The Princesses’ [info redacted]

by Redstargazer

Rating: teen
Tags: Adventure, Princess Celestia, Fleur de Lis, Gore, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Alternate Universe, Comedy, Other, Prince Blueblood, Fancypants, Sex
Length: 5810

Celestia has dedicated centuries to making Equestria a safe place for her little ponies to live and grow in the lessons of friendship and harmony. Sadly, there are those who spurn the gifts of harmony for the sake of power and material wealth; by any

Celestia has dedicated centuries to making Equestria a safe place for her little ponies to live and grow in the lessons of friendship and harmony. Sadly, there are those who spurn the gifts of harmony for the sake of power and material wealth; by any means necessary.
Some of these evildoers would not hesitate to break her laws to achieve their ends. The more terrifying ones though? They use her laws.

At the founding of their rule, the Royal Sisters anticipated such problems could arise and prepared by founding a secret society. Guardians who would protect the original ideals of the royal sisters. Guardians just as ruthless as the monsters they would fight.

A/N: Gore and Sex tags due to pg-13 level violence, innuendo, and content.

Side story to be part of a larger universe.

Comments and feedback appreciated.

Fantastic cover art Provided by the talented WingsOnTheBus :pinkiehappy: You can find other gallery pieces [here].

Published 2014-11-19 09:20:05 UTC
Last updated 2014-11-19 09:20:05 UTC

Wrong Side of the Rails

Author's Note

What is the secret to Fancy's past? How many other Ponies serve in this secret society? What is the true face of Blueblood? How many other evils have been hiding in Equestrian society? And will Fancy ever get his request of baseball and booze granted my the Princess:pinkiegasp:?
Find the answer to these questions and more in
Odds and Ends
and future adventures of The Princess's Unmentionables.

Comments and suggetions appreciated:twilightsmile:.

Wrong Side of the Rails

Despite the Day court brimming with petitioners, the halls of Canterlot Castle remained fairly quiet. This was because while much of the castle remained open to the public, there were always some sections that remained closed in order for the royals and their guests to have a quiet place to relax. More often than not, the only ones roaming the halls were the servants keeping everything clean and prepared to be used on a moment’s notice.

Vanilla Leaf, one of the more recent additions to the maid staff, usually took great pleasure in this part of the job. She enjoyed the quiet atmosphere and admired the architecture. Sometimes, when she and the other staff finished early, they could run by the kitchens to grab a quick meal and relax in the private gardens.

For the last few days, however, Vanilla Leaf had been out of sorts. She barely acknowledged the other staff members, the energy she had in her work was gone, and she didn’t even take time to admire the garden sculptures. There was even a moment she spotted Princess Celestia walking down one of the hallways, but did Vanilla gasp in surprise or even try to pass by her in an attempt for an autograph as she sometimes dreamed she would? No. She barely batted an eyelash. Like so many other days, she simply kept her eyes on the ground as she stewed in her own worry.

Vanilla came to regret that new habit as she turned a corner carrying used dishes from one of the guest rooms and bumped into two stallions. The dishes crashed onto the floor and even sent some food flying forward.

“Oh no! Please excuse me sirs. I didn’t see where-where I a-that-” her apologies stuck in her throat as she finally looked up to see who she had bumped into. One was Fancy Pants, the owner of Equstria Weekly. And the other? Prince Blueblood.

Who now sported a tomato stain on his normally pristine coat.

A panicked eep escaped Vanilla’s lips and she fell to her face. “Y-your Highness! P-please forgive m-me. I didn’t see where I was going.”

“Didn’t see? Of course you didn’t. You weren’t even watching what you were doing in the first place!” the prince snorted in aversion. “Much as I’ve noted you doing the last few days.”

Vanilla started shaking. How could she have been so careless? She couldn’t help make ends meet without this job. Now she would be doing good if she managed to stay out of the dungeon. “Please your Highness, I beg forgiveness. If you would please give me another chance. I-I can fix this.”

“Oh no little one. There is only one way we are going to fix this.” His horn flashed for a moment causing a quill and parchment to appear filling the hallway with scratching noises as notes were scribbled. “You will take this note to the head maid who will immediately see to finding somepony to take your place,”-Vanilla’s ears drooped and she barely caught back a sob-“for the next two weeks during your paid leave. Be sure to deal with your personal problems during that time so you can focus on your work.”

