Collar sipped his wine as he and Rosewater walked slowly towards the raised platform where the musicians were just starting to sort out their instruments and sheet music and surveyed the landscape around him. Merriers and Dammers in every manner of fanciful dress from their uniforms of service to elegant suits and gowns that showed off or hid lines they wanted ponies to see or not see.

A dozen conversations on either side of the room held sway over the attention of the ballroom, all of them no doubt centered on the unusual entrance and what, he hoped, would be an even more unusual and eventful opening.

It would not be Lace who gave the beneficence, nor himself alone. As his guest, Rosewater had the right to make a speech, and she had one she said, written over the last few days, with her dreams for the future. Absent marriage, but towards Merriedamme.

“Are you ready?” Lace asked, sounding excited or nervous as he reached the steps a breath ahead of Rosewater. “Both of you?”

“I am,” Collar said.

“As am I,” Rosewater said, pulling out a tiny scroll from a fold of the dress around her neck. “I didn’t have time to memorize the speech, and I kept hemming and hawing over the wording.”

“It’s an important one,” Lace offered with a small smile. “I would expect no less from the first opening speech given by the ‘enemy.’”

Rosewater swallowed and bobbed her head. “I know. I went for unity, togetherness, and love conquering hate.”

Stars, you do have to tempt me with openings, don’t you?

Lace smiled brightly. “Then, we’re ready. Join me.”

As desperately as Collar wanted Rosewater to stand next to him, it was important that she be at Lace’s side as well, so he pushed aside his foalish desires and stood next to his mother, standing tall and proud as she took a single step forward and raised her voice.

“Good evening to one and all, guests, vendors, and foreign dignitaries.” Lace’s voice boomed out with the help of a simple spell, filling the hall with her words and drawing every eye and halting all but the most resilient of conversation. “Tonight is a special Gala, as some of you have no doubt already seen with your own eyes. But it’s even more than you know. Tonight, for the first time since I started hosting the Treaty Gala nigh thirty-six years ago, I will not be giving the opening speech, nor the announcements, nor the welcome. Rather, I will be letting my son and his guest, the Lady Rosewater Rosethorn, Heiress of Merrie, speak the opening words.”

Collar stepped up, pulled out a scroll from his uniform, closed his eyes as Lace stepped back and called up his own spell. “Thank you, mother. I can hear the mutterings from here, and yes, Rosewater has something of her own to say.”

He glanced at his scroll, unfurled it and skimmed over it, and took a deep breath, then tucked it away.

“As you can tell, I had something prepared. A formal welcome to all of you here to the Autumn Gala hosted by Damme. Rather, I want to speak to you all as individuals, not as a group. All of you, each and every one of you right now wondering why I invited Rosewater not only as a personal guest, but to speak at the opening, need to understand what I have come to understand.”

He stepped closer to Rosewater and lifted her hoof from the stage, cradling her ankle across his cannon, earning him a nervous smile from her and an increase in the muttering from both sides of the ballroom as ponies drew in closer to watch the spectacle about to unfold.

All but Stride, trying to hide in the back, his ears flat and likely unable to see all of what was going on through the crowd.

“We’re not two peoples divided by a hundred feet of river. We’re one people divided by ideology. Rosewater is no different from me in what she wants out of life, and I doubt she’s any different from any of you listening to me right now.” Collar raised her foreleg higher, resisting the urge to kiss her ankle. “Safety for our families. Freedom to come and go as we please, with the peace of mind in knowing that no matter which market we decide to shop today, we can greet our fellows as neighbors. I want that. I had a taste of that not more than a month ago at the Commoner’s Gala held at the Garden of Love, the representatives of which you can find on the eastern side of the ballroom, serving the wine they’re known for.

“I want more of that freedom to laugh, joke, and get to know my fellows across the river without wondering if they secretly despise me for the city I represent.”

To his surprise, Rosewater raised her hoof higher still and touched the neckline of her dress. “I want the same,” she called out, using his spell and leaning closer to him. “In the past two months I have come to love Damme for its beauty, its uniquely fragrant streets, and the ponies that I see often enough to almost know as I come to and from the palace. How many times I wished I could sit down at a cafe and have a light breakfast before starting the day’s business, I can’t even count. But I thank you, all of you, for being who you are, for making that plump smelling morning spiced bread and cream cheese. Someday, I want to be able to take that moment and…”

Her voice, earnest and powerful, had grown tighter and tighter throughout the impassioned claim of desire for such a simple thing, and she fell back at Lace’s touch to her flank to sweep away tears before they could touch her makeup.

