Rosewater followed Cut’s directions as she turned her head to the side, breaking her view in the mirror of the coiffure he was working ribbons and some kind of near-scentless pomade into, setting the natural wave of her mane into more of a curl against her cheek.

“That’s it, just hold…” Cut’s voice, in the near silence of the Garden Villa’s bath house, echoed slightly over the water in the bath, not cold but not steaming either. He swept a comb through a lock and twisted it, then applied a brush not quite dripping with the stuff he was using to lock her curls into place. He repeated the process over and over, clipping her mane into place here and there, then removing the clips at seemingly inane intervals, slowly building up her mane into something that would be bound together with Dammer blue ribbons.

Somewhere in the middle of the treatment, somepony had knocked on the door, then slipped inside behind her, blocked from view by Cut as he bustled about and turned her mirror this way and that, letting her catch a glimpse of who she thought was Silver Drop as the mare settled in to watch and wait for a moment when she wouldn’t be interrupting an artist at his work.

Eventually, Cut found a place where he had to stop playing with her mane and stepped back to the pile of ribbons.

“You are going to owe me so much, Rosewater. Thank you, at least, for stopping by to get a ring fit for your horn.”

“You’re welcome.”

Cut’s brows rose as he turned back to Rosewater. “Ring?”

“For the diadem,” Rosewater said even as Silver pulled out an assemblage of four chains attached to a ring set forward of center, hovering in the center of the chain linkage. “It’s specifically made for unicorns who don’t want to have the thing squeezing their skull.”

“And you didn’t tell me you had a diadem because…?” Cut’s voice was accusatory, but his eyes were locked on the central ornamentation, pink, blue, and white. Rose, wing, horn. Merrie, Damme, and peace. Earth pony, pegasus, unicorn. Symbols on symbols on symbols. It was, she thought, a fitting diadem for unifying a city. “It will work,” Cut said without more comment, and stepped back to let Silver fit the ring over her horn.

For Rosewater, it felt like a crowning, as if she was finally taking up the station she had been born into. Tonight, she wouldn’t be Rosewater. Not wholly. Tonight, she would be Lady Rosethorn, heiress apparent to Merrie. The crown would be the sign to others that she wasn’t acting only for herself. She was taking up the reigns of power that her mother didn’t want her to.

By the end of the night…

She took a deep breath as Silver made a few adjustments, unclipped the chains from the ring and adjusted the link lengths with a few twists of a simple tool, and tightened the chains until the simple silver ornament almost hovered over her ears, then a slight twist of the ring settled it so the ring of metal rested on her head, cushioned by her mane, and the hoops that the chains clipped to rested into the ridge at the base of her horn, needing only to be turned to release.

“Perfect,” Silver said, admiring her work and nodding. “They’re all breakaway chains, so just in case she tries to rip it off, the chains will break easily.”

Cut stared at her. “Would she… Roseate? Do that?”

“Were we alone?” Rosewater asked, cocking her head side-to-side and studying both the play of the chains—it barely moved at all—and the way the diadem rested on her head between her ears felt… right. It didn’t bounce and bob as she’d expected, but neither did it shift about. “She absolutely would.”

Cut swallowed.

“I need to be ready for tonight, Cut,” Rosewater said softly, and surrounded the ornament on her diadem. “This is my sword, and how I’m dressed, how my mane is done and in what colors, are my armor. Tonight, I go to do polite battle with my mother and make good on a scheme I’ve been working on since the last, not at all polite, battle I had with her.”

Cut glanced at her eyes in the mirror, then relaxed.

Rosewater felt calm. Nothing was going to rattle her before tonight. “I apologize for springing the last minute decoration change on you, but I had no idea until just this moment that it would be ready.”

“It’s fine, my lady,” he said, resuming his steady pace. “I’m almost done making sure the waves in your mane are more pronounced. Then we can work the ribbons in. And your… tail?”

“Please. I promise, I won’t wink at you, Cut. I am not in that kind of mood tonight.” Not yet. Once she was in the throes of dancing with Collar, that might change. It all depended on the dances and the music, and she already knew that most of the night was set to be a sedate, stately affair, save for one or two lively surprises from Merrie’s repertoire. “I almost wish you could go. You’re far more personable than most of your peers that will be attending, and it would be nice to see if you would be up to luring away one of the lower house’s mares or stallions away to dance.”

