“This is a bad idea,” Collar said for what felt like the fiftieth time that evening. “I’m with you, Cloudy.”

That earned him less than a roll of the eye, more like a twitch of Cloudy’s eyelids as she threatened to roll her eyes at him again. “And I’m formally dating her, too. Not just a fling, Collar. I’m romantically involved with her. Now stand still. You have to at least look like you’re going on patrol.”

“Can’t, um, you marry her, or bond with her? And I’ll just bond with you?” That the idea held a bit of sense to him was a mark of just how far along Cloudy had forcibly dragged him. Two months ago, when this mess had all started… or was that a year ago? He shook his head. The point was, he was so much farther down this rabbit hole than he’d ever thought he would be six months ago.

“Bonding doesn’t work that way. A bonded family unit is married to each other. All partners are paired with each other.” Cloudy paused to bite a cinch and pull it taut, then tested the give on his armor. “Comfortable?”

“With this? No. With the armor, yes.” Collar snorted and stamped a hoof. “I just want to learn more about her. That’s all. Without anyone interfering.”

“Oh, I think you’ll have plenty of opportunity to talk.” Cloudy chuckled and backed away, ruffling her feathers. “Rosemary? What do you think?”

The blonde mare on the bed, idly pretending to read a book on the differences between the Tussen Twee and the Principes, looked up and tossed her head. She was entirely too fetching, and her lips parting in a salacious grin weren’t helping the image of the Rose she was so casually adopting.

She’d gotten more comfortable with herself in the last few days since Cloudy had come back and, presumably, spilled everything about her date. Probably including Rosewater’s tongue—

He coughed and drove the image of Rosewater and Cloudy from his mind with another stamp of his hoof.

“He looks good enough to eat,” Rosemary purred, licking her delicate lips. “Or swallow.”

“Rosemary,” Cloudy said with a snicker, “he’ll be half-staff if you keep it up.”

“I will not. I have more control over myself than that.” Not that Rosemary hadn’t been more than a little teasing in the past few days, even accidentally showing herself to him once or twice so she could claim it as an accident, though nothing that mare did with her tail was accidental. “I want to get to know her better. That’s all this is about.”

“No.” Cloudy stamped a hoof and rose up to cup his cheek. “Don’t think that. Be open Collar. You told her you would consider her.”

“I know what I said,” Collar said, using a brief spell to caress Cloudy’s cheek. “But what if I have all I want right here?”

“What if you don’t try? What might you see in her if you let yourself?” Cloudy brought up her other hoof and drew his face down to nuzzle his nose. “I saw a loving pony, Collar. A worried mother, and a gracious, tender lover. Let yourself be open.”

“I’m not looking for another lover!”

“To me she was a lover, Collar.”

Rosemary cleared her throat. “She won’t be like that towards you, Collar. She’ll be too worried she’ll say something wrong to try and be flirtatious. But do try to get her to open up. She can carry a conversation for hours on the flimsiest things that catch her interest. She’ll even run to our library to look something up just to talk more. Not lately, but… I honestly miss the vigor she had before Carnation was taken.”

“We’ll help her, Rosemary. We will,” Cloudy murmured against her neck before turning back to Collar. “Listen to her.” She nodded towards Rosemary. “Talk to her, try to draw her out.”

“Listen to her.” Collar nodded slowly and turned his head to kiss the love of his life. “I can listen,” he said as he pulled back after a brief parting of lips.

“And talk.”

Collar held back a sigh. There wasn’t much he could think of to talk to her about. Not on a date. “I’ll do my best.

“Good.” She patted his cheek once with a hoof and dropped back. “Go on. Get going, or you’ll be late for your patrol.”

“Alright.” Collar drew himself up and pulled his cowl low over his ears. “Cloudy, as planned, right?”

“Yes, yes. You’re going out to check on Rose Glory, and have a long talk with her.” Cloudy rolled her eyes.

“And… the hills?” Rosemary asked. “North of Damme. There wasn’t a better place? Someplace neutral?”

“It was her idea, Rosemary, and besides, I can’t think of a better place, either. It’s as neutral as can get with Roseate on the other side braying for my head on a platter. Probably.” Collar chuckled and shook his head. “Besides, it’s a little late to change plans now. She’ll already be waiting, if I know her.” He turned a questioning look on Rosemary. “Right?”

“By the stars, yes. Go! You’ve been primping like a Primfeather.” Rosemary snapped her tail. “She’ll come get you if you wait longer, and that might just set some tongues to wagging.”

“Alright, alright.” He rose, shook himself, half to get rid of the growing nerves, and half to settle the cape more loosely about him. “I’ll be back… probably after midnight.”

“You don’t have a curfew,” Rosemary said with a roll of her eyes. “If you two kids want to have fun, don’t let us old fogeys keep you from it.”

Collar dropped the silencing spell over the room and shook his head. “Behave,” he said as he opened the door to find Strides standing outside. “Ah! Strides, I forgot. Yes. Um.”

Stride gave him a look over and glanced past him at Rosemary and Cloudy. “Sir?”

“He’s going to talk to Rose Glory,” Cloudy said, louder than necessary. She winked at him. Thankfully only with her eye. “He wants to talk to her about Rosewater and events this week.”

