1. It started so well, too...
Roam, the capital of Cavallia, was a port city located next to the great Southern Sea, built along the hills and cliffs that rose from pristine beaches. The buildings of Roam were largely constructed of sun-bleached white stone, topped with tiled, sloping roofs. The city’s most notable feature was its mighty aqueduct, bringing fresh water to the city from a hundred miles away; the aqueduct’s gracefully curving structure wound through the city and was decorated with mosaics and stucco drawings and paintings of the myths and legends of the continent as a whole, and Cavallia in particular.
The city’s second-most impressive feature, however, was where the aqueduct let out: the Summer Palace of her Highness, Princess Mi Amore Cadenza, Exarch of the Empress Luna. Perched on a cliff that hung out over the beach, it stood in marked contrast to Canterlot Castle by having few tall towers, instead opting to sprawl widely across the land allotted to it. The palace’s front garden was larger than some sections of Roam, and often opened to the public to house fairs and other events of importance. The great aqueduct of Roam transformed itself into a stream that split in two to wind around the palace in the shape of a heart, before the two streams cascaded over the side of the cliff side and fell down to the ocean below, creating a nearly perpetual natural rainbow. Everywhere the purple-and-gold flag of the Princess Cadenza flew proudly alongside the more ancient white, red, and gold flag of Cavallia itself.
The Princess’ room – within one of the few tall towers that the palace did possess, of course – had two balconies, one looking out to sea, and the other looking in, towards Roam. Cadenza sighed softly from her bedside as she looked out that latter window, where she saw the sun just beginning to creep over the horizon. Seven hundred years of life – give or take a few decades – had put a significant distance between herself and her encounter with Corona, the Tyrant Sun. Though objectively she knew that bound within that burning ball of flame and magic was a mad alicorn who wished to reign supreme over the whole of the world, for the most part – and especially this morning – she could ignore that, and instead focus only on the warmth of the morning sun. She, like almost all of Cavallia but unlike almost all in Equestria, was not afraid of the sun.
Besides, it was difficult to feel fear when one felt so complete. Cadenza felt a stirring next to her, and her smile widened as she leaned down, planting a gentle kiss on the lips of the stallion who was only just beginning to wake up. His name was Sirocco, a sandy-yellow pegasus with a red mane and tail, and a cutie mark of a desert twister. He had been – still was, in fact – a musician and poet of no small skill. He had met Cadenza a year ago now, and the two had hit it off almost immediately, growing steadily more intimate until he had begun to appear beside her at official events, and she had sought him out for advice and council. She had come to trust him, to care for him deeply – to love him.
But the most important moment of their relationship had come last night, when Cadenza had given him the Talk. It was not the talk that parents gave their foals, of course; Sirocco had, in private, read some of his…less publically acceptable…sonnets to her, and they demonstrated a quite adequate understanding of pony physiology. No, this was the alicorn Talk.
“Sirocco,” she had said, when the only light in the room had been the fireplace. “I have had three husbands and one wife. I loved them all, completely, honestly. Each one has, when their time came, died, and it hurt me each time, and thinking back it hurts me still, because I do still love them. But each time, I have moved on, recovered, and been capable of loving once more. And you must understand: the same will happen with you. I will endeavor to make our time together the best time of your life and the best time of mine. I will never leave you while you yet draw breath. I will love you forever. But I will not join you beyond the pale…and after you are gone, though it may take me years or decades or even centuries, I know I will find love again. It would not be fair to you if I did not make you aware of this…and if you cannot bear it, I will understand.”
And she would have, too. Cadenza had been married four times, but she was no stranger to the occasional casual romp between the unmarried, which may have been all Sirocco had been seeking; further, for every one of her spouses who had made it through the Talk, there was a pony who could not reconcile their mortality against her immortality.
Sirocco had thought, long and hard. Cadenza had waited patiently – time being something she had in abundance was the whole reason for the Talk in the first place, after all. Eventually, he had looked to her. “Will there always be a space in your heart reserved only for me?” He had asked.
“Always, unto forever,” Cadenza had promised.
Sirocco had smiled at that, leaning forward. “Then it would be selfish for me to demand any more. I cannot ask for all the years ahead of you – but I can ask for the years yet remaining to me. Can you give me that?”
“I will,” Cadenza responded, leaning towards Sirocco herself. Their lips had touched then, not the reckless, wild kissing of animals rutting, but the kind of kiss that contained a sacred and deep promise, a kiss of love – love no less true for Cadenza, despite her having felt it before, and knowing that she would feel it again. They had spent the night together, entwined around each other, exploring each other as though for the first time, consummating their promise now far beyond what any mere legal ceremony could seek to emulate. Eventually, they had fallen asleep curled up next to each other, lulled to slumber by the gentle sound of their own breathing and heartbeats.