The maid looked up in shock. “Y-your Highness?” she stuttered unable to fathom what was happening, “Why- I mean- that is to say- I don’t unders-”

“Oh fine!” Blueblood said rolling his eyes as the scribbling on the parchment increased. “If you are going to be that difficult about it take four weeks. Just be all the more ready to make up for the lost time when you get back.” The parchment was rolled and sealed with his magic before being passed to the dumbstruck maid.

“I- Y-yes your highness. Thank you. I will.” Vanilla took the parchment in her mouth and darted away as tears of relief flooded her eyes. A single thought kept repeating in her head as she tried to convince herself of what happened. Everything was going to be okay! Everything is going to be okay!

As the maid took her hasty exit, Blueblood magic’d the stain away before he and Fancy resumed their walk to the private gardens.

Fancy Pants glanced over at Blueblood as they walked. “You know, you really should be careful. Maid stains your freshly cleaned coat and you give her four weeks paid leave?” he said in mock distress. “Keep that up and you could lose your tabloid, playboy prince image.”

Blueblood snorted. “Hardly. As I said, she has been making messes for that last several days. It would be pointless to keep her working here while she frets over her sister’s upcoming heart surgery. It will go through after a week and a half and then after relaxing the rest of the time that mare will be back with a straight head on her shoulders. She did her job well before this business and finding good help is too hard to just toss her aside that easily.”

“And you just happen to know a random maid’s home troubles?” Fancy asked archly. “All off the top of your head?”

“Desperate servants make for tempting targets by the nobility. That’s one reason you keep track of them. Auntie taught me that,” he looked over at Fancy Pants, “as did you.”

“Right. It is all about the liabilities,” Fancy said dryly. “I guess that explains the mystery benefactor that covered the costs of the surgery? Roughly the same time I found a dip in your private accounts?”

“You know,” Blueblood said flatly, “I can’t help but feel disturbed at the amount of scrutiny and distinct disregard for privacy, old friend.”

“I’m part of the associated press, Bluey. I’m not supposed to care about privacy.”

The prince snorted and looked ahead as they made their way through the garden maze to the private tables. He finally shrugged. “Well, Auntie always talked about how the Leaf family stayed by her side for so many generations.” A small smile appeared on his muzzle. “Considering that Ms. Vanilla has been just as loyal I thought it would be remiss to ignore her troubles.”

“You know, what I don’t get,” Fancy said shaking his head, “is why you keep up this sniveling brat act. If you showed a tenth of this nobility of yours every mare in Canterlot would be eating out of your hooves.”

“Firstly, you were the one that taught me that perceptions are the first and last line of defense in politics. As long as those brownnosing aristocrats see a pampered fool, I can work without interference. Besides,” Blueblood looked over with a raised eyebrow, “have you seen every mare in Canterlot? They are beautiful, cultured, and half of them are so vapid that marrying one would condemn me to a life of listening to beauty tips and reminding them how to breathe.”

“And the other half?”

“Would require me to check every meal for poison that day onward. Assuming they didn’t just bite my head off on the wedding night. I can’t help but feel your luck in finding that lovely wife of yours keeps blinding you to the plight of us poor bachelors.”

“Well, I admit, my little Fleur is one of a kind. Although,” Fancy glanced over pointedly, “I seem to recall seeing quite a little gem at that last Grand Galloping Gala.”

“Ah, yes. Lady Rarity,” Blueblood sighed wistfully. “When she first showed up, I assumed she was just another gold digger. I actually had to work to get under her skin in the hopes of chasing her off but when I did,” the prince shuddered at the memory, part in admiration part in fear, “I could’ve sworn she was on the brink of striking me down on the spot. If she had shown half that fire when we met, I would have begged on my knees for her hoof in marriage.”

“It doesn’t have to be too late you know. Put some of that deviousness of yours to work patching things up, then maybe…?”

“I don’t know Fancy. I may have done too thorough a job back at the Gala. Still,” Blueblood shrugged as he and Fancy made it to the table and situated themselves while fixing tea that had been set up earlier by the servants, “it’s something to consider for the future I suppose.”

“Well, enough of my babbling. I understand you needed somepony to talk to? Something about trouble from court? Oh, and be rest assured,”- Fancypants lifted his right hoof over his heart as his left stirred his tea-“I shall do my best to resist all the instincts in my cold, little journalist heart prompting me to splatter this all over the morning edition.”

