> Assassination Manifestation
>  by TCC56
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> In which Rarity realizes she, unfortunately, is no John Wick
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

To be asked to have tea with Princess Celestia was a high honor for any pony and no matter how many times she was blessed by the invitation, it never got old for Rarity. Perhaps that was a good thing: even after years of dealing with royalty, the fact that she hadn't become inured to them signaled that she still appreciated how lucky she was. At least, Rarity hoped that was the take-away. 

Never the less: tea with the Princess. (And as much as she cared for Luna and Cadance - to say nothing of Twilight - it was hard not to think of Celestia as THE Princess.) Rarity had of course accepted and arrived a full fifteen minutes early. And perhaps it said all the more about how trusted and valued she was that Rarity was not only escorted to the east solarium early, but left there unattended by the guards while she waited. 

So Rarity was already at the table when Princess Celestia swanned into the room: regal, beautiful, radiant, larger than life in every way. Her beaming smile immediately lit up upon seeing the fashionista and graceful, long strides brought her to the mare's side. "Rarity. It's always a pleasure to see you, and I am doubly glad you accepted my invitation today."

Rarity bowed - then rose into a wing-hug from the ancient alicorn. "How could I refuse a royal request, Your Highness?"

With a little smirk as the hug broke, Celestia nudged Rarity with her wing. "Please. I am called Your Highness by too many ponies already. Have I not earned a 'darling' from you?"

Irregular to be sure, but the years of interaction (and being at least a little inured) meant Rarity knew the signal that she could dispense with the formalities. "Happily, darling. I wasn't certain what tone your request carried."

"The tone of 'off the record'," Celestia clarified, which instantly spiked Rarity's eyebrows with surprise. "Officially, we are meeting for tea so that I may get your advice for Twilight's upcoming birthday." 

"Two weeks from tomorrow," Rarity responded with the swiftness of somepony who had been counting down for a while. 

A nod, and Celestia continued. "In reality, I would like to commission you for a project of the utmost secrecy. One which cannot and must not be revealed to any pony, ever."

Rarity levitated a sketch pad out of her bags, followed by a stick of drawing charcoal. "I would be honored!" Visions and ideas danced behind her eyes, piling up rapidly. 

"I need you to murder my nephew."

Silence. 

Celestia paused to pour out two cups of tea. 

Rarity's mouth opened. And closed. And opened. And closed. And opened. And closed. And then finally managed words. "What?" Well, a word.

"I suppose," Celestia airly commented, "That 'assassinate' would be the more correct term rather than murder. But those sorts of semantics have always been more Twilight's area of expertise than mine."

"What?"

The Princess looked the unicorn in the eyes and smiled an inscrutable smile. "I would think the request was fairly straight-forward, Rarity. While the method is left up to interpretation, I expect the stated goal was obvious."

"I–I–I'm sorry, I just… You want me to murder your nephew. Prince Blueblood." Rarity made a vague stabbing motion with her hoof. "As in, murder-murder. Actually kill him murder."

"Assassinate," Celestia gently corrected. "But yes."

Rarity tried to ask her next question - but was cut off by Princess Celestia raising a hoof. "And you're just about to ask why, because you're a good enough pony to question such things. It speaks to your character that you hesitate. You would not believe how many ponies I have asked this of in the past who have eagerly leapt at the opportunity." She added a touch of lemon to her tea. "It honestly makes me a little uneasy at times how quickly ponies agree to it."

The unicorn was silent, still staring at the Princess with incredulous confusion. 

Celestia sipped her tea before adding in a squeeze more lemon. 

"....And why?" Rarity couldn't hold back the question any longer. 

"Please, your tea." Princess Celestia motioned slightly at Rarity's cup. "As for why… well, are you asking why I would like him killed or why I chose you?"

Rarity opened her mouth - then closed it. Then tried again as she finally picked up her teacup. "Both, if you please."

"There are two halves to each of those answers. For why I chose you, the reasons are fairly straight forward." Celestia sipped her tea again, this time giving it an approving nod. "On one hoof, it is a prime opportunity to funnel a little extra funding towards you. Equestria owes you and the other Bearers great debts for your efforts, and I am always looking for the opportunity to convert that into something tangible."

The designer's ears perked up. "Oh! I would be getting paid for this?'