Sirocco was only slowly waking, returning, first on instinct, then under his own volition, the butterfly kisses that Cadenza was planting upon his lips. His eyes fluttered open only once, to see Cadenza looking back at him, smiling, before they closed again, and the two simply lost themselves in each other’s lips again. In time, their kissing ceased, and instead they simply lay next to each other.
Cadenza’s special talent, learned not long before her first love, Cartasole, had asked her to marry him, was love, as exemplified by the crystalline heart that was her cutie mark. She could recognize love, nurture it, help it grow and blossom in herself and in others – indeed, either through her cutie mark itself, or perhaps due to being an alicorn, she could feel it, deep in her own heart and within the hearts of others. Right now, in this moment, love was all she could feel, flowing from Sirocco to her and back again. It was pure bliss, and Cadenza was certain that there was nothing in the whole world that could possibly ruin this moment.
Despite being seven hundred years old, she apparently had only a limited understanding of the fact that the universe listened for such thoughts, and took special delight in spoiling them. In this particular instance, the spoiling came from a series of short, but loud, knocks on the door to Cadenza’s room.
Sirocco’s eyes opened, as he turned to look at the door. Cadenza did as well. She considered putting the horn on her head to use in removing the door, turning it into a solid wall instead. She had wings, Sirocco had wings, the room had two balconies, and Cadenza could teleport anyway: there was no actual need for a door from a strictly utilitarian standpoint.
The knock repeated. Sirocco looked to Cadenza. “Shouldn’t you…?” he began.
Cadenza glared hatred at the door. “No,” she said. “No. The budget is balanced. The citizens are content. The border with Zaldia has been quiet for ten years. It is a beautiful, sunny day. There is nothing that could possibly require my attention – ”
The door to Cadenza’s room burst open – breaking the locks – and a quartet of ponies rushed in. Two were pegasi members of her Honor Guard, wearing purple and gold armor that was ornate but no less functional for it. One dashed over to her ocean-side balcony, closing the doors to it before doing the same to her other, while the other took up a guard position just inside the room. The remaining two ponies were her Prime Minister, Pepe Danza, and her Minister of War, Acciaio Solido. Both were earth ponies, and both wore looks of considerable worry, as did her normally stoic Honor Guard.
“What are you doing?” Cadenza demanded at the intrusion as she stood from her bed. Nopony had ever entered her room without her permission before, let alone burst through the lock, and the sheer audacity of it all overrode her concern at what could have caused such an invasion of privacy in the first place.
“Your Majesty, I am sorry, but the matter is urgent,” Pepe Danza explained, as he and Acciaio Solido both bowed respectively. If either thought anything of Sirocco’s presence, they said nothing. “There are foreign troops massing on our border.”
Cadenza blinked. That was urgent, but it also made no sense. “We are at peace with Zaldia,” she said. “Their King has all but said he has no more interest in pursuing the territorial claims…”
“No, your Majesty,” The defense minister responded. “Not on our border with Zaldia. Our northern border. With Equestria.”
Cadenza stared, eyes wide, as the words rolled through her head. For the first time in her seven hundred years of life, she was treated with the novel experience mortals referred to as ‘heart-stopping panic.’
She did not like it.
“That…that makes no sense!” Cadenza said, stepping forward. “You’re certain?”
“Absolutely, Majesty,” Acciaio Solido responded. “We have had panicked reports coming in for the past hour. No Equestrian troops have yet crossed the border, but they are massing a large force.”
Cadenza’s mouth tried to work, but no sound came out. Equestria…war with Equestria, invasion by Princess Luna, had been prior to this moment inconceivable. Cadenza saw Luna every few years, the two talked and dined…they were friends. Cadenza even saw Luna as something of a mentor figure. And Cavallia and Equestria? There was no history of hate, no precedent for conflict. The border, set by the course of the River Briglia, had been agreed upon fifteen hundred years ago – before Cadenza had even existed – and had never once been violated or argued over. Princess Luna would have had to have gone mad in order to –
Gone mad.
Cadenza blinked a few times as the darkest thought she had ever had crossed her mind, her body freezing in shock, even her breathing ceasing for several moments. Gone mad. Like her sister had – like Corona. Cadenza had seen no hint of madness within Luna when she had last seen her – but then, Luna had seen nothing from her own sister, either. Could it be that this madness was something that crept up on alicorns?
…would it happen to her, too…?
There was no time, however, to consider such a thing. Cadenza looked to Sirocco, who was staring at her with confusion and concern. She had only known him for a year – they had only just consummated their love. Today was supposed to have been a day of peace and tranquility, a day where everything went right. Instead, it was all going horribly wrong. The Princess looked back to her Prime Minister. “I…I am going to the border,” she said.
