WELCOME TO CLARITY PEAK SKI RESORT – ENJOY YOUR STAY!
Chrysalis turned her gaze downwards, pondering over the pitiful existence of a tiny reindeer weaved entirely of fir twigs, which, for a mere decoration, was surprisingly detailed. It had branched sticks in place of antlers, a red walnut imitating the nose, and a ribbon fashioned into a bow-tie as useless as its wearer itself, but still somewhat elegant. Next to the reindeer stood a wooden tablet branded with a crest of the Crystal Empire with its apparent greetings and a persuasive reminder for the visitors. Chrysalis snorted. She was the Queen of the Changelings, and she was going to make her own mind whether or not to enjoy her time in this pathetic place.
The insolence of inanimate objects was beyond her, sometimes.
“My Queen? Are you not coming?”
As Chrysalis poked the reindeer its nose fell off. She locked it under her hoof. “Go forth without me, Iqqel,” she said, beholding the reindeer as if she was expecting some kind of a twiggy ambush. “I shall visit the local beanery first before I turn to the slopes. Who knows, perhaps I’ll find some worthy sources of love which we could then invite to the Hive?”
“If I may, you’re on holiday now. You’re here not to work, but to relax. Would it be that difficult to take your mind off constant planning and stirring up deception?”
Playing with the nut, Chrysalis looked at her advisor whose violet eyes shined from between a tasteful pink scarf and a matching beanie with four pompoms sticking out of it. Although clothing was a pony thing, the changeling master crafters rose to the occasion to prove to their overground competition they were no worse, especially since garments were often considered status symbols rather than actual means of protection. The Queen and her onefold entourage had been properly outfitted with unique attires almost matching the impossible to surpass Carousel Enterprises.
“I won’t be overexerting myself,” Chrysalis replied. She wrapped her snowboard in a venom green mist of magic, tapping on the one belonging to the other changeling. “Now go, show these pesky Equestrians that our kin is superior even in such unfavorable conditions, for we are natural born winter sportslings!”
Iqqel leaned towards her in a conspiratorial manner and whispered, “But we’re not! Our caves have hardly any slopes and there is no snow to—”
“I remind you that you’re on holiday as well. Would it be that difficult to take your mind off analyzing and poking holes in one’s logic every now and then?” Chrysalis asked. “I swear, I sometimes think you’ve dedicated yourself to a wrong caste. Shouldn’t you be a Thinker?”
A nervous chuckle was heard as Iqqel went to fastening her board to her back. “I wouldn’t look good in silver, my Queen, and I am most content with being a Speaker I am,” she said. “I’m ready to go. If there’s anything else you need me to do, please say so.”
“Thank you, Lili-Iqqel. That would be all.”
The changeling bowed and headed towards the ski lifts, while Chrysalis mustered all of her self-control not to knock the reindeer over. She looked around, took a breath of cold winter air, then crushed the nut under her hoof with a loud crack of excessive force, leaving but a sad, broken shell unfit for anything. She scattered the pieces in front of the now forever noseless reindeer which stood stoic despite the reprehensible crime it just witnessed.
“Oops. My bad.”
It wasn’t much, but deep inside Chrysalis cherished her victory.
Of all the ski resorts she had ever seen, the Clarity Peak complex was by far the most despicable one, mostly due to its infestation of cheerful reindeer gazing at you with their empty crystal berry eyes—for some reason she found them exceptionally freakish—but also because of the glistening snow. A common enough occurrence on such altitude, yet so annoying. Chrysalis never understood why anyone would get so fascinated about the snowflakes, these silent, face-stabbing daggers which just waited to prick your cheeks or melt all over you. They had no value whatsoever, there was no practical application for them, and their blinding shine was unbearable. Come to think of it, the snow was a flawed concept overall.
This whole place could get swallowed by an avalanche for all Chrysalis cared, but there was a bright side to it nonetheless. Since the Cultural Exchange Program with Equestria had become binding, her subjects were welcomed in pony societies even in their natural form, and so were the ponies visiting the Hive. Even here, a couple of charcoal black silhouettes could be spotted sliding down the slope or chattering with their pony acquaintances.
Chrysalis was content. After so many years of isolationism imposed by her predecessors, her changelings were having a good time. Who was she to ever take that away from them?
