> The Count of Romaneia
>  by Dandereshy
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> Part I: Chapter I
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


Part I






Prologue






Tourmaline Castle was silent this night, nestled cozily in a valley in northern Romaneia, a picturesque country across the seas from the famed Equestria. Rolling hills, endless forests,  snake-like valleys with crystal clear streams, and calm beaches made up this peaceful corner of the world. 

The weather here was quite amicable. Throughout most of the year, the temperatures never wavered more than 10 to 15 degrees. However, winters were as though the country took on a different climate. Sudden, violent winter storms were commonplace during the winter months. They raged onshore with barely a moment's notice and tore a swath of destruction across the seaside of the country, sometimes blanketing the land in snow, other times dumping excessive rain totals. The locals were always prepared, though. Not many minded the weather changes, as the land was truly beautiful. The winter months were just a minor quirk to most.

The ponies that inhabited the land were a friendly and hard working bunch. The economy soared with the discovery of precious gems and metals in the mountainous regions centuries ago, and so the percentage of wealthy folk was much higher than other countries. This did not disqualify any from being overcome by poverty; the lower-class population in Romaneia was quite high in certain parts, and in fact, several towns consisted of nothing but lower-class residents. But Romaneia was a place of kindness and peace, and so those struggling never went without basic necessities, as the wealthy would not allow it.

Romaneia was run, and had been run, by a king and queen for generations. For over 2000 years, Romaneia has been ruled by the descendants of the King Sapphire Sea, and so the trend continues, even until this fateful yet tranquil late summer's eve.





The young stallion son of King Topaz Sea and Queen Beryl Sunset, raced up the many staircases through the labyrinth of a castle they lived in at the request of the castle's physician, who stated in an urgently delivered scroll that his father was in grave health and soon to pass.

Down dimly lit halls and passages, Onyx Dawn made his was to the top of the castle, memories of time with his father controlling his every thought. His hoofsteps echoed eerily as he ascended the final chiseled stone staircase to the quarters of the king and queen.

Winded, but worried for his father, Count Onyx ignored the searing pain in his legs, caught his breath, and pushed through the heavy mahogany doors that guarded the entry. They groaned in protest, but swung open. 

Within the doors, ready to greet him, was the recent generation's servant to the royal family, a unicorn by the name of Ironhoof. He was an ex-blacksmith, and a good one at that. But the toll that his profession had taken on him drove him to retire much earlier than the norm. Because the king had taken notice of his nobility, having been in the kings army for a short period of time, he was hired as a servant - the personal servant of the royal family.

Count Onyx, confronted by Ironhoof, stopped just as he entered the king and queen's quarters. "Is it bad? Will he make it? Is he awake?" Onyx assaulted the servant with these questions. His voice portrayed a sense of urgency, and rightfully so. Onyx had never been so worried in his life.

In the light from the nearby torch mounted by the door on the wall, flickering and crackling, Ironhoof's weathered and tired face displayed great concern. "I'm afraid the worst may occur. King Topaz is in immense pain. He may not have long."

The Count, with the nervous Ironhoof in tail, pushed through the second pair of enormous wooden doors and entered his parents' bedroom. 

A gust of cooler air met Onyx as he stopped and stared at the scene before him. The twin Acacia doors, carved intricately by the most talented artist in the land, stood open, allowing the night air to stream in unabated. The satin curtains were separated, but still waving around in the light breeze. The torches were all lit, giving the room a yellowish-orange hue, despite the decorative multi-colored embroidery all around. The shag green carpet accented the room well, and the large, decorative-yet-functional fireplace was ablaze, the crackling wood sounding unnatural and out-of-place in the somber silence. The scent of incense filled the room, a heavenly smell that would have calmed Onyx's nerves, had he not been worried about his father's life. And finally, on the bed, was none other than King Topaz Sea himself, surrounded by his wife, the best physician in Romaneia, Captain of the Topaz Army, and now, his son, Onyx. The servant stood around quietly near the entrance to the room. 

Onyx came to the bedside, his heart skipping a beat at the sight of his sickly father. Topaz appeared to be dying, and not peacefully. His face was contorted into a grimace, revealing that he was in great pain, and his eyes were squeezed shut, his teeth clenched, and his forehooves clutching the bedsheets tightly, as if for dear life.

"Father... " Onyx breathed. He stood at the bedside beside Beryl. There was not a dry eye in the room.

Topaz croaked and hacked, phlegm blocking his throat as death seemed to close in. When he spoke, however, it was in a clear voice. "Onyx, my son. It is good to have you here."

Onyx nodded, trading glances with Beryl and the physician. He returned his worried gaze to the dying king. "I heard the news, that your condition had deteriorated. I had to come up and see how you were doing. You don't sound well. I'm certain you're not feeling well, either." He moved closer, sitting on his haunches and resting his forelegs on the bed.

Topaz hacked again, his whole body wracked with rigid, jerking movements. He began speaking again, with far less enthusiasm and volume. "It seems that way, yes. And I had Ironhoof write up a letter along with the physician's, summoning you. I need to speak with you on an important matter."

"Yes, father? What is it? Is it... About your health? Are you... Are you dying?" Onyx swallowed what felt like a large, unpolished stone. A heaviness struck his abdomen, accompanied by a queasiness that was not soon to go away.

Topaz was silent for what seemed like an eternity, and took his wife's hoof in his, giving a weak but reassuring squeeze. She smiled sadly down at him. "The answer to that is not known, my son. Yet I cannot leave you in the dark. I feel as though I might not have much longer."

Onyx dropped his head and felt the tears sting his eyes. Of course, this was how it had to be. He had just finished training for the Topaz Army, and was given the title Count a mere year ago. The changes were coming too quickly for him. He lifted his head back up, his eyes glazed over with tears. "I understand. And I accept that. But I must ask, who will run Romaneia while you are bedridden? Who is in line to acquire the crown, father?"

Topaz winced and replied, "I have considered that as well. But the answer is quite obvious. While I am incapacitated, you are to watch over the throne. You will not attain the title of king, however." He paused to wince yet again, then continued. "I trust you, my son. Please, do not let this dishearten you. My health is well enough to remain here, bedridden, but unable to maintain the land. I leave that to you while your mother tends to me. Can you do this for me?" His eyes pleaded with his son. Begged him. 

Onyx lowered his gaze, thinking deeply about the responsibilities suddenly bestowed upon him in the midst of this dark time. It was a lot to handle, but he'd been observing his father's methods since he was a foal. If there was any time he'd be prepared for such a thing, it was now. "Yes, father. I can take care of things for you in your absence."

Topaz smiled briefly. He coughed and sputtered, then closed his eyes, seemingly at peace. "I know you can and will."

Onyx stood and closed his eyes, thoughts of his new responsibilities surging through his head. He then reopened his eyes and bowed before his father, another relaxing breeze wafting through the room. "Thank you father. I swear I won't let you down."

Topaz smiled bigger this time. It was a proud, fatherly smile. "I know."






Chapter I






The brilliant, fiery yellow hue of the rising sun shone like a blanket of ethereal light across the hills surrounding Tourmaline Castle. It was early morning, several days from when Count Onyx Dawn was granted power over Romaneia temporarily while his father recovered from an unknown illness that plagued him.

Onyx stood on the right tower rooftop, gazing out at the immense lands bathed in golden sunlight that stretched beyond the horizon. The lands he now controlled.

He spun away and paced the rooftop, the sun warming the chilly morning air quickly, a light breeze giving him the occasional shiver. On his mind was far more than any typical morning. How would he do this alone? How long would he be doing it? Where did he start? Should he address the kingdom? Should he do anything at all, or had his father left him a stable country?