“What?” Pepe Danza demanded, though he was echoed by the other ponies in the room. “Majesty, no, if this is a prelude to invasion – ”
“If it is a prelude to invasion then Cavallia is lost,” Cadenza responded, wings flaring. “The Equestrian military is second to none. I do not doubt the loyalty of our troops, but they are used to border skirmishes with the Zaldians, and those have all but ended years ago! Cavallia would not survive a war with Equestria. And there is the matter of why this has happened…it is possible that Princess Luna has fallen to the same madness that took her sister. If that is true…then I must act, now.”
Acciaio Solido and Pepe Danza looked to each other. Both were, of course, fiercely loyal citizens of Cavallia, and rightly proud of is long history. Cadenza could feel the love for their country flowing off of them. They did not want to admit that what Cadenza was saying was correct…but deep down, they knew that even if Cavallia could emerge from the other side of a war with Equestria intact, it would not be in any state that they could recognize.
Cadenza turned to Sirocco, pausing only a moment before throwing herself forward, pressing her lips to his. His own wings flared in surprise, before he returned the kiss wholeheartedly, as it was possibly the last that Cadenza would ever receive. “Please, Cadenza,” he said softly, when they withdrw less than an inch from one another, both their eyes still closed. “Return safely.”
“I will,” she promised, turning and heading for her balcony doors before opening her eyes again. If I return at all, she mentally appended.
---
Her Honor Guard had tried to follow, of course, but that simply was not possible. For a pegasus, crossing from Roam to the Equestrian border, specifically the great bridge that spanned the River Briglia, was a trip of nearly a day of hard flying.
Cadenza was not a pegasus, and though she was far younger than Luna, she had nevertheless come into her own over the past seven centuries. She made the trip in three hours, and wasn’t even breathing heavily when she landed on the Cavallian side of the Briglian Bridge. Cavallian troops had been rushed to the border from nearby towns already, though these were the reserves only, most of them having seen too many winters – or too few. Armor didn’t fit, weapons were rusty and held in unsure mouths or hooves or telekinetic grips, and fear was apparent. They gave a cheer when they saw their Princess, but she hadn’t touched earth for more than ten seconds before they crowded around her, asking questions she couldn’t answer and with no sense of military discipline, none knowing who was in charge or what should be done. Nopony had ever expected to need to defend the Equestrian border.
The army on the other side of the bridge, even now setting up a forward camp, was different. It was twice the size, at least, of the Cavallian reserves. Its members were mares and stallions who were all young and fit, clad in blue or silver armor. Their weapons were sharp, and their eyes sure, and the discipline was apparent. Already there were Equestrian pegasi flying over their skies, planning how best to strike and secure the bridge to allow their grounded comrades to cross. If the Equestrians tried to push across the border…they would not be held back. Thus far there was not nearly enough troops to invade and occupy all of Cavallia, but there was enough to make a decent start.
Cadenza separated herself from her citizens after reassuring them as best she could, and trotted halfway across the bridge, right up to a symbolic line painted across its length that denoted the border between Cavallia and Equestria. More than a few ponies wanted to follow, but she wave them back as she waited. After several moments, the Equestrians sent an envoy of their own, the highest-ranked pony, an earth pony captain, who crossed by himself on seeing that Cadenza was similarly unaccompanied. He was nearly as tall as Cadenza, with an off-white and chocolate-brown palomino coat and brown mane and tail.
“Princess Cadenza,” the captain said, bowing respectfully. His words were in Equestrian, of course, and Cadenza needed a moment to adjust her mind from her lyrical, flowing native tongue, to the more guttural, halting Equestrian language. “It is an honor to meet you. I am Captain Pine Needle.”
Cadenza stared at him for several moments. “Indeed,” she said, in Equestrian as well. “Captain, while what the Equestrian military does on Equestrian soil is generally none of my concern, I must admit to a measure of curiosity as to why you and your ponies have decided to do…whatever it is you are doing…so close to Cavallia.”
Pine Needle pressed his lips tightly together. “I apologize,” he said. “But I fear that I cannot answer that question.”
“I understand your hesitation, captain, but I ask that you recall that I am not only the Princess of Cavallia, but the Exarch of my Empress, your Princess, Luna. In the halls of the Night Court my power is equal to that of a vicereine, and my will is subordinate only to that of Luna.”
The captain shifted uncomfortably at that, silent for several moments before steeling himself. “Given the circumstances, Princess,” he said, “you will understand if I feel it is in the best interests of Equestria if I do not acknowledge your exarchy, and instead treat you as the sovereign head of state that, for all intents and purposes, you are.”
Cadenza could not fault Pine Needle for that. She looked past him, at the army. “You look like you are preparing for an invasion,” she noted, then looked back to Pine Needle. “Cavallia is a peaceful land, captain, unused to the scourge of war. We have been friends of Equestria for more than a thousand years – longer than I have reigned. We have no desire for a war, nothing to gain from one, and everything to lose.”