Venturing around the terraces of the complex for a while, Chrysalis stopped by an information board about Clarity Peak actual, a mountain on the slope of which the resort was built. She skimmed over a historical note out of pure boredom, then moved to a plan where a ruby pin marked her current location. Out of habit, she began to wonder which vector of approach would suit best in case she wanted to take over. Would she go with a sneak attack from below, or perhaps a full-blown assault from the top? Maybe she’d play her patience card, and replace the staff one by one so the ponies would never notice they had been conquered?
Chrysalis sighed, warmth escaping her lips in form of a mist. The Warrior Caste would excel in any of these tasks, but in the end she would not gain anything she couldn’t get with a more subtle approach by following a path of diplomacy rather than war. Oh, how much the state of things had changed over these last couple of years. How much she had changed.
“Hello, Chrysalis. Read anything interesting?”
Broken out of her peaceful reverie, Chrysalis gritted her teeth. Why, of all the creatures in the world it had to be her? Such inhospitable frozen desolation of snow and sorrow—these two words should be synonyms, really—was no place for running into anyone, especially not into the embodiment of benevolent grace beaming behind her.
Chrysalis put on her best smile.
“Ah, Celestia,” she greeted the alicorn. “I would have commandeered one of those snow cannons to give you a proper welcome if I knew you’d be here.”
“Your courtesy and good humor never cease to amaze me,” Celestia replied, not letting the subtle provocation disturb her composure. “I was visiting Princess Cadance and she recommended Clarity Peak. It is a short trip from the heart of the Empire, after all, and to be honest I needed a day off Canterlot affairs. Shall we?”
Celestia pointed to the edge of the observation deck overlooking the magnificent Crystal Mountains. Far to the east and west, the imperious peaks towered over humble valleys down below, as watchful guardians protecting the northern border of the Crystal Empire. Crusts of white snow covering the peaks turned into singular patches with every inch to the south, soon to be replaced by evergreen fields with a small crystal spire sticking out somewhere amongst them.
Chrysalis looked over the railings. How hard would she have to throw Celestia to break that safety net, again?
“How’s the Hive doing?”
“Mighty, as always,” Chrysalis replied. “United under one leader, which does not seem to be the case in your lands. To what end, I wonder? First you gave the Crystal Empire to your lovely niece, then you made your former student a Princess for the sake of overseeing that pinnacle of modern urbanization called Ponyville. You even let Diamond Dog tribes rebrand themselves, and pilgrim to the south so they could find their independence on the outskirts of your kingdom,” Chrysalis said. “Aren’t you little worried that some foreign force will benefit from such state of things?”
Celestia rested her hooves on the railings, looking far into the distance as she played with the fringes of her silversilk scarf which seemed to be radiating warmth of its own. “We are at peace even with the Griffin Kingdom since they have united. The enemies of Equestria are either gone, or on our very side. Or,” she took a quick glance at the changeling, “they realized there is more to gain via mutual cooperation and trust. I can even think of a certain Queen who did.”
Chrysalis snarled. “Save it. I am still as capable of conquest as I am of nurturing this exchange of ours,” she said. “You of all should know that. You’re the one who ended trapped in a cocoon the last time we jousted, remember?”
“It was most amusing to watch the events unfold from such a perspective, I admit,” Celestia replied, breaking away from the railings. “I’ve heard the conditions up top are excellent today. Would you care to join me, so I could expend my time here in the most enjoyable way possible?”
“Engaging myself in sports with you around? Bah! I must decline your offer. I’ll much rather enjoy sitting here and watching you tumble down the slope like a little snowball you are.”
Celestia let out a sweet giggle, then grabbed her skis in a golden grip. “Oh, Chrysalis. Never change!” she said. “See you around, then!”
Chrysalis looked askance at Celestia sauntering away. In her predictability, she stopped by one of the abysmal reindeer to adjust its skewed bow-tie with caution and care only she was capable of.
That Celestia! Always so cordial, always so polite! Chrysalis wasn’t letting that game of appearances deceive her, though. Celestia was over one thousand years old which was more than enough time for anyone to perfect her gentle mask under which a ruthless strategist was surely lurking. She mastered diplomacy, and had extensive influences in each major nation of the known world—the Hive excluded, naturally—but for some reason she wasn’t using her power to force them all into submission. She truly believed in that harmony of hers, a concept nauseating to Chrysalis and every other sober-minded creature.
Taking one last glance at the Crystal Mountains, Chrysalis headed to a crystalline hut.