Collar let the way her plea had touched his heart leak into his voice as he went on. “I want that for myself, too. The simple things. Not the grand gestures and the signings of treaties and the end of the war. I want what comes after. I want to live free of the fear, to wander a street at night and feel safe in the cool breeze and quiet night sounds and not fear that it may be a raider come to challenge me. I know all of you, each of you individually, want that, too. Those of you in Damme have complained to me often enough that I know you feel the same way I do, though not in the same words.”

“Well said,” Lace murmured gently as she led Rosewater back to the fore. “Don’t forget the announcements.”

“Stars…” Collar muttered, pulling the scroll back out and unfurling it to where he’d written the announcements down. “And here I said I didn’t need it,” he told the crowd.

A few chuckles came up from the gathering, but the icy glare of Roseate remained ever steady, fixed either upon him or on her daughter. Hate boiled from that mare so that he could almost see it distorting the air around her like an infernal heat rising from her body.

The Primfeathers, less hateful, seemed distrustful of the emotional display.

“One of the things we wanted to say,” Collar said as he read over the short list of announcements, “was that tonight is partly in honor of a disaster averted. I’m sure the word has gotten around by now that a foal fell in the river during the Commoner’s Gala. Thankfully,” Collar said as a few more murmurs from the terminally uninformed as they queried their neighbors, “disaster was averted by one of our own. A pegasi who asked to remain nameless swooped in after combined efforts of unicorns failed to reach the foal. Swift waters carried Raindrop Dancer far along in the moments immediately after, and out of the reach of those on the bridge.

“But our brave Dammeguard saw at the same moment and swooped in to rescue him in a show of bravery we’ve not seen in many years. The rains of the previous week had swelled the river to dangerous levels and rapidity, but it was also that same level of water that saved Dancer from a more certain doom. The stars were with us.”

“And I wanted to add,” Rosewater said into his spell before Collar could move onto the rest, “that the entirety of the Garden of Love owes this hero a great debt that we cannot repay so easily as giving thanks. I will respect your wish for anonymity, but please, if you’re here please consider talking to Petal and Seed. They want very much to start to repay that debt, and asked that I advocate for them.”

“You’ve done well,” Collar said, nudging her shoulder. “In other announcements, we’re pleased to announce that our crop yields are mostly in. The ones that are left outstanding are the late-harvest crops that only come in after the first freeze. We’re also grateful to Merrie for being prompt with our requests for yield counts so we can ensure all of our ponies in both cities are able to feed themselves through the winter.”

Roseate’s glare sharpened into a snarl, then softened as ponies around her gave cheers. It was no small accomplishment to not need to request food from the richer croplands to the south.

“You may also notice, or have already noticed, that the deerkin tribes have begun their migration, and I would ask all of you to remind your friends and neighbors not to bother them. Their migratory path is protected by Princess Celestia herself. And, finally, the number of bandit raids we’ve had to repel has dropped to an all-time low this year thanks in part to more widespread patrolling by the Equestrian military.”

Collar rolled up his scroll and turned to Rosewater. “And now, with a more interesting welcoming speech to give, Rosewater.”

Rosewater tried her best not to look at her mother as she stepped forward and unfurled the scroll with its neat rows of words, and swallowed, then pushed back the fear and the doubt.

“Welcome,” Rosewater said through her own amplification spell, “I know I’m not the one you expect to give the traditional welcoming speech, but Collar and Lace were kind enough to ask me, in the name of unity and togetherness, to speak and welcome you all to this, the two hundred and forty-third Autumnal Gala, even if it is closer to winter than it is to summer this year.”

She unfurled the scroll a little more and scanned the crowd. More ponies were watching her than she expected, and they were quietly attentive rather than whispering amongst each other, but that was all she could say about their expressions in a uniformly positive light.

The Damme side was almost universally suspicious, save for a few whose expressions seemed genuinely intrigued, and of the Merriers, there were too many who were taking Roseate’s mood for their cue. Not a majority, but enough that it would be hard to avoid hostility from her own ponies hoping to gain the Baroness’s favor.

“I had a dream for tonight. Not a sleeping one, but a waking dream that I shared with my hosts some weeks ago, and I would share it with all of you in the hopes that you won’t see it as a hollow plea. A dream of a city united, of Merrie and Damme no longer separated in name, but whole and prosperous and peaceful. A city where my daughter, my precious Rosemary, can dance and be free in the streets and not be obligated to participate in a pointless war.”

Collar gasped beside her, and she watched the ripple of reaction surge through the crowd as whispers rose and fell. Her mother seemed more shocked than the rest, her eyes flashing first to shock, and then to fury.

Yes. I knew. I took it from you before you could take it from me.