It frustrated Onyx. He hadn't expected this. No, not in his wildest dreams did he imagine himself leading this magnificent country. Not this soon, at least. And instead of being thrilled, as any young noble should be, he was more concerned about letting his father down. This was his moment to shine. His moment  to prove his value beyond being a son. And that's exactly what he planned to do. 

But how?

He sighed heavily, turning back to the edge of the tower and staring off into the distance, his mind a mess. This was a lot for one to take in on such short notice. But it happened, and there he was, pacing the crenellated rooftop. Father knew what he'd just done, and obviously had much faith in his son. What else did Onyx need to convince himself that this was doable?

A bird soared overhead, tweeting a morning greeting and disappearing below the edge of the tower. Onyx followed it with his eyes, wishing that was him flying around carelessly, not a worry on his mind. He glanced back at his now outstretched wings and gave them a weak flap. It could be him, save for the fact he had a lot to do in lieu of relaxing. And not by choice.

Giving the rising sun a final glimpse, Onyx abandoned the rooftop hastily, eager to get started with his new position of authority.





Onyx sat in the main dining hall, alone and busy. There were many parchments to scan through, many laws and orders to memorize, many issues in the land to address. These were all things that had accumulated over the last few days during his father's decreased health.  It would be his duty to tend to these matters daily, as King Topaz had.

After spending hours studying the laws he was already mostly familiar with, Onyx set aside his work for a break, and the chef gathered his dishes as he left the dining hall.

"Good day, sir," the chef gave a quick but friendly wave as Onyx returned a smile, shutting the double oak doors and taking a deep, fulfilling breath. His body ached from sitting in the large wooden chair for so long, and the constant climbing up and down the stairs was wearing him out. He would have to bathe soon and relax his stiff muscles.

As he made his way down the hall to the second floor staircase, he stumbled upon Ironhoof, descending rapidly. Albeit wide enough for multiple ponies to traverse them simultaneously, on each floor the single staircase did frequently result in near-collisions. 

"Oh, sir, I have news about King Topaz. I'm assuming you'd care to hear?" Ironhoof said with a bow.

Onyx nodded. "You assume correctly. Follow me and fill me in. Is he well?" he asked with a hint of concern bleeding from his voice as he led the servant up the staircase. The sounds of their hooves clopping on the stone steps echoed down the connecting halls on both floors. 

"He has been relocated from the keep to the infirmary. The physician claims that he needs to be there to be monitored closely and cared for. Queen Beryl has decided to reside there with him in the infirmary. King Topaz also instructed me to inform you that the keep is now yours in the meantime." Ironhoof gave a chuckle. "You're moving up in the world, quite quickly, sir."

They reached the second floor and immediately hung a right, climbing the next staircase up.

"Forgive me for not being as thrilled as you, Ironhoof. I'm worried about father's condition," Onyx said firmly, the two of them rounding the corner at the top of the stairs and climbing yet another pair of stairs. "What happens if he passes? Will I be the king so soon? I'm afraid, Ironhoof. I'm afraid I'll be shoved into this royalty quicker than I can handle."

They reached the top of the stairs and started at the bottom of the next.

Ironhoof cleared his throat. "Don't be silly, sir. You're more than capable, in my humble opinion. Don't be so hard on yourself."

"You completely circumvented the subject on my father, Ironhoof. You don't have faith in him, do you?" Onyx inquired curiously, glancing at the servant from the corner of his eye as they reached the top of the stairs and began at the bottom of the final staircase.

Ironhoof snorted. "What a preposterous accusation. Of course I have faith, sir. That's why I avoided the subject. No need to address it."

Onyx rolled his eyes. "Excellent save, Ironhoof."

"Thank you, sir."

At the top of the stairs, they turned and walked straight down the hall towards the end, where they'd climb the stairs to the keep.

Along the way, they encountered other servants clearing out the king and queen's personal belongings and bringing them down to the infirmary on the fifth floor. Amongst clothing and accessories, the king had a few belongings he kept in a small decorative chest by his bedside. The rest of the room, embroidery and all, was left for Onyx.

Once in the keep, Onyx scanned the room, scoping out where he'd be placing his belongings. Ironhoof helped him determine where things would fit or look best.

"I'm assuming you'd like to put your piano up here in the entry hall?" Ironhoof asked, sounding as though he was hoping the answer was no. He stood in the doorway, gazing down at the space between the display case for the dragon egg retrieved by King Topaz and the sword used to slay the mighty dragon that once prowled the northern plains.

Onyx chuckled. "Ironhoof, don't worry. You won't be moving it up here. The lesser servants will. You'll just be my personal servant, remember? As you were for King Topaz and Queen Beryl." He then collapsed on the bed, sprawled out. His vest caught on the bedpost and tore down the shoulder. "Ah! Of course."

Ironhoof laughed aloud. "Wonderful job so far, sir. You're already making progress. I'll see to it that your wardrobe is expedited up here as soon as possible. It appears you'll need some articles of clothing."

Onyx glared at him. "Don't forget that I'm now in power, Ironhoof. That sarcastic attitude isn't appropriate, and don't think I'll stand for it." He tugged the tattered ends of the vest up from under himself and sat up, studying them with furrowed brows. "Repairable. Have the dressmaker tend to this whenever I change out of it."

"Understood, sir. I'll see to it."

Onyx stood from the bed and stretched, going to the doors to the balcony. He swung them open and was greeted by a cool, salty, ocean breeze. He stepped out onto the balcony and went to the barrier, looking out over the grand ballroom and the hedge maze, and onto the vast sea that led to Equestria, thousands of miles away.

Ironhoof followed him out, glancing around. "Quite a nice day, if I do say so myself."

Onyx squinted at the sun and observed the clouds overhead swiftly retreating from over the sea onto land. They were fair weather clouds. He watched the workers down below at the port unloading wine and grain from ships and loading precious metals and gems aboard the ships going across the seas. They would be doing this from sun up to sun down, every day. Romaneia had far more import than export, but that was because they did not produce everything they needed in sufficient quantities. A little help from neighboring countries was required, at the expense of a little gold and diamonds.

Ironhoof joined Onyx at the edge of the balcony. "Sir?"

Onyx shook his head. "Sorry, Ironhoof. I was just watching them work."

Ironhoof nodded in understanding. He sniffled and shoved his glasses back up higher on his muzzle. "I suppose I'll be heading off to get things done. Enjoy your new quarters, sir. I'll have your stuff up here tonight. You'll be here?"

"I will. Maybe. I plan on going for a walk into town before dusk. I will leave the doors unlocked. Make sure everything gets up here by my return."

Ironhoof bowed. "Absolutely, sir. Enjoy your day, and your kingdom." The servant turned and briskly trotted off to fulfill his daily duties, leaving Onyx on the balcony to himself.





Romanhoof was the town at the foot of Tourmaline Castle. It was not the largest town in the land, but by far the wealthiest. Poverty levels were low in Romanhoof, and prices were high.

The town had many outdoor shop owners, grocers, blacksmiths, dressmakers, chefs, and inventors making a living there. They were quick to try and land a sale, but they were friendly and fair, most often. In Romanhoof, if you needed anything, it could be found, but not for a cheap price.

Unlike Equestria, where bits were the currency, the currency in Romaneia was 18-sided, three carat emeralds, and the treasury in Romanhoof circulated and managed these gems. Royalty had a never-ending supply of these beautiful rocks, but society only dealt with what was circulated. A vast majority of stones in circulation started from Tourmaline Castle, directly from royalty.

As for the inhabitants of the lovely town, they carried out business day by day, the same way, never changing. It was a peaceful, low-crime town. Children played in the streets, and adults went about business as they did every day. The Topaz Army patrolled the streets and kept things safe for the residents, and so problems hardly ever arose.

