> Yes, Princess
>  by The Usurper
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> Editor's Notes
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	Some of our more astute readers might recall the time when Her Highness Princess Twilight Sparkle, the fourth alicorn princess and bearer of the Element of Magic, assumed the role of Equestria's leader in our great Princess Celestia's stead, while the latter was away on a trip to the Crystal Empire with her sister, Princess Luna. There was nothing unexpected about the trip - it had been planned months in advance - save for two details; one, that it lasted for far longer than expected, and two, that Princess Sparkle was due to take her place as a temporary measure.

In total, Princess Sparkle spent about two years on the throne. In those two years, she learnt much about the Royal Court of Canterlot, how it functioned, and occasionally how it did not. Thankfully for us, she recorded her experiences in her private journal and has now seen fit to share it with us, the Equestrian public. In her own words, she believes that 'the ponies deserve to know what goes on behind the hallowed walls of the palace - and how great a farce it is.'

Her journal, coupled with the actions of His Highness Prince Blueblood, seem to support this statement. Twice has the Prince attempted to keep this work from publication under the Official Secrets Act, and twice it has been overruled by Princesses Sparkle and Celestia, both in short order. We here at Books, Sofas and Quills Co. owe our thanks to them, and it is only by their timely intervention that this novel ever made it onto the shelves.

That aside, it falls to us to lend this novel a compelling air while maintaining the integrity of the original journal. As intriguing as the journal was by itself, we had to make some changes to reflect the situation at the time as accurately and as interestingly as possible. For instance, although it is a clear testament to Princess Sparkle's excellent memory that she retained vague recollections of numerous conversations recorded throughout the novel, we were forced to complete said conversations in their entirety, 'filling in the blanks' with our own appropriate details. However, we have made sure that her unique writing style has been preserved for authenticity.

Also, in the interests of complete accuracy, we arranged a few meetings with the esteemed Princess herself, along with many of her assistants at the time. We have predominantly focused on her then-Assistant Councillor and now-influential High Councillor Tact Ician, who played a key role in her development as a ruler.

Other sources of information include the voluminous papers that became suddenly available to us, again thanks to the efforts of Princess Sparkle, in the immediate aftermath of the ex-High Councillor Agree Mente's unfortunate passing. While his departure from the realm of the living is certainly a cause for mourning, his papers shed invaluable light on the inner workings of the Court. We are therefore also indebted to him, and as a tribute to his memory he shall be immortalised forever in our minds and in this novel.

Finally, we must express our thanks to Carousel Boutique and its proprietor, Miss Rarity, for single-hoofedly sponsoring the publication and production of the first few thousand copies. Without her, this book would never be where it is today.

You will find overleaf the first chapter of the novel Yes, Princess. It should occupy you for a good few hours of your time. And hopefully, you will enjoy it as much as we did.

The Editors,
A.K. Yearling and Davenport


> New Princess in Town
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	2nd December, 2013

I'm worried. Very worried. Princess Celestia called me to Canterlot today and she didn't say why. My advance notice came in the form of one of her dragon-fire letters, and all there was was a curt message instructing me to meet her at once.

[Ed: Thanks to the meticulous and organised nature of our Princess, many relevant documents have been recovered for reference in this work. We have reproduced the letter below for your reference.]

For Princess Sparkle's eyes only:

Dear Twilight,

Please come to Canterlot at once. There is a matter of the utmost urgency that we have to discuss.

Signed,
Princess Celestia

[The journal continues.]

The worst part is that I don't know why she wants to see me or why her message is so vague. She might be in trouble and I wouldn't know it! I'd just be sitting here by myself in the train car, filling in the empty pages of my diary, when I should be out there taking care of something! It's so frustrating. I just wish the message was a little bit clearer. Maybe then I would have the time to think things over instead of rushing straight into whatever's waiting for me.

I'll just have to hope for the best. Not that I keep my hopes high anyway. I suppose I'll just practice my breathing exercises in the corner.









3rd December, 2013

I've been played. Played by my beloved ex-mentor. And she did it so well. As much as I adore and worship her, she can be very crafty and underhoofed when she wants to be.

When I got to the station, the Princess welcomed me warmly, thanking me for coming on such short notice. Even now, the conversation is still bouncing around in my head. I have to write it down.

"Ah, welcome." She said with a smile. If only I'd known that there was a hidden meaning behind it! "I'm so glad you could join us here in Canterlot."

"Um, good morning, Princess." I gave a short bow out of habit.

She chuckled. "It's two in the afternoon, Twilight."

My cheeks burned. "Uh... good afternoon?" I never really had a talent for improvisation.

She just looked at me and laughed gently. I didn't feel much better.

"Just follow me, dear Twilight." She said. I followed her meekly. Thoughts were racing through my head the whole time. What was the emergency? Why weren't my friends summoned along with me? The Elements of Harmony were and had always been our first measure against evil, so maybe this urgent matter wasn't about stopping any force of darkness like it had always been in the past. Right?

I wanted my questions to be answered. I didn't like what I was told.

Princess Celestia led me to the throne room and dismissed the guards. They left me alone with her.

"Twilight." She began.

"Yes?" I shrank under her gaze. It was so... penetrating.

"I need to ask you for a favour."

"A favour, Princess?" I asked cautiously.

"Yes." She said. "Do you know that I will be away from Canterlot, along with Luna, on a trip to the Crystal Empire?"

I did know that. I said as much.

"But do you know how long the trip will last?"

This, I wasn't sure of. "No, Princess."

"It will be at least a year."

I think my jaw was hanging open, because she hastened to reassure me that everything was fine and that Equestria would be able to function adequately without its leaders to govern it.

"The Royal Court is very capable. They will be able to handle almost everything in my absence."

"But, Princess... why did you call me here, then?" I asked. And I suspected, with growing dread, that I already knew the answer.

"Even if the Court is capable of taking care of most issues, there are some which only a sovereign can take charge of. And Equestria needs somepony on the throne while we are gone. So..."

I sighed heavily. "You need me to be the Princess on your behalf while you're away."

She nodded and smiled hopefully. Although now that I think about it, hopefully isn't the best word to use - it implies that there's a chance that things wouldn't have gone her way.

She'd cleverly backed me into a corner. If she hadn't asked me in person, I'd have just sent a letter back to her with a hundred reasons why I couldn't rule Equestria, coupled with statistics, facts and sound reasoning. But she knows that I'm a nervous wreck around her, and without access to my books I can't form such a detailed argument. I had nothing to say. But I had to say something.

"But... I can't!" I choked out eloquently.

"You can, Twilight. I have faith in you."

This calmed me down somewhat. Princess Celestia had faith in my abilities, and she's rarely, if ever, wrong. But I still had my doubts. "But I haven't had any formal training! I need to finish reading How to be a Princess in a Thousand Easy Steps! And I'll have to go and pack first! Oh, what do I need to-"

I wasn't aware that I was rambling, but when she placed a calming hoof on my shoulders, I immediately stopped.

"Don't worry about it. Everything has already been arranged."

I blinked. "It... has?"

"Of course." She said. "The royal servants have prepared a room for you. You can move in within the hour."

"But, my friends!" I protested.

"I've already informed them through Spike. They will be welcome at the palace any time they please."

"And my belongings!"

"You can ask Spike to bring them along. They're still in Ponyville for the time being. Alternatively, I can send a carriage over to deliver them quickly."

"Spike can do it." Inwardly, I was shocked. She already knew that I'd accept.

Then it hit me. I hadn't actually accepted yet!

She must have realized the same thing, because she gave me a quick smile and headed for the door. "Well, it seems the time has come for me to leave. Goodbye, Twilight!"

I tried my best to stop her. I really did. "Wait, Princess! Come back!"

"Don't worry, you'll do fine!" And then she was gone.

The rest of the day was a blur. There were a few servants who entered after the Princess left and dragged me around on a quick tour of the palace. I paid only enough attention to note where the toilet and my bedchambers were. Then they ushered me into my room and told me to rest because tomorrow would be hectic.

Of that, I have no doubts. Even now, a lingering feeling of shock is working its way around my head. I think I haven't grasped the full implications of this yet. Being Equestria's sovereign for a year... it's not something one can absorb easily.

I think I'd better go and rest. It's either that or continue writing this entry, and I've run out of details to add. Maybe tomorrow, if I'm free enough.









4th December, 2013

Oh my Celestia. Today was not free at all.

It began well enough. A gentle knock on my door was meant to be the morning alarm. And it worked; I was very alarmed when I realized that the poor pony had been knocking for ten minutes straight. I tried to invite her into my room to rest, but she declined and all but ran away. I think I must have frightened her somehow.

I quickly bathed and dressed - apparently I've got to wear some ceremonial regalia as an official Princess - and headed straight to the throne room. When I finally arrived I got a most horrific shock.

I was late.

[Ed: In order to shed further light on this situation, and many others in this book, we have inserted several details helpfully provided by then-Assistant Councillor Ician during the many conversations we had.]

High Councillor Ician recalls:

Yes, I remember that day. It was very regrettable that the Princess chose to make a late appearance - it was a rather poor first impression for the Court.

In her absence, High Councillor Mente and I were having a discussion about the change in Princess. Being inexperienced at the time, I foolishly commented that Princess Celestia's departure had made our jobs more difficult.

Mente gave me a strange look. I immediately got the impression that I had spoken without thinking. He explained to me that Princess Celestia's absence was, in fact, very good news. She would not be able to interfere in any Court decisions nor protest any motions we would put forward. Her replacement, Princess Sparkle, would undoubtedly prove far easier to manipulate.

If only he'd known what an impact she would make in her tenure as a ruler.

At that moment, Princess Sparkle walked in the door. We had to cut our conversation short.

[The journal continues.]

There were rows upon rows of ponies in elaborate clothing flanking the red carpet to the throne. The two at the base of the throne caught my attention first. Little did I know that I'd have to spend a lot more time with them than I'd thought. One was a brown earth pony with yellow hair, who, for some reason, looked away guiltily when I stared at him. The other, though, a beige unicorn with an orange mane and tail, returned my questioning gaze with a haughty one.

I already knew that I wouldn't like him.

"Princess," he began imperiously, "may I inquire as to what as-of-yet unknown circumstances led to the subsequent delay which you have obviously suffered, as evidenced by your unfortunate late-coming to this assembly of important personages?"

It took me a while to absorb that. It's a miracle that I even managed to remember it. I think I said something along the lines of "Could you say that in plain Equish?" because he gave me a surprised look.

"My apologies, Princess, but that is in as plain Equish as I could possibly manage." He explained. He looked so serious that I couldn't tell if he was joking or not.

"I think he's wondering," the brown earth pony helpfully interpreted, "why you are late, Princess."

"Oh, now I understand." I said.

"I see." The unicorn maintained his arrogant air. "She wanted crude Equish, not plain. Thank you for clarifying my position, Ician."

"My pleasure, High Councillor Mente." He replied. Of course the nice one has to be the subordinate.

"I was late," I snapped back, "because the alarm I asked for was just a soft knock on my door. So soft that I could barely hear it!"

"Oh my." He remarked. "Our dear Princess Celestia didn't even think to furnish her replacement with information pertaining to her daily routine."

A low murmur echoed around the hall. I didn't know what to say. What daily routine? I decided to ask him.

"Princess Celestia is accustomed to a certain cycle every morning. This is her sort of wake-up call. We assumed that her protégé would follow in her hoofsteps." That made sense, at least.

"Well, you assumed wrongly." I said as grandly as I could manage, trying to assert my authority. "But I forgive you."

He looked at me with raised eyebrows. Ician gave me a shocked expression. I had a feeling that I looked like a clueless fool who had just blundered her way into a hall of intellectuals.

High Councillor Ician recalls:

Princess Sparkle did indeed appear rather foolish. Princess Celestia, in all her years as a reigning monarch, had never made herself out to be greater than the others of the Court. This meant that Princess Sparkle's actions that day were unprecedented. It made her seem self-important. Granted, most of the Court and the Civil Service were self-important as well, but, hypocritical as they were, they immediately labeled the Princess as undesirable.

I am ashamed to say that I, too, fell under the impression that she was as pompous as the others had made her out to be. Further conversations with her washed away my doubts, though. But for that moment, Princess Sparkle had no allies in the Court.

[The journal continues.]

I hoped against hope that there was a way to salvage the situation. I couldn't think of anything. I was rooted to the spot in panic.

And then, slowly, Mente said, "With all due respect, Princess, you really have no idea how you are supposed to act, are you?"

I nodded meekly. What else could I do?

"While it is saddening that Princess Celestia has not educated her temporary successor in the ways of royalty," he addressed the rest of the room, "it most undoubtedly shows her faith in us, the Royal Court and the Civil Service, to continue the affairs of state in her absence."

That elicited an excited response from the others. I suppose they must be happy that the Princess has such a high opinion of them.

He went on with some long-winded and complex speech that I couldn't understand, but I remember him saying something about "wholeheartedly supporting our new Princess" and "educating her in the ways of good government", so I think he was on my side.

I couldn't believe it - and I still can't. Maybe I'd misjudged him. Despite his apparent arrogance, I think I can trust him to have my back. I owe him that trust after he saved me from profound embarrassment!

He welcomed me to the throne. I took a seat gratefully, glad that the whole fiasco was over. Then the Court session began. Over the course of the day, I learnt a few things:

1. Apparently, these sessions only happen once every week. The focus of each one varies from session to session, but this one in particular was about the allocation of funds from the Equestrian Royal Treasury to the separate Ministries. There is a system whereby individual departments, headed by Ministers, cooperate in their own capacities to run the kingdom. They each need a certain amount of money to function, so it's up to me to decide who gets how much. Mente assured me that he and my Assistant Councillor, Ician, would guide me in making the right decisions.

2. Each one of these Ministers - they were the ones along the side of the throne room - are apparently nobles in one way or another. Dukes, barons... even Prince Blueblood, whom I'm fairly certain is the pony Rarity was with at the Gala, was the Minister of Foreign Relations. Many of the senior civil servants under them are knights, which means they are usually addressed with the prefix 'Sir'. But since I basically 'outrank' everypony, I don't need to worry about the various modes of address if I don't want to. I might just do away with it - I think moving up to a first-name basis might bring them closer to me. Making new friends is always good.

3. These sessions can stretch up to hours on end. It seems that everypony's so obsessed with getting their money from the Treasury that they babble on long after everypony's fallen asleep without realizing it. Maybe they think that the activity of their mouths translates to results!

Anyway, I missed lunch and only noticed it when Mente announced that it was late. He continued to say that I wasn't yet used to my schedule so we couldn't expect me to stay on too long. He's quite decent, really, once you get to know him.