To his credit, Pine Needle did not point out that Equestria could crush Cavallia underhoof if a war really was about to begin, and so what it desired was largely irrelevant. Instead, he grimaced, glancing past Cadenza and to the stalwart and brave – but utterly unprepared – Cavallian defenders. After another moment, he stepped closer to Cadenza. “Princess, what I am about to tell you must be held in the strictest confidence,” he said quietly. “My ponies were ordered to march to the border with Cavallia and secure it. No reason was given, but I have been ordered to prepare for a defensive war, not an invasion.”
Cadenza blinked rapidly at that. “Cavallia would never invade Equestria!” she hissed quietly.
“Princess, I believe you.” Pine Needle responded. “Before we sallied forth, I was made aware of additional defensive preparations with Zaldia, the Griffin Kingdoms, and Pferdreich. And orders have been sent to the provincial lords to raise troops – a million ponies immediately, with additional conscriptions to be anticipated. These orders sound to me as though Equestria is expecting to defend herself, not attack.”
Cadenza scowled in confusion as Pine Needle withdrew from her, and she stepped back herself. “Equestria,” she intoned, “is unchallenged in its hegemony over the continent.”
“I know, Princess. I am only a soldier, following my orders.” Pine Needle stood up straighter. “Princess, I promise you that, should war be declared, if I am ordered to invade Cavallia, I will conduct the war in as civil a manner as possible, do everything I can to keep losses on both sides to a minimum, and will treat the citizens and the land of Cavallia with the utmost respect.”
Cadenza glared at Pine Needle. “You will forgive me, captain, if I do not feel much like thanking you for your considerations.”
The captain inclined his head in understanding. “With your leave,” he said, bowing, though he did not wait for actual permission before turning and trotting back across the bridge, to his troops.
Cadenza, meanwhile, mulled over the information she had acquired as she returned to the Cavallian side of the river. Nothing the captain had told her made even the slightest modicum of sense, and Pine Needle had known that, too. He was no more eager to fight a war than Cadenza was, was only acting like any good soldier would. There was no casus belli on either side…and Equestria was apparently acting paranoid, ordering defensive measures, preparing for an attack even though no other nation on the continent – nor, indeed, even any combination of nations, excepting perhaps if every single one worked together – could challenge it.
Corona had acted much the same. In her final days before exile, Corona had been utterly paranoid of Equestria being invaded, had intended to relocate hundreds of thousands of ponies from the Equestrian frontiers into the interior to ‘protect’ them. But on the other hoof, Corona had at least, at the time, had the large and powerful Griffin Empire to contend with. But the Empire was gone seven centuries now, the last Emperor of All the Griffs having died without an heir. Civil war had reduced the once-mighty nation to a collection of squabbling kingdoms more concerned with their own gratification. If Luna had gone mad…there was no impetus, no reason.
Cadenza was amongst the Cavallians now, who were looking at her expectantly. She stared back at them, blinking a few times. Cavallia would not win a war with Equestria. Not even an Equestria stretching itself dangerously thin by attacking all its neighbors. But what could she tell these ponies to do? To simply let their homeland be conquered? Through the ethereal senses her cutie mark granted her, she could feel the love that the citizen-soldiers had for the land beneath their hooves, for the nation of Cavallia. She could not simply tell them to back down: they would ignore her.
The alicorn turned back to the bridge, horn glowing bright blue. A matching aura traced its way around the Cavallian half of the bridge, advancing up its length and rooting itself firmly into its stonework. With a twitch of her head, the Cavallian half of the bridge was torn loose, separated from the Equestrian side. As the Equestrians and Cavallians both looked on, Cadenza brought the bridge over to the Cavallian bank, laying it down on its side, before turning back to her ponies.
“The Equestrians,” she told them, “claim that they are preparing for a defensive war only. For whatever reason, they think we mean to invade them. They are mistaken, and the captain of the Equestrian forces over there, Pine Needle, has expressed no desire to begin a war. If they are telling the truth – if they fear Cavallian invasion – then this should assuage their fears.”
Cadenza looked to each of the gathered ponies before her. “I must fly to Canterlot,” she said. “Something is wrong here, very wrong, and I must learn what. Do not do anything to antagonize the Equestrians until I return. There will be no war while I yet draw breath.”
It wasn’t much of a speech, and it was hardly the great rallying call that these reservists needed. She received applause, but only because she was the Princess. They were too afraid right now to cheer. With a grimace, Cadenza turned around, flapping her wings a few times and landing on the thin air where the bridge now gave out. Pine Needle was already standing there, apparently having anticipated her return. He was looking down at the river beneath him, and when Cadenza landed, heaved a sigh of relief. “Thank-you, Princess,” he said. “If war were to break out, regardless of its nature I would have had to secure both sides of this bridge. Now, as long as I’m expected to be on the defense, I will not have to.” He looked up at her. “I have no desire to attack old ponies and foals.”
