I hate the Gryphon Ambassador; he was ambitious at the best of times, and downright warmongering at the worst of times. Thankfully he wasn't here to hear the "laughing incident," but he seemed suspicious. He arrived around 11, a few hours after the incident.

He has been going on about "Poor game" this, and "No suitable farmland" that. He just wants me to give him money, or farmland. They actually tried to take it from me once, around 600 years ago. Once.

Our relations cooled significantly since, thankfully. Apparently having the Archduke assassinated in broad daylight put the fear of me back into them.

Recently, however, they claim to be falling on harder times than ever before— hence his visit. I know for a fact that they have a very wealthy merchant class, though. I even had to impose some large, unofficial tariffs to stop a large portion of our goods from fleeing our borders.

Normally, I didn't like using highwaymen, but it offers me the ability to claim ignorance. Plus, this solution allowed me to keep the stolen goods (not that the royal coffers needed expanding). Thankfully, I made it so that only licensed mercenaries could accompany merchants 500 years ago, meaning I could keep the casualties to a minimum and still have a believable resistance.

I'll admit, it wasn't one of our finest fixes, but it served multiple purposes. If I let the goods flee our country, then I run a risk of driving up prices to the point of damaging our economy as well. The House of Commons would start rabble-rousing, and the House of Nobles would demand I “put the peons in their place.” The last time the price of grain rose a haypenny, I had at least thirty ministers breathing down my neck constantly.

Not to mention, the Gryphons would likely ignore the fact that there is practically no tariff on exports to them— a benefit that even some Equestrian colonies didn’t get. They would only see that I hadn’t sent enough goods to them, and be upset anyway. With this solution, I get the approval (on paper, anyway) of the Gryphon King, and risk nothing in my own economy.

Luna wouldn't approve... but she doesn't need to know about our dear ambassador's visit anyway. She would have suggested either helping them directly or outright refusing, and either option would be too costly. She loathed my backroom dealings, but they keep Equestria happy and healthy, and her rabble-rousing would be… inconvenient.

"Your Majesty!" squawked the ambassador, ruffling his chest feathers. "Please, you need to do something about these bandits! My people are starving, and we can't mobilize our small police force to help because they never cross our border!"

I leaned back, putting on my best "Imperial Ruler" look. "I assure you, Ambassador Goldbeak, I am doing all that I can to find these bandits. I have already moved a whole brigade to scour the countryside. I can move no more forces to the border without violating the treaty that I wrote."

"I understand... Your Eminence." He knew, I think. He certainly acted like he thought I was behind it.

I switched to my best "We both know, but you can't stop me" smile. "So how is your daughter, Ambassador? Grizelda, was it?"

The color drained from his face, along with the defiant anger. If he wanted to get testy with me, I could push right back. I wouldn’t need to act on that thinly veiled threat, because he knew I had him by the metaphorical scrotum.

"S-she's fine, Your Majesty. She graduated from your "Junior Speedsters Camp" three years ago, and she's attending Cloudsdale University. She's trying to follow my example," he said, hanging his head.

So dramatic! It almost seems like he believes the "Sun Tyrant" line, himself. Do I really give off the impression that I would kill an innocent just to shut an ambassador up? Surely, he must know his muck-raking is such a non-issue that I would never risk tarnishing my name?

"Well," I said, slightly adjusting my crown, "I hope she makes for as good a conversation partner as you!" I said, actually meaning it. Most ambassadors were rather cut and dry, but Goldbeak was actually funny (when he started out, at least). I do miss the days when I argued passionately with firebrand Gryphon ambassadors, but the chances of war became too great. I will always place Equinity above my personal amusement.

"Thank you, Your Majesty. I hope she is far wiser than I was," he said, standing from his cushion. "Good day, Your Majesty." As he walked past, I swear I heard him whisper "Sun Tyrant" under his breath.

I want to make that phrase sedition, but I know it would only play into their favor. Martyrs look better for a cause than annoying gnats buzzing around ineffectually.

As he left the waiting room, I looked around. Maybe the cries of despot weren't so far off? Marble floors, silk cushions, mahogany tables, gilded columns, and a vast, beautiful garden just outside. None of it is strictly necessary, and all of it was paid for on the back of the taxpayer. Nopony really seems to object to it, at least, in Equestria. The other provinces, though, they do not care for it.

And don't even get me started on the foreigners...

"Your Majesty."

Ah, it was another guardspony. I was really starting to dislike them, necessary as they may be. Not to mention that they all looked the same, making them really hard to distinguish, let alone remember their names. Thankfully, I could refer to them by rank and not seem impersonal and callous.

"Sergeant, report."

The bronze-clad guard saluted, and proceeded to remove a scroll from his armor using magic. "Here's the preliminary report from Major Stout Shield, Ma'am."

I plucked it from the air, reading it quickly. Apparently the fireball dissipated before it reached the town, and there were no casualties or property damage. There was nothing of interest to follow, but the town still needed defending until we got some reliable intelligence.

I conjured my sealing wax and stamp, resealed it, and handed it to the Sergeant. "See to it that my sister reads this— and be quick, Sergeant. I want us to be able to act swiftly if something goes wrong."

He saluted and briskly trotted away, leaving me alone in the lavish sitting room.

The noonday sun bombarded Castle Canterlot, causing its defenders to take to the cover of shade, lest they risk a burn from the sun's fiery rays. Her defenders were stalwart and stoic, though some flinched upon seeing the balcony to the Tower Firmamental.