Although most creatures inside the shelter were ponies, she didn’t feel out of place. On the contrary, she felt quite on the spot. They were all chattering, laughing, hugging or otherwise expressing affection, not even aware that in doing so they produced loads of lush love energy. Ah, the tasty, delicious love. All over Equestria, so much of it would disperse into thin air if it wasn’t for brave changeling Feeders gathering these positive outbursts for the good of the Hive. An elegant alternative for kidnapping and sucking ponies dry, a method favored by the previous Queen. Chrysalis wasn’t that barbaric, or so she was told.
Of course with the Cultural Exchange Program in full swing the ponies visited the Hive of their own will, leaving streams of love energy as happy tourists they were. For a memorable taste of underground life and a bunch of pretty luminite souvenirs, the Hive received a steady income of love for the Spawning Pools in return. A deal profitable for both parties, or as Celestia would say, an act of partnership in harmony. Friendship gibberish!
“I require a glass of your finest, but reasonably priced warming beverage.”
The bartender was a crystal stallion of azure hue bearing a posture and mannerisms of any other representative of his noble profession. He switched on the coffee maker and produced a mug from under the counter. As expected, it had a smiling silhouette of a reindeer on it which Chrysalis turned to face the other way with a single swift motion.
“One Cocoa Cruise for the lady, coming!” he said. “Hey, don’t I know you from the newspapers? Wasn’t your hair orange?”
Chrysalis felt an urge to shatter the crystalline muzzle of the peasant who dared to address her in such a casual manner, but the atmosphere got the better of her. “Sorry, you must be thinking of my twin sister,” she replied. “She’s the newspaper material.”
“Ah, my bad. Blue’s looking good on you, though.”
“No worries, and thank you,” Chrysalis replied with a smile. By the ancestors, she actually smiled to a pony. What next, paying compliments?
The combination of bartender’s misguided judgment and the steady buzzing of the coffee maker certainly helped Chrysalis drift away with her thoughts, far to the south where her sorry mirror image was running the Hive. A useless caricature of a changeling, that’s what she was! Of course no one but Chrysalis was allowed to think of her clone in such a way. No, not just her clone. Her sister. Chrysalis would vanquish anyone who’d dare to talk trash about Cheersalis, and she would give not a moment’s thought in doing so. Was Celestia also so protective about Luna?
“Here’s your order, miss. Enjoy!”
“Thank you,” Chrysalis said and exchanged a couple of bits for the steaming mug of hot coffee.
She took a sip, once again making sure the reindeer was facing the other way. A pleasurable warmth filled her, spiced by delicious love energy she savored with a silent hiss. She immersed herself in bliss, momentarily forgetting about the nasty snow-covered despair outside. Her thoughts turned yet again to Cheersalis. All things considered, she wasn’t that bad, especially for a failed and pretty much illegal experiment as which she had come to be.
After about half an hour spent on absent-minded watching of ponies and non-ponies engaged in winter leisure, Chrysalis left the shelter with her mental endurance refilled. Where else could she spend the rest of her day? She frowned at the ski lifts and the slope, but before she made her mind she noticed her assistant. Winded as she was, and with cheeks now matching the shade of her scarf, Iqqel approached Chrysalis in her usual professional trot she concluded with a respectful bow.
Chrysalis nodded back. “Hello there. Anything to report?”
“Not really,” Iqqel replied. “My Queen, haven’t you been to the slopes at least once?”
“What? Of course I have. I just made a quick break, that’s all.”
“If I may, your snowboard bears no marks of ever being used. It’s still brand new and clean as it was when we were entering this facility almost an hour ago. It should at least have some snow on it.”
Chrysalis rolled her eyes. Nothing could ever escape Iqqel and her attention to details, but trying to con her was worth a shot anyway. She grabbed a pile of snow and threw it against her board, leaving a splattered pattern which began to slide down under its own mass.
“There. Are you now content?”
Iqqel shook her head. “I am not, my Queen. Although I am having fun amongst other changelings and ponies, it pains me when I see you not experiencing the same, spending your time alone instead. I’ve seen you staring blankly through the window earlier. You appeared melancholic,” she said. “Since the purpose of holidays is often to taste something we cannot have in our own habitat, I am wondering if there’s a way I could help you in getting the best of your stay here.”
“I assure you that I am, in fact, having fun,” Chrysalis replied, her face betraying quite the opposite as every single dark thought she had today surfaced to her demeanor. “How about you go to that houndrel over there and seek for weaknesses in their Confederacy in case they started barking too loud?”