He eventually concluded by saying that all the rest of the proposals could go through him. He would make his recommendations to me after active consideration. He asked me for my approval. I gave it readily - no doubt he would do a far better job at it than I would. Not to mention that I was too tired to make any kind of decisions right now.

The session ended with a fanfare of trumpets, and then everypony turned to their own conversations. I retired from the room, Mente and Ician escorting me out, and when I finally pushed through the double doors I sighed with relief. I remarked, tiredly, that I was glad that was over.

"We all are, Princess." Mente said.

I asked him if I'd done a good job.

"For your first day, Princess, you performed admirably." He replied.

"And, if the historical records are to be trusted, even Princess Celestia did worse than you on her first day as a Princess." Ician added.

"Really?" I was intrigued. "What did she do?"

"Apparently, she made a small mistake in her speech. She ended up offending the griffons, dragons, and zebras all at once."

"Oh... my." Never had I imagined my mentor would make such a ghastly error! I'd always pictured her as the epitome of perfection. "How did she resolve that?"

"A Foreign Office miracle." Ician explained proudly. "Her nephew, Prince Blueblood the First, managed to defuse the situation with timely diplomacy. From then on the Blueblood line has always headed the FO - that is to say, the Ministry of Foreign Relations. The Civil Service officials label it unofficially as the Foreign Office, and call it the FO for short."

"How interesting." I said, somewhat untruthfully. I was a bit too fatigued to pay much attention to his explanation of the intricacies of the Foreign Office.

"You must be hungry, Princess." Mente observed. "Would you like to have a late lunch?"

There was a clock on a nearby wall. I checked the time. It was 5pm. "Actually, I think I'll have a short nap before dinner. I am free, right?"

"Yes..." He said slowly. "But you'll be needed at the main dining hall for an official dinner. Publicity for the press."

I asked him when that was.

"About... thirty minutes, Princess."

I thanked him politely, explained that I needed to take my leave, and then rushed off back to my bedchambers. I hope I wasn't too rude.

Great, I spent a good twenty minutes writing this entry. Now I only have ten minutes left. I'll try to get whatever rest I can.









5th December, 2013

Last night's dinner wasn't too bad. At least I didn't make myself look like an idiot in front of the national media. And, against my expectations, there was enough food to sate my hunger completely. I'd commented to Mente, who was sitting beside me, that I thought Princess Celestia had instituted a dieting policy in the Palace some weeks back.

"She did." He said. "But following the change in leadership, her more personal policies have been removed to make way for yours, Princess."

It was a logical course of action. I thanked him for taking the initiative.

"My pleasure." He replied modestly. At least he's keeping his arrogance down.

I was surprised that the reporters, with their cameras and notebooks out, seemed perfectly content with watching the dinner from the sidelines and taking the occasional picture. I had the impression that reporters loved to ask questions and flash their cameras. I guess they decided to be well behaved in front of royalty.

High Councillor Ician recalls:

It was no coincidence that the reporters were not their usual active selves. Mente had spoken to the press earlier, while the Princess was having her nap. He ordered them not to be as... what's the term, 'in your face'? He intended the Princess to be as fresh as she could to next morning when he taught her the 'ways of good government'. In the Civil Service and Royal Court sense, this meant maintaining the status quo at all costs. Of course, Princess Sparkle knew nothing of this.

[The journal continues.]

The food was pretty good too. I guess the cooks here are Princess Celestia's own for a reason.

Encouraged by Mente, I went to bed early and got up early in the morning. It occurred to me, before I went to bed, that I forgot to specify what kind of alarm I'd rather have instead of the soft knocking. Which meant, of course, that nothing would have changed. But I was expecting it this time. I slept lightly and was snapped awake when Blossom - she told me what her name was when I asked later today - knocked on the door.

After I got up and thanked her, I went through my daily routine as fast as I could and hurried off to the throne room. When I threw open the doors, I was greeted with stacks and stacks of paper reaching all the way towards the incredibly tall ceiling.

And at the centre of it all were Mente and Ician, bowing at my approach.

"What's all this?" I gasped.

"Good morning, Princess." Mente said. Ician echoed his greeting.

I wondered if they were avoiding the question. I pressed on. "What's all this?"

"Today's work." Mente explained.

I was horrified. "Today's work?"

"Yes, Princess."

"What... what am I supposed to do with all this?"

"They're proposals."

I'm afraid I misunderstood him at first. I thought he meant marriage proposals. I suppose that's what I get for growing up on romance novels. "Oh my... so many?"

"Yes, Princess."

I was very surprised, and, though I felt somewhat honoured, it was too much to handle on such short notice. "Could you tell all of them no?"

"No?" Mente raised an eyebrow. "All of them?"

"All of them." I stated. "Please reject them."

"Well... you didn't even read them yet." Ician pointed out.

"I don't need to read them to know that it's a bad idea to accept any of them. Not, at least, right now."

Mente paused. "Princess, if I may clarify your stance?"

I told him yes. It was my mistake.

"Despite your apparent lack of knowledge concerning the aforementioned propositions presented by several of your earnest subjects, you have, not to put too fine a point on it, absolutely no intention of accepting any of these over the course of the next twenty-four hours during which you will be predominantly occupied by your obligations as a royal Princess of Equestria. Therefore, although it is, in fact, highly likely that you will not venture very far from the opulent doors of this throne room, you would rather remain conspicuously idle than examine the array of proposed offers, many of which are, in my humble opinion, fairly well thought out and certainly merit a greater amount of scrutiny than what you have currently decided to allow, which is to say, none."

I'm lucky Ician takes detailed notes of these meetings, otherwise I'd never have been able to write this all down. Even my memory has limits!

"Princess," Ician explained, probably having noticed my dumbfounded expression, "he is saying that the proposals deserve greater consideration before you reject them out of hoof."

Thank goodness for translations. "I see."

"After all," Mente added, "we do need a new supplier of apples for Canterlot soon."

Because I was still misunderstanding him, I became somewhat confused. "Apples? What does this have to do with my proposals?"

"It is one of your proposals, Princess." He said.

And then, all at once, I understood. I almost blushed from the acute embarrassment, until I realized that they didn't yet know that I had so gravely misinterpreted Mente's words.

I tried to brush it off. "Ah, I see. I thought the proposals were... more important." In my semi-panicked state, I noticed that I had come up with a halfway logical point. "Yes. I didn't feel up to making decisions of such weight on my second day as Princess."

"Of course." Mente nodded. I was amazed. Either he was more gullible than I thought - I hardly think so - or I'm getting better at on-the-spot thinking. [Ed: It is possible that Mente merely wanted to save his Princess' face, but that's nothing we can prove.]

"We don't wish to burden you with it, if that is not your wish." Ician said.

The misunderstanding cleared up, I turned my attention back to the stacks of papers. "Am I supposed to look through all of this?"

"Well... yes." Mente said.

"Could I... somehow not have to go over all of them?"

"No. Not unless..." He hesitated. "No, you probably won't want that."

"Won't want what?" I asked.

"We - that is, Assistant Councillor Ician and I - could go through these proposals for you, with the assistance of the affected Ministries. We'd make recommendations as to which choice is preferable, and then send you the necessary documents for signing."

It sounded like a lot of work, if it was only the two of them. I questioned him about this.

"We have a number of assistants in the Civil Service who are available to assist us in this task."

I thought that it was a good way to lighten my load. Why had he assumed that I wouldn't want it?

He answered my question before I asked it. "But Princess Celestia had expressed a wish to be informed about everything going on in the nation, and requested that all proposals be presented to her to look through. I had assumed that-"

"- her protégé would follow in her hoofsteps." I finished for him. "Maybe in the future. But for now, I would find it easier to cope if you could help me recommend the decisions."

He looked relieved. "Yes, Princess. As you wish."

His formality reminded me of the plan I'd thought of yesterday. "Actually, that reminds me. I don't want you to keep calling me Princess. Could you just call me by my name?"

Mente shifted uncomfortably. "Well, Princess, if it's all the same to you I'd rather address you as Princess."

"I'd prefer that too, Princess." Ician piped up.

This was disappointing, to say the least. I hoped that they might have been willing to give informality a try, but I suppose I can't fault them for sticking with what they know. "Very well. At least let me use your names."

"Anything you desire, Princess." Mente murmured. "I can only request that you call me by my last name."

That's a start, if nothing else. I asked Ician if he had any preferences.

"You can call me anything you want, Princess." He said. "I am but your faithful servant."

He somehow managed to be both more and less accommodating at the same time. "I want to be your friend, not your master."

"If you say so, Princess." I was getting tired of all the 'Princess'es being thrown around. I told Ician so.

He bowed deeply. "My apologies. I will refrain from such overuse in future."

Frustration welled up. All the subservience irritated me to no end. I insisted that he at least try to be less formal.

"But... I..." He seemed lost. He turned to Mente for help.

Mente cut in smoothly. "With all due respect, Princess, I must express my opinion that, having been operating this way for the past few years, it would be fairly difficult to adjust so quickly. And," he observed sharply, "it's rather like your own adjustment to your royal duties."

He was right. Understanding washed the anger away. "Of course. I'm sorry, Ician. Can you accept my apology?"

"I- uh-" He wanted to say yes - it was obvious on his face - but I think he was stressing out about how to say it in the least formal but most respectful way possible.

"Don't worry." I told him gently. "You can say it however you like."

"Thank you, Princess." He bowed with evident relief. "I greatly appreciate your understanding."

"It's nothing, really." I replied.

After that, we got down to serious work. I went through the first few proposals, with Mente helpfully summarising everything for me - or rather, with Mente translating them into advanced incomprehensible Equish and Ician translating them back into plain. Although, to be fair, after I glanced at one of those proposals I realised that they're pretty incomprehensible on their own.

When I got to the one about Canterlot's apple supplier, I suggested Applejack right away. She seemed like the obvious choice to me. However, surprisingly, Mente blanched.

"With respect, Princess," he said, "I feel that perhaps Applejack might not be the best choice."

I was puzzled. "Why not?"

"Erm, well, the quality of her produce is suspect."

"By who?" I asked crossly.

"Certainly not by anypony respectable, Princess." He backtracked quickly. "But this small group of misguided ponies would result in a net decrease of public patronage for the Apple family."

"But they're just a small group." I pointed out.

"Well, yes, but a rather large small group."

I just stared at him.

"That is, it is disturbingly large for a classification of small." He hastily amended.

"The Apple Family won the Best Produce in Equestria Award for three years running." I reminded him. "Not to mention I can personally attest to the quality of Applejack's apples."

"Most certainly, Princess. But I'm afraid that might not be enough for this group."

I was getting fed up. "What is this group?"

"Oh, just a little... um... group."

"What are they?" I demanded.

"We... don't quite know." He admitted.

"Then how do you know they exist?"

"They always exist." He insisted. "In Canterlot, produce from small villages like Ponyville are always looked down upon."

"Perhaps," Ician suggested, "it would be better to leave this matter aside for future consideration."

Mente agreed quickly. "Yes, to make such an important decision on the spur of the moment would be precipitate."

"Premature." Ician added.

"Exactly." With that, Mente hurriedly moved on to the next proposal, giving me no chance to object further.

A few hours passed, with the endless mass of proposals being read out to me. Truth be told, I wasn't listening too intently to the rest of them. Instead, I was busy wondering about the apple supplier problem.

When lunchtime came at last, Mente excused himself politely, bowed, and departed. Ician did the same, but before he could leave I stopped him.

"Can I ask you a question?"

He look surprised. "Of course, Princess."

Briefly, I questioned if he remembered the problem about who the next apple supplier would be.

"Yes, I do. Why?"

"Is there something Mente isn't telling me about the whole thing?"

"Well..."

"Because, if there is," I said, "I want to get to the core of it."

Ician chuckled. I couldn't for the life of me figure out why.

"I'm sorry, Princess, I thought you were making a... never mind, do go on."

Not wanting to beat around the bush, I went straight for the crux of the issue: Why did Mente seem so opposed to Applejack's selection as the supplier?

To my surprise, Ician shrugged helplessly. "I'm sorry, but I'm afraid I don't know the answer."

"You don't?"

"I don't." He repeated.

He then went on to explain to me that, as a mere Assistant Councillor, he was not privy to all the information Mente, as High Councillor, was, and as such he hadn't been informed of any circumstances pertaining to the issue, if indeed there were hidden circumstances surrounding it.

"Though I'm sure he has his reasons." He finished.

A sudden thought struck me. "Could it be... that he's one of those ponies who can't stand common village food?"

"Um..." Ician hesitated. In other words, he didn't deny it!

"And to think," I fumed, "that I thought he was on my side this whole time!"

"Princess," he begged, "don't you think you should ask him about this first, before you jump to conclusions?"

I didn't see why I should bother. The facts certainly lined up. He's arrogant, haughty, superior... come to think of it, that's exactly how Rarity described Prince Blueblood. And I already know how that story ended.

"He's the perfect fit for the personality." I reasoned.

"But was his explanation not logical as well?" Ician said desperately.

"I know Applejack won't care if a few snobbish ponies don't buy her apples." I explained.

"Well, um, perhaps you should consult Mente first? I mean, he is far more experienced at the affairs of government..."

"He's made his views quite clear." I said curtly.

Ician tried to speak up again, but I silenced him with a look.

"The point is," I said, "that he's got his own selfish interests in mind. And I'm definitely not letting such a good chance for my friend go to waste."

With that, I let Ician go to have his own lunch, but not before asking him if I could take the rest of the day off.

"You are our Lord and Master, Princess. Your word is law."

"Then I'll rest." I decided.

"As you wish."

I swept out of the room and back to my chambers, silently resolving to think this whole thing over.

Now I'm not even sure if I can trust Mente.

This is appalling.

High Councillor Ician recalls:

Despite the fact that I hadn't been able to provide Princess Sparkle with any explanation, I suspected, with growing dread, that she had misinterpreted the situation. Although I was new to the position of Assistant Councillor at the time, I had been a Private Secretary at the MHSS - the Ministry of Health and Social Security - for a good portion of my career before that. I was wise enough to the workings of the Court to formulate a theory as to why Mente was unwilling to accept Applejack as the supplier.

I searched for him in the palace mess hall. I found him sitting at the table at the far end. When I drew closer, he greeted me warmly and invited me to sit down. I did so gratefully.

I must have looked worried, because he enquired if there was something on my mind. Being bound by confidentiality not to disclose any private conversations with the Princess to anypony, even her High Councillor, I merely hinted vaguely that the Princess was concerned about the apple supplier issue.

"Ah." Mente said gravely. He motioned to me to continue.

I then proceeded to outline, roughly, the facts: That Princess Sparkle did not believe that his argument was sufficiently convincing, and that she was considering ignoring his advice.

"Preposterous." He exclaimed. "Did you not try to talk her out of it?"