Celestia nodded. "Of course. I would never dream of asking you to do something for free when a more conventional assassin would be paid. This is a job, not a favor, and it wouldn't be very generous of me if I expected you to do a professional's job without a professional's pay." She paused to sip again. "On the other hoof, I also know that you have a history with Blueblood. The most capable of the other assassins I've hired to kill him are the ones that have a similar background - spurned former lovers, angry business partners, slighted nobles, I'm sure you know the sort."

Rarity raised a hoof to interrupt. "Ah, question. The other assassins?"

There was a record-scratch pause. "Oh." The alicorn pursed her lips. "Perhaps I should have started with your other question instead." She set her tea down and recomposed herself. "Prince Blueblood and I have a long tradition of ordering assassinations of one another. You will be the seventeenth one I have hired against him."

History repeated itself. "...Why?"

The smile that Princess Celestia wore was one rarely seen outside of her closest confidants - a supremely confident and smug smile that made clear she had a cunning plan that was executed to perfection, making everypony dance as if they were her puppets. "Foremost because it keeps him alive. Those who would truly mean him harm only wish to see Blueblood dead and they rarely care how. Knowing there is already an assassin after him causes them to inevitably call their own off - why pay for a task to be done when another is doing it for you? I cannot stop his various enemies from attempting to kill him, but I can pick and choose ones who are both deserving and discreet."

"Discreet," Rarity repeated flatly. 

Princess Celestia nodded. "Those whom I hire have rules to restrict their attempts. First and foremost, no other pony is to be harmed in any way. This is a matter between Blueblood and myself exclusively. No harm is to come to any bystanders, guards, staff, or what have you. Blueblood and Blueblood alone."

Images of just how widely destructive 'assassination' could be flashed through the unicorn's mind. She turned a little green and nodded. "Yes, darling, I do see why avoiding that sort of situation would be preferable."

"Indeed. An assassin I didn't hire might not have such a restriction." Celestia sighed a little. "There are other rules, of course. You are to act alone for similar reasons - bribing a guard to leave a door unlocked is one thing, but I am hiring you, not a team. The more pieces on the board, the more likely it is that somepony will get hurt. You must not be caught, as well. It would not do to have one of the Elements of Harmony arrested for murder. There is also a strict time limit: a week, no more." A playful smile crossed her lips. "There has to be a little challenge to it, after all."

Rarity's laugh was equal parts amused and uneasy, and it died awkwardly. She cleared her throat to try and rally. "Darling, I must ask - what happens if somepony actually succeeded? In killing him, I mean."

The playful smile morphed into something far more devilish. "Well if he dies, he dies. Blueblood is far more resilient than you likely expect, but there is a certain amount of risk to him involved. Besides," she airly added, "If he didn't want to be assassinated, he should have thought about that. He sent one after me first, so this is only fair."

It took several minutes of thought before Rarity nodded. "I accept. As I'm certain you'll simply offer this to another pony if I decline - and I could use the funds - I would only be hurting myself by turning you down." She giggled quietly. "Plus it would feel quite nice to have a little revenge on that cork-horned popinjay."

"Excellent!" Celestia raised her teacup in a salute - which Rarity returned. They drank to the endeavor. "Although," the Princess added as an afterthought, "I expect a lot from you Rarity, and a knife to the chest while he's sleeping is so dull. It would be disappointing if one of the most creative minds in Equestria was unable to find a novel approach."





Those last words had been a challenge, and Rarity would not disappoint. 

Preparations had only taken around a day - far more laborious was doing research on the past attempts. Rarity's sixteen predecessors had been quite varied in their assassination attempts and she wanted to use that to her advantage. Repeating a method that had already failed was both a waste of her time and uncreative - which simply would not do. 

Poison was something she discarded early as a primary method. Fourteen of the sixteen had tried that, and none had done worse than give Blueblood mild indigestion. In fact, one poison - the artfully named Malefactor's Caress - had been declared as his favorite new spice after Blueblood ate a bowl of tainted tomato soup. 

Venomous animals were similarly out, and explained why he currently was keeping a crowing crested cobra as a pet. The rare animal and he had fallen in love at first sight, and he now doted over the deadly monstrosity as if it were a scaly, slightly more murderous cat.

