It was hardly the first time Twilight Sparkle found herself squirming beneath her sister-in-law’s raptor gaze with her own eyes downcast to study the dining room table as if the answers to all of life’s sequence were hidden somewhere in the woodwork.
Magical crystal palace or not, Twilight Sparkle had been born into a middle class family before she ascended. The castle would be furnished to her liking and everypony could do absolutely nothing and like it!
She chanced a look at the letter resting before Cadence, right beside a cup of steaming tea. Twilight fixed it with a glare, silently willing it to disappear so she could feign innocence and ignorance of its existence. The minute I start to cast, she thought, Cadence will cut me off and encase my horn in her magic so my spellwork won’t escape.
Of the two, Twilight was certainly the more powerful and skilled, but Cadence had experience. After all, she was the first to claim the mantle since Celestia and Luna. Not to mention the tiny little detail that she knew how Twilight’s mind worked.
It was Cadence who taught her the old “vanish and look innocent” trick.
Cadence hummed. The sound of magic rang through the air as she raised her cup to her lips and took a sip. “All those years you spent telling me you wouldn’t fall in love,” she teased. “Oh, I should have gotten that in writing. It would have made this so much sweeter.”
Twilight sighed and let her shoulders slump. She blew a few stray locks of mane out of her eyes, then crossed her hooves over her chest. “You don’t have to be so smug about it,” she grumbled all too much like the little filly Cadence referred to.
“Excuse you, I have been waiting for this day for years, Twilight Sparkle. That’s years of you rolling your eyes and pretending to listen while I lectured you on the finer points of love.”
Velvety purple ears drooped. “You noticed?”
“Sweetheart, I invented the ‘look right past the lecturer and nod at odd intervals’ trick. You can’t fool me.” Cadence’s eyes flashed dangerously. “So, yes, I will be smug. And I expect to meet this mare once you’ve finally swept her off her hooves. Or been swept off your hooves.” She waggled her eyebrows. “Either works, I’m not picky.”
Another sigh. Twilight brought her hooves up to cover her face. Don’t scream, she told herself. You need her help. If you scream, she’ll just tease you until you’re a blushing, squirming mess. Just like she does with Shining. Only without the flirting.
“I don’t even know how to sweep a mare off her hooves. Or how to get her to sweep me off mine!” She dragged her hooves down her face, leveling Cadence with a flat stare. “Which is kind of why I need your help, not your smugness!”
Cadence had the grace to look a bit sheepish. “Fair enough. I’m not entirely sorry, though.”
Twilight flicked her tail. Honesty. She couldn’t fault that. Loathe though she was to admit it, Cadence had every right to a bit of gloating. That didn’t make it any less irritating, though. Still, there were more pressing matters. She took a sip of her tea and laid her hooves on the table, one atop the other. “I take it you don’t need me to launch into an explanation of how I feel for her, correct?”
“Hardly.” Cadence tapped the letter with her hooves. “I think you’ve covered it quite thoroughly here. In fact, allow me to recap.” Clearing her throat, she began read Twilight’s letter aloud:
Dear Cadence,
I need your advice. And help. Yes, advice and help. This is your area of expertise, after all. Oh, and please don’t involve Celestia or Luna—I remember how they were when you first started courting Shining Armor and, well, I could use a bit of a reprieve. Also don’t tell them I didn’t call them Auntie Tia and Auntie Luna. I’ll never hear the end of it.
I suppose I should start off by saying you were right all those years. Yes, I admit it, no need to look so smug, Cadence. You were right and I, the young princess who only just came into her power and began her studies in magic and lessons in etiquette and courtly manners all those years ago, was wrong. I fell for a pony. Hard.
And I don’t know what to do.
You’ll laugh when you hear how it started—well, you won’t, most ponies would, though. It was right after my eighteenth birthday. The very day I left the comfort and familiarity of my South Tower in Canterlot Castle to take my place as regent of the Harmony Province.
Of course, I was rather taken aback that Celestia would choose Ponyville to be the provincial capital. I understood that it held significance due to the sheer density of family businesses, especially Sweet Apple Acres and Barnyard Bargains, and cultural significance as an earth pony town with a blend of more rustic pegasi and unicorns, but it was otherwise unremarkable. To me, at least. Little did I know that Celestia held it as a personal interest due to its proximity to the old Castle of the Pony Sisters, as well as her respect for the Apple Family’s matriarch, Granny Smith.
Speaking of whom, if you would be so kind as to let Celestia know that Granny says, and I quote: “Tell them Royals they raised a mighty fine young mare, and double it for her mama and papa. And let Her Highness, Princess Celestia, know that I’m still waiting for that cider drinking rematch. I ain’t gonna let myself rest peacefully ‘till I set things right and prove once and for all that nopony can drink an Apple under the table!”
Her words, not mine. I assure you.
I digress. Moving along.
There is little doubt in my mind that Spike was all too happy to write you and Shining that instant my welcome party ended. Truly, Pinkie Pie is a wonder with parties. I daresay given the time and funding, she could put something together that would rival or surpass the Grand Galloping Gala’s reputation. Though, that would require little effort at all. Her parties are actually fun.
Please continue not telling Celestia about the contents of this letter. I refuse to host that mockery of a party ever again, and if you tell on me, I will have little choice but to inform her that you vanish your brussel sprouts when she isn’t looking and have done so since you were a filly.
Anyways, the pony. Well, the mare, really. She’s … Honestly, I don’t know how to put it to words. There’s so many. Stunning, radiant, brilliant, considerate, I could go on for days! I curse the times I spent rolling my eyes when you tried to convince me to take up poetry or music so I could dazzle the pony of my dreams!
From the instant I laid eyes on her, I felt it. There was no knocking knees or fluttering wings like in all those filly stories I found in your collection, but it was there. I couldn’t look away no matter how I tried. From the way the light caressed her pristine, alabaster coat and hugged every curve of her hips and thighs, to the way her mane glittered—glittered!—in the sun as she trotted forward, head held high and sapphire eyes shining, to greet me with a bow.
