Reports swam through Collar’s vision more and more in the wake of Rosewater’s crossing the river peacefully. Spies watching her had to be more active, and they reported nearly all of her movements.

That she’d taken Cloudy’s promise and advice was clear, what it meant to his ‘date’ with her in a week’s time was still cloudier than yesterday had been, with its rain and storm and more promised sometime in the coming days, when Cloudy had said she and Rosewater had a second date.

The autumn rains had come, and with them the promise of a snowier than usual winter. It was already making the harvest more difficult, too, and his mother’s decision to ask to postpone the gala seem prescient.

If he hadn’t already known that the weather corps was on reduced staffing to help keep the fields at least clear and extend the anti-banditry patrols out beyond the borders of Dammehollow.

The various tribes of ponies and others that eked out an existence in the hinterlands tended more often than not to prey on the ‘fat’ and ‘weak’ city ponies and their crop-growing for the increasingly sparse grazing and foraging opportunities.

They, along with the deerkin that both welcomed and denigrated them for their envy of the city pony, would be moving south soon to warmer pastures and the greater risk of being captured by the royal patrols that marked the greatest benefit thus far of joining the growing expanse of the Equestrian state.

That still seemed like a far off time, when either Merrie or Damme could count on the Royal Guard to do more than a cursory patrol here or there.

“You’re getting report-faced again,” Cloudy said as she slipped into his office quietly and closed the door behind her.

“Shut up.” He glowered at her half-heartedly as she set a tray of scones and tea on the desk. “This is half your fault we have so many reports lately.”

Cloudy flicked her tail, and he dutifully silenced the walls. “I won’t let her wallow. She’s… not even close to who we thought she was, Collar. She’s not as strong as she thinks, emotionally. Six years has drained her.”

That much coming from her was a surprise on its own. “You sound almost like—”

“I’m not in love with her. But I owe her at least the courtesy of being honest. I like her. I could fall in love with her, I think.”

Collar blinked owlishly and focused on the tray of snacks instead of trying to feel out what he was worried about. Light snacks. Little more than half a scone and a cup of steaming tea with a tiny pot of honey to sweeten it.

“It’s not a bribe, Collar, stars. You’re not going to lose me to her, even if I fall in love with her.”

“It’s not…” He started, then stopped when her jaw firmed and she fixed him with a stare. It isn’t, exactly, that. “Okay, it’s partly that, and I do wonder how you’re going to manage everything.”

“Rosemary. She’s been my dating secretary before.” Cloudy snorted and shook her head. “She can be yours too, if you want. She’d be happy to do it. It’s something for her to do while she’s cooped up.”

“I don’t need a dating secretary,” Collar grumbled.

“That’s you missing your morning tea talking.” Cloudy sat beside him and took a bite from her half of the scone. “It’s not even dawn yet and you’re already awake.”

“I was busy getting report-faced,” Collar grumbled, scooping all of the honey into the tea and mixing it up. “Rosewater’s spent more time at the Garden than she has at home during the day. Some of the spies her mother set on her are getting antsier about her visiting, and even confronted her on her way home last night.” He pushed the report at her.

“Goons,” Cloudy said after a moment, her voice almost a growl. “I recognize the descriptions. They chased me across the river.” She read on, jaw tightening more and more as she did so before setting it down. “She doesn’t deserve that.”

“No.” He gave the report another read, making a note on the report about Cloudy’s comments before signing it with ‘no further action’ ticked. It was odd, reading about her encounter, they shouting and cajoling loud enough that their aural mage on station had hardly needed a spell to overhear, and she staring blankly at them, unanswering until their drunken tirade leveled off.

She was stronger than Cloudy seemed to think she was. Unless… what Cloudy was asking her to do was a different kind of stress, and she wasn’t ready to face that. Collar scrubbed at his cheek and sighed, flipping the page over again. Too many unknowns.

“I did see where they’re setting up a campsite outside of Merrie,” Cloudy said quietly. “They’ve been at it for a couple of days now. It’s looking very posh and comfortable.”

“Where you’re going with her next?” Collar asked, trying not to think about the fact that Cloudy said she expected it to be a sexual meeting. “It’s large enough for a few families.”

Cloudy ducked her head briefly. “She let me know the details yesterday before she departed. Some of the Gardeners are coming, trusted close friends she said.” Her eyes met his briefly. “It’s a welcoming party for Rosewater as much as it is for me. It’s been so long, Collar, since I’ve been to something like this.”