“And I have no desire for you to attack them,” Cadenza said. “Captain, you are disregarding my exarchy, and you are right, under the circumstances you should do so. In that case, I approach you now as the Princess of Cavallia, and ask permission to cross the border into Equestria that I might go to Canterlot and speak with your Princess.”
Pine Needle looked hard at Cadenza for several long moments. “Permission granted,” he said at length, inclining his head, “on one condition.”
“And that is?”
“Find out what in Tartaros is going on.”
---
Once before, Cadenza had flown by herself over the skies of Equestria. Then, she had been entering with a heart full of hope and wonder, and a belief that she would soon share its throne with Luna – as she had also believed, at the time, that she was Celestia reborn. Then, she had flown at a comparatively leisurely pace, as she had wanted to take the time to mentally prepare herself and survey her soon-to-be-diarchy.
In spite of herself, Cadenza couldn’t help but smile at the memory. It was hard to believe that she had ever been that pony – then again, having suddenly gone from being a simple earth pony to an alicorn when most would have received their cutie marks, could she really be blamed for making such assumptions?
Cadenza held on to the emotion of bemusement for as long as possible. She did not know what waited for her in Canterlot, but she doubted it would be very amusing. The bemusement was soon lost on the wind, however. She was flying at supersonic speeds, exceeding even those that had carried her from Roam to the River Briglia. Canterlot was more than three times that distance, and by the time the tall peak of the Canterhorn – and the rocky plateau that Canterlot sat upon – had come into view, it was several hours past noon, the sun now descending through the sky.
Cadenza did not want to look like she was invading, but several hours of flying alone with her thoughts had not been good for her panic, her worry that waiting for her in Canterlot would be a corrupted, insane Luna. Would Cadenza even be able to challenge such a being? Both were alicorns, it was true, but Cadenza was not yet even a millennium old, while Luna, on the other hoof, had forgotten her exact age. Luna moved the sun and the moon and was a being of unspeakable power. Cadenza was certainly a league above most, if not all, unicorn mages and pegasi weather-makers and with endurance exceeding that of any earth pony; she had personally defended Cavallia on occasion from the odd rogue sea serpent or ornery star beast that was beyond the ability of Cavallians themselves to safely deal with, but Luna was a step beyond her.
Nevertheless, Cadenza fought against her pure instinct – to crash in through the throne room’s windows and begin the battle immediately, surprise being the only advantage she would have over Luna, and instead came to a landing within the courtyard of Canterlot Castle at a reasonable speed, resolving to at least give Luna a chance to defend her actions.
She wasn’t immediately noticed. Ponies were dashing about everywhere already, moving with determination and more than a little panic in their eyes. The air was already thick with pegasi, and there was enough commotion that the Night Guard of Canterlot Castle had not even noticed her arrival. That was not a good sign – nor were the dark stormclouds floating over the castle and only the castle. Cadenza’s special talent may have been love, but she could with a degree of willpower bend her senses to other emotions as well. And the only emotion she felt now was panic.
Cadenza grimaced. This did not bode well as she strode through the castle, looking left and right. Several ponies acknowledge her with a nod, but none stopped her as she moved until she reached the outer doors of the throne room itself.
Here, at least, she was finally acknowledged, two Night Guards snapping to attention at her appearance. “Exarch Cadenza!” One, an earth pony, exclaimed. Cadenza vaguely recognized him, though she could not recall his name – he must have been serving as part of Luna’s escort when she had last visited Cavallia. “We were not told of your coming!”
Cadenza looked between the two Night Guards. “My visit is a surprise to myself as well,” she said. “I would speak with Princess Luna concerning a grave matter.”
The two Night Guards standing outside the throne room looked between each other, each grimacing awkwardly. “Now is…not a good time.”
Cadenza scowled. She wrapped magic around her throat. “I have broken sound in twain in my haste to come here,” she proclaimed, amplifying her voice many times over, making her sound as though she were many ponies speaking as one. She further made her entire form glow with crystalline, angry red light. She did not like doing this particular trick, but she had to admit that it certainly tended to make her point when she needed to play the part of alicorn in wrath rather than statespony. Her surprise would not be ruined, either – she knew that, when the doors to the throne room were shut, it was entirely soundproofed. “On the border of my land an Equestrian army stands poised to invade. I would have words with your Princess on this matter. You cannot impair my progress. I suggest you instead aid it.”
The two Night Guards grimaced further. They did not appear intimidated by Cadenza – much, anyway – but both reacted to her mention of army. Considering for several moments, the two nodded almost as one, and opened the door to the throne room.
