Author's Note

This time two bonus chapters, because dammit, the second bonus chapter was clopless too, you deserve some clop at last!

BONUS: Assert

"Are you insane, old hag? We were just to make a potion! There was nothing about catching or killing cockarices!"

"I think you took it quite wrong.
The ingredient list is long,
Every of them necessary,
of some you should be quite wary.
With your wit or artifice,
obtain eyes of cockatrice."

"And the other thing, that schedule! Not a single day off in six months? What if I get sick?"

"Then replacement you arrange.
Do you think this matter strange
that a potion doesn't care
how do its caretakers fare?
Twenty minutes, twice a day.
Can you find another way?
One can tend ten cauldrons freely.
It is not difficult, really.
Thirty of you have the task.
Is it really much to ask?
You're Celestia's famous guard.
Have but a dignity shard!"

"Uh..." he frowned.

"Guard, Wing push-ups. Now." Cold, indifferent voice of Luna sounded from behind me. "Three hundred."

The guard got to doing the push-ups immediately.

"And for thy reference, thou shall address Lady Zecora as "ma'am" or "my Lady." The expression "Old hag" shall not be tolerated. Or preferst thou having replacements for thy job forbidden, to repeat thy failures 'til thy potion is made, by thy single hoof alone?"

Luna said, then she covered my back with her wing, giving me a warm smile.

"No, your majesty!" the guard exclaimed, without pausing the push-ups.

"We might disavow the complex tests of potion safety, giving thee a dose to drink in their stead. Thine failure to petrify wouldst prove the potion's proper make. Is't thy wish?"

"No, your majesty!" the guard squeaked in fear, doubling the effort at the push-ups.

"Then remember this: Thy mission bears no less peril as guarding the gates of Tartarus. Zecora is thy one guide and hope for survival. Ire her not, lest thy wish is to serve Equestria as a statue in the Canterlot Gardens. Hers was the order that none of you meet that fate, and patience of Zebras is truly legendary, but test it not, for her ire spells thy doom."

I saw the guard's eyes open wide. He paused the push-ups for a second, then resumed them with a firm determination. I couldn't help grinning.

"Better slow down, save some breath,
We don't want premature death.
You're at push-up forty two.
this pace will not see you through."

He threw me a glance - at first, a glare but soon it turned into expression of fear. His situation began sinking in, and he slowed down to a regular, determined speed of the exercise.

* * *

"Sir Finery, is it too much for me to ask my palace staff to follow a simple request?"

Celestia stared at the plate with what looked like a fancy, wide, squat cupcake with elaborate decor, accompanied with a tall, narrow chalice surrounded by accessories and snacks. It sat on her small bedside table, the most sophisticated out of seven other similar sets sitting on the big table of her chamber, untouched.

"I am so sorry Your Majesty," the chamberlain groveled. "The cooks did their absolute best! I... I'm at loss as to why you don't find it to your satisfaction yet."

"This one is worst of them yet. What ingredients did I request be used?"

"Sourdough of universal grade flour and plain baker's yeast with water for the flatbread, hot water, ground coffee beans for black coffee."

"And?"

"And... uh... I think that's all?"

"I added one specific phrase at the end of the request."

"And absolutely nothing else, is that right, Your Majesty?"

"Yes. And what ingredients were used?"

"Uh... the cooks might have taken some... liberties with the recipe."

"Look, if I request twenty wagons of grain delivered to Fillydelphia, my staff delivers twenty wagons of grain to Fillydelphia. Not sixty airships of rock candy to Ponyville. Then why, if I request a flatbread and black coffee, I am getting a cupcake and caramel caffè latte? How do you expect me to trust my staff to run the country if they cannot get a simple flatbread and coffee order right?"

"But Your Highness! This is far superior to plain coffee and flatbread!"

"Sir Finery," Celestia rubbed her temples with her hoof. "Ponyville may be happy to receive sixty airships of rock candy, but that will leave Fillydelphia without grain, and no amount of explaining superiority of rock candy airship transport to Ponyville is going to fix it. Let us imagine I decide budget part spent on kitchen staff salaries would serve Equestria better if redirected to hospitals. It would be superior way of spending this money, would it not?"

"If you are saying so, Your Majesty... We are merely trying to do our absolute best to please you! Anything less would be demeaning to your stance!"

Celestia sighed. "Such a dedication... and what you are getting in return is measly gold. It is demeaning to such dedicated faithful servants. It almost looks like I were buying your dedication. From now on, I shall pay for your services in goods much more superior to gold. Health - I shall sponsor two hours of mandatory physical exercises every day, Knowledge - every day for an hour you shall be taught Advanced Thaumaturgical Mathematics, and Culture - as you work, you shall be read Experimental Poetry by renowned authors like Pink Verse or Metaphor Struggle."

The chamberlain swallowed loudly. "Princess, but... I have a mortgage to pay!"

