Chapter 21 - Masks, Part One
The Traveling Tutor and the Royal Exam
Masks - Part One
Seven days before the wedding
There were levels to ostentatiousness in Canterlot that made the social scale somewhat more complicated than a simple numerical value. The less wealthy tended to make vain attempts to appear more wealthy than they really were while the truly wealthy preferred to simply be wealthy, and avoided certain trappings of wealth (such as pools) if they had no real desire to use them (or were unable to swim). This resulted in a certain degree of snubbing among the wealthy peers when they discovered a socially climbing upstart was using generic cream cheese in their hors d'oeuvres, or had employed the second most expensive restoration expert to reconstruct their antique harpsichord, but once an invisible line had been crossed, any snubbing quickly faded out.
That line was Fancy Pants.
Even if the highest of social climbers were to corner Fancy at a party and beg to be told his secret, they never would be able to comprehend the answer despite having already been told it repeatedly at every opportunity. At his level of wealth, it was not the having or the earning that was the most difficult task of his life.
It was the giving.
Like a giant ball of snow rolling down Mount Canter, the financial assets Fancy managed constantly accumulated a growing mass of inertia, and to simply fling a few million bits of that fiscal mass at a deserving charity could destroy a worthy cause faster than anything. Fundraising was a social event, requiring many social occasions and social visits, and of course considerable socializing. To simply give more money than was needed to a cause would drive away other donors and their critical social contacts, leaving the worthy cause stranded and cashless once they had burned through their unexpected windfall. In fact, he had used the same technique through a series of cut-outs and blind drops on a particularly loathsome pegasi supremacy group in Cloudsdale once, resulting in the organization withering away into nothingness within a year and a quiet word of thanks from Princess Celestia several months later.
The whirlwind romance pairing him with the fashion model Fleur de Lis had been the talk of Equestria in a quite literal fashion. A simple monogrammed kerchief appeared in Fancy’s vest pocket and ten thousand kerchiefs sold out in the next day. A visit to a morning cafe with Fleur for baguettes and no bakery in the country could keep up with demand. He had once remarked that if they spent a romantic night out looking at the stars, Celestia would have been besieged with requests to keep the moon in the sky all the time, a comment that seemed much less humorous when Princess Luna returned. A wedding in the Haymen Islands, a three month world tour, and when the couple returned to Canterlot, it was as if they had always been together despite the gap in their ages. There had always been rumors of some infant furniture purchases during their visits and appearances around the country, but nothing had ever been proven, although Twilight was beginning to wonder as she stood in the giant mansion and chatted with the healthy model, who was dipping into an early plate of appetizers with just as much enthusiasm as her pregnant princess conversational partner.
The costume ball was supposed to start in a little over an hour, but no proper Canterlot Royal would be caught dead showing up on time, which is why Green Grass had been so insistent about the both of them showing up early. Fleur had decided on a sexy maid outfit that was just a small fraction of cloth from being obscene and which — upon close examination and several discreet questions — would never have fit Twilight anyway. Fancy Pants had decided on the outfit of a judge from a few centuries ago, with tall white wig and a respectable-sized gavel. Both Crosswind and Papercut were preparing to slip away for the rather less formal servants’ party a few mansions away, and Twilight was trying to figure out just how much credulence her future husband deserved in his explanation.
“Honestly, Dear. I wouldn’t have worn the tiara to the costume party or the wedding.” Green Grass rolled his eyes and tried to adjust the tall formal hat which kept trying to slide off his head. They had found the antique military uniform of a great-great-uncle in the Chrysanthemum House attic, and although he had been rather easily convinced to leave the awkward sword that went with the outfit behind, the tall ornate hat with the frilly trim had woven a spell of entrancement into the goofy stallion far beyond what she had expected.
“Quite true,” said Papercut in a droll tone while standing to one side and trying to adjust his ‘owner’s’ somewhat mothball-scented uniform jacket. “I believe he would have worn it to the party and the wedding. Sir, please allow me to put a stiction spell on your hat or it will just slide off. There’s no horn to anchor it to.”
“It’s not meant for a horn,” countered Green Grass, taking the hat off and pointing at the hollow interior. While the two of them fiddled with the hat, Twilight took a few moments to step away and look around the busy ballroom for her friends. Both Pinkie Pie and Applejack had yielded to the siren song of manual labor, and were helping the servants with the party setup despite frequent requests otherwise, and even Fluttershy was fluttering around the ceiling at Rarity’s direction where the fashionista had spotted a flaw in one of the constellations of glittering pseudo-stars and was busy making it ‘Princess Perfect.’ Rainbow Dash and Spike were acting as food inspectors and generally getting in the way, but as long as this did not turn into another Grand Galloping Gala, Twilight didn’t mind if they both stuffed themselves as full as the pinata Pinkie Pie had stashed for the After-Wedding Party.
