“Are you sure this was the best time to send the invitation?” Cloudy whispered, watching as the courier, Sunrise, made her way over the Rosewine bridge in the blue and purple tabard of the Damme Palace rather than the blue-on-blue of the Dammeguard. “And her?”

“She wanted to,” Collar murmured. “It was the least she could do for Rosemary and all the help she’s given to reconstitute her emotional state, she said. Her words, not mine.”

“That mare is too formal at the strangest of times,” Cloudy grumbled, remembering times far less formal when Sunrise’s voice had been raised in ecstasy, crying out to the sky around them far north of Damme, where nopony could hear, and nopony would care. She could also remember the few times that Sunrise and Cloudy had stood in review while Collar and the other nobility walked between them for state occasions.

Sunrise, in greeting her father, had been overly courteous, formal to the point of emotionless, and stiff as a board when she took her place opposite her brother at her parents’ sides.

All while Primfeather glared ahead at Cloudy for standing opposite Coat on Collar’s right side. The side traditionally relegated to spouses or an engaged pony when they weren’t family.

“She’s… like Stride in some ways. Not in so many others.” Collar sighed and leaned against the banner pole on the rooftop. “But this is the right time, Cloudy. To give it to her when she’s so clearly setting her hooves on either side of the river.”

“I know. And I’m glad you agreed to invite her yourself.”

“Stars, mare, how could I not invite her?” Collar paused for a moment, the aura around his horn flaring as the aural shield pulsed. “We have some attempted listeners. At least one, maybe two. Not very good.”

“Because you’re in love with her,” Cloudy said, ignoring his attempt to push the admission off for a second longer.

“Yes.” No explanations or temporizing. “I’m in love with her. And… she is with me. She’s told me. And I can see it in her eyes. This isn’t the mare that I fenced with… was it really only a month and a half ago?”

“It was. And she was. But she was playing games then, Collar. Trying to get under your skin and get you to do… I don’t even know what. She’s tried to explain her plan to me, but she keeps stumbling as if she was only planning a step or two ahead. ‘Get his attention… then, um, get his attention some more. And then some more.’” Cloudy coughed at the end of imitating Rosewater’s deeper voice. “She has some resonance, doesn’t she?”

Collar laughed. “She does. I love her voice. It can be so rich when she whispers, Cloudy, and that speech…”

“She has training,” Cloudy agreed. “Carnation and Budding taught her well to be who she is. When that connection was broken…”

“She told me her mother wrecked her plans. But… I think it was a cry for help, Cloudy. She didn’t know what to do, and she was so used to tackling everything by herself by then. Scared, alone, and trying to protect the one thing that she could protect.” Collar sighed again and shifted away from the banner pole. “But she’s getting better. Today, I think, is going to be another turning point for her. And for us.”

“All of us,” Cloudy agreed, and raised the spyglass to her eye again to follow Sunrise’s progress across the bridge and through the outer edges of the celebration. The treaty banner flapping above her flank in the light breeze kept most ponies away from her, but a few bobbed their heads in greeting and called out to her.

“She’s over by the concession area with those two mares we met,” Collar said softly. “Dazzle’s with her.”

Cloudy tensed for a moment before he let out a sigh.

“I’m glad. She’s more relaxed on days when she’s with him. It lets me see her as she really is, Cloudy.” He lowered his glass and glanced at her, grinning lopsidedly. “I still feel jealous that he can do that for her.”

“Don’t be. Stars, you told me about your last date. That was you and her, Collar. But she can’t be with you all the time, and neither can Dazzle. It’s a joint effort between you to make her feel like the stallions in her life won’t be taken away.”

“What?”

“You’re not going away.” Cloudy stared at him and the dawning look of horrified comprehension in his eyes. “Collar, every stallion she’s ever loved has been taken from her. Her father, Silver Star, Rosewood Bark, Rose Filigree. They all left her, some for good reasons, others because her mother drove them away. You and Dazzle are the first stallions she’s been able to feel safe around.”

“I knew… some…”

“She didn’t want you to feel like you were measuring up against her past experiences, Collar. She knows you were born a Dammer.” Cloudy leaned against his shoulder. “She’s in love with you. She loves Dazzle, and she’s worried so much about what that would do to you, so she’s tried to distance herself from him.”

“I told her not to,” Collar admitted, his voice creaking on the edges. “I wanted her heart to be safe if…” He swallowed and raised the spyglass to his eye again.

Cloudy followed the direction and raised hers as well just in time to see Rosewater glance in their direction just as Sunrise was walking down the avenue between tables and tents towards her.

The murmur of surprise reached Rosewater before the sight of Sunrise Primfeather, a treaty flag attached to a harness settled on her flank, marched around the corner.

Marched had to be the right word for it. Stiff, precise, her eyes landing on Rosewater and widening slightly as her eyes darted from her face to mane, then to tail, and lingered on her tail… or her flank for a split second before darting back to her face.

“What do you suppose this is about?” Dazzle asked, raising a hoof to shade his eyes in the noonday sun.