“Respectfully, I must decline.”
Chrysalis groaned. There was no ire to it, more like resignation and acceptance of what was about to happen. There had been times when such insolence of a subject would be severely punished, times when advisors trembled before their sovereign’s wrath. Good times, good times. Some of the former Queens took great pride in their reigns of terror, and each of them would likely come up with ten different ways of castigating Iqqel for such an act. The current one was better than that, but she let an icy note into her voice nonetheless.
“Is that so?”
Iqqel moved her snowboard back and forth, her eyes fixed on it. “Forgive me, my Queen, I-I didn’t intend to have put it that way. What I meant was that you are, by all accounts, in top condition to partake in the activities customary to this place. Moreover, you’ve expressed great joy when Nari-Rayya brought you your new snowboard, which leads me to the most inappropriate of questions,” she said, carefully leaning towards Chrysalis. “Are you afraid of heights, slopes, or greater than average velocities, my Queen?”
“Of course not!”
“Then why are you so reluctant to join the joys of winter?”
Chrysalis let out another groan, then stuck her muzzle in her scarf and mumbled something under her breath.
“Excuse me? You need to speak up, my Queen,” Iqqel said. When Chrysalis failed to deliver an audible response yet again, she pressed on. “Again, if you please?”
“I can’t ride this stupid thing!” Chrysalis shouted, dumping her snowboard into a pile of snow. “Look at it! A plank! What’s the use of that beside fencing spiders?”
“Would you prefer skis, by any chance?”
Chrysalis’ eyes went wide. “Two planks, each with a will of its own, aiming to tear you in half the moment you touch them? Are you so keen on getting a new employer?”
“No! Never! I mean, not even in a thousand years, my Queen,” Iqqel replied, shaking her head as if she wanted to get the very prospect of such change not only out of her mind, but from the realm of possibility itself. “If you so desire I can offer some guidelines. I’ve learned how to stay in control of the plank, as you call it, during my last leave of absence.”
Chrysalis sighed. Brilliant. First Celestia, now her own advisor. How was that everyone was so good at winter sports but she was pretty much impaired? Why didn’t her ancestors choose an overground habitat? One little hill would suffice!
About a week ago back in the Hive, when Rayya of the Maker Caste approached her with a beautifully carved snowboard—sneaky Iqqel must have mentioned their holiday destination—Chrysalis simply couldn’t refuse such a gift. Her subjects knew she was taking good care of them, and they were happy to aid her endeavors, be that for the purpose of magical research, running the clusters, or simply leisure.
In the end, Chrysalis thanked Rayya for the gift and told her she’d be having a great time conquering the glaciers, fully aware she’s much more likely to use it as an ironing board. The factor she hadn’t predicted, however, was Iqqel and her ever-so-supportive attitude.
A great assistant she may be, Iqqel had one flaw. She cared way too much.
“Alright, let it be so,” Chrysalis said, lifting her snowboard to a safe distance. Only now could she appreciate its beauty, painted in the fashion of emerald flames devouring a piece of black onyx. Much like a compressed eggplant the board was slightly wider on its rear end, but also bigger than average to fit Chrysalis’ size. She looked at Iqqel. “By the way, you wake up earlier than I do, and by the time the dormant falls you’re still occupied with paperwork. When was the last time you took a leave of absence, if ever? Don't say today, it doesn't count since you're still burdened with me.”
Iqqel shrugged. “Exactly eight hundred and fifty-three days ago, why? I still feel pretty bad about it.”
Since all aerial movement over the slope was forbidden for safety reasons, Chrysalis and Iqqel took a lift to reach a point halfway to the top. Even from up there, the shelter resembled a miniature house made of small glass marbles, and even smaller ponies were busy going in and out of it. A little unsettling view, as Chrysalis didn’t like the idea of crashing into crystal which would then add a thousand more holes to her legs and wings. On the flip side, those blasted reindeer were practically unnoticeable.
Chrysalis strapped herself to the board, as instructed.
“What do I do now? My legs are constricted in these bear traps! I can hardly move!” she moaned. “You’re my advisor, Iqqel. Advise me!”
“Snowboarding one-oh-one,” Iqqel said. “First off, try to feel the board underneath you. Applying pressure to your lead hooves makes the board move.”
Chrysalis presented the motion as if she was squishing a bug. Her face and teeth mirrored it for some reason, as if she was particularly fond of squishing things.
