Servant of the Queen

“Mmm…” Silver Rose hummed to herself as she dipped her long golden spoon into her ice cream sundae, picking up a dollop of Prench vanilla goodness. Crunchy almond bits were scattered over the treat, giving each mouthful a crispy texture. “This is great. How’s yours, Canvas?”

“It’s so good!” Canvas Splash exclaimed through a mouthful of her banana split. “I’m so glad you brought me here.”

The two girls were sitting in the more affluent part of Canterlot, under the shade of a parasol outside the shop Le Liqueur Chocolat. It was a renowned store that sold, as its name implied, liqueur chocolates, but over the years it had bloomed into a dessert bar as well. And in these sweltering days, it was often packed to the brim with people who wanted to cool down with a nice frozen treat. Ebony Wings had come here before, and there was an autographed photo hanging in the main building of the actress and some of the staff crowded around her table.

Silver Rose adjusted her maroon Discourse shirt and smiled. “Yeah, my mother recommended this place for a spot to cool down. It’s my first time here too.”

“Well, I’ll make sure to remember this establishment,” Canvas said contentedly. “Although, I can’t say it’s given me much inspiration.”

Canvas Splash had called up Silver Rose the previous day, asking if her friend could help her with a particularly stubborn case of artist’s block. Silver had been quick to agree to go, eager to see her artistic friend again.

“Sketchy’s also gone rather quiet. I wonder what’s up. Normally I’d just draw whatever, but… hmm, it’s odd. I don’t have that spark in my brain that’s telling me to do it, so I’m kinda stumped. Hey, do you think those colorful sprinkles go well with this?”

“No reason not to try,” Silver said, picking the cherry off the top of her ice cream and eating it. “I mean, it’s mostly sugar, isn’t it?”

Canvas picked up the sprinkles shaker and shook it over her banana split, covering it liberally with rainbow topping. “Hey, it’s pretty good!” Canvas said after a mouthful, dripping some on her purple shirt.

Silver smiled and went back to her own ice cream. It was nice, just sitting here with her friend without a care in the world.

Almost.

Across the street, a black car was parked with tinted windows. Silver knew her aunt was inside, probably watching her right now. It was easy to ignore her now, but it would be a grave mistake to forget that she was actually there the whole time.

You know to whom she answers. Silver thought to herself. Her aunt might be kind, supportive, and quick to help, but she still reported back to her mother, and despite the queen’s saying that she could hunt at greater leisure, it still made sense to be wary of what she did around her immediate family.

Still, there was no reason she couldn’t just sit here and enjoy the moment. Even though she couldn’t feel the heat, the ice cream was still nice.

“Maybe,” Canvas said, wiping a smudge of sauce away from her mouth. “I just need to find a subject that I haven’t drawn yet.”

Silver perked up at her friend’s idea. “Oh, really? Then, what haven’t you drawn?”

Canvas licked her spoon in thought. She looked serious, far more serious than Silver could remember seeing her friend before.

“That’s hard to say. I grew up in Canterlot. My first memories are of drawing things. I don’t think there’s a lot that I haven’t put my pencil to, maybe except into someone’s skull,” Canvas coughed. “And the more modern buildings just don’t have the flair or elegance to warrant a drawing. Bleh.”

“You don’t like modern architecture?” Silver asked pleasantly.

“Not really. It’s got too many hard angles and glass in it. I like buildings like your house, Silver. Tall and elegant, but also with enough of a presence to inspire an artist like me.”

“Have you drawn my house?” Silver asked curiously.

Canvas flipped through her sketchbook and produced an inked out drawing of the Wings’ Estate, almost down to the smallest details. She even had the tree that Ivory had chopped the branch from, when Home Run had snuck in.

“That’s actually really nice,” Silver said, staring at the drawing. “You know, you do a lot of drawing and painting, but I don’t think you’re being given enough credit for it.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m saying that your art is great, but not enough people know about it,” Silver explained. “If more people could see your art, then maybe they could commission you to do some drawings. Get your muse back.”

“You mean… like hold a showing or something?”

“Well, I meant something more along the lines of putting your art on the internet, but if you want to hold an exhibition, that’s fine too.”

Canvas tapped her spoon against her palm as she thought. “Sketchy and I have always wanted to have an exhibition, but I’ve never thought my art was good enough. Besides, people only pay to see big-name artists. I’m just in high school.”

“Hmm,” Silver Rose nodded. “But what if…”

“What if what?”