It was the second tallest tower, next to the Donjon itself. The Tower Firmamental lay to the west of the palace, with the balcony set in the perfect position to observe the setting sun. Normally, this tower's occupant rose shortly before the sun set. Today, however, her sleep was fitful. She stood at the edge of the balcony, looking out over the daytime proceedings of her nation's capital.

Princess Luna, Regent of the Moon— Taker of Lives and Harbinger of Sleep, felt doubt. She had been a battlefield commander the likes of which the world had never seen before— or since. Yet here, amongst the descendants of valiant and brutal knights, the nobility were like insects to her.

Infantile weaklings reduced to inbreeding to "maintain the purity of their blood," totally oblivious of the fact that in her time, they shed blood with peons. They were once worthy of their titles, having actually been noble at one point, though now they acted like spoiled children!

None were ready for battle, and few could meet the demands of a levy. Gone were the halcyon days of warrior leaders; in their place were duplicitous snakes, waiting for the opportune moment to strike. Most also wore their distaste for her on their sleeve— like a badge of honor.

This lack of civility called her to question her sister, but her fear (alongside self-doubt) crippled her tongue.

Her memories were hazy, and her mind felt as if it wanted to tell her something— yet she hesitated. She knew what this feeling was, and she had no interest to pursue it. The Night-Mare; a title she once bore (though she could not, for her own life, remember why she stopped using it). A part of her own mind that had been separated from her, and altered massively by the Elements.

Her sister had told her that these were only dark thoughts and emotions, and that she should refrain from touching them for her mental health and safety. Now, however, she wasn't so sure; her sister's leadership in her absence proved to be quite under-hoofed, and her memories had become disjointed and scrambled. This was troubling, as Alicorns could never forget, and it took a massive force to alter their memories (like the Elements of Harmony).

Such thoughts were seditious, however, and her sister had made it clear that she would be afforded little leeway. Luna feared her sister, but now—

"Your Majesty?"

Luna turned to see a Thestral guard holding a scroll under his leathery wing, looking quite concerned for her.

"Prithee, young Corporal, tell me why thou hast disturbed mine meditations?" Her tone was authoritative, though patient, as any commander's voice should be.

"Mine reasons are twofold, Your Majesty. Mine brothers wish to pass their benedictions to you, and your sister sends a missive unto thee. Her tone indicates that she prays you take heed with haste."

Luna noticed his reluctance to use her sister's title. "Wherefore dost thou neglect mine sister's title as Regent of the Sun?" she said, taking the scroll from his grip.

"I had intended no disrespect, Your Excellence! Had I a hundred heads to give for this transgression, only then could my neck rest light with penance," he said, bowing deeply to the floor. An exemplar of her one-time subjects— now, however, only those who serve in her personal guard spoke in such a manner.

"Rise, fair Corporal, you needn't go to such lengths for mine sister in my presence. I had merely wondered after thine motivations. 'Tis of grave import in mine Sister's presence, however. I pray you not forget this, so as to preserve both our names."

"Of course, Your Eminence," he said, rising to his hooves once more, "it shall be as you say. I will endeavor to make it so."

The Lunar Princess nodded, dismissing him, and unrolled the parchment. It seemed to her that her sister didn't see her as important, having already read the missive and haphazardly resealed it. The older seal could be clearly seen under hers— the red wax of a military seal standing out clearly against the gold of her sister's official sealing wax.

Apparently, it was a field report from Major Stout Shield, addressed to her sister, listing: any supplies used, what minor fortifications had been made, abridged personnel reports, as well as eyewitness accounts of a strange fireball that had threatened the town, though failed to even approach. Nothing of import followed.

‘A whole battalion was sent for this? Such things should have been handled by a local garrison! And lo- mine sister hast done away with such precautions, forcing her to send our personal guard to perform the duties vested in the local militia!’

Truly, she wept at the loss of her friends and enemies in the times of yore. The ponies had fallen so far that they would have been wiped out by their own ancestors for such weakness and folly. She was of half a mind to lop the heads off those responsible, only staying her hoof for her sister's sake.

She feared for the future and safety of her peoples. The only ponies who seemed unaffected were those who hailed from the far-flung principalities and colonies of Equestria. Her Thestrals thankfully had moved from Equestria, and founded a country they called Germaneigh.

She could find little in the Royal Equestrian Records of Germaneigh, and what little she did find suggested that Equestria attempted to annex Germaneigh, but it would appear that the Germans held them at bay.

The Thestrals had been eager to visit her, but her sister would always insist on doing something whenever Luna decided to schedule a diplomatic visit. It had gotten to the point where Luna was all but convinced that they had been unofficially forbidden from entering the country. Knowing her sister, that was a likely possibility.

These thoughts troubled her, but she needed to see for herself just what was going on.

"Dusky Rose?" she called, shaking her server bell.

"Yes, Your Majesty?"

The Thestral maid appeared around the corner, having apparently been behind the wall the entire time. Her mane was a dark red, similar to the color of rust, and her eyes were a dazzling green (a rare color for thestrals).

"I would like for thee to inform mine Sister that I shall be taking a sabbatical in Flankfurt. I shall accept the Germans’ request that I visit their beautiful country. Relay this missive only when mine presence is requested, and not a moment sooner."

"It shall be so, Your Majesty."

And with that, Princess Luna, Regent of the Moon— Taker of Lives and Harbinger of Sleep, began down a path that she had tread once before.

Author's Note

Edited! (DRAGON!!!)

And don't you worry, dear reader. There's more where this came from! (in the future)

Your magnanimous author,
~Lonelydarkness

(P.S. I'm not dead, and the story isn't either!)