"Honestly, Your Highness?" Abacus Cinch cocked her head, but her mane scarcely moved, the bun it was coiled into so tight and perfect, Shining Armor was sure some sort of industrial lacquer had to be involved. "I would've expected you to have more pressing issues on your docket than serving tea to an old civil servant." She smiled, but Armor had seen warmer expressions on the faces of thugs he'd dealt with during his days patrolling Canterlot's seedier neighborhoods.
Cadance's smile, on the other hoof, showed that she was every inch the Sun's niece. "Not at all, Ms. Cinch." Her hornglow surrounded the teapot, the afternoon light shimmering crisply through the conservatory's roof. "My role here in the Crystal Empire is to be of service to those who lived through—" Cadance filled their guest's cup "—the unpleasantness."
"Unpleasantness." Cinch took a soundless sip of tea. "What a charming way of putting it."
"Oh, forgive me, Ms. Cinch!" Cadance became the very image of contrition. "I certainly don't mean to belittle the suffering you must've experienced during those dreadful years!"
The tiniest trace of an actual smile pulled at the crystal mare's snout, and Armor put another check in the 'yes' column of his mental list. He'd been skeptical when he'd first heard the name Abacus Cinch from Twilight, and learning that she'd worked for so many years as a palace accountant had only deepened his doubts. But as soon as he'd laid eyes on Cinch herself, he'd known that today's tea party would be nothing like the many he'd taken part in before, helping Cadance comfort weeping ponies who were just now coming to grips with their returning memories of Sombra's nightmarish reign. "Don't concern yourself, Your Highness," Cinch said. "I'm just happy it's behind me."
"Behind us all." Cadance nodded. "Have you attended any of the meetings that the Truth and Reconciliation Commission has been holding around the Empire? They're doing such wonderful work, giving those who once served Sombra a safe space in which to come forward, make amends, and begin the healing process."
Because he was looking for it, Armor caught the tightening of Cinch's thin lips. "Now I must ask you to forgive me, Your Highness," she said, "but I can't admit to having any great faith in the ability of ponies to change their stripes, as it were."
"Really?" Cadance's gaze flickered toward him. "My husband sometimes expresses a similar sentiment."
Taking his cue, Armor shrugged. "Any ponies who step up, admit their crimes, and sincerely mean to reform their lives, I'll be right there doing everything I can to support them. But, well, I'm not holding my breath for ponies like Sombra's second-in-command, the mare they called Chisel. If even half the accounts the Commission's gathered about her are true..." He tried to keep the edge out of his voice and fixed his eyes on Cinch's, partially-hidden behind her half-glasses. "And the worst part? We don't know what she looked like, what her cutie mark was, nothing. It's like nopony who met her face to face ever survived to tell the tale."
Cinch raised her cup and sipped it again. "A pity."
"Yes." Cadance gave another of her perfect smiles. "Still, Ms. Cinch, are you familiar with my sister-in-law?"
"Princess Twilight?" A twitch pulled the corner of Cinch's eye. "She played an integral part in keeping Your Highness on His Majesty's throne, did she not?"
Armor checked every other box in his 'yes' column, and only his promise to follow Cadance's lead in this matter kept him from slapping a shield around Cinch right there and then. "She was instrumental," Cadance was saying. "But lately she's been taking journeys through a magic mirror into a world much like our own."
"Fascinating." Cinch sounded as if she'd rather be talking about bugs.
"And even more fascinating?" Cadance's tone made Armor think of syrup. "We all have duplicates living different lives in this alternate world! Canterlot is a school, and my aunts are its principals! Twilight even met her other self and heard all about my duplicate!"
Something like a smirk pulled Cinch's snout. "The principal of some crystal-themed school, I presume?"
"Oddly, no." All trace of Cadance's humor vanished. "The principal of Crystal Prep is named Abacus Cinch."
Armor had never seen a pony go as still as Cinch did.
"And once I discovered," Cadance continued, "that somepony by that name has been working here in the palace since the days of King Sombra, well—" For the first time in his life, Armor felt a chill looking at his beloved "—I felt we should talk."
"I see." Cinch set down her cup. "And in what direction do you propose to take this talk, Your Highness?"
"That, Ms. Cinch, is entirely your choice."
"Choice?" Their guest barked a laugh. "What exactly are my options? Confess or deny that I share a name with some magical mirror being?"
Gritting his teeth, Armor leaned toward her. "Are you Chisel?"
"I'm an accountant." She folded her hooves on the table. "Am I being arrested?"
As much as Armor wanted to shout 'yes,' he just puffed a breath through his nostrils and sat back.
"On the contrary," Cadance said, and Armor wished he could lock this Abacus Cinch up for the unforgivable crime of making his wife's beautiful voice go so quiet and flat. "Whoever you are, you have a place here in the Crystal Empire. And any time you'd like to discuss your past—"
This time, Cinch's laugh sounded more like the sharp cawing of a crow. "When the only witness against me apparently lives in some other universe?" A sneer crackled Cinch's face, but it vanished when Armor leaped to his hooves. "Again, Your Highness," Cinch said, her eyes clenching, "forgive an old mare for speaking intemperately." Those eyes came open, and Armor saw nothing there: not mockery or disdain or even weariness. "May I return to my duties?"
"You always have choices, Ms. Cinch." Cadance stood. "Thank you for coming."
Her expression still empty, Cinch rose and trotted out of the conservatory.
The silence went on till Armor couldn't stand it, and as much as he didn't want to start the argument up again, he said, "I'm assigning a third plainclothes guard to watch her."
"She'll come around." Her attention fixed on the doorway, Cadance shivered so slightly, Armor didn't think any pony other than him would have noticed; he moved quickly to her side and leaned into her as she leaned into him. "She will," she more whispered than said. "I know it." Her head tucked against his neck. "But yes: a third guard."