“Whatever it is,” Golden said from beside him, crowding closer to Fervent in an attempt to head off her wife’s obvious interest, “we should probably not interfere, don’t you think, love?”

“But—”

“But it’s Damme politics,” Golden replied, giggling, and pushed her towards a table farther down. “Look, they have pastries like they do in Canterlot over here.”

“But—”

Rosewater laughed softly after they’d gotten out of range. “Stars, I like them.”

Dazzle grinned and nipped her cheek. “I do, too. They’re so innocent of Merrie, and it reminds me of my first ventures across the bridge to watch them.”

“Lady Rosewater Rosethorn?” Sunrise asked in a stiffly formal tone. “Sergeant Sunrise Primfeather, acting ambassadorial agent from Lord Primline Collar here with a message for you.”

From Collar? Rosewater’s attention jerked from the mare in front of her to the pair of ponies watching the goings on below before she could control herself. What are you about?

“Love,” Dazzle murmured in her ear. “Back to Merrie, please.”

“Right. My apologies, Sergeant Sunrise. I didn’t mean to dismiss you, I’m surprised is all.” Rosewater stood straighter and shook out her braid so it hung against her neck. “Is the message verbal or written?”

“Both, my lady,” Sunrise said, an edge of wariness in her voice as she couldn’t stop herself from looking around at the ponies not-so-unobtrusively listening in. “Lord Primline Collar, heir of Damme, wishes to invite you, personally, to the Fall Treaty Gala as his honored guest in recognition of your determination, candor, and patience during the herdgild negotiations for Rosemary Rosethorn.”

“A personal invite,” Dazzle said with a whistle. “That’s a bold move.”

“Thank you, Sergeant. I accept, and please tell him that I accept gladly and with my whole heart.” She bowed her head to Sunrise. “You have delivered the verbal portion of your missive. The written?”

With mechanical precision, Sunrise ducked her head under her wing and brought out a scroll case, sealed with twin emerald chips on either end that glowed with protective force.

Dazzle whistled even louder and sat back. “I’ve never seen a scroll case like that before, ‘Water.”

“Thank you, Sunrise,” Rosewater whispered, forgetting the formalities for a moment as she cupped the case in her magic, wondering what the keyword would be to open it and not daring to try one she hoped it was in public. “I have received the written portion of your missive and release you from your bonds as courier, but I would appreciate it if you told him anyway what I said.”

Sunrise blinked owlishly at her. “My lady? I wasn’t supposed to be released until…” She swallowed.

Rosewater glanced to the rooftop perch Collar and Cloudy were still occupying, far too distant for her to get an aural message. But maybe…

She mouthed, ‘Let her enjoy herself’ as obviously as she could, forming the word shapes with her lips even as the spyglasses glinted in place of their heads.

“If you feel uncomfortable, please return to Collar with my blessing, but this is a celebration of what our two cities can do together, Sunrise, not simply a sales event for merchants of both cities.”

“Even if Petal’s making a killing today,” Dazzle muttered sotto voce.

“My lady,” Sunrise said in the same formal tones. “I’m afraid this was not my only duty today, and I cannot shirk them.” She gave the Damme salute of a hoof to the base of her neck, and Rosewater returned it with the Merrier hoof to her breast.

“You’re welcome to come back after you’ve discharged your other duties, Sunrise.”

“My thanks, my lady,” Sunrise replied before bowing and turning in the same militarily precision.

Rosewater studied the scroll case for another moment, then tucked it into her day pouch, the weight and size of it making a comfortable heft against her shoulder. “Well. That was unexpectedly pleasant.”

She didn’t miss Crown’s uneasy look from behind a tent flap before she ducked back inside. It was another thing that Crown would have to tell Roseate before the crowds’ rumors reached Rosejoy, whether she was sauced enough to understand them or not would hardly matter.

“I’ll have to nip Collar’s ears for that one, though,” Dazzle grumbled. “I’m gonna have to try hard to one-up him and make him work harder.”

Rosewater laughed softly and nudged him to his feet with her shoulder. “Come on. We don’t want to just sit around all day. We’re ambassadors, too, Dazzle.”

The mares were practically beaming when Rosewater made her way back to where they’d stopped, well within earshot if they strained and didn’t have any listening spells, and Fervent actually reared up to catch Rosewater in a neck-creaking hug.

“I’m so happy for you!”

“Fervent,” Golden whined, grabbing her tail with a spell and tugging her back. “You can’t just hug ponies like that.”

“She can,” Dazzle replied, laughing and rearing up to lean against Rosewater’s flank. “She absolutely can if she wants to. Provided Rosewater doesn’t mind.”

“Breathe!” Rosewater gasped.

“And,” Dazzle added in a low aside to Fervent, who squeaked and let her go, ears flat. “Provided she can breathe to give her consent, you understand.”

“Oh my gosh!” Fervent huddled against Golden. “I was so happy to hear that he was taking an interest in you, my lady, I didn’t even think!”

“You have… a strong hug,” Rosewater said with a rasp. “I do appreciate your… fervent congratulations, however.”