House Twinkle had never actually thrown a costume ball, due to the small size of their ballroom (which would have been Twilight Velvet’s dining room with the tables and chairs moved out of the way), and most of the costume balls she had attended with Princess Celestia had seemed a little like peacock judging contests, with the most impractical outfits and the stuffiest of nobles stuffed into them. Inevitably, there were alicorns, acres and acres worth of false horns and fabric wings, sometimes both, of every possible size and variety, ranging from the small token horn nubs or half-dozen feathers on the back of a ballgown up to… excessive. Occasionally wildly excessive, although thankfully the breezie antenna and insectile wings popular a few years ago for mares had fallen out of fashion, or Green Grass might have even wandered in that direction for his costume tonight. Even if it most probably would have threatened the masculinity of even the most red-blooded stallion, somehow she could not shake the possibility of him making it work and restarting the trend.
Thankfully, none of her friends had gone the alicorn or the breezie route tonight. Spike had decided on his best suit, because a dragon in a suit was as unique as possible in Canterlot, while Rainbow Dash had dug her Shadowbolt costume out again, much to Rarity’s chagrin. Applejack had the cutest stereotypical apple seller outfit complete with (of course) apples to give out to anypony who asked, and to Twilight’s great relief, free. Pinkie Pie was dressed as… Pinkie Pie, or so it seemed, and Fluttershy was resplendent in forest green leaves and yellow silk flowers, looking almost exactly like a beautiful hedge, and Twilight suspected she was able to vanish into the background flower arrangements by simply holding still and pretending to be one. Although Rarity had avoided adding wings to her own creamy silk gown, she had added a replica of Princess Platinum’s crown, and Twilight suspected she would have a dragon servant attending to Her Majesty as soon as the music began to play.
“Your Highness… I mean Twilight,” said Crosswind once Fleur had excused herself and departed to the buffet table for a refill, “if you do not need me any further this evening, I’ll just be off to the secondary festivities before the guests begin to arrive.”
Her appointment secretary was actually wearing lipstick this evening, along with an abbreviated dress just barely covering her cutie mark as well as the twinkle of sparkly dancing shoes on her petite pegasus hooves. Twilight tried not to shake her head or smile, but just nodded assent. “Go ahead. Have fun on your date.”
“Date?” The young pegasus held a hoof to her chest and blinked rapidly. “It’s not a date. Papercut is just escorting me to the party since we’re both starting out at the same place and winding up at the same place. It’s only natural. It’s proper. It’s… efficient. It’s… You’re not buying it, are you?”
“I’m not even renting it,” said Twilight with a knowing sigh. “What, did you think I was going to object or make fun of you dating a handsome young stallion like Papercut? Why, you must have so many things in common with him, like…” She paused, groping frantically for a word, or even a category of words.
“Calendars,” said Crosswind with a sour twist to her lips. “I mean he’s clever, witty, sensitive and kind, but he’s an over-organized twit. Why, he even sorts his quills by purchase date.”
“Who doesn’t? I mean it’s the only sensible way to make sure—”
“What I’m trying to say, Princess Twilight, is that he’s… I don’t know. He confuses me.”
Twilight did not even try to restrain her snort of amusement. “Dad says that’s dangerous. Next thing you know, you’re going to wind up standing beside him with a ring on your horn. Wing.”
Crosswind… squirmed is the only word that made sense for her erratic motions. Rainbow Dash was the expert in pegasus wing signals, and the uncomfortable twitches across her secretary’s feathery appendages triggered a ripple down her flanks, ending in one rear hoof stomping into the hardwood floor. Careful of her costume, Twilight extended one dark indigo wing across Crosswind’s back and gave a gentle squeeze, much as Princess Celestia used to do when she was having stress issues. “I just don’t know, Ma’am,” said Crosswind, somewhat muffled by the wing. “He’s just so—”
* ♥ *
“—unoriginal and boring, sir, while she’s so vibrant and spontaneous.” Papercut paused while straightening up a rather stubborn wrinkle on Green Grass’ collar. “I’m just not used to thinking in that particular fashion. Did you know when we both went out for lunch a few days ago, she didn’t even make reservations first?”
“Shocking,” gasped Green Grass, trying to get a hoof to his neck. “See if you can find a little slack or you’ll strangle me.”