“Um. Okay.” Prim Stride met his eye and looked away, a flush tinging his cheeks. “And you want me to stand guard?”

“Inside, Strides. Rosemary has been reading a treatise on the differences between the Tussen Twee and the Principes, and she wants a debate partner.” He shot Rosemary a triumphant smile. “Right?”

“Absolutely! I need all the practice I can get before I debate you, my lord.” Rosemary’s return smile was equally pleased.

He sighed and rolled his eyes, earning himself a sultry wink and a blown kiss.

Rosemary chuckled as the door closed behind Collar, leaving Strides behind, a blush already changing his dapples to sunset touched clouds across his cheeks. He was absolutely precious, and delicate, and was a sweetheart in the making.

“Stride,” she said, closing the book with a curled strand of her tail, shed a few days before, for a bookmark, “how have you been?”

“It’s been…” His eyes flicked from hers to the book. “Well, it’s been interesting. What book is that?”

He never wanted to talk about how he was doing. She clucked her tongue and glanced at the cover, then the spine. “Arguments Against Principes Van Vrije. Honestly, I’m less interested in that than talking to you. You’re always a delight.”

He swallowed, the glow of his dapples increasing until they almost seemed to give off a bit of light for truth. “Um. And…” He swallowed gain, his ears ticking back as he glanced at Cloudy. “And you are, too.”

Rosemary beamed at him, determined to get a little spark to settle more deeply in his coat. “Thank you. Any news from the city?”

He blinked rapidly, his ears twitching. “News… from the city?”

“From Merrie, obviously. I hear about Damme all day.” Rosemary slid from her bed to the ground, tail swishing as she nuzzled up against Cloudy, flitting her tail to twine with her lover’s. “Anything the guards hear that they might not like Cloudy hearing?”

“Er…” His eyes flicked from Rosemary to Cloudy, not a far distance to travel, but it seemed like his eyes almost wanted to stay glued to Rosemary’s. “Well, no, not really. I mean, we don’t talk to the Merrieguard much, except for the bridge guards. Just for things like serious crimes. Major thefts and the like.”

“That’s boring,” Rosemary said with a dismissive toss of her head. “You need to talk to the Merrieguard more, the lot of you. Some of my best friends were guard ponies. They’re not all bad. Not even close to all.”

“I can’t,” Cloudy said, turning to nip her cheek. “Without getting somepony in trouble.”

That left her staring at Stride again, who shuffled his hooves rather uncomfortably, then startled. “Wait, where was Lord Collar going?”

“To see Rose Glory,” Cloudy said. “Honestly, Stride.”

“No, no, I mean… this late at night?” Stride narrowed his eyes as he stared at the floor. “It doesn’t make sense, does it?” he asked as he raised his eyes to Cloudy, the lapse into embarrassment fading as he focused on his job.

“It does if we got information that needs discussion immediately,” Cloudy said with a harumph. “Honestly, Stride, you’ve worked as a courier long enough to know that some information is time-critical. It’s why they’ve got the fastest pegasi rotating around courier duty.”

Stride flicked his tail, sighed, and nodded. “Fine. Want to educate me about what might be happening? Or what imbalance your cousin is causing that might be so time-critical?”

“I can speculate,” Rosemary mused. “But I can’t really say anything. But I can teach you about politics in Merrie.”

Cloudy groaned loudly enough for it to almost sound like she was going to be sick.

Collar wandered the clearing where he was supposed to meet Rosewater, peering down the myriad trails to see if anypony else was coming, and wondering just why he’d chosen the one clearing where every single logging trail in the forest intersected.

Broad tracts of straight sight lines leading almost all the way to various parts of Damme greeted him at every turn.

He knew why he’d picked it, more as a safe place where he could feel like he had avenues of escape, but now, after having had several talks with Cloudy that very nearly threatened to go far into intimate territory, he wasn’t sure he wanted the possibility of being seen with her. And if she were unveiled, she would be seen. There was no hiding her pristine white coat and pink mane. Especially when she would light up like a star even in the moonlight.

Because you were afraid of what it meant, a little part of him said, to be attracted to her, and hear that she could be attractive in ways other than physical.

Because I’m a coward.

He paced in a circle, increasingly sure she wouldn’t show, that she’d decided…

What? This was her idea.

Seconds of pacing turned into minutes as the moon grew brighter in the sky, the light scattering of clouds that had dogged its trail passing east at last and letting the Mare shed more light in the little clearing.

Just as he was about to make another pass, the last, he stopped at the sound of hoofsteps that didn’t match his own.

He stopped, but the hoof falls didn’t, coming from the north.

There, coming down the trail like a ghost from a memory, was Rosewater. Fog seemed to cling to her for a second before her horn doused and the spell she’d been holding, ready to veil herself, vanished.

The breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding burned in his lungs before he recalled to breathe.

She was beautiful, striking, as tall as he and… tonight she looked as regal as a princess. A silvery scarf around her neck glittered and winked in the moonlight as the silver threads woven through it caught the moonlight and glowed star-white for an instant. Her mane, always loose before, was caught in a braid that ran the length of her mane, the tip trailing down to rest on her shoulder, a scarlet ribbon wrapping the last few inches with the color of the Rosethorn marks on her cheeks.