Rosewater smiled and let the love she had for Rosemary fill her from hooves to ears as she continued. “When I was younger, smaller, my mother, the mother who raised me, Carnation Rosethorn, took me often to Damme to visit the merchants and the stalls, to sample the candies and see the ponies. They’re little more than memories now, but I cherish them all the same, and I’m incredibly grateful that when I shared them with Cloudy Rosewing while we were waiting for a meeting, that she bought some for me for my very next visit. I have been… the stars blessed me with ponies that would see me and not my past.”

She took a shuddering breath and calmed herself. “That’s the dream I have. For mothers and fathers, daughters and sons to feel free to roam either city, to feel safe when the Merrieguard or the Dammeguard pass by rather than nervous and unsettled. I want our cities to be one, and I want tonight to be a preview of what we can all do together to further that goal.

“Towards that end, I want you to feel free to approach us. Lace, Dapper, Collar, and myself, and ask us about what we dream of for the future of the city we all call home.” Rosewater rolled up her scroll and tucked it back into place. “I want to see, tonight, Merrie and Damme mingling, dancing, laughing and talking. So many of you have things in common with your peers across the river, but you won’t ever know unless you try to bridge that gap. Please, in the spirit that the treaty was proposed, find common ground, find a way to talk to the other side. Find a way past the mindless hate and dislike. Find a way, like I have—” Rosewater teased Collar’s foreleg up with hers and cradled his ankle as he had. “—to make bonds with your counterparts. I promise you, together as one city, we can overcome anything.”

Cheers came from the back, and Rosewater startled to see Seed and Petal cheering for her from their stand.

A few other ponies from Merrie and Damme both stomped their hooves in appreciation. Perhaps not genuine, but there were a few faces that seemed to genuinely want to believe her words, as much as they distrusted her, personally.

She made note of them, and to approach them later, but the rest of them were already talking, but not across river lines, but amongst their little groups as she stood there, waiting for some sign to let go of Collar’s hoof, to stop being a sign that they could overcome their barriers.

The one pony she didn’t look at was Roseate, but her mother’s glare felt like a pressure on her coat, a blade trying to find purchase.

“A wonderful speech. But telling everypony about Rosemary?” Collar whispered against her cheek. It was almost a kiss.

“She knew,” Rosewater whispered back and finally lowered her hoof. “I had to take it from her before she could use it against me. I’m only grateful she waited so long.”

Collar’s eyes found Roseate at the same time Rosewater did, and the mare was staring murder at the two of them, her ears quivering upright, the tendons in her neck standing out showing just how tightly her jaw was clenched.

“That’s probably for the best, then.” Collar frowned down at Roseate, then smirked and pressed his cheek against Rosewater’s for a bare second before he turned away from the crowd. “Mother will probably want to talk to you before we break to socialize.”

Rosewater took one last look over the crowd and found her sister’s eyes somewhere to the back, Silk’s eyes a mix of fear and pride in the bare instant they met before they both looked away.

Stay safe tonight, dear sister.

“Let’s have a talk, then.”

It had been something of a gamble expressing her desire to accompany her mother. Roseate was allowed no more than two nobles to accompany her, and they were always her daughters. Rose Crown the pre-eminent researcher was a given now that Glory was in custody. The intelligence the mousey mare brought back from Damme on each visit had usually proven to be at least marginally useful.

Silk… had her allure. It was useful on the stalk, but hardly useful in the middle of a collection of ponies that were wary of her. Oh, she might get looks, but looks weren’t useful.

Since Rosewater would be attending, for a long time it had appeared that Roseate would have to decide between her least favorite daughter and the most valuable intelligence gathering resource the family still had completely within its control.

When Rosewater had announced to Roseate that she would be going independently of the family and as the personal guest of Collar, and since none of Roseate’s other daughters particularly wanted to go to a Prim dominant event…

All it had truly taken was an expressed desire to see if she could use her dressmaking skills to draw the eye and attention of a Dammer with a little too much to drink in a place where she knew the word would get back to Roseate through little Moon, thence to Rosary, and from Rosary to Roseate.

The second eldest of them had her own plans and plots separate from Roseate’s, but for the moment their plans were aligned: keep Rosewater out of power, so letting slip that she dreamed of attracting the attention of a powerful Prim would get distorted along the way.

After that speech, she wasn’t sure if that had been the brightest of ideas. Ponies were talking about it, and talking about Rosewater, no matter where in the ballroom she went, she heard her sister’s name on the air, and not always in a derogatory way, even from the Dammers.