“Very good. You can help yourself by leaning forward a bit, but the gravity should drag you downhill anyway. To slow down, compensate with pressing the side of the board which is not facing downhill. If everything else fails—”
A sound of skis shredding the snow put the lesson on hold.
“Hello again, Queen. Lili-Iqqel,” Celestia greeted them both with a nod. “Oh? I did not realize you were still learning. You should have told me, I could give you a few tips.”
Chrysalis laughed. “Me? Learning? Don’t be ridiculous! I was just—”
“—showing me how to ride it, actually,” Iqqel cut in. She then stepped on the board, finding place between the legs of the much bigger changeling queen. It was a bit awkward, but Chrysalis knew what Iqqel was after. “Am I doing it right, my Queen? I admit, I could never get a grasp on the balance aspect, but I think I understand now.”
“Indeed, you’ve inferred correctly.”
Celestia moved closer to them. “Haven’t I seen you sliding down just a minute ago?”
Iqqel shook her head. “With all due respect, Princess, you are mistaken. This is perfectly understandable, though. We changelings are very much alike.”
“I see,” Celestia said, the corners of her mouth twitching a bit. “Well then, Chrysalis, since we’re both here, how about a friendly competition? First one to reach the shelter wins. The loser pays for the beverages?”
Chrysalis snorted. “A race? Are you that childish? You honestly don’t expect me to—”
“Three-two-one, go!”
“Oh, I’ll show you!”
Chrysalis followed Celestia, slowly at first but then with more confidence as she was building up her speed. She tried pressing different sides of the board to see what would happen, and to her surprise it responded with obedience, apparently aware there was a changeling queen commanding it. What did Iqqel say earlier? Compensate with your whole body?
A voice came from under her belly.
“You’re doing very well, my Queen. Much better than my first time!”
Chrysalis looked between her legs. “Iqqel? What are you doing here?”
The changeling frowned. “You didn’t exactly let me get off, you know, and I’m not exiting at this speed either,” she said. “Besides, I figured you’d like to have someling on board to remind you that you can’t steer it.”
“I got carried away in the moment, I admit!” Chrysalis shouted over the sound of cutting through the snow. “I hereby declare you my navigator! Guide me, Iqqel!”
“You may want to bend your knees. Gah, too much! Consider not crushing me, if possible!” Iqqel shouted. “Transfer weight to your front left hoof, then to back left! See, you're turning! Now careful, you want to go to the other side, there’s an iced gouge ahead, so lean to the right! Watch out, lovers!”
Chrysalis made a sharp twist to avoid whamming over a pair of unicorns more interested in eating each other’s faces than their own safety. A flurry of unleashed snow turned them both into snowponies.
The unicorn swept the snow off her goggles. “Who dares to interrupt the Great and Affectionate—”
“Sorry!”
"Huh, maybe we should get them to the Hive," Iqqel said, glancing at the couple shrinking in the distance. "The blue one sounded pretty familiar, too."
"We're not working today! We're having fun!"
"Fun? Please define the word, my Queen."
"Humiliating Celestia at her own game, of course!"
"Figures."
There was only speed and freedom, something which Chrysalis had already experienced many times in the past. Almost every day she dived off the top of the Spire and relished the moment of wind blowing against her body shortly before spreading her wings and flying to the furthest corners of the Hive. The same cold acceleration wrapped her now, like a blanket weaved of danger itself. She didn’t even mind the snowflakes coating her muzzle. Although she couldn't use her limbs as freely as she wanted to counteract the uneven surface, she was successfully making her way downhill, guided by Iqqel and her distressful instructions.
Chrysalis looked to the side. Celestia was slaloming between other skiers like a champion, gracefully sliding from the middle of the slope to its rim and back again. She was good, Chrysalis gave her that, and had a head start and experience the changeling queen lacked. There was a slim chance of overtaking her, but to do so Chrysalis would have to come up with recklessness of legendary scale.
“Now turn left!” Iqqel shouted. Chrysalis did the opposite, steering past the flags which bordered the regular slope, trailblazing through the wild and untamed snow. “No, the other left!”
“Everything’s left if you’re seeing it right!”
“What I meant was—watch out, there’s an upward terrain inclination, dead ahead!”
“Oh, you mean that little ramp?”
“That discouragingly terrifying huge ramp of doom, to be precise!”