It was late day, and Onyx had left the castle and gone for a brisk walk into town to clear his head.

The cool, breezy summer day was perfect. In this part of the year, days like this were common. Ponies took advantage of every minute during the day in the summer months. And Onyx was no different.

Onyx strolled into town down the emerald ore street leading from Tourmaline Castle. Onyx carried with him his saddlebags and some emeralds in case he spotted something he wanted, which did frequently happen.

Onyx wore a replacement vest he retrieved before he left for town, and a gold necklace with a deep red onyx stone - briolette cut - and framed in 20 princess cut yellow diamonds. These stones were mined, then cut and set by the best jeweler in Romaneia. It was given to him by his father, and he was never to lose or sell it. In fact, he was advised to pass it down to his children. Onyx planned on doing just that.

Down a dirt path through the food district of town, Onyx wandered around, with no destination in mind. He was just relishing in his new position, admiring the town and its ponies.

There was plenty to do, however. There were clubs and bars, dance halls, restaurants, and plenty of inventors selling interesting contraptions. Onyx normally took interest in these things, but now, the excitement was setting in.

He was technically the king. The king! Everything was his, essentially. But he'd better not grow power-hungry. His father warned him of this.

Onyx slowed his gentle gait to a trot, his hooves stirring up small clouds of dust, and stopped in front of a pet dealer. After a couple mares passed in front of him, he got a better view of a large wooden cage in the shop. He approached the wooden bars and peered curiously inside.

Parrots. Lots of parrots, of many colors and sizes. Onyx had always held an interest in birds, especially parrots. Ever since he cared for a young lost parrot as a foal, he wanted to have one as a pet. It seemed like maybe today was the day that dream became a reality.

"Can I help you?"

The voice behind Onyx startled him into spinning around, assuming a defensive stance, his body rigid, his wings outstretched. He relaxed when he realized it was simply the store owner. "Hello there. I'm interested in your parrots, actually. May I step in the cage to see them?"

The shop-owner smiled brightly. "Absolutely. Here, follow me." He waved Onyx over to a small gate, which he unlocked and opened. "Take your time, Sir Onyx."

Onyx replied with a single nod and stepped into the cage. There were at least three-dozen birds there, all parrots. Onyx let his eyes wander around the cage, searching for a parrot of the same color of the one he cared for years ago. And he found one. 

Onyx went over to the corner and crouched down beside a green parrot, obviously full grown and full of curiosity, as it peered up at Onyx and squawked. Onyx grinned and stuck his forelegs out, inviting it to hop on. 

The parrot seemed to hesitate before taking up the offer, hopping on and wrapping its claws around his leg and giving another squawk.

Onyx flinched at the claws digging into his leg but stood up, checking out the magnificent bird. Yes, this bird would be coming home with him. It was beautiful and friendly. Just like the one from his foalhood.

"I take it you like that one?" the store owner asked hopefully, stepping up to Onyx and the bird. The other parrots flapped around and squawked noisily.

Onyx smiled. "Yeah, I'd like to buy it. How much?"

"25 emeralds."

Onyx scoffed. "A bit overpriced but it'll do." He dug out the appropriate number of gems and handed them over.

The excited store owner took them hastily and stored them away in a large brown chest by the gate. "Thank you very much, sir. Thank you!"

Onyx stepped back out, the parrot on his shoulder. This was wonderful for him. He deserved companionship, something he lacked. He had no marefriend - no friends in general - and had no available family to spend time with. Although a parrot wouldn't do much more than rest on his shoulder, the parrot would give him company and help him deal with his feelings. At least the parrot wouldn't judge him.

Back out on the street, Onyx stood and collected his thoughts. He decided to go for a bite to eat at his favorite pub, stay for a drink or two, and head home. He checked to be sure his saddlebags were closed right, and noticed a sign for the shop he'd just purchased the parrot from. It exclaimed, "Parrots for sale! 15 emeralds a bird". Onyx rolled his eyes and trotted off.

It was late day, and the sun was beginning to fall towards the horizon. The breeze calmed a bit, and the sky began to clear, revealing its brilliant deep blue color. The streets usually picked up in traffic once the evening hours rolled by, as everypony went home or out for a night on the town. Today though, the traffic seemed to have decreased from earlier. Onyx found this peculiar, but not unusual. It definitely was not the first time.

He carried on to his favorite pub, Skyland's. They served excellent booze, had plenty of games to play, such as pool or darts, and the mares were always looking for a good time. On a day such as this, Onyx was looking for the same.

And it wasn't as if Onyx couldn't find a one-night swing with a beautiful harlot. Onyx was royalty, which made him automatically the best choice for any mare wanting to fill her saddlebags with emeralds in a single night. On top of that, Onyx was handsome. His steely gray coat was groomed and shone with health, and his deep maroon mane was kept trimmed, groomed, and clean at all times. It was usually allowed to flow freely, but during times of training, or events such as the Grand Crystal Gala, his mane was done up specifically by his hairdresser.

Onyx was prancing along happily when he passed a rather strange shop, down at the end of a dirt path. It was dark and mysterious, likely the shop of a magician or something similar.

Curiosity winning him over, Onyx made his way past an older stallion pulling a cart of eggs and down the path, approaching the entrance slowly. Immediately upon entering through the black painted wooden door, his nose was assaulted by the acrid-smelling smoke of many incense.

He closed the door and took a good look around him, the parrot on his shoulder flapping its wings and squawking in distress.

Onyx ignored it momentarily as he tried to figure out where the shop owner was. Dark oak shelves reached upwards around him, displaying a horde of bizarre merchandise. Masks and statues stood along the baseboards. The carpet was black and shaggy, and the torches along the top of the maroon-painted wall all burned red, casting and eerie glow on the room. The choking smoke from the incense burning in a bowl on a table nearby didn't help.

Seeing that the owner was nowhere around, Onyx turned and slipped out, gulping in deep breaths of fresh, clean air as the door slammed shut behind him. The parrot seemed to be at peace, as well; his flapping and noise ceased.

After a moment or two, Onyx peered over his shoulder at his company. "Sorry about that little guy. I had no clue it'd be so volatile in there."

The parrot croaked at him, as if replying, and somehow Onyx felt that it was more than the smoke that had bothered the bird.

"Off to the pub, for now," Onyx told himself under his breath as he trotted away.
> Part I: Chapter II
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


Chapter II






The sights, smells, and sounds of Skyland's welcomed Onyx like an old friend as he slipped past the guarded entry and stood there, taking it all in. This was his favorite pub in all of Romanhoof. Here, he could relax, vent his troubles, or simply drink them away.

The pub wasn't big, but it sure had a lot to do. Directly across from the entrance, just past the pool table, was the bar. A row of sturdy wooden stools sat close against the counter, and just beyond it was the biggest selection of alcoholic beverages any pony could ever dream of. To the left of the bar was a blackjack and poker table. Closer to the entry, off to the left, was a dining area, complete with nicely decorated tables, a huge roaring stone fireplace, and a row of tall glass windows overlooking the sea to the west... Perfect for a romantic sunset dinner.

Back off to the right of the entry area was a dance floor. It was a large platform made of a solid slab of the finest white marble in the country, polished and kept in pristine condition. And to the right of the bar area were the bathrooms and a big old-fashioned jukebox, usually playing something for the dance floor nearby. Onyx only frequented three locations in the pub: the bar, the diner, and the pool table area. He'd never visited the dance floor, as he wanted to someday dance with the mare of his dreams. Onyx also wasn't a professional at poker or blackjack, so he preferred not to lose too much there.