“I need to ask my mother and aunt first, but I’ll call you when I have something,” Silver said excitedly, wolfing down the rest of her dessert. She put a fifty dollar note on the table to pay for the ice creams, then waved goodbye to Canvas before crossing the street and getting into her aunt’s car.

Canvas watched all this happen, then shrugged and went back to her banana split. No reason not to enjoy the rest of it.

Inside the car, Ivory Wings gave her niece a loaded look.

“You ended that meeting rather quickly,” she said, starting the car. “May I ask why?”

“I had a great idea, Aunt Ivory!” Silver put on her seatbelt and leaned forward. “You and mother have a lot of influence in the art world, right?”

Ivory grimaced. “When I was Mirror Match, I did. I used to invite people to my apartments to look at my relics and paintings. Your mother is somewhat better connected, since she herself paints and has somewhat of a name in the artists’ circles. Why do you ask?”

Silver smiled. “Canvas wants some more exposure for her art. I was thinking maybe we could arrange a small exhibition for her or something.”

Ivory was silent, thinking as she drove down the street, somewhat less recklessly than she usually did.

“Perhaps. Do you have any samples of her artwork?”

“Not right now, but I can ask Canvas to send some photos over.”

“That sounds like a good plan. Once we have the samples, we can go on to convincing your mother to help.”

A short while later, Canvas had provided the necessary samples in Silver’s email. Printing them out, Silver Rose went to find her aunt and mother, who were at the time lounging in the living room with a cocktail each.

“Ah, there you are,” Ivory Wings said as Silver entered. “We were just talking about you. Would you like a drink?”

“Uh, sure. What is there?”

“Let me pour you a cocktail,” Ebony said, going over to the mini bar in the corner.

“Your majesty…” Ivory said warningly.

Ebony Wings sighed. “Yes, yes. I know she’s underage. I suppose you’ll want to stick to those silly human laws about young people not drinking alcohol? It wouldn’t affect us anyway.”

“Pour her a mocktail,” Ivory said tiredly. “We have a proposition for you anyway.”

“Oh?” Ebony’s ears seemed to perk up as she put the cherry in the glass. “What proposition is this?”

Silver cleared her throat. She wasn’t just doing this for herself; this was for Canvas Splash as well.

“My, uh, painter friend? Canvas? Do you remember her?”

“I never forget anyone, ever,” Ebony Wings said slowly. “Ever.”

“And yet you can’t remember the name of her school nor that of the boy she’s dating,” Ivory interjected sourly.

“A school does not count as a person,” Ebony said back. “And I’m more interested in what this Canvas has to offer than semantics.”

Seeing this as approval to continue, Silver held up the prints and said, “C-Canvas is having trouble finding things to draw, so I thought maybe we could have an exhibition with her art in it. That way more people could see her art, and maybe give her some suggestions…?”

Ebony Wings took the printouts and rifled through them.

“These are nice,” the actress said slowly. “Not as good as mine, but still, it’s quite good for a high school student. In twenty or so years, she might make some waves in the art industry herself. But not many people are interested in a youngster’s work unless it’s exemplary. And I don’t know if this fits the bill.”

“Oh.” Silver wasn’t sure how to respond.

“But,” Ebony began. “We don’t have to mention her age in the exhibition. Certainly I don’t give mine when my paintings are on display, though my reasons are a little more personal than others’.”

“So you’ll help me with it?” Silver could scarcely believe her ears.

“Arranging an art exhibition for someone I barely know?” Ebony said boredly. “Sure. It’s not like I have anything else to do in the next few weeks. I know a place in town I can rent for a gallery, as well as people who do framing. How much art do you want to show off?”

Silver Rose was beside herself with happiness. Her mother not only thought it was a good idea, but was willing to support and help her achieve this for her friend? She pinched herself, just in case it was a dream.

“T-Thank you, mother! Thank you so much!”

“Anything for my princess,” Ebony said with a lazy smile. She threw back the rest of her cocktail. “Now, once you find out how many pieces of art you want to display, come find me again and I’ll hire an appropriate venue.”

Silver didn’t need any more encouragement. She rushed out of the room, presumably to get her phone and call Canvas.

Ivory looked at Ebony. “That was a very generous thing you just did, sister,” she said.

“I’m a very generous person,” Ebony Wings replied. “Now, I feel like having another drink. Will you join me?”

“...And my mother said that if you can