Other than that, she was bare of ornamentation, and the scarf hid the heart mark on her breast. One less reminder of whom she was, and no less a lovely figure.

If only she didn’t scare him with her beauty. For a Rosethorn, that was as much a weapon as their guile.

“Lord Collar,” she said in a soft voice, taking a hesitant step towards him, then stopping, her smile growing and fading by turns, then steadying as some barrier shifted and blocked her uncertainty from his eyes, the tiny signs stilling. “I apologize for my tardiness. I was preparing a surprise at the end of our walk.”

“A… surprise?” He hedged away from her slightly, then stopped. She would hardly go through all this just to attack him when she could have done so by taking Cloudy from him. And much more easily. “What kind of surprise?”

“It’s nothing to worry about, I promise!” She held up a hoof, lowered it and backed away. “I… got here early, and I was thinking too much, and came to the conclusion that only a walk was… not enough. For me. If—” She stopped abruptly, her eyes cast aside.

By the stars. Cloudy was right. She’s… rattled. Collar coughed and changed the subject with all the finesse of a boulder, “You dressed well tonight, if a bit light for the chill.”

“I… was prepared, but, um, I left my warmer things at the surprise. I thought, maybe it wouldn’t be a good idea to show up in an overcoat that could be hiding anything.” She laughed nervously, flipping the end of her scarf against her shoulder. “Nothing hiding in here.”

And it hides your heart mark. “So I see,” Collar murmured, and flipped up the bottom of the scarf briefly to show her. “Almost nothing.”

Her cheeks colored darker, a shade of scarlet in the dim light. “I-I—” She took a deep breath. “A tease. Right.” She pranced a small circle and waved towards the path she’d just come down. “Shall we go before I attempt to swallow both of my hooves, my lord?”

“You’re not yourself, Rosewater,” Collar said softly as he stepped up beside her. “Have you been worrying for three days?”

“Three days?” Rosewater glanced at him, a hint of humor dancing in her eyes briefly. “No, my lord. Not three days. Unless you count the time I was briefly not worrying three days ago.”

“When you were on your date with Cloudy.” The image of her entwined with his lover flared up again, white and green and pink.

She must have seen it in his eyes, because she shook her head.“Not… just the sex, my lord.”

“Stop calling me that. You’ve called me Collar dozens of times already. Why is today diff—” Because of the date. Because he was the heir and so was she. “Did… you expect I would want this to be formal, Rosewater?”

She wouldn’t look at him, and instead started up the trail, her tail twitching as if wanting to lash, but also staying modest. “I… had no idea what you would expect,” she said, stopping and staring up at the sky. “I didn’t know if it was going to rain again, thunder and lightning, or if it would be like tonight.” She breathed out a heavy breath, fogging the air in front of her and catching it in a spell, fixing the fog in place as she raised it up to catch the light, a miniature swirling moon. “Perfect.”

For a moment, he expected her to do something else with the spell-captured breath, but when she did nothing but stare at it, her ears ticking back and forth, he moved to stand with her.

“And then I go and ruin it by…” She let the spell go and let the by-then chilled breath float down and disperse on the ground. “By worrying too much.”

“You wanted tonight to be perfect.”

“I wanted to… I don’t know, not mess everything up. Then I got out here, and the sky, the trees… the temperature.” Her cheeks were still flushed, and she wouldn’t look at him even when he stopped at her side. “It was going to be a perfect night, and then…”

“You started to worry.”

She snorted and took another step forward. “Yes. Cloudy told me not to.” Another step. “She doesn’t know me that well.”

“I think she knows you. She told me you were going to worry anyway.” He took two steps and touched her ankle with a hoof. “I didn’t believe her. Walk with me, Rosewater, and I suppose show me this surprise.”

“You still want to go on this date with me?” She didn’t move.

“Want…” Collar sighed and glanced aside at her. She jerked her gaze away. “Rosewater, calm down. This isn’t like you.”

A stoic calm settled over her, washing away the nerves, pushing back everything but the stillness of an emotionless mask. “Is this more like me?” Her look shifted again, smirking at him, ears canted playfully. “Or is this? Or maybe it was the one that called you an idiot. Tell me, please, because I’m lost!”

“How am I supposed to tell you when I barely know you myself!” He snorted and stomped up the path a few paces, turned and stared back at her. “What about the mare you showed Cloudy? She’s falling in love with that mare and I don’t know if I’m going to lose her to you.”

“You won’t.”

“Why? Because the mask you showed her isn’t real either?” Collar gritted his teeth, his tail lashing on its own. “Which is it? Did she see the real you, Rosewater?”

He saw the war in her eyes, the masks finally falling away as her jaw worked but nothing came out. Her ears flattened to her mane, but she stood steady, breathing slowly and deeply, trying to calm herself. Trying, he realized, to do what Cloudy had said she’d told her to do. Stay calm.

“Take it easy… I’m sorry. I… I worry about Cloudy. And I worry about losing her.” Collar looked away, then back. He couldn’t hide from her, not if he wanted her to be open.