“So good to know I have compassionate friends to count on,” Blueblood said dryly. “Anyhow, this is another case of Celestia requiring an understanding ear from me about an unfortunate matter in the courts and me coming to you to vent.”

“So more than the usual red tape you are asked to deal with on occasion, eh?”

“Indeed. Do you know Duke Iron Rails of Trottingham?” Blueblood waited long enough for Fancypants to give an acknowledging nod. “Well, it turns out he’s the infamous Blood Baron.” He took out a folder and passed it to Fancypants across the table.

“Really?” Fancypants asked in surprise as he opened the folder and started reading. “I seem to recall my paper doing a piece on the Blood Baron; the rumored black market merchant, smuggler and,”- the newspaper owner grimaced- “flesh dealer.”

“Well, he and the Duke are one and the same. The Duke uses his own rail company to complete his deals across Equestria whilst shuffling them in along with all of the legitimate business transactions that use his rails. He keeps his hooves looking clean by managing the physical business out of his branch in Appleoosa where the Crown’s presence is weakest.”

“Those are some serious accusations Bluey. I wouldn’t think you, and certainly not our princess, would believe that without convincing evidence. What’s more, I would think such a rogue would be taking a stroll to the dungeons right about now.”

“That’s the problem Fancy,” Blueblood sighed tiredly, “Auntie’s sources are more than reliable enough to know it is true, and we had evidence prepared to make a case. Had being the operative word.

“I personally made arrangements for evidence and a key witness to be transported to Canterlot by train. It was stopped halfway in route by bandits. The witness died and the evidence was lost.”

“You did this by train?” Fancy asked incredulously. “Despite your suspect owning vast shares in the railroad, and allegedly using those rails to carry out criminal activity?”

“I took a calculated risk,” the prince snapped irritably. “Air ship would have been high profile and vulnerable to griffon raiders that the Blood Baron is known to employ. I ordered trusted members in the rail management to secretly trade one of the cargo cars with a disguised armored car. The witness was snuck on board, given an alias, and accompanied by two disguised guards.”

“So bandits just happen to target that train for some paperwork and one disguised witness? Wouldn’t that draw some attention to the good Duke?”

“Sadly, the Duke is too clever for something so straight forward. The evidence was taken along with a host of other passenger belongings. As for the witness? The bandits never touched any of the cargo cars. Offically, our witness died of accidental causes: he fell and broke his neck during the emergency stop caused by the bandit attack. The guards were the only witnesses.”

“Surely, any guard you sent for this would have been skilled enough to prevent such risks?”

“They were. Best of the best. On closer inspection, however, it turns out the guards weren’t the ones I sent. We just recently received reports stating that those guards went M.I.A. in route and had to be replaced by guards that already had permanent posts in Appleoosa.”

“By noble recommendation no less.” Fancypants clicked his tongue in annoyance as he read over the reports in the folder. “A small army of bandits and dirty guards? That’s going to make dealing with this Blood Baron messy.”

“Impossible actually. Without that evidence we can’t even prove the Blood Baron exists let alone that he is Duke Rails. Furthermore, the importance of his railroad to the economy means we can’t just invoke royal intervention without looking like tyrants and his disappearance would come with dire consequences. Hence, Aunite’s and my frustration.”

“Well, I am more than willing to be here as emotional support. Both to the Crown and yourself. And who knows?” the older stallion shrugged. “Considering the nature of the business, it’s possible that news of the Duke’s activities could reach dangerous ears. The ears of somepony that could scare the good Duke back onto the straight and narrow? That would be fitting.”

“No. No it would not.”

Fancypants glanced in surprise at the prince’s growled answer. “No?”

“No. It would be fitting to have that miserable wretch strung to the back of one of his own trains and dragged across the country side. With his presence needed for the railroad, however, the best I could wish for something or somepony to beat him within an inch of his life. I want him to spend the rest of his life looking over his shoulder and soiling himself at the idea of the consequences that would come with a repeat of his crimes.”