Golden burst into laughter and leaned into her wife until a grumpy Fervent stepped aside, rolling her eyes and blushing at the same time, and let the laughing mare fall over.

“My lady has an indelicate sense of humor,” Fervent grumbled. “Was I really choking you? Or was it all a setup?”

“Mmm. Which will get me back into your good graces?” Rosewater danced forward and nipped Fervent’s ear, much as she would a friend. “I tease a little, but that was a strong embrace.”

Fervent flushed, giggled, and glanced at Golden. “Either, I suppose. It was a little… fervent of me to do that. But, stars, if you succeed, and he does, you can negotiate an end to this war. I’ve read all about its history, and seeing its effects…” She waved down the pathway between tents and tables. Most of the Dammers and Merriers were separated by the width of the path.

Rosewater, Petal, Seed, and Bliss, who could freely wander over to Damme and have conversations with the sellers, had been careful only to pair up sellers that were comfortable with each other. That amounted to a paltry few out of the dozens of sellers set up in the commerce and concession area.

“It will end,” Rosewater assured her. “Whether in my generation or the next, Lace has planted the seeds of the end of the war. She’s shown both cities what life could be like without the constant threat. That’s why I’m hopeful, and grateful for Collar’s personal invitation. It gives me a chance to do what I believe is part of my purpose in life. To bring peace and unity.”

Dazzle bobbed his head beside her and nuzzled her shoulder, then sat beside her. “It’s why I love her. She’s a good pony, and she cares deeply about her city and her family. Those that don’t hate her, at least.”

Golden winced and nodded. “I understand. We’ve, um… I think, spent enough time monopolizing your time, my lady. You’ve been so kind to us, but I think we can manage without getting lost.”

Fervent seemed about to protest, but glanced around and nodded. “There are other ponies here that seem like they want to talk to you. You’re not just our ambassador, or guide, or… whatever, my lady. You’re representing the Garden.”

“I am. And thank you, Fervent. We’re taking a break to have an early dinner just before the dancing starts with the rest of the Garden, and we’d like you to join us.” Rosewater perked one ear and looked up to the sky, then tasted the wind and snorted. Already, the smell of warm air was starting to wane, even though the sun kept it from biting. “It’ll be the last day we have warm weather for, well, possibly until Spring unless we get a lucky warm front again soon.”

“We’d love to,” Fervent said before Golden could object. “That will give us some time to try out some local cuisine, love. For lunch and snacking. There’s so much to see here.”

“Alright, alright,” Golden said with a lopsided grin. “We’ve been having fun.”

They left, laughing and talking about what they wanted to try next, pointing out signs and raising their noses to follow smells for a while.

“They’re going to stay,” Dazzle murmured. “I can tell.”

“They’re from Canterlot,” Rosewater replied, hoping he was right, but not willing to trust. “They have an itinerary, and ships don’t wait.”

“That’s true. But look at them, Rosewater. Look at how happy they are here.”

Like my father. A wave of want for Dazzle to be right washed over her. Rather than hold it in, she nodded. “I hope they do.”

“My lady?” A voice asked from behind them, small and almost foalish, but definitely a colt.

Rosewater turned to find a young Damme-born colt standing, looking nervous. “Yes, young stallion?”

Dazzle nuzzled her neck and leaned against her.

“My lady, I can’t find my friends.” His voice was small, and seemed almost afraid. “They were right there, but I stopped to look at a stand, and when I turned around, they were gone.”

And not a bottle and rose tabard in sight. “I think we can find them. What were you doing before?”

“Sniffing the candles. They were so pretty, and they smelled so lovely, and the nice mare at the stand gave me one. For free.” He ducked his head to pull out the bag from his small saddlebag. “Dis un.”

One of Roselyn’s. A fragrant one that may have stuck to the other young ponies if they’d brushed against it. Rosewater leaned forward to sniff at the bag, drawing on her heritage to pull in all the other scents on it, and was able to separate out at least one other young pony that had brushed against the bag. A young filly with a distinctly un-Dammer fragrance to her. “We will definitely be able to find them. What are their names?”

He took a moment to tuck the bag away. “Trigger, Spots, and, um… Valley.” His cheeks colored and his ears dipped. “She’s my fillyfriend.” He leaned in closer. “The others don’t know. Please don’t tell them.”

“I won’t,” Rosewater promised him solemnly, and gave Dazzle, grinning like an idiot, a meaningful look. “And neither will my coltfriend tell them.”

“Stallion’s promise,” Dazzle proclaimed, touching a hoof to his breast in the Merrie fashion. “She’s not from Damme, is she?”

“N-no, sir.” He suddenly seemed afraid, and glanced at Rosewater of all ponies for reassurance. “I-I didn’t do anything wrong. Mom said it was okay if I liked her, but dad…”

“You did nothing wrong,” Rosewater reassured him. “Rose Valley? I know a Rose Valley from here in the garden. I know her mother, too.”

Trepidation settled into the set of his ears at first, then he nodded. “Yes, my lady. She… said I could trust you. I trust her.”

