Shall in Accordance

“How could you!”

Silken Sash’s head rang like it had been placed between two great brass gongs that were being beaten by a dozen of the Canterlot Royal Guard. The distilled red willow tea she had been drinking, and the dinner catered by Haute Cuisine, had done a little to take the edge off the horrible pounding of her head. That had been until her daughter had finally caught wind of the nature of the contract she’d just unknowingly signed her compliance to.

“How dare either of you!” the young pink mare railed at both parents, her crystal blue eyes darting between them, full of flashing rage at her apparent betrayal by her family. “To think that I would ever agree to let you have this single syllable dunce of a colt-cuddling fudge-packer,” she glared at the big red stallion seated opposite her father at the dining room table, “not only have my virginity, but to actually let him get me pregnant? You two must have more horse-apples packed into your shit-filled heads than he’s packed up his colt-friend’s corn-holes!”

“If you hate me that much,” Silken’s daughter was now staring directly across the table at her, writhing in self-righteous fury, fore-hooves planted on the table, “why don’t you just stuff my marehood full of your own shit and wait for the infection to kill me, not just leave me sterile like you, instead of letting this impoverished drooling idiot rip me open with his filthy shit-prod and being able to wipe your hooves of it!”

“Diamond Dazzle Tiara!” Silken’s husband began rising from his seating cushion, but the rage-stoked filly just fled the dinning room with an abruptness and velocity that would have rivalled Pinkie Pie on a sugar-rush punctuated with the thunderous slam of a bedroom door.

Silken merely raised the front of her fetlock to her forehead, and let out a painful sigh. Less so for her violently throbbing head, than the momentous, all encompassing, failure of a lifetime schooling her daughter in etiquette.

As she lowered her hoof from her head Silken could feel the throbbing in her temples from the hangover, but the ache of her pride was giving it a run for its money.

Silken’s own parents, Cotton Bale and Mint Julep, would have both died of embarrassment if they’d heard their granddaughter’s tirade. Silken had tried to instil all she could into her only foal of the values of etiquette, poise, tact, and grooming. She had tried as much as Diamond Tiara’s father had instructed to show her those of good business practices, financial responsibility, and community values. At this moment Silken just could not think of where they went wrong.

On both sides of her lineage Diamond Tiara was blessed with all that came with it. Her cutie mark had been earned in a summer harvest pageant. She demonstrated charisma, poise, and bearing in motion and form on a daily basis. But Silken had to admit, her daughter had a dark side. Diamond Tiara held herself apart from others, save Silver Spoon, her only close friend.

It pained Silken quietly inside; if she hadn’t contracted that uterine infection after foaling Diamond, she had meant to brood a large family with her husband. Perhaps with other siblings to care for, to be looked up to by, to share in life’s bounties with, her daughter might have been better off.

“How dare she speak like that to us and our guest?” Silken watched as her husband, Filthy Rich, made to move after his daughter, only to be silently called to a halt by the massive scarlet leg and brass coloured hoof of the other stallion at the table.

“Nnope.”

“Big Mac,” Silken’s husband turned to the young stallion they’d agreed to pair with their daughter, “she’s been terribly rude to you, as well as us. She needs to apologize for her impudent behaviour, and I’m going to see that she does. I will completely understand if you want to abandon our agreement after this, it is your option after all. The final signatures aren’t in place yet. There is another option for her, my wife’s cousin in Canterlot would probably take her in.”

Silken winced as her head kept pounding. Taking a sip from her cup of tea, she knew what Filthy meant by offering Big McIntosh a pass. It was the reason in the end she’d agreed with her husband to move forward on the offer to invoke the stud contract that had been drawn up between the two families after Diamond had been foaled.

Her cousin, Velvet Glove, had a lot in common with Diamond Tiara. They both had good looks, poise, grace, a love of wealth, and an abundance of ambition. Velvet Glove in some ways was the perfect mentor for Diamond Tiara, in other ways absolutely not. There were reasons most of Silken’s family had largely disowned the mare.

“Uncle Fil, d’you remember the time you ‘n’ mah Pa, swiped that zap apple pie right from Granny’s oven, but got caught when y’all tried t’ eat it quick fast so y’ wouldn’t get caught?”

Silken cocked her head, this story she may have heard, or not, but she listened to her husband’s reply.