Explosives had been tried twice - the first was why Princess Celestia now had the caveat of not harming other ponies, and the second failed when he changed his hotel reservation at the last minute. A third had used them indirectly, detonating a bomb to topple a decorative stone column on his head. It had missed him by six inches.

That, of course, hadn't been the only attempt to crush him. But universally the seven times things had fallen onto Blueblood, they had missed. It was simply too difficult to aim them effectively, which was a problem echoed by some of the attempts with blades. One in particular had been the work of a highly enterprising clockmaker named Golden Iceberg: an elaborate contraption with almost a hundred different interlocking parts that ended with a bladed pendulum to take Blueblood's head off. It failed when the lucky prince had spotted a coin laying on the ground and bent over to pick it up, sending the pendulum whizzing by to embed into the wall. (The coin, even more illogically, turned out to be a counterfeit three bit piece.)

Most of the other uses of blades were mundane, as had been their paths of failure. Blueblood had his empty bed slashed up three times, his pocketbook stabbed twice, and one attacker had frozen completely when - dagger raised to strike - Blueblood had casually turned around and asked her the time. He had thrown her off her game so thoroughly that she told him the incorrect time, causing him to insult her intelligence which in turn enraged her so much that she tried to stab him in the open and was taken down by his bodyguard. 

There was one rather enterprising attempt to stab him that nearly worked: one of the assassins was a slighted fellow noble, and had simply challenged Blueblood to a fencing match with a sword that wasn't properly blunted. This certainly would have been successful if not for the fact that Blueblood was a master fencer and defeated his would-be assassin fifteen-nil.

Fire and heat had only been attempted once as it was unacceptably unpredictable. Flames have a mind of their own, after all, and one couldn't be sure it would exclusively harm the target. Still, an attempt had been made by way of a sauna: trying to boil him alive. Unfortunately the sauna itself had been old and the increased heat and pressure had caused the pipes to burst long before the steam had reached critical mass. Blueblood slept through it.

Probably the most daring attempt had been an exceptionally determined young lady who had purposely infected herself with nearly a dozen STDs with the intent of passing them along to Blueblood - only to discover he had passed out from too much whisky and was uninterested that evening. She ended up in the hospital for a month and a half, and he had suffered more from the next morning's hangover than her attempt.

In the end, Rarity decided on a three-pronged approach: a lady should always have back-up plans, after all. 

Strangulation was her first choice and with a tool that Rarity felt was inspired. Thanks to a little assistance from the previously mentioned clockmaker, she had crafted a beautiful necklace. Made from gold and with emeralds for eyes, it was shaped to mimic Blueblood's pet cobra biting its own tail. The trick was the invisible internal mechanisms: when placed around the neck, the snake would eat itself and pull the necklace tighter and tighter. Within thirty seconds the term 'choker' would be quite literal as it crushed the victim's windpipe. 

But that relied on the idea that Blueblood would wear the gift and so a second plan was to be ready at the same time. 

That plan was a two-for-one approach that used slightly unique angles. Stabbing had been tried, but thus far nopony had attempted the use of a ranged weapon. Sewing needles were something Rarity knew well, and a little bit of magical push could easily accelerate one to frightening speed. (That had been a lesson Rarity learned from dealing with Rainbow Dash: while Rainboom-level speed wasn't possible, she found that at lower speeds she could absolutely get a needle moving fast enough to clip one of the pegasus' primary feathers and bring her out of the air. Dress fittings had become much more vigorous after that.) 

Just in case a high velocity needle to the brain didn't work, there was poison. All the prior attempts had been via ingestion - so coating the needle with something nasty to get directly into the bloodstream would hopefully bypass Blueblood's shocking resilience. It was an obscure mixture left over from the Sombran days of the Crystal Empire with a horrible name full of rough consonants and slurred vowels. Rarity's supplier (Sunburst, called in by a favor from Starlight) said that the old resistance networks had simply called it 'iceblood' for how it turned a victim's skin deep blue. As far as Sunburst knew, there was no known antidote but he layered that under fourteen different caveats about how the ancient Crystal Empire had limited access to the rest of the world or many modern conveniences so a counter-agent could have been simply out of their reach. Rarity considered it good enough. It was the backup of a backup anyway.