“You love her,” Rosewater murmured, and nodded when his cheeks flushed darker. “Let us see if we can find your friends, um…”

“Tuck. Prim Tuck.” His tail swished, and he glanced around him. “My mom and dad do a lot of laundry for the Garden village, and I help. It’s how I met her.”

“Oho.” Dazzle laughed and stamped a hoof. “Let’s go find his friends, and I’d like to meet his parents. That’s a rare Dammer family.”

“And this is Dazzle,” Rosewater muttered, giving him a light nip. “He is very excitable, as you can see.”

Tuck laughed and nodded. “Do… you need to sniff me?”

“No. I think, probably, your fillyfriend has already realized you were missing. But I can find her.” A quick sampling of the air for her scent mingled with the candle brought her in the opposite direction he’d come from. It was faint and fading fast in the traffic, but it was a starting direction. “Just in case, what does she look like?”

The description was more or less what Rosewater had expected from a young love. The most beautiful eyes, lips that shone, ears that perked upright whenever he said anything. It was less helpful than what she’d hoped, but the little bits that did come through confirmed her guess. Rosewood Valley, youngest daughter of Apple Rosewood and her first husband. A gangling tall earth pony filly who might grow up to rival Rosewater for height, judging from her hoof size already.

“You know who it is,” Dazzle whispered to her.

“I do,” she whispered back as Tuck continued on describing how she was so graceful despite being so tall and thin. A figure she would grow into, as Rosewater knew well from her days of gangling un-grace. She’d also be easier to spot from her tall vantage point if her scent, already waning to the point where she had to draw on her full heritage—and all the stinks and nauseatingly unbecoming smells that came with it—just to get a whiff through the crowd.

It was one downside of tracking a pony in Merrie. There were too many other competing scents that they merged and mingled into a morass of incomprehensibility before too long.

But they would find her, and maybe Tuck’s friends with her.

Somehow, she doubted that Valley would stick with them if a pony she cared for wasn’t. Especially if, like her big brother, she tended to care deeply about newly met and befriended ponies.

“We’ll find her, Tuck,” Rosewater murmured to him when he fell into a nervous silence.

“Yes, my lady,” he said, uncertainty already in his voice.

The immediacy of youth. She smiled and continued on in the same direction the scent seemed to lead.

“Lost pony duty,” Collar murmured, lowering his spyglass and stepping away from the edge of the roof and towards the stairway leading to the ground. “I think we should probably take a break, Cloudy. It would look awful odd if you and I were both up here for the entire event.” Watching her, watching the event, was making him want to defy the recommendation from Priceless and go anyway, regardless of the risk to himself or Cloudy.

It was a treaty-sanctioned event, after all, but she could easily be caught and arrested, or her presence might trigger a hunt and detain by the Merrieguard ordered by Roseate.

It could all be over even before word got to the Treaty office. Even if it was shoved right back down Roseate’s throat, even if it meant Roseate would get roasted over an open firepit. Whatever they did to Cloudy in the meantime would still happen, and he’d have to fight openly to keep it from happening.

And who knew what kind of fecal hurricane that would cause.

“A good plan. Riverside cafe? They should be fairly empty.” Cloudy glanced once more at the festival in full swing just on the other side of the river. “Or not. I imagine there’s going to be quite the spillover for the lunch hour. There’s not enough seats for all of them in that little space.”

Collar chewed his lip.

“Or,” Cloudy went on, “we could take advantage of the fact that it’s a treaty-sanctioned event, even if it’s not treaty-mandated, and visit for a short time. Try some of the food, speak to some of the vendors, even some of our own citizens that decided to visit.”

“But—”

“Treaty sanctioned,” Cloudy reminded him. “It’s an event meant to promote unity. It means that for the duration, the ground the festival is on is treated like Canterlot itself. Neutral ground. No arrests. No fighting. And harsh penalties if anypony tries either.”

They’d spent all morning surveilling the event, too, and knew where all the Merrieguard were - on the outside of the event, not inside, and the corridor from bridge to grounds was treated the same. Treaty-blessed ground.

“Let’s do it,” he said before he could talk himself out of it for another reason. Priceless’s warning of what it would do to the rumors of his relationship with Rosewater be damned. They’d all know soon enough anyway if he had anything to say about it. “For lunch. Stars, those funnel cakes with rose jam drizzle were making my mouth water.”

The guard at the Rosewine bridge seemed more than startled as he and Cloudy approached, both of them bare of official markings. Even the choker he was supposed to wear at official functions, he’d left behind, not expecting to do anything official.

And it’s not, is it? You’re not going from an invitation given to you personally. It was open to all, and the criers had been shouting it from street corners in both Merrie and Damme, albeit with some extra local flavor in certain parts of Damme.

One, an older stallion perhaps a decade older than Collar, saluted sharply. “Sir, do you need an escort?” It took him a moment to pull the stallion’s name from memory.

“No. Thank you. I trust to the treaty and the good sense of the Merriers running the festival,” he replied. “There must be a lot of Dammeguard over there anyway if they’re pulling you out of an office, Papiere.”