“I’m worried to lose her, too,” Rosewater murmured, taking another step closer, then another, and finally walking past him. “I showed her… unfiltered me. When we had sex, I didn’t try to be anything but… in the moment. After, I didn’t try to be… well, I did, but she nipped my ears until I stopped hiding.”

Heat rose up his neck. He’d managed to forget for a moment just how cavalier Merriers were about sex. “She does that.” He followed her, behind at first to hide his blush from her, though she could probably smell it. “You showed her the real you, didn’t you?”

“I think so. I worry…”

“Surprise there.” He snorted.

“Hush. I worry that… that also wasn’t me.”

“Let me tell you a secret, Rosewater,” Collar said, flitting his tail against her flank as he caught up. “None of us are who we really are at any given moment. Who we are is revealed over time, otherwise romance would be so much easier. ‘Oh, look at her, she’s mean right now. That means she’s mean all the time!’”

“Fine. Point made. And I should’ve remembered it. It’s one of Rosethorn’s major points after all.” Rosewater’s ears flattened to her skull for a few paces, then shook her head. “I’m not used to wearing a braid. I should’ve just come plainly.”

“It’s one of Primline’s, too, you know. The saying.” Collar studied her briefly out of the corner of his eye, then more directly, and risked saying, “It looks good on you.”

Rosewater flashed him a curious look, half pleased and half uncertain, then nodded. “Thank you.”

Silence passed between them for a time, their hooves and the soft rustling of wind in the trees taking up the work of conversing together and forming their own odd conversation. She tried to say something several times, opening her mouth and hesitating before closing it again and hanging her head.

It was odd to see her confidence in herself so low.

Is it perhaps a lingering effect of the spells she used? He didn’t know anything about her talent other than… it was powerful and potentially terrifying. And it dealt with her own emotions as much as another’s. Might being nervous and fearful be amplified?

“Do you come out here often?” Collar asked finally, feeling like the cheesiest pickup artist in the Bridgewater Bilge, hitting on a single Dammeguard mare.

“I do, actually,” Rosewater said, surprising him into a start. “Oh, don’t look so surprised. Your Dammeguard could hardly see me if I weren’t in a hurry, and on occasion, I’m not. Sometimes… it’s nice to wander the hills unveiled where nopony would even think to look for me.”

He stared at her, nearly stumbled over a ridge in the dirt, and forced himself to pay attention. This wasn’t a level Damme street, but a forest path used by loggers. Of course there were going to be divots and ridges, no matter how hard-packed it was.

At least she’d recovered some of her composure.

“Why?”

“Because I love the view.” She gave him a small smile and nodded forward where a fork in the path led to a logging camp and a smaller trail led… somewhere else. “The path less traveled.”

“But why here? Isn’t the Rosewine hill just as scenic?” He waved vaguely southwards. “And they would almost certainly beg to have you stay, from what I’ve heard.”

“Perhaps. But…” Rosewater flicked her ears and shook her head. “It doesn’t really matter why not. I love this view, and I have since the first time Carnation snuck out here with me.”

“Just when was that?”

“Nine years or so ago. Maybe ten or eleven. After a gala and we were supposed to be going home.” She grinned, raising her head. “We slipped our escort, went around the long way, and she showed me a place she said she’d found while ‘exploring.’ She loved to do that. Cross the river just to explore and experience Damme. Roseate hated that she could get away with it.”

Vaguely, he recalled some of that. Grumblings from the Primfeathers and the Manes some years ago about letting mainline Rosethorns wander free, and his mother shutting them down with, ‘Has she done anything against our laws?’ It must have been when he was only eleven or twelve.

Strange how the oddest things bring back old memories.

“I can see why. I remember, sort of. I was finishing my schooling, I think, and just about to start learning the diplomatic ropes.” He glanced aside at her and dropped his gaze to the ground when he saw she was still off in a haze of memory, her eyes darting everywhere but seeming to take in none of it. “When did you stop coming to Damme? Mother said you used to follow along with her?”

“When I was eleven or twelve. Just as I was starting to enter puberty. I recall that much. Rosemary was a babe, and I think Carnation got away with crossing because of that.” Rosewater huffed and glanced aside at him. “But then Roseate put in new restrictions on youngsters passing into Damme. I think she was afraid of us seeing we could find love on the other side of the river, too. Or at least me.”

It made a sick sort of sense. What might things have been like if she’d been allowed to socialize at an age when her future was starting to run under her own decisions rather than her aunt’s or mother’s.

He might have even befriended her then.

“I hate your mother.”

“One thing we can agree on at least.”

Another thing he couldn’t imagine. Hating your own parent. “But she left you alone most of the time?’

“If, by ‘left alone’ you mean she tried to ruin every relationship I ever formed with a stallion,” she said with a snort. “And she was mostly successful.”

“Mostly?” Curious, he stepped a little closer to her. Maybe there was another stallion he could point her at to fall in love with.

“You really want to know?” Rosewater eyed him, suspicion in the set of her brow. “You know that’s not going to work.”

“Have to try. And yes, in fact, I am curious.”

“Fine. So…” She blew a breath out her nose. “His name was Silverstar. From Canterlot, of course, with a name like that. Stars, we got to know each other so well, and my mother didn’t even say a word. This was, ten years or so ago. We dated a few times, kissed once or twice… but he was like you lot. Not ready for sex yet. And… all that time, my mother was laughing her ass off.”