“No great loss, sir.” A little tugging allowed the young groom to take a deep breath and Papercut shifted his attention to a rumpled pocket instead, once the threat of suffocation had been averted. “I’ve tried to tell her I’m interested, but every time I open my mouth around her, the most amazing of foolish things emerge. I actually invited her up to my apartment to look at my etchings, sir. And I don’t even have etchings!”
“Never too late to pick some up, Papercut. Why don’t you take her shopping for a few?”
The servant twisted his face into a grimace while tightening the thread on a few loose buttons. “I have no idea why I thought discussing my personal issues with you was a good idea. You have no sense of tact.”
“Well, if you can hold on for a moment, you can ask an expert in tactlessness.” Green Grass brightened as a tall stallion trotted across the floor, his snow-white mane billowing in soft waves down the back of his neck. The stallion had thrown a great deal of tradition to one side for his costume tonight, with a pair of realistic bat-wings on his sides and a spell to turn his eyes into golden spheres with split pupils, just like a Nocturne, except with a dark unicorn horn and a sly grin that he had never seen on any of the Night Guard before. He swept up to greet Green Grass with a coy smile and waggled eyebrow as he glanced across the ballroom in the direction of Twilight and whispered, “Who’s—”
* ♥ *
“—that, Princess Twilight,” whispered Crosswind, peeking out from under Twilight’s thick wing. “He’s gorgeous.”
“Runs in the family,” said Twilight, fighting a smirk. “I’m surprised you didn’t recognize him. It’s my future brother-in-law, Graphite, with the most amazing Nocturne alicorn costume. If you think Greenie is an expert at snark, you’re going to hate him with a passion. Oh, look. He’s coming this way. How’s my mane? Did I get the stars right?” She ran one dark hoof through her ethereal mane, watching as the sparkles of tiny stars flared and glittered in response. “I wanted to make them as accurate as possible, but they keep flowing around. I didn’t know that when I picked—”
* ♥ *
“—Princess Luna for a costume?” whispered Green Grass’ brother as they walked over to the two mares. “Impressive, Greenie. She even has the wing proportions correct.”
“Well, you’re the expert,” Green Grass whispered back, trying mightily to fight back a grin when Graphite swept into an elegant bow, holding one hoof across his chest as he lowered his head almost to the ground and lifted it up with a salacious grin at ‘Princess Luna.’
“Oh, most radiant Princess of the Night. Thy perfect countenance hath blinded this poor wretch to all others but thy own. I beg of you, allow me to plight my troth for a love which shall burn within my mortal chest until my last breath of life. A single moment in your presence shall be as an eternity, and all that I ask is for your hoof in wedded matrimony, for as long as I might live by your side.”
“Thou art most droll,” said Twilight, raising an eyebrow while catching Green Grass’ subdued smirk and nod. “Thy Princess of the Night shall consider thy proposal as valid upon one condition.”
Pursing his lips, Graphite leaned forward. “For a kiss, your wish shall be my command, oh — Oh, please tell me you’re really Twilight Sparkle and not Luna, or I am so screwed.”
Giggles overcame her. “Yes, I’m Twilight. I take it the costume meets with your approval? Oh, and this is my appointment secretary, Miss Crosswind.” She lifted her concealing wing, and Graphite’s face lit up with joy, an expression Twilight was almost certain was automatic whenever faced by the opposite gender of whatever species. He bowed before the blushing pegasus, somehow managing to get Crosswind to lift a hoof to be kissed as he swept into a second proposal.
“We meet again, oh, most beautiful mare. I have been terribly deceived, for until this moment, I considered your Princess to be the fairest in the land, and now I must confess her beauty, although great, does but hold but a weak candle to thy radiant countenance, which only grows in beauty during the time we spend apart. I beg of you, come to my side so that we might never again be depraved of each other’s presence.”
The giggling overcoming Twilight must have been contagious, because Crosswind could not even respond, and was in danger of falling over since she was only standing on three unsteady hooves. On the other side of the suave stallion, Papercut could not have been stiffer if he had been stuffed and mounted on the wall. Taking mercy on their mischievous appointment secretaries, and feeling a little mischievous herself, Twilight smacked Crosswind on the rump with one wingtip, making her almost jump out of her dancing shoes.
“It’s ‘deprived,’ not ‘depraved,’ good Prince of the Night. And she’s taken. Go on, Crosswind. Have fun at your party with Papercut, and try not to stay up too late. We have an early morning scheduled tomorrow. Only a little over seven days left.”
