Baron Fields’; he only wanted the best for his daughter and Max would make a good match. Nor even Buttercup; Fragrant couldn’t blame her for doing something she herself had wanted to, and could not build up the nerve for.
Why had Max’s actions made her feel this way, made her almost act so beastly? It wasn’t like she was losing him, yet, he was still her squire, for the moment. But the court would go on holiday in not much more than a month; then he would be his own stallion, and with Buttercup would he ever talk to her again? No more breakfasts together, no more after court chats, no more stories of his early life. Then she would be alone again.
She didn’t have anyone who wasn’t a colleague or a servant, she realised. Wallflower, for all her joviality, was her superior; she could order her around. Fancy Pants and Fleur might act like her friends, but they had their own secrets. Greengrass had pretended to be her friend only to act for his own gain. Would anypony else at court act differently? Notebook was her servant. Only Max seemed to treat her as a true friend, as a normal mare, and now he had somepony else.
Trying to stifle a sob, Fragrant dragged herself to her hooves. She felt too bone-weary to return to her estate; she would spend the day here, then this evening work again. That was all her life was; work, sleep, work, sleep. She had served Equestria and the Princess for almost twenty years and what did she have? Nothing. No friends, no Max.
She slumped onto her bed and felt herself sink into it. It seemed far too large for just her. She laid there in solitude for a long time, waiting for sleep to take her away from her life and her misery.
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4673450 Interesting to know.
Argh, that was a pretty frustrating chapter. I understand intellectually that not everyone can win all of the time, but emotionally that doesn't really help.
Admittedly, it also didn't help that the moment a "dress contest winner" was on the other side of the door my mind went: "Rarity? A romance savvy Rarity who will recognize the problem, and have the perfect dress and plan to help Posey win Max?
Wait, Suri? Suri?? 
"
*anxiously waiting for the chapter that resolves this*
4676900
Oh dear! I think I copied from Stalliongrad for the description although I also have the picture where the original courtiers were drawn up and I know Fisher is wrong there.
If it does turn up wrong then.... he was dying his mane? Or I could just change it.
Despite the clearly romantic attraction between them I think there's also a little something maternal from her side, in a non yucky way.
4677182
Yes it does look a little shady and could be used against him, but I wanted something that Max himself considered to be wrong so that when she castigates the court he'll feel shame rather than confusion.
Ah, I didn't know her room had actually been described at some point, of course she might have several, standard use and Sunday best? I suppose I have a bit of wiggle room with Quarters, it could have a few meanings.
4677290
You know I might consider adding a section with Rarity suddenly struck by the feeling she should be somewhere else but doesn't know where.
Why do I keep seeing Fragrant as an older version of Fluttershy?
Her reactions fit her niece! Also I like to imagine her with the same soft voice like Fluttershy.
4683953
That is largely how I see her as well, as things go on there will be some extra revelations which highlight the similarity between them and how Fragrant tried to help her niece, help which unfortunately didn't work out.
There are also some rumours as to the true relationship between them...
4684120 Do those rumours accuse her as being really Fluttershy's mother? Or her being in an incest relationship with her brother?
4686153
You'll have to wait to see, I'm afraid.
Small typo here, hope you don't mind me pointing it out.
I thought this was a good chapter, even though poor Fragrant didn't get what she wanted. The voting scene was neat, it was cool to see how the voting went around the noble ranks.
I wanna hug Fragrant right now. Also, SO glad Wallflower's an actual character, too. Great integration of Greengrass' Night and the fic Carrot Top Season, too. I am... not too happy with this new wrinkle in the romance, but that's me. Great chapter overall. :D
I know I'm late to the party in finishing this story... and I could probably wait until the end to comment, too, but I can't help feeling angry and sad for Fragrant at the same time. Angry at her envious reaction toward Rolling and Buttercup, and then Suri and Coco... Suri hasn't done anything nasty in this verse yet (although the hints dropped show that certain characteristics are probably multiversal), and poor Coco...
Sad because I've been there... and have thought similarly wicked thoughts about particular potential paramours and the lovers they have spurned me for.
Ha!
My mom does this all the time, although I usually catch it.
Why is it no one remembers the preen gland? I'd like to suggest the following line be added: [Going down on her preen gland slowly straying to...]
10250414
I guess we tend to forget about it because we're mammals. Do bat's have some equivalent?