Cadenza had been in it before, of course. It was carved of marble and granite, supported by tall pillars with the ancient laws of Equestria inscribed into their surfaces, and illuminated by stained glass windows that depicted great and heroic events in its history. A deep purple carpet ran down its length, eventually reaching a raised dais upon which sat the throne of Princess Luna, wrought from silver and obsidian and surrounded by flowing pools of water.
What Cadenza did not know to expect was the state of Luna. Would she be sitting in there, waiting for her? Would there be some crisis that Cadenza was not aware of – some logical reason for the armies of Equestria preparing for imminent invasion? Or would Cadenza instead find a dark tyrant, a black twin to the Tyrant Sun, waiting for her, ranting and raving in paranoia and delusion?
Certainly Cadenza did not expect to find Luna not at her throne, but instead standing amongst two ponies and a griffin, a look on her face not of concern, but exasperation and more than a touch of embarrassment.
That the two ponies and griffin appeared to be shouting both at Luna and each other was a surprise as well.
“…utterly unacceptable!” concluded one of the ponies, his Equestrian thick with a Pferdreicher accent.
“…will not stand for this!” finished the second pony at the same time, her own accent Zaldian – similar to Cadenza’s own lilt, she imagined, though somewhat more nasal.
“…think that the Kingdoms vill simply roll over, you have another thing coming!” appended the griffin. His own accent was not at all dissimilar to the Pferdreicher’s.
Luna looked about to respond, when she noticed that the doors to her throne room had been opened. Her eyes widened at the sight even as one of the Night Guards strode just in front of Cadenza.
“Majesty,” he announced loudly, “your Exarch, the Princess Cadenza, insists on seeing you concerning…” he trailed off for a moment in nervousness, before continuing. “I suspect it relates to the matter at hoof, Majesty.”
“She can vait!” The griffin exclaimed loudly, beating his wings several times. “Princess, it is trying enough that the noble Griffin Kingdoms must parlay alongside these two – ”
“I beg your pardon?” The two ponies demanded at once.
“But I vill not put the security of the Kingdoms on hold that you might treat vith your vassal!”
Cadenza’s own eyes widened at that, her wings flaring. “Mi scusi?” she demanded, forgetting her Equestrian for a moment as she trotted forward. “Cavallia non è un vassallo!”
“It sort of is,” The Zaldian observed, tapping her hooves together. Apparently she understood Cavallian. “I think. The situation has always been very confusing to me – ”
Luna rolled her eyes slightly, taking a few steps towards Cadenza. “Please, Cadance,” she said, her voice strained. “Whatever the situation is, it will have to wait a moment. There is something of a crisis right now thanks to – ”
“Something of a crisis?” The Pferdreicher echoed. “You call three Equestrian legions appearing on our border something of a crisis?”
Luna looked to him, raising her hoof. “It is a serious crisis, ambassador, it was merely a turn of phrase…”
“And unimportant!” The griffin exclaimed angrily, beating his wings as he took to the air and pointing one claw at Luna. “You may think us as petty and broken, Princess, but the Kingdoms vill unite against Equestrian invasion! Mark my words!”
“As I’ve been trying to explain to you, ambassador, Equestria is not – ”
“Just because you are an alicorn, you cannot presume to order us around!” The Pferdreicher shouted.
“Ambassador, I have never sought to use my own personal abilities as a – ”
“Zaldia has never recognized your blatant annexation of Latigo, and now you are seeking to turn us into a vassal as well!” The Zaldian exclaimed.
Luna grimaced, and looked back to Cadenza. “As you can see,” she said, waving her front hooves to indicate the three ambassadors, “there was an incident while I slept.”
Cadenza blinked a few times. “Um,” she said. She really didn’t know what to say – the ambassadors weren’t entirely a surprise, but Luna not rebuking their attitudes or anger in any way was. She did not seem like a pony intent on conquering the world, which made the situation all the more confusing. “It’s just that, there’s a number of Equestrian troops on Cavallia’s border as well.”
Luna stared at that. So, for that matter, did the three ambassadors in the room.
“What?” Luna asked.
The griffin ambassador recovered second, swiftly flying over to Cadenza’s side and landing beside her. “Ha!” he exclaimed. “Now, ve have an alicorn of our own to aid us!”
“What?” Cadenza and Luna demanded at the same time.
Even as the two alicorns stared at each other in confusion, the other two ambassadors joined Cadenza. “Yes!” The Pferdreicher exclaimed. “Yes, ve do! A united front against Equestrian imperialism!”
“What?”
“An alliance of the aggrieved!” The Zaldian said, throwing one hoof over Cadenza’s withers in what was probably supposed to be camaraderie. “I see now…you feared how close Zaldia and Cavallia have come over the past ten years! Reconciliation efforts that Princess Cadenza herself supported!”
“What?” Cadenza inquired.
“Ve stand strong!”
“Huh?”
“And united!”
“We are?”
“As one!”
“As what?”