She watched with a grin as the two of them turned to start off, only for them to stop as Green Grass called out, “Miss Crosswind. Papercut is too timid to say it, but he likes you. And Papercut? Miss Crosswind is too afraid to say it, but she likes you too. For heaven’s sake, talk to each other, not just make pegasus wing signs and unicorn mind games. Think like earth ponies, or you’ll still be making eyes at each other when our foal gets married. Now shoo. Have fun at the party.”
“That was cruel, brother-of-mine,” said Graphite once the mismatched and somewhat irritated couple had vanished out the door.
“It was my earth pony heritage coming through,” responded Green Grass. “Cross-cultural barriers make the process far too complicated. Pegasi view love as a contact sport, and unicorns just have this bizarre dance of innuendo and suggestion that drives me crazy. Does she like me enough to sleep with me? Or does she just want to borrow a pen? Mares are hard enough to understand by themselves.”
“For good reason,” stated Twilight Sparkle emphatically.
“Not you, dear,” protested Green Grass with a soft nuzzle up her neck. “You’re carefully sorted and indexed, with the most amazing table of contents.”
“Greenie!” she chided, looking around at the scattering of ponies in the ballroom who had arrived early to the festivities and several of which were most definitely not-looking in their direction while attempting to stifle a laugh. “I’m supposed to be acting like Luna.”
“Princess Luna enjoys stargazing as much as I do, with the appropriate company,” he whispered, brushing up against the fine hairs on her neck in a way that gave the ethereal star illusion of her mane the twitch and sparkle of distant supernovas. “I just prefer viewing heavenly bodies at a much closer range.”
Rolling her eyes at the antics of her silly fiancé, she tried to ignore the somewhat conflicted look on Graphite’s face at the sight of his brother performing a Public Display of Affection on ‘Princess Luna.’ Although Greenie had been totally recalcitrant about giving out any details of his brother’s royal romantic interest, and had not confirmed the identity of Princess Luna’s private preener even while being tickled into incoherence, Twilight had a pretty good idea how to connect those two logical threads. However, she had never actually gotten up the nerve to ask Princess Luna, partially from the worry that she would wish to compare notes the way Princess Cadence had.
After getting Green Grass to act his age and his brother to stop encouraging him, Twilight tried to relax a little while watching the early arrivals spread out in the huge room, which had been broken down into smaller sections by a series of low green ‘hedges’ and broad ‘trees’ with lanterns in their artificial branches to simulate the look of the eventual wedding location.
Seven days, twenty minutes and seventeen seconds until we’re married. Only a hair over seven days. I really should thank Princess Celestia’s meddlesome appointment secretaries. They’ve kept me so busy that I haven’t had time to panic. Could she have sent them to us for that particular reason? Greenie always says Princess Celestia is a better teacher than he ever could be, and that she can make ponies learn the hardest lessons by just letting them do what they want to do. Could she have been teaching a lesson to all four of us at once?
She was so distracted by the idea that it took Greenie elbowing her sharply to get her attention as his parents began to walk across the floor in their direction. Only for a moment did she think about their first visit in the library over a year ago, and a sense of shame bubbled up inside as she realized that this was actually only the second time she had ever met Lady Spring Fresh, the mother of the stallion she was about to wed.
There was a certain angularity to the middle-aged mare which made Twilight think of the sharp prow on an icebreaker, a thinness around the cheeks and a near point to her nose only emphasized by the gem-encrusted pair of red glasses perched on said slender appendage and damping her sharp gaze not one bit. In fact, there was just a small hint of Griffon in her general appearance and demeanor that Twilight had not really noticed before, which may have explained how Baron Chrysanthemum, who had a long and quite profitable trading arrangement with the Griffon Empire, had been attracted to her in the first place.
The rose-hued silk dress sweeping down her back and the glittering golden manebows holding back her thinning violet mane and tail had to be imported from the Griffon Empire. They acted as a sort of advertisement for the family business, and must have cost a fortune, even discounting the delicate Equestrian butterfly wings extending just partially over her back, shimmering from rose to violet in an insectile iridescence. With a sharp click of pristine dancing shoes, she stopped in front of Twilight Sparkle and cocked her head to one side while examining Twilight’s face.
“Luna wears less eyeshadow,” she sniffed, turning to her son. “Green Grass, where is the tiara I had stored in the attic?”
As Green Grass spluttered, caught off guard by the question, Twilight could not help but see his father trying to conceal a smile. Spring’s tail was twitching in almost exactly the same way Greenie’s would twitch when he was upset, although she had the aura of calm control down much better than her future hubby.
