"Rags to Riches"

Prologue

Classical music filled the air, completing the atmosphere of a luxurious penthouse bedroom on a beautiful night. The open balcony door let a cool night breeze into the room as Fancy Pants carefully looked into the mirror, delicately adjusting his tie. He shot his reflection a smile showcasing perfect white teeth.

One more thing... Fancy thought to himself as he looked down at the cupboard, littered with many of Fleur's beauty accessories and jewelry. Amongst this, however, was a portrait of an old unicorn mare with a manilla coat, rose-red hair, and green eyes. Placed in front the portrait was a candle; by the ring of slopes and hills on the rim forming a basin around the wick, it was a given that the candle had seen regular use. Fancy's horn lit with golden arcana, which levitated from his vest pocket a matchbox. He struck the match against the box producing a satisfying crack, and lit the candle.

Upon hearing the sound of the match, Fleur De Lis poked her head around the corner from the bathroom, then gracefully entered. She strolled to his side, observing the portrait. "She's proud of you. Don't forget that."

"I know, dear, but you know what day it is today. Normally the family would be getting together today,"

Fleur chuckled. "Come now, Fancy, you can't expect every year to have this day cleared up. Besides, we're meeting with Princess Twilight Sparkle. And," the mare took a step back, batting her eyelashes seductively to him. "We've got all night together." She inched forward, smiling with anticipation.

Fancy Pants could feel her warmth as he took a step forward then extended a leg to pull her closer. They were married for what, three years? Known each other for so long before that, but Fancy Pants always marveled at how passionate they'd remained. She's been doing this all day, though. Wait a minute...

"Fleur?"

"Yes, dear?"

Fancy Pants hardly stifled a chuckle. "It's unfair that you haven't let me decide." He let go of her, magically readjusting his tie.

Fleur herself hardly contained a snort of annoyance at being caught red-hoofed. "Well, let me know when you want that foal." And with that, she made her way to the penthouse door, her expensive horseshoes clacking against the tiles in the threshold.

Observing that she held her head up in a way unmistakably similar to Canterlot nobles, Fancy Pants made a mental note. She's certainly adopted the way ponies carry themselves around here...