As a final failsafe, she also arranged for a last ditch attempt: a high-pitched sonic beacon spell. Untested and of questionable use, in theory it would attract every creature within a country mile that used echolocation towards the source. It had been one of the spells Twilight had been tinkering with during the vampire fruit bat infestation at Sweet Apple Acres, though it hadn't been used. But in this case it had potential as hundreds of bats swarming Blueblood would at least send him into a complete panic. His running off a cliff or having a heart attack were possibilities, as was the remote chance of a rabid bite. True fatality was unlikely, but it would at least be unique. That, and bluntly Rarity had been running out of time for a tertiary plan.

That merely left setting the stage for the attempts and Rarity getting herself into position. 





The first attempt was simple to initiate: Rarity used the mail. Derpy as a courier for the golden necklace was the correct choice, she felt. The pegasus was reliable with her deliveries - while she was… quirky, she was also somepony whom Rarity knew would get the package to Blueblood. Anypony else, Rarity worried about the possibility of theft. It was, after all, a rather valuable piece of jewelry and your average delivery pony might be tempted. But Derpy was of unimpeachable moral fiber and wouldn't even consider the possibility. (She was also so innocent nopony would believe her taking part in foul play, and her ditzy nature meant that Rarity was unlikely to be implicated if an investigation happened.)

But simply waiting was insufficient. Gruesome as it was, this was still Rarity's hard work and she felt an obligation to appreciate the horrid artistry up front. Fortunately, Rarity also had read enough Shadow Spade novels to understand the power of a good disguise.

So it was not-Rarity casually walked through the halls of Blueblood's mansion, utterly unrecognizable thanks to the fact that she was wearing a baseball cap backwards. Rarity would never be seen dead like that, so she obviously couldn't be Rarity. (She was getting a few odd looks from the staff, but they didn't press the subject so everything must have been fine.) She just had to stop from time to time and vaguely look like she was doing a job - at the moment, she was dusting the top of a table with a cloth she had grabbed at random. 

It was enough to fool Prince Blueblood, as he barely paid attention to the help in the first place.

The front bell rang - and Rarity drifted into viewing range at roughly the same time that the household's butler brought Blueblood around to sign for the package. And while the Prince did give a brief side-eye to the wall-eyed deliverymare, his barely audible grumbling was about the indignity for having to sign for his own packages rather than anything about her obvious disability. (Rarity filed that away as something in the caddish unicorn's favor should she get to speak at his funeral.)

Derpy took off again only a minute later with a tip from the butler. As she vanished into the sky again, Blueblood turned the box over in his magic. He examined it with a critical eye, taking in the little details. The wood's fine cherry lacquer; the intricate carvings at the corner highlighted in gold leaf; Blueblood's family crest rendered in wax as the box's locking seal. Then he cracked it open with a quiet grunt and gasped at the contents. 

The box - a piece of art in and of itself - was tossed away as garbage. 

It took a moment of turning the choker around in the air before Blueblood understood what he was looking at - and when he did? He immediately erupted into cheerful giggles. "Oh! Oh, how wonderful! Posh, come see this!" He held the jewelry up for his butler to inspect. "Such a likeness!"

Posh eyed the floating necklace with the detached professionalism of one used to humoring rich nobles - that is to say, like a butler. "Quite, sir."

Trotting down the hallway, Blueblood beelined for one of the side rooms. "VLADIMIR! Vladimir, come here!" He followed the shout with several loud and awkward clucking sounds as he disappeared around the corner. 

Rarity scrambled to keep up, foregoing her attempt to blend in. She got into view of the room just as Blueblood was leaning over to pat the head of Vladimir - his crowing crested cobra. It was a fairly large snake, almost two ponies long in length but still thin as a whip. The most notable feature on the reptile was not the size, however, but the fleshy crest that ran along the top of its head. While the same pale blue-gray as the rest of its scales, it closely resembled the comb on a rooster's head. That resemblance grew stronger as it flicked its tongue at the necklace in Blueblood's grasp and made soft, curious clucking noises.

The necklace rotated a bit in the air, facing the emerald eyes towards the snake. Vladimir's tongue flicked again at it. "See, Vladimir! It's you! It's just like you!" Another tongue flick. "It's just like you!" Blueblood waggled the golden 'snake' in front of the real one, bobbling it around. Vladimir's head smoothly moved in concert with the waggle, tiny black eyes locked on the gemstone ones. 