The Merriers were subdued whenever Roseate came by, but once it became apparent that speaking about Rosewater in positive and hopeful terms upset the baroness enough to avoid the social group, it had spread. Whether that was by design on Rosewater’s part or merely the Dammers taking up yet another weapon, she had no idea. Either way, the results were at the very least interesting to watch.

“Stop dawdling,” Roseate snapped. “Go mingle and try to undo the damage your sister has done. You’re making us look bad.”

You’re making us look bad. Silk left the frustration unsaid and bowed her head instead. “Yes, mother,” Silk murmured.

“Neck straight,” Roseate growled under her breath. “You look like a supplicant.”

I’m not?

She wished, for the hundredth time that night, that she and Vine were alone again, nestled in close, reading, letting their closeness be enough. It was how they spent their nights of late, afraid to look for a lover to share, afraid to entangle more of their loves in their dangerous plots, lest their eventual downfall splatter onto them.

She straightened her neck until she was the vision of haughtiness that her mother was projecting. Half-lidded eyes, making the room appear darker and more menacing than it was. For a moment, at least, she kept that mien until she slipped out of her mother’s earshot before she let the real state of her mind show.

Nervous, hopeful, and studying every cut of dress and suit that she passed by on her search to find a place and try to imitate her sister’s social success.

Silk kept one eye on Rosewater as her eldest sister drifted from clump to clump of nervous Dammers, her mere presence enough to send a few of the group making hasty excuses to depart. But the mare always seemed to find one pony she could find some common ground with it seemed, and talked them up briefly before offering her hoof and making some excuse to depart and go startle more of the flock that shifted hither and thither at seemingly the whim of the mare.

They were always careful not to appear too forward in their obvious avoidance, and thus Rosewater always caught up to them, and the little snatches of conversation Silk was able to pull out of the conversational threads as she tried her best to join this or that social group discreetly gave her hope that the dream her sister had held up and shared with all of them wasn’t quite so far fetched as Roseate wanted them all to believe.

Still, she had not near the success Rosewater had, nor the presence, and when she tried to introduce herself to mares or stallions by complimenting their dresses, the conversation ended there, at the compliment and the thanks, and the Dammer’s closed ranks again, talking about upstart Rosethorns talking about too much above their knowing and taking too much for themselves.

After the fifth attempt, she couldn’t hide her exasperation anymore, but one glare from her mother froze her in her tracks before she could turn and retreat and maintain some of her dignity. She jerked around and snapped her eyes shut to stop the flow of tears before they could start, instead aiming for meditative calm.

Vine, please, please be having a better night.

“Silk Rose,” a sonorous male voice said from behind her, too familiar, and too gentle. “I couldn’t help but notice that you are without anypony to talk to. Perhaps…” A gentle touch of silver on her cheek, barely there, drew her to open her eyes and face Prim Collar. “I could be of some assistance? I am the host, after all.”

“You?” She asked, the words slipping out as she stared up at him. He was… handsome. Gorgeous up close. It was easy to see why Rosewater would be attracted to him. But it was his eyes, unjudging if a touch wary. Understanding and gentle. “Given that speech, I thought you and your mother were the hosts.”

“You misunderstand our arrangements, my dear,” Collar said, falling in beside her and offering a hoof to her. “I am the host, yes, but so is she. It’s a strange trial this year, as she said in her speech. Hope for the future, and the hope that love can make ways through the heart.”

“And your hope?” Silk asked breathlessly, taking the hoof and trying not to feel the surge of gratitude welling up in her breast for him simply talking to her when nopony else would.

Collar glanced around, then bent and kissed her ankle. “My hope is that I will get to show my love tonight.”

He said it so quietly she almost didn’t catch it over the murmuring around them that rose at his show of old-style courtesy between equals of opposite gender.

Stars, you are in love with her. I wasn’t imagining it.

“I-it is,” Silk said, prying her tongue from the roof of her mouth so she wouldn’t blurt out what she wanted to say. “Mother is going to—” Silk stopped and froze, starting a look around and trying to locate her mother, but couldn’t find her. She must have been on the other side of Collar.

“Rest easy,” Collar said, stopping with her, his horn gleaming as a shimmering dome of translucent silver covered them, blocking off the sound of the gala. “She won’t hear it from my lips. I know what kind of mare she is.”

You really don’t. Silk smiled instead and bobbed her head. “Thank you. It’s…”

“Difficult being your mother’s daughter,” he said, gesturing with his foreleg and hers that she should continue. “Rosewater tells me you are a dress-maker by trade. That you made her dress. It is impressive, and you should be proud of it.”

“She tells me nothing about you,” Silk said, testing the waters carefully ahead of her. “During our last fitting…” She confided in me again. “She was distracted. I imagine, given your terse negotiations, she was worried about how she would be received. I was surprised you and she came in together.”