“Lady Spring Fresh,” she interrupted, getting a brief glare from her future mother-in-law and a relieved look from Greenie, “we just borrowed it for the afternoon, and we’ll be happy to bring it back tomorrow.”
“You had no right to take it,” she snapped, pausing momentarily afterwards as if to think about whom she was being short with. “I mean, it’s one of Green Grass’ gifts to me during his foalhood, Your Highness.”
“Were you planning on wearing it this evening, Mom?” If Twilight had not known Greenie’s twisted sense of humor as much as she did, she could have almost thought he was being serious, but before the expected cutting response from his mother, he added, “By the way, I was meaning to ask. Why are there so many of my crafts projects tucked away and almost none of my siblings? I mean, Regal always used to make you the most beautiful things in school. Didn’t you keep any of them?”
“Hi, Greenie! Hi, Mom and Dad.” His little sister, Frost, bounded into the family discussion and gave Lady Spring Fresh a desperately needed moment to think.
“Hi, Snowball.” Greenie ruffled the white fleece snowpony outfit that his already blueish-white sister was wearing and made a half-hearted bite at her carrot nose. “You cold in there, sis?”
“Naa,” she scoffed. “Hot, actually. Hello, Princess Twilight,” she added with a smile.
“Unfair,” said Green Grass. “Did you cheat?”
Frost gave her brother a very chilly look, which matched her snowpony costume perfectly. “You were nuzzling on her neck, and you’re not presently sitting on the moon. She’s Twilight.”
“Smart kid,” agreed Twilight Sparkle. “Could you slip over to the buffet table and grab your Princess of the Night Light a cold apple juice?” She watched the teenaged snowpony bounce merrily on her way with a ragged top hat dangling by a string to keep it from falling off before turning back to Green Grass.
“Greenie, dear. Don’t put your mother on the spot in public.”
For a second it looked like Green Grass was going to protest, but he eventually huffed out a short breath and lowered his head. “Sorry, Mom. It’s just that Dad and I were going through the chest you kept all our old school stuff in, and I didn’t see anything from the rest of us kids.”
“You did not look hard enough,” sniffed Spring. “If you had searched, you would have found a beautiful necklace Regal made me out of glass beads, and several sheets of Graphite’s poetry, such as it were.”
Lady Spring Fresh took a brief glance at where Graphite and Frost were talking by the buffet table, a number of glasses of apple juice floating in their mutual magical fields. Spring seemed to be struggling with some words, eventually turning to Twilight as if her son was not even there. “Frost made me a beautiful music box with a dancing ballerina on it for one of her magic courses. I could never do the spells she’s doing now in school, and Greenie could never do spells at all. I worry about her somewhat, but I have always worried about him, between being so sickly when he was a foal and the way he acted around his peer group.” Twilight managed to get a cautionary hoof across Green Grass’ face before he could interrupt his mother’s brief lowering of her guard. Spring looked away and swallowed. “I just wanted some things to remember him by when he was gone. I always knew he would go away some time. The house seems so empty now. We thought getting him a wife would at least keep him in Canterlot, where we could visit, and he would be safe, but Princess Celestia told us…”
A relative silence stretched between the two mares, with an uncomfortable Baron Chrysanthemum obviously unwilling to fill it and Green Grass far too willing. She kept her hoof firmly in place and addressed her future mother-in-law as much as she would her own mother as possible. “Did she give you the story about the baby bird leaving the nest?” A sharp twitch traveling down Spring’s yellow hide gave the affirmative. “He will be safe, Mom. I won’t let him fall, but you have to let him fly. If you hold onto him as tightly as you want, you’ll lose him forever. You have to let go to keep him. I learned that lesson the hard way.”
Green Grass managed to get his lips out from behind Twilight’s restraining hoof and whispered, “When was that, dear?”
“At the train station, when you took off for your next teaching assignment,” she whispered back. “Try to pay attention, dear.”
“You followed me,” he whispered. “Took two days for you to go back to Ponyville.”
“I’m trying to make a point, dear.”
“Actually, my son does have a point, Your Highness,” said Spring with the exact same lemon-biting expression her son used when he could not evade or divert an uncomfortable question. “It is very difficult to give the ones we love the freedom to not love you back. I…” Spring paused before turning on her heel and stalking away towards the other side of the ballroom and a few early-arrivers who were quietly discussing something among their small group.
With a practiced sigh, Green Grass’ father turned to follow. “I’ll go calm her down, Your Highness… I mean Twilight,” he corrected at the matching brief frowns from the Royal Couple. “Things have been a little stressful between us for the last few years, and I’m afraid the wedding is only making things worse.”