“Why?”

“Because he was my father’s nephew. He’d come to Merrie to see what his uncle had gone to, where he’d lived the last days of his life, where he’d found love… though he only found out after that Roseate was a monster.” Rosewater fell silent for a moment, her teeth catching at her lip and letting go, biting but not hard. “He still loved me.”

“He… was an interesting stallion, I’m told. Blue Star.”

“Yep. And the name should have given it away, but by the stars—” She snorted a laugh. “—I never connected the two. My father was always just dad, or father, or silly to me. I never thought of him as Blue Star.”

“That’s fair.”

“But that was why he stayed. And that was why Silverstar came. I only found out when I asked if he would stay and start a family with me when my second majority came. He’d been talking about going home for weeks, but always delaying because I would kiss him and take him on another date… I loved him, Collar. I was falling in love with him.”

“And… you still keep in touch?”

“Occasionally. I haven’t written to him in a year. He started a family back in Canterlot. So… I have a cousin. A first cousin. And little niblings.”

It wasn’t going to work, then. Just as she’d said. Has your life been nothing but your mother screwing with it? “Alright. I accept that I can’t get you to hare off after him.”

“Gracious of you to concede.” She smiled then, and a bit of her mask seemed to flake away, showing a genuine quality to it that hadn’t been there before. Teasing seemed to be a part of who she was. “And you? Any mares besides Cloudy I need to worry about?”

“A tease? My my, she has recovered.” He winced as soon as he said it.

“It… started out badly,” Rosewater admitted, smiling a little. “I let my worries and fears get a hold of me.” She flicked her ears and tail, glancing aside at him. “Thank you for not leaving. I was so afraid that you would, I ended up trying to get you to.”

I was right. It was a part of the spell’s effects. “Not intentionally,” Collar said, sighing. “I was about to, you know. But… then I remembered what Cloudy told me. You’re a scared mother, terrified for her daughter, and a beleaguered heiress doing the best you know how for her ponies.”

“That’s what she said?”

“That’s what she said she told you. For what it’s worth, I think this is the right move for you. Not… dating me. But working more closely with us.” Collar glanced aside, then ahead at the path as it narrowed. “This is a deer track.”

“Deerkin, yes.” She grinned and stepped ahead. “Follow me and keep your head down.”

The forest changed as soon as he passed a certain point.

From the thin and stumpy pines of the logging path, still not recovered from their previous generations’ clearing, the trees became wilder, older, and not as evenly spaced. Bracken littered the trail, forcing them both to slow and navigate over or around the larger pieces, and branches just overhead, denuded of needles, spoke of decades of growth not cleared out.

It was old growth, in a place he’d not thought to find it.

“Do you wander these woods much?” Rosewater asked from ahead as she lifted a branch gingerly out of the way for him. It seemed ready to break off, the way it creaked, but she didn’t do that, merely held it with a spell until he ducked under it.

“No. I’m surprised you do. You seem as much a city pony as I am.”

“I can be. I don’t stay out here at night, but I do wander.” She continued on before he had to stop, stepping over a half-rotted treetop, dead brown needles scattered like ash across the trail. “Watch your step, there’s still some water hiding out around here.”

“And you came all this way… before I got here… just to set up a surprise for me?” That was… no wonder she was worried. She was putting in a lot more effort than he was into the ‘date.’ “Is this a date?”

She stumbled, catching herself before he could react, and snapped a quick look at him before continuing on. “I thought it was.”

Collar fell silent as they picked their way along the trail, idly wondering how she’d gotten through without getting any mud or dirt or damp bits of bark or needles on her ankles or in her scarf.

“I thought it was,” she said again as she stopped at the top of a long incline. “I began to doubt after I set this up, but I made myself leave before I could take it apart again.” She waved a hoof as he joined her in the widening throat of the trail. “Welcome to our first date, Collar.”

A blanket sat next to a picnic basket, and a parasol next to that, neatly strapped and folded, its wooden strakes oiled and shining in what little light the moon gave off, as if there was going to be sun this late at night. Or rain, you daft pony.

He made himself stop and take it in again, noting the finer details of her setup. There were two blankets of the same weave one overlapping the other and giving them plenty of room to stay apart if he decided he wanted to, but also giving him the chance to sidle closer if he wanted to share the warmth with her.

Sticking out of the basket was the neck of an overcoat wrapped around a bottle of wine and a stick of bread tucked in close. Either too long to fit, or she’d arranged it carefully to show him what she intended.

“It’s a peaceful looking first date,” he offered, stepping closer, farther up the shallow incline towards the patch of ground she’d chosen, and stopped just before sitting.

The view. She had said she loved the view…

Spread out below them was Damme and Merrie, the twinkling of torchlight and steadier glow of fay unicorn light highlighting and outlining buildings and sucked his breath clean out. He’d never seen either city as a pegasus might, spread out in stark lines, shadows, and light like a painting.

There was Prim Palace, studded with the candle-like pinpricks of distant torches, some moving as guards took their rounds, others staying still and casting shadows off the silent, watching walls into the grassy greens below.

And in the distance, the lovely marble spire of the Rose Palace, aglow with faerie lights and lanterns, no less alive with its own patrols.