Everypony else took their time to overcome some sort of anxiety or jitters. She suffered neither. In fact, I was nervous in her presence. The mare before me held the poise, grace, and beauty of a fairytale princess, and I say that without shame.
I had to know her name. I tried to ask politely, but you know how I am when I get nervous. My mouth and my brain weren’t cooperating.
That much was obvious from the way she blinked and tilted her head at me, confused. “Pardon me, Princess?” she asked in a voice that was as sweet as honey.
My knees nearly gave out right then and there. But I managed to stand firm. I apologized and asked her name again, this time in a more appropriate manner.
She smiled. Nothing else mattered to me at that point. My heart was racing, my lips felt dry, and my knees were being most uncooperative, but I simply didn’t care. She had smiled at me. With another demure bow, she met my eyes and replied, “My name is Rarity, Princess. I have been appointed as your mare-in-waiting. It is an honor to meet you, and an honor to serve.”
I remember very little else about the evening save for her. I kept her close by my side, I imagine I must have seemed rude to the townsponies—my townsponies now—for she held every bit of my attention. Time meant nothing to me. I cared little for how late we stayed up or what we spoke about as long as she stayed.
It has been that way ever since. Rarity and I together. Her, my mare-in-waiting, and I, her princess. And every day shuffles by like the day before—her the very picture of grace and poise, and me tripping over my words while I struggle to find the way to tell her how I feel.
For the first time in my life, I don’t know the answer to this problem.
Help. Please.
Your loving sister-in-law,
Twilight Sparkle
With every word, Twilight ducked her head lower until she could do little but cover herself with her wings to hide the blush that blossomed across her face. She cursed whatever impulse drove her to write her feelings down for Cadence to read with every fiber of her being. I’m going to hear about this for years. Centuries, if that bit about alicorn longevity is true.
Aloud, she spoke through gritted teeth, “Yes. I’m enamored, smitten, head-over-hooves, twitterpated, and pretty much any other way you want to put it. All for a dressmaker turned mare-in-waiting in some little farming town in Harmony Province." Twilight parted her feathers just enough to glare at her sister-in-law. A bright smile and fluffing of feathers were all she received in reply. “I suppose you’re satisfied?”
“Immensely so. But this isn’t about me. It’s about you and this Rarity.” Cadence folded her hooves in her lap. “I’m surprised I haven’t met her. Why didn’t you have her come up for the Winter Moon Celebration?”
“I wanted her to have the night off to be with her family. Celestia knows she spends enough time fretting over my mane and hearing me stumble over my words.” Twilight flicked her ear, then added, “Also, her parents up and left on a vacation for the umpteenth time, so she had to watch her little sister.”
Cadence blinked, her smile faltered for the first time that day. “Oh, my! Absentee parents?”
“Like you wouldn’t believe.” Twilight sighed. “And always at the worst times.”
“The worst times professionally?” Her smile returned, along with a decidedly vulpine edge and a spark in her eyes. “Or for you to tell her your feelings?”
Twilight lowered her wings so she could scowl at Cadence. “Must you delight in my suffering?”
“Both, then. And yes. I’m your sister-in-law. It’s in the contract.” Before she could retort, Cadence held up a hoof to forestall her. “Okay, I’m done now. Helping time.” Fluffing her feathers, she adjusted herself so she could relax in her seat cushion and levitated her tea cup to hover near her lips. “What is it you’re having trouble with, Ladybug?”
Flicking an ear at her fillyhood nickname, Twilight couldn’t help but feel a sense of calm wash over her. The tension and nerves just seemed to roll off like water from a duck’s back. With Cadence, there was no need for courtly manners or image. They were friends and family first, princesses second.
There was little point in dallying or trying to sugar coat it. Twilight took a deep breath, then replied, “I can’t tell her.”
Cadence blinked. After a moment, she sighed and leveled Twilight with a flat stare. “If this is some silly thing about her being your seneschal, I’m afraid I’m going to have to scold you. Your brother was literally my personal guard while we were dating.”
“That’s not—ugh—that’s not what I meant at all!” Twilight squeezed her eyes shut tight and drew in a breath through her nose. Her feathers twitched irritably. She had to get it out there. “I told you in the letter.”
“Yes. You can’t get the words out. Forgive me, but I don’t really understand how you mean that. Have you just tried sitting down and talking to her?”
Twilight gave a mirthless laugh. “That’s just it. I’ve tried. Celestia, I tried bringing it up at tea the day I wrote you that letter!” She turned her gaze upon her cooling tea, staring into its depths as if it would yield the answer. “I just end up tongue-tied no matter what I do, or I bring up something stupid and unrelated as a distraction.”
A gentle hoof touched her wrist. “Come now, Twilight. Nerves or not, I’m sure it’s not that bad.”
Her eyes met Cadence’s. “How do you like the weather, Rarity?” she deadpanned. “I led with that and never recovered.”
Cadence had the grace to wince. “I stand corrected. It’s that bad.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“Call ‘em like I see ‘em, Twilight. Just because you’re having a rough time of it doesn’t mean it’s not salvageable, though.” She smiled. “I’m sure by now you have an idea of what she likes.”
“Yes.” Twilight couldn’t help but smile and let out a sigh. Her feathers fluffed and ears perked up as butterflies began to flutter in her stomach. “Rarity is, well, everything I’m not,” she said, tilting her head down to hide the coloring in her cheeks. “She’s more an artist than a mare-in-waiting or dressmaker. I’m almost certain that I could make a dress if you gave me materials, a book, and the exact directions on what you wanted. But I can’t create like she can.”
Raising an eyebrow, Cadence rolled a hoof in a forward circle.
Twilight’s wings unfurled and rose to cover her face. “It’s one of the things I love about her. She can just look at somepony and come up with a thousand and one ideas to make that pony look like something out of a fairytale.” She paused a beat, then added, “You remember my Gala dress, right? The one with the blue stars?”
“From the lone time you agreed to appear at the Gala?” Cadence’s lips twitched.
The heat in her cheeks spread until it reached her neck, and even the tips of her ears. “Yes. That one.”