“Mares, my lady. We may be twins, but as we joke, my brother got my mother’s inclination towards stallions, and I got my father’s towards mares.” Cut’s smile seemed a touch on the shy side despite the open admission of preference. Even that, half the time, was too much of a flirtation. “It’s… a private joke among family.”

“I understand.” Rosewater glanced at Silver and bobbed her head. “I’ll keep to my promise, Silver. Thank you so much. Can you check and see if Silk’s arrived with my dress yet?”

Silver hesitated, glancing between her and the door. “I didn’t see Silk, but Vine is here with a dress bag. She was waiting very nervously in the sitting room. I suppose she’s here for you?”

“Unless Petal also ordered a dress from Silk, I imagine so. Vine is staying behind this Gala.” Rosewater glanced at Cut. “When you leave, can you send her in? I have some things I need to talk to her about in private.”

“Of course.” Cut settled in and continued to tease and order her mane.

Rosewater settled in, feeling again like she was girding herself for battle.

Vine swallowed for what felt like the tenth time, and wished she’d thought to ask for a glass of water when the mare, she thought her name had been Roselyn, had asked her if she needed anything in a chill tone.

It had been easier to say no than to face the mare again. She was supposed to be spying on them, and she hadn’t even shown up to try the first thing. She’d made it to the top of the rise that led down to the Villa before she’d lost her nerve and rushed back home.

This was her first time actually making it to the Villa itself, and now that she was here…

She felt calmer. She’d made the trip once. Hip would cut her off tomorrow, giving her just enough time to move her latest horticulture to someplace safe where it wouldn’t die on the vine. Her bedroom, the kitchen sill, the front patio, and even the desk she’d moved in front of the east-facing window were covered with her projects. They would survive for a while without more light, but she wasn’t sure if she’d be able to work up the nerve to ask Seed, to tell him what her plan was.

The dress sitting on the lounging couch across from her invited her to talk to it, but she didn’t know what to say, and the possibility of ears listening even if she managed to figure out what she needed to do.

She could talk to Silk, but she had her own concerns with shadowing Rosewater directly, trying to sweet-talk her way into her confidences.

Both of their tasks were almost automatic failures. But they had to make an appearance of trying, or Roseate would retaliate immediately.

“Miss Rosethorn,” a soft male voice said. A Dammer. One of the Damme residents? Tremor, maybe? “Lady Rosewater will see you now.”

“Did she say anything?”

He shook his head. “Just that she expected her dress.” He tipped his head to her and left. Not even to escort her to the room.

She stared after the stallion, wondering if he would realize his mistake and come back, but as soon as the large front door to the villa clicked closed, the sound of pounding hooves announced he’d broken into a gallop.

Not Tremor, then. From his cutie mark, a mane and tail stylist.

“I suppose,” Vine told the mute dress, “that she must be down that hallway.”

The halls seemed to speak accusations to her as they moaned in the soft wind coming up from the cliffs. The villa was all but empty, it sounded like, for the Gala’s ancillary celebrations all over both cities, and only a few muted conversations behind closed doors told her that anyone was even in residence.

Not that she could root around in desks looking for evidence. Not that she wanted to. She wanted…

She had told Silk what she wanted often enough that a simple look was enough to make her sister sigh and nip her ear, then reassure her that wherever they ended up, they would end up there together.

She found Rosewater by following the mane stylist’s scent, strongest behind a door with a silver bangle with three ruby petals in the same pattern as Rosewater’s cutie mark. No other bangle dangled with it, though she knew the custom and knew that Rosewater had been making love with Dazzle semi-regularly from the rumors spilling out of the Villa from uncareful mouths.

“Come in, Vine,” Rosewater said as the door opened. “No need to tarry and worry.”

Rosewater, inside, sat with her back to the door, her eyes on Vine in the mirror, and an open canister of blush sitting on the counter, the light powder on the brush paler than Rosewater’s mane glittered as she shifted it back and forth. “Before I dress, I’d like your opinion. I’m intending to wear only a touch of makeup. Is this color suitable, do you think?”

Vine’s tongue clove to the top of her mouth, and she forced herself to step inside and settled the dress on Rosewater’s neat bed. Everything was neat. Organized. Tidy. Just like Vine liked it, even if there was a smidge of some sort on the window-sill and the pane just above it, as if somepony had backed against it and left a touch of oiled tail, or closed the window with their mouth.