The stallion chuckled. “Naw. Just wanted to get some fresh air. Besides Captain Pink makes all us bureaucratic types take a walk around the city now and again anyway, and if she has to make us…”

“True, true.” Collar chuckled and started past, then stopped. “We’re going over for lunch, Papier. If anypony wants to know where we are, that’s where.”

“Yes, sir. Stars, could you bring me something? I’ve been standing here since morning smelling all that food, and it’s torture.” On cue, his stomach growled. “My wife might kill me for not eating her lunch, but it just smells so good.”

“I can think of something,” Cloudy added, grinning. “Maybe something to go with your wife’s stew instead of replacing it.”

“Ah! Yes, please. Some kind of bread?”

Collar felt a flush rising up his neck, and nodded. “They do make some amazing breads. If I remember, your wife makes a salty seafood soup?”

“Kelp and shrimp,” Papier agreed.

“Dark rye dill,” Collar said immediately. “I’ve had it before, and I think it would go wonderfully. I’ll get you a loaf if they have some.”

“Thank you, sir.”

At the middle point of the bridge where there was a pair of Gardeners in the wine bottle and rose tabards they’d been seeing all day, Cloudy whispered, “You do realize there might not be the same baker here today?”

“I know. We’ll improvise. You’re good at that.”

“And you’re not,” Cloudy huffed.

“Then teach me. We’re improvising right now, so fertile ground for lessons, yes?” Collar chuckled at her growl and stepped forward to greet the awed youngsters. “I’d like to buy a contributor band, please. For me and my fiance.”

“M-my lord?” The colt on the left asked, the small basket of bands that he’d seen all too few ponies buy into was still almost full.

“I want to support this endeavor, young stallion. It’s important to both of our cities in a way the galas are not.” Collar spotted a pricing board leaning against one of the bridge supports, read quickly, and nodded. “Make that two bands each, please. Fourteen bits?”

He glanced at his partner, also with a basket of cloth bands, these a white color and marked with a simply stitched ‘Thank you!’ and a tiny stamped painting of a rose and vine on one side and a grape cluster on the other. His pricing board said two bits for a band.

“Y-yes my lord,” the first stallion said, and pulled out four of the cloth bands. These, Collar saw, were decorated with a more intricate design of twining rose and grape vines, each one slightly different, and stitched out with, ‘I support the Garden.’ “A-are you certain, my lord?”

“Absolutely. My only question would be whether I can take at least one home with me at the end of the day.”

“They’re yours, my lord,” the other colt said, not as overawed as his companion. “We don’t ask for them back.” His counterpart nodded rapidly and pulled out four bands.

“If you buy four each,” Cloudy murmured soto voce, “you can tie them together into a ‘collar,’ Collar.”

“See? This is why I need you to help me improvise, Cloudy, I’m just no good at it.” Collar pulled out five solid gold ten-bit stamped coins and six smaller, gold-rimmed bits and passed them to the youngster. It was practically his entire self-imposed allowance for the day, but he still had enough to buy lunch and a loaf of bread for Papier. “Thank you, young stallions.”

They stared at him as he passed, tying four into a lanyard for Cloudy and draping them around her neck, and then tying four together rather more loosely to make a collar for himself, a bit snug, but not choking as long as he kept it up high.

“It looks good on you,” Cloudy said in as dignified a manner as she could, barely holding back snickers. “If you stitched them together, it’d look better.”

“Maybe there’s a seamstress who can do it quick…” Collar stopped at the entrance to read the board full of wood-carved names and professions that had been stuck up as each arrived. “That looks promising. Silk and Scarlet Boutique. Very… seamstressey.”

“That’s not a word,” Cloudy grumbled at him, her lips trembling to tell him what he already knew. That the ‘Silk’ in Silk and Scarlet was Silk Rose.

“Still. Let’s have a wander, and if we run into the place, we can see about getting a quick fix. It does have a tendency to work its way down.” It was also hard to ignore the looks of Merriers and Dammers alike as all traffic seemed to stop for a few moments as he passed, and the whispers that started up made him start to regret the firestorm he was likely to have descend upon Rosewater and the Gardens’ head for being so reckless.

On the other hoof, gossip spread faster than a pegasus, and it didn’t take long for Rosewater to come see what the commotion was about, flanked by two tabarded ponies, a filly likely near her first majority, and a stallion likely already past his, though barely.

The impulse to brush past them all and embrace her rose up in him suddenly, and he shooed it away just as quickly, to savor later, when he could do so at will.

“Imagine my surprise,” Rosewater said in a dry voice, “when I found out I would need to take my role as Garden Ambassador rather more seriously than I thought I would have to this morning. Welcome, my lord, my lady. I trust there have been no incidents? We’ve heard quite a number of tall tales from all manner of mouths just in the past few minutes.”

“All untrue, I assure you, my lady,” Collar said graciously, bowing briefly. “I merely came to appreciate the mingling of ponies from both of our cities. I’d not expected you to be here, or to intercept us so quickly.”