Then, like lightning, the cobra lashed out. Faster than Rarity's eyes could track the snake went from curious to murderous. Pin-sharp fangs dug into the gold, snatching the choker out of Blueblood's magical grip before thrashing around wildly. Intricate clockwork contained within artisanally crafted gold smashed as the snake whipped its prey against the floor to stun and disorient. After nearly a minute of brutality, Vladimir decided he had won and pulled the remnants of the necklace into his coils before victoriously crowing like a rooster.

And all the while, Blueblood watched on with a pleased parental smile.

Rarity, on the other hoof, was doing her best not to scream in frustration. 





With Plan A a complete loss, Rarity slipped out of the mansion and threw away her disguise. (She considered burning the offending ball cap, but that would attract far too much attention.) A lady couldn't be frustrated by the smallest inconveniences, she told herself, and so she would proceed to Plan B with grace and dignity. Rarity also wanted to have what Applejack would term 'a hissy fit', but there would be time for that later. 

At a brisk trot, she took off across a late spring Canterlot that was still drying from the previous night's rainstorm. Blueblood's agenda today was a known quantity: he was to attend the dedication of the renovated foal's wing of the Lord Sumptuary Institute For The Terminally Ugly. 

(The Institute was an awkward compromise. Three generations earlier Lord Sumptuary had attempted to place strict dress codes on the residents of Canterlot, insisting that the capital of Equestria and the center of the world demanded a population of similar glamor. Princess Celestia had fought back, and the Institute was created as a halfway point: somewhere Canterlot's disadvantaged could go for help with clothing, personal grooming, and self-care. Her interference transformed it from a repressive force that would have crushed personal expression into one of Canterlot's most important charities for the poor. Of course in a darker timeline where the Princess wasn't quite as sly, Rarity stood at the head of the Institute's Fashion Police with her fabulous baton as was one of the most feared ponies in Equestria.)

Across the street from the Institute was a wonderful little outdoor cafe with the most wonderful scones - Rarity had discovered it while helping Applejack with a jam delivery. Now it was the perfect place to set up and get an angle on Blueblood for Plan B. 

As Rarity approached, she saw her arranged table by the edge of the patio. Fluttershy - already there - waved and Rarity waved back. Fluttershy was chosen very carefully as the companion for this occasion: innocent enough to be a good alibi, timid enough not to charge to Blueblood's aid when he was injured, and still good company to have a pleasant meal with. (She was wrong about two of those three points, but that would turn out to not be relevant.)

"Darling, it's wonderful to see you again!" The pair hugged the second they were close enough. "I know it's only been a few days but I have truly missed being around my friends."

Fluttershy broke the embrace as they sat down at their table - one with a clear line of sight to where the dedication would be. "I've missed you too, Rarity. And so has Opal!"

Thoughts of assassinations disappeared from Rarity's mind at the mention of her beloved pet. "Do tell me what the dear has been up to, darling. I'm certain you have quite the insight to share."

Their conversation started there and meandered across the next half-hour. It was pleasant, it was relaxing, it was normal. And after a week of hardcore murder plotting, Rarity needed that normalcy to re-center herself.

It was perhaps a bit too much normalcy, however, as she almost missed it when Blueblood finally did arrive. The dedication was only starting a few minutes later so he was cutting it close. But that didn't matter to Rarity. He was in place, she was in place, everything was going according to (this) plan. 

The conversation with Fluttershy continued - albeit with Rarity constantly glancing towards the stage - until the dedication actually started. Then it was the perfect moment. Lord Frippery (grandson of Lord Sumptuary) stood at the central podium before a collection of reporters and onlookers. To his left was Raven Inkwell as Princess Celetia's stand-in; to his right were several of the nobles and businessponies who had supported the renovation - including Prince Blueblood.

As Frippery began his speech, Rarity interrupted Fluttershy's commentary on the mating habits of the Griffonian Rose Weevil. "Oh! Well, what's this then?" She pointed behind the pegasus, directing her friend's attention to the dedication.

The pegasus turned to look.