“Like an orgy,” Collar said, hating the harsh note in his voice, not wanting to think that she might find another stallion she liked there.

“Stars, yes. It’s so much more than sex, Collar. That’s the focus, but it’s the letting down of walls, the reveling in friendship and companionship, not needing to hide what I want for a single night. Even from my lovers.” She tapped his shoulder. “You’re the only one I’ve shared so much with here, but outside of our bedroom, or here, I have to clam up and be a good little Prim.”

She said it cooly, but there was an undertone of frustration there that he’d not seen often in her before.

“What I want…” She sighed and settled in against him. “I want a night where I can let go for a little while, be… free.”

What I want. Collar swallowed and stared down at his hooves perched on the edge of his chair. “Is that missing here?”

“Yes!” Cloudy hugged herself and folded her wings about herself. “Stars, Collar, I don’t mean that I don’t love you, but I miss what I learned was normal and natural. I miss being able to talk frankly about normal things in mixed company. I miss being able to let my guard down around other ponies. I was able to let go with Rosewater on our first date, and not worry that she would think less or differently of me the next day.”

After a moment, Collar raised a hoof, stopped, and stepped to the floor, pushing his chair away. He pulled Cloudy in close and rested his chin between her ears. “I love you, Cloudy.”

She hiccuped in his embrace, her wings opening and closing again around him, her forelegs crossed against his chest. “I love you, too.”

“What can I do? How can I make you more comfortable here?”

“Hold me,” she whispered, pressing in closer, tucking her head under his jaw, her ears flat. “Talk to Rosemary, listen to Rosewater. She’s…”

He felt her jaw work slowly as words tried to come out.

“Made some poor decisions,” Collar said softly, shifting and adjusting his hold on her to be more comfortable. “But is this the right decision?”

“Allowing her to court us?” Cloudy asked.

“Yes. Is that right?”

She didn’t answer him immediately, and didn’t try to, simply letting her warmth and his pervade the blanket her feathers made around them.

“I want to try, Collar. I want to try to see where this goes.”

It wasn’t an answer for the two of them, but that was the way of Merrie. Romance was a personal choice, and sharing love was free. He had his own ‘date’ with Rosewater two days after Cloudy’s next date. It still amazed him that she could move from casual knowledge to friendship to sex so quickly.

But, to her and most Merriers, sex was simply another activity friends could engage in. There was also an added feeling of urgency in not only Cloudy’s dealings with the mare, but in Rosewater’s pushing.

It was something he and Cloudy had only briefly touched on, and awkwardly for both of them, during their relationship.

Children. Rosewater’s ultimate goal, and her want, was a child to confirm her heirship. It was hard for him to accept that as a legitimate goal for wanting children, but one he understood as necessary.

Why did she have to focus on me? He might as well ask himself why he’d accepted the mad scheme she’d dropped on them all. Or blame Rosemary for falling back into Cloudy’s life. Or blame Cloudy for being a Merrier.

He couldn’t do that. No more than he could blame Rosewater for wanting somepony safe to even talk to. He could also hope that Cloudy pushing her back into public life would help her find somepony other than him.

“I accept that,” Collar said finally. “I accept your wants and desires, Cloudy, and accept you. And I still love you. I’m still in love with you.”

Her look as they broke apart said the unspoken part, ‘But you’re not sure you can accept it for yourself.’

No. I don’t know that I can.

He didn’t know if he could say it, not with her looking so hopeful right then.

“Just how many ponies did you invite?” Rosewater hissed to Petal as she stared from the entrance to Rosy Glow’s tavern.

Business was booming, it seemed, and while not all of the faces that turned to look at her were familiar, or the whispers that reached out to her ears friendly, the majority of them were.

And yet, Rosy Glow wasn’t at the bar, and two unfamiliar ponies in tavernwear were plying the tables while the scent of lunch drifted out of the kitchen.

The owner of the tavern was sitting in conversation at a double-wide table with other friends Rosewater had had to distance herself from to protect them.

“Mm. Word of mouth,” Petal said with a wink and sauntered in, a laugh in the set of her ears and a taunt on her lips. “I only gave the word to Rosy, and I guess a few ponies got wind of your leaving the cloister.”

“My home is not a cloister,” Rosewater growled, lashing her tail and making Seed laugh and jump as it flicked against his shoulder. “It’s my home. And I thought you were going to get maybe five or six of our group together, not the whole bunch.”