“I do. It was quite lovely.” Cadence paused a moment, an odd gleam shone in her eyes. She steepled her hooves and leaned forward. “I suppose you mean to tell me Rarity designed it from scratch?” At Twilight’s nod, she hummed. “A rather impressive piece, I must say. Why, you were the belle of the ball. Our dear aunties couldn’t believe how beautiful their little Sparkle had grown!”
Twilight whined and let her shoulders slump. “I thought we were done teasing me!”
“Oh, hush! I’m appreciating your paramour’s work and complimenting you, silly filly!” Cadence stuck out her tongue. “And I’m thinking this through, so go on. Tell me more about this mare.”
Go on? When it came to Rarity, Twilight could go on for days. She had several notebooks filled with information on Rarity’s best qualities.
In a flash of magenta light, the aforementioned notebooks appeared on the table before her. Each riddled with color coded markers denoting the beginnings of certain subjects.
Cadence stared at them for a moment. Then, she looked up at Twilight and said, “Four notebooks? I never want to hear a word about my Love Webs from you or Shiny again.” She waved her smitten sister-in-law on. “Let’s begin. Maybe we’ll figure something out as you read.”
Her blush deepening, Twilight selected the first of the notebooks and began to read through the highlights.
It took a few hours longer than intended with quite a bit more blushing and stammering than Twilight ever wished to deal with, but they made it through. First they covered the little details, like how Rarity’s laugh sounded like the tinkling of chimes or how her nose scrunched when she thought about one of her designs—or whenever Rainbow tricked her. Then there were all the big things. The types of food Rarity liked, her favorite music, her inspirations, even her favorite art period.
For the most part, Cadence stayed quiet throughout. She would stop Twilight to ask a question here and there, but there was no teasing. It was all business of a higher purpose.
When it came to Princess Mi Amore Cadenza, love was the most important business there could be. What cause could be greater to her? After all, legend told that the Crystal Empire rose to the peak of its power when the Crystal Empress, Aurora, fell in love with Borealis, the most powerful sorcerer in the Frozen North. All considering, it was rather fitting that Cadence and Shining Armor sat upon the Crystal Throne in present day.
By the time she was finished, Twilight felt as though a weight had been lifted off her shoulders. Oh, certainly, the embarrassment and nerves were there as she aired all the little things about Rarity that made her heart do backflips, but with it came a sense of calm. Somepony else knew how she felt—somepony who would actually help rather than laugh or quip, like a certain baby dragon.
Cadence drained the last remnants of her tea from her cup and smiled gaily. Her feathers fluffed and deep purple eyes danced with naked glee. She was in her element. For all intents and purposes, Twilight’s Palace of Friendship might as well have transformed into Castle Amore. “I think I may have something for you,” she said.
Twilight’s ears perked up. “Really?”
Nodding once, Cadence tapped one of the notebooks. “I see plenty about her love for high society and romancing here. Which, if you’ll pardon my bluntness, is not you.”
Her ears drooped, but Twilight managed to keep her hesitant smile in place. “I’m hoping there’s a ‘but’ there.”
“As a matter of fact, there is.” The dancing in Cadence’s eyes seemed to intensify. “I think I’ve figured out the perfect way for you to ask her to a nice dinner so you can tell her how you feel. And it’ll have her eating out of your hooves.”
“… I’m listening.”
Butterflies fluttering in her stomach would have been an improvement in Twilight’s humble opinion. The poor mare was a basket of nerves as she trotted along Ponyville’s frozen dirt path. Though its colors were dimmed with the onset of a cool winter night, Carousel Boutique’s pristine white walls and powder blue roof loomed ahead. Fresh snow collected along the edges of the roof, as if Rainbow Dash had purposefully set it up to dump snow on Rarity with a little brush of her hoof as she flew overhead.
That’s probably why there’s a good bit of it over the steps, Twilight thought. She stopped a few lengths from Rarity’s porch, and decided to do her faithful mare-in-waiting and resident dressmaker a favor. Her horn flashed and a tendril of magic reached out to collect Rainbow’s delayed snow assault. With a deft flick, she deposited it off the path.
If Rainbow wanted to start a snowball fight, she would just have to do it the old-fashioned way.
Twilight trotted up the steps and across the front porch, stopping within reach of the front door. She stared, unmoving save for a shiver brought on by the cold wind. Her breath came in a frosty mist, her hoof trembled as she raised it to knock—though she liked to pretend it was just a part of the shiver.
Maybe this isn’t such a good idea, a part of her nagged. What if she doesn’t want to go to dinner? Or what if she doesn’t feel the same?
She withdrew her hoof a fraction. That was a legitimate question. What would happen if Rarity didn’t return her feelings? Where would they go from there? Or, worse, would she even want to remain Twilight’s mare-in-waiting?
All were points she raised with Cadence. Each of which had been answered with the same reply:
“You’ll never know unless you ask.”
Her insides twisted. That was unacceptable. Purely from an academic standpoint, not knowing something just ate her up. She didn’t want to imagine what it would be like to look at Rarity every day and think “what if” for however many years they were princess and mare-in-waiting.
It would be far too much like the current situation. Worse, actually!
She could almost imagine Cadence standing over her shoulder, watching with an encouraging smile and nodding her toward the door. Her own way of nudging Twilight onward.
All the more reason to make the effort.
Twilight knocked thrice on the wood door and waited with a nervous smile. Her ears twitched at the sound of steady hoofsteps against the floor came muffled through the wood, along with a musical voice calling, “Sweetie Belle, keep an eye on the kettle while I get the door!”
Her heart did a backflip, then another when she heard the telltale tinkling of magic engulfing the door handle. It would have gone for a third as the door pulled open, but it skipped a beat the instant Rarity’s smiling face greeted her.
Rarity’s eyes lit up. “Princess! What are you doing out in the cold at this hour?”
Twilight licked her lips. The cold must have dried them out. Yes, that was it. “Hello, Rarity,” she said evenly. “I was just, um, taking a walk.” By Celestia, this is asking how the weather is all over again. “How are you?”