“I remember McIntosh. We burnt our mouths right good, and your Granny Smith came running when she heard us holler. She told us she wouldn’t punish us if we finished eating that piping hot pie right there and then in front of her. We took two more bites and decided to go out to the orchard and cut a pair of switches rather than finish. It was easier sitting down for dinner with a tanned flank than going around with a blistered tongue.” Filthy Rich gave a light chuckle at the end.

“Eeyup,” the big farm pony said nonchalantly as ever, “and right now your little filly’s pie there is hot enough that she’s might to do a lot worse if you try and take a bite out of her right now. So if y’don’t mind me saying, I think we should finish up this fine dinner here that’s cooling off, and give Di a chance to cool a spell before anypony tries to even take a lick at her.”

Silken nodded her head. She remembered the story from her wedding. Big Mac’s reasoning made sense too, as she watched her husband sit back down at the table. Her head was still throbbing from the apple brandy that morning, and she didn’t want to have to face Diamond any sooner than needed. Besides, the glazed carrots with asparagus and pine nuts were quite good. It was a shame to let them go cold.

* * * * *

Filthy Rich had to admit the meal catered by Haute Cuisine was quite good, glazed roast carrots with asparagus and pine nuts, an alfalfa and dandelion greens salad with apple and almond slivers paired with a raspberry vinaigrette, and for dessert, sugared palm hearts. There was a distinct reason Filthy Rich knew he gave Haute Cuisine the bulk of his personal catering business. He gave no slight to the Cakes or Sweet Apple Acres, but both were more suited to larger functions and Filthy had used them both on different occasions. Haute Cuisine though was his go to pony for private business dinners like this.

“That was a mighty fine supper y’all provided.” The big scarlet stallion voiced his approval to his hosts.

“Yes it was.” Silken chimed in after taking a moment to drain her teacup. “Now if you gentlecolts would like to retire to the parlour, I’m sure you probably have some business to discuss, while I go get Diamond taken care of. Mac dear, would you prefer tea or coffee?”

The congenial hostess as always. Thought the brown business pony of his wife, her charm and grace were two of the reasons he’d pursued her for years in order to win her hoof. A fine physique and a plot that would raise wood on a corpse had something to do with it as well.

“Actually, Aunt Sil, I think that pint flask I brought would do nicely right now.” McIntosh replied courteously as Filthy Rich cocked an ear to his surrogate nephew’s remark.

“Oh yes, of course Big Mac, it slipped my mind amid all that’s gone on today.” Silken replied.

“Coffee my dearest.” Rich added, and then turned to McIntosh. “Flask McIntosh? I hope your not looking to drown some problem there son, I know your Pa wouldn’t approve of that.”

For a moment the big red colt’s face seemed to give a hint of distress but a deep breath seemed to restore its integrity as Silken began to clear the table.

“Nnope,” the younger pony commented as the two stallions made their way towards the parlour, “I remember well mah Pa telling me ‘bout my great uncle Sour Apple. I ain’t planning on crawling into a keg any time soon. But that flask is part of my reasons for coming tonight.”

“Do tell.” The older stallion offered the lead to the younger.

“Well first I’ll wait f’r the flask b’fore I’ll answer that. Second, we need t’ be lookin’ over those papers if your in agreement.”

“Alright,” Filthy Rich nodded as they reached the parlour and he motioned Big McIntosh to a pair of sitting cushions with a small table between them as he drew the legal papers out of his collar pocket and passing them to the younger pony. “If you’re sure you still want to go through with it. I mean I know how much you want to do right by your folks and repay what you think you owe me, which is precisely nothing, I’ll remind you. Why, after having her insult you like that, would you want to? I’ve had business associates who would have been half way to a lawyer’s office before she’d finished half of what she called you.”

“Well, I can’t rightly blame her for some of it.” The red stallion’s voice and visage were inscrutable in their composure as he spoke as he perused the amended document. “I doubt she’d ever sat down for dinner with a ‘business associate’ of her father’s only to find out through a slip of the tongue that she was basically being given to that associate for the siring of foals without having been asked her opinion on the matter.”

Filthy Rich nodded grimly before admitting the truth. “No McIntosh, I doubt she has, as I know for a fact it hasn’t. But that doesn’t answer why your still willing to got through with this? Most ponies see right trough her grooming and fair filly features to see, I’m sorry to admit, shallow, petty, foal.”

The look McIntosh offered was perplexing, as if asking ‘what, can’t you see it?’ but he offered his words in explanation.