There was her first time lover, too, sitting in a booth with her husband and wife and their two children enjoying a lunch together. She shared a nod with the mare, whom she’d been distant with for years even before isolating herself.

Others gave her smiles or nods or waves, bent to whisper to foalish ears that were pricked forward attentively, a question on almost all of their lips.

It was a stark reminder of just how far she was behind most of the friends that had been in her age group. Some of the foals were almost out of foalhood and well on their way to their early teens.

The realization hurt, that she had opportunity after opportunity after her twenty-first to find somepony, but she’d lazed away the days raising Rosemary and believing that she had all the time she needed to find another pony, so long as it didn’t disrupt her family life.

Petal bit her ear lightly to drag her back to the present. “No moping. Come. Silver Drop and—”

“Is Roseling here?” Rosewater asked immediately, looking around, then taking a hesitant step towards the table with some of her oldest and dearest friends. “Stars, I-I don’t…” She would know she was Rosetide after so short a time since her last excursion. I’m not ready to face her as me.

“Welcome,” Rosy said, kicking out a pillow. “Sit your butt down.”

Petal pulled one out from beside her and sat down. “I told you I’d get her out, by hook or crook.”

“Somehow I doubt it was entirely your doing,” Silver Drop said, reaching out to touch Rosewater’s shoulder. “It’s good to see you finally out and about.”

“I was… encouraged,” Rosewater said, dipping her ears. “Rosemary pushed me. And what happened to Rosemary. I needed to get out and do more instead of…”

“Wallow,” Rosy muttered into her wineglass. “What?” She asked, glowering at Petal. “It’s what she does. It’s what she did even before Carnation, but she at least came out once in a while.”

“Be that as it may,” Dreaming Rose said diplomatically, a friend of Rosewater’s from when she was learning under a master perfumier. “Rosewater is out now, and we should be welcoming so we don’t send her back. I always thought she took her mother’s threats too seriously. I mean, what could Roseate do to all of her friends united?”

Exile you all. She kept the thought bottled up, though. It was still a risk, but Dreaming had a point as well. So many would draw into the light what Roseate was doing. Exile was such an extreme punishment that a spate of them would certainly draw Princess Celestia’s eye—and quite possibly her ire.

“Hear, hear,” Rosy cried. “She can’t exile us all!”

“You know me too well,” Rosewater grumbled, tugging the wineglass out of the other mare’s grip and draining the rest. “Tax on reading minds.”

“Pfft.” Rosy’s smile was brighter than ever as she folded her forelegs on the edge of the table. “It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you smile.”

“It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you,” Dreaming muttered, then smiled and reached across the table. “But it’s still good to see you. It’s been less interesting at the Perfumier’s Guild without you. Especially lately, with the topic of autumnal fragrances on the agenda more often than not.”

“Did they ever resolve the dispute over whether cinnamon or cloves were the warmer fragrance?” Rosewater asked.

“Stars, no. Rose Clove and Cinnamon Twist are still, amicably, arguing which is better.” Dreaming’s smile grew broader. “Their son, Cinnamon Clove, seems to have settled the overall argument, however.”

Rosewater laughed and settled more easily onto her seat, trying to keep away the lingering feeling that she’d done all this before and tried to relax into her old habits before she, or her friends, got burnt for her indiscretion.

Petal leaned against her. “Rosewater helped us expand our holdings outside the city. We’re now the proud owners of a plot of farmland two miles outside Merrie along the road to Merriehollow. We’re hoping that we can attract some business from carters in the hamlet to stop by, and maybe even set up some supporting services and even housing later on.”

Rosy raised her brows and accepted the now empty glass from Rosewater. “You don’t say. I may have to look into setting up a tavern along the way in that case. Any thoughts on pulling another Rosewine bridge?”

“Psh. We’ll see. It’d be nice to steal some of the traffic away from Damme from Dammehollow, that’s for sure, but…” Petal shrugged. “The ground isn’t as stable as it is in the cities near the river, even with the dam controlling flow.”

“And—”

“And we’re saving the story for Rosewater’s first night at the foundation party,” Petal said, raising a brow and smiling. “Bliss asked for the honor of telling it.”

“Oho?” A stallion behind them said, leaning over. He was young and familiar, even if his name didn’t immediately jump to mind. Maybe one of the young colts she’d helped Budding and White Rose look over. “Roselyn didn’t demand it?”

“Mm.” Petal rolled a shoulder. “She would have, but Bliss actually put in an effort to convince her.”