“You cannot – ”
“Wait!” Cadenza demanded, flaring her wings in order to get the Zaldian ambassador off of her. She cantered away several paces – towards Luna. “Wait, wait, wait. Wait.” A pause. “Wait.” A longer pause, as the younger alicorn’s head whipped between Luna and the three ambassadors. “I feel I am missing some context here…”
The doors to the throne room opened again. “Your Majesty!” A tall, powerfully-built earth pony mare with a steel gray coat, wearing the armor of the Captain of the Canterlot Guard, said as she entered the throne room, shoving a much shorter, green earth pony in front of her. “Your Majesty, here is Quick Fix. He was hiding in the wine cellar.”
“I sympathize,” Luna muttered under her breath, low enough that only Cadenza could hear it, and that only due to her alicorn senses. Quick Fix was a small, squirrelly-looking earth pony, wearing a vest festooned with silver buttons. On finding himself in the throne room, he straightened his vest, looked to the ambassadors, to Cadenza, to Luna – and on seeing his Princess, turned and tried to flee. The captain of the guard stopped him with one outstretched hoof, shoving him forward again, where he was quickly wrapped in the dark blue glow of Luna’s telekinesis and brought forward, past the ambassadors, past Cadenza, and to right in front of Luna, who was doing a very poor job of containing what looked – and, to Candeza, felt – like a significant amount of anger.
“Ambassadors,” Luna said, turning Quick Fix around to face the two ponies, one alicorn, and one griffin. “Princess Cadenza. This is Quick Fix, majordomo of Canterlot Castle.”
“A glorified butler?” The Zaldian demanded.
Cadenza coughed. “In Equestria,” she observed, “a significant amount of power has devolved onto the position of majordomo over the centuries…”
“Oh,” Luna observed, nodding, “that will be changing. Yes. Quick Fix, earlier today when I woke up, you explained your brilliant and master stratagem to me. Please explain it to the ambassadors and Princess.”
Quick Fix fidgeted. “Ah,” he observed. His voice was high, though Cadenza suspected that might have been sheer panic. “Yes….well. Um. Haha…you see…haha…see, the Princess…Princess Luna, that is…she values…actions speak louder than words, right? S-so…um…see, the Princess, she can’t be reached up in her room. Except by teleporting or flying, but not even then, most of the time, since…well, since she seals it off. So…and really, this seemed like a good idea…see, actions speak louder than words, and I thought…well, I thought that…actions…seemed like a good idea to show the Princess that this was a bad idea. I mean…well. Now that I think about it hasn’t been a problem for thousands of years…but it might be, right? So I…sort of…a bit…with perhaps a touch too much realism…staged a coup while she was sleeping to show that – ”
“A what?” Cadenza demanded.
Luna rolled her eyes as her majordomo’s stalling. “A coup d’état,” she explained. “Quick Fix here apparently decided that in order to convince me to have stairs leading to my chambers, he should stage a false coup.”
There were several long, long moments of silence at that. Even the immortals in the room thought that it went on for a notable length of time.
“…and it had to be believable!” Quick Fix exclaimed. “S-so…I drafted defensive orders – defensive! No invasion! – orders for the army…told th-them to defend our b-border with Pferdreich, a-and the Griffin Kingdoms, and Zaldia, and Caballeria…”
“Cavallia,” Cadenza corrected automatically. Even as she did, she felt a sinking feeling in her stomach, a sinking feeling that was confirmed by the odd look that Quick Fix gave her.
An odd look that swiftly rose to one of horrified realization. “Oh!” he exclaimed. “Oh, I…ha…I m-must have written down…must have ordered Cavallia instead of Cabelleria…silly me…they do sound alike – ow!”
The last came when Luna used a hoof to smack Quick Fix over the back of his head. Given the strength contained in that hoof, it was a testament to Luna’s restraint that she only sent him stumbling slightly.
“I don’t believe this,” The Pferdreicher said. “This…this was all a result of this idiot?”
“The Kingdoms are electing a High King in panic over this?” the griffin demanded.
“You threatened our border over nothing!” The Zaldian exclaimed.
The griffin beat his wings, taking to the air. The two ponies each raised their hooves, getting ready to gesticulate profusely as they prepared to shout. Each was about to demand reparations, and Quick Fix’s blood.
“Ha!” Cadenza blurted.
The three ambassadors, princess, and majordomo looked to Cadenza, who had her front hooves covering her mouth. She made it only a few more moments before laughter came bursting forth, and this time, her hooves were not enough. Luna hadn’t gone mad. Cavallia wasn’t in any danger. Cadenza would not have to do battle with the ancient alicorn. This was all the result of a tremendous act of stupidity over the most mundane, most banal thing possible. And that was hilarious.