“My lord underestimates the importance Petal puts on the safety of all of the guests here.” Rosewater gave his ‘collar’ a curious look, then Cloudy’s lanyard. “We do have actual neck bands to buy, if you wish. In a variety of different sizes, in the memorabilia sections.”

“But do they support the gala itself?” Collar asked earnestly, touching the bands. “These go to the organization of the next gala, don’t they?”

Rosewater’s expression softened, and she nodded. “They do. Thank you, my lord, for giving support towards next quarter’s gala. It will mean less out of the Garden’s coffers.” Some more tension bled away from her, and it was a relief to see her smile more brightly. “You must have come here for some purpose, though.”

To see you. The words were almost off his lips before he changed them, “To see how the garden was doing. We saw the young Dammer who got lost.”

“Ah! Yes. Prim Tuck, child of Trim and Tidy of a laundry of the same name. Lovely ponies, and stars, his fillyfriend was so relieved.” She laughed brightly. “In fact, we were just about to bid them fare well and a good festival when these two came running.” She nodded to the tabarded ponies to either side of her. “Zephirine and Rainwater.”

The mare stood slack jawed staring at him, her ears limp and eyes wide until she seemed to realize he was looking right at her. “M-my lord!”

“Relax Zephirine,” Collar said gently, touching a hoof to her shoulder. “I’m here as a guest. Nothing more.”

Rainwater was almost the same, but he recovered in the time she was still stammering, and bowed, his wings extending briefly in a court-ready bow. “My lord, my lady.”

“My lady,” Zephirine said with a little more control of herself, and even shot a glower at Rainwater that he returned with a smirk and a wink.

“Relax, both of you,” Cloudy said, standing as tall as her slighter stature let her.

“And back to your duties. There are more ponies out there that will need guidance and help. I’ll handle things here.”

“Yes, my lady,” Zephirine said in a calm, steady voice, though she ruined the effect by sticking her tongue out at Rainwater just before both of them dashed off together.

“They’re being themselves,” Rosewater said, laughing. “And this, my lord and lady, is Primrazzle Dazzle, of the Garden.”

“Formerly of Damme,” Dazzle added, touching his hoof to the base of his neck after the Dammer style. “It’s a pleasure to see you thriving, my lord, without my gallantry and bravery.”

Cloudy stuck her tongue out at Dazzle while Collar was still dealing with meeting, face to face, the stallion who shared Rosewater’s bed. The expected jealousy was there, but not as strongly as he’d expected it to be. Indeed, as she nipped Dazzle’s ear and hissed at him to behave, a laugh hiding behind her words in the tone of her voice, he felt gratitude towards him. He was helping Rosewater be herself.

That, he realized, was more important than who filled her nights. It was like a day replacing night, and all the lessons Dapper had given him about the ways of his ponies, and Cloudy had impressed upon him, had suddenly jumped into clarity.

It wasn’t ever about her physical love. It was about the state of her mind, that she could be free to give her love freely to whomever she wished.

“I want to thank you, Dazzle,” Collar found himself saying, the thoughts catching up to the words he needed to say after they’d already left the tip of his tongue. “For giving Rosewater the support and love she needs. I’ve heard much about you from—” His thoughts caught up to the leaking of words finally and strangled the rest of that sentence before it could be voiced.

The panic in Rosewater’s eyes warned him about speaking too candidly, too soon in the open. This was a secret that her and his opponents in their cities would pay a princess’s ransom for at this stage of their courtship.

“Cloudy,” he finished with only a hitch. “She served with you for a year, and I’m glad to see the upstanding stallion she told me about is as fine as Rosewater deserves.”

The nervous fear faded from Rosewater’s eyes, but her attention shifted to Dazzle, and he realized just how much extra interest he’d have generated in him once the rumors and gossip finished filtering through to Roseate. Stars, even to Wing, and to Dazzle’s family.

Stars, you put your hoof in it this time.

“It’s been my pleasure, my lord. She makes it so easy to love her, that I’m glad to pull her back down to the ground when her fears start to accumulate.”

“Dazzle,” Rosewater grumbled. “Stars, I’m not that bad.”

“Anymore, no.”

It hurt to think that he hadn’t been the one to help her… but he hadn’t even been in a place to begin to offer her that comfort when he’d started giving it. Cloudy had been in that mindspace, and recognized what she needed.

The strength of Merrier relationships. It was friendship, but deeper. He was seeing that now between Dazzle and Rosewater.

“We were looking for something for lunch,” Cloudy said, flicking her tail against Collar’s hind leg, reminding him not to stare. “And something for a guard friend to add to his lunch. Know anything good, or any bakers that are selling today? A loaf, maybe?”

“At the gala? We have a few bakers, but not loaf sellers. It’s all samples and sandwiches. It’s easier to spread out their interest farther,” Rosewater said, glancing at Dazzle and raising a brow. “You were involved more with setting up the concession area. Any suggestions come to mind?”

“Rosy Glass has a couple tables set up to sample her lunches. She’s really ramping up for dinner, but she should have some warm stew ready.” Dazzle glanced at Cloudy and Collar, grinned, and nipped Rosewater’s cheek. “She also promised me a free glass of wine if I managed to drag you over. She might give me three if I bring all three of you.”