Does she have an earth pony lover we don’t know about?

“Vine?” Rosewater followed her gaze, snorted, and sent a cloth to clean off the smudges. “Stars, dear, you truly are nervous tonight. Silk will be fine, I assure you. Mother wants her to get close to me at the gala, while I have other ideas. I’m sure I can distract mother from her plans long enough for Silk to effect an escape and get out of her notice.”

“Yes.” Vine’s mind finally caught up to the first question and was chewing through the rest of the words directed at her before she realized what Rosewater had said. “I-I know, she told me you… she…”

“You’ll be fine, too, Vine. Please, talk to Seed after the Gala. He can help.” Rosewater leaned forward, her eyes darting from her own face in the mirror to meet Vine’s eyes, then back again as she applied the lightest dusting she could manage on her cheeks. The glittering mica powder in the blush lightened it even further and gave the hairs on her cheeks a special glow. “Is this too much?”

“A touch,” Vine said, swallowing her nerves and stepping closer to Rosewater, studying the back of her neck and the spill of hair and ribbons that curled like pink and blue rapids down the length, not quite spilling down to bounce, but held in place as if in a stiff breeze. “You may want to shield against the wind or bring an umbrella to do that. It is somewhat gusty.”

“Of course it is,” Rosewater said with a sigh and a flick of her ear. “Thank you.”

“O-of course.” Spy. The accusation whispered in her ear as both imprecation and command. “I-I noticed Dazzle didn’t have a bangle on your door.”

“He does not. While we had fun, I’m afraid that our lives are moving in two different directions, Vine. We had a talk, well, we still need to finish that talk, but we’re moving on from each other.” She gave Vine a soft smile and bobbed her head. “Thank you for asking. Silk told me you had wished for us to have a romantic life together.”

“But he’s—”

“Kind, gentle, loving, he’s got quite the wit, and we get along well. Yes, I know, Vine. But…” Rosewater put the brush down on the vanity and screwed on the lid of the blush. It felt like she was making a statement with the motion, deliberate, slow, as if every turning of the lid tightened down further on her heart. “I’ll need to return this to Petal tomorrow and apologize for borrowing it. Would you help me get dressed, dear sister?”

“But you loved him!” Vine blurted. Why are you giving him up? Are you giving up to mother again? If Rosewater couldn’t stand up to Roseate, she might as well give in now. “Didn’t you?”

“More than I can express. But,” Rosewater said as silence spread across the room, the creeping pink light suffusing into the walls and over the window seeming to block out more than sound. “When one makes romance across the river, when that romance is so complicated that compromises must be made… I assure you, I did not break off our romance because of mother. I broke it off because I have been courting Collar in secret.”

“But… mother?” Vine asked, her jaw slack.

“By the time you would be able to whisper it to her, I’ll have shouted it at her, Vine. This is no more secret after tonight.” Rosewater bent and kissed her lightly on either cheek. “You are dear to me, Vine, and your heart is big enough for two cities. Please, when you do come here, talk to Dazzle. He will help you find your courage to do what must be done.”

Defy mother. It was what Rosewater was doing so blatantly tonight.

Vine swallowed back her fear and unbuttoned the dress cover. “I’ll try.”

The wind spilling off the sea brought warmth to the city, urging ponies to put away their scarves and winter blankets for another week, two, or three depending on how restless the winter was to come visit Merrie and Damme with its chill.

Only a few guests had arrived thus far. Older ponies from prominent families both Rose and Prim who wanted to settle in and find the best places to sit and watch the theatrics. Old enemies now united in… not quite common purpose.

Among them were the ponies that had participated in raids more than thirty years ago that sneered at Collar’s mother for her ‘soft’ stance on Merrie and letting Roseate ‘walk all over her.’ The same ones that hadn’t been able to bring a conclusion to the war despite their boasting now that their part in it was relegated to trying to guide the city’s youth along the same, tired ruts that they’d gone over and over and over for centuries without change.

Their fighting days were over, and they were content to glare at their opposites and swap horror and war stories that would sound more like swashbuckling tales of adventure than what they had actually been: abduction for ransom, espionage for blackmail. Spies rather than adventurers, raiders rather than a rallying army.