“I’m well, thank you,” Rarity replied automatically. She blinked twice, then shook her head. Her smile fell into a stern frown, the kind she always wore when Twilight didn’t want to bother with her regalia. “Princess,” she began, “why are you walking around town at night, in the middle of winter, without a scarf? Or, more preferable, a jacket and hat?”
Oops. Twilight forced a smile. Her knees were already starting to knock. “I wasn’t really thinking about it.”
“There it is.” Rarity gave a long-suffering sigh, which trailed off into a laugh. Proper and courtly as she might fashion herself, she’d served as Twilight’s mare-in-waiting long enough that they were more friends than princess and servant. She stepped aside and waved Twilight in. “Well, come in before you catch a cold. Honestly, as brilliant as you are, Princess!”
Twilight had the sense to look mollified, and trotted inside as asked. Warmth washed over her coat, she fluffed her feathers as though to shake out any remnants of snow and cold that clung to her. While Rarity closed the door and continued chiding her for her carelessness, she took a chance to inspect her mare-in-waiting’s sitting room.
Once upon a time, it had doubled as Rarity’s showroom. She would have customers come in for fittings or commissions, and stand them on the platform so she could measure and compare fabrics against their coat. Nowadays, Rarity didn’t have as much time to devote to her craft. Oh, she still took the odd commission and happily repairs or refitted dresses on the side, but her duties as mare-in-waiting took priority.
It was hardly the first time Twilight felt guilty, and certainly wouldn’t be the last.
An alabaster hoof waved in front of her face. Twilight started. “Huh?”
Rarity raised an eyebrow. “I asked if you wanted some tea, Princess,” she said, her lips twitching. “But you seem to be a hundred miles away. Daydreaming about home again?”
“Ponyville is my home,” Twilight replied. She leveled Rarity with a mock glare. “And I’ll have you know I haven’t been caught sighing and staring out my window at Canterlot since my first month here!”
“Not being caught doesn’t mean you don’t still do it, Princess.”
“Well, I don’t! And I’ve told you a thousand times to call me Twilight! We’re not even at a function this time!”
“Well,” Rarity said, a coy smile spread across her face, “I suppose you have a point. Twilight it is. But don’t change the subject. If not daydreaming about Canterlot, perhaps something else, hmm?” She sidled up to Twilight, brushing their shoulders together. “Are you trying to keep secrets from me, Twilight?”
Twilight sucked in her lips. She coughed and looked away to hide the blush that threatened to spread across her cheeks. “Um, I was just looking around. I remember how full your racks were when I first arrived.”
“Oh.” Rarity’s smile faltered for a split second, then she fixed it back in place. “Well, you know I take my little jobs on the side, darling. No need to worry, I’m happy and honored to be your mare-in-waiting, as always.”
“I know. It’s just—oh, never mind. Just reminiscing. And thinking.” Twilight flicked her tail. Why was this so hard?
“And what were you thinking about, pray tell?”
She took a deep breath and squeezed her eyes shut. It was now or never. “Are you doing anything Friday night, Rarity?”
“I don’t believe so, but I’m always available if there’s a function,” Rarity replied. Her brows furrowed. “Have I missed something?”
“No, there’s no function. I just wanted to ask if you’d like to go to dinner with me.” Twilight tried not to hold her breath.
She failed.
Rarity chuckled. “Oh, Twilight, don’t scare me like that! I was worried I’d forgotten some big event on your calendar!” She playfully hip bumped Twilight, then said, “Of course, I’d be happy to have dinner with you. Did you have some place in mind?”
Twilight’s heart hammered in her ears. The corners of her mouth tugged into an excited grin. “Have you ever heard of Café Soleil?”
As it turned out, Rarity had indeed heard of Café Soleil. Then again, anypony interested in high society and fashion knew what it was.
Longstanding rumor told that Café Soleil had been Celestia’s favorite dining spot when it first opened its doors. Supposedly, she thought of it as her spot whenever she wanted a little break from the palace to allow herself a few moments to herself—guard escort and doting wait staff aside—and loved the outdoor seating. Luna joined as well, albeit with a few good-natured jokes about it making more sense to be named Café de la Lune since it did more business at night.
Whether or not it was true, nopony but the owners and the elder princesses knew. And Celestia and Luna so loved the chance to give their coy, secretive smiles and half-answers whenever such things came up, so they were more than happy to let everypony believe the tale.
Rarity, like so many others throughout the land, was completely sold. Dressed in a splendrous midnight blue dress with a flowing hemline that sparkled like the night sky, she gaped openly, as though she were trying to take in everything at once. From the smooth marble columns, rounded to perfection and gleaming in the torch light, to the powder pink walls adorned with original works of classical artists like Moneigh, Cantraletto, and a pair of the fantasy works of van Gallop, which drew a gasp and a hoof to steady her beating heart.
“Celestia donated them,” Twilight said, sensing the chance for a bit of education. She had managed to talk Rarity out of dressing as if they were going to the Gala, but had given in to wearing her regalia along with a purple dress that matched the streak of her mane. Flashing her history nerd cred was an equivalent tradeoff. “She had them stashed away in a private gallery for a couple centuries, but she gave them to the owners as a gift—”
“Because she felt they would be better off being loved and appreciated by her ponies than hidden away for her eyes alone,” Rarity finished in a bit of a daze. She shook her head and blinked a couple times, then turned her attention to Twilight. She stared as though seeing her friend for the first time. “How did you even get a reservation here?”
Twilight allowed herself a rare chance to raise her nose toward the ceiling and imitate her aunts’ maddeningly coy smile. “Being a member of the Royal Family does have some perks along with all the tediousness of paperwork and governance,” she replied. Her façade faded, she ducked her head and tried to hide an uneasy smile. “We sort of skip to the front of the line when we want to go out and eat at nice places. It’s still a bit weird for me.”
“Yes, I recall you mentioned your fillyhood. Middle class astronomer and professor, yes?” At Twilight’s nod, Rarity smiled. “Well, Princess, that does explain why you try to avoid wearing your regalia, no matter how nicely I polish it.”