"And I have a younger sister to placate."

"I am sure Princess Luna would accept the superior meals if she only tried!"

"I am sure your bank will be equally accepting of poetry reading as a payment."

Chamberlain looked around for help. His gaze met mine. I smirked. He sent me a loathsome glare but he didn't say a word. He stood up.

"Princess, allow me to try once more please," he muttered.

"Of course." Celestia gave him a graceful nod.

He scuttled off.

As soon as the door closed, Celestia slumped on her bed, exhaustion visible. "Negotiations with dragons are easier," she muttered. "It really looks delicious, but if I take even a bite, it will be all for naught."

"Yes, your struggle would be lost.
Think of Luna's lilly toast.
Do you want it? Tell me, please.
Or you'd rather prefer this?"

"Caramel lilly toast..." Celestia swallowed loudly. "The thick syrup dripping off the edges. That crunchiness..." her mouth moved in a munching motion. Her levitation magic grabbed the plate and the cup, and set them firmly on the table next to seven previous attempts. She picked up a notebook. "So, that Ngozi of the Isikhumba tribe seems to be quite a villainous character. Why would he be touted a national hero?"

"That he isn't, nowadays
Quite ambiguous is his place.
Monster against monstrous foe,
won no freedom, but more woe.
It was fifty years of grief
till his death brought us relief.
Still, his mighty, boastful tribe
bought him fame with spear and bribe.
Talking ill of him was slander,
with banishment to offender.
Only two centuries later
came a hero with deeds greater,
who then dared to loudly speak,
how famed Ngozi was a dick."

I barely noticed Celestia's lip twitch. She was getting used to my vocabulary. You'd see the indignity when I first described the sixth king of the Udomo tribe as "in his head's place he had a dick veinous / which he kept stuffed up his anus." I could see her face going crimson as she struggled to suppress laughter. Currently that was just a barely noticeable smirk.

"That would be Idwala, of the Kuphela tribe," she half-stated, half-asked.

"No, Kuphela's not a tribe.
If you want it to transcribe,
'Tribeless Loner, who walks free',
For example, one like me."

"So, Idwala, the Kuphela?"

I nodded in approval.

"I still don't quite see the magnitude of his actions. I mean, how summoning rain can top forcing the lion empire to back down?"

I began explaining, how drought, and not lions, was the worst enemy in the savanna, and how teaching zebras to summon rain not only helped their own survival, but provided a service the tribes could sell to other savanna dwellers in exchange for goods, safety, help - and in specific cases it allowed to drain all water from whole wide areas, a mighty weapon against hostile species. Before Idwala, it was constant skirmishes with the lions. After Idwala it was the Scorched War, ending with lions suing for peace.

We got to the terms of lions' surrender, when the door opened and Sir Finery entered, followed by a cart with two silver plate covers. He removed the covers revealing a tall cup with black coffee with a small dab of cream forming a small fancy lily floating in the middle, and a loaf of flatbread, sliced, buttered, and with various ingredients on it forming small open-faced sandwiches.

Celestia frowned.

The chamberlain balked in fear.

"This is... actually pretty close." She levitated a spoon to the glass, picked out the dab of cream and scooped it out. "This is how this coffee should look like. And keep it in a mug. Do you know what a mug is?"

The stallion nodded.

"And this is..." Celestia looked at the bottom side of a sandwich - actually quite correct flatbread, but it's been made into sandwiches. I didn't request sandwiches. Just the flatbread. Try again, but without cream and without sandwich ingredients. Just the coffee and just the flatbread.

Ninth pair of plates floated to the table.

"Princess, are you sure this isn't..." the stallion interrupted when a book knocked him on the shoulder. Surrounded by golden glow, the moderately-sized book floated to the pony.

"That's a tome of poetry by Metaphor Struggle." Celestia sent the chamberlain a pleasant grin. "This is from his early period, before Discord's attack. It is considered to be more mainstream, than the newer ones. Would you care to read a poem or two?"

The pony opened the book at random, then coughed.

"Extrapulchritudinous governationalizatoristess unreplacatidiousally clairavoidanting..."

"No, no. Not out loud. Just read it and tell me what you think."

Sir Finery began reading. I saw sweat forming on his forehead. He licked his lips, then winced painfully. He flipped the page.

"Your Majesty, do I have to read a whole poem?"

"No, two whole poems. Or would you rather discuss my requested meal with the cooks?"

The stallion wiped his eyebrows with the sleeve of his uniform. "With your leave, Princess, if I may borrow this tome and present it to chef Cherrypicked, we might reach an agreement at last."

Celestia nodded gracefully and the stallion left, the cart and the book in the tow.

"I seriously hoped it wouldn't come to this," Celestia muttered, "but some ponies don't leave me much choice. So, back to the terms of Lions' surrender in the Scorched War?"

I smiled and nodded.