“I’ll let you in on a secret. We planned it.”

Silk snorted a laugh, then let it out full bore. “You don’t say? You mean you didn’t just happen to both have speeches prepared?”

Collar chuckled and nodded towards a cluster of ponies lingering near one of the balconies and dropped his shield. “Let me introduce you to Prim Pleat. She owns Pleated Perfection, and mares and stallions alike come to Damme to have dresses and suits made for them. I know she would be fascinated to talk shop with you. But only shop. She’s very married.”

Warning given. Silk nodded and swallowed. “I’ve followed her work, my lord. She is talented. Very much so. I would love to compare techniques with her.” It wasn’t a lie. She raised her head high and looked up to him. “You didn’t have to rescue me.”

“Like a certain guard, I found I could not let a pony flounder in the river that separates us, Silk.” He smiled and flicked his ears once before he dropped the aural shield. “Prim Pleat,” he called, halting the group in place before they could take another step away from them. “Please, a moment of your time, my good seamspony.”

“M-my lord.” The mare whom the group shrank away from was somewhat plump, but it seemed from a pregnancy and not from weight. Her cheeks and neck were slim and only a hint of puffiness around the eyes suggested she was having issues with water retention rather than weight. “You catch me off guard, we were—” She broke off, looking around at the sudden retreat of what had been a close cadre not seconds before.

“I would like you to meet Silk Rose, Pleat. I believe both of you are only aware of each other’s reputations.” Collar raised the hoof holding Silk’s. “Silk Rose is more than a scion of Rosethorn. She’s a seamspony as well.”

“N-not a-as—” Silk stammered, then halted and cleared her throat. “I apologize. Lord Collar rather caught me off guard as well. I own the Silk and Scarlet Rose Boutique. It was a joint venture with my mentor, Scarlet Rose.”

“Ah, he was a true artist,” Pleat said with a sigh and a softening of her mien. “I understand that you and he were quite close for mentor and apprentice.”

“W-we were. He was almost a father to me, my lady.”

“Then you have my condolences for his loss. All of Merrie and Damme lost a true master of needle and thread.” She flicked a look at Collar, then away towards her departed social circle. “Was there a reason you wished to speak with me, my lord?”

“There is. I’ve learned a great deal about Silk Rose over the past few months through her sisters Glory and Rosewater. She’s not the mare you’re thinking of.” Collar raised a hoof and brushed Silk’s dress. “She’s a designer and seamstress, and I do hate to see a pony in distress when she is not the one who deserves the distress.”

Pleat glanced over Silk’s dress once, then stopped and leaned closer. “No stitches in the brocade at the breast?” She leaned closer still and glanced up. “May I? It looks like stitching, but…”

“You may,” Silk said, feeling a thrill up her spine and a flush of joy. Only another master of the craft would have noticed the fine detail in the cloth she’d used to cover her heart mark, letting it show through but only when it was darker. Shimmersilk was hard to work with, and harder still to make it accept a dye and retain its prismatic sheen, but Crimson had learned the skill and passed it to her. Mostly.

“I thought the talent had died with Crimson,” Pleat said after a long time covering and uncovering the panel. “I see now that it did not. You have a fine skill with the needle, but I’m not sure of the meaning of the pattern.”

“It’s an abstract meaning.” Silk tugged lightly at the panel of brocaded silk covering her breast like a piece of armor, subtle in color to almost match her coat, the bits that Pleat had noticed thick around the center in a heart shape made up of smaller abstracted shapes that, to her, called to mind Vine’s smile through the flow of fabric. “It’s hard to explain the meaning without going into personal feelings. But it is stitching, with a shimmersilk dyed to mask the color of my heart in light. And reveal it in shadow.”

“Your heart,” Collar murmured, absently glancing to the side where Rosewater was engaging with what looked like a merchant and his cadre. “Did you do anything similar for Rosewater?”

Stars, you’re lost to her, aren’t you? Instead, she flitted her tail against his hind leg and grinned. “I suppose you’ll have to pay close attention, my lord, if you wish to find out.”

Collar laughed. “I suppose I will have to, won’t I? She asked me to come to your rescue, in fact.” He glanced her way again, and this time Silk caught her sister raising her head to look towards the laughter, a smile and a blush in her cheeks.

Stars, you’re both lost to each other.

Pleat, following the exchange, and the looks, seemed to come to the same conclusion. “Leave her to me, my lord. I have some ponies that I can introduce her to in the textile shipping world that managed to make it here.” She flitted her tail and shifted herself. “I do believe that your… guest requires your attention.”