“I do not avoid it! And I thought we talked about calling me Twilight!” Twilight stomped her hoof. “We’re not at a function!”
“But we are in public,” Rarity countered, raising her hoof. “We have to maintain your image or ponies might get the wrong idea, Princess.”
Twilight bit the inside of her cheek. The wrong idea? She did her best to hide the frown that threatened to mar her face, and instead turned her attention to the maitre ‘d, a smartly dressed stallion of slate coat and slick black mane in a pinstripe suit.
The maitre d’ bowed as soon as her eyes fell upon him. “Princess Twilight,” he greeted in a rich, smooth voice, “how wonderful to see you again. Your table is ready, and Master Au Gratin will be along to greet you personally in short order.”
“Oh, thank you. I haven’t seen him in ages. I hope he’s been well.”
“Quite well, Princess,” he replied with a nod. “He was called away to entertain an elderly mare celebrating her birthday some time ago. Normally, he would of course be here to greet you himself, but she is an old family friend.”
Twilight smiled and waved him off. “I understand. Hopefully she enjoys her night.”
“Indeed. In the meantime, please allow me to show you to your table.” He stepped out from behind his stand and bowed again, then led Twilight and Rarity through the restaurant in a methodical trot through the restaurant’s dining room. His pace was quick enough to move them along so none of the patrons would have the chance to step into their path and interrupt, but slow enough to allow them the chance to appreciate the décor a bit more.
More something for Rarity than herself, but Twilight appreciated the subtle maneuver. It afforded Rarity the chance to look up at the ceiling and marvel at the depiction of the midday sun breaking through the clouds on proud display all across the ceiling.
Au Gratin’s great-grandfather, Ala Carte, spared no expense on artistic flair, and his family spared even less on ensuring that his efforts would be preserved for all time.
“By Celestia’s wings,” Rarity breathed. She faltered a step, her shoulder brushed against Twilight’s. “It’s gorgeous!”
Twilight sent silent thanks and praise to Cadence’s wisdom. It wasn’t the first time, and she was loathe to admit it likely wouldn’t be the last. Regardless, things were going smoothly thus far, and Twilight wasn’t going to complain.
The maitre d’ led them out onto the balcony overlooking the horizon, straight off the side of Mount Canterhorn. The best view of the city save for Canterlot Castle itself. A two-seater table adorned with a white linen cloth and a pair of violets resting in a slender glass vase and set for a full course meal awaited them.
Surprisingly, the air wasn’t cold. It was cool, certainly, but nowhere near as chilly as the walk up the pathway to the front door. Twilight furrowed her brows and turned to ask the question, but found her answer hanging from the wall—a pair of glowing pink crystals known as Hearth Warmers hung by chain from bronze handles to the wall.
“Princess,” their escort said with a bow, gesturing to one seat as he pulled it out with a gentle tug of his magic, which she happily slid into. Then he did the same for Rarity. “Your server will be with you momentarily. Until then, might I fetch a bottle of wine for the pair of you?”
“What would you recommend?” Twilight asked, taking initiative to disguise her lack of knowledge just as Cadence had instructed her.
“Master Au Gratin favors the Capusado Mostrato. It’s a white wine with a bit of a sweet taste. It goes rather well with pasta, in my opinion.”
“I think that would be just fine.” Twilight turned to Rarity. A hint of dread crept into her chest when she realized she’d spoken for both of them, she hastily added, “If that’s okay with you?”
To her relief, Rarity smiled. “It’s quite fine with me, Princess. I find Capusado to be quite tasty myself.” She winked. “It also doesn’t cause nearly the amount of headaches as red wines.”
“That is very true,” the maitre d’ agreed. “Capusado Mostrato it is. I will have it brought out shortly. Enjoy, Princess. M’lady.” He bowed, then turned and began a brisk trot inside, leaving them together in the cool night air.
A few short minutes later, a young blond mare dressed in a white button down shirt came trotting out carrying a tray aloft in the pink glow of her magic. A blue bottle and a pair of glasses rested upon the tray. She bowed her head and murmured a shy greeting in a mix of Prench and Equish as she poured their drinks, then set them on the table.
Twilight accepted her glass, waiting a moment for Rarity to take hers. Their eyes met, they clinked the glasses together and sipped. A sweet, fuitlike taste greeted her, reminiscent of apples and pears; a curious mix, but not unwelcome. She licked the remnants from her upper lip, and turned to give an appreciative nod to the young mare. “Thank you,” she said. “And your name is?”
The mare seemed to squirm. “Leva,” she replied, her accent thick as she slipped into her native tongue. “Leva Jaune, ma Princesse.”
“Leva,” Twilight said, testing it out for herself. “Thank you, Leva. Would you mind giving us a couple minutes to decide?”
“O-Of course.” Leva gave a hasty bow and folded the tray against her side. “I’ll be back in a few moments. Enjoy, Princesse. Et—And you, miss.”
Rarity nodded in kind, her mask of propriety and decorum firmly in place. Her eyes, however, scarcely left Twilight’s for a second.
Her heart was doing backflips, the butterflies in her stomach fluttered aimlessly once more.
For a moment, there was silence between the pair. They stared at one another, Rarity’s eyes shone and she seemed as though she were ready to start bouncing in her seat, like Sweetie Belle waiting for her favorite sweets.
Twilight couldn’t help but give a nervous smile. “What do you think?”
“It’s wonderful!” Rarity squealed, beaming shamelessly. “The art, the décor, the view, everything! It’s better than I ever dreamed!” She paused a moment to take a breath, her chest heaved. “What in Equestria did I do to deserve coming here? Oh, never mind that!” She waved Twilight off before she could take the easy opening. “This is already a wonderful evening. Thank you so much!”
Already? They’d barely even begun, was a look around a nice building really all it took?
It’s the artist in her, Twilight reminded herself. After all, Rarity was quite known for marveling at little design elements of particular dresses or the culture and history of Canterlot or Manehattan. And that was on top of the “glamour” of the respective cities’ high societies.