I assured him that I did, although she might, regardless, have come to a conclusion that may or may not have been wholly appropriate or accurate in relation to the truth of the matter, though as I myself was not yet fully in the picture I could not defend him with as much conviction as I otherwise might have been able to.

He thus explained the situation to me. It was as I feared. As Applejack was a part of the Apple Family, selecting her as the supplier would undoubtedly bring much power to the one senior member of government who also belonged to that family: Sir Apple Bee, the Permanent Secretary of the Ministry of Administrative Affairs.

Mente had no doubt as to the repercussions. "Apple Bee stands to gain a monstrous amount of power. Wielding such influence over an issue so great as all of Canterlot's apple supply would put him in a position to threaten anypony and, indeed, everypony to achieve his aims."

Naturally, I was aware of this, but I posited the theory that he might not be so irresponsible with his power.

"Not a chance." Mente shook his head sadly. "No one can be responsible with this kind of power."

He was right, of course. I already knew what Sir Apple would do with his newfound influence. It is something that is known to the public as "bureaucratic empire building". In practice, this means that he would convince - i.e. coerce - the Treasury to allocate more budget to his Ministry under pain of economic disaster, which he would have the ability to bring about because of his control over the price of a commodity so high in demand as apples. Then, with a higher budget, he would hire more and more Civil Servants for the Ministry, thus expanding his "empire".

This would be disastrous, for two reasons. Firstly, it would deprive the other Ministries of the money they actually needed. Secondly, it would make the Ministry of Administrative Affairs a monster Ministry, upsetting the balance of power between the Permanent Secretaries and in the Court. It could not be allowed to happen.

I wondered aloud if, were we to explain this to Princess Sparkle, she might reconsider her decision.

"Don't be silly." He admonished. "The Princess barely understands how the Court is supposed to work. She will never comprehend how the Court really works under its façade."

"What, exactly, doesn't she understand about it?" I asked.

"She might be labouring under the impression that the Court works together towards the interests of the country." He replied.

He was right. Princess Sparkle was completely misinformed.

[The journal continues.]









6th December, 2013

I'm thrilled.

My friends visited me today.

They came by at 7a.m. According to Blossom, who woke me up at the usual time, the palace maids prepared the best guest rooms they could find in the ambassadorial wing for them - apparently that's where royal guests usually stay overnight - and gave them the standard welcome package.

When I asked her what the welcome package entailed, she explained to me that it meant free admission to the royal spa, meals provided for as long as they stay, freedom to roam around the palace as they pleased - except the sensitive areas, of course - and complimentary tickets to the Canterlot Opera House's performance of Hinny of the Hills.

It all sounded very exciting. From what I heard, Hinny of the Hills had been sold out for at least a month. But apparently it's sold out because the Ministry of the Arts had bought everything that was left after the first few weeks and were selling some of them at a high price to a few select outsiders and some of them at a subsidised rate for the Ministers and Civil Servants as a reward for a years' hard work. The rest of them were kept for occasions like these, when foreign delegates or royal visitors came around and the Court was eager to show them the "pinnacle of Equestrian civilisation."

After Blossom brought me up to speed, Ician came by for a quick word. I was about to ask him if I could have today off, too, but he preempted me.

"Princess, I've taken the liberty to ask Mente if you could be freed from your royal duties for today, in view of the extenuating circumstances."

"Did he say yes?" I asked cautiously.

He took a notepad out and read: "He explained to me that, as you previously expressed a firm desire to re-adopt the traditional allocation of managerial responsibilities, you have consequently liberated yourself from the intricate details of the minute functions of government and much of the inconvenience and onerous duties that are concomitant of your position, and as such the quantity of tedious tasks with which you would otherwise be summarily occupied have decreased by a satisfactory amount at the present moment, so much so that the total of twenty-four hours of leisure and recreation I requested in your stead would not precipitate an organisational and administrative atrophy the likes of which would render effectively impossible the smooth and efficient discharge of essential governmental duties in your absence."

There was a pained silence.

"Which means...?" I prompted.

He thought for a moment. "Yes."

"Thank you." I replied. I then asked him to leave the note with me, so I could record this piece of immortal prose in my diary.

After that, I went off to the ambassadorial wing to meet my friends. It's so strange; I used to see them every day, but for the first time since that Summer Sun Celebration I hadn't even heard a word about them for three days straight.

I spent ten minutes searching the wing before I realised that they weren't there anymore. For a terrible moment I thought that they'd left without me to the spa or the Opera House, but thankfully my fears were laid to rest when I found them loitering outside the throne room. Apparently they thought that I'd be working today.

To my delight, Spike had come along too. I wondered if he'd have stayed in the library to take care of it while everypony else was gone, but it seems he missed me a little too much.

We had a wonderful, happy group hug, and then they all started to assail me with questions.

"What's it like rulin' over Equestria?" Applejack asked. Looks like the news spreads fast.

"Totally awesome, right?" Rainbow added.

"Ooh, ooh! I'm sure it was sooooo exciting! I mean, this place is huge! Did you know that there's a room with a bouncing castle? Oh, and the other one that's-" At which point Pinkie devolved into a long ramble about pastries.

I laughed. "Really, it's a a lot more work than I thought it'd be."

"What about the palace? It was classy and elegant, no?" Rarity said with a smile.

"I haven't actually seen much of it yet." I confessed. "I've been too busy working."

Fluttershy looked concerned. "You were okay, right? Alone in a new place, your friends away... Wasn't it frightening?"

I chuckled gently and explained that nothing could be further from the truth. "I grew up in the palace, remember? Besides, everypony's been really friendly and cooperative."

"Everypony?" Spike inquired.

"Everypony." I repeated, just before Mente came to mind. "Well, most of the time, at least."

We chatted a little more about my new life. After that, I asked them how Ponyville was while I was gone.

"We miss you dearly, darling, but thanks to Spikey Wikey," she patted him on the head, and he looked up at her with infatuation in his eyes, "the library's been running as per normal in your absence."

I smiled at him. "Thank you, Spike."

"Huh?" He snapped out of his reverie. "Uh, no problem, Twilight!"

"Ya know, he's really a little saint." Applejack said. "He's been helpin' everyone out."

"Like me!" Pinkie exclaimed. "He helped me organise my 'Twilight's in Canterlot for a while' party!"

"Oh, and me, too." Fluttershy added. "He's fed my animals for me while I packed to come to Canterlot."

This seemed like a lot for just Spike to handle. I asked, half-joking, if Owlowiscious had done some of the work.

The sarcasm flew right over his head. "Yup, he took care of the library while I was away!"

Applejack nodded. "He's certainly been doin' a lot ta make sure we got ta Canterlot as soon as we could. He even helped me with a small harvest!"

And with that, a brilliant idea came to mind. An idea so wonderful, I can't believe I thought of it myself on the spot.

"Speaking of your apple harvests, Applejack," I began, "I've heard of an opening for Canterlot's new apple supplier." Smiling my biggest smile, I continued, "How would you like Sweet Apple Acres to take over that responsibility?"

Her eyes widened. "Whoa nelly! You ain't pulling my leg, are ya?"

"Of course not." I said.

"... It's a huge honour." She answered giddily, still amazed.

I chuckled. "Well, you deserve it."

"But... wow." She pranced around. "Ah gotta tell Granny Smith about this. She'll be so happy!"

A second idea came to me. "Good idea. Spread the word! Everypony deserves to know."

"Ah don't doubt it." She grinned.

I was almost as excited as she was. Now I've got Mente. Let's see him go back on a royal announcement!

"How about we celebrate this momentous occasion with the Opera House's performance of Hinny of the Hills?" Rarity asked.

"Sounds like just the thing to round this off." I smiled.

So we went off. The play was fantastic. And I was euphoric the whole time.

This is going to be perfect.









[Ed: As previously mentioned in the Editor's Notes, we have recovered several of Mente's papers for publication. Below is an extract from his personal journal, dated the 8th of December.]

Lunched with Worth today. [Ed: Sir Bits Worth was the then-Permanent Secretary of the Treasury.]

He, like the rest of the Court and Civil Service, had already heard of the ghastly rumour about Canterlot's new apple supplier that has been flying around, and he expressed the shock that has been similarly reflected throughout all of the Palace.

He demanded to know why I had not stopped her. I had no choice to explain that, at the time, I was unable to refute the Princess' argument without bringing complex Civil Service manoeuvring into the picture, which would undoubtedly have confused her to no end.

However, I indicated that there was still a way to prevent this travesty from coming to fruition. Since the incident three days ago, I had accumulated a significant number of counter-arguments to the Princess' case.

I shared them with Worth. He smiled beatifically and congratulated me on my far-sightedness.

I asked for his cooperation, for it would surely be needed. He gave it without hesitation.

[The journal continues.]









10th December, 2013

Today was absolutely horrible. But it didn't begin like that.

I woke up feeling happy; though my friends had left yesterday, the news I'd given Applejack was now spreading around the Palace - and all of Equestria, in fact - like wildfire. It was only a matter of time before Mente would be forced to confront me about it, though for the past few days he had been conspicuous by his absence. According to Ician, he had fallen sick. Presumably from worrying about how to handle what I'd done.

But I was rather surprised when I entered the throne room this morning. Sir Worth, the Permanent Secretary of the Treasury, was waiting for me, a displeased scowl on his face. I smiled at him pleasantly, but his scowl only deepened.

"Um," said Ician meekly from behind the newcomer, "Sir Worth would like to have a word with you, Princess."

"Yes, I would." He snapped.

"Oh?" I feigned intrigue. "What about?"

"Princess," he asked, "are these rumours about Canterlot's new apple supplier true?"

I could scarcely believe my ears. "Of course! Why would you think otherwise?"

"Because it is completely ludicrous."

"Are you saying, therefore," I inquired, "that I am an idiot for having spread them?"

He retreated hastily. "No, no, Princess. I merely believe that you have made a premature decision, without sufficient consideration for the repercussions." He took a deep breath, and then eyed me cautiously. "There is profound opposition to your decision in the Court."

As I expected. I hadn't thought that ponies like Prince Blueblood would 'lower themselves' to eating common village food anyway. "Really?"

"Indeed, there is." He said. "And I am here today, on their behalf, to impart some of the arguments that have come my way."

"I see." I was all set to resist. But I hadn't known - couldn't have known! - that he had far better points than I had imagined.

"There is talk," he said carefully, "of nepotism. Corruption."

There was a pause as I assimilated this new information. "What?!" I exclaimed.

"It seems suspicious to some that your immediate, close acquaintance and fellow Element of Harmony would be your first choice for the new supplier."

"That's nonsense." I retorted. "The quality of her apples has been proven. The Best Produce in Equestria award-"

"- Is somewhat less than reliable in its results." Worth interrupted.

This was news to me. "What do you mean?"

"You see," he explained slowly, "The recipient of the Award is not decided by a committee. It is more of a popularity contest than anything else."

"You mean, ponies vote for who produces the best produce?" I supposed.

"Exactly." He nodded.

"I don't see what's so unreliable about that."

"Well, not in itself, perhaps." He acknowledged. "But when you consider that many of the voters in the last contest of the Apple family came from within the family itself..."

"... Ah." This did not look good.

"And," he continued, "as the Award is based upon popular support on a city-by-city basis, rather than an individual one, and support from a city can be won with but slightly more than half of its population in favour of a candidate... well, the reliability of the Award is naturally suspect, especially since a large number of cities fall under great Apple family influence. And many in Canterlot share this view."

"... I see." What else could I say?

"Thus, the accusations of nepotism."

"But," I cried, "I didn't know about this at all!"

Ician coughed politely. I turned my attention to him.

"Sadly, Princess," he said, "that is not enough to vindicate you. You were deemed to have known."

"Then why didn't Mente tell me?" I demanded.

"I think that he may not have known either."

This was absolutely terrible. I was stuck. I couldn't possibly rescind a royal statement, but if I didn't I'd look corrupt.

I shared this view with Ician, who nodded in resigned agreement. "I'm afraid that the only course of action at this point would be to invite Princess Celestia back from her trip early, and-"

I cut him off. "I can't possibly do that!"

"But I'm sure Princess Celestia would understand, if it was an emergency."

Oh, she would understand, all right. She would understand that I couldn't even take care of the kingdom for a week without it falling apart!

"Isn't there anything else I could do?" I asked desperately.

"Actually..." began Worth.

"Yes?" I quickly seized the opportunity. "Actually...?"

"... There may be another way."

"Really?"

"Yes... and no." He replied with caution. "At the moment, Princess, the news of Applejack's appointment is only a rumour. If we act quickly, the Palace can issue a press statement denouncing it as baseless."

"But that's not the truth!" I exclaimed.

Ician looked at me strangely. "Of course it's not, Princess."

"Then how can we say it?"

Now Worth gave me a confused stare. "By... not telling the truth?"

"We can't lie to the nation!" I insisted. "That would be wrong!"

"And having them lose faith in their leader isn't?" Worth asked rhetorically. "Sometimes, Princess, one is called upon to choose the lesser of two evils for the sake of the country."

As much as I hated to admit it, he was right. But I still couldn't bring myself to do it. "I would be betraying their trust in me."

"I understand your sentiments, but... I think the right choice here is obvious." Worth sighed. "Still, it is a choice. Your choice." And he looked at me expectantly.

Pushing my reservations aside, I was about to relent, albeit reluctantly, when another thought hit me. "Wait. What's Applejack going to think?"

"I beg your pardon?" Worth blinked.

With a heavy heart, I explained to them that, if I did what they said, I'd have to let Applejack down. And hard. The image of her wide grin flashed through my head. Could I be responsible for ruining that?

"It'll destroy our friendship forever!" I moaned. Actually, looking back, I may have been overreacting just a little bit. But what I did know - and still do - is that I wouldn't be able to look her in the eye ever again.

"On the face of it, Princess," said a voice from behind me, "there is but one solution."

I whipped around, startled. "Mente?"

"Of course." Standing in the doorway, looking as smug as I'd ever seen him, Mente nodded, a brilliantly shined and polished apple in his right forehoof.

"But... I thought you were sick!"

"I was." He motioned to the apple. "But you know what they say - an apple a day keeps the doctor away." With that, he bit down on the fruit, chewing slowly.

"Where did you get that?"

"I purchased it from Applejack yesterday, as she was preparing for her departure." He shrugged. "She seemed quite eager to force one onto me, and in retrospect I'm glad I obliged."

I simply stared in bewilderment.

"Anyway, Princess, that is off-topic. What matters here, and now, is solving your problem." He fixed me with a stern gaze. "But I must warn you that there is no conceivable way to depart from this experience with your conscience unscathed."

I had figured as much a minute ago. "Okay, what do I have to do?"

"I... that is, Sir Worth and I... have been preparing for this eventuality." He said. "We have devised an plan."

"Yes?" I asked anxiously.