“Does she?” Collar glanced at Rosewater again, and Silk followed his gaze to find her sister giving the three ponies she’d been talking with farewells, and cordial ones that lingered with individual attention to each one. “I admit, I was worried when she asked to roam on her own.”

“I believe, my lord,” Silk said, touching his foreleg, “that she wants to show ponies who she is on her own. It’s what I wanted, but I’ve not the weekly and more often familiarity with your ponies that she does. Give her a little time to be herself.”

“And you?” Collar asked, flattening his ears.

“I need a little help. Needed.” She glanced at Pleat, who was watching the interplay with clear interest and a shrewd understanding lurking. “Thank you. And, for what it’s worth, I apologize for the roles I’ve played in previous attacks.”

“They weren’t ever your choice. I’ve come to see that through Rosewater. Take that for what it means, please, Pleat. But don’t spread it around too much.” Collar bowed his head and raised his head to look around the ballroom. “I’ll take my leave for now. I do believe that I see one of my mentees.”

“Fare well, my lord,” Pleat said, bowing briefly, then wincing and stamping a hind hoof. “Stars, so young and already active. I do believe I wish for a drink. Do you think there are any vendors giving out non-alcoholic drinks?”

“I believe that Seed and Petal brought some juices that aren’t alcoholic,” Silk said with a gesture towards the wine stand. “If not, I would be happy to accompany you to the vendor hall.”

“My dear, I want you drunk so you spill your secrets to me,” Pleat said with a laugh and a wink and gestured towards the wine stand. “Please. Introduce me.”

“It would be a pleasure, Mrs—”

“Just Pleat, please, Silk. I want to hear about Crimson Rose’s legacy without you stumbling over titles and niceties.”

“Pleat, then, and gladly.”

“Frankly, my lady, I’ve never cared for the war. It’s bad for business.” The lord, Clipper Primwave, current leader of the Primwave family, sipped his wine and snorted his opinion of the disposition of it.

Rosewater sipped at her wine and nodded absently. It was the motto of most shippers, honestly. “I can't disagree with you. It’s been ruinous to my own business, I can tell you. Trying to get different kinds of oils and alcohols—pure, mind, nothing adulterated—is beyond difficult when I have to work with Cargo Manifest. I swear he has it in for me.”

“He just might, you know. He’s an operative of your mother’s.”

“Oh, I know… but he’s also the only one who has contracts with ships that I can actually reach.” Rosewater raised her wineglass to forestall him. “Without getting arrested.”

“You could use runners, my lady.”

“I could,” Rosewater admitted with a sigh, “but I prefer this.” She gestured with the glass again, indicating the more intimate conversation with only a few ponies lingering in the circle that were having a side-conversation of their own about the latest shipments out of Saddle Arabia. “I prefer negotiating my shipping contracts face-to-face, Lord Primwave. Could I, I would gladly contract with your ships.”

“Treason, then?” Clipper winked and laughed, rustling his wings. “I jest. From what I’ve heard and seen of you tonight, and what rumors are starting to say about your true character, I would be willing to make an exception to requiring negotiation being held in my offices. Provided, of course, you can convince Petal Rosewine to let me carry some of her wines to Saddle Arabia.”

“I can’t promise, but I can advocate for you. I know Petal has her own contracts currently, and may not be able to free herself from them on my behalf.” A little tidbit from a conversation with her filtered up through her thoughts. “But… I seem to recall that she may have some free stock looking for a buyer lately.”

Clipper laughed and drained his wineglass. “You don’t say. Well! Let us away to speak with her and refill my own glass.”

Rosewater chuckled and drained her glass as well, considerably more full than his. It was her second… or third of the night. Maybe fourth. “I admit, I wish to try one of their newer vintages. I’m quite familiar with most of their older ones, but the newer ones… well…” She waggled her glass. “She’s been cagey about letting me into her stockrooms, even to help her count.”

“Why would she be worried?”

“Because I would be able to smell what she used to make the newer vintages.” Rosewater took a deep breath and called on her heritage, drawing in the scent of the bouquet from his glass. “Yours has a hint of raspberry honey, a dash of raspberries, and a mix of white and red grapes.”

Clipper stared at her, his eyebrows rising more with every ingredient she named. “You’re pulling my tail. You can’t tell that much simply from a sniff.” He hesitated as they crossed an invisible line separating the vendor area from the rest of the ballroom, looked around, and leaned closer. “Can you? What did I have for breakfast?”

Rosewater laughed heartily, resisting the urge to prance her delight. Never before had she felt so good to use her gift. A part of it was the heady feeling of wine without food, but a greater part was the enjoyment of being treated like any other pony. “A fried potato hash with fish filling and a vinegar and tomato jam spread on top. I must admit, the combination never would have occurred to me.”