This gala, more than most, it was frustrating to listen to their stories as he greeted them at the door and sent one of his small cadre of guards off to guide them to the ballroom—more to ensure they didn’t try to break into one of the wings than to show them where it was.

But all of them paid deference to him, at least for tonight. After tonight, after what he hoped he had the nerve to do, he doubted very much that any one of them would consider him a ‘true’ Dammer. If they ever did before. They’d know, tonight, where his heart lay.

Off in the distance, he could make out the clots of ponies coming through the carefully prepared route, dotted with guards here and there to ensure that every Rose followed that route, and pegasi flying patrols overhead to ensure that the route was adhered to. Increased security against Rose treachery, even if treachery now meant rather more than a stern letter from Celestia.

Next to arrive were the carefully curated tradesponies there to offer a taste of Merrie to the guests of the Gala, many of them reviewed by Rosewater herself for duplicity. One name he noted was missing from the list was Rosie Night and family, though Rosewater had told him they were busy lately with a new foal, and Rosie Night, formerly Rosie Sweets, was busy helping her wife and husband care for their new foal.

Rose Petal and Rose Seed were among the first to arrive after the old battlewagons ready to set up for a fight that would never come.

“Seed, Petal,” Collar said, stepping away from the contingent of guards to offer a hoof personally to the vintner and florist. There were proprieties to follow, even if he could stretch them a little. “I’m glad you accepted our offer. I apologize that it’s a paltry exchange for the thanks you wish to give, but there are things holding my hoof back.”

“My dear friend Rosewater explained much of what you were tied down by, my lord,” Petal said, bowing her head and glancing over her shoulder at the crates of bottles of wine and the trio of wine casks and a folding tasting table along with all the other accoutrements of their trade. “Will… he be here tonight?”

He winked at them, only briefly, and smiled. “It was our wish to honor him as well, Rose Petal. He is here tonight, but whether he chooses to let himself be known is his choice. I invited him as a guest, rather than a guard.”

“Perfect,” Petal said, bowing her head. “Thank you, my lord. He deserves that honor. If you’ll excuse us…”

“Of course.” He waved at one of the guards in their best Dammeguard finery, blues and purples shining so even the cloth seemed to sparkle like chain mail, though none wore such heavy armor tonight. “Primmane Gilder will show you where we’d like you to set up.”

The guard eyed him warily, but only for a split second before he tapped a hoof to his peytral. “If you’ll follow me,” he said, turning and walking past.

He was going to pay for that. Primmane Braid, the current matron of the branch, and ornery widow, would likely accost him at some point tonight for setting her grandson to lead Roses instead of Prims of high station, but he hoped it wouldn’t bother Seed and Petal. He only had a limited contingent for escorts and the Dammers all knew where to go anyway. Only the Roses would truly need escort.

And the more troublesome Dammers.

Prim merchants followed, ready to set up in the side-rooms in the hall leading to the largely unused ballroom on the second floor in the north wing. Normally, it would be a place of parties, and often was in less busier seasons, but this past season had been especially busy and full of changes that Collar had needed to divert his attention to.

There would be no jockeying for position this year. Merchants from Merrie and Damme would be sharing space, and the few food vendors in the actual ballroom had been vetted and required to sign agreements on the amount and type of food they would bring to further reduce the infighting and increase the variety of food available.

For one night, Merriedamme would be a reality even if it was enforced and they were smiling uneasily at each other. They would be neighbors for one night only. He knew it would cause resentment on both sides for being forced to comingle, but they needed to, and he considered it, now, a shortsighted decision not to do this earlier.

He could only imagine the absolute travesty that would be the Winter Gala when Roseate made the entire process a mockery. Vendors in the middle of the courtyard, Prims forced to set up in tents out in the cold. She would take every opportunity to turn it into an insult to his city.

More of his door contingent peeled off and returned after guiding their Rose or Prim vendors to their assigned spaces, explaining that yes, they really meant it when they said places were assigned.

And in the meantime, greeting more of the sporadic clusters of Roses from minor Rosethorn and Roseroot branch families, and their Prim equivalents. Some he chatted with amiably enough, while waiting for a guard to return to escort them, even among the Roses, but for most, and most especially the Prims aligned against him, they ignored him until somepony came back.