Rarity's magic pulled a tiny glass vial out of her bag. It had to be glass to safely contain the poison. Floating within that translucent blue fluid was a single needle: thin, achingly sharp, and completely coated in the iceblood venom. Rarity cracked the seal, extracted the needle, and floated it up beside her ear. 

Range: fifty yards. Wind: negligible. Intervening obstacles: none. 

She squinted, taking aim. 

The air hissed as her needle shot out, crossing the street and over the audience's heads like Rainbow Dash on the first day of cider season. The conditions were perfect and Rarity's shot was dead on.

Of course, Blueblood yawned at exactly the right/wrong time and tilted his head very slightly to the left. The needle flashed past him, just barely scraping his cheek instead of penetrating his brain.

Once more, Rarity wanted to scream.

But she didn't because she could see a slight hint of red on Blueblood's cheek. The needle had missed her intended target, but it had drawn blood - and that meant that the poison had gotten into his system.

At least, so she hoped. 

She ordered another fancy coffee to ease her nerves.

And as Lord Frippery's speech continued, that hope rose. Blueblood fidgeted on the podium, at first just moving tiny bits as he adjusted himself. After a few minutes, that became little shivers that ran up and down his back, causing him to roll his shoulders and silently grimace. By the time the speech ended after nearly half an hour, Blueblood was visibly shuddering with cold and his lips had turned an icy blue. The applause was polite as the event broke up, allowing the ailing prince to half-stagger away. 

Vinctive joy flashed through Rarity as he came towards the cafe, giving her the chance to look in his eyes as he died. Amazingly even in his poisoned and shivering state, he still managed to move around the muddy puddles in the street. 

He reached the edge of the cafe's patio. Blueblood looked directly at Rarity, face contorted with a mixture of icy cold and a lack of comprehension. Rarity looked back, barely concealing her nervousness under a mask of curious passivity. 

Fluttershy simply looked confused. "Prince Blueblood? Are you alright?"

Blueblood's head slowly rotated to look at the pegasus. "Cold," he muttered. And then lit his horn, stole Rarity's latest coffee (a double vanilla brevè with almond milk), and slammed the entire piping hot drink down. 

Rarity's indignation at having her drink stolen was replaced by shock and rage as the icy tinge on Blueblood's face disappeared from the infusion of hot coffee. 

A drink, an idle part of her mind remembered, would not have been available to the ancient Crystal Empire as it would have been more than a month's journey to the nearest place capable of growing coffee beans. 

That part didn't reach the rest of Rarity's brain, however, as she furiously sputtered as her fifteen-bit drink was stolen to save her victim's life. 

"Chilly today," surmised Prince Blueblood as he tossed a single bit coin onto their table. 

Fluttershy only just barely restrained Rarity's lunge at the prince's neck.

Confident, warmed, and recovering rapidly, he turned to walk off with no more than a slight nick on his cheek. 

That idle part of Rarity's mind called out to the rest that she really needed to get Plan C going. This time, the rest of her listened. The magic took the form of a little cornflower blue bubble - rippling like silk in a strong wind - that shot from Rarity's lit horn to the center of Blueblood's back. 

He failed to notice. Fluttershy, on the other hand, instantly let go of Rarity to slap her hooves over her ears and fall backwards. 

All of Rarity's anger and frustration evaporated away so she could grab hold of her friend. "Fluttershy? Fluttershy, are you alright?"

The pegasus shook her head violently, cringing in pain. And it was in that moment that Rarity remembered the little sonic beacon spell had been designed as part of the fight against the fruit bats - the same incident in which Fluttershy was temporarily transformed into a bat pony. 

Worse yet it seemed to be stronger than Twilight had planned for, as several other pegasi around the cafe and street were wobbling and holding their ears.

Rarity cut power to the spell immediately, but the damage was already done. Fluttershy had been reduced to a whimpering mess and the others affected were visibly disoriented. As if out of spite, fate drove her failure home when poor Derpy came plummeting out of the sky. She crashed hard into one of the many mud puddles on the street, splashing Prince Blueblood but doing no real damage. He disagreed judging by the bloody murder he shouted at being dirtied, but it wasn't anything substantial. Certainly nothing fatal. Plan C had failed, and all Rarity had to show for it was a hurt friend.

She went to her hotel that night ashamed and beaten.