"I'm afraid that you will have to explain to your friend that you were mistaken. That, in fact, the appointment of Canterlot's apple supplier had already been decided upon beforehand, and you had not been aware of it."

"How does that change anything?" I complained. "It just makes me seem less guilty! If anything, I should just tell her the truth and accept the full blame."

"Would that be wise?" He challenged. "Your friend might be somewhat... less than pleased."

He was right. And Applejack said she'd tell Granny Smith, too. I couldn't possibly break both their hearts. Not to mention that I might inadvertently give Granny Smith a literal broken heart if I wasn't careful. That kind of guilt could never be washed clean.

"But then, what can I do?"

Mente took another bite from his apple. "To soften the blow, you can say that the position of Neighpon's apple supplier will be soon be available, and may consequently be awarded to her in due course."

"Is that true?" I inquired cautiously.

"Certainly." He replied.

I wasn't satisfied. "When is 'soon'?"

"Oh, you know." He waved his hoof in a non-committal fashion. "Soon."

"When?" I repeated.

"... When the current supplier steps down."

I was relentless. "Which would be when?"

"In the fullness of time."

"Mente!" I snapped.

"The current contract will last up to five more years."

I was speechless.

"Which is not so long, really, in the greater scheme of things." He defended himself.

"Mente," I ground out, "five years is not most ponies' definition of 'soon'."

"It's certainly soon in geological terms." He countered. "In any case, would you rather be the bearer of only bad news for your friend?"

Although he was right, I still couldn't bring myself to deceive Applejack. But I couldn't bring myself to disappoint Princess Celestia either. I was at a loss.

Ician must have noticed my internal struggle, because he stepped forward and placed a comforting hoof on my shoulder. "Princess... I know it's hard to make a choice like this, but in the end, don't the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few? If the ponies lost faith in their leader, that would bring all of Tartarus down on the Royal Court."

They were all making sense. Too much sense. I knew what I had to do. But there was a force holding me back that I couldn't overcome.

So I stalled. I said that I needed a little bit more time to think things over, and asked if I could possibly have the rest of the day off. Again.

To all their credits, they nodded in understanding and agreed, unanimously, that it was a hard decision to make, and that I certainly needed some time to consider the options.

"After all, Princess, we wouldn't want you to do something you'll regret." Worth said. As if that was an option anymore.

I thanked them wearily, trudged back to my room, and locked the door behind me.

... What am I going to do?









11th December, 2013

I'm in the train car again. Mente tried to give me the royal compartment, but I insisted on taking the standard one. I'm not going to let myself be drunk with luxury.

Sitting here, writing this, and worrying about Applejack, I'm getting the strangest sense of déjà vu.

I can only hope for the best. Not that I'm going to keep my hopes high anyway.









12th December, 2013

I arrived in Ponyville today. I knew my return ticket gave me only five hours to stay, and that Applejack was my first priority, but I didn't want to face what I had to do. Not yet.

So I wandered around for a little while, caught up with a few acquaintances, checked on the library, Sugarcube Corner, Carousel Boutique... 

Well, let's just say I had only half an hour left when I finally got to Sweet Apple Acres. Granny Smith was snoring quietly in her little rocking chair on the front porch. I didn't have the heart to wake her up, so I silently nudged past her and into the house proper.

I found Applejack in the kitchen, making pancakes. She looked up at me and smiled. "Well howdy, Twi! What brings you all the way down here from Canterlot?"

I swallowed. This was it. "Well... I'm sorry, Applejack, but I have some bad news."

She raised an eyebrow. "Bad news?"

"Yes." I licked my lips nervously. "You see, I don't... well, actually... I mean..."

"Come on, Twi, what is it?" She looked at me, concerned. "Are ya alright?"

"I'm fine." I quickly assured her. I'm not sure if she believed me. "It's just that... that..." I struggled, but for some reason the words just wouldn't come out of my mouth.

"Are ya sure you're alright?"

"You're not the Canterlot apple supplier anymore!" I blurted out. The moment I realised what I'd done I clapped my forehooves over my mouth in shock.

"... Come again?"

Slowly, I let my hooves sag back to the ground. I took a deep breath and, holding it in, looked Applejack in the eye. "I'm sorry, Applejack, but..." I hesitated momentarily, then pressed on, "apparently I was mistaken. Canterlot's new apple supplier was already chosen before I told you, and I didn't know."

She blinked, and then hung her head in disappointment. "Ah... ah see..."

Now was the moment, I knew. Either I told her the news about Neighpon or not. Should I be honest with her, or try to cheer her up - even if it was with what amounted to false hope?

I stared at her sadly. And I distinctly remember the exact words that ran through my mind at that moment:

Applejack, I'm sorry.

I forced a smile. "I do have some good news, though. According to my advisors, Neighpon is going to need a new apple supplier soon. And when the time comes I'll be sure to put your name on the top of the list."

She raised her head, distinctly more cheerful. "Well, that's nice to know. Thanks, Twi."

"Right... so, I suppose that's all, then." I looked at a nearby kitchen clock. "Sorry, Applejack, but I need to leave now. My train will be here soon."

"You'd better be off, then." She waved goodbye, and I returned it half-heartedly, along with a whole string of other empty reassurances and apologies, before heading back to the station.

Technically, I had spoken the truth. I distinctly remember every last word I said, and not once did I actually lie. But I had misled her so much that there isn't much of a difference.

I keep telling myself that that's not as bad. But the feeling in my gut tells me otherwise.

I hate being a Princess. Why does it have to be so difficult?









14th December, 2013

I came back to the throne room late in the afternoon, tired and weary. Mente was off on some administrative business about the new official apple supplier, but Ician was there and waiting. He greeted me with the usual respectful "Good morning, Princess" but I wasn't in any real mood to reply.

I sank to the ground and just sat there, staring at the wall and thinking about the whole incident. Obligingly, Ician sat by my side and accompanied me in my silence.

I finally spoke up. "Ician?"

"Yes, Princess?"

"Will I have to do this a lot?"

He replied, "Not at all, Princess. I doubt you will have very much time to sit around and do nothing in the future."

He had misunderstood me. I explained patiently that I had meant if I would have to make a habit of lying to my friends - or, come to think of it, anypony at all.

"Well... I'm afraid so, Princess."

I asked an obvious question. "Why?"

He looked confused. "Why?"

"Why all the lying?" I clarified. "Is government all about deception?"

"Not quite." Ician replied carefully. "Only about half of it."

"Why are there so many secrets?" I questioned.

"To protect those in charge." He answered promptly. "You, primarily."

Normally I might have disagreed. But after just one week in the palace I can sort of see the truth in that.

"But surely," I insisted, "we have to tell the truth sometimes, even if it's not all that nice to hear."

Ician paused, presumably considering what to say next. I waited for his response.

"... Princess, would you agree that we all make mistakes, from time to time?"

That had an easy answer. I nodded.

"Would you also agree that oftentimes, ponies remember you for the mistakes you make, and not your successes?"

"Not always." I argued.

He pondered this for a moment. "Did you know, Princess, that King Sombra was, before his ultimate descent into villainy, a fair, just, and wise ruler of the Crystal Empire?"

"Well, no." I confessed. "Is that true?"

"Oh, of course. Though, in the end, the old adage held true: Power corrupts, and absolute power corrupts absolutely."

I was intrigued by this statement. "But Princess Celestia has been ruling Equestria for the past thousand years alone and she hasn't done anything wrong yet."

"I'm glad you think so, Princess." Ician responded simply. Even now, I still don't dare think through the implications of that statement.

"But what does this all mean?" I pressed on. "Are you saying that I have to hide the fact that I make mistakes from the public so they don't lose faith in me?"

"That's exactly it." He nodded.

"Wouldn't they understand if I make a mistake, though? Everypony knows that I'm not a god. I'm just equine."

"If anypony else makes a mistake, the consequences are comparatively minor. But if you make a mistake, Princess, it may very well destroy the world."

I was aghast. "Destroy the world?"

"Well, not literally." He amended. "But you have the capacity to cause all sorts of catastrophes. One wrong administrative decision, and the delicate balance of government can come crashing down. One wrong policy decision, and thousands of ponies could be made homeless, penniless, or worse. One wrong governmental purchase, and the entire stock market can be sent out of balance, precipitating a recession and the consequent starvation of millions. One wrong-"

"Okay, enough! I get it." I wasn't particularly keen on hearing him go on. For the first time since I assumed the position of Equestria's ruler, I realised just how much responsibility rested on my shoulders.

"My point is, Princess, that there is no such thing as a small mistake for you. Any mistake you make will have severe repercussions. If you are blamed for them, the ponies will cry out for a new leader. We have to lie to maintain public confidence."

I wasn't satisfied yet. "But we're betraying their trust anyway."

"But they don't know that you are." He explained. "Think about it this way, Princess. You are here to do good, aren't you? But you can't do any good if you're dethroned."

I conceded the point.

"You can be a liar, but still be righteous." He continued. "So long as you have the interests of the ponies at heart."

"So," I ventured, "I shouldn't feel guilty about all this deception?"

"There is a saying in the Civil Service. 'A clean conscience is an indulgence.' We are called upon to make sacrifices for the good of the nation. Sometimes that means giving up your principles."

"I did the right thing, then?" I asked, hoping for reassurances.

"Absolutely."

I followed that by saying that I supposed I was an acceptably good leader, then.

Ician paused, and hesitated. "If I may speak freely?"

"Go ahead." I replied.

"With all due respect, Princess, you are not a good leader. Not yet."

I was surprised. I asked him to explain.

"A truly righteous leader always puts the interests of the public first. But from what I observed, you were predominantly concerned with Princess Celestia's displeasure, your friendship, and your image."

My first instinct was to object. But when I struggled to come up with a retort I realised that he was right.

He must have noticed my unhappiness, because he quickly added, "But, of course, acknowledging your flaws is the first step to fixing them. You have good in you, Princess. You have the potential to do a lot. You only have to be willing, and you can change the world."

We sat in silence for a little longer. Finally, I asked, "Do you really mean it?"

Ician looked me in the eyes, and said, with complete sincerity and honesty, "Yes, Princess."




> Not Your Problem
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	18th December, 2013

It's been a week since that apple supplier problem. And what a busy week it's been.

Of course, Applejack wasn't the only one I had to deal with. Apparently a press statement from the Palace isn't enough to satisfy the media; in Ician's words, 'They go after stories like a starving hound goes after food.'

The Gabby Gums incident came to mind.

Mente helped me to organise an official royal announcement for pretty much every news corporation in Equestria, which came with a Civil Service-prepared script packed to the brim with lies for media consumption. It was certainly a lot easier than lying to Applejack, and, having crossed the threshold of deception once before, it is frighteningly easy to do it again.

But behind the curtain of publicity, I'm unbelievably, unreasonably busy. Even though Mente and Ician are effectively taking all the decisions in my stead, there's still a huge mass of recommendations for me to read, papers for me to sign, government conferences to attend... the list goes on. There's hardly any time for rest, either; no sooner have I finished assimilating ten hours' worth of information in ten minutes than the next six stacks of documents are wheeled into the throne room on wheelbarrows.

Today in particular was extremely hectic. On top of all the usual papers there was a file of military intelligence reports, which all say that there's some mass movement of something going on in the forests east of Vanhoover. Mente assured me that there's nothing to worry about, it was probably just a freak chance event, and either way there's nothing we could do about it.

I hope he's right. I'm still vaguely uneasy, though, but for a silly reason. That forest is where the Daring Do series placed the Fortress of Talicon. I mean, I'm not one to believe in anything like that without scientific research and proof, but I just wonder sometimes.

Well, there's no point in thinking about it. Celestia knows I have a hundred better things to worry about!









20th December, 2013

Unbelievable. It seems there's a whole different side to the issue that I wasn't aware of.

Ician came into the throne room early this morning with the latest set of military reports. Apparently - I couldn't believe my ears when I heard this - the entire Daring Do series is not fiction. There is a literal Fortress of Talicon, a literal Ahuizotl, and a very literal and real threat of eight hundred years of unrelenting heat. I thought it was only for the Tenochtitlan Basin, where all of this was happening, but no. Apparently all of Equestria would be affected; a small little factoid that had been removed from the current work-in-progress that was the next instalment.

It was absolutely disastrous. I said as much to Ician. He agreed. Immediately, I sent him off to fetch Mente. We had to discuss this at once.

Soon after, Ician returned with Mente in tow. I waved the reports in his face. "Have you read this?"

He sighed. "Yes, Princess."

"Do you know what this means?"

"Certainly." He started reading off the report in front of him. "It means that recent happenings indicate that the Fortress of Talicon and the Tenochtitlan Basin are under threat of invasion by Ahuizotl, and—"

"I know that." I cut him off. "But do you know what this means?"

He looked at me, confused. "It means that recent happenings indicate that the Fortress of Talicon and the Tenochtitlan Basin—"

"No, no, no!" I grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him frantically. "Equestria is in danger! We have to do something!"

He stared coldly at me. "With all due respect, Princess, we have to do nothing."

I couldn't believe my ears. "What?"

"This is just one of those little problems which start up and die out in a few days." He said. "If you just ignore it-"

"Mente," I began, trying to keep myself calm, "I don't think you realise the magnitude of this. Equestria is in danger."

He rolled his eyes. "Really, Princess, I do think you are making a mountain out of a molehill."

If eight hundred years of unrelenting heat was a molehill, I shudder to imagine what a mountain would be.

"Would Princess Celestia sit idly by and do nothing in a situation like this?" I asked rhetorically.

His response surprised me. "Oh, yes, of course."

"What?" I wasn't sure if I was mishearing him.

"It is the right thing to do, after all." He defended. "See, Discord's brief reign of terror and Nightmare Moon's return resolved themselves within the week."

"I resolved them!" I cried. "My friends and I!"

"Precisely. You, as Princess, no longer need to involve yourself. It is not your problem." He nodded. "Just sit back, and let somepony else take care of it."

"But," I said, "if Princess Celestia had stepped in—"

"It would only have made things worse." He replied. "Take the changeling invasion, for example. The one time in recent history she went against our advice to keep herself out of the thick of it, she was soundly defeated. That's what comes of not listening to the royal advisors."

I was undeterred. "But we have to do something! Doesn't Equestria have a standing military we could send in?"

"Oh, Equestria has a military all right." Mente snorted. "But it's so pathetically small and under-equipped that it wouldn't be of much use in a conflict. The Ministry of Defence has no intention of sending it out on an offensive when it can barely protect Canterlot as it is."

I was surprised. "But it always seemed so well-trained and effective to me."

"I'm glad that was the impression you received, Princess." He replied. "But if the changeling invasion was anything to go by, I hardly think 'effective' is an appropriate descriptor."

Fair enough. But why, then, didn't we have a better army?