All according to Cadence’s advice. Her sister-in-law had an uncanny knack for that sort of thing.
“Thank you for agreeing to come with me,” Twilight replied. “I was hoping to spend a little time with you. Just the two of us. Quality time, if you will. And you’ve been a good mare-in-waiting and a better friend.”
“You flatter me, Princess, but—”
“Twilight,” she interrupted.
Rarity blinked twice. She glanced at the balcony door, then back at Twilight. “Didn’t we just agree that—”
“I’m not agreeing tonight,” Twilight interrupted again. “Just tonight. We can be regular ponies, without the need for propriety and titles and putting on a show in front of other ponies because of this silly crown.”
“I—but—Pri—Twilight!” Rarity all but whined as she shot another furtive glance at the door. “In Ponyville is one thing, but not in a high class restaurant in the middle of the capital!”
True, but Twilight had one last card to play. She stuck out her lip and angled her head downward, widening her eyes as much as she could. A trick she used to get extra cookies from Shining Armor. “Please?”
Rarity sucked in her lips, she squirmed in her seat as if physically struggling with the notion. Then, she sighed and gave in. “Ooooooh! Very well! Twilight it is! Now would you please stop pouting at me?”
Twilight withdrew her lip and beamed. “Happily!” she chirped, fluffing her feathers in victory. Cadence’s little trick to get Shining to give in was quite fun, actually. “So, just Twilight and Rarity tonight.”
“Indeed. So, then, Twilight, I’ve never really asked—which, come to think of it, was rather rude of me.” She coughed and let one ear droop. “I’ve never asked what would you do if you weren’t a princess.”
Thinking a moment, Twilight tilted her head. “Well, you know I do quite a bit of studying in my spare time.”
Rarity arched a slender brow. “A bit? Twilight, I do believe you’ve just won the award for understatement of the year. I’ve seen mountains smaller than your book piles.”
“Ha ha, you’re so witty.” Twilight stuck out her tongue and crossed her eyes. “Anyway, I think something along those lines. Research, experiments, testing new spells. Something along those lines, most likely. Nothing quite as grand as being a high-end fashion designer.”
“Oh, hush!” Rarity tutted and lightly smacked Twilight’s wrist despite the smile spreading across her face. Generous though she was, the mare was not without a sense of vanity and a weakness for flattery when it came to her talents. “Research and experimentation might not be my cup of tea, but let’s not pretend some of the things you’ve learned on the side, so to speak, haven’t been impressive. Your work on refining your teleportation spell, for instance. Honestly, if you hadn’t, I don’t think I’d have ever accepted a side-along ride again after our—ahem—unfortunate mishap during your first month.”
Ducking her head, Twilight let her ears lay flat. She drew tiny circles in the linen cloth. “I didn’t realize putting that much magic into the spell would char your tile at the time. Or that dress you were working on for me …”
Rarity waved her off. “Twilight, it’s in the past. I forgave you ages ago!”
“I know, but you worked so hard on it and—eep!” Twilight had to fend off a tendril of magic tweaking her ear with one of her own. She shot a pointed glare at the beautiful mare across the table. “Excuse you!”
“Apologies, darling,” she said, looking anything but apologetic, “but you were getting down on yourself again. Princess Celestia insisted I be on the look out for that when I took my post.”
Twilight gave a playful huff. That wasn’t a battle she could win. Besides, Rarity had a point. “Fair enough. That aside, thank you for the compliment.” A coy smile played upon her lips. “I do recall you being a bit nervous to side-along with me when I first tested it, though.”
Rarity took a sip of her wine to disguise hide her blush. “Well, given the first ride, I was a bit skeptical. But you proved me wrong, as you’ve done many times with some of our less savory guests.” She paused for a few seconds, then tittered. “Do you remember that Yakish ambassador last fall?”
“Who could forget? Spike still flinches if I say ‘not right’ loud enough!”
“Oh, don’t get me started on that! I’ll never forgive him for swinging that club at you.”
Twilight squirmed in her seat. “Well, to be fair, I did pin him against the wall after that and scare the wits out of him, so I think we’re even.”
“After he destroyed your old throne, yes.” Rarity frowned. “He’s on my bad list, Twilight. And if he ever dares to utter a cross word in your presence again, he will find that ‘whiny, prissy pony’ can be quite wicked with needles.”
Wincing, Twilight sought to change the subject. “How about Lady Mai from Neighpon? You hit it off well with her, if I recall.”
The frown ran away from Rarity’s face, her eyes seemed to flash. “Darling, Mai and I could go on for days about Neighpon’s fashion trends. We simply must have her over again.”
“Actually, I believe she was hoping to host us this time around. Talks regarding trade to do business with Sweet Apple Acres in exchange for metal for farming tools, if I recall.”
“Oooh! A trip to Neighpon? A chance to stay in the Jade Palace? I can hardly wait!” A coy smile settled upon Rarity’s lips, she fixed Twilight with a lidded stare. “You know she tried to convince me to leave you employ and come make kimonos for her, right?”
Twilight nearly spat out her wine. “She what?”
“It’s true. I told her I hadn’t the faintest idea how to make one, and that I was quite happy with you. She was rather disappointed, the poor dear.”
Her eye twitched. Twilight took a deep breath, then sipped at her wine while she tried not to let her temper show. Mai was supposed to be a friend, and the last time she checked, friends didn’t try to take somepony’s mare-in-waiting! With a huff, she flicked her tail. “Then perhaps I should delay our trip,” she grumbled. “That ought to teach her to pilfer ponies from a princess.”
“Darling, you’re using alliteration with your anger again.”
“For good reason!” She crossed her hooves over her chest and glared at her glass. Stupid Mai. Stupid Jade Palace.
Rarity’s smile fell. “Twilight,” she said softly, reaching across the table to take her hoof. “There’s no need to be upset. I told her I wasn’t leaving you for her.”
Twilight flicked an ear toward her but didn’t reply.