“Wait.” It took a little effort to avoid grabbing Baron Chrysanthemum by the tail with her magic as she had become accustomed to doing with Green Grass, but he stopped anyway and turned to await instructions, much like his son. “I’ll go talk with her.”
* ♥ *
Despite the various ‘trees’ and ‘hedges’ breaking the ballroom down into several areas, Green Grass’ mother was easier to track down than Twilight had anticipated. The little directional signs around the area saying things like “She went this way, Twilight” and “Turn right, Twilight” were a great help, as any pony who was trying to hide in the vicinity of Pinkie Pie was doomed to certain exposure. She stopped at a sign reading “Behind this pillar, Twilight” and took a breath to brace her confidence, but as she approached her future mother-in-law behind the shadow of a supporting pillar of the ballroom stage, she could not help but think about how the bright yellow unicorn had a look of mourning about her matching the expression on young Twilight Sparkle the day before Lieutenant Shining Armor had departed for his tour of duty in Cloudsdale and an anticipated year absence from his LSBFF. Twilight stopped, the two glasses of non-alcoholic cider suspended in her magical field sloshing only slightly before she quietly cleared her throat and asked, “Would you like a drink, Lady Spring?”
“Yeah,” the older unicorn drawled, in almost exactly the same way her son sounded when he was having a depressing day, but with a somewhat different request. “Scotch on the rocks, hold the rocks.”
Despite a lump of reluctance filling her belly with lead butterflies, Twilight took a step forward to stand directly in front of her future mother-in-law and asked, “Are you certain? Because I will, if you want.”
At Spring’s sharp nod, Twilight turned slightly and addressed the darkness behind the ballroom stage. “Corporal Meadows, I believe? Will you please go inform the staff that we would like to have a double-shot of scotch delivered to my conference here, and then please give us a few minutes of privacy.” Twilight and Spring waited silently while the darkness became slightly less populated, and within moments, a middle-aged mare in a server outfit trotted over with a filled glass tumbler held in her soft green magic.
“Your beverage, Madam,” said the server with a nod as she floated the glass over to Spring.
“Thank you, Specialist Grace,” said Twilight. “Can you ensure we are not disturbed for a few minutes?”
Without a single displayed bit of annoyance at her disguise being penetrated so easily, Specialist Grace of the Night Guard (on assignment) turned to grace Princess Sparkle with a discouraging expression. “Her Highness specifically requested for you to be available when she makes her entrance.” After a few moments of Twilight Sparkle’s most insistent look in response, the disguised guard yielded somewhat by raising one hoof to her earring and whispering, “Top, this is Iceberg. Egghead is requesting an ETA for Moon Cheeks and Sunburn.” After a short time, Grace looked up. “Please be ready in about an hour, Ma’am. I’ll keep you updated if anything changes.”
“Thank you, Specialist Grace. That will be all.”
Spring still gave every indication of wanting to remain in her sulk, but it was obvious a question was ricocheting around inside her head from the little twitches she developed around the cheeks, much the same reaction as her son displayed to unanswered questions, and Twilight sat quietly and sipped her own cider until the question managed to inevitably escape.
“Moon Cheeks?” Lady Spring obviously did not know if she should be insulted or amused, and settled for the constipated look that most Royals got when faced with something they did not agree with, but were too ‘well-mannered’ to verbally protest.
“It’s a handle,” explained Twilight. “The Royal Guard use them for all of their personnel protection subjects. Your son is Lucky,” she added.
“He most certainly is,” agreed Spring, taking a sip. “When I found out you and he were dating… I couldn’t believe it at first. I don’t think we had exchanged a dozen words in the year before you two met. He would always sulk and get snappy whenever I would suggest some improvement to his behavior or a career opportunity. It only got worse in college. I could scarcely hold my horn up in proper company, what with his abysmal grades and outrageous behavior. We were at our wit’s end, and thought we would never find a proper mate for him anywhere.” She took a deeper drink from her scotch. “Although I think the last mare we tried to wed him with may have been somewhat incompatible.”
Don’t say it. Don’t scream it. Don’t yell at your mother-in-law. There’s only an hour before Princess Celestia shows up, and that’s not enough time to calm down and cover up any evidence. Just breathe in, and breathe out. Try to look at the situation from her point of view. Without sticking your head up your plot. And say something positive!
“I agree,” said Twilight Sparkle, taking a sip of her own decidedly non-alcoholic beverage and trying not to worry about stress hormones affecting the foal.
“We really appreciate what you’re doing for our son, Princess Twilight. I just feel guilty at pawning off our problem child onto you.” Lady Spring Fresh took a deeper drink from her scotch and avoided eye contact. “He can be so difficult. Much like his father,” she added with a wince.