“Is it okay?” Rosewater asked, a note of triumphant joy in her voice, knowing the answer before he could even speak it.

“It’s lovely,” Collar replied, sparing her a lingering look, stark white in the bare moonlight, scarf casting flickering pinpricks of starlight as she moved to take a seat beside the basket. “A-and so are you.”

She halted, hoof quivering with the basket’s lid half-open. “Thank you.” She continued the motion, revealing more than just bread and wine, but a few cookies, neatly wrapped in baker’s cloth, and two slices of pie. “I thought you would have already had dinner by now.”

“I had. During which Cloudy fussed at me about not eating too much.” Collar chuckled. “Now I know why. What kind of cookies are those?”

“Peanut butter,” she said with a sly smile, the momentary hesitation gone again. “Your favorite, if I recall.”

“I’ve been meaning to ask… just how do you know so much about me when I know so little about you?” He picked up the wrapped cookies, finding only two, and sighed theatrically. “Stars, the things I consider for peace.”

“What things?”

He passed her one of the cookies and nibbled on the edge of his. To his shock and horror, it tasted just like the recipe Prim Praline used in the palace kitchens. “These, for one. Stars, they’re just like I remember when I was a colt.”

“Mmm. Well… Carnation said she got the recipe from somewhere… I think it was your mother. I used the same peanut butter she used to order from the Damme marketplace. Prim Nut and Buttersquash’s nut butter.” She nibbled hers, feigned a swoon, and pressed a hoof to his shoulder. “By the stars, I see why, now.”

“And how do you get into the Damme marketplace?” Collar arched a brow at her. “You rather stand out.”

“I do. But, see, my lord,” she said in a low whisper as she leaned closer. “Sometimes I like to moonlight as a stallion.”

He nearly choked on his bite of peanut butter decadence. “A stallion?” Suspicion long subdued started to come up again.

“Didn’t I just say that?” She grinned, and it was interesting to see the effect it had on her Rosethorn markings. Dimples turned them into sharply dipped lines, as if a painter had gotten a case of the giggles in the middle of drawing a smooth arc. “I have a well-kept disguise. A young, lanky stallion not yet grown into his strength, but as tall as I and russet red.”

It’s him. Still, he played along, smiling and half-certain she knew he knew. “Oh? Does this stallion have a name?”

“So you can have him watched?” Her brow arch matched his own.

“I’m merely curious. I already trust you enough to wander Damme under flag of treaty… and to… to not worry overmuch when Cloudy disappears for a night or most of one.” He coughed and tapped his chest, started to take another bite, and added, “I promise, I won’t try to seek you out as this… stallion. Whomever your alter-ego is.”

“Rosetide,” she said after a long pause. “And sometimes also as Granny Galleon, but she is ailing and spends most of her time now in seclusion. Together myself and I sell shampoos, buy treats, and chatter with the locals about you. Granny does so love the young stallions. Like you.”

He sputtered again, staring at her. “Please tell me they don’t say much.”

“You’d be surprised. Your townsponies are surprisingly talky when making a deal… that, and Granny gives discounts for good gossip.” She grinned toothily and offered him a chunk of her cookie. “For the bit you spit out.”

“Gracious.” He popped the piece in and chewed slowly, savoring it as he considered what she’d said. If anything, it meant the common ponies of Damme and Merrie were more alike than either of their nobility had any clue.

He’d known there was some parity between the two, and sometimes common ponies moved across the river on whimsy and sometimes for little more reason than because they could get cheaper common goods on the other side, or to be with friends.

Or, he knew, some moved for love. More to Damme than Merrie, he’d thought, but he was no longer certain of that. Especially if his townsponies were so willing to spill what most of Damme’s nobility considered private information and not to be gossiped about.

Not that it ever stopped them. The nobility was simply more cagey about it.

“I see,” he said at last. “It seems I owe Cloudy a few bits.”

“For Rosetide?” Her eyes twinkled as she took another bite. “Now you know how to find me.”

“For the source of the cookies. I could have sworn it was a cook. I never would have guessed it was my own mother.” Collar chuckled, savoring another creamy, crunchy bite. “It’s just like her recipe.”

“I have more. Not all of them come from your mother. Some of them, I got by honest crookery.” She winked at him again and finished off her cookie.

“You said it leaked like a sieve. I never figured your, erm… your aunt was so close to my mother.” He sighed and took a larger bite, saying around the piece, “But I suppose I won’t hold it against her. It’s not like she made the recipe a state secret. As much as dad has argued for it.”

Rosewater choked. “Your father?”

“Of course. He has a sweet-tooth like you wouldn’t believe, and mother constantly nags at him about it.” Collar laughed and swallowed. “You… I think you’ll like him as he grows on you. He’s a Merrier born, but not of straight Merrier stock. Half Canterlotian.”

“He and I have a lot in common then.” Her eyes darted to his and then away. “I knew that… but I didn’t expect him to be so…” Rosewater waved a hoof at the cities, then raised it up, indicating the farther bank. “Merrier-like.”