Rosewater gave Collar a look that he interpreted as, Look at what I put up with.

He laughed and flung a foreleg over Dazzle’s shoulders. “I think maybe I can help you out there. As long as Cloudy and I get one of the free glasses.”

“But—”

Rosewater chuckled and fell in beside Cloudy behind them. “It’s good to see them get along so quickly.”

“Get along?!” Dazzle squeaked. “He’s robbing me of two glasses of wine!”

“That you wouldn’t have without us,” Collar reminded him. “Come on, which way. We have wine to taste, and lunch to have.”

“Ah, that reminds me,” Rosewater said, glancing at Cloudy. “After the actual gala, we’re planning another commerce event on the Primrose bridge to kind of be the more traditional ‘Commoner’s Gala.’ The delay Lace negotiated for gave us the opportunity to really go all out with this one. I think, if it’s successful, we might permanently change the day our Gala is held.”

“And you’d like us to come to that one, too?” Cloudy asked.

“I would, yes, and so would Dazzle.”

“If he buys me two glasses of wine!”

“Baby,” Rosewater shot back, laughing. “Buy your own wine.”

“But it tastes sweeter when it’s free!”

Collar found himself laughing despite the tension he still felt between himself and the stallion. Maybe a tension Dazzle himself was unaware of… except he was making an extra effort to be a goof, something he’d only seen happened rarely in his Dammeguard files, and it had usually been to help unit cohesion. One reason he’d risen so fast in the Dammeguard was his instinctive ability to connect with the ponies around him.

He’d definitely shown that with Rosewater.

Perhaps she’d fallen in with exactly the ponies she’d need to in order to heal. “Two glasses of wine, provided you tell me which is the best.”

“Why?”

“So I can buy another for myself.” Collar grinned. “I’m new to the flavors of the Garden, Dazzle. I need a guide.” And I need help understanding this very different part of Merrie. “Help me out?”

Something in his voice drew Dazzle’s gaze more sharply, and one of his ears flicked backwards, held in place and righted itself. “With more than the wine?”

“With everything. Stars, stallion, I’ve barely even had a chance to experience Merrie during the galas, and that’s so constrained that it’s hard to get a feeling for the city and its ponies.” He fixed Dazzle with a more meaningful look, which let him glance back to Rosewater, watching both of them with a fixed smile on her lips. Worried again. “So help a stallion negotiate the tricky streets, huh?”

“Hey, sure. I mean, I suppose technically, if you really stretch the definition, I’m still a citizen of Damme, and you’re still my lord.” He hummed and tipped his head left and right, as if wrestling with the concept. “Maybe I can see to helping you understand how things work here. Provided you help me out.”

“With?”

“Ah-ah! A favor at a later date.” Dazzle grinned. “That’s lesson one. Favors for later are currency around here.”

“And in Damme,” Collar muttered.

“I promise it won’t be onerous.”

“Deal,” Collar replied, stopping at a corner to offer the younger stallion a hoof. “When do lessons start?”

“Dazz,” Rosewater called. “Don’t forget we have cleanup tonight. Don’t try to wheedle your way out of it.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Dazzle called back, grinning through gritted teeth. “Dang.”

Collar laughed again. “How about a week from now? Come to Prim Palace, and I’d love to talk to you.” And introduce you to Rosemary.

Rosewater’s eyebrows had risen to her forelock when he glanced back at the two mares, and Cloudy’s expression was no less shocked.

Too far?

“Sure. Just, uh, try not to shove me back into uniform, okay?”

“Deal.”

Crown had spent the entire Gala shadowing Rosewater however she thought she might inconspicuously. Having Lord Rutting Collar drop in out of rutting nowhere had thrown a massive stone in the still pond that had been her medium for blending in. Ponies stopped to talk about the heirs of both cities apparently chatting amiably and apparently going on a date together with their respective romantic interests.

Stars, Rosewater, did you want to give Roseate a heart attack? It was one of the only things that could maybe do it anymore. A rage-induced attack. Rosewater apparently having a stallion that she was so enamoured of that she’d apparently given up her interest in Collar was a big thing. That he was also a citizen of Damme was going to make it even more rage-inducing.

Crown approved of Dazzle. He was a good foil to Rosewater’s tendency to be too serious, but little bits of that came out in the way Collar interacted with Dazzle, too.

It was… difficult to tell which one of them would be a more complimentary influence, and which one Crown wanted to root for in ultimately winning Rosewater’s heart, and hoof. And the co-rulership of Merrie.

One thing she was certain of was that Rosewater was not yet pregnant. She’d gotten enough of a whiff of the mare in private during their chat, and none of the scent markers were there. She had plenty of experience with recognizing them at the Rose Palace. The midwives there were free to all, and they handled more pregnancies throughout the city than Crown had ever thought were possible in a city even of Merrie’s promiscuity.

It was one of the unalloyed good things that Roseate had let stay after Roseline passed away. One of very few things.