“Stars, so you really could.”

“I’m more fascinated by this fish and potato breakfast food,” Rosewater said, grinning.

“It’s a common sailor repast. Fish is plentiful on a ship. Potatoes are easy to tend to in small pots of soil, too, so we tend to have fresh potatoes on ship every now and then.” Clipper gave a shrug. “So, how far back can you smell?”

“That depends. Today is usually pretty easy. Yesterday… it depends on when you bathed. You bathed this morning before breakfast…” Rosewater leaned closer, paused, then flushed. “May I?”

“Of course. I’m fascinated by this talent your family shares because I can see so many uses aboard ship.” He chuckled and waved his glass through the air. “I can’t even tell you how many times cargo spoilage has ruined a cargo.”

Interestingly, the pegasi’s scent was… scented. A light scent, but… “I recognize that soap. A friend of mine makes it specially for Damme.”

“Oh?” Clipper held out his glass to her, and she took it up, and he hobbled forward briefly to raise his foreleg and sniff at the back of his ankle. “I like that it covers the exertions of the day.”

“I forget the name, because it’s not something I’ve ever bought for myself or been interested in it, but she was making a batch once when I went to visit her.” Rosewater shrugged as she set both of their glasses on the counter by Seed, shifting Clipper’s to sit in front of him. “It does a good job of masking the day’s exertion and removing the previous day’s.”

“I am quite pleased to hear it.” Clipper nodded to Seed as the stallion turned away from his previous customer. “Good sir, I have a wish to speak with your… wife? Partner? I’m afraid I’m not quite as well acquainted with the social niceties in Merrie as I perhaps should be.”

“Wife, my lord,” Seed said, then tipped his head to the side. “But she’s currently engaged. I can leave her a message, unless you’d prefer to wait?”

“It’s regarding that extra stock,” Rosewater said in a low voice. “That Petal has recently been unable to find a use for. Since certain patrons cancelled their order.”

“Ah!” Seed peered at Clipper, then at Rosewater. “You’re here together, then? I admit it’s been rather busy and the social swirl of this gala especially has left my mind whirling.”

“Oh?”

“Yes. Silk has been making quite the eddy in the current on the Dammer side, and a few Merriers seemed to have joined her flock as well.” Seed tipped his head towards a knot of ponies where Rosewater recognized Silk’s dress as one among many Damme-colored garments.

Rosewater only had a moment’s premonition of doom before another glass settled on the counter farther down and away from her and Clipper and Roseate’s voice broke over her thoughts.

“You should watch how much you drink, daughter,” Roseate said in a low, condescending tone. “Your drunken laughter and manner has attracted quite a bit of attention and derision.”

“From you, perhaps,” Rosewater said, deliberately slurring her words just a little more. “Lord Primwave, I apologize. Perhaps another time?”

He looked perplexed at the sudden slurring, but bobbed his head and slid farther down the bar before answering. “Of course, my lady. I look forward to your correspondence.”

“Trying for another toy in your basket?” Roseate asked crudely. “I admit he does—”

“Stop,” Rosewater said firmly, raising a hoof and swaying. “We were talking business.”

“The best you have,” Roseate snapped at Seed before the stallion could say anything, then aimed a sneer at Rosewater. “Just as you were ‘talking business’ with Collar all these months? I admit, that was a smooth play. Doomed to failure, but smooth. Do you really think he could love you? After all you’ve done?”

“After all you ordered me to do?” Rosewater countered as Seed wordlessly pulled out a bottle of the poorest vintage he’d brought—still miles above what snapping at him without cause deserved.

“I but gave you the order. It was your way to carry them out with your customary terrifying efficiency.” Roseate smirked and sniffed the wine, frowned slightly, and glanced at the blank smile Seed offered her before wandering away. “He’ll never love you,” she shot over her shoulder.

“She’s goading you,” Seed whispered. “Do you need some salty food? I have some—”

“I’m fine,” Rosewater said without the slur. Without most of the slur. “Maybe some of those fish-twist crisps I smelled out in the vendor hall? The ones with a bit of cheese baked in?” She sniffed, frowned, and glanced at Seed, brow raised.

“Ah. Those have been such a favorite pair with our wine.” Seed winked and pulled out a small bowl of them. “I had a guard fetch some for our patrons so they wouldn’t have to wander so far for samplers with different vintages.”

“Ah, Seed, you’re a blessing from the stars.” Rosewater ate two right away, savoring the richly smoked fish combined with the differently smoked cheese all wrapped in a twisting spiral of some kind of soft, salted bread. “Delicious. I could get fat on these.”