“Uncle Fil, I’m not blind as to what Diamond is, but I can see the potential that’s hidden there. My Pa told me that an apple's seeds contain poison, but a good orchard pony knows to look beyond that and see the bounty that can be gained with work and time. I see that kind of potential in Di, and I would like the chance to see what can be grown from that seed with care and time.”

Just then Silken entered the room, tray in mouth, bearing two steaming cups, one each of coffee and tea, accompanied by a pint flask and empty mug. The brown stallion watched as his wife set the tray down on the main coffee table and took a seat on the nearby couch in proximity to her husband.

“I’m sorry.” The lavender mare apologized sweetly, despite her likely still pounding head, for apparently derailing her husband’s conversation. “Did I interrupt something?”

“Oh no dear, nothing of the sort.” Filthy Rich assured his wife. “We were just discussing the arrangements regarding Diamond Tiara.”

“Oh,” the mare of the house brushed absently at her coral-pink forelock as she took a sip of her tea, “should I put out extra linens for the guest room or Di’s? Not that I’d object to Mac spending the night. It’s just that Di just came out of season a day or so ago and probably won’t be very, well, receptive as you saw.”

The brown business pony watched the green eyes of the younger red shrink at Silken’s comment, darting back and forth across the room for a few heartbeats before Big Mac regained his composure. Sure he, like many ponies in Ponyville probably wouldn’t want to sit opposite Mac and play ‘Longhorn Hold ‘em.’ On the other hoof, Filthy Rich knew some of the things that would crack the bigger pony’s calm, and Silken had just mentioned two of the biggest, mares and making foals.

“Aunt Sil, Uncle Fil, I don’t think it would be right of me to impose on her like that. Just like I don’t think it’s fair what you did to Diamond, by not telling her about this family agreement. Di’s almost a mare-grown, and she deserves at least to be informed of what’s going on and be given the choice, and I think you owe her an apology for that. There were other choices, am I right?”

Filthy Rich let the young stallion’s words sink in, and could see Silken experiencing likewise. There were times the older stallion wondered what Mac spent his spare time doing to hone such disarming wisdom and insight.

“My cousin has offered …” Silken began slowly.

“It’s hardly an offer Sil,” Rich wasn’t willing to entertain that notion, but it was technically on the floor now, “neither is the other option. But if Mac here would like Diamond to have her informed consent, I guess we can put the choice before her.”

“Good,” McIntosh rose from his seat, “I’ll go fetch Diamond, if you’d like to get a quill, and some proper glasses, I’ll sign, pending Di’s approval.”

Filthy Rich just looked at his surrogate nephew, now understanding the purpose of the pint flask.

“Eeyup.”

* * * * *

How could her parent’s be such royal, backstabbing, plot heads?

Diamond Tiara sat on the tasseled cushion in front of her dressing table, her tiara lying where it had fallen in front of the mirror on the table top next to where her head now lay. Sold. She’d been sold like a piece of jewellery. To some dirty, dumb, dolt of a farmer that her father dared call a ‘business associate’.

She’d been fuming ever since she had run from the dinner table after verbally skinning her parents and that destitute dumb-ass plough-pony. How could they just sign over her, their only foal and heir, to some colt cuddling dirt dragger of an idiot without a bit to his name and expect her to let him stick his shit sodden foal pole in her pristine plot and, … the rest of the thought made her ill.

If that trollicorn hadn’t sent Silver Spoon to the Crystal Empire, Diamond would have run to her friend for comfort. But no, she had to seek refuge in her bedroom now, alone, like a foal. And she wasn’t a foal; she was a leader, a princess of the boardroom, heiress to the rich legacy of the Richs’.

The soft knock on her door drew her attention as well as her ire.

“Go away mother, I don’t want to speak to you, or father.”

“Diamond Tiara?”

The young pony started at the firm heavy slow voice came from the other side of the door.

“Go away, I don’t care if my parents gave you permission to rut me raw, they should have tied me up first if that’s what they wanted.”

“I’m sorry y’r folks didn’t tell you. But I’ve talked to them about that, and they’d like for you to come out and join us in the parlour. They’ve agreed to apologize to you for not informing you sooner, and are willing to let you have your say regarding the options you have.”

Diamond Tiara had nearly dismissed the slow talking farm pony out of hoof, until her ears perked up when he had said that her parent’s were willing to apologize to her! That and they were willing to let her pick a way out of this mess.