However, if she wasn’t trying to get that way, Crown would eat a page out of one of her books. One she disliked, maybe. Maybe one of that prat Primline the Romantic’s and his doddering about things he only had stumbling knowledge of. Maybe even the page where he, in his magnanimous self-importance, had declared himself the most knowledgeable expert on the subject of romance in the entirety of the world.

That book alone had likely extended the war by another decade or two. It wasn’t helped by the fact that he’d died alone and unloved, mocked and derided while living in his own fantasy world where everypony loved him.

She kept a copy for when she needed a good laugh.

Or maybe he was another victim. She’d never really thought of that before, and the need to examine it and formulate a response to it so she could debate Crisp and Gilded later that night almost sent her home to write it and examine the book and his other works for evidence of her newborn theory.

There was no more good intelligence she would get today. Rosewater had already given her the choicest bit, and unless Collar misstepped so severely that he asked Rosewater to marry him in the middle of the Commoner’s Gala, she’d have nothing more to report but the few rumors that might reach her before Roseate called her in to give a report.

That incident with the sweaty, muddy mess, had made Roseate at least order her not to report until she was called upon.

Another minor victory.

And yet, if she disappeared from an event that Silk Rose was also attending, handing out samples of cloth and showing off some of her own designs, the disparity between their reports might be enough to have Roseate punish her. Perhaps with cesspit mucking like she’d afflicted on her two older sisters.

Or worse. Taking a turn at the composting heap where the farmers all got their fertilizer from. Magically treated, turned, and enriched, it was an innovation that meant the city could have a sewer that didn’t empty into the river and muck up its mostly pristine waters with filth and disease.

It was an innovation she’d heard had caught on in Canterlot and Los Pegasus to the south.

Watching other ponies eat and talk about nothing in particular was boring. They were discussing the news the criers were shouting, each one on a different corner having a different tidbit to share for a small donation from the passers by or a patron.

Lately, it seemed that some Merrier farmers were trying to get their marriages recognized and their new farmland, bought with the same money the Garden had paid them for their original land, registered as inheritable by any of their children, regardless of which mother-father pairing it was.

Some had already given up and moved back to the Merrie side of the river, grumbling about Roseate being right, but a couple were staying to fight, apparently supported by their neighbors and a not inconsiderable upswelling of support from some of the granary owners they would be selling to in the future.

It would be a long fight, seemed to be the consensus, because Frosty’s law had grown from its original retributive intent keeping Frosty and her children from forming the same kind of alliances that Merriers often did in those hot days of the war. Now, from listening to them, it had grown to encompass nearly all of Dammer marriage law, including inheritance.

“…little bit of nastiness came when Frosty’s firstborn, illegitimate, child tried to force her secondborn from the throne by right of firstborn rule,” Collar was saying, his voice exasperated. “It nearly fomented a civil war, because the firstborn, Frosthoof Primfeather, was more properly a Tussen Twee follower, while her first legitimate child was borderline Principes.”

“And the hardline wanted him instead of Glory Primfeather.”

“Indeed. And Merrie was waiting for it to happen,” Rosewater added. “As soon as it did, they’d arrive at the aid of Glory and drive Frosthoof’s forces from the field… then turn around and take Damme from Glory and win. Nopony was certain if Glory would just surrender at that point, but after some talking, she eventually settled with Frosthoof, and the civil war was averted, and if she died childless, his children would take the throne.”

“Which is exactly what happened,” Collar said with a grunt. “It’s pointless to try and prove now, but the common consensus is that Frosthoof had her poisoned to infertility. Or caused every child of hers to be a miscarriage. But there is a reason why Frosthoof was the last Primfeather ruler, and why the treaty was instituted at the end of his reign. Frosthoof the Red is a dark stain on our past.”

“We all have stains,” Cloudy said softly, leaning against him. “The Rosewings in my ancestral line had more than one ‘The Red.’”

“And so did we.” Collar scrubbed at his face.

“Let’s, um, not linger so much on past history,” Dazzle said, trying to sound chipper and failing badly even to the tinny quality his voice had through the listening spell. “What about happier things? Like this? Us. And you. Two heirs of cities historically at each others’ throats, having a glass of wine, enjoying stew and bread and cheese. Laughing with each other. That’s historic.”

It really is, Crown wondered, suddenly glad she hadn’t hared off to formulate a speech about an inconsequential ‘philosopher.’ What she was witness to was possibly the birth of the future, one without war, where her loves and their children could live without fear.

It was what she wanted. So badly. If she could pack up and move to live with her father, she would in the next instant, but that would leave too many of her friends and occasional lovers in Roseate’s sights. And she, unable to even see them again.

Crown settled in, listening with renewed interest, and felt something almost like hope flicker to life in a heart that had believed in too much of the tragic classics.

The feeling was one she’d never thought she’d experience for herself.

And she hoped it wouldn’t lead her to greater tragedy.

Author's Note

Closer and closer. Bit by bit, Rosewater and Collar get closer, and start to show their real faces to the public world.

But evil horse mom is also watching through more eyes than Crown's.