“I mean it,” Rarity pressed. “I love Ponyville. And I love being your friend and mare-in-waiting. Certainly, the Neighponese culture and arts interest me, but I don’t want to pack up my bags and move away from all my friends and family. Or you, for that matter.”
“Really?” Twilight drawled.
“Really, dear. You’re a wonderful friend. And let’s not pretend our days have been dull since we met. Remember the kitchen incident?”
The corners of her mouth twitched. “In my defense, you surprised me while I was working with several pans.”
“True. And who else is going to chase you around and make you wear the regalia she so carefully polished, or so help her?”
Twilight had to bite the inside of her cheek to avoid laughing, but her lips betrayed her. A full grin blossomed across her face. “I don’t know what you’re talking about!” she managed to say, her voice tinged with poorly restrained laughter. “I am a former student of Celestia and Luna, and I would never be so immature as to do such a thing! Especially since my mare-in-waiting works so hard to make my regalia look immaculate!”
Rarity fixed her with a pointed stare. “Of course. How silly of me to think such.”
The dam broke. Twilight doubled over in laughter, clutching her sides while she gave way to her mirth and damn the consequences should any of her subjects see. Rarity managed to hold her façade exactly three seconds longer before she joined in.
So far, so good. Just like Cadence said it would go.
Out of the corner of her eye, Twilight noticed Leva Jaune trotting through the door closely followed by a rather portly stallion in a velvet suit and a little more salt than pepper color to his slicked back mane and well-groomed tail. At fifty-something years of age, Au Gratin could still cut a figure.
For Rarity’s benefit, Twilight bobbed her head toward the door. “Don’t look now,” she said with a hint of a smile tugging at her lips, “but I think we’re about to be visited by restaurant royalty.”
Rarity whipped her head around so fast the magnificent curls in her mane nearly batted her snout. Her jaw dropped, her eyes seemed to dance with stars.
“You flatter me, Princesse Twilight,” Au Gratin said, bowing smoothly when he reached their table. “I am but a humble stallion trying to continue his family’s work.” He wrapped her in a gentle hug, then kissed her cheeks in traditional Prench greeting. “It is good to see you again.”
“Likewise.” Twilight happily returned the gesture.
Au Gratin drew back, then turned his attention to Rarity. Twilight had to do her best to fight back a titter as a rosy hue colored her crush’s eggshell white cheeks. “Et, alors! Who is this mare you’ve brought to my humble restaurant?”
Humble? Twilight’s brow cranked up like a drawbridge at the remark, but she let it slide. This part was for Rarity. Snarking time could come later. “This is my mare-in-waiting, my confidant, and one of my closest friends. Rarity, meet Au Gratin.”
The way Rarity swayed when Au Gratin kissed her hoof made Twilight long for a camera. Even if things didn’t quite go her way, the memory, at least, would bring some laughs later.
The chat with Au Gratin was a bit longer than expected, but Twilight could hardly complain. It made Rarity happy; schmoozing with the upper crust of Canterlot society and getting a taste of the very class her princess didn’t associate with as much was her bread and butter. It was one of the many reasons Twilight consulted Rarity for advice when it came to meetings with the likes of Filthy Rich and his potential business partners in Stalliongrad, Vanhoover, or Whinnypeg. Not quite her thing, so to speak, but a necessary part of her duties. Her subjects’ interests became her own.
Dinner had been quite lovely. Rarity had decided to try some marinated leeks and herbs while Twilight went with her old standby, a creamy mushroom pasta that had her faithful mare-in-waiting cringing at the unhealthiness of the sauce. Any scolding and reminders of her diet were met with all the decorum and grace befitting a Crown Princess of Equestria— Twilight blew a raspberry and forked a generous helping of pasta into her mouth.
The wine, of course, kept flowing. It was a night for the two of them, why ever shouldn’t they indulge a little?
By the time they’d finished their meals, the bottle of Mostrato had been polished off. Twilight could feel a bit of a buzz—really, more of a tingling sort of feeling than a buzz. Either way, she felt light and carefree. Some time ago, she had moved her seat around the table so she could sit beside Rarity. A broad grin settled on her face, she giggled as she let her feathers brush against Rarity’s side, the tiniest sense of adventure crept into her mind with the help of the wine.
Rarity, for her part, wasn’t quite as giggly. She leaned into Twilight’s touch and swirled the last remnants of her wine while she idly chatted about upcoming meetings with a few dignitaries, Pinkie’s many pending requests for larger functions (a mandate Twilight finally got her to sign last week), as well as the upcoming Apple Family Reunion.
Ponyville certainly seemed like a sleepy little farm town from the outside, but some days felt very much like the old hustle and bustle of Canterlot’s Little Istallia on a Saturday night.
Twilight half-listened, merely content to let her talk while she worked out how to get to the important part of the evening. How did she transition from schedules to confession?
Cadence would say to take the initiative. The onus was on her to find a way to maneuver the conversation to her goal. Twilight licked her lips, the fruit like taste of wine still lingered. “This has been a nice night,” she said in a way she hoped seemed casual. She trailed her feathers down Rarity’s shoulder, a little trick she learned watching Cadence and Shining. “Thanks again for coming with me, Rarity.”
“Oh, thank you for inviting me, darling,” Rarity demurred, pausing a moment to finish off her wine and place the glass on the table. “I’ve had a lovely time with you as well. This has been just …” She raised a hoof and rolled it forward as if to snatch the right word out of the air. She failed. Shrugging, she smiled. “Delightful. There it is. Coming here, meeting Au Gratin, sampling the food, all of it has been a delight.” Her smile broadened, she bumped shoulders with Twilight. “Good company is the cherry atop the proverbial sundae.”
Twilight fluffed her feathers. The happy buzz in her head made her feel like she was walking on clouds. Good. It was going well enough. Now how to progress it further?
Again, she licked her lips. Her tail twitched in anticipation. Twilight turned her gaze up at the winter sky and took a deep breath. Courage. But what to do?
Come out and say it, Cadence told her. Don’t dally, don’t try to wait for a perfect moment or fret over the right thing to say. That silliness is wasted on stories and plays. Love doesn’t work that way.