Apple Bloom’s manure brained brother must be a bigger colt-cuddler than I thought, Diamond lifted her haunches from their pillowed perch and regarded them in the full length mirror nearby, giving her tail a sultry swish as she did, especially if he’d turn down this flank. My plot’s almost nice enough to turn any stallion randy.

“Just a moment.” she turned up the sugar in her voice again, barely able to cover her loathing, but managing all the same. She straightened her appearance retrieved her toppled tiara from the table replacing it atop her frost and lavender mane.

This will be good, Diamond patted herself on the back for her skilful manipulation an good fortune, not only did this fudge-packing dimwit talk my parents into apologizing to me for trying to ruin my life, but I get to give him the piss off after.

The big red colt was still standing outside her door when she opened it after an appropriately timed delay. He gave her a bow and motioned her down the hall with a gesture of his hoof. She simply turned up her nose and trotted arrogantly to the parlour to receive her parents’ act of contrition.

“Well?” she sniffed woundedly as she arrived in the sitting room, noting the big red stallion standing behind her gave her an added sensation of authority, in spite of her dislike of his presence. Maybe I’ll see about getting daddy to hire me a bodyguard later.

“Your mother and I wish to apologize to you Diamond Tiara for not giving your feelings due consideration in all this. We tried to offer you only the best we could, but McIntosh is right, your nearly a mare-grown and we shouldn’t make such decisions about your future without your consent.”

“And well you shouldn’t.” The prissy pink filly gave her disdainful, yet polite, acknowledgment to her parents’ admission.

“Therefore we’ve agreed to let you choose from among the options we’ve been offered.”

“Yes, you should. I’m sure there are better options than getting my flank humped by this bump’s log.” She motioned with her head to the stallion behind her. “So what are they.”

“Well, given the financial damage your disgraceful behaviour has brought to my associates, not to mention your reputation in Manehatten and Fillydelphia, none of my business suppliers is willing to take you on in a executive apprentice position, and some have gone so far as to suggest they would not renew supply contracts if I were to place you with the company. This would place the whole family at financial risk if I did so. In order save the company, and our financial future, I’m prepared to sell the majority of Barnyard Bargains to another stallion with suitable financial experience in order to offset the liabilities. Is that not correct McIntosh?”

“Eeyup,” the red pony nodded, “I’d buy eighty percent of Barnyard Bargains for the agreed price of ten bits, and then hire Diamond as an executive apprentice while you retain day to day operational control under a profit sharing and salary agreement.”

“Unacceptable,” whined Diamond shrilly, “That’s my inheritance your selling out, next option.”

“My cousin, …” Diamond Tiara looked at her mother who seemed most perturbed as she spoke, “Velvet Glove, would probably agree to take you and have you work under her in Canterlot. She expressed interest in taking you on when she found out about your most recent expulsion.”

“Oh why didn’t you say something sooner.” Diamond beamed. Canterlot was the Royal Seat, of course she’d take the offer. “What manner of business, finance? Law?”

“My cousin runs the Lacy Bridle … ” Diamond’s grin widened at the name, it sounded like a lingerie shop, and an expensive one at that, models, glamour, high society. It was the perfect option, and no getting rutted by an applebucking bumpkin, not to mention the chance to meet the young aristocracy and maybe move up in the world.

“Absolutely.” She cut her mother off, only to see the shock bloom on her face before it fell completely.

“It’s a bordello, Diamond dear. Velvet Glove offered to take you on as a … ”

The young pony knew what her mother couldn’t bring her self to say, whore. It would be the end of her life socially, her parents’ would have to disown her to keep off the scandal, and even Silver Spoon would be unable to associate with her without bringing disrepute to herself.

“Not!” Diamond quickly backtracked to cover herself from her seeming initial approval. “Absolutely not! There must be something else.”

“Yes Diamond, there is,” her father’s voice carried the same flat tone as the big red pony that still stood behind her as he tipped his head to where a gold nibbed quill sat in front of a cider flask on the coffee table, “you can come over here, pick up this quill, and ask Big McIntosh to sign your contract.”

Diamond Tiara swallowed hard, she was caught, out of options, … bucked.

With all the grace she could muster she stepped forward and made her choice.

Author's Note

Oh, and for those who are wondering, yes, in the next chapter Diamond's cherry goes pop.