“Are you going to bring that up at the next Merchant’s Guild meeting?”

“I am. I don’t expect setting up shop outside of Merrie’s boundaries is going to make the Roseate loyalists happy, but maybe it will win over some others.” Petal glanced at Rosewater, still trying to place the young stallion. “Pardon my manners, talking about business at a social gathering. This is Rosewine Goblet, all grown up. The last time you saw him—”

Rosewater put it together quickly. “Stars above, you grew up fast.” She winced and shook her head slowly. “The last time I saw you was at your sister’s wedding.” Then, he’d barely been a gangling teenager, and now… looking over him, she wasn’t surprised his glass and metalworking had filled him out rather well. Muscular in places, lean in others, he had the build of a blacksmith’s bellows worker.

Goblet dipped his ears apologetically. “I forget you haven’t seen me in years. It’s good to see you again, Rosie Water.”

Rosewater chuckled, her throat tight. It’d been his foalish way of saying her name when she’d had occasion to look after him. “Stars, I’ve missed looking after all of you.” Those years were gone.

“We’ve missed you, too,” Seed said softly on the other side of Petal. “All of us.”

Rosy Glass bobbed her head. “Miss the games of petals, the chatter, and arguing tipsy philosophy.” She gave Rosewater a lopsided grin. “Among other things. Your laugh, for one. I hope I can hear it more in coming days.”

The shape of Cloudy’s intention in urging her to not be alone was getting clearer and clearer, and the want to thank her grew stronger.

Two nights. Just two nights to go.

For now… for today and tonight, she could sink into the warm company of friends that, for now, were simply happy to draw her out of hiding.

But there was one missing face she was half-relieved and half-disappointed wasn’t there.

Roseling.

It was Roseate’s favorite place to give secret orders, the place where Roseate kept the trophies of her conquests. The ripped and torn banner of the Rose Knights hanging from one wall served as the backdrop to the ‘mementos’ of the fathers of all of her children, reminders that nopony was irreplaceable.

A dusty silver circlet, the oldest of the items there, was a reminder that even her firstborn was replaceable.

Silk Rose kept her eyes locked at a point just above Roseate’s horn, waiting for her mother to stop writing out the last of her report. Under disguise, she’d infiltrated the construction area Rosewater had been visiting openly for the last week. As one of a dozen of unicorns hired to hang the tenting, it’d been easy to listen to the gossip of the day and whittle down the reasons Rosewater had been there, and why she’d taken such an interest in it.

The Garden of Love, perennial thorn in the side of every Rosethorn ruler since the twin Rosethorns Rosewine and Rosary the first, was expanding its reach with services it was going to offer outside the borders of the city. It was risky, with bandit activity on the rise ahead of winter as the scattered feral clans tried to scramble for every bit of food they could ahead of what was promising to be a harsh, wet winter.

Especially with the expansion of Equestrian patrols outside the area claimed by Merrie and Damme. Migration was riskier than ever for those outlaws. Which made it all the more strange that, outside of the guard patrols of both Merrie and Merriehollow, the Garden was setting up what looked like the start of another villa. And just before winter.

It was strange, or even beyond strange, for the timing.

Though, if they wanted to wait until after the harvest was pulled in… They were more considerate than Roseate would ever be, if that were the case. If she hadn’t made love to Vine all those years ago, she might be freer to partake in such consideration. Instead, she’d had to take leave of her better sense and comfort her sister when she needed it, had let comfort slip to pleasure as both of them responded to their desires.

I should have been stronger. She didn’t regret the love she had for Vine. She regretted what it had pushed her to do.

“What was the name of the construction family?” Roseate asked after a longer pause than usual.

“I didn’t catch it. They were off to the side most of the time, directing our efforts. They didn’t introduce themselves,” Silk lied. “If I’d gone to the market when the hiring call went out originally, I might have caught it, but since I went last-minute…”

Roseate fixed her with a dangerous look, entirely at odds with the usual genial and kind public persona. “You were careless.”

“I was careful, mother. If I’d asked who had hired us, it would have looked suspicious, and they might have started asking questions about how I’d been hired,” Silk said in a tired voice. Roseate had asked it three different ways already, trying to prize out a lie. The joke was on her. A lifetime of learning to lie to her had trained her to stick to the story. I learned from the best. It was, at least, the most useful skill Roseate had taught her, however unintentionally it’d been taught.