“That is… a surprisingly vehement wish from you Blueblood. For all his crimes, it’s still possible that he’s just a spoiled colt fooling himself into thinking that these crimes aren’t as bad by keeping a blind eye turned to them. I seem to remember a princely, young colt that straightened up after his own visit from the boogeypony-”

Blueblood slammed his hoof on the table causing the tea set to rattle. “THIS ISN”T SOME MARENIZING COLT PINCHING THE SERVING MAIDS!!! THIS-” the prince took a calming breath as he continued. He continued more calmly, but his eyes bore a hard stare and his voice was cold. “Regarding the flesh dealing side of his career? The Baron is known to keep choice mares, of varying ages, aside and…well, just look at the last section of those reports.”

Fancypants did as he was bid coming to the final section that was listed under the heading of ‘Suspect Hobbies’ and his expression darkened. “Well now…that certainly puts a new light on things doesn’t it?” he said softly.

Both stallions sat at the dining table in silence, their tea forgotten in wake of the conversation. After a few minutes, Fancypants dropped the folder onto the table and stood from his chair. “Well, I assure you that the missus and I will be keeping your problems in mind and are always ready to give a willing ear. Unfortunately, I will have to respectfully bring this little conversation to a close. I have to get home and help Fleur pack for her photo shoot this week.”

“Photo shoot?” Blueblood asked bemusedly as he watched his friend walk away. “As a fan of your wife’s work, I seem to recall that her next shooting is set to be in Neighlan next month.”

“Oh, yes well. It turns out she received a last minute request.” The newspaper owner looked back with a smile that seemed oddly predatory for a pony. “It’s a quaint little frontier town that I hear is quite nice this time of year.”

Appleoosa, undisclosed location-three days later, night

“And then- and then she,-” Fancypants doubled over laughing, “-she said ‘What’s wrong? Afraid to get dirty?!?’ and proceeded to fling cake all over him making him squeal like a school filly. And that was before he was trampled by a wallaroo.” He exhaled and took another sip of his hardened apple cider. The Apples certainly knew their stuff. Not quite the brandy or scotch he longed for, but this would do in the meantime.

“Mmmphmmmph!” A clattering noise came from Fancy’s left.

“Ah yes, do forgive me,” Fancy said apologetically as he stood and made his way to the other chair where another pony sat bound and gagged, “I get so got up in pleasantries sometimes that I distract myself from the issue at hoof.” Fancy reached over and pulled the gag from Duke Iron Rails’ mouth.

“HOW DARE YOU ASSUALT ME YOU INSANE LOWLIFE!?!” Duke Rail shouted, spittle flying from his lips, “I DON’T CARE HOW POPULAR YOUR PAPER IS!! I AM THE DUKE OF TROTTINGHAM AND I CAN BURY YOU, YOU CUT-RATE PAPER JOCKEYING WRETCH!!”

“Indeed. Even the owner of the Equestira Weekly could not hope to cross Canterlot nobility with impunity. Fotunately, my concern is with underworld nobility: namely, the Blood Baron.”

The bound noble immediately stopped his struggling to give Fancypants a narrowed look before his expression turned to a small smirk. “I do not know what you are implying. The Blood Baron isn’t real.”

“Oh, I’m quite aware of that,” Fancypants nodded as his magic pulled a badge from beneath his top hat, “I’m just hoping he’s willing to talk, one non-existent character to another,” he finished cheerfully.

At the sight of the badge, the Duke blanched. “N-no. That’s not…You’re one of them?! The Princesses’-”

“Yes, yes I am indeed one of those ponies” Fancypants said quickly to avoid bringing up the actual name as he placed the badge back under his top hat. “Ponies that cannot be bribed or intimidated. Ponies who answer to none but the highest authority. Ponies that-”

Fancypants’ statement was interrupted by a series of thumping noises from down the hall. A panicked, masculine shout of “DEAR CELESTIA HAVE MERCY!!!” was heard only to be silenced by a wet thunk and followed by a tittering female voice, “Oh, silly colts. Why do zey always waste time making requests from her when she’s all zee way in Canterlot?” The male voice could no longer be heard but the female voice started humming a cheery tune as more thumping noises continued.

Fancypants messaged his temple with his left hoof as the noise continued before calling out, “Dear? While my heart soars at hearing you enjoy your work could you possibly keep it down? As it is, I can barely hear myself think!”

“Oh! Pardon darling!” the voice called merrily, “I’ll try to keep zings quiet while you two have your colt time!” The sound of a door closing cut off all further noise.

“Thank Celestia. Now where were we?”

For a few minutes, the Duke could only shiver in his chair and stare at the older stallion with a blank look. He tried to make a haughty demand but only succeeded in weakly whispering, “You can’t do this.”