Onyx took a deep breath and glanced around the pub, checking out the busyness. It was actually not quite as active as it normally is, but then again, it wasn't the time of day of the most activity, anyways. The familiar whiffs of booze and cheap food, sweat, perfume and cologne assaulted his nostrils, while the clinking of glasses, pool balls being struck, yells of surprise and bursts of laughter relaxed his nerves. This was like a second home to him.

The parrot on his shoulder gave a loud squaw, startling him. Onyx smiled up at his shoulder friend. He'd have to name him or her soon. Calling it "it" wouldn't be practical.

"Ahhhhh, Onyx, my friend! Glad you showed up when you did! I need you to settle a bet for me!" a jovial and hearty voice bellowed from his left. Onyx turned to see an old friend from his childhood trotting up to greet him.

It was his friend, Winter Green. The mint colored unicorn with the pastel green and grey mane was his closest friend in life. Unfortunately, the two never hung out like they used to. In fact, this was the first time they'd seen each other in weeks. There were many reasons for this, the most prominent being Winter was too immature for Onyx. He attended too many parties, drank and did drugs more than any one pony should, and had no work ethic. He spent one too many days sitting around and doing close to nothing productive.

And apparently today he was in trouble for making a bet.

"Hello there, Winter. I see you've managed to owe somepony money again?" Onyx joked, only partly. The two of them shook hooves and began heading off towards the dining area.

"No, no. I'm going to win money, not lose it! The bet was you and I were friends. They don't believe the Count would be friends with me. Can you believe that?" Winter said, shaking his head. "What fools."

Onyx hummed as he thought. Perhaps they were right. It was kind of unbelievable that this stallion was friends with royalty. The two didn't have any common ground; they simply enjoyed each other's company. But he would win the bet, either way. "I suppose I can help you then."

Winter gave a loud hoot. "I knew I could count on the Count. Haha!" He bumped Onyx with his shoulder, nearly sending him into a nearby table as they approached the table full of rowdy, unruly drunks.

"Hey you guys, here he is? See? Gimme my money!" Winter ran over the rest of the way and slammed a hoof on the table, jarring all the half-empty beers and interrupting the loud conversation the ponies there were holding. They all gawked up in surprise at Onyx, their eyes wide and mouths agape.

"Uh, hello there," Onyx gave a shy wave. When it came to meeting new ponies, Onyx was as timid as it got.

The older-looking pegasus stallion snorted. "The hell is this, some kind of joke? There's no way you two are friends. You're just a cunning bum who managed to catch the Count while he was out and about and convinced him to vouch for you."

"Not true at all!" Winter shot back, throwing his forelegs above his head. Onyx shrank back and covered his eyes with a hoof, mildly embarrassed. "Onyx and I have been friends since foalhood! You guys owe me. Pay up."

The rest of the stallions groaned and sat back.

"Please, Winter. Let the Count speak. I'd like to hear it from him. Surely he wouldn't lie to us," the stallion earth pony with a brilliant shiner said, motioning to Onyx.

"Fine. But he'll agree with me," Winter conceded.

Onyx swallowed. "Uh, yeah. We're friends. It's no secret. We've been close since we met as foals. Winter is a cool guy, though I don't agree with everything he does. Like betting," he admitted and shot a glance over at his friend, who appeared mildly annoyed by that last comment. "In any case, he is indeed friends with me."

Winter nodded. "Now gimme my money. I want another shot of vodka and I'm broke."

With defeated moans, the ponies at the table surrendered a large pile of emeralds. Winter greedily slid them off the table into a pouch, giggling like a moron.

Onyx rolled his eyes. "Am I finished here, Winter? I've business to attend to." He sighed and muttered under his breath: "As always..."

Winter set his bag beside the table on the floor and threw a foreleg around Onyx, giving him a friendly hug. "Shoot, of course. Thanks Onyx. Good to see ya. Hey, when can we hang out, eh? Been kinda slow lately."

Onyx shrugged. "Winter, I'm busy lately. Quite a bit. Even more now that I'm temporarily in charge of Romaneia," he said and stopped, shaking his head. That last part slipped out. He wasn't wanting to spread the news just yet.

The ponies at the table all expressed their surprise with various noises, same with Winter.

"Moving up to King Onyx now, huh?" the shiner stallion asked with a big grin, raising his eyebrows ridiculously high.

Onyx sighed again, wishing he'd never come to the table. "Yes, for now. I need to go now, Winter. I'll be around. Have... fun." He turned and pranced off before anypony could protest. He wasn't here to entertain guests; he was here to have a drink and relax.

Once he'd made his way to the bar, he found himself a good seat, secluded from the other drinkers. He waited for the bartender to come to him. He already knew what he wanted, as he'd ordered the same drink every time he came to Skyland's.

"Mr. Onyx! Good to see ya. Same thing as always, right?" the grey unicorn asked, cleaning a glass with a decidedly filthy rag.

Onyx winced at the sight. "As always."

The bartender nodded, pouring him a glass of creme de menthe, then adding a little brandy. He set the glass on the counter and slid it to Onyx. "Enjoy," he added as he tended to another customer.

Onyx took a long, drawn-out sip of his favorite mixed drink. The stinger always made him shiver but he loved the taste. He smacked his lips and decided to survey the bar, checking out his company.

Beside him was an old stallion unicorn, wobbling on his stool and muttering gibberish in varying volumes while the scantily dressed and clearly lascivious mare pegasus beside him tried to pick up some business with a blue unicorn stallion sitting beside her; the dance floor was clear, which wasn't unusual; the dining area was nearly full, also normal; at the blackjack table were the same stallions and mares that played there every time Onyx had been in the pub; and finally, the pool table was surrounded by at least 10 ponies, indicating some kind of competition in progress. They were responsible for nearly half the noise in the pub currently. Besides them, a few mares and stallions wandered aimlessly around the pub.

Onyx turned back to his drink, taking a more fulfilling sip this time.

"Hey, cutie. You look like you need a good ending to your night."

He glanced in the direction of the voice and discovered a pretty young mare pegasus smiling innocently at him. She flapped her wings and sat on the stool beside him, resting an elbow on the counter and her head on her hoof, her green eyes flashing mischievously.

Onyx flashed a smile. "You're a pretty little thing. Why ever would you be here, doing this to yourself?"

Her smile faded quickly. She withdrew and turned away, her yellowish mane flopping around. "Hard times call for desperate measures..."

Onyx nodded in understanding. "But there wasn't another way?" He swallowed another bit of his drink.

The mare sighed heavily, seemly sagging on her stool. "This makes me the most money. I have to, you know? I tried other things, but the payout just wasn't good enough..."

"Can I ask why you need money so badly?"

"My brother is ill. The medical expenses are sky high. My mom and I can't afford it... so I resorted to this. So far, it's been doing the job," she explained, resting her forelegs on the counter with her head on them. "Yes, it's demeaning, but I love my brother. I couldn't let him..."

"I understand Miss. No need to convince me. Here," Onyx sat his saddlebags on the counter and retrieved 30 emeralds. He passed them to the astonished mare. "These are yours, no services attached. I know it's not much, but it'll help, no doubt."

She took them and smiled gratefully at him, her eyes welling up with tears. "That's the sweetest thing anypony has ever done for me..." She rushed forward and hugged him suddenly.

Onyx was taken off guard at first, but returned the hug almost immediately. "Don't keep doing this, Miss. It's not a life to live."

She pulled away and gave a single nod. "Of course. Thank you, Count Onyx. Thank you..." She clutched her purse full of emeralds to her chest and flapped off, leaving the pub in a hurry.

Onyx returned to his drink, relaxing a little better now that his good deed for the day was done. And although he'd paid for services like the ones she'd just offered before, today he wasn't feeling that way. Paying for love wasn't right. Helping somepony in need was much more fulfilling.

The parrot on his shoulder cawed, adjusting its wings.