Of the main Rosethorn line, he’d seen nothing, and his heart ached to see Rosewater before the gala started. To see her dress, and how she’d done her mane, and the look in her eyes when she saw the look in his. He was tempted to kiss her in front of whomever was there, but that might give away the ruse and give too much away.

It wasn’t for another ten minutes of small talk and quiet before he saw the party of three with a single Merrieguard escort—her right as the ruler of Merrie— accompanied by two Dammeguard from the bridge contingent at the Primrose. He recognized the shades of their coats and their gear as belonging to the ponies he’d assigned there specifically to escort Roseate.

Behind them a generous thirty yards, was Rosewater, an umbrella held in the direction the wind was blowing and holding her tail against her side with a magical latticework he could see from the steps.

Duty first. Then pleasure. He turned his attention back to the ponies Roseate had brought with her, mares both, and both daughters he recognized from previous galas. And two prior raids. Silk had been at the large one led by Rosewater half a year ago—Stars, has it only been half a year?—but escaped, and then again, hanging back and providing support during the even larger one two months ago. And escaped again.

Rose Crown, her glasses perched on her muzzle, blinked owlishly at him, then smiled. She’d been instrumental in the initial success of the second raid and had been the only reason that Rosewater and Silk had escaped the first.

“Fetch Note,” he whispered to his only remaining guard. “And Coat. I’ll need both shortly.”

The stallion swallowed, nodded, and dashed inside, his wings half open as he bounded down the hall.

“Roseate,” Collar said in a formal tone, leaving off her title or honorific. He was under no obligation to treat her with courtesy. “Welcome. I would show you in myself, but I am greeting everypony to arrive tonight.”

“Collar,” Roseate said, bowing her head, a little smirk at the corner of her mouth. Insult for insult. “You look well. I would like to introduce my daughters, Rose Crown and Silk Rose.”

“I’m aware of who they are,” Collar said stiffly. “I could hardly forget their presence at the battle that pushed the Gala so far out of course.” He wanted to ask her what had possessed her to pretend to want to double-deal with him, masquerading as Rosewater, but he kept it in, barely. “Crown, you are looking much better than the last time I saw you. It’s a pleasure to see you once more.”

Crown looked down, her ears flattening, but her lips stayed firmly pressed closed. After a moment, she raised her head, her smile coming into the glow of the steady unicorn lights decorating the front entrance as he heard steps behind him. “Thank you, my lord. I’m glad our meeting is not moderated by the bars of a cell this time. You were kind to me.”

“Gallantry and bravery in the face of the enemy is an honorable and admirable trait, Crown. I was glad to give you the kindness of the Gilded Cage instead of the cells and to visit you on occasion.” Collar let his gaze skitter to Roseate briefly. “The treatment of prisoners is paramount to the strictures of the treaty, and I have made sure that Glory’s treatment is no less comfortable than yours.”

Roseate made no flicker of emotion as she gazed back. “I thank you for taking care of her. I’m afraid that our latest endeavors have rather cost us much, and we have no free capital with which to negotiate her release at this time.”

Collar forced himself to smile. “I understand.” Collar extended a hoof to Silk even as Note pounded to a halt beside him, Coat there in the next breath. “We’ll make sure she’s well cared for and has no cause to complain to Firelight during his inspections. And… Silk. That is a lovely dress. I hear tell through the whispering birds that you made your sister’s as well?”

Silk raised her head to meet his eyes, but he also noted that she darted a look to her mother just before her defiant glower softened almost to contrition. Odd.

“I did. Is she here already? I really would like to see how the final fit came out.”

Roseate stiffened before Collar shook his head.

“She is not. I believe that’s her just behind you, crossing the courtyard.” Collar lifted his head to look over them. “Coat, Note, could you please accompany these lovely mares to the ballroom? I’m afraid I can’t leave my post until later.” Until Coat comes back at least.

Roseate’s lip curled into a sneer as she glanced over her shoulder. She’d only worn a simple gown of near crimson that floated above the steps in a cloud of her own magic. “Of course, my lord. Duty first.”

Sunrise swallowed and stared after the Roses. “Is Note going to be okay? We’re guarded against scents, not sound.”

“Note knows her skills,” Collar said with a confidence he didn’t feel. Crown might not want to fight in the war, but she was more than capable, and with a rare talent for her family line. For any pony, in truth. He wasn’t sure how she’d stand up to Note as, to his knowledge, they had never clashed openly. “He’s nearly a match for her,” he added confidently.