“I always did enjoy a good fictional piece,” Fancypants took in the Duke’s confused look before continuing, “Yes, it’s amusing how easily that statement surprises other ponies. I guess everypony just expects the owner of a newspaper to prefer nonfiction. Anyway, part of what draws me to fiction is the way ponies react to it.

“You see while Equestria is predominantly a peace-loving culture, you’ll find a shocking amount of violence suffered by characters in fictional work that the public considers quality material. It’s not limited to any one type character either! Oh no, it could be the protagonist, antagonist, side characters, anypony! I believe it’s due to the fact that ponies would never attribute guilt or discomfort to a fictional character’s suffering. After all, why feel bad when no blood was actually spilled?

“Consider the current situation. I’m sure a lot of ponies will be shocked a few days from now by the news of your skiing accident, which I have yet to confirm whether you survived I’m afraid, but rumors of a fictitious Blood Baron butchered by an equally fictitious government secret agent? I imagine the reactions would range from indifferent to cheering for good triumphing over evil or some such.”

“N-now wait a minute. You don’t have to be so rash. Name anything you want and it’s yours: a title, money, or some of my…choice merchandise perhaps?”

The sound of a door opening and hoofsteps interrupted the Duke’s failing attempts at bribery. The two stallions watched as a mare entered. Despite his annoyance at being interrupted again, Fancypants had to admit he found the sight entrancing. Duke Iron Rails would be haunted by it for the remainder of his days.

Fleur de Lis stood before the two stallions in all her radiant glory. She strolled into the room with grace and dignity despite carrying a long black bag in her magic and her face wore the same serene, almost haughty, expression that was plastered across countless fashion magazines earning her a massive following of admirers.

Of course, most of those admirers might have been disturbed to see that same expression while she was half covered in still-sticky blood.

“My apologies Fancy,” she said civilly, “I know I said I wouldn’t bother you again but I noticed something while doing clean up. Do you remember zee difficulties from our last job? I recall you saying things might have gone more smoothly if we had just been stocked with a proper cadi-kadav-hmmm.” The model put a hoof to her chin in thought, oblivious to the additional blood smears added. “What was zat word you used, dear?”

“I believe ‘cadaver’ is the term you are looking for?”

“Ah, yes dear thank you,” his wife said graciously. “When I came to deal with zee body of zee last corrupt guard I noticed some qualities you said were needed in a good cadaver.” She flopped the bag onto the table, careful to avoid knocking the cider over, and pulled the zipper down revealing the staring face of said guard.

“Hmmm.” Fancypants held up his monocle to examine the body, ignoring the retching and gagging sounds from his left. “Nondescript, common cheekbone placement, easily alterted facial features. The dossier said this one didn’t have family or close friends, correct?” His wife nodded. “Very well then. We’ll simply store him in the large luggage we keep empty for emergencies. Just be sure to remember the freezing spells. Last thing we need is to draw attention on the train ride home when other passengers notice the smell.”

“Of course not! What do you take me for?” Fleur snorted daintily. “Zee very idea zat I would make such an amateur mistake!” She continued muttering as she zipped up the body bag and hauled it back up with her magic.

She started to leave, but turned around long enough to plant a kiss on her husband’s cheek. “Everything should be taken care of by zee time you are finished ‘aving words with zee Duke. I’ll ‘ave you know, however, zat I expect you to have an excellent outing planned for me tomorrow for zat little comment and all this hassle you put me through.”

“Of course, my dear,” Fancy said fondly, “only the best for the lovely mare that made me the luckiest stallion in Equestria.”

“But of course,” Fleur said coyly.

Fancypants pulled out a handkerchief and dabbed at the new blood smear on his cheek as he fondly watched his wife sashay out of the room gracefully, even with her burden. He sighed contently. “I really have to wonder what I did right for that lovely creature to say yes. Anyway, as I was saying-?” the old unicorn stalled as he noticed a new, musty smell in the room. His eyes arched in contempt as the glanced back to the source of the smell.

Duke Iron Rails, feared in the underworld and by decent ponies everywhere as the dreaded Blood Baron, now trembled and sniveled in his chair. His front was covered in vomit from his earlier panic and a warm puddle was quickly forming beneath his seat. He managed to whine, “Please. Please just tell me what you want.”