“Ah. Yes. You did say that.” Roseate’s eyes glinted, and she returned to the parchment. “Rosejoy has been singularly ineffective at penetrating the Garden’s inner sanctum.”

“If you’re telling me that I should try, you’ll need to wait until, and if, I get an invitation to one of their tastings. Unless you want me to lose a full week and start spouting off like Simmer did.” Silk raised a brow, and Roseate’s ears flattened, jaw tightening as the memory of Simmer Stem’s verbal incontinence spewing the details of a few… embarrassing secrets Roseate had had to release counter-rumors to stamp out. “She does still send me an invitation every once in a blue moon.”

“Why?”

“Because I am a seamstress. I’ve done more than one dress for Petal, and I’ve used Bliss as a model for some of my older creations.” Silk raised a brow, and asked, “Or is it bad that I’ve tried to cultivate alternate routes into the Garden’s good graces?”

Teeth came out then as Roseate snarled wordlessly at her. This was unvarnished Roseate, the anger and rage at the world not bending to her will flowing just beneath the surface came bubbling up. It was the most dangerous time to be flippant… but it was also the only time Roseate was malleable. Like an ingot with imperfections. If she carefully hammered out the iron, she might make something useful.

If she wasn’t careful, it would blow up in her face.

“If I’m allowed to seem to bend away from your will, mother, I can gain an invitation sooner, rather than later. Petal and Seed are ever forgiving of transgressions so long as the effort seems genuine.” Silk put on a sly smile as Roseate’s eyes flashed dangerously. “All we have to do is put that weakness to our own use. Allow me some leeway, mother, and I will keep up my reports.”

“Crown will watch and listen,” Roseate growled. “You’re too flippant, daughter.” But the glow of dangerously hot temper was already fading. Roseate did enjoy using ponies’ kindness to dark gains. “If I hear anything that sounds like treason, you know what will happen to you.”

Silk lowered her gaze. “Yes, mother. By your will, I obey.”

“You heard.”

It wasn’t a question, and Crown didn’t take it as such. “Yes, mother.”

“Are you able to pierce Rosewater’s wards?”

“If they’re not active, I can, given time.” She had, many times before, but she’d always given herself away somehow she’d never been able to determine. Some semi-active countermeasure, or a gossamer-web spell that triggered a warning if it were disturbed. Rosewater had always been good at the fine detail magics, and she was supposed to be able to sense the ripples in the ether that all magic spells gave off, like the ripples on a pond as it rained.

Just how finely tuned her senses were, or if she even had them, was rumor spoken only among her sisters that had to fight her.

In the interest of downplaying her mother’s expectations, she added, “She may still detect my presence, and I needn’t say that if that happens she may, in fact, give disinformation.” Or she might counter it with a screeching whistle amplified by magic. Her ears still rang when she thought about the last time Rosewater had caught her listening. “It’s best if I assume if she’s warded, then anything I hear was deliberately given.”

Roseate pursed her lips. It was, after all, what the matron of Rosethorn would do in her daughter’s position.

“And Silk’s?”

“Again, only if she uses a passive ward against sound, but she’s less likely to notice me then.” Crown bowed her head. “I presume, as you did with Glory, that you want every word?”

“Yes. Every word, Crown.” Roseate flicked an ear at the door. “Go. I want to know where she goes next.”

With a perfunctory bow, Crown departed the room by the same means she’d entered, the secret passage that led to the antechamber on the floor below. It was how rulers in centuries past had spied on their supporters, rooted out dissent, and generally stabbed their rivals in the back. In ages long past, the latter had been quite literal.

The danger of losing her loved ones was no less real, coupled with the loss of lifestyle, of home...

Still, Silk was more vulnerable than most of her sisters. Their mother already had the blackmail she needed for her and Vine to keep them both in line. Whether Well, Powder, and Rosary knew about it was another matter, but even they were vulnerable. The Mare only knew what Roseate held over them, aside from their futures and the potential for ruling over one of the most populous cities in the north.

Or the potential to be the largest city in the north, with the best deep-water port north of the growing Los Pegasus.

There was more than merely control on the line, but history as well.

Author's Note

Bad horsemom is on the move, Rosewater starts to reconnect with old friends and begins the process of coming out of her shell.

We get to see a little more of the roles Crown and Silk will play in the upcoming sparring matches between mother and daughter. Soon, too, we'll see more play from the Damme side of things as the Primfeathers get their feathers in a dander.

But first... and next week, Cloudy and Rosewater have a date in "Cloudy Night"