Sunrise watched Rosewater’s progress. “Is that Platinum behind her?”

“Aye.” Collar frowned and glanced beyond them, cocking his head. “Who has she brought with her? I don’t recall her saying that she’d have guests.” Not that I didn’t forbid it. “I asked her to wait at the Rosewine bridge to provide a proper escort. I would have sent you, and perhaps should have, but I need a courier here just in case.”

Just behind the unknown pair of mares, he made out Firelight Spark, resplendent in his golden and silver coat of arms, the sun crest bright on breast and shoulder declaring him a Knight of the Sun. Beside him, he recognized the rather plain looking Vellum in a surprisingly light gown. He hadn’t thought the mousey clerk would have had one. It wasn’t anything special like Rosewater’s appeared to be, but it both fit and complimented her coat and wing pattern.

On her other side, the white-coated Wandering Star with the purple nebula around her horn pranced a few steps ahead, laughed, and fell back to walk beside the mare. He hadn’t seen much of the Merrie Knight, but she wasn’t the one that normally dealt with Rosewater or with the Prim Palace. Her area of responsibility was normally Roseate, but she was also not the leader of the Treaty Expeditionary Force. Firelight Spark was.

Rosewater heard the laughter, paused in her advance and set a quarter-dome shield up against the wind, the surface of it wavering and keeping him from seeing her gown in its entirety. He had an impression of pink and blue, both diaphanous and almost transparent, transforming them into a seeming cloud as the wind still skirled around the edges of her barrier.

Come, please, my love. This is torture, waiting.

She waited for the two mares, who stayed with her while she expanded the dome, while Firelight caught up to them and said something that made her throw her head back and laugh.

The group continued on, and it made his heart glad to see that she had an extra bounce in her step. She had friends, and even seemed to count Firelight as one. Which wasn’t terribly surprising to him, all things considered. She’d been doing what Celestia had intended for the treaty to be for two months, and now… tonight, they would take the first steps towards bringing that treaty to a close.

“Oh… oh, stars,” Sunrise whispered, her voice rising as she glanced over to Collar. “Stars, sir. She dressed up like that for you?”

“For us. For all of us,” he said softly. He glanced aside at Primmane Glider, recently arrived from escorting his parents and grandparents to the ballroom. “Glider, I’ll be assigning you to the mystery pair of mares. Sunrise, please escort the Knights.”

“Aye, sir,” they chorused.

“And… the Lady Rosewater?” Glider asked.

“As my opposite, it’s my duty to escort her to the ballroom. I’ll be leaving Coat in charge in the meantime. When he gets back.” Collar glanced behind him and tried to will his friend to ditch Roseate and Silk and get back here. No sign of him came, of course. Roseate would monopolize his time as much as possible and try to make a mess of things.

She seemed incapable of leaving anything be. Except when it suited her.

“Lord Collar,” Firelight said, reaching the top of the stairs first. “It’s a delight to see you, and in your Dammeguard finest. I don’t believe I’ve ever seen you quite so well dressed, even at other Galas.”

“Indeed, one might almost think he was getting married,” Wandering Star said, laughing and stepping forward to offer her hoof. “It’s a pleasure to see you again, my lord. It feels like it’s been most of a year.”

Collar forced his smile to stay in place and glanced at Firelight, who only smiled all the broader and winked.

“I thought it was appropriate dress for the occasion,” Collar said, waving off the implication. “Rosewater is our special guest for this Gala.”

On cue, she stepped up beside the two knights and offered her hoof.

He stopped mid acceptance to stare. She’d come in behind the two knights and ahead of the scribe and mares, familiar looking mares now that he could make out their faces.

But she… Rosewater was radiant. Her dress was a blended blue and radiant pink silk, transparent in areas and fading to opaque in waves along body, never fully, but enough so that as she moved, the shades of pink and blue blended together and rippled like a pond being blown about by winds in the early morning light, her white coat accentuating the brightness of the fabric and fading into a braided pink and blue ribbon around her neck that ended in a bow fashioned like a rose made of silk over her heart mark, hiding it, inviting him to sniff and see if it smelled as beautiful as it looked.

But as stunning as her dress was, the crown was moreso. He’d caught it only as a sparkle in the distance but up close, it was clear it wasn’t the crown that was her right as heiress of Merrie, the simple golden circlet with the Rose of the city in ruby or the larger, gaudy one Roseate had worn.