“My… parents are an odd dichotomy. Lace, you have seen can be kind, but she can also be strict. Especially when it comes to appearances.” Collar opened his mouth to say more, about the days a month ago when he’d just started openly courting Cloudy, and closed it again. “I’m sure Cloudy’s told you already what it was like to be in a relationship with me, with her as a mother.”

“No.” She rose halfway to a crouch and sat back down again, facing him. “It may not be believable where you’re coming from, but we don’t openly pry at each other’s secrets, Collar. We all have our own private lives, and boundaries to those lives. If she didn’t tell me, it’s because she wanted that decision to be yours.”

Indignant, Collar snorted and shook his head. “Please. I know that. I… just how quickly you and Cloudy came together. I thought…” What did I think? Did I actually assume that? “Maybe I did.” He turned away from her curiously intense gaze, pursed his lips and shook his head. “This is all new to me. And—” He held up a hoof before she could say anything else. “What do you want to get out of this? Tonight, I mean?”

“Get out of it?” Rosewater asked. “You mean other than getting to know you one-on-one on peaceful terms?”

“You know that’s what I meant,” he said with another snort and toss of his head.

“What I want…” For a long moment she stared down at the cities, her ears twitching, her lips moving as if she were practicing what she wanted to say. “Tonight… Collar, I want only that tonight.”

More word games. “Never mind, then.”

She took a breath, short and sharp, and spoke in a rush, “What I wished for was to receive freely what I stole from you without you knowing. Almost. I wished for that, but… I can’t have that. Not yet.”

It took him a moment to remember what it was. The kiss he couldn’t remember, that Cloudy had only mentioned in passing.

“You… don’t remember.”

“I don’t. Not truly. That night is all a haze.” Collar sighed and shook his head. “I kiss those I love, Rosewater. I don’t love you.” Blunt, but it was the best way to say it. Unambiguous, wholly honest. “I can’t.”

“I know.” Rosewater put on a mask again, smiling as she pulled out the wine and two glasses. It was getting easier to tell when she did it, when she put her feelings behind a facade of cheer, or a blank wall. This time, it was as blatant as if she’d stitched the smile in place on a literal mask right in front of him and put it on. “Wine? It’s a vintage from Rosewine Hill Wineries.”

“Wine, cookies, and a baguette,” Collar mused as he accepted the glass she offered. “Just what were you hoping for?”

“Well, there’s olive oil, pepper, and garlic flakes in there, too. It’s very good and pairs nicely with wine.” She produced a knife and a single shallow dish. “I can serve some up if you’d like.”

“There’s only one dish?” He leaned over to look in the basket. Other than her overcoat protecting the bread, there was only a small glass vial with flakes of herbs and spices in it that reached even his nose. More Merrie-centric things. “The cookies are Damme, but everything else is Merrie,” he pointed out.

“Well, yes. I asked you on this date, Collar. I’m not going to showcase food and beverages you already know and love.” Rosewater sniffed and set down the dish without asking any further. “I thought it wouldn’t be too inappropriate if we shared, Collar. Next time you can bring things you would like to share with me.”

“And what were you hoping for?”

Rosewater paused before she sprinkled the spices into the dipping bowl. “Hoping for? Or planning for. You know what I hoped for, Collar, but that’s not happening.” She dropped the flakes and powder in then the olive oil, and began cutting up the bread before she continued. “I was hoping we could find common ground. These are things I like. I wanted to share them and see if you liked them.”

“Fair enough.” Collar settled in and accepted a piece of bread and watched as she dipped a piece of her own in and scraped the bottom to get some spice, too. “I don’t think I’ve seen or heard dad eat or talk about anything like this,” he said, following her lead.

“It’s relatively new. From Prance, about ten or so years ago it got popular, and now olive oil is a common enough import.” She shrugged and popped the entire slice in her mouth at once.

“I see.” Collar tried to nibble at his bread, but the oil just dripped down his chin. Irritated, he popped it in his mouth and rolled his eyes. “Messy.”

“It’s not something you can nibble,” Rosewater said with a grin around her mouthful. “There’s a reason you just eat it all at once.”

He was tempted to glower at her, but the bread, spices and oil mixed well together. Just a bit of bite from the spice, a little bitter blandness from the oil, and the sweet flavor and still crusty crunch of the bread made a not altogether unpleasant experience. She even brought out a cloth napkin after a moment and offered it to him.

At least she didn’t try to lick it off. Cloudy would have.

A light breeze picked up off the slope, stirring Rosewater’s braided mane faintly as she stared off over the city, towards the harbor with the fog rolling in over ships with their mooring lights lit. Even with the nagging feeling that he shouldn’t be there, that this wasn’t for him, a part of him wanted to come up here again at night and watch the city. Cloudy would like it.

He snorted. Cloudy had likely already found it. She loved to find new perches to look at the cities from, though usually closer to Merrie where she could maybe catch a glimpse of her family going about their day.

“I can get lost up here,” Rosewater murmured as she dipped another piece of bread and let it drip free. “When I find the chance to sneak up here. Time means less.”

He nodded wordlessly and borrowed the piece from her, grinning at her indignant huff before she cut herself another slice. Time did mean less up here. It seemed that if he let himself ignore her, ignore everything, he could sit there for hours and not feel like a minute had passed.