This request prompted Fancy to form a pleasant smile and clap his hooves together in excitement. “Excellent! The sooner we finish, the sooner we can be home again. Now,” he pulled out a parchment and quill that levitated and immediately began to take notes, “we will cover the basics of course: client names, associates, assets, prisoner locations. Hmmm, what else? Ah yes, your,” Fancy’s pleasant smile froze as eyes hardened creating a rather chilling expression, “…hobbies.”

The Duke stopped blubbering long enough to widen his eyes in fear and wheeze, “M-my hobbies?”

“Correct. I thought it would be nice to compare interests. I understand you are a collector of mares for certain…off the book pleasures? Personally, I never possessed enough patience for collecting. More of a sports fan; more specifically, baseball.”

“Baseball? What in Equestria is that?!”

“Well it hasn’t really caught on in Equestria yet. It’s more of an old interest from an old life. Let’s see. I think the first topic of discussion will be-” Fancypants flashed his horn and a nearby chair exploded into splinters aside from a single leg which floated over and gently tapped Duke Rails on the cheek. The sudden contact, as well as the ghoulish grin on Fancy’s face, elicited another whimper, “-batting averages.”

Hours later, Fleur had managed to get the last of the blood washed out of her fur as the last item in her cleanup work. She went over the list of tasks in her head to be sure she covered everything: bodies disposed? Check. Cadaver stored? Check. Alibies prepared? Check. Twitching heap, a.k.a. Duke Iron Rails, carted off to his new location and still breathing? Reluctantly checked.

Fleur shook her head moodily at that last item. It took all of her will power to keep from slitting that petite pervert’s throat. How many mares lives had that wretch destroyed for his personal pleasure? How many mares died in despair as she would have had her husband not met her first?

She took a calming breath. No zinking like that now Fleur, she silently berated herself, He did find you, other mares can sleep safely now, and zat Duke will never forget zis night. The last thought brought a serene smile.

She walked back into the interrogation room to find her husband slumped in his chair, the cider bottle nearly emptied beside him. Fleur’s lips pressed into a thin line at this. She never liked seeing him intoxicated but she understood his need to escape the stress. This work always left mixed feelings. Fancy enjoyed saving others, but he hated how much it reminded him of his old life: the violence, the corruption, the duplicity. Yes, with her own inner demons, she understood the need to unwind.

She just preferred the ways they…joined efforts…toward that end. The thought brought a warmer smile to her muzzle.

“I know you’re there doll face,” the stallion slurred. “You might as well come join me.”

Fleur sighed and came to stand beside her husband, her head resting on his shoulder. One thing she liked about these moments was when her husband dropped the overly polite Canterlot dialect for his natural accent. He always seemed more, well, open when he did. That, and she was always fascinated by his eccentric, Manehattan-like voice quality.

“No matter how long I think on it,” Fancy muttered, “I can’t figure out how I managed to earn the attention of a great dame like you.”

That got an annoyed snort from Fleur. And here they came back to the point that made her hate seeing him in the bottle: he always looked down on himself. “Oh how could that have been?” she said dryly. “Surely not zee mundane fact zat you saved me from being sold as a pleasure slave in underworld Prance?”

“That was enough to get you to work with me doll. Not to mention the chance at pay back against your old foalnappers.”

“True. But in you I found zee stallion I needed: one who seeks a better future for others even knowing zat ‘e would have to get ‘is hooves dirty. My beautifully, flawed knight. Dear Fancy-”

“No,” her husband cut in. “We’re alone doll. No fake names. No masks. Not between us.”

“Of course, love.” Fleur agreed softly. She bent down to her husband’s ear and lovingly whispered his secret name. A name from his old life that few knew, and only she was given freely.

Canterlot, throne room, one week later

“And with the last of his warehouses found, I think we can safely consider the Blood Baron out of commission. All thanks to our anonymous source of course,” Blueblood said cheerfully.

He currently stood before Celestia’s throne providing his report covering the guard’s raids over the past few days. With the information they had, they captured thirty-five bandits, ousted numerous slavers, rescued twenty mares, and even weeded out twelve corrupt officers from various posts across Equestria.

The princess nodded happily. “That is good to hear nephew. As always, I appreciate the dedication you show to this work. And of course, please pass my gratitude to your ‘anonymous source’ should you get the chance.”