“Rosewater,” Collar breathed. “Stars.” He took a step forward before he knew his body was acting, stopped himself, and took her hoof, then bent to kiss her lightly on each cheek. “Welcome, my lady. You look radiant.”

“As do you.” Her eyes flicked up to his crownless head. “Though you seem to be missing a piece.”

“I’m afraid it fell when I was preparing and a sapphire popped out of the setting, and one of our craftsmares is working on it,” he said, the lie smooth on his tongue. It was with Cloudy, the ring just as hers was, having been replaced already. “It should be ready by the end of the night.”

The laughter in her eyes was a relief to see. “Then I shall hope it’s not before the end of the night. I may have to give mine to safe keeping if we’re to be equals, my lord.”

He would have been happy to stand there all night talking with her, but Glider’s restless shuffling to the side told him he needed to move things along. “Once Coat returns, I’ll escort you myself my lady. He’s currently escorting your mother.”

Her wince spoke for him as well.

“Sunrise, please see the knights and their scribe to the ballroom.”

“Yes, my lord,” Sunrise said, bowing her head and stepping to the side as Rosewater made way for them, the shuffling of hooves the only sound above the wind for several seconds before they disappeared.

“My lord,” Rosewater said, bowing. “It’s my pleasure to reintroduce you to Golden Glow and Fervent Wish. They have been our guests at the Garden for these last several weeks, and have been learning both the culture and deciding, it seems, whether or not they’d like to make a permanent home here.”

“My lord,” they said in unison, bowing to him. “I hope it’s not an issue. Lady Rosewater invited us as her guests as the Heiress.”

Rosewater’s eyes, when he turned back to her, shone with amusement. “They’ve been very observant and mindful of our ways and I wished to repay some of the attention by inviting them to an event they likely have only heard about.”

“We’re both happy to be her guests and overjoyed to be here,” Fervent said in a rushing voice, prancing up to offer her hoof to Collar. “We’ve been watching Merrie and Damme from afar, so it’s exciting to be able to attend the pivotal event that the entire treaty centers around.”

Collar raised her hoof and kissed the back. “And it’s a pleasure to have you here. Primfeather Glider will see you to the ballroom. Please. Make yourselves comfortable and acquainted with the foods of both of our cities.”

“Aye, sir. Ladies, please follow me,” Glider said, bowing to them and stepping back through the gate to the gala, guiding them along.

That left Collar alone with Rosewater, save for Platinum, who pulled out a familiar looking diary and made two entries in it.

“To your hooves, my lord,” Platinum said. “I must be back to my post.”

“Thank you, Platinum. Very much,” Rosewater said, turning to give the mare a light touch on her shoulder. “I wish you and Sunrise the best in the coming days.”

“I—” Platinum’s cheeks turned crimson briefly, then she bowed. “Thank you, my lady. Enjoy the night.” She put away her declaration journal, smiled, and bobbed her head. “Stars willing, I won’t be late for the closing event.”

“Stars willing,” Rosewater said, patting her on the shoulder briefly. “You’ll be there.”

Leaving Collar alone on the front gate, and only the guests already in the palace to witness them as Collar moved down a step, and she moved up one.

“You’re making a show of where you’re leaning,” Collar murmured, brushing his lips against her cheek more slowly and intimately than a Merrie-style greeting dictated. “Did anypony give you any fuss?”

Her lips on his cheeks, returning the greeting before she answered, were softer, lingered longer, and left an ache in his heart when she backed down one step. “No. Looks, but no fuss. That won’t last once ponies get a good look at the ornamentation.”

“And the ring?”

“Replaceable,” Rosewater said with a smile and a wink. “Did you have any trouble on your end?”

“None. I… hope you like…” He glanced past her to see another group of Merrie nobility, none of whom he recognized, arriving with Dammeguard bridge escorts. “Stars, where is Coat?”

“I am pleased to wait,” Rosewater murmured, glancing around before leaning forward to nip his chin. “I tried to arrive later for a reason, rather than first, and it wasn’t to avoid Roseate’s ire. It was to spend more time with you while you weren’t distracted by everypony else.”