Don’t let her say those things! Stand up for Greenie. He’s your fiancé and father of your unborn child.
But if I stand up for him, his mother will get defensive and quit talking. Remember the saying, What Would Princess Celestia Do. You’re disguised as Luna, so try to act more like her.
Twilight settled for making a noncommitted noise in the back of her throat and just the slightest slurp when she took another sip of cider, which prompted Spring to continue.
“Was it uncomfortable?” At Twilight’s rather puzzled look, Spring added, “Making the foal. Our first was rather nice, but over the years, the process became a burden. With Frost, all I could do is lay back and think of Equestria.”
“You’re kidding.” The words just burst out of Twilight’s mouth, quickly followed by, “I mean, really? Thank the stars the Observatory has thick walls, or we would have woke up half the castle. As it is, we knocked over the star chart cabinet and kicked the telescope out of alignment! I think there may still be hoofprints on them. I had never felt so much pleasure in my life as that night. I could barely talk or walk afterwards, and it’s even better now, but not quite as loud because we don’t want to wake up Spike in the next room, even with a sound-damping spell. Please don’t tell me you don’t enjoy sex with your husband any more; that’s just awful!”
Shock caused Spring’s jaw to hang open and her half-full glass of scotch to wobble in her magical field, but even more impressive was the reaction of Specialist Grace, who had returned to Twilight with the obvious intent of relaying an update to the Royal Sisters’ schedule. Standing less than a yard away, the jade-green unicorn mare had turned a rather bright shade of pink around the face and was frozen with her jaw hanging open and both eyes somewhat glazed, but what really drew a chill down Twilight’s back was the hoof resting on the activation section of the communications crystal hanging from her ear. It was dead silent around the three mares except for an announcement going on at the entrance which had just come to an abrupt stop, but Twilight could pick out the entire security detail inside the ballroom by the pop-eyed and stunned expressions on their faces, every one of which was turned in her direction for one brief embarrassing moment.
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Posting this set of three this week in the evening because they're set in the evening. Only one week left until the wedding (well, story time). Oh, and history on the Commoner's Ball. It's held one week before the Summer Sun Festival so all the servants in the castle have a chance to cut loose before the big event.
P.S. Notice the spelling of fiancé. I fixed it for a change. You're welcome.
Open mouth, insert hoof.
Good Game Twilight LOL, well she won't ever live this down
I love Pinkie Pie's costume. Is she going for the ridiculous suit from the comics, or is the only thing even more unique than a dragon in suit just going unadorned? The return of the Guard codenames is also a delight.
On a more serious note, Spring Fresh is certainly an interesting character once she drops her defenses. That's the thing; no one's obnoxious for its own sake. (at least, not unless the Internet is involved.) She genuinely was trying to help Green Grass. She just completely failed to understand him. And now, a week before his wedding, she may love her son, but she still doesn't know him. It's honestly kind of sad.
Twilight, flawless gawkery. Quite possible a faintality if Spring Fresh is any indicator.
Been waiting all day for this. That was awesome.
5892238 just security via Grace's transmitter.
I love how she explained to her fiance's own mother of how good sex she had and is having rofl.
Ooooh, I think I hurt myself
! Ohmygosh, way to go Twilight! 
And thus was Twilight Sparkle the Second pony of her generation to do a Sonic Rainboom as she tried to banish herself to the moon. My sides hurt from laughing.
I liked this chapter, especially the last paragraphs. The return of the codenames is great, what are the names for the other Elements of Harmony?????
5892954
She had chosen a wrong princess. She should've dressed up like Cadence instead.
Twilight, I'm going to tell you something here that you should have already known but, I suppose, I can forgive you not knowing with your abnormal upbringing: It is considered bad form to discuss your sex life with your future mother-in-law. Even if she brought up the subject.
FWIW, I suspect that Spring Fresh is trying to avoid talking about something by babbling nonsense that she doesn't really think or believe to be true. That's the real 'mask' here, I think. I wonder what's behind it?
BTW - If Luna really is having an affair with Graphite, he strikes me as the sort of stallion who would never be so unsophisticated and caddish as to say anything about it or even hint anything about it.
So much is going so wrong with that conversation with Twilight's future mother-in-law. At least the party guest themselves didn't hear. Just goes to teach you, never reign in what you are wanting to say even if it is bad because you will go way too far with the first thing that manages to slip past your wall.
Thank goodness for Greengrass and his earth pony sensibility.
Now that just seems highly likely.