“Very true,” Clipper said as he slid back down towards her. “Those are from the Angler’s Delight tavern down on the docks. I’ve been trying for years to get Dainty Pretzel to sell me the recipe, but I’ve got a feeling the only one she’ll ever give it to is her children.”

“They’re delicious,” Rosewater moaned. “And just what I needed. I had no idea I was so tipsy.”

“No more wine for you, then,” Seed said, then glanced at Petal as she finished and came back down the bar.

“Give me some of your grape juice, then,” Rosewater said, winking. “I know you brought some, just in case there were pregnant mares or foals here.”

“You had a business proposition for me?” Petal said, raising a brow.

“Just one moment,” Clipper said, tipping his head to Rosewater. “What do you mean grape juice? I heard what she said, but I’m not sure I understand it.”

“She’s trying to goad me into doing something foolish. Like try to dance with Collar and show her just how much he loves me.” Rosewater winked as seed pulled out a glass bottle larger than most of the wine bottles. In truth, it was scented and flavored to taste like wine, but had none of the alcohol. It would leave the after-effects on her breath, but tasting it would give the lie. “So… I’m going to let her.”

Petal blinked as Rosewater ate more of the twists, glanced at the bottle as Seed filled her glass almost to the brim, and then barked a laugh she quickly covered. “Stars. You’re trying to turn the tables on her, then?”

“Not without checking with Collar first,” Rosewater said more somberly. “But either way, I want her to talk up just how ‘drunk’ and ‘desperate’ I am. I want her lies to be seen as they are by the night’s end.” She eyed the glass, then glanced between her two friends. “Tell me if I’m going about this the wrong way. Please. She’s pulled my levers all my life, and I need to know if this is yet another one.”

“That’s the mature Rosewater I know,” Petal said, relaxing and sitting back. “I’m not sure if it’s the right way, but if you can make her dance to your tune, what do you need from me?”

“And me,” Clipper said, grinning and reaching up to sweep a non-existent hat from his head. “I’ve always wondered what it would be like to be one of those dashing rogues the authors like to portray pirates as. This sounds like a jolly romp, if I do say so.”

Seed snorted a laugh. “Whatever the business is, Petal, let’s do it. I like him.”

“You would,” Petal replied with a snort and a smile. “We’ll talk later, my lord.”

“Clipper Primwave, my lady, at your service. And, if I may be so bold, my lady Rosewater, how close are you and Lord Collar? I’ve heard rumors, and your entrance and that speech was quite the eye-opener for many of my colleagues, and not generally favorably.”

“In love,” Rosewater answered before either Seed or Petal could countervail the claim. “And I don’t mind who knows it after tonight.”

“Ah, but ‘tis a secret for now. Mayhap keep the depth of the current a secret still, my lady. I can attest that not all are favorably inclined, but some more than you might realize are watching with interest to see what happens.” Clipper leaned in closer as Rosewater sipped at the juice. “Observe the breaking waves first before you land ashore, lest you catch your landing boat on a hidden shoal.”

“I intend to, and I thank you for the information and your discretion. I assure you, I will put both to the greatest use I can, but I don’t expect you to hold the secret if pressed.” Rosewater tipped the glass of grape juice back and downed it in one gulp, then settled it back on the counter. “Another.”

“My lady, I am a merchant first and foremost. That does not mean that I sell anything to the highest bidder.” Clipper snorted and held out his glass. “Something light, but definitely wine, please. I did eat just before arriving.” He turned his attention back to Rosewater. “It means selling a rare commodity only when it won’t disrupt the rest of the market. A one-time boost to my bottom line will only go so far if I poison the wells of other markets at the same time.”

“I do like a philosophical merchant,” Petal said, raising her brows.

“Ah, yes, and of course, I am selling not only goods, but myself and my reputation at the same time!” Clipper laughed again, more boisterously. “But to this plan. What should I do to make it more… efficacious? I have little love for your mother, and less now that I’ve seen how she treats you in public.”

Rosewater grinned and sipped at her ‘wine.’ “Spread a little rumor of your own about the smell of wine on my breath. You won’t even need to lie about it.” She waved her glass under his nose, then nodded at one of the small sampler glasses.

When he’d had a taste, his brows rose even higher. “Oh dear, I do love a good intrigue. Especially when all I have to do is speak the truth.”

She downed the glass once more, and held it out again. “Halfway. It will show her my fait accompli. When I hand it to her and throw her challenge in her face.”

“What are you going to do?” Seed asked, his eagerness almost a jittery thrum in his voice.

“Dance to a different tune.”

Author's Note

Finding new allies and that they're not as alone as they think they are.