Onyx smiled back over his shoulder at it. "Yeah, yeah. We'll get out of here soon, my friend."





The brisk, dusk air greeted Onyx as he stepped out of the pub several hours later, woozy but not drunk. He never drank enough to get there.

As expected, the town was bustling with those out enjoying the nightlife. After dark, the adults of Romanhoof came out to play.

Onyx inhaled a lungful of cool air and looked around him at the ponies wandering the streets. Most of them were groups of friends or mares looking for business. Since harlotry was not a crime in Romaneia, many mares used it as a way to fill their saddlebags. Although Onyx disagreed with the prostitute-friendly attitude, he had hired a few mares for a night of fun when he was feeling particularly lonely, though he usually felt a strong sense of regret afterwards.

Onyx began calmly walking home, taking his time. Why rush? Tonight wasn't any different than any other night. Besides, tonight was one of those cursed nights that he longed for some female attention. Perhaps he'd find some if he took his time getting back to the castle.

His parrot squawked loudly, clearly in distress. Onyx stopped and glanced curiously back at it. "What's wrong, little bird?"

It seemed to be looking off in the distance and making a ruckus. Onyx followed its gaze to the very same bizarre business he entered earlier. The window was covered by a curtain on the inside, but it was clear that there was a lot going on within. Brilliant flashes of multicolored lights constantly lit up the window, casting an eerie shadow from the curtain on the ground just outside with every burst of light.

Onyx considered going to the place and finding out what was going on, but thought better of it. Tonight was not a good night to be exploring the unusual.

"Shhhhh," Onyx quieted his bird down, giving it a pet on the head. "You're like an alarm for me, you know? Hmm... Perhaps I should name you... Beakon. Yeah, that's clever and nice. You like it, Beakon?"

The bird gave a chirp and began preening the feathers of his left wing.

Onyx chuckled. "I'll take that as a yes." He resumed his path back home, unable to take his eyes off the strange but intriguing old shop with flickering lights.





Back in the keep, Onyx lay sprawled out on his bed, having been unable to bring himself to taking home a mare for her services. It just didn't feel right. But he wished he didn't have to want the attention so badly. The loneliness weighed heavily on his mind; some days were worse than others. In any case, romance was not his strong point.

A gentle breeze streamed through the room, the twin doors to the balcony open wide. The curtains flapped around, and the fireplace crackled as the wind fanned it hotter, the bright yellow embers floating up the chimney and out into the night.

There wasn't much to do up here, as he was alone. This late in the evening, everypony was either finishing up supper or heading to bed. Besides that, Onyx didn't have anypony to invite into his quarters anyways.

Onyx hopped out of bed and out onto the balcony. He peered into the night sky, admiring the infinite number of stars that sparkled against the endless black background. The moon was waning and clear, and shone brilliantly down on the land like a giant white lamp. It illuminated the hedge maze and garden below, where Onyx noted the brown showing here and there. He'd have to get on the gardener about that.

Out across the sea, Onyx could count three yellowish specks of light. They were merchant ships on their way out of port, or in. Their work never ended; they sailed in and out of the Port of Romanhoof day in and day out. Onyx had high respect for the ponies at sea.

The Count sighed and rested his head on his hoof, his elbow on the edge of the barrier. He gazed out over the sea and let his mind wander.

Tomorrow he'd have some work to do, but the real effort would start days from now, when a town meeting occurred at the Romanhoof Rectangle, a park in the center of town. The residents of Romanhoof would gather and listen to whatever the King had to say, regarding new or changed laws, the illnesses, crime rates, land development, treaties, and other varies important things. Onyx would have to compile a list of said things, and after presenting them before a crowd of over 10,000, take questions.

Onyx did not like crowds. His stage fright weighed him down, but he figured what better way to rid himself of the affliction than standing before an entire town?

Of course, he'd do fine. When put under pressure, Onyx did not crack. He did what he had to do, whether it bothered him or not. It was his duty to serve this country and make his father proud. Especially after having power bestowed upon him at such a young age.

But what about his personal problems? How could he continue to be alone, whether romantically or socially? It always seemed that ponies were intimidated by his royalty; attempting to make friends only led to him being rejected, either gently, or vehemently. Lately, he'd been trying much less.

This was not his priority; no, not now. His priority was to keep Romaneia running smoothly. To make his father proud to call him son. What else could a young stallion wish for?

Onyx returned to reality, taking a deep breath and rubbing his temples. All this was giving him a headache. Or perhaps it was the bit of booze he had earlier. In any case, it felt like bed time.

He turned and went back into the keep, closing the balcony doors behind him and tossing another log into the fireplace to keep it going. If he didn't, the room would cool rapidly, as the castle was so tall, clouds sometimes enshrouded the towers and the keep, especially on rainy days.

Beakon gave a single caw as Onyx dressed for bed. The parrot sat on the top of the dark oak wardrobe, staring down at his owner curiously

"I am indeed heading to bed, Beakon. I urge you to, as well," Onyx said as he slipped under the cotton sheets, relishing in the warmth and softness. He could get used to this.

Beakon decided to instead preen his feathers, inciting a laugh from Onyx.

"Well, as long as you're quiet, preen all night, my friend. Goodnight." Onyx blew out the lamp on the bedstand and rolled over, pulling the covers to his chin. He fell asleep soon after.





"Sir? Are you awake yet? Sir?" A loud voice perforated by heavy knocking pulled Onyx from his slumber. He sat up and rubbed his eyes, groaning groggily. He rolled and collapsed on the floor, banging his head and crying out in pain. He sat there and rocked back in forth, clutching his throbbing head.

"Sir? Are you alright in there? You sound as though you might be in distress."

"No kidding," Onyx muttered, climbing to his hooves and making his way to the doors, pulling one open to see Ironhoof standing there with a tray of breakfast foods. 

"You didn't call for breakfast, so I took initiative and had it made for you," the servant explained, holding the tray out to him.

Onyx hesitated before taking the tray and plopping it on his bed, sitting beside it. "What's new, Ironhoof?"

Ironhoof entered the bedroom and stood near the doors. "I'm sorry sir?" He clearly didn't understand the question.

Onyx stuffed a breakfast muffin in his mouth, chewing it slowly before swallowing it with a gulp of tangy orange juice and replying, "I'm asking how your morning is going, Iron."

Ironhoof seemed to have an epiphany. "Oh! It's gone quite well, sir. Nothing out of the ordinary or worth discussing, I'd say."

"I have the feeling you just don't want to discuss it, Iron. Am I correct to assume this?" Onyx polished off a hashbrown and the rest of his orange juice. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hoof and set the tray aside.

Ironhoof nodded. "I'd say so, yes sir."

Onyx slipped off the bed and stretched, his joints cracking. He extended his wings and gave them a flap. "Very well. I suppose I'll just have to order you to tell me." He eyed the servant to see his reaction.

Ironhoof seemed to dislike that, and quite much. He curled his lip and narrowed his eyes, shaking his head.

Onyx couldn't help but burst into laughter. "I'm kidding," he said, coming over to Ironhoof and giving him a pat on the shoulder. "Don't be so serious all the time."

Now he seemed confused. "But sir, you told me the other day to refrain from using humor."

"That's... not entirely true. It was the kind of humor- You know what, all irrelevant. Let's move on." Onyx stepped over to the wardrobe and opened the big doors, peering in at his limited selection. Beakon flapped off the top and soared over to the fireplace, landing on the mantle.

Ironhoof glared at the bird. "What in Romaneia is that doing in here?"

Onyx scowled at the servant. "That would be Beakon, my pet. Is there something wrong?" He threw on his coat, sliding his forelegs down the sleeves and buttoning up the front.