"Princess Celestia believed that there were other areas which were more deserving of governmental expenditure." Mente explained. "Education, economy, agriculture..."

That seemed reasonable, but clearly something needed to be done about this crisis, effective military or not. "It's about the principle. We can't sit by and do nothing. What will the ponies think of a leader who doesn't even try to stop eight hundred years of heat?"

"Nothing negative, I assure you." Mente was determined to win the argument. "Besides, as events stand now, the matter is small enough that it is unlikely the public will find out about it."

I sighed, exasperated. "How are you so sure that it won't get worse?"

"Prior experience, of course." He answered with quiet confidence. "How do you think ideas for the other books in the Daring Do series were conceived?"

As certain as he was about the whole issue, it didn't rub off on me. "She's always fought against the odds. Probability dictates that she has to fail sooner or later."

Mente sighs. "I am acutely aware of that fact, Princess. But, be that as it may, there are always alternatives. Cloud cover, for example, would stave off the worst of the heat. And if we could push the efficiency of the Cloudsdale weather factories there would be more snow for use as coolant."

I'm not sure how he understands the term 'unrelenting heat', but I think it's different from my interpretation. 

I attempted to end the meeting by explaining that I intended to see something done, no matter what. Mente countered by offering to set up an committee of enquiry to assess the feasibility of all possible avenues of action so that, in due course, we would be in a position to make the right decisions based on long-term considerations as opposed to rushing prematurely and unwisely into regrettable situations which would ultimately precipitate a less-than-optimal outcome. (His words, not mine.)

I wasn't all that keen on that. It sounded like it would drag on for ages. By which time, of course, the entire threat would be over, whether for better or for worse. I explained that I intended to see something done now.

"Why don't you have a private talk with the Minister of Defence, then?" He suggested. "I'm certain he will provide you with the military's point of view."

"How about the Minister of War?" I asked. "If we're moving soldiers out of the city I ought to consult him too."

Mente looked at me strangely. "Princess, there hasn't been a Ministry of War for centuries now."

"What happened to it?"

"It was renamed the Ministry of Defence."

I ended the conversation by agreeing to speak to the Minister. Mente assured me that he would arrange a meeting with all due haste.

Hopefully I'll have some constructive suggestions soon.









High Councillor Tact Ician recalls:

I remember that day distinctly. It was ingrained quite firmly in my memory. After work, Mente escorted me out of the throne room and cornered me in one of the abandoned corridors. He began by asking how the Princess had gotten ahold of the military reports. I replied that I had given it to her, for it had seemed like something she needed to know.

Immediately, he reprimanded me. "Ician, do you know what you have done? This is a disaster!"

I was confused. With a somewhat apprehensive air, I sought clarification.

"This is not something the Princess needed to know." He explained. "This is only something she wanted to know. Those are two completely separate definitions."

That was a familiar statement, one I had become accustomed to in my days as the Private Secretary to the Minister of Health and Social Security. Nonetheless, I was under the impression that this was only to be applied to Ministers, not the very Princess of the state. I inquired further.

"It is to be applied to the Princess first and foremost," he answered, "and the Ministers second." And then, with a disapproving glare, he continued, "I thought you would already know this."

His voice carried a tone of severe reproof. I remember a growing feeling of dread in my stomach. As High Councillor, Mente had my very future in his hooves. He could raise me to ever-greater heights or condemn me to a fate of mediocrity in a distant place like the Badlands, or the Frozen North, or even downtown Canterlot. Risking his displeasure was akin to playing dice with Death. I had to salvage the situation quickly.

Unfortunately for me, my mouth refused to cooperate. All I was able to do was timidly ask him what he intended to do.

"What do you suggest I do?" was his reply. "You are the Assistant Councillor, after all. It is your job to advise the Princess. I trust you have some advice in mind?"

Not having expected that, I stammered and stuttered for a little bit, only to state the obvious as soon as I recovered. "We should... stop her?"

In a deadpan voice, he replied, "Would you care to give specifics?"

I'd reached a dead end. There was no conceivable way for me to think of a plan on the spot. I could only stare at him with a profoundly guilty look on my face.

The awkward silence stretched on for a minute. Then Mente sighed, shook his head, and departed without another word. I was left alone, with nothing but my heavy breathing and my rapidly beating heart. I told myself not to worry about it, that everything would be alright, but I remember the terror clearly enough to know that I didn't believe myself at the time.









[Ed: It is interesting to contrast High Councillor Ician's account of the event with Mente's private notes, made available in the aftermath of his passing. The relevant passage is recorded here.]

Had a chat with Ician after work. Despite his mistake earlier today with regards to the military documents, he displayed a willingness to admit to his lapse in judgement and sought advice as to how to resolve the situation. Although he has not yet come up with any ideas, I am confident he will do so as soon as he has had a chance to collect his wits.

Nonetheless, national activity must go on, and I am afraid that there is no time to wait for Ician's suggestions. This foolish notion of the Princess' that this situation requires government intervention must be squashed before it can be allowed to grow any further, and to this end I have arranged a meeting with Shield tonight. [Ed: Sir Iron Shield, the Permanent Secretary of the Ministry of Defence.] We will arrange something to educate the Princess about the realities of the situation.

[Ed: We have been unable to recover any records of the meeting referenced in this entry. However, the effects of it can be seen quite clearly in Princess Sparkle's own journal.]









21st December, 2013

I met with the Minister today.

His name is Aegis Slash. He looks like a perfect fit for all the unicorn guardsponies I see around Canterlot - grey-coated, with a stern gaze and proud posture - except that he's so much more muscular. The way he's built looks more like a soldier than a politician. His body was literally bulging with so many muscles that his suit looked like it was having difficulty keeping it all in. When I came into his office, he got up from his seat behind an elegantly carved mahogany wood desk, stood to full attention (a pose I recognise well after spending a lot of time with my BBBFF) and gave me a sharp salute.

I hesitated a little, wondering what to say. "... At ease?" I ventured.

He returned to his relaxed posture and chuckled heartily. "That's correct, Princess," he said in a booming but cordial voice. Really fitting for a soldier. I wonder why he became a Minister.

"Anyway," I said, wanting to confront the issue at hoof as soon as possible, "do you know why I asked to meet you?"

"Yes." His smile faded and he sat back down, motioning me to one of the other cushioned seats in the room. After that, he turned to his right and said, "Turner, I want careful minutes of this meeting."

I wasn't immediately sure whom he was talking to, but then I turned to the right too and realised there had been somepony there all along. He was so unassuming and plain that it was no wonder I hadn't noticed him at first. His brown coat, wings, and suit blended in well with the wallpaper, which didn't help things either.

"Yes, Minister." The pony responded dutifully. Aegis nodded, satisfied, and turned back to me.

"The High Councillor told me that you wanted to send troops out of the city. Right?"

"Right." I confirmed, sitting down on the nearest cushion.

He sighed. "Princess, I must warn you that that would be a poor idea."

As I thought. He was against it, just as Mente had been. "Why?"

"The troops are needed here in Canterlot, Princess." He gestured out of the wide glass window behind him, which gave a really nice view of the entire city. One of the perks of having your office at the pinnacle of one of the highest towers of the castle. "For defence."

"And defending Equestria from eight hundred years of unrelenting heat doesn't count?" I asked.

"Daring Do will take care of it." He stuck firmly to his guns.

Now it was my turn to sigh. I readied myself to give him a lecture on basic probability when he unexpectedly continued, "Besides, there are a lot of other problems right now."

This was news to me. "Problems?"

"Problems." He asserted.

I asked him what kind of problems they were.

"Oh certainly. You see..." He furrowed his brows. "Well, there's, uh..."

So that was it. He was trying to bluff his way out. "There aren't really any problems, are there?" I queried dryly.

"There are problems, Princess. I just don't know what they are." He confessed.

"Then," I demanded, "how do you know there are problems to begin with?"

"My Permanent Secretary told me. But I didn't ask for specifics."

"What?" I was struck with a very distinct sense of surprise. "Why not?"

"I was in the midst of dealing with other important issues." He defended himself. "Military deployment schedules and all that." He then gestured to a stack of papers on the table that was quite literally taller than he was. It was swaying unsteadily, as if it was going to topple over at any moment.

"Alright then." I answered, sitting back. It seemed like I really had to dig straight down to the root of this problem if I wanted to get anything done. "I'd like to talk to your Permanent Secretary. Is he free right now?"

"He will be, Princess, if it is your wish." Aegis promised. "Turner, go and fetch Shield for me, will you?"

"Yes Minister." Turner replied, and without another word strode past me and out the door. I wonder if he ever says anything else.

That left me and Aegis alone in the room. We sat in awkward silence for about thirty seconds before I decided to at least try to make conversation. I was wondering if I should, because, as if the silence wasn't enough, Aegis was squirming uncomfortably in his seat and his eyes shifted from side to side, as if my very presence was causing him physical discomfort.

I cleared my throat. "Will your Permanent Secretary be here soon, or should I go get us some tea?"

I think I may have messed up slightly, because at once Aegis stood up, and assured me that it wouldn't be long, there would be no need for tea, and even if there was a need for tea he would take care of it for me. I didn't know what to say to that other than an unsure "Uh, thanks", followed by another period of silence.

Thankfully, and to what I think was both our great reliefs, the door swung open at that moment. Turner and another pony, a white unicorn stallion, stepped into the room. The new pony bowed deeply to me and Aegis. "Princess. Minister."

Turner piped up. "Sir Iron is here, Minister." He announced unnecessarily.

"Thank you, Turner," was Aegis' reply. I muttered a similar phrase of appreciation, but it wasn't Turner I was interested in at that moment.

"Iron?" I addressed the new unicorn.

He winced slightly. "With the greatest possible respect, Princess, I'd appreciate it if you could address me by my last name."

I guess everyone here really doesn't want to be on a first-name basis - or maybe it's just me. "Alright, Shield," I conceded, more determined to resolve this problem than make friends. "You're the Permanent Secretary for this department, right?"

"Yes, I am." He answered.

"Alright, good." I confronted him with the question Aegis hadn't been able to answer: Namely, what problems were there that required the troops to stay behind in Canterlot?

He decided to begin with a disclaimer. "Well, you understand, Princess, that I don't have the files with me, so I do not remember these issues in very great depth."

That was reasonable, of course, and either way I didn't need to know everything. I only needed to know enough to think of a creative solution. I asked him to continue.

"Very well. Reports from the EIB - sorry, the Equestrian Intelligence Bureau - indicate the possibility of a resurgent changeling presence. Apparently some... incidents have occurred along the northern border, which the EIB hasn't been very willing to elaborate on as it is a matter of great national security, and they want to reduce the risk of leaks. I'm sure you will agree that such a danger warrants as high a level of protection as possible."

I really couldn't disagree with that. So I tried a different angle. "But surely we can afford to move troops out for just a little while? I mean, the changelings aren't going to attack tomorrow, are they?"

"You never know, Princess." Shield answered cautiously. "They caught us by surprise last time. Who's to say they don't have another agent on the inside already? Since the shield was lowered a while ago, they've had the ability to install another spy for some time now."

I must say, that shook me quite a bit. "You mean, we could be in trouble right now?"

"Lady Weed Plant assures me that there are no infiltrators of any sort at the moment." He must have noticed the confused look on my face, because he explained, "Lady Plant is the head of the EIB. She's also in charge of counter-spying measures, and has exercised the full extent of the EIB's ability to weed out any potential traitors."

I relaxed earlier than I should have. "So we're safe then." I said. It wasn't a question, but apparently it wasn't a fact either.

"Well... no system is foolproof," he said.

I gulped.

"Anyway," he continued decisively, "now that you realise the precariousness of the situation, could we please abandon the idea of sending troops out of the city?"

"Not quite yet," I argued. "Of course a changeling invasion is serious business, but eight hundred years of unrelenting heat isn't anything to laugh about either. We have to do something about it."

"I'm sorry, but we just don't have the resources to do so. I'm afraid that the Minister simply can't recommend such a course of action."

"Actually," Aegis began, "I can see some truth in her—"

Shield cut him off. "In the interests of the Ministry and the citizens of Canterlot, the action you propose cannot be taken, Princess."

"But—" Aegis tried to intervene again. This really aroused my suspicions.

"Minister." Shield said harshly. "I must please ask you to place the interests of the nation before that of... certain individuals, important as the latter may be."

This caught me off guard, and evidently Aegis was caught off guard too. "What?!" He rose immediately from his seat and jabbed an accusatory hoof at his Permanent Secretary. "What do you mean? Are you accusing me of corruption?"

"Not at all." Shield said smoothly. "I fully understand your wishes to support the Princess and her interests in whatever way you can, but ultimately loyalty must give way to logic, don't you agree?"

Aegis deflated. "... Oh."

"The changelings will take advantage of the circumstances," Shield said, "to overwhelm our weakened defence force and occupy the capital, which would be a crushing blow to Equestria as a whole and the morale of our armed forces. Surely you can see that this is not in the greater interests of the nation."

"Can they do that, though?" I questioned. "Capture Canterlot just like that?"

"As you recall, Princess, they've done it once before, effectively. There should be no doubt of their ability to do so again, given ample preparation time." And then, with the verbal equivalent of a master swordspony's flourish when they've won the round, he said, "I rest my case."

I couldn't say much in rebuttal. All those points were completely valid and, in fact, I was beginning to be swayed on the issue myself. It was pretty obvious that there was a strong argument on the other side.

Shield looked at me, apparently concerned. "Are you alright, Princess? You've been rather silent."

I shook myself out of my reverie and forced a smile. "I'm alright, thanks for asking. Though I think I've heard all I needed to hear. Thank you for your time, everypony." And then I left.

So what does this mean, then? Is there really no way to help Daring Do? I mean, clearly there are problems that we have to face, but that's what life is all about. Overcoming problems. And I'm the Princess - if I can't overcome such a serious problem, how could I possibly be fit to rule Equestria? Or maybe there just aren't any solutions, and I'm wasting my time worrying over nothing...

I feel so disheartened. Maybe some sleep will make me feel better. I'm praying that it will.









22nd December 2013

Woke up feeling awful. Not physically, but emotionally. It wasn't a feeling of sadness so much as one of depression. Helplessness isn't a feeling that keeps you warm at night.

At least today was a Sunday, which meant a day off. That was something I didn't think Princesses had the liberty to enjoy. However, as Ician explained to me when I got to the throne room, having a day off for the upper echelons of government actually just meant a slower day and a more relaxed dress code. So I got to take off all that heavy regalia and work with nothing on, like I used to back in Ponyville.

I wasn't feeling any less depressed, though, and disconsolately I said as much to Ician. Perhaps the fact that Mente was away for an official meeting about the Ahuizotl crisis with the Permanent Secretaries of the other Ministries made me feel worse - after yesterday's discussion with Aegis and Shield I already knew, in essence, what the conclusion would be. The whole inevitability weighed down on me, and I couldn't take it. Though in hindsight I suppose Mente's absence was a blessing.