If only Twilight could get her mouth to work properly. “I-I actually asked you to come here for another reason, Rarity. Not that spending time and chatting with you hasn’t been fun, I mean.”
Rarity turned to face her fully, her brows furrowed. “Oh? Is it something important?” She snorted and rolled her eyes. “Don’t answer that, I’m being silly. You brought me to one of the nicest restaurants in the country, of course it’s important. Did that amendment to the Winter Wrap Up schedule pass through the Town Assembly?”
“No—well, yes, actually. That went through Monday. Applejack signed on after I assured her there would be no magic used whatsoever. For the umpteenth time.”
“Tradition is important to the community, Twilight. Especially the Apples and Riches.”
“I know, I know. That’s why I’m glad we finally got it sorted.” Twilight shook herself. Focus! “But no, that’s not it. There’s something else I wanted to discuss with you. Er, ask you rather.”
“Discuss or ask away, darling. I’m all ears.”
This was it. Her big chance! Twilight took another deep breath and tried to steady her racing heart. She made to say it, just a few short words to lay her cards on the table and let her crush out for the mare to see.
Her tongue wouldn’t cooperate. Her throat seemed to tighten as she struggled to force the words out. She just couldn’t bring herself to come out and say it, not with Rarity gazing at her with those thrice-damned beautiful sapphire eyes!
Instead, she blurted out, “Would you like to dance with me?”
Rarity flinched. “What?”
“Dance with me!” Twilight said, cursing herself as she resigned to roll with the impulse. She took Rarity’s hoof in hers and rose from her seat. “It’s a beautiful night. We should dance a little.”
“But there’s no music!” Rarity replied, a hint of bemused laughter to her tone.
“So? We can dance without music!” Twilight gave an insistent tug. “Please?”
Rarity sat in stubborn refusal for a moment longer before allowing herself to be pulled out of her seat and over toward the stone ledge of the balcony. “Oh, very well!” she said with a mock sigh. She accepted Twilight’s left hoof in her right, then set her left on Twilight’s shoulder while she stood on her hind legs. They swayed for a step as they tried to balance and compensate for the buzz, their chests brushed together. “I hope you realize we’re not going to be doing anything with dips or twirls after all that wine.”
“That’s fine. I’m not much for any of that anyway.”
They began a slow, steady step like a couple at a secondary school dance night. They moved in a careful circle and held each other upright, swaying to an imaginary tune only they could hear. Twilight wagered that any pony who might happen to look through the window might think them mad. Or perhaps something more along the lines she wanted.
But the ponies inside stopped mattering some time ago. Twilight let out a contented sigh and maneuvered herself closer so her nose was just a hair’s breadth from Rarity’s. Her eyes, those gorgeous blue eyes, drew her in like a moth to an open flame.
And Rarity didn’t pull away. She gave no sign of discomfort, not even the slightest hint of hesitation in her eyes. Instead, she smiled and moved with Twilight, allowing her to lead their slow waltz.
Without a care in the world, they danced and danced. Their steps took them closer to the balcony’s stone ledge, right up to that beautiful view off Mount Canterhorn. Twilight felt her mouth run dry. The timing was perfect, all she had to do was stop and say it. Her hooves began to tremble, she could even feel her feathers twitching in anticipation.
Rarity stopped first. Her brow creased in a concerned frown. “Is something wrong, Twilight? You’re shaking.”
“N-Nothing’s wrong. Just—” Twilight swallowed “—just nerves.”
“Nerves? What ever for?”
Twilight felt like a foal caught in front of a train. Her hind knees began to shake. Still, she held her ground. Rarity’s comforting hoof on her shoulder saw to that. “What I wanted to tell you tonight,” she replied with a quiver in her voice. Why did her mouth have to betray her at the worst possible times?
“Twilight, you’re starting to worry me.” Her hoof left Twilight’s shoulder and gently cupped her cheek. “What is it you’re so worked up over?”
The words wouldn’t come forth. Twilight worked her mouth, but to no avail. Once again, she had come up short when it mattered most. Another chance wasted.
She flicked her tail. No, not this time. Too much had been put into their date for her to turn tail. Maybe it was time for her to take a page out of Rarity’s book—sometimes, ambition and action had to win the day. Since words and planning failed, Twilight decided to roll the proverbial dice.
Perhaps it was the buzz from drinking wine, or several months’ worth of frustration with herself finally boiling over. Or, more likely, a combination of both. Either way, Twilight didn’t care. She was done hiding and fretting.
Throwing caution to the wind, she leaned in and captured Rarity’s lips in a sweet kiss. One she’d been dying to steal since the day they met. She felt Rarity freeze in her grasp, a trickle of doubt crept into her chest.
Then, to her relief, Rarity closed her eyes and tilted her head, leaning into the kiss. Twilight breathed through her nose, her eyes fluttered shut as they wrapped one another in a tight embrace. All was right in the world.
They parted after a few moments. Their cheeks were tinged a dusty pink, their breathing came in needy gasps that spiraled skyward like wisps of silvery smoke.
Rarity blinked several times, her mouth hung open and her eyes were wide and locked on Twilight’s own. She worked her mouth wordlessly, stunned to silence.
Twilight took her chance. “I really like you,” she said softly. “A lot. I’ve felt this for you since the day we first met. And I would like to ask if it would be okay if I were to date you—if you want, I mean,” she added in a rush.
That jolted Rarity out of her reverie. A slow smile spread across her face. “I would be happy to,” she replied, leaning in to rub her cheek against Twilight’s. “I never would’ve expected all this from you.”
“I had a little help from an old friend.” Twilight grinned. She just couldn’t help herself. “You’ll love her when you meet her.”
“Oh, really?”
“Yes. She’s a horrible gossip, a tease, loves high fashion, and is, quite possibly, the biggest romantic in Equestria.”
Humming a moment, Rarity nodded. “Perhaps. But until then …” She laid her head against Twilight’s shoulder. “I think I’d like to stay here for a while longer.”
Twilight let her wings flare out wide, then wrapped them around Rarity. “Likewise.”
