Chapter 3

As the night waxed on, Fleur, Fancy and Blueblood found themselves moving in a smaller room off the atrium, as well as a couple dozen other of the guests, to get away from the crowded bustle of the rest of the party. The usual couches were set up around the room, with about two or so ponies to each one. Unfortunately, Blueblood and Fancy found themselves at a table directly across from Golden Gavel and Upper Crust.

Other than that, though, it seemed to be going well. The wine was flowing freely, the shisha smoke was sweet and not too thick yet, and the food was as fine as ever. The company, however, was getting less pleasant by the minute.

“So, your Grace, how’re you and your... companion doing tonight? Well, I hope? After all, this is quite the splendid party.” Golden lay on his stomach, delicately taking short draws from a nearby hookah and aiming the smoke so that it drifted towards Fancy’s direction.

“We’re doing fine, thank you.” replied Fancy graciously, ignoring the small clouds of aromatic smoke floating lazily towards his nose. He looked around the room with an admiring smile, taking in the gorgeous mosaic tiles on the floor, the bright paintings on the ceiling and walls, the rich velvet curtains that hung across the windows. “Purple really keeps this place pristine.”

Golden snickered, setting the hookah hose aside, and rose from his couch, walking towards the middle of the room. “Yes, he does.” He said, disdain seeping into his tone. “Not a spot of dirt anywhere. Shame the same can’t be said for you, eh?”

The whole room went silent dead, eyes darting back and forth between each other. Blueblood stiffened, then rose from his couch, followed by Fleur. What did he know, they both wondered. They both knew Fancy didn’t do anything Golden could use as blackmail. Did he? Fleur readied herself to help her lover make a hasty exit if anything nasty went down.

Fancy, however, remained lying on his couch, his eyebrow raised. “Golden, what in Equestria are you talking about? I don’t have any dirt for you to find.”

“What about your little affair with Blueblood?” He said smugly, eyeing the Chancellor with narrowed eyes. He glanced over at Fleur, “Terribly sorry you had to find out like this, but your dear Fancy has been screwing the royal fop over here.”

Fancy froze, then let a smirk spread across his muzzle. “That’s not a secret, you moron. Fleur is perfectly aware of what I do with Blueblood behind closed doors. And likewise, I’m perfectly aware of who she sees behind closed doors.” He nodded towards Fleur, who returned it with a vicious smile in Golden’s direction. “And everypony else knows Blueblood is one of my oldest friends, as well as about my public relationship with Fleur. Look around you! Nopony is surprised.” Golden glanced around to find his audience mostly wearing a rather bored expression. “This is the sort of thing that’s only sensational to second-rate tabloids, not a cause for national scandal. You have nothing on me.”

Golden Gavel was agape, floundering for a response, while Fleur sank back down onto her couch with a sigh of relief. After spending several seconds impersonating a dying fish, he managed to point a hoof towards the grey mare sitting in the corner. “Maybe not you, but what about her? She fucked her brother, after all!”

Octavia choked on her glass of wine, the glass falling to the floor and rolling away, leaving a trail of dark red behind. “How the fuck did you-” She stopped at the looks the other nobles in the room sent her, ranging from shock to indifferent surprise to mild disgust, and shrank back against her couch.

The moment of silence was broken by Atia’s indignant screech. “You did what with Octavian?!” The older mare practically flew off her couch, stopping until she was barely a few feet away from her daughter. “I can’t believe you, you, you... stupid little hussy! He’s just barely of age!”

Octavia finally seemed to recover her voice, her eyes narrowing with anger as she glared at her mother. “Don’t look at me like that, mother! What with your evening visits from Lieutenant Midnight Blossom? What about the time you suggested Octavian seduce his cousin to get a closer alliance with his branch of the family? You’re hardly a paragon of purity yourself!”

Atia kept the same indignant expression, clearly unruffled by the accusations. “First of all, said Lieutenant is a Lunar Guard officer, not some common infantry grunt from the provinces. She’s a perfectly respectable lover, after all, as well as a valuable ally. As for the little debacle with Silver Brooch, need I remind you his branch of the family was trying to destroy us, so forgive me for making a suggestion to flirt with incest instead of potential parricide. As it is, we’re lucky that little feud was nipped in the bud before it could escalate.”

“The reason that feud existed in the first place is because you humiliated his mother in front of half the city!”

“Well, it’s not my fault the bitch overreacted! I was just trying to put her in her place as a lesser member of-”

“Overreacted? Mother, you had ‘Ruby Brooch is a whore’ graffitied over every plebeian restaurant, club, and squalid little dive bar in the city!”

“Well, it’s the truth, isn’t it? She’s not a patrician, she’s just a rich whore with a longer pedigree than her butler’s cock-”

Fleur cut them off, rising from her seat with a scowl. “Atia, Octavia. Do us a favour and kindly shut up. We have worse problems than your family squabbles.” Octavia almost immediately quieted, while Atia made a show of attempting to protest, before finally settling down with a beady glare. “Thank you.” She turned to the stallion who had revealed the secret, and began slowly clapping her hooves together. “Congratulations Gavel, you’ve just revealed your trump card to the entire room before you could use it to launch a scandal. How tremendously stupid of you. Tell me, how exactly were you planning to prove this happened? How much do you think it’s really going to hurt us?”