To my surprise, however, Ician looked cautiously around the throne room, as if making sure we were alone. Which we were, today, since it was Sunday. Then he turned back to me and murmured in a low voice, "Is it because of the Ahuizotl problem, Princess?"

I nodded mutely.

"I heard you had a meeting yesterday. If I could ask you to share the details with me?"

So I did. It took me a good while to explain everything that had happened, but by the end of it I managed to make sure Ician was fully informed of everything important. Also a few less important things, but I'm sure he appreciated the extra spice on the story.

He frowned contemplatively as soon as I'd finished the entire tale. "I thought something like this might have happened," he said mysteriously, and then asked me, "So this is why you're feeling depressed? Because there doesn't seem to be a way to solve the problem?"

I nodded again. The proverbial light at the end of the tunnel began to draw into view. Something about how Ician used the phrase 'doesn't seem to be' instead of the much more definitive 'isn't' implied that maybe there was hope after all.

He didn't disappoint. He asked if he could speak frankly, and I said yes.

"To be completely honest, Princess, Mente and the other Permanent Secretaries are against your proposition."

I knew that already, of course, but I voiced the hope that I could win them over to my side, if my arguments were strong enough.

Ician shook his head. "No, Princess, they are dead set against it. No matter what points you come up with, they will simply come up with even more counter-points."

"But, doesn't having points to counter mine show that my argument is still flawed?" I asked.

"Almost every argument is 'flawed' in a sense, especially when it comes to a course of action." He explained. "There will always be a certain risk factor involved, and with the proper manipulation of words and distortion of the truth any risk can be made to seem greater than it actually is - great enough to 'prove' whatever proposal is being pushed forward too iffy. This is how the Civil Service and Royal Court win their arguments."

I began to realise why Ician was looking around cautiously earlier. "It's very bold of you to admit this, Ician."

"Better for me to be bold than you to be clueless, Princess." I like him. He's a good pony.

"But why are they dead set against it, then?" I queried. For once, I was getting useful answers to my questions, and I wasn't about to waste the opportunity.

"Because it could set a dangerous precedent for governmental intervention," he said. "In the past, it has been standard practice to assign the Elements of Harmony to combat any threats that might arise, rather than relying unnecessarily on national resources. However, since your ascension, the Palace has been searching for a new WMH to take the place of the Elements."

"WMH?"

"Weapon of Mass Harmonisation. Discord was apparently put forward as a possible candidate, but given his past track record, and the fact that in the Princesses' absence he has become somewhat unpredictable, the Royal Court rejected him as a possibility. As far as I am aware, we have not yet found a suitable replacement."

And then it hit me. "Wait, that's it!" I stood up excitedly, having finally found a solution. I began to pace up and down the room. It was all beginning to fall into place. "I'll go myself! No need for any troop movements or anything like that. I'll contact the others in Ponyville as soon as I can and—"

Ician reluctantly interrupted me. "... I'm sorry, Princess, but I'm afraid you can't do that either. For security reasons you're not allowed to travel without an escort."

"All the better then." I countered. "The escort can help me defeat Ahuizotl."

"But that does still leave the problem of a vulnerable Canterlot." He reasoned. "At the moment, your very presence here is a deterrent against invasion. You have a reputation for defeating enemies of the state. If you were to depart for any length of time, I fear the changelings might see it as an opportunity to strike. If indeed there is a threat, which there may not be. But is that a risk worth taking?"

"I guess not." I sighed. The excitement left me when the hope did, and I slumped back onto the floor.

Then Ician coughed. I almost asked him if he was feeling alright, but then he coughed again and I realised he was trying to draw my attention.

"Yes?"

"Princess," he said slowly, "if I may make a suggestion?"

I sat up, immediately alert. "A suggestion?"

"Yes." He hesitated briefly. "However, I am giving you this suggestion in the strictest confidence. I must ask you to claim the idea as your own, if anypony asks."

It took me a moment to realise the full weight of what he was saying. "Don't worry, I can keep a secret."

"Thank you." He licked his lips tentatively, apparently trying to overcome one last bit of reluctance, and then launched straight into the explanation. "You are right, Princess. I urge you to request an official visit to Vanhoover, and bring with you the usual escort. I will ensure you have a free slot during the relevant days."

"But Canterlot," I protested halfway. I soon learned, though, that I shouldn't have underestimated him.

"Invite Captain Shining Armour from the Crystal Empire. It will be an official event, so everypony will know that he will be here. You can leave Canterlot then, and the Crystal Empire will still be guarded with the full extent of its forces."

I was impressed. This did seem to cover all the bases. All but one. "But won't Mente and the other Permanent Secretaries protest anyway?"

"They will." Ician admitted. "They won't stand for you taking care of something yourself. As Mente said before, past events indicate that Princesses going straight into the thick of it don't last long. There will be opposition."

"Then what do I do?"

"Force their collective hoof." He poked at the ground awkwardly, clearly more than a little bit uncomfortable about what he was going to say. And really, he was entitled to be. He was going against the will of his boss - well, his other boss that wasn't me, anyway - to tell me something he didn't need to tell me. For his sake, I felt obliged to wait patiently for him to continue.

"... You must threaten to disclose the details of the crisis to the public," he finally said. "Mente wants to keep it a secret as far as possible, since if you reveal it you can also reveal that we - or more accurately, the Royal Court and Civil Service - are doing nothing about it. In that scenario, the only course would then be to relent in the face of public pressure and take governmental action, fulfilling your aim."

"Will that work for sure, though?" I wondered. "I'm not sure how much Mente cares about his public image, or lack thereof, since I doubt many ponies have heard of him. I know I certainly didn't, not before becoming Princess."

"Perhaps." Ician conceded. "But the Ministers, as the public faces of their Ministries, will comply out of fear. None of them would dare to oppose your departure from Canterlot to solve the crisis. And in the end, the consent of the permanent officials is secondary to the consent of the Ministers, since the former group is nominally supposed to execute the will of the latter group, regardless of their own private reservations."

By this time, I was simultaneously amazed and shocked. "Please don't take offense to this, Ician, your plan is ingenious, but... is this the only way? Is forcing Mente to obey me the only way to do what needs to be done?"

"... I cannot answer that in clear conscience." Ician replied guardedly. "But if the High Councillor disagrees with you, there is almost no chance of you convincing him to change his stance. For that matter, the same is true of almost any Permanent Secretary, and indeed many in the Civil Service. No change was ever made without blood, sweat and tears, and government policy is no different."

It was as I feared. "So I'll always have to fight him if I want to change things?"

Ician gave me a very solemn look. "Change is not always good, Princess. The status quo exists for a reason, even if not always the right one."

I suppose he has a point. But in any case, I can't think so far into the future when I have an immediate problem that needs solving. I asked Ician to add a one-hour meeting with Mente to my schedule tomorrow.

One way or another, this will all be over soon.









23rd December, 2013

I stayed up late last night, preparing a little checklist for today's meeting with Mente. I didn't want to have all the points I needed to make only to forget them when I was supposed to actually say them. At last, I felt totally ready to tackle the problem head-on and win.

Ician came to wake me up today instead of Blossom, ostensibly because he wanted to talk with me one last time before the confrontation. Surprisingly, he'd scheduled the meeting first thing in the morning, which gave me even less time to prepare, but he explained that Mente would be similarly unprepared. Also, getting it out of the way first wouldn't let it prey on my mind during the rest of the day.

Come to think of it, that last point was critically important. Ician might not have known, but I'm only too familiar with what happens if I get overly stressed.

The day moved quickly. As soon as I'd gotten ready for the day, heavy regalia and all, I went straight to the throne room. Ician's presence beside me made me feel a little more confident, even though I knew that he probably wouldn't help me when it came to blows. Well, metaphorical blows, anyway.

I got to the throne room five minutes early, and on Ician's advice passed the time by watching the clock. The instant when the second hand hit the twelve mark, five minutes later, the double doors swung open and Mente stepped in. I must admit that that was pretty impressive, but I had no time to compliment him on his impeccable timing. And really, neither did I want to.

"Mente." I began, in what I hoped was a deceptively welcoming tone. "Thanks for taking the trouble to meet me."

"The pleasure is entirely mine, Princess," he answered promptly, though the suspicious expression on his face and his cautious posture said otherwise. "But of course you didn't call me for a chat. May I suggest that we skip past the pleasantries and come straight to the issue?"

I turned slightly to Ician with a questioning gaze, wondering if he'd revealed to Mente what the meeting was to be about - in other words, did Mente know what I was going to surprise him with? Ician shook his head almost imperceptibly, but then again, whether or not he knew what question he was supposed to be answering was a different issue.

"Yeah, we'd better not waste too much time." I held my notes in front of me, in a nice spot near my chest that let me make eye contact with Mente but disallowed him the luxury of seeing what I'd written. "So anyway, I wanted to talk to you about the Ahuizotl problem."

"Oh." His face darkened. "Pardon my asking, Princess, but did you not already resolve this issue yesterday with the Minister of Defence?"

"I talked about it with him, yes, but since then I've been thinking." I glanced briefly at my notes. "I came up with a few new points, and I wanted to have your opinion on them."

"I see." It was a lot more subtle than before, but I think he relaxed a little. Definitely not very much, though. "Well, I am always your humble servant. What are the points you want me to look over?"

I asked him if the possibility of the changeling invasion was a very serious problem. He paused, eyed me strangely, and confirmed that yes, that was indeed a big problem.

Then I hit him with my plan. "I propose that we extend an official invitation to Canterlot to my BB— I mean, my brother, in the Crystal Empire. For as long as he stays here we should be safe. I don't think he'll fall for the same trick this time, and either way I've got all of you in the Civil Service and Royal Court to keep an eye out for him, now that we all know the dangers involved."

"Princess, you can't do that," was his immediate response.

"What?" I asked, perplexed. "Why not?"

"Well, um..." He paused, thinking it over. "... Actually, I suppose you can do that."

"Good." I continued. "And since Canterlot is safe, I should be able to schedule an official visit to Trottingham and solve the Ahuizotl problem along the way, right?"

If he had been drinking any sort of drink at that moment he probably would have spit it out all over the floor. As it was, he had to settle for an awkward sputtering as he tried to get all the surprise out of his system.

"Princess," he eventually gasped, eyes wide, "you can't do that!"

"That's what you said just now." I reminded him.

"Yes, but this time you really can't," he insisted.

"Okay, why?"

"We cannot put you in danger. That's inconceivable! I assure you that no one will support your course of action, in your interests and that of the nation."

"I'm the Element of Magic." I countered. "The Elements of Harmony are the best weapons we have to defeat Ahuizotl."

"Not necessarily, Princess." He shook his head. "You forget about the Radiant Shield of Rasdon."

"It won't mean anything if Ahuizotl gets a hold of the Rings of Scorcherro. Their dark enchantments can break through the Shield!" I argued.

"But they've been divided and sequestered away in the four corners of Tenochtitlan." He reminded me. It was a valid point. I very quickly sneaked a peek at my notes and then returned to the conversation, confident again.

"Ah, but the reports Ician gave me a few days ago said that there was a danger that Ahuizotl would invade the Fortress of Talicon. The only way that could be was if he'd already acquired the Rings, or was about to acquire them." I was close to checkmate, I thought, which gave me an odd sense of both relief and regret.

"But then all we would need to achieve is custody of the Rings. The Elements of Harmony aren't needed," he said, anxious. I was quite clearly winning; he'd started arguing about how I ought to do it rather than whether I should do it or not. I wondered whether or nor I should keep pressing on, but then Ician gave his own two cents.

"High Councillor," he began, "I think the Princess is concerned about the secrecy issue. If she were to visit Trottingham now, it would effectively justify a military presence in the area, thus ensuring that this incident remains confidential. It also keeps the option of using the Elements of Harmony open, in the very worst case scenario."

"Well, perhaps... but the risk is still too great." I must give credit where credit is due; despite everything he'd been faced with up till now, Mente still stuck firmly to his guns. "I cannot allow you to do this, Princess. I cannot. And the troops cannot go either, since you cannot."

I sighed. Looks like I had to pull out my trump card after all, if I wanted him to cooperate. "Oh dear," I said, "in that case I ought to warn the citizens of Trottingham about this, shouldn't I? They need to know what's at risk, after all. If Ahuizotl succeeds they'll be the first to be threatened."

Mente flinched. "You can't do that."

"I must." I replied. "It's my job as a Princess to protect my subjects." I paused, then added, "Or is that wrong?"

He dodged the question. "It is your job to ensure the continuance of government. What will the Palace and Equestria do if you don't return from your visit?"

I pointed out that Princess Celestia and Princess Luna could take care of it, if it came to that. I know Mente was just concerned for my safety, but he was treating me like I couldn't take care of myself. To him I could have been fifteen years younger for all it would matter.

"The point is," I said impatiently, "that either I release the news or I go there myself. Something must be done, and I will make sure of that one way or another."

He tried a final plea. "Please, Princess. Daring Do will take care of it, this is not your problem!" For the very first time since I'd known him he actually shouted. Granted, it wasn't particularly loud or anything, but something inside me kind of wilted to see his composure falling through the floor. But I pressed on anyway.

"No." I answered. "Enough, Mente. It's one or the other. What do you think?"

He finally fell silent. I could almost see the gears turning in his head. But was it turning the way I wanted it to? Would he come up with something neither Ician nor I had anticipated? The anticipation in the room was immense, and I didn't realise it at the time but I was holding my breath.

And then, all at once, it finally came crashing down. "... Very well." Mente said at last, deciding to do the verbal equivalent of a surrender flourish so complex and elaborate one had to wonder exactly what it was supposed to mean. "Were I to be given the decision to select one of these two options I feel that the former would be effective to a greater degree in achieving your stated aims as opposed to the latter."

"I'm sorry?" I asked.

There was a long pause. "I shall arrange your visit to Trottingham."

"Thank you," I nodded, satisfied. "When?"

"As soon as the requisite procedures have been completed."

"I mean, yes, but... when, exactly?" I questioned. "Like, what day?"

"Well, taking a point of view relevant to the present juncture, as far as we can see, looking at it by and large, and in the final analysis it would probably not put too large a strain on the semantic nature of the Equish language to conclude that there must be further consideration in the matter in order to warrant an appropriate response. Perhaps an interdepartmental committee—"

My head was spinning from trying to understand all of that - again, I owe Ician greatly for letting me refer to his detailed minutes - but the moment I heard the words 'interdepartmental committee' I realised what was going on. "No, Mente! I need a deadline!"