Ironhoof smiled nervously. "No, not at all, sir. I was just curious is all." He side-stepped into the doorway, half out of the room. "He's magnificent," he added, the smile never fading.

"Uh huh. Ironhoof, I'm taking my morning walk. When I get back, please have my parchment and quill ready. I've some notes to take. Royal Court is soon." Onyx walked past Ironhoof out into the hall and towards the exit. "And while you're at it, bring me some bird feed. Beakon should be hungry. And a bowl of water, too."

"Absolutely, sir. I'll get right on it."

Onyx stopped in the doorway of the exit and said over his shoulder, "Tell my father when I get back in an hour, I would like to speak with him on an important matter." Then he descended the stairs to the first floor of the castle.
> Part I: Chapter III
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


Chapter III






As the first duty of the day, Count On you was to attend the Royal Court -- and declare whom is guilty or not. Wearing a black suit jacket, his mane combed back and slickened, he took a deep breath and shoved open the heavy oak doors, strolling into the courtroom.

This was his first ever appearance in court, but he'd studied enough beforehand to know what to expect. Still, the atmosphere of the room made him shiver upon entry.

The room wasn't very big by the castle's standards, but it was still large. The rectangular courtroom had bare walls, decorated only here and there by the triangular blue flag of Romaneia, and the row of armor-clad knights lining the walls on either side, somehow instilling fear into even the bravest of those who entered. The floor was carpeted down the middle of the room with a short, blue carpet, leading directly up to the Chair of Royal Judgement, where Onyx would take seat. On the right side of that chair was a small wooden lever -- the most feared thing in the courtroom. It was a judgement tool, a final action against those whose crime or crimes deserved more than imprisonment. Put simply, one did not want that lever pulled. Finally, the dim lighting made the room appear as it was: an ominous chamber for the doomed.

Onyx stood near the doors, sweeping his gaze over the room. A few ponies stood around, chatting idly in hushed voices. They grew quieter when they noticed Onyx's presence. At the prosecutor's bench, a tan-colored unicorn was busy organizing paperwork for the soon-to-begin court session. The defense bench was vacant.

"It certainly is a busy morning, is it not, Lord Onyx?"

The sudden voice behind him startled him, and he eyed the earth pony with repressed petulance. "You are...?"

The blue stallion cleared his throat. "Pardon me, Your Lordship. I am the Civilian Defense Attorney, Dr. Sand." He bowed swiftly.

"Of course," Onyx said with a nod. "Now, why do you say it's busy? This courtroom is more lifeless than a countryside cemetery."

"For now," Dr. Sand agreed, glancing around the room with the count. "But soon the room will be lined with prisoners whom you will judge. Fairly, I hope."

Onyx cringed at that last part. "I'm not a tyrant, Dr. Sand. Don't say things like that."

Dr. Sand waved his forehooves before himself. "Oh, no, Lord Onyx. You misunderstand. I meant it is to my knowledge that this is your first experience in the Royal Courtroom. I was uncertain about your knowledge on court etiquette, is all. Forgive me, Lord."

"I assure you that I'm well informed. My judgement will be just."

"Then all will be well, Your Lordship."

Onyx hummed thoughtfully. "How many?"

"Lord?"

"How many prisoners today?"

"Twelve," the attorney said.

Onyx gave a single nod, indicating that he'd heard the pony. However, his mind was preoccupied. This was his first court appearance, and, despite reassuring the attorney he was educated, he still felt nervous. He would be in charge of the demise of twelve ponies today. Their lives would be changed just by his word. Furthermore, he did not want to have to use the dreaded lever today.

"Lord?"

Onyx broke free from his thoughts. "Yes? What is it?"

The defense attorney motioned towards the benches. "My apologies for interrupting your thoughts, Lord. The Royal Court is ready to proceed whenever you're ready."

"Let us begin then," Onyx said, walking to the small staircase with a decorative railing on one side and ascending it. He stared down at the heavily worn wooden seat in the Chair of Judgement. It was clearly old and much used. Onyx took a seat and waited for the first prisoner, feeling a bit anxious but refusing to show it.

The double-doors to the court swung open and two armed guards -- the Topaz Army -- strode in and split to either side of the doors, snapping to attention. Their deep-blue armor glistened brilliantly despite the dim lighting. One-by-one, bound prisoners filed into the room until there were twelve. They were divided evenly to either side of the room, standing on the cold, stone floor. Behind them trailed two more guards who slammed the doors and stood at attention with the other two guards, preventing the prisoners the chance of escape.

Onyx observed the prisoners curiously, and noted that most of them didn't appear afraid. Perhaps they were all here on minor crimes, he thought. In any case, it was time to begin.

"Will the first prisoner please come forward?" the prosecutor stood and said. One of the guards grabbed ahold of the furthest one on the left and brought him exactly three feet before the Chair of Royal Judgement, standing him on the carpet while the guard himself stood off intentionally on the bare stone floor. It was safer for him that way.

The prisoner was a pale green earth pony with an off-white mane that swirled around his head and neck, unkempt and filthy. He stared down at the floor, visibly nervous now.

"What is your name?" Onyx asked the prisoner. His low-tenor voice echoed loudly despite him not using much volume. That was the acoustics you got when you designed a room of solid, foot-thick stone.

Without looking up, the prisoner replied, "Mint."

Onyx hesitated. "Mint? Just 'Mint'?"

Mint sighed. "Mint... Creme..."

A couple prisoners snickered, earning a deadly look from the guards.

The count pondered why the name deserved the attention. Was it somehow amusing?

"I see." He shifted uncomfortably. What was he to say?

"Your Lordship, the prisoner before you is guilty of theft. He was apprehended as he fled the market with stolen food stuffs," the nasally prosecutor said, tapping the parchment he held up with a forehoof.

"I needed food for my family," the stallion prisoner retorted, finally glancing up at Count Onyx. His deep blue eyes sparkled piteously, demanding his innocence be announced. Onyx shivered.

"Your Lordship, the subject was a mere block from a food bank," the prosecutor said, shaking his head. "He easily could've obtained the food he needed for his starving family in a legal fashion."

"The food bank refused me. I'm there too often, I'm afraid." The prisoner shrugged, the chains binding his legs chinking noisily.

"Again, his fault and problem. There is plenty of work to be had in Romanhoof. If he and his family needed food so severely, a job could've solved all his problems." The prosecutor sat back and clasped his forehooves together expectantly on his desk.

The prisoner shook his head. "I have an injury that prevents me from working on my hooves."

The prosecutor snorted. "But not preventing you from hopping a 13-foot wall and leading authorities on a half-hour chase?" He turned to Onyx. "Lord, the subject knowingly and willingly stole food despite there being countless other options available. He must be held accountable for his actions. I'd recommend the five-year standard for this kind of crime."

Onyx rubbed his chin thoughtfully, studying the prisoner before him. The prosecutor made a few good points, but it was time to see the flip side of the coin.

The defense attorney cleared his throat purposefully. "Lord, let me begin by attacking the term 'thief.' it's a gross misnomer and our subject does not deserve such a title. He merely obtained necessary rations to suffice his family's hunger. In what dimension is trying to stay alive a crime?"

"In what dimension is committing a crime okay if it is done to stay alive?" The prosecutor rolled his eyes. "Irregardless of reasoning, the subject broke the law. The day we start giving passes for thieves because they 'were trying to feed their family' is the day we allow stealing altogether."

"Your Lordship, this is an attack on the subject's character. Once again, he's undeserving of the crime, as he was simply feeding his starving wife and two foals. I fail to see the crime in that, and so should you. Please, Lord, let this stallion return to his family so he can support them the best he can." The defense sat back, as if he'd won with that statement alone.