“In public.” The idea of spending the time standing and talking to her, dressed as if they were already a couple, greeting the stragglers coming up the way, the latecomers and irate ponies roped into the Gala by dint of their status or protesting the lateness of the Autumnal Gala. “Come up here with me, love,” he said softly, stepping to the side and glancing down the long hall towards the ballroom. Still no sign of Coat.

“Who did you send him with?”

“Roseate.”

“Then he’ll be gone until she’s done pestering him or she gets bored of pestering him.” Rosewater gave him a small, apologetic smile. “I’ll need to apologize to him later.”

“He understands she’s not you.”

“I know, but…”

“You’re not responsible for her actions, either. Now stand there and help me look pretty to these ponies.”

“Help you look pretty?” Rosewater said with a laugh, then glanced up, sighed, and muttered. “Oh, this timing was deliberate.”

Collar followed her gaze to a flight of three pegasi, two in formal civilian garb, and the latter in Dammegaurd finery. Even from the ground, they were clearly Primfeathers, and swooped in for a smooth landing in a somewhat ragged formation, their wings tucking in gracefully, but not with the same kind of precision he expected on drills from his Dammeguard.

“It was,” Collar said softly, standing straighter. “Just follow my lead.”

He took a step forward, mouth open for a greeting, and the matron and patron Primfeather swept past without a word and only a glower for the familiar place Rosewater had at his side.

“I’m sorry for them, Lord Collar,” Stride said as he paused to straighten his neckwear, then flushed as Collar quickly redid the bowtie. “Thank you, sir. I’ve always found them fiddly.” He gave Rosewater a sidelong look. “My lady.”

Rosewater bowed her head gravely as though she were receiving a benediction. “Sir Dammeguad,” she said softly. “Thank you for the greeting.”

“Go on, young buck. And mind the Roses.” Collar smiled at him, tipping his head to Rosewater. “They are friendly tonight, understand, so do try to make acquaintances with some of them. This war won’t last forever.”

When he was gone, his wings fluttering nervously, Rosewater nipped his neck. “Follow your lead,” she said, her tone light, her eyes dancing. “I can absolutely stand here.”

“Shush. I should have guessed they’d ignore me.” He laughed and nipped her neck right back. “You look beautiful tonight, and your mane… stars. I thought the ribbons in your mane were stunning on you. What did you do?”

Rosewater’s cheeks actually flushed, and she ducked her head briefly, smiling more brightly than ever. “I had some help from a new friend. The twin of the pony you’re waiting to escort me into the gala.”

“Oh.” Collar’s mind flashed to Cut, summarizing what he did in an instant of thought, connected the two items, and blinked. “Oh! Stars, he did your mane today?”

“And a week ago. He actually did the initial trim then.” She tapped a hoof against his. “I’m sure it was somewhere in your reports on my movements. And probably in the rumor mill stirrings.”

“You overestimate the speed at which rumors grow into intelligence,” Collar said with a huff, fighting to hide the smile. “I did hear about it from Coat, though. And no, I didn’t demote him. I’m glad he took the chance, honestly, even if I wouldn’t have.”

“You wouldn’t have—” Rosewater straightened and glanced over his back into the hall. “Coat approaches. He got free.”

“I wouldn’t have, because my goal would have been to keep you safe. That would have been the wrong goal, too. Keeping you ‘safe’ is putting you in a room like Rosemary.” Collar glanced down the hall, then at the almost empty courtyard, and kissed her lightly on the muzzle. It felt good to show affection, even if nopony else was there to see it. “I want more than that for you. Stars. I need more for you.”

“I understand the impulse,” Rosewater said gently, her cheeks flushed, her eyes somber. “I do. And thank you for understanding that you must rein in the want to protect.”

Coat announced himself with a cough before Collar could reply. “I hope, my lord and lady, that I am not interrupting anything?”

“Nay, but you are just in time to take over my post until the gate closes,” Collar said, giving his cousin a smile. “Thence to ‘off duty’ with your husband.”

“Whom is currently likely trying to decide whether to strangle me or kiss me. Depending on Rosemary’s mood.” Coat smiled and bobbed his head. “‘Tis only a few more minutes before the gate closes and the gala begins, and thus I will have plenty of time to devise a plan to avoid the noose.”

Collar stepped into the gateway and offered a hoof to her. “My lady, the gala awaits.”

Author's Note

The start of the Gala is here, all the actors are in place... let the fun begin.