"But, Princess—"

"Two days!" I quickly said. "Don't bother about all the ceremony and everything, I just need an small, basic entourage. That's all. Two days should be enough, right?"

"With all due respect," he tried again, but I wouldn't have any of it.

"Or else I make the announcement about Ahuizotl," I threatened.

"... Two days it is." He capitulated.

And it ended, just like that. Funny, I thought it would be more... dramatic? I guess I've been reading too much Daring Do. But of course, that's all romanticised. The classic story of a hero saving the world. That's her story, but... what about mine? Am I the hero, or am I the villain? Is what I'm doing right, or should I really just be leaving things as they are? I mean, like Ician said, there has to be a reason why they're this way, mustn't there? Why am I asking so many questions I can't answer?

Well, what's done is done. I may as well feel happy that I actually won. Even if I'm not sure if that's a good thing.









[Ed: Mente's private notes reveal that after the events of that day, he and Ician met for a discussion of the morning's meeting. Not only does it shed some light on later happenings, it also gives unique insight into the role an Assistant Councillor plays in guiding and advising the Princess.]

An absolutely disastrous discussion today with the Princess. I have no idea how she managed to do it, but somehow she did. Either she's smarter than I originally gave her credit for or somepony is helping her behind the scenes. I highly suspect the latter, and I think I know who is responsible. I must speak with Apple Bee tomorrow about keeping track of the locations of his old Minister more closely.

In any case, there's no point crying over spilt milk. Clearly something must be done to show the Princess the error of her ways, even if there's no stopping her plan. And Ician has come to me with a brilliant idea.

He approached me after work, most fittingly in the same corner where we talked about his oversight three days ago. He mentioned a desire to redeem himself and suggested that we fix the problem before the two days were up, thus leading the Princess to believe that her actions were in vain, and possibly also leading her to dismiss such interventionist notions in the future. I noted that such an act was rather a tall order, but he had a solution for that too: enlist the aid of Discord.

This seemed, on the face of it, an unworkable proposition. Discord was too much of a wild card to rely on. But then Ician reminded me of his strong friendship with the Element of Kindness, and that the Princess' plan was to use the Elements of Harmony to defeat Ahuizotl, thus putting all six of them in danger...

I have a feeling Discord will come around.









High Councillor Ician recalls:

My two-sided behaviour during the Ahuizotl incident may seem strange to the non-governmentally inclined reader. In order to clarify the situation, I should probably first explain what the duties of a Principal Private Secretary (PPS) were in the average Ministry.

The job of the PPS was to serve both his Minister and the Permanent Secretary of his Department, the former as his political master and the latter as his Civil Service master. In theory this presented no problem, since the Permanent Secretary himself was supposed to carry out the wishes of his Minister, regardless of what he himself believed or thought. But as this was rarely the case in practice, the PPS' situation could perhaps be said to be the best example of a balancing act - providing that it was done successfully, of course. On the one hoof, they had to comply with the demands of their Minister, but on the other they could not work against the interests of the Permanent Secretary. Not overtly, at least. Walking the tightrope of the Private Secretary involved the betrayal of confidences and trust without the other side finding out; always a difficult and sometimes downright undoable task.

Hence it has been pointed out, usually by those not intimately familiar with the system that has been in place for centuries, that simultaneously serving two sides that are usually at loggerheads is a singularly impossible task. And that may well be true, except we in the Civil Service are expected to do the impossible. Therefore, it is standard practice to assign high flyers - that is, those with great potential - to the position of PPS for a while. Those who succeed at the great balancing act are almost certainly destined for the top of the Civil Service.

Now, back to the topic of the Assistant Councillor. Although the title is vastly different from that of the PPS, at the end of the day it is widely acknowledged that in practice, the Assistant Councillor is nothing more than a higher-ranking Private Secretary. The similarities are striking; the Assistant Councillor is also beholden to the High Councillor and the Princess, who are again also often at odds. My task at the time, therefore, was to do the same balancing act as the Private Secretaries, but on a much larger and weightier scale.

Most Private Secretaries could afford to make mistakes every now and then. The post was, after all, more of a application test for a job than the actual job, so it was understandable if they erred every now and then so long as the consequences weren't too great. But for the Assistant Councillor, the stakes are raised, so much so that consequences are severe more often than not. Thus I, as the Assistant Councillor, could afford to make at most zero irreparable mistakes before I was sent away to downtown Canterlot.

Was it impossible to be perfect? Maybe. But we in the Civil Service are expected to do the impossible.

[Ed: The journal continues.]









25th December, 2013

No time at all to write yesterday. Not that there was anything particularly important, anyway. But today was worth the time to write about, partly because there are fewer royal duties in Vanhoover and partly because I feel have to get this all off my chest.

Before I set out to Vanhoover, I sent a message to my friends, telling them all about the Ahuizotl problem and asking them to meet me at the forest with their Elements. They said yes, of course - how could they not? - and so it was all settled. I felt prepared, confident, and for the first time like I'd already overcome the hardest part of the challenge even though the real thing had yet to come. So I was in pretty high spirits, and it lasted all the way until... well, until a few hours ago.

I thought I would arrive at the forest earlier than the others, seeing as I had a pegasus carriage and all. But between starting off later, being bagged down by an entourage, and the limited ceremony of my arrival, they managed to get there first. Not only get there first, but fix the entire problem, without the Elements or any soldiers. Just Daring Do's help.

I talked to them about it, and apparently they owe their success to a series of fortunate events. Stones falling on the right heads, vines growing on the floor in just the perfect pattern to trip up all of Ahuizotl's henchmen, the wind blowing nicely right into their faces to blind them while Daring Do and Rainbow removed the largest Ring of Scorcherro, et cetera. Everyone got out of it with only some minor scrapes and bruises except Fluttershy, who miraculously came out of it completely unscathed. And even more serendipitously, it seems it was a real confidence-booster for her too - she played a huge part in Staring down the henchmen who weren't incapacitated.

I'm happy for them, of course, and all of Equestria as well. Saving everypony from eight hundred years of unrelenting heat couldn't possibly be bad. But now I can't help but feel pointless. Sure, maybe I got the government moving in the end, but that didn't actually get anything done, did it? My friends were perfectly capable of resolving everything by themselves. Not to mention it isn't even me who deserves the credit for pushing Mente and the others to action; it was all Ician's idea.

So I've come up with a new hypothesis. Taking into account the history of Equestria since its formation, I couldn't help but notice the disproportionately high number of victories of the 'good guys', so to speak. In fact, almost every conflict up till now has resulted in the triumph of good. Nightmare Moon, Discord, Sombra, Chrysalis, and so on.

Another notable point? In most instances since Luna's return, the Princesses have played, at best, a passive role in the resolution of crises. Up until now it's mostly been us, the Elements of Harmony, and the power of love during the changeling invasion. It's all comparable to a storybook, really: good always wins, and the heroes save the day.

But now the Court is looking for a new WMH. So maybe my time in the limelight is up, and I have to yield the floor to the next generation. My duty now is to run the kingdom and make sure it's still around for the heroes to actually save, not to try and save it myself. The time for that is long gone, now.

Do I believe it? Normally I wouldn't. But after the past few days... I don't know anymore. All I know now is my duty: to rule Equestria. And by Celestia I'm going to get it right. No status quo or uncooperative ponies are going to keep me back. It's all fine and good for them to debate the factors at hoof, but at the end of the day I have to take everything they say with a pinch of salt, if what Ician tells me about them is true.

No matter what happens, I will make the right decision. I will, and I must. And when I do, I don't want to hear any more whining or protests. No more.

All I want to hear is a single, resounding, 'Yes, Princess.'





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

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

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









27th December 2013

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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









28th December 2013

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Pretends?" I asked.

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

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

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

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

His smile faded. "Your Councillors?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

This took me aback. "Um, sure."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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









29th December 2013

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Such as?"

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

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

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

"But—"

"Please." He pleaded.

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

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

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









High Councillor Ician recalls:

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

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

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

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









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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[Ed: The journal continues.]









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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Okay, what are they?" I questioned.

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

"Are they currently considered a part of salary?"

"Well... not at the moment."

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

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

"Are those currently considered a part of salary?"

"Ah... not quite."

"Is that a no?"

"Yes and no," he replied helpfully.

I asked him what that was supposed to mean.

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

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

"Do you really want my answer?"

"I do. What is it?"

"Yes and no." He remarked obligingly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Please, your highness."

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

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

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

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

"Come again?" I asked.

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

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

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

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

"Yes Princess," he said quickly.

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









High Councillor Tact Ician recalls:

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

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

Memorandom
29th December

From: Assistant Councillor Ician
To: Official Documents Archive Management

Dear Management,

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

1. That the floor be swept and the dust cleaned off the shelves, lest Princess Sparkle realises that the Archive is not a permanent winter biome.
2. That all the waste bins be emptied, all the tissue paper be picked off the ground, and all the tear-stained furniture removed.
3. That the staff of the Archive ensure that they look presentable during the Princess' visit. Cutting down on alcohol intake and frequency of grief-induced breakdowns is recommended.

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

- Ician









30th December 2013

High Councillor Ician recalls:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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









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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"To avoid the crowd," he said simply.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I can do it myself," I insisted.

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

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

"Um..." Ician hesitated.

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

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

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

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

I blinked. "Sit through what?"

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

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

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

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

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

"Excuse me?"

"Never mind."

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

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

"Yes, Princess."

"This is everything we have on salary?"

"This year's, yes."

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

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

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

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

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









31st December 2013

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

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

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

"I will." I replied.

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

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

"Princess..." He pleaded.

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

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

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









High Councillor Ician recalls:

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

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

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

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

I asserted that I was completely sure of every detail.

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

I nodded.

"And she specifically rejected an escort?"

"Yes," I confirmed.

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

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

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

Nodding in agreement, I waited for him to continue.

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

I questioned him about his intentions.

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

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









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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[Ed: The journal continues.]









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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Of which there are dozens," he interjected.

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

He gave a silent nod.

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

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

"What? Why not?" I asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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









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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Even by Royal edict?"

"Indeed."

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

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

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

"That is the plan, yes, Princess."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"How?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"My point still stands," he said stubbornly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Princess?" Apple Bee asked.

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

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

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

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

"Yes, Princess," they repeated.

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

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

Today was a success, I think.

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









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

Tonight was a good night.









1st January 2014

High Councillor Tact Ician recalls:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"'Is'?" I questioned.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"'Another'?" I inquired.

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

[Ed: The journal continues.]








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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"... Yes?" I ventured.

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

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

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

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

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

"Who do you trust, then?"

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

"Yes, but... who?"

"You and the High Councillor."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Ician, I didn't mean—"

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

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

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

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

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

I suppose every now and then some lies are worth telling.
> Flames, Games, and Cruel Names: 3rd January 2014
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	The Equestria Games are coming up. I keep getting letters from my friends asking me to come along with them. I think I'll actually be able to make it, since it's part of my Princessly duties too. It's nice to see that title getting me something I actually want for once. I'll need to remember to ask Ician later to save my friends a few seats beside mine.

More importantly, I spoke to Fancy yesterday.

He wasn't allowed to leave his room, of course. He was technically under house arrest. But I was allowed to visit him... or rather they couldn't stop me from visiting him. The commander of the three guards posted outside his room, though, insisted that I be accompanied by an armed escort. I gave him a flat 'no' seven times before he finally stopped insisting, and even then he stood stubbornly in front of the door before I gently nudged him aside and walked in anyway.

The room was noticeably more sparse than mine was. I was staying in Princess Celestia's room, true, so it was no surprise that the guest rooms didn't match up to the level of splendor, but I guess it was just a little jarring after staying in her room for as long as I had. Plus this place had only one bookshelf. One. And it had just six books on it.

Fancy was sitting on the bed, absorbed in the seventh and probably only other book in that room. He looked up as I walked in, and as the commander behind me tried to push his way into the room and got a closed door as his reward.

"Hello, Twilight," he said warmly.

I didn't want to beat around the bush. I was tired enough of all of that nonsense. I just asked him, very bluntly, "Fancy, can I trust you?"

He blinked, apparently speechless, as Ician had said he would be. "Princess, what brought this on?"

"I had a talk with Ician."

"Ician, Ician..." he mused. I occurred to me only then I hadn't actually introduced Fancy to Ician yet. "Ah, right, Tact Ician. PPS of the MHSS, right?"

"The, uh... the what now?" I asked, a little sheepish. If Fancy was giving me acronyms, it meant that I should probably know them.

"Oh, sorry about that," he said. "I forgot that you haven't been here quite long enough to pick up on all the Palace lingo. PPS stands for a Principal Private Secretary, and MHSS stands for the Ministry of Health and Social Security."

"Ah, I know what those are," I said, with perhaps just a little too much pride. I still hadn't learnt the difference between a Principal Private Secretary and a regular one, but I wasn't about to look any stupider than I already did. I'll ask Ician some other time.

"So... that's what Ician is, is it?"

"Yes," I answered firmly. "Wait, no, hold on. He's my Assistant Councillor, not a Principal Private Secretary."

"Ah, so that's what he is now," Fancy observed. "When I was in office, he used to be in Health and Social Security. I suppose he's climbed the ladder since then."

"Well, yes," I said, momentarily forgetting what I'd been asking. After a few moments of awkwardness, I remembered what I was saying and pressed on. "He said that I shouldn't trust you."

"Ah," Fancy replied. "What was his reasoning?"

"That I don't know what your motives are."

"You don't know my motives?" He chuckled jovially. "Twilight, I'm just here to help you. The Palace is a free-for-all, it won't be easy to survive without somepony who knows the ropes."

"That's it?" I asked. "You're just here to help me?"

"Well..." He 'hmm'ed. "I've always wanted to change a few things in government. Not that it's for me to say, of course; I'm just here for advice. Ultimately, it's up to you whether you want to accept or reject my ideas."

My instincts told me to trust him and accept it at face value, but my inner cynic was strong enough to push back. "So you'll only be advising me? That's all?"

"That's all," he stated. "I have no power here, Princess. This is your domain. The domain of the Princess. Lately it's been a playground for the Civil Service, and that's what I want to help you change... but only if you'll accept me and trust what I'm saying. It doesn't mean you have to agree with everything I say. It just means you have to be willing to listen to me, that's all."

So basically, he was telling me that the whole point was moot - I didn't need to trust him at all. That actually made me trust him more. He had no power, no authority, and he didn't even need to have my trust. What else could he be trying to do, other than help me?

"I trust you," I said. "Do you have any advice for me now?"

"None that I can think of at the moment. Not in particular," he said. "There's the Equestria Games, at least. I expect there will be, and have been, a lot of sponsorship offers. All those companies wanting to get their advertisements in the big stadium." He chuckled. "I'm guilty of that, too. Or at least Fancy Co. is. I'm fairly certain there's a lot of Palace activity going on behind the scenes to deal with the sponsorship applications, but you won't hear a word of it."