Her laughter forced her to the floor, one hoof clutching at her already aching side as the other pounded the granite beneath her. She was vaguely aware of the ambassadors demanding that she stop, but the seriousness with which they were treating the situation only made her laugh harder. She was also conscious of being hefted by two Night Guards, who carried her hysterical form between the two of them, probably at Luna’s order to take her some place where she could calm down. Through tear-filled eyes she was conscious of being placed in a side room, where she could laugh, chortle, guffaw, and otherwise howl to her own content.
And she did.
---
“That,” Luna said, many hours later, “was the worst day I have had in centuries.”
Cadenza looked at the goblet in Luna’s telekinetic grip. It had previously been filled with something red; now, it held only a few drops. From the slight glaze to Luna’s eyes, it wasn’t her first goblet, either. Cadenza looked to Luna with a somewhat worried expression.
Luna matched it even as her horn glowed and the cup began to magically refill itself. “Last one,” she promised, putting a hoof to her chest. “Last one. I swear.”
Cadenza considered, and decided that, what with Equestria nearly ending up at war with not one, not two, not three, but four nations today, Luna was fully entitled to something to try and steady her nerves. She conjured her own goblet. “I’m more bothered by the fact that you did not wait for me,” she said, filling it herself, putting the goblet just below her muzzle before taking in its scent. Magically created it may have been, but it was also a precise replica of the wine her adoptive family had used to create, seven hundred years ago. The vineyard still existed, of course, but time and tide had changed the flavor over the centuries. What was in her goblet now was the wine she had grown up making and drinking herself, a vintage only she could produce.
Luna nodded a few times at that, before holding her goblet forwards. “To close calls,” she toasted. Cadenza tapped her own goblet to Luna’s, before each took a swig. To Luna’s credit, she took only a measured sip, apparently wanting her last goblet to last. The two of them were in the balcony room of Canterlot Castle, located in the tallest tower and just below Luna's chambers - and Celestia's, though they had gone unused in centuries, of course. The floor beneath them had a detailed map of Equestria on the floor, and an even more intricate star chart on the ceiling, and possessed a trio of balconies looking north, east, and west. The two alicorns sat at the northern balcony, looking out at Luna’s moon as it neared its zenith in the sky, and the multitude of constellations that adorned the sky.
“So,” Luna said, disturbing the silence. “The griffins want a demilitarized zone between Equestria and the Kingdoms. They wanted some provinces, too, but I talked them out of it. I don’t know how. I managed to convince them to accept the Skyshaper Peaks as the zone. Ponies don’t go there anyway. Except the Crystal Empire. Crystal ponies live there.” She breathed out a long breath from her nostrils. “No army at their border, thank goodness. I’ve just got them to start trusting me again. And Pferdreich, Pferdreich wants…wants…” she grimaced. “I can’t remember. Written down somewhere, I know. Reasonable enough. They’re a democracy, you know. I’ll just wait fifty years…a hundred years…and they’ll forget all about this. Wonderful thing, democracies.”
Cadenza nodded. Luna was mostly talking for the sake of talking right now, she knew. “What about Zaldia?” she asked.
Luna shook her head. “Nothing. Just angry. I…I’m sorry, Cadance. I think that I may have made things difficult for you…the Zaldians might want a buffer…might think that we’re out to get them…I’m sorry…”
Cadenza shifted uncomfortably, and not just from Luna’s attitude – that, she placated by stretching out a wing, putting it around Luna. Luna responded with another drink of wine. No, what made Cadenza uncomfortable was the feeling she got off of Luna when she spoke, when she apologized. And the fact that she had, once again, called her ‘Cadance’ – after seven centuries, Luna still could not get her name right, not wholly, instead preferring the Equestrian translation of it.
Cadenza had some suspicions about why that was, suspicions tied to the feelings that came pouring out of Luna whenever she let herself become vulnerable – two feelings in particular: regret, and love, love enough to drown the burning sun and warm the cold moon. She drank from her own goblet of wine. One night, she might work up the courage to ask Luna about that love…to see if her suspicions were true.
But not this night. Luna had enough on her plate right now, she didn’t need any added burdens. Cadenza instead straightened herself. “Well,” she said. “Having placated the Griffin Kingdoms, and the Pferdreichers, and the Zaldians, I suppose that leaves one aggrieved nation. Cavallia. As its Princess, I feel I must also settle matters between the Principality of Equestria and the Empire of Cavallia.”
Luna looked to her. Even in her slightly inebriated state, she noted the gleam to Cadenza’s eye, the fact that Cadenza, despite her tone, was not taking her stance very seriously. She sat up straight herself, taking on as regal a pose as was possible for her at the moment. “Very well, Princess Cadenza,” she said, apparently choosing to ignore that technically, she was the Empress of Cavallia. “In the interests of international peace, what can Equestria do to placate your nation?”
Cadenza smiled. “Install some stairs to your room.”