The Marriage of Princess Cadance to House Sparkle

The hardest part came far too soon.

This should have been a private affair. It should have been only a few of his closest gathered together to bare our grief to each other, to try to find strength to go on without him. Instead it was a colossal arrangement, bigger than the Equestria Games, all of it standing in the way, standing between me and him, lying there in that open coffin that I just wanted to climb inside and pull shut above us.

I wanted to break down, like Mama Twily, who clung to Night Light as she blurted out loud, heaving sobs of broken motherhood. Night Light held her tightly in his arms, stroking a hoof through her mane, whispering to her that she was doing well, that she could make it through the ceremony, that it would be one day at a time but that they had each other.

I picked him well, I think for an idle second before tearing myself back to the moment. I take hold of my grief like a torch and stab it into my chest to feel its full strength for as long as it can last, to make sure I remember what matters, to blind myself to the huge procession of dignitaries walking past, diplomats, officials, soldiers, and the full population of the Crystal Empire come to mourn the passing of their beloved Prince Shining Armor.

It was a political funeral, Celestia had said. It had to be public. It couldn't be just him and me, and his parents and his siblings sitting alone in a quiet parlor, weeping and hugging and telling stories about the greatest stallion in the world, that only we were blessed enough to have known and recognized. Instead we had this, this choreographed absurdity covering the Empire, so similar to the sporting event we'd recently hosted in its logistics and management.

I should not have to think of my husband's funeral in terms of logistics. But thanks to Aunt Celestia I now did, and I hated her for that.

A sniffle just to my right made me turn and see Twilight, trying and failing to keep herself under control. Spike stood beside her, awkward and uncomfortable in a black suit: ever the faithful assistant, he wanted to comfort her but didn't know how. Nor did he understand his own feelings about the loss of a brother he knew he should love, but never really knew.

Twilight had to wear a dress and her royal regalia, as she was technically here as an emissary from the Principality of Ponyville, and her head was hanging low and her legs shaking as she struggled to stay still. Her tears were pouring out and leaving dark streaks on her muzzle. She raised her head and our eyes met, and I could see she was thinking the same thing as me:

Nopony else can possibly know what I'm feeling except you.

And then we were clutching each other tightly as the dam burst and we both let out our pain in hulks and sobs and screams of hurt that only heartbroken mares can make.

“I,” Twilight tried to say between sobs, her voice cracked and broken and weak, “I miss him so much...”

I held her tighter in response, letting my hooves speak for me. I closed my eyes, unable, in any case, to see through my tears, and took solace in our closeness, in the feel of Twily's coat against my legs.

I was covered in black, only my fetlocks exposed, and she wore a dress along with all her royal regalia. Perhaps, if we were not covered in empty symbols of state and station, if we were not separated by sheets of fabric that kept our coats from touching, we would feel better. Another detail I could blame on Aunt Celestia.

I could not speak. Celestia had wanted me to, but it was simply not going to happen, and she had yielded. She stood now before the crowd, below the massive crystal casket upon its bier beneath the Crystal Heart and told them all about Shining Armor, guardian, caretaker, judge and peacemaker; beloved husband, brother, and son; and loving father to his adopted nation.

Her speech was exactly what the occasion called for, perfect in every way, and captured everything we all loved about him. Everything except for the things I alone knew, things I could never share with another living soul, things I would carry with me in my heart to the end of immortality.

Celestia spoke to me as she walked past afterward, in soft words that only I could hear:

“You have to tell Twilight, Cadance. Bring it out in the open. You know you do.”

With those words, my thoughts began to fly.