Prince Blueblood stood before the princess' apartment two evenings after his discussion with Queen Celestia. In all frankness, he really didn't want to see the decrepit mare, much less comfort her like Celestia insinuated over their dinner. But who was a Blueblood to refuse their god-queen ~~eternal~~? Sighing, the colt pushed the door open and quietly clicked it shut behind him.

Philomena sat silently on the desk chair, gazing through the window at the comings-and-goings of the royal staff. She turned her head around to glance Blueblood the Younger, and he in turn bowed slightly in greeting. She then fluffed her feathers and continued to look outside in silence. The princess lay in bed with her back to both of them.

He exhaled softly, wanting to turn tail and leave. He could just say she was asleep, right? Prince Blueblood glanced between the door and his aunt before swallowing.

True: he could just pretend that he had at least made some modicum of effort to comfort the princess (not that she ever done him such a kindness in the past), but in the end, he let go of the thought. Queen Celestia would, in due time, give him the weight of the Sun, Moon, and Equus. If he couldn't even do this, then how could he expect himself to handle such burdens?

Blueblood the Younger went to his aunt's bed.

Her eyes were closed, thank the—

She twitched and opened her eyes.

Oh ponyfeathers.

Blueblood the Elder did not acknowledge him: she did not speak to him, she did not turn to him, nor did she did look at him. She merely gazed ahead at the wall her bed was pressed against.

Her nephew opened his mouth to speak, but a brief look from Philomena silenced him.

Fine. Princess Blueblood would lead the conversation, if she so pleased. Prince Blueblood, on the other hoof, would join Philomena on the desk chair.

The colt sat stroking the phoenix as they pony-watched their servants down below.

At last, after who knew how long, the princess addressed him.

"It's been a long time since the queen has granted me the privilege of guarding me in my sleep."

"I figured she was with you," he shrugged. "I was in her apartment by myself last night."

"Did you tell her to speak with me?"

"I told her to spend some time with you," he admitted. "I didn't expect her to spend the night with you."

She scoffed. "This is precisely why I told you not to get her involved. She spent the entire evening with me instead of tending to her nation."

"Considering all the work she does all the time, I think she can take an evening off once in awhile," he snapped. "Not even my hardest teachers assign homework every night."

"Hmph. The queen has more pressing matters beyond algebra and intermediate theory, but I suppose you are correct in that regard, nephew."

"Princess?"

"What?"

"Were you always like this?"

She stiffened. "In what regard, colt? There are many facets to a pony, you know."

Blueblood the Younger rolled his eyes as if she asked the stupidest question. "Were you always a miserable, mean, bitter, horrible, and lonely mare?" he clarified.

"Raw!" Philomena barked as she whipped around to look at him in anger.

The princess closed her tired eyes in a grimace. "Do not fight my battles for me, Philomena," she murmured. "Let him speak his piece."

The phoenix glowered at the decrepit mare before nipping her way out of the colt's hooves. She flew up onto the armoire and gazed down at both the princess and the prince.

"Why don't you talk to anyone besides the queen and I?" Blueblood the Younger asked. "Is it because everypony else hates you?"

"Yes," she answered without pause. "Anypony who tried to be my 'friend,' I made them hate me." She opened her mouth as if she wanted to add to her confession, but then she closed her mouth.

"Oh for Tambelon's sake— I hate when ponies aren't direct! Just say it!" he demanded.

"Then get used to it, brat!" Princess Blueblood snapped. "We are Blueblood. The day ponies start being direct with us is the day when Equus ends!"

"Twilight was direct with me!" he argued back. "She was great! She was everything anypony could want in a friend until you had to ruin it. Sunset's nice, too! Should I make her hate me to be just like you?!"

At last, she sat up. "You are making it extremely difficult for me to restrain myself," the decrepit mare growled through her dentures.

He stood up abruptly, causing the desk chair to fall back and clatter on the floor.

"Then don't!" he shouted at her. "Nightmare— mmm!"

"Be silent!" she hissed. "Do you want the whole castle to hear you?!"

He glared at her.

She glared back.

"Alright, nephew," she sneered. "You really want me to speak my piece, then fine. However, you must not speak unnecessarily or I will make you silent. Am I clear?"

He nodded and the princess undid her spell.

"The truth is... the lineage of the Bluebloods is cursed."

The prince opened his mouth to say something, but quickly stopped himself.

The princess sank back down in her bed and closed her eyes.

"The curse began with our grandmother, has been passed down the line from princess to prince and will never stop until our line ends."

"What is the curse, princess?"

"From the moment you took your vows before the nation, you ceased to be an individual. Now, all you are is a title."

"Raw," Philomena warned as she glared down at the mare.

Both ponies ignored her.

"So it was when Bluebell became Celestia's first potential successor, so it was with Bluebloods past, so it is with me. So it will be with you."

The phoenix fluttered down onto the bed and brought her head close to the princess. Her cold golden eyes pierced through the mare's own.

"Just leave her alone, Philomena," the prince muttered. "Let her say what she wants."

She whipped her intense gaze to him, causing him to look away.

"Raw!" she snapped as she flew to the window. Without assistance, she undid the latch, and angrily shoved the glass panes open. With one more look of disgust to the insufferable pair, she flew off.

Fine. They could tear themselves to pieces. What did she care?

Blueblood the Younger watched her until she disappeared. "When you told me to make Twilight hate me... have you done that before?"

"Yes," the princess verified. "I have. Ponies with far more ambition and far less kindness than the Sparkle have pushed me to do that."

"Nopony forced you to do anything."

She gave him a barking laugh. "You are young yet, nephew, but you will learn. You are nothing to ponies but an opportunity to further themselves, you are some young filly's fantasy of 'Prince Charming,' you are some young colt's dream of getting palace connections. As Blueblood, you will never find happiness, only heartbreak as pony after pony tries to use you for everything that you're worth."

He narrowed his blue eyes. "You're wrong. Sunset's not like that."

She turned her tired eyes in his direction. "As Blueblood, you will never find happiness. I cannot say the same for Blue Heart. Tell me, nephew: does that mage-in-training know who you really are?"

He looked down at his hooves.

"Hmph," she grunted. "Then may she be merciful when she does."

"Sunset will be different than all those other ponies you've dealt with," the prince insisted.

"Believe what you want, boy," Blueblood the Elder responded with a flippant tone. "But a word of advice: beware of mares. Should you ever have to inflict your title unto somepony else, be sure to your inform your successor of that. Unless she is female, then tell her to be wary of stallions. Now get out and leave me to convalesce in peace."

Author's Note

Please point out any typos.

Cats seem to have a vendetta against productivity. Every single time I try to write something, she always comes mewling and whining for attention, only to run away when I try to give it to her, only for me to ignore her, only for her to come mewling and whining for attention, only to...