This time, Rarity's arrival for tea with Princess Celestia was far less eager. It was still a privilege to have such a relationship with the Princess, but the stench of failure cast a deep pallor over all of Rarity's thoughts. 

Once more she was escorted to the solarium. Once more she was left to wait as a trusted friend. And once more the Princess entered with a regal smile. 

"Congratulations," she said, much to Rarity's confusion.

"What?"

It wasn't the most suave reply, but Celestia didn't seem to mind. She sipped her tea as she levitated up the morning's Canterlot Sun. The unmistakable headline? PRINCE BLUEBLOOD FOUND DEAD. 

"...What?"

Celestia smirked a little behind her teacup. "Continue that and I may associate 'what' with you more than 'darling'."

The little bit of snark was enough to knock Rarity out of her loop. "I'm sorry, I just don't understand. He was perfectly healthy when I saw him last." She paused. "Unless the iceblood venom actually worked?"

Princess Celestia shook her head and immediately dissuaded Rarity of that notion. "No, that was entirely counteracted by the coffee. Which I will note is actually quite useful information, Rarity, so thank you for the accidental discovery."

Rarity hesitated. "You're welcome? But that still doesn't explain his death."

The teacup lightly set back down on the saucer, and Celestia flipped the paper around to further along the article. She summarized, thankfully. "Blueblood rushed home after being splattered with mud. In his haste he failed to notice that you had greased his bathtub, causing him to slip, fall, and break his neck. His butler found him three hours later, stone dead."

It was dead silent for several seconds before Rarity cleared her throat. "Ah, well, to be perfectly honest darling? I didn't grease a thing. I fear Blueblood tripped and fell entirely on his own, even if I indirectly caused him to dirty his coat in the first place."

Now it was Princess Celestia's turn to be quiet. "Ah," she finally settled on. "I see." Another pause. "Well then!" She tossed the newspaper away, sending it wildly fluttering over her shoulder. "I suppose that's definitive proof that it's better to be lucky than good!"

Rarity stared at her for a moment. "That's the lesson you're taking away from this?"

Celestia shrugged. "Can you think of a different one?"

Silence. Thought. A frown. "...no."

"Then it's what I'm using." The Princess nodded once, firmly, to close out the debate.

There was an awkward silence as both turned to their tea. Several minutes of not looking at each other passed before Princess Celestia finally broke the ice once more. "Is there something on your mind, Rarity?"

Hesitation - then a nod. "Prior to now," the unicorn admitted as she stared into her teacup, "This entire process was something of a mental exercise for me. Given Blueblood's resilience, in my heart of hearts I hadn't truly expected to succeed. Now I find myself attempting to reconcile the idea that I've murdered another pony with my own self-image. It is… less than pleasant."

Those words sat heavy on the Princess. "If it helps any," she offered, "You would have had to confront this sooner or later. Even if none of Blueblood's assassins against me had been successful, eventually Twilight Sparkle would assume my throne. Then she would be his target." 

Rarity perked up. "Oh! Well then that makes it far easier to deal with!"

Celestia blinked. "It does?"

"Oh, quite. If it was for Twilight's sake, then it had to be done." Rarity sipped her tea before continuing. "Darling, remember that we had no idea the Elements would purify Nightmare Moon into Princess Luna. One does not normally associate powerful ancient artifacts shooting magical lasers with good health, after all." She sipped again. "No, all five of us quite willingly checked off the 'will murder a pony for Twilight Sparkle' box long ago. The fact that she's adorably cute and would never ask it of us ironically just makes us more willing to do so on her behalf."

It took a few moments for the ancient alicorn to digest that - which she covered by sipping her own tea. "I see," was her eventual reply. "I suppose I should be glad I'm not the only one who thinks that way."

There was another minute of silence and tea.

"You know, I have a list of other possible threats to Twilight's rule that I could give you," Celestia abruptly offered in the midst of spreading some cream on a scone.

Rarity's smile grew three sizes. "Darling, that would be wonderful. I would love to cross-reference it with the one the girls and I have already been assembling in preparation. We would hate for somepony to fall through the cracks once Twilight's new order comes about."

And so they spent the rest of the afternoon discussing who to murder in Twilight Sparkle's name, as well as finalizing plans for her birthday that Thursday.