“Once hatched and once transformed!” Chrysalis shouted, leaning forward to gain even more speed, which in her opinion—but not Iqqel’s—was making them invincible. “You only live twice, right?”
Just before reaching the end of the line marked with several red flags, Chrysalis took a slightly skewed approach which leaned her upon launch. In a desperate attempt she wiggled her legs to at least straighten the board, but she only managed to rotate it into a flawless three hundred and sixty degrees spin. They flew up to the skies, over the heads of some affluent couple and a seemingly mismatched thestral jumping at their side.
"Aaah!"
“Woo-hoo!”
Somewhere between Iqqel's screams, Chrysalis smiled to herself, enjoying the wind whistling through her legs now that the sound of grinding the snow ceased muffling it. It turned out she was really good at riding the plank despite doing it for the first time in her relatively short life. Beginner's luck, perhaps? Of course not. She obviously was a natural hatched snowboardling.
They found themselves in a free fall. When the gravity decided it was time for them to get down once and for all, Iqqel broke away from the board, unstrapped as she was, and swirled around the changeling queen. She clenched onto her back and fluttered her wings in a frantic attempt to at least soften the fall. With her help, and Chrysalis bending her knees just in time to amortize the impact, the changelings reached the ground in one piece.
Iqqel opened her eyes. "We're still alive? Oh, thank the ancestors!" she said, forgetting that hugging and nuzzling into your sovereign's back was not in her usual code of conduct. "Wah! You can slow down, my Queen!"
"I intend to."
None too soon, Chrysalis made one last sharp turn, dangerously close to the pavement which separated the slope from the terraces. She twisted her board, the rear end hitting a fir reindeer and sending it flying. The poor thing fell to the ground, hitting the cobblestone with its head, then tumbled, only to stop at the nearest wall, lifelessly. Its crystal berry eyes fell out of their sockets and rolled away, glad to never see what terrifying discomposure happened to the antlers.
Chrysalis let out a short giggle of malignant pleasure, then gloated over the approaching Celestia with an expression of someone who just accomplished an astounding feat with great ease.
"This, Lili-Iqqel, is how you shred the snow."
Iqqel got off Chrysalis' back. She was breathing heavily, her legs shaking like a jelly due to the adrenaline still running her systems and a couple of other strange feelings overflowing her. "Th-thank you, my Queen. Your knowledge and expertise on the matter is invaluable. All glaciers will shatter before your might."
"Ah, you bested me! Congratulations!" Celestia said, sadly not discouraged or in any way affected by her second place of a total loser. She jumped off her skis. "I guess drinks are on me today, then. Any preferences?"
Chrysalis was just about to order the most expensive drink she had seen earlier—a double pinecone tea with extra cloves and syrup—at the expense of the Equestrian treasury, when from the corner of her eye she noticed Iqqel silently leaving the stage. Like any good assistant, she intended to make herself unnoticeable, like a shadow at her Queen's side.
"Not so fast," Chrysalis said to Celestia. "You're paying for both of us, correct?"
"Certainly," Celestia replied as she headed into the shelter.
"Well then, Lili-Iqqel, you've heard our benefactor. Go ahead and order up."
For a Speaker, a changeling dealing in talking, Iqqel seemed pretty lost for words, visibly embarrassed by the offer. "Oh, no, my Queen. I wouldn't want to be a burden during your meeting with the Princess! Between a changeling queen and an alicorn, I think I'll better find my place amongst the common folk."
Chrysalis shook her head. "Nonsense. You're sitting with us today. I don't want to be left alone when Celestia starts one of her endless lectures about friendship and such. Her rambling is unendurable." She leaned to Iqqel and added quietly, "I much rather prefer your rambling, to be honest. Now come on!"
Chrysalis turned away and followed Celestia into the shelter, but Iqqel stood dumbfounded for a while. She then fluttered her wings and performed a mirthful pirouette with a silly smile adorning her face. A powerful blush flooded her cheeks, but much like the sudden outburst of joy it went unnoticed by Chrysalis already preying on Celestia's purse. The Queen of the Changelings wouldn't even notice it if she had turned around, because Iqqel took a deep breath and quickly returned to her professional, leveled demeanor.
Deep inside, however, she was the happiest advisor in the history of changelings.
"Thank you, my Queen. I'd be honored to join you."
Author's Note
Hello there! Thank you for reading my story. I am no longer writing pony fiction, but if you want to support my current creative endeavor, check out my content on Twitch! 
