Diary of an Aspiring Tyrant

by SugarPesticide

Entry Forty-Six

November 2, 1000 ANM

At lunch this morning — for I slept straight through breakfast, thanks to the antics of Nightmare Night — Sister Dearest confronted me about my absence, using her usual tactics.

“I’ll admit, I was a bit worried when you left the palace so suddenly. I’m still feeling the effects of the surprise.” She appeared entirely unruffled, with her countenance boasting its usual expression of serene near-amusement. “Where did you rush off to?”

“Ponyville,” I said in between mouthfuls of alfalfa. “It seemed prudent to come to such a place like a thief in the night, particularly when I had last appeared among them as a shadow of my true self.”

She nodded. “That’s very fitting.”

“There were some difficulties here and there, but on the whole I think the event was a success. It was no small feat for Twilight Sparkle to convince me to dramatically reverse the cancellation of Nightmare Night.”

“I’m glad she was …” She blinked. “Wait, cancellation?”

“It matters not,” I assured her. “‘Twas an edict full of sound and fury, signifying nothing. I had disliked the idea of Nightmare Night before, but it appears it can be an enjoyable experience to feel fear … to feel love.”

“I’m glad it went well,” she said, smiling briefly. “And I really would like to apologize for this whole matter—”

“Celestia, we have discussed this already. Truly, the whole idea of the event no longer perturbs me. I am in fact glad to have the opportunity to speak with the common pony.”

She said nothing, instead nuzzling me.

After lunch I made my way to Blueblood’s chambers. He was in the midst of some horrible book, which I was quick to snatch from his grasp.

“Really, Mother!” he protested. “Can’t you at least tolerate the things I read?”

“If I did, I would not be a suitable mother,” I replied, looking over the offending novel. “What is this … Dusk’s Apple? What is this supposed to be about, anyway?”

“It’s supposed to be paranormal romance,” he said. “But it’s more about a morally skewed creature who seeks total control over the one pony he can’t read. Really, it’s a fascinating delve into the nature of evil.”

I flipped through its pages. “It receives my seal of disapproval. Clearly the author assumed this protagonist was a perfect paragon of ponykind, though this is clearly not the case.”

“Actually, he thinks ponies are scum. But you’re quite right. It’s still an interesting look at the nature of perception.”

“This appears to be written for teenage fillies.”

“Really, the intended audience adds another layer to the twisted madness. It’s quite an intriguing study regarding the nature of—”

“I cannot fathom your defense for this nonsense.”

“Haven’t you ever heard of a guilty pleasure?”

I stared at him. “We need to discuss your interests.”

“Hm? Oh, not like that … it’s more a matter of liking works that, on an objective level, you know you shouldn’t like. It’s hardly limited to myself, incidentally. This book is quite the rage among eligible bachelors in Canterlot.”

“In that case, I suppose I cannot stop some ponies from equating literary merit with popularity. But I did not come here to discuss such nonsense. I wish to apologize for so suddenly departing our spirited game on Nightmare Night.”

“Oh, is that all?” He pulled the book back. “It’s quite all right. Sometimes it can be a drag to win so easily. I still can’t understand how we managed to have a match that ended with pieces of five colors.”

“Did I not promise you that I would not hold back in my glorious quest for losing?”

“And yet you still caught me off guard time after time. Truly you are a mare of many surprises.”

We chatted on about such things, enjoying a moment of simple mother-son time. Afterward I sought for my little changelings, wondering what mischief they were up to now. In particular, I considered who might be Chrysalis’s spy. Even trapped in the Dreamscape as she is, she manages to be a pest.

Aranea was in the library. As she was disguised as a humble stallion, I did not even realize it was her until she offered me a greeting without looking up from her book; as she is incapable of changing her voice, it was a simple matter to identify her. She mentioned the other changelings by name, citing their restlessness as a reason for possible concern.

My feathers would not be ruffled. “They have a tendency for such an attitude, yes. I trust that they can keep out of trouble for longer than a few minutes.”

“That’s part of what worries me,” she said. “They said they were going to the roof.”

“The … roof?”

“Mhm.” She turned a page. “Something about watermelon seeds and a duck. The whole thing seemed like a waste of time, so I decided not to join in.”

“That does not seem so bad.” I perused a nearby shelf, wondering what subject I should pore over. “So long as they keep to themselves, I predict no unfortunate explosions to occur in their vicinity.”

A new voice joined in. “Auntie Luna, what would be a fortunate explosion?”

“Mi Amore Cadenza, I am that glad you asked! If you eliminate all other variables, you will find that it is the difference between you and me.”

She opened her mouth. Then she closed it again, and without a word slowly backed out of the room.

“My poor niece,” I said with a chuckle. “I do care for her, but she cannot hope to best me in a battle of wits.”

“Hm.”

I eyed Aranea. She was staring after the vanishing pretty pink princess, with eyes slightly narrowed in thought. “What passes through your mind?” I asked.

“Nothing,” she said, her voice light. Too light. “Absolutely nothing.”

She did not stop looking there. My eyes followed hers to the spot my niece had vacated, and, upon finding nothing, they flicked back to the changeling.

I do not know what to make of this episode. In all likelihood, I am overthinking the matter, for this day has been quite uneventful. Still, there is something about this that I cannot put my hoof on. Perhaps a quiet day of reading will offer some assistance.

Comments

[user123]

5203043
A weeping nightmare?

[ForSpite]

“Mi Amore Cadenza, I am that glad you asked! If you eliminate all other variables, you will find that it is the difference between you and me.”
She opened her mouth. Then she closed it again, and without a word slowly backed out of the room.
“My poor niece,” I said with a chuckle. “I do care for her, but she cannot hope to best me in a battle of wits.

That was a good one, Luna.

[Voldine]

And thus is Chrysalis's loyal spy revealed.