He froze before he ate the piece of sopping, oil-soaked bread, and stared at it. That was the kind of thing he did to Cloudy. Tease her and steal a morsel, because he knew she’d get him back in kind and likely three-fold.

Without even realizing it, he’d started to relax around Rosewater.

If she’d stayed nervous the entire night, or not teased him, or retaliated to his quips with her own, he doubted he’d feel as calm as he did right then.

“This place relaxes you,” Collar murmured, glancing aside at her and holding the bread over the dipping bowl. “Doesn’t it? Is that why you chose it?”

“It does.” She was silent while she dipped and dripped her piece of bread for a few seconds, putting entirely too much attention into the effort. “I’ve been meaning to come up here since the battle. It’s… where I helped myself come down from my first duel with my mother. A place where I could be with Carnation in spirit, if not in person.”

“Not at home?”

“Home is closed. Enclosed.” Rosewater shook her head and bit off half the bread, chewing and swallowing quickly. “It’s a place for me to huddle, not a place for me to… let go. Does that make sense? I can’t feel… at peace walled up. Not when I want to rage and cry and scream.”

“I haven’t been helping you be calm tonight, have I?” He ate his piece of bread, chewing slowly, thoughtfully.

“More than you realize, actually.” She dipped her bread again, smirking as she double dipped, and ate the last half of her bread. “I mean, other than my initial worries, and a brief attempt up here to will away the nerves… which only made things worse, trying to hasten it. Stars, I felt like a teenage filly on my way to my first date with a lover. Mane done right, perfume just right, not too much… I didn’t wear any tonight.” She flushed, her cheeks darkening in the moonlight. “In case you were wondering.”

Collar laughed, shaking his head at her and taking the knife and stick of bread to cut himself another piece. “That doesn’t sound calm to me. Maybe I should take over the cutting responsibility.”

“It’s… a different kind of nerves. Giddy. Happy.” She laughed and popped her piece of bread in. “Stars above, Collar. All my planning to try and talk to you… and here I am rambling like a teenager.”

“And eating like one. Stars, mare. Chew and swallow. Then talk.”

She laughed harder, fought, and finally controlled herself for long enough to chew, swallow, and not choke. “Thanks for the reminder.”

“You’re very welcome.” Collar was just about to take a bite out of his bread before he lowered it, a thought worming its way through his mind. “Whatever else happens,” he said, working the worm out slowly and carefully, “I’m glad that you’re… more open with me. Laughing, even. Stars, I don’t think I’ve ever heard you laugh before, Rosewater.”

“I haven’t…” Rosewater shook her head sharply. “I… want to laugh more. It feels good. It felt good with Cloudy, it feels good to laugh when you mock-bicker with me.”

“Mock?” Collar grinned and conceded the point with a wave of his bread. But the reason she was there, he was there, wasn’t for friendship. She was looking for love, and he was… what? Just playing along? “I… Rosewater…” He swallowed and lowered the crusty bread back into the bowl, not sure if he could in good conscience continue.

She noticed, her smile fading. “What? What is it? Something I said?”

“No. No. I… I don’t want you to think this might lead to love, Rosewater. I… um.” Collar stood and paced to the mouth of the trail, trying to work the words out with motion, then back to the blankets and sat facing her. “I think I’d be happy to be friends with you. Stars, if everything before Rosemary was a mask, and this is the real you, we could be good friends, but love… stars, I don’t want to play with anypony’s heart like that.”

“You’re not.” He saw the hurt in her, but she smiled through it, not hiding it, and reached out to touch his breast with a gentle hoof. “You’re not, Collar. I’m playing with my own heart, and I say it’s okay. This is a chance for me to get to know you, too. Not just because I might be deluding myself. I’ve… deluded myself already, thinking I could get to know you by snooping on your favorite things, your history, your friends. This is better, isn’t it?”

“Of course, but—” But you’re trying to fall in love with me and I’m not!

She seemed to read it in his eyes, even if he’d kept it, barely from reaching his lips. “I know. I know, Collar. And that’s okay, too. Maybe there will be somepony else I can find. Maybe I can trust somepony else enough to…”

Have a child with.

The words hung between them, just like his aborted statement.

“Maybe there will be somepony,” he said gently, raising a hoof to cross with hers. “For now, maybe we just let ourselves be friends and leave the falling in love to you and Cloudy.”

That got him a sharp bark of a laugh. “Alright. Deal. Just become friends. I can do that. And… who knows…”

He snorted and rolled his eyes. “I won’t close myself to the possibility. As I promised. But I’m not reaching for it, Rosewater.”

“To friendship, then?” Rosewater pulled the glasses out again, waggling them in the air. “That seems like a toast worthy of a Rosewine vintage.”

He took one of the glasses. “Who could argue that?”

She poured smoothly, a half glass of opaque red each, the bouquet reaching even his dead nose. Blackberry currant. Rich, tart, just the right compliment to the tart red wine fragrance he could smell.

“To friendship,” Collar proclaimed, raising his glass high.

“To friendship,” she affirmed, clinking.

Together, they drank.

Author's Note

Mmm. That first meeting without anypony else to interfere... This chapter went through so many revisions because I wanted to get it just right. This is the start, the first step, and that first step is so very important.

Thank you all for reading.