"What?" I asked, taken aback. Were they hiding more things from me? "Why not?"

"I'm sure they're afraid of a repeat of the whole nepotism scandal from when you took office." He gave me a wide smile. "I knew when I read it that it was just another Civil Service machination. Nopony who knew you would actually believe that."

"Heh heh, eh. Of course not. That'd be just... dumb." I tried to smile the most sincere smile I could. I'm not entirely sure if he bought it, but he didn't say anything about it.

"That just goes to show what rumours can do, even if unfounded," he said. "Information, both true and false, is the most powerful weapon in the Palace. You can't do battle without it."

"But I'm the Princess," I pointed out. "I have all the power."

"You have the most authority, but the least information," he explained. "Because of that, you're impotent. You can't do anything if you don't know anything."

He was right. I've had to deal with only three problems since I got here; the apple supplier problem, the Ahuizotl incident, and the ludicrous Palace pay. I guess I was lucky that I even heard about them to begin with. I get the impression I only heard about the Ahuizotl incident because of Ician's loyalty, and even that wasn't enough to get him to tell me about pay.

Speaking of the pay, I still hadn't resolved that one yet. I put the question forward to Fancy: What should I do about it?

"... Nothing yet, Princess, if at all," he answered slowly. "In all truthfulness, I doubt this is something we can fully eliminate. I don't even think we'd be able to put a dent in it. They're crafty... or at least the Civil Service is. When I used to work here, I tried to do what you want to now."

"How did that turn out?"

"I found three hundred and fifty-four obstacles on the statute books." He shrugged. "They've been working through the centuries, it's nothing we'll be able to undo in weeks. Ultimately, you win some and you lose some, Twilight. We've got other battles to fight. Maybe one day we can come back to this and actually solve it. For now..." he quietened down and mulled. "... For now, I think you should make sure you know what's happening with the sponsorship offers."

"Why?" I asked, puzzled. "I can't think of much that'd go wrong. It's just a few advertisements, right?"

He nodded slowly. "Normally, yes. But there are a few companies you ought to make sure don't get any advertisement space."

"What kind of companies would that be?"

"You'll know when you see them," he said. "There are a lot of them, mostly small, but some of these small 'companies' - if you could call them that at their inception - eventually evolved beyond that. Some fell into corruption, some were rotten from the start... nothing you want to associate with, and certainly nothing you'd want sending a government-sanctioned message out to the general public."

"'Government-sanctioned'?" I questioned.

"The Equestria Games is officially a government-organised and privately-funded event," he explained. "Since the government's in charge, whatever officially happens at those games reflects governmental attitude to certain issues. That extends to advertisements, which is why we have the Code of Advertising to keep a handle on what those private companies can do with their advertising space."

"I wouldn't need to worry about keeping an eye on it then, would I?" I reasoned.

"No... Not if you don't mind the Civil Service interpreting the Code of Advertising for you," he replied.

"... Oh." Looks like I'd have to be careful about this whole affair, then. "Thanks for the tip, Fancy."

"I live to serve," he said, with a mischievous glint in his eyes, "Princess Twilight."


> 4th January 2014
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	High Councillor Ician recalls:

I recall the flurry in the Civil Service at the time. It was normal at this time of year, with the Equestria Games right around the corner. Still, after the past few days, the atmosphere of the offices was thick with fatigue and tension. Everypony was past tired of all the trouble brought about by the New Year's Eve arrest. The top brass of the Royal Guard had begun to quarrel with the Ministry of Defense over command chain and authoritative issues, the Equestrian Intelligence Bureau was coming under fire from almost everypony, and the Ministry of Administrative Affairs was too because of Apple Bee's involvement. All the Palace was dissolving into civil war. I couldn't go anywhere without feeling oppressed by the heavy atmosphere.

And nowhere was it heavier than in Mente's office itself.

Unlike the others, Mente, I knew, had been busy long before the arrest. The apple supplier issue, the Ahuizotl incident... he'd had to deal with both of them, and now additionally the Equestria Games preparations and suppression of the civil war. A split in the Service at the level we were facing hadn't been seen since thousands of years ago, at least as far as the records went. The catalyst back then, as now, was a loss of faith in the leadership... except in the past, that leader was Discord. Now the leader in question was Mente.

As history tells, the fragmentation of the Civil Service in the Era of Chaos had led directly to the overthrow of a reigning regime and the installation of Princesses Celestia and Luna as the leaders of the newly-reformed Kingdom of Equestria. Since then, the Civil Service had always been united under the banner of the Councillors, amidst the changing politicians. The only other constant has been the Princesses, and as the legend of the Mare in the Moon, amongst recent events, show, even that constant has been and can be disrupted. The persistent unity of the Service could not be compromised, lest upheaval ensue, and as the one responsible for it nopony was more aware of this than High Councillor Mente.

He called me to his office early this morning. As I'd been informed through the Private Secretaries' grapevine, there was to be a meeting of all the Permanent Secretaries first thing in the official start of the working morning, which would explain why I was summoned so early. I knew we had to keep this brief... whatever it was that he wanted to talk to me about. For some strange reason there hadn't been any information about the meeting on the grapevine, which meant that whatever it was, it probably didn't involve the other departments at all. Either that, or he didn't want anypony to know anything about it, at least for the moment.

There were only so many possibilities left.

As soon as I set hoof in his office my suspicion began to grow. I greeted him with a polite greeting, but he didn't reply; instead, he walked over to the door I'd just walked through, closed it, locked it from the inside, and then continued to lock the next four padlocks along the edge of the doorframe I'd never noticed were there. After that, he went over to the windows in his office that opened up onto the Palace corridors and drew the curtains shut. He did the same for the ones that looked out onto Canterlot. Finally, after all that, he walked through the almost pitch-darkness and sat back down at his desk.

"Hello, Ician," he said gravely.

I can't quite remember what I stammered out, but I know that I sounded very stupid. Hopefully it came out more as being shocked. Either way, Mente didn't acknowledge it.

"Do you know why I called you here?" he asked.

I shook my head. He responded by shaking his too.

"I'm sorry to do this to you, Ician," he continued, "but I need you to help me do this. I'm a bit too... busy to prepare for the Equestria Games. Could you take care of it in my stead?"

I was stunned. "This is... an enormous responsibility," I stammered.

"I know," was his answer. "That's why I'm giving it to you. I believe you're capable enough to take care of it. But let me remind you not to let the Princess get a word of the sponsorship issues."

"She's probably already consulted Fancy," I said. "If she asks me directly, what should I do?"

"You'll have no choice but to acquiesce," he told me. "But make sure she does not make a decision contrary to ours."

"Have we already decided who the sponsor will be?" I asked.

"We will, after the Perm. Sec. meeting. It's on the agenda." He fixed me with a steely gaze. "I am sure that Princess Sparkle will argue her case on some trifling points. You must persuade her otherwise."

I was somewhat concerned. I remarked that, were the Princess to have been advised by Fancy, she would likely be stubborn and immovable in her opinion. How was I to convince her otherwise?

"Find a way," he snapped. Evidently he was at the end of his patience. "You're the Assistant Councillor, not my hoof puppet. I'm trusting you to be capable, so show me you deserve it."

I stiffened and winced. "Yes, High Councillor. I won't fail you."

He sighed. "I'm sorry, Ician. I'm just... fatigued. Princess Sparkle isn't the easiest to deal with, and with expert advice she has the potential to be very... troublesome."

"I understand," I said, trying to put the sting of his reprisal behind me. "Don't worry about the Equestria Games, I'll ensure it runs smoothly."

"Thank you," he answered, and then he ushered me out. Just before he closed the door on me he mentioned, "Also, I hear that Fancy would like to meet with you. Perhaps this would be an opportunity to... understand him better."

In essence, code for find his weak spots. Unlike Mente, my degrees were in law and administration, not in analytical psychology. Fancy was smart to want to meet me instead of him. "I'll have a chat with him."

"I look forward to hearing about it." He then indicated that I should leave.









[Ed: The meeting as referenced above is detailed in Fancy's private diary. While High Councillor Ician gave us a cursory explanation of the meeting, Fancy's notes have a level of depth concerning his thought processes. We therefore elected to make use of his writing, corroborated and enhanced by the High Councillor's account.]

Tact Ician. Age, 27. Position, Assistant Councillor to Princess Celestia of Equestria. As I recall, he used to be the PPS at the MHSS. I never met him personally, but by all accounts he was as a proper PPS should be: quiet, obedient, intelligent, and creative. Creativity, of course, concerning only means and not ends - it would not do for a Private Secretary to come up with anything so undesirable as a new idea.

My old colleague at the MHSS, Caesar, also told me that Ician was rather timid, and from his experience excessively antisocial. He must have grown out of this at least partially to have risen to become the Assistant Councillor, however. In addition to this, Caesar also mentioned that Ician was oftentimes unsure of himself and his ability, which would indicate insecurity. Something to keep in mind for future dealings with him.

And finally, there was something my own private investigators had turned up. I wasn't looking into him in particular, but it seems he's connected rather closely to one of the key personnel in Fancy Co.'s research division. Enough to suspect impropriety. I decided to use this as an opening move.

As soon as he entered the room, I began my offensive. "Do you know a pony by the name of Twist, Ician?" I began.

He hadn't even entered fully yet, but he flinched on the spot. Hit a nerve there; I was on the right track. "It's a common name," he said stiffly, closing the door. "What's his first name?"

"'His'?" I observed. "So you do know Mr Twist."

His recovery was quick and smooth, unlike the hesitation I was expecting. "I know a Twist. I'm not denying it."

"What's his full name, then?" I asked.

"... I don't see how this is related to our meeting." A blunt but strong attempt to redirect the conversation. As I thought, he didn't want me to pursue this line of inquiry. I could have dropped it, but I decided to press on. The more I could unnerve him the more I could see past the mask he was wearing.

"It's entirely relevant, I assure you," I replied.

He immediately picked up on the dismissive comment. "It would be easier to for me to trust you if you told me what this meeting was actually about."

"Many things, really. First of all is company affairs. I still have a business to run, you know." I gave him a charming smile. "And I have to question your affiliation to my lead researcher."

He flinched again. To his credit, though, he kept his expression remarkably impassive, save for a slight twitch of his right eye. "What of it?"

"I'm sure you know who he is. Dr Cyan Twist." I hoped to see another flinch, but he'd pulled himself together by that point. Or perhaps he didn't, judging by his response.

"In the grander scheme of things," he replied, "my relation to Dr Cyan Twist does not, primarily, share any connection with the overall well-being and progress of your business establishment. Additionally, it is not approaching a level of severity approximating that which your statement appears to imply, and in fact is completely non-indicative of any supposedly improper activity of either my part or that of Dr Twist's, given the available evidence and potential conclusions drawn on the basis of the the aforementioned evidence."

"Would you like to summarise that?" I asked politely. Being a Minister for several years did not mean I was capable of deciphering that sort of speech on the spot.

"... He is a friend," he answered. "Why do you ask?"

"Really now. Because you two seem a bit too close to be just friends." I leaned forward, fixing him with a penetrating, disarming gaze. "I shan't beat around the bush. He isn't leaking confidential company secrets, is he?"

His face continued to be remarkably impassive, but the long, awkward silence betrayed his uncertainty. Rather than give him more time to think, I chose to press on. "So, shall I take that as an admission?"

"He's doing nothing of the sort," he said at last. "Of this I can assure you."

"Forgive me, but I don't tend to take the word of Civil Servants very seriously."

His response to the jab was admirably composed. "Understandable... ex-Minister Pants."

"So," I continued, "how am I supposed to trust you?"

"I suppose you can't." He swung around quickly and began his counterattack. "But there isn't much you can do about it."

In other words, I couldn't take legal action against him. He was right. I hadn't the evidence to formally accuse him, after all, even if that evidence was just one privately-funded investigation away. In all honesty, I didn't really doubt him, not in particular, but that was due less to my trust in him than my suspicion that I knew exactly what was going on. I wasn't going to raise that point, though, for the sake of his face.

"No," I replied nonchalantly. "But I tend to keep a close eye on my researchers. If I find anything suspicious..."

"Perish the thought," he quickly interjected.

"Good, good. Now onto the next issue." It was time to play hardball. "You and I both know that there are going to be some questionable sponsorship offers for the Equestria Games."

As expected, he delivered the standard non-reply. "As an appointed official, I am not at liberty to disclose confidential government information to members of the general public."

"I wasn't trying to make you," i said. "I just wanted to remind you to take the questionable nature of those sponsorship offers into consideration. After all, we wouldn't want the Princess to make a mistake, would we?"

"There are no Princessly mistakes in government," he replied with a smile. "Only Princessly successes and Ministerial failures."

True as the quip was, I wasn't about to allow it to distract me from my line of attack. "I doubt we'd want the Ministers to make mistakes either, if it's to the detriment of the government."

Unfortunately, he wasn't about to budge. His training and discretion served him well. "Don't worry, the optimum outcome will be reached."

"From whose point of view?" I challenged.

"Everypony's," he replied. "At least everypony who matters."

I sighed. It was a sign of my frustration, and in my frustration I made a mistake. "You'll need Twilight's approval."

"She will understand." His eyes sparkled in a brief display of understanding. "Our advice is sound."

I shrugged. Inwardly I was seething with anger at myself for effectively acknowledging that I would be influencing Twilight's decision. "I'm sure it is. I'm just asking you to reconsider the premises of your advice, that's all."

"... Why tell this to me, then?" he asked. "You should be telling the High Councillor. He is the one in charge, after all."

"Because," I said plainly, "you're the Princess' PPS."

"Strictly speaking," he replied, "while my duties and responsibilities may mirror that of a Principal Private Secretary, the terminology in effect is slightly different so as to indicate the—"

"I meant that in a more figurative sense," I cut in. His pedantry reminded me a lot of Woolly. "Private Secretaries are much more loyal to their Ministers than Permanent Secretaries. I know that if there's anyone Twilight can trust, it'll be you."

"We in the Civil Service are all the Princess' loyal servants." I really was getting nowhere; his defenses were up. No doubt he was far too suspicious of me to open up. That was, admittedly, partly my fault, though I doubted that he would have opened up anyway.

All I could do was sigh. "Yes, yes. But you are her most loyal of servants, aren't you?"

"Primus inter pares," he said.

I gave an even more exasperated sigh."Well, Ician, it's been a pleasure talking with you. But I shouldn't hold you back from your work any longer."

"Indeed," he replied. "The Princess will need me by her side."

"For directing?"

"For advice," he corrected.

"Well... in any case, thank you for your time." I motioned for him to leave. "You've been... a great help."

"I would certainly hope not." He flashed a mischievous smile as he turned to depart. "That would be most improper."