Golden Gavel sneered, eyeing Fleur as if she was a miniscule piece of dirt to be swept from the floor. “I have proof. I paid Atia’s cook to get information on anything sordid, and he delivered.”

“Damn that bastard unicorn! He’ll be lucky if I don’t use his horn as a strap-”

“Atia, quiet. This is not the time.”

“Listen, you jumped-up pleb, will you let me be angry for five sec-”

“No, you may not.” Fleur commanded, shooting Atia another glare until the mare sat back down, looking sulky. “Right then.” She turned to Golden once again. “Alright, so you can prove it. What does it matter? Incest between patricians? We have a half-drunken, sex-addled pervert as a prince— don’t look at me like that, Blueblood, you know it’s true— and he’s still somehow competent and liked. Do you honestly think a minor scandal is going to break the coalition in the Senate? Because if so, you must assume the people are just as indulged in snobbish prudery as the rest of you.”

“It’s not the people I care about. It’s the rest of the Senate. Tell me, how many do you think are going to be on your side once I reveal the rest of the dirt on your coalition, hmm? Oh, and I know there is enough.”

“We’ll just have to respond with dirt of our own, then,” responded Blueblood, looking surprisingly cheerful. “By the way, how’s that wife of yours doing, Golden? Swan Song, if I remember right?” His smile had just the tiniest hint of menace in it. “Pretty hat, gorgeous flank, is usually left at home while you sneak out to Rosy’s ‘House of Earthly Delights’ in a little corner of Point Road?”

Golden stiffened, glaring daggers at Blueblood. “Maybe it was somepony who looked curiously like me you found. You never know what kind of degenerates would impersonate nobility for sordid deeds. Plebs, pretending to be ponies of quality! Funny how these things do happen.”

“Yes, how funny.” Blueblood wasn’t laughing. He just kept the same cheerful little smile with a touch of poison in his eyes, boring into Golden’s. “I think you’ll find what counts as ponies of quality can vary greatly.”

Golden refused to shrink from Blueblood’s unwavering gaze. “Yes, it does. After all, I’m speaking to you as an equal, as if you were, in fact, a stallion of quality, and not a drink-sodden, sex-crazed wastrel that makes whatever funds dearest Auntie gives you disappear.”

Fleur saw what was likely about to happen, as did Fancy, and quickly moved forward to Blueblood’s side, in case he tried to do anything stupid. The prince’s eyes were closed, as if trying to shut out what he was hearing. Golden saw the opportunity, and just continued with vicious glee. “You are certainly not without accomplishments, of course. After all, our navy was sorely in need of yet more undisciplined sots who can almost figure out which way to aim a ship without crashing it. I do remember your crowning achievement was capturing those pirates off the coast of Manehatten. Well done! You managed to do what any captain with a working sense of direction could, and got rewarded with a nice little office in the Admiralty building. I hope the lack of sailors in your office is suiting you- too much masculinity in such a small space must’ve been simply dreadful.” Golden tilted his head a little, his smug, pristine smile begging to have a gap or two in it. “But then again, the feminine role has always suited you better, hasn’t it?”

If Fleur and Fancy hadn’t been at his side, Blueblood would’ve most likely ended up introducing Golden Gavel to the gourmet taste of horseshoes and floor tiles. As it was, he made no sound, his body trembling, his eyes still clenched shut. He wasn’t quite ready to explode, but he was pretty damned close.

Fleur found herself, for once, feeling bad for the stallion, and instinctively a hoof through his mane. “Don’t worry.” she muttered. “We’ll make sure to give him a taste of his own medicine later.” Blueblood still said nothing, but his trembling soon ceased, though she could tell he was still tense. She glanced over at Fancy, who looked torn between hugging Blueblood and blasting Golden across the room. Before she could get another word in, Golden made the wonderfully idiotic choice to open his mouth again.

“Thank you for proving my point, your Highness. I wasn’t expecting dear Lady Fleur to be giving you any comfort, but I suppose the prettiest whores tend to stick together-”

Blueblood’s eyes snapped open, eyeing Golden Gavel with nigh-unbridled fury. “You’ve got a way with words, Lord Gavel. It’d be a pity if your wagging tongue found itself silenced. Tell me, do all ‘stallions of quality’ try to upset their rivals like a petty schoolyard bully with an inferiority complex, or is it just you?”

“Inferiority complex? I’m not the one upset by a few little words. Surely a stallion of such an ancient lineage as yours can deal with a little conversation without making a spectacle of yourself.” He glanced around at the ponies surrounding them, who had by now moved to the far corners of the room to watch. “Well, too late for that, anyhow. My sincerest apologies.”