“Gladly, Auntie,” Blueblood nodded before shifting through his papers, “let’s see. I believe there was something…? Ah yes! We’ve received news from Canterlot General that Duke Iron Rails is recovering quite nicely from his skiing accident. The doctors estimate he should be out of the body cast in roughly six weeks. Eating solid food again will take another month or so I’m afraid. I hope you don’t mind, but I took the liberty of sending a care package with your royal regards.” He smiled smugly. He would have paid good money to see the Duke’s face when that package arrived. Along with some other items, the package included a bottle of Apple cider and an autographed photo of Fleur de Lis wearing a stetson and holding, based on Fancy’s description, a baseball in her left hoof. The model was more than eager to contribute that part of the gift package.

Blueblood’s inner gloating was interrupted by a tired sigh coming from the dais above him. “Auntie?” he asked worriedly, “are you well?”

“Not particularly,” the solar princess answered tiredly. “It has been over a thousand years, nephew. We should have long since come past the point for such…extremes. For every little pony I manage to protect, more seem to come to harm. And by other ponies using my law no less!” Celestia shook her head in disgust at herself. “It just seems like I should have accomplished more by now.”

“Auntie, with all respect,” Blueblood said quietly, “you take too much onto yourself. Those thousand years were spent ruling a country designed to be administered by two rulers and all after having lost somepony close to you with no opportunity to grieve. You are not alone in this.

“Auntie Luna is back to resume her duties, you have your faithful student accompanied by the elements, and you have a gift for finding talented ponies, and other creatures for that matter, and bringing them together. If that’s not enough, this kingdom is filled with adoring subjects ready to come to your aid at a moment’s notice. For every ‘Blood Baron’ out there you can be sure there are at least ten more ponies that are ready to come to your call. Your subjects are here for you Auntie,” Blueblood bowed his head as he continued gently, “you need only believe in us.”

Celestia’s retained that renown stoic expression but her eyes appeared to have a slight shimmer. “Thank you nephew. And you know,” her expression changed to the equally renown, and sometimes feared, smile of mischief, “if rumors are to be believed, there is even a secret order of ponies that Luna and I started millennia ago. One that my dear sister would surely love to get in touch with again. Assuming they were real of course.”

“Uh, yes,” Blueblood said hesitantly, unsure of where the princess was going with the conversation, “I’m sure they would gladly meet her when she feels prepared to take the additional command.”

“Yes, if I remember correctly,” the princess said thoughtfully with a hoof to her chin, “They were a dedicated group of ponies that could not be bribed or intimidated. Ponies who answered to none but the highest authority.”

Blueblood’s ears flattened as she realized it was one of those moods. “Um. You know, Auntie? I really don’t think it’s necessary for you to go into details. I’ll just see about, um, investigating and-”

“Yes, ponies that were fiercely loyal to the Ideals of the crown,” Celestia continued as if Blueblood had not spoken. “Ponies so fearsome that he wickedest souls dare not mention their name. The Legendary-”

“Auntie, please! You don’t need to say-”

“-Princesses’ Unmentionables.”

Prince Blueblood facehoofed in aggravation. “Auntie, please! We,” he coughed and continued, “I mean, if such a group were to exist, wouldn’t they prefer a more dignified name? Perhaps something like the Unspeakables or the Inescapables.” Blueblood frowned and shrugged, “I actually recall one of our more recent memb-I mean-storytellers suggesting an excellent name: the Untouchables.”

“Well, yes. That does sound rather impressive. But,” the princess smirked as she went on, “being an immortal with all of this time and so much work occupying means we have to find amusement wherever we can. Also, Luna chose the name herself so you can blame her for that. I just went along with it because it got a good laugh at the time.”

The prince sat aiming a sour look at the giggling monarch. Eventually, he found a smile of his own and pulled out a new scroll. “Well, if you are desperate enough for amusement to think up absurd names for fake societies, then perhaps you could see to granting one of our ‘anonymous source’s’ requests.”

The scroll took on a golden glow as Celestia took hold of it in her magic and started to read with a raised eyebrow. It was her turn to facehoof after seeing a request that their source had made all too often during...moments of indulgence.

Dear Princess,

Equestria is long overdue for quality hooch and baseball. WOULD YOU KINDLY STOP GORGING ON CAKE LONG ENOUGH TO MAKE IT HAPPEN!?!

“Honestly, that stallion has a one-track mind,” the Sun Princess muttered.