Dang, this conversation with Lady Spring could be going better.
Thank goodness for Pinkie Pie and her earth pony nonsensibility. (Is that a word? It should be a word.)
Wow, it continues to go poorly.
So much for thick walls and a sound-proofing spell. Ehh, in Twilight's position the guard is going to know a lot about her life anyway, this is just a little full disclosure to break the ice. And melt it. And superheat the water.
5891893
You've still got 'discrete' and 'discreet' confused, though
5891893
About time
Lemme guess. So rich he's at a point where he can stop caring about looking rich?
Funding extremists so they can no longer play the penniless pity card ever again? Damn. Brilliant
Nightmare Moon would've loved that request, though
When Green Grass sees stuck-up feathers, he has this innate urge to ruffle them, it seems
Together
Ridiculously large hat? Awww yeah!
"Food inspectors". right
Yeeeah... once dragons reach a certain size, it starts costing a fortune in fabric
Say no more
Hah!
Wouldn't be too sure, in his case
Hah!
That was so horribly corny
And probably to a couple of the people only tangentially involved as well. She's that good
Code names are supposed to make sure people overhearing you don't know who you're talking about. They are specifically not meant to make fun of your superiors
(then again, Luna may have come up with those)
...slap her. Fricking slap her, dammit, and be sure to make very clear you're not doing anything "for him" at all, but for the both of you
...I think she just forgot this wasn't Cadance she was talking to but her future mother-in-law
Then again, Spring Fresh started talking about her sex life. She was asking for this one
Ohhh dear. Everyone heard that
Remarks and corrections:
> in their hor d'oeuvres
"their [hors] d'oeuvres"
> which may have explained how Baron Chrysanthemum, who had a long and quite profitable trading arrangement with the Griffon Empire, was attracted to her in the first place.
Shouldn't that be "[had been] attracted to her"?
5894262
Interesting! I didn't know that one; I assumed they were just alternate spellings of the same thing.
I can't believe how hard I just laughed at the last scene there
Oh my gosh, I was laughing so hard I was afraid one of my family members was going to come in wondering if I was crying! Oh man, I needed that laugh 
Thank you so much for writing this 
I honestly hope there is a culture out there in Equestria that has a tradition kind of like the guys from Girl Genius where the guy with the Biggest and Most Impressive Hat is the one in charge.
They could walk into the room and instantly assume that Greenie was the Emperor of the world from his impressive headpiece.
5894607 Picky, picky people. Fixed, fixed, and only the guards heard that. And they know what she can do, so they're not going to talk. Much. Except to other guards. And maybe spouses...
5894262 Darnit, that's back in Chapter 20 and this chapter. (Fixed, and for everbody else's reference:)
Discrete: individually separate and distinct. Discreet : careful and circumspect in one's speech or actions, especially in order to avoid causing offense or to gain an advantage. Because English not only steals words from other languages, sometimes it stalks other languages down dark alleys, hits them over the head, and goes through their pockets for loose grammar. (parapharase of Prattchet)
5893325 "She had chosen a wrong princess. She should've dressed up like Cadence instead."
Um. Dress like her former fillysitter who is married to her brother. Yeah. That wouldn't be awkward. Not one bit.
5893553 Scotch makes a far better social lubricant than WD40. Apparantly Spring is only a little rusty (sorry for the pun) according to the next chapter.
5892126 Of course Lady Spring knows her son. He's a delicate flower who needs protected from all the dangerous things in life, who is marrying a princess who regularly fights these same dangerous things. She only wants to make sure he's going to be protected. And she's going to be a grandmother, which is still freaking her out a little. With a princess for a daughter-in-law. Her carefully built little world is coming apart at the seams, and what she really needs now more than anything is love. Wait for the next chapter.
Heh, the last scene probably makes this the best chapter yet. Maybe even the best chapter in all of your stories.
6016142 I still think this chapter with Scootaloo is the best chapter and characterization pieces I've ever written. That, and Diamond Tiara Buys a Little Sister for the little pink menace.
Might want to use lite instead of light. It's the informal spelling and therefor slightly OOC but arguably she'd go for it avoid possible confusion with her father's name.
...I'm probably over thinking this.
Good job Grace!
It's the little touches that hit hardest.
As Specialist Grace has just shown us all once again.
Shining Armor: *makes shield less opaque* "Has the debris stopped falling yet?"
Specialist Grace: *materializes out of a potted plant's shadow* "Not yet sir."
SA: "Terribly sorry about this Fancy."
Fancy Pants: "Oh, don't worry. We were planning on remodeling that place anyway."