Blueblood appeared to be readying himself to teach this... pony a lesson, but only just managed to restrain himself. He closed his eyes once more, took a deep breath, and gave Golden the biggest, most blinding smile that could possibly fit his muzzle without breaking a jaw. “Very well. I see I have made a spectacle of myself, and for that, I apologise. I think I’ll be leaving soon- the air here has gotten far too stifling.” Golden sported a victorious grin, knowing he had humiliated Blueblood so badly he had to leave, and raised a cup in a mocking toast. But the prince was not done yet.

“Before we go, allow me to offer you a hug, as a sign of peace. No hard feelings, eh, my Lord?”

Golden Gavel froze, his eyebrows raised suspiciously. Fleur smiled to herself, watching the prince carefully. Blueblood wasn’t going to attack Golden in full view of the public, she knew that much, but this was still fishy. Well, she’d find out what his game was soon enough.

Golden nodded, still on his guard. “Very well. You may do so, your Highness.” But I’m going to make sure there’s no knife to stab in my back, was the unspoken implication.

Blueblood simply smiled and walked up to Golden, pulled him into an overly-enthusiastic hug, and leaned close to his ear. “You dare humiliate me like that again,” he whispered, squeezing the other stallion’s barrel tighter for extra emphasis, “And you’ll find yourself humbled twice as much. Do you understand me?” With that, Blueblood released him, the same painful-looking smile on his face as he looked at a shaken Golden. “Good evening, Lord Gavel. May fortune smile on you.”

“G-good evening to you, too, Prince Blueblood.” Golden stammered out, turning away and taking a quick gulp from his cup. With his head raised high, Blueblood turned around and headed towards Fleur and Fancy, “Let’s go, if you don’t mind. I think I’ve overstayed my welcome.” He gave Fleur a small smile. “After all, we prettiest whores,” He spat the words out with enough venom to poison a cobra, “Must stick together, eh?” Fleur nodded, sharing a brief look with Blueblood. It was a look that said Somepony’s going to pay for that, and I’ll help you do it.

Fancy finally took the opportunity to move to Blueblood’s side, his eyes slightly red. “Blue, I’m so sorry for not saying anything. I didn’t know he was going to do that, and when he did, I-”

Blueblood raised a hoof to Fancy’s lips, a few tears prickling at his eyes but refusing to spill over. “I know. It’s not your fault, it’s that bastard Golden. Don’t blame yourself for this. Just.. let’s go, okay? And tell the Sparkles, the Philharmonicas, anypony friendly the party’s being moved to your house, okay? Think you can manage a dozen or so guests tonight? I’d hate to impose, but I...” He sighed, rubbing his temples. “I just need a fucking drink, some good hemp, and pleasant company that’s not going to bitch about me behind my back, alright?”
Fancy looked at Fleur with his tell-tale pleading expression, glancing between her and Blueblood. “Come on, he’s had a rough night. Surely we could-”

“No. It’s nearly ten o’ clock! How are we going to make arrangements this late for a whole party?”

“Please, my lily? I’ll make the arrangements myself, and it’ll be a small party. You don’t need to trouble yourself with it.”

“Fine, but you’re paying for it.” Fleur huffed. Secretly, she was happy the party was being moved to a much more friendly atmosphere; but at the same time, she didn’t want to have to deal with the arrangements of food, drink and music this time of night. And she was still smarting from being called a whore just from comforting Blueblood for a moment. After all, she wasn’t exactly fond of Blueblood, even if her lover was.

Still, her sense of kindness won out, and she offered Blueblood a restrained smile. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry that happened to you. Nopony should have to put up with that insufferable little git.”

He gave her a lopsided grin in return, with a little bow added for extra effect. “Not even me, eh? Thank you, Lady Fleur. You are, as always, a lily among thorns.”

She wrinkled her nose, but didn’t brush off the compliment as usual. Instead, she just gave a small nod of gratitude. “You’re too kind.”

Out of nowhere, Blueblood’s muzzle broke into a magnificently wicked grin. “Not as kind as I should, I think. Golden ought to have checked his cup before he drank again.”

Fancy’s brow furrowed, looking slightly alarmed. “Blue, you didn’t...?”

“I did.”

“Blue, you idiot, they’re all going to know it was you when he-”

“My dear Fancy, there are far more embarrassing things than death, and none of them remotely lethal. Rest assured, he will not lose life or limbs at my hand. His dignity, however, is an entirely different story.” He glanced back towards Golden, who was currently chatting with members of his own clique, sporting a smile menacing enough to make a timberwolf cower. “You’ll find out in the morning how. For now, let’s just gather up our friends and be on our way, shall we?”

With that, the three of them, with the Sparkles, the Philharmonicas, and a few others in tow, left the party to begin another one. The night was still young, after all.

Author's Note

In case there's any confusion, I'd like to clarify a few things. The society presented here is outwardly sex-positive; but only in certain contexts and between those of the same or similar station. Secret affairs are still scandalous and damaging, as is incest between immediate blood relatives. Orgies in this world are after the ancient world model; they are both the typical sex party, as well as a religious rite dedicated to the local divinity of merriment and debauchery (in this case, Bacchus), and are thus regulated and have some degree of social respectability. If there is any other questions, please ask them in the comments!