Onyx stared down into the defendant's eyes, searching them for a clue of what to do. He found genuine fear, apprehension, and innocence staring back at him. Should this stallion be convicted for attempting to feed his family? Although he may have a good reason for it, he still committed a crime. That much was true. However, the prosecutor was seeking five years -- a hefty sentence for taking some food.

Onyx sat back and began quietly drumming his forehooves on the surface of the desk, deep in thought. He was facing a serious moral dilemma here. This particular crime shed light on why his father disliked court so much. One simply could not stick to the books in cases like this. The defendant was only thinking of his family's survival. Which meant there was only one thing to do.

Onyx took a deep breath to speak, resulting in the whole courtroom focusing attention on him all at once, all in anticipation on what he'd say. "How old are your two foals, Mr. Mint?"

The prisoner was taken aback by the formality. He frowned and replied, "Three and five, Lord. Filly and colt."

Onyx nodded. "And you were stealing to feed them because you had no other options available that you were aware of?"

"I... I suppose so, Lord."

"Very well," he said, leaning forward. He could now feel the prosecutor's gaze burning a hole through his side, but he ignored it for now. "Finally, I'd like to ask if you'd have been willing to hungry yourself to be sure your family was fed well enough with any food you obtained."

"That was my intention all along, Lord."

"That's all I needed to hear. The subject is not guilty and is to be released immediately." Onyx slammed the old wooden gavel down.

"You're just like your father," the prosecutor grumbled, shaking his head. "King Topaz was always far too lenient. Despicable."

Onyx turned and narrowed his eyes at the portly unicorn. Had he really just said that? "I beg your pardon?"

All activity and quiet murmuring in the room ceased as its occupants sensed the tension building suddenly.

"I believe I was quite clear," he spat, glaring up at the count.

"First of all, that's not how you address me. It's 'Lord' to you. Second of all, you will not interrupt this court session with besmirching of me or my father. Thirdly, see me after court. Your disrespect must be dealt with." He lowered his voice to just above a whisper and leaned towards the now nervous prosecutor. "My father has given me full control of the kingdom, which includes giving punishments for insubordination," he grinned pleasantly, "so play nice, understand?"

The unicorn nodded, a bead of sweat forming on his brow as the magnitude of his mistake hit him full-on. "Yes, Lord. My sincerest of apologies."

"Good," Onyx said, turning his attention to the baffled courtroom. "Let us continue. Bring the next prisoner forward."





Tourmaline Castle grew quiet as the evening hours rolled by, and soon Count Onyx was left with nothing to do. So, as usual, he went to visit his father in the infirmary.

The hospital in Tourmaline Castle was the best equipped medical center in Romaneia. Surgeries, resuscitation, disease care, and anything else that might ail somepony within castle walls was performed in the medical area on the fifth floor.

Sometimes, the local hospital in Romanhoof could not care for a particular illness or injury, in which case the castle would receive the subject. Luckily, medical care was free in Romaneia, so one hadn't the need to worry where they received treatment.

In the infirmary, Onyx sat quietly at the bedside of his sleeping father. King Topaz lay still, the covers pulled up to his chin, the only sign of life being the rise and fall of the blue blanket with each of his heavy, raspy, labored breaths. Somehow, the stallion appeared many years older than he had just days before.

Ever since he'd fallen ill and given control of the kingdom to Onyx, things just hadn't felt right. Without the king and queen, Romaneia was like a ship without its captain. Except, now the first mate was in charge.

Onyx was that first mate, and he wasn't sure how he felt about it. Running a kingdom at his age seemed an impossiblity, yet it was happening, and things were going smoothly. Or so it seemed. In any case, he'd surprised himself with how well he'd been doing, and he was certain his father would be proud of him. He'd have been especially impressed at his performance in court earlier.

"Oh, the things we'll discuss when you're better, father," Onyx whispered with distant hope. King Topaz stirred, but remained asleep.

Onyx sighed sadly and wondered why his father had even fallen ill in the first place. It didn't make any sense that his father, a cleanly stallion, careful and a bit paranoid at times, would contract such an illness to leave him bedridden. If he didn't know any better, Onyx would almost say his father had been intentionally afflicted. Despite it being an absurd notion, it was a possibility he couldn't rule out -- mostly because his gut insisted not to.

A pretty mare nurse flashed Onyx a smile as she passed by, and immediately Onyx began revisiting the memories of a time not long ago where his father had tried to land his son a partner for life.

The previous summer, during the week of the Grand Crystal Gala, Onyx had stressed to his father that he was lonely and craved attention, the kind one only received from a mate. King Topaz immediately taught him some valuable lessons about mares and how to treat them, which was first and foremost in picking one up.

Unfortunately, it wasn't only just the lack of knowledge on females that plagued the young stallion -- he had a terrible case no social prowess, complete with a taciturn personality and paired with unsurmountable shyness when speaking to members of the opposite sex. So, the night before the gala, King Topaz gave Onyx lessons for overcoming timidity and approaching a mare that he held interest in.

The night of the gala, Onyx strolled into the ballroom dressed sharply and possessing high hopes. However, at the end of the event, he'd been unable to approach a single mare and left the ballroom single and disconsolate.

His father, displeased that his son had botched such a simple task, offered him no sympathy.

"You either get a wife, or you don't. Either way, when it comes your time to take my place on the throne and run this magnificent kingdom, you'll want a queen. It can get rather lonely without one," his father had warned him.

The message scared him now, sitting at the bedside of his mysteriously ill father. What would happen if his father passed this very instant? Onyx would be thrust into kinghood. He'd no longer be a count, but instead the King of Romaneia.

"Father, I promise you," Onyx said quietly, "that I will run this kingdom perfectly -- with or without a queen. It's my promise to you."

Deep in his heart, though, Count Onyx was afraid... afraid that he'd end up soon as the first king in Romaneian history without a queen.





Back in the keep, Onyx lay reclined on his bed against a large, feather-stuffed pillow, reading some books he obtained from one of the castle's many libraries. One of which was a time of great interest to him -- it was titled, "Of Hearts and Desire." He hadn't been looking for such a self-help, but as he'd sifted through shelves of books for anything about diseases and illnesses, the tome caught his eye. Now, as he lay on his bed flipping through the pages, he was finding out some interesting information.

Squawk! Beakon announced his arrival to the headboard behind Onyx, who smiled up at it.

"Hello there," Onyx greeted his feathered friend. It cocked its head at him, and Onyx returned his attention back to the book.

The tome contained much about how to approach, where to approach, identifying body language, and delved into more intimate subjects eventually, such as  courting and various other topics that made Onyx uncomfortable. He'd never truly "romanced", but he had taken a few mares to bed. It was only possible for him to overcome his awkward shyness by allowing the harlots he "hired" to take him to their place or a hotel -- and provide their services in complete darkness. With the lights on, Onyx simply couldn't bring himself to anything.

Anypony that had seen his performance in the Royal Courtroom earlier would greatly contest the idea that he was "shy"; put him alone in a room with a beautiful mare, however, and watch him crumble like old, weathered stone.

The soft patter of rain on the roof lured Onyx's attention from the book and his jumbled thoughts. The entire ceiling of the keep was glass -- about six inches of it, to be exact. It was made to be strong enough to support the weight of ten ponies, being shot up with the sharpest of arrows, and perhaps a cannon ball, but transparent enough to give occupants of the room the most spectacular of views. Right now, all Onyx could see is a sea of dark grey.

This keep had been his home long enough for him to have already grown accustomed to the layout. He much enjoyed being so high up, as it gave him an impeccable view of the ocean, setting sun, entire sky, and the shopping district of  downtown Romanhoof. Lately, his favorite in the keep had been the enormous verandah facing the sea to the west. Here, he could relax, think, or sing to himself his favorite songs. Simply put, the balcony had become like a second home.

Beakon gave a weak chirp and flapped back up to the top of the huge wardrobe where it chose to roost every night. Onyx followed the parrot with his gaze, then redirected it to the clock over the fireplace before the foot of the bed. 11:10 PM, it read.

Onyx yawned and stared down at the open tome. The words seemed to all blur together.

"Must be time for bed," he said quietly to himself, closing the book and setting it with the others on his nightstand. He stood and shed his black satin robe, laying it at the foot of the bed. As he turned back to his bed, a bright flash of white stopped him. Within seconds, a deep, tumultuous roar vibrated the room -- a summer thunderstorm, the first in nearly a month.

Onyx smiled to himself. He found solace in thunderstorms. Tonight wasn't a night he needed it, but it would surely act as a lullaby, guiding him into a peaceful, deep slumber.

Yawning once again, Onyx hopped onto the bed and slipped under the ever-welcoming covers. He blew out the single candle lighting the room from his bedside table and waited for sweet sleep to embrace him, the sounds of a gentle rain and distant rumbles of thunder quickly lulling him there in no time.





The next day, Onyx sat at the table in the situation room on the fifth floor. Around him were many important ponies: the captain of the Topaz Army, Admiral of the Topaz Navy, the major of the Topaz Air Guard, and the mysterious leader of the Topaz Ranger Brotherhood -- an elite troop of highly-trained knights elected to defend the castle in the event there is danger of it being invaded of overrun. They were also sent on secret missions, most of which Onyx knew nothing about. His father explained that it was better that way.

Today, the meeting was about the current status of the kingdom, security concerns, and the economy of Romaneia. At the table as well we're a couple advisors and Onyx's servant, Ironhoof, although he wouldn't be saying much.

Onyx say at the end of the long, solid oak conference table and listened curiously to the captain as he spoke about the armies bivouacked to the north.

"My soldiers are finding out what high-altitudes can do even in the middle of summer," the grizzly, barritone-voiced stallion pegasus said, sitting back in his chair and folding his massive forelegs across his chest. The captain was a huge, scarred brute of a soldier, his black mane cut short and cropped. His coat of deep, silvery-grey was spotted and striped with various scars, Jo doubt received from battles in his nearly six decades of service to the king.

"Are they properly equipped?" Onyx inquired, raising his eyebrows.

The captain stroked his razor-edged goatee. "Hmm. I'd say so, Lord Onyx. We've enough supplies to remain there another whole winter, if need be."

Onyx nodded. "I don't believe that will be necessary, Captain. Remind me to have your troops pull out from the valley beside Mt. Frost. No reason for them to remain there if the Rebel Federation has gone defunct."

The Rebel Federation was a rather large group of anti-Topaz peasants who had banded together in an effort to overthrow the king over a single edict: the taxation on food. Exiled from Romaneia, the federation attempted to recruit and try a second time, but King Topaz would have none of it. One-hundred thousand troops were deployed to the remote mountains of the northern regions of Romaneia, where the Rebel Federation had set up a command center. The leaders were apprehended and imprisoned, and the roughly two-thousand recruits were disbanded. Despite this, King Topaz left the soldiers there, concerned the federation might still be operating somewhere out in the cold, snowy mountains, plotting against him.

"Yes, Lord. As you wish." The captain looked relieved. Onyx didn't blame him. The Glacier Ridge Mountains were savage and inhospitable -- no place to live or camp at, even for the hardiest of knights.

Onyx had a second thought, turning to the sky-blue stallion pegasus who ran the air force. "Major, do a flyover of the entire mountain range. Look for signs of remaining rebels. After that, the ground forces may retreat."

The Major's eyebrows shot up. "The entire range, Lord?" he asked incredulously.

Onyx leaned forward and swept a foreleg across the mountain range depicted on the large map on the table. "Indeed, Major. The entire range. Before pulling out, we must be certain it is safe to do so. We don't want any surprises later, now, do we?" Onyx eyed the pegasus expectantly, cocking an eyebrow.

The major sat back, sighing resignedly. "No, no we do not."

"Is there something wrong, Major?"

The major hesitated, choosing his words carefully. "Lord, the Glacier Mountain Range is over 90 miles long. That's quite a flight."

Onux smiled. "That's why I trust your soldiers only to get the task done."

The major decided to take the compliment and remained silent.

"Moving on," Onyx said casually, turning to the admiral. He was a maize-colored, grey-maned earth pony, older but nonetheless strong. The wrinkles around his pale green eyes portrayed years of service at sea and his growing weariness and age. Unlike the other division leaders at the table, the admiral was actually quite small for a stallion.

"Yes, Lord?" the stallion asked in a gravelly voice.

Onyx pointed to the sea west of Romaneia, the major thoroughfare for shipping to and from the country. "Have you handled the piracy in the bay?"

"Yes Lord, I have. We've managed to completely clear the coast of pirates, though unfortunately, we had to sink a hostile vessel loaded with stolen gems."

"Losses?" Onyx asked brusquely.

The admiral cleared his throat. "About eighty-thousand gems, Lord."

Onyx cringed. That was almost five percent of the circulating gems in the kingdom. "Heavy loss, Admiral."

"Absolutely, Lord," he agreed, then pointed to a spot about a hundred miles off the western coast. "It was sunk about here, Lord. Would you like me to send a dive and retrieval team to scour the seafloor for the lost gems?"

"Do it."

"As you command, Lord."

Onyx now shifted his gaze to the quiet, hooded figure that was the leader of the TRB. Besides the navy-blue cloak he wore, Onyx could not see much else of the pony. His face was concealed by the shadow cast by his hood.

"It's my understanding, " Onyx began, shuffling through some parchments, finding a report from the TRB, "that you've uncovered some important information for me?"

"Indeed, Lord," the hooded figure said in a female voice.

Onyx raised his eyebrows in surprise. There weren't many mares in the Royal Forces; even less were actual leaders. He'd assumed her gender far too quickly.

"Yesterday, we intercepted a letter to a home in Haydale. The letter was from a suspected conspirer in West Romanhoof, a newcomer to our land from Equestria. The letter contained details about the layout of Tourmaline Castle and a crudely-drawn map. I'm to believe there's an inside source, Lord, based on some of those details." The mare never moved the whole time she spoke, which Onyx found unsettling.

Onyx took a moment to process the information he'd just been fed. Haydale was a town southeast of Romanhoof. He'd only been there once, many years ago. The populace seemed friendly enough, which added to his confusion on why somepony from there would be conspiring against the kingdom.

The admiral suddenly lit up a big cigar, the acrid smoke wafting throughout the room. Onyx scrunched his nose in distaste. He never understood why ponies smoked. He returned his thoughts to the matter at hand.

"You say there's a potential source from within the castle?" he asked the mare, cocking his head to the side. If it was true, the suspect would have to be dealt with swiftly and apprehended before they could share any more information.

"Yes, Lord. Shall I continue my investigation?" she asked.

Onyx gave a hum in response. "Also, were the conspirers in Haydale and Romanhoof apprehended?"

The TRB leader finally moved, but only in the form of a single nod. "They were, Lord. They're in the dungeon as we speak," she said, sounding almost prideful.

"I see... Well, all that aside, was there anything else that needed to be addressed?"

Nopony spoke.

"Very well. This meeting is adjourned until tomorrow," Onyx said.

Before anypony could even budge, the doors to the room burst open, and a panting servant rushed in.

All eyes turned to the strange invasion, but nopony contested it. If a servant was panting, it meant news for the count -- important news.

"Lord Onyx! The queen has fallen and is unconscious!"

Onyx was up and to the door in a heartbeat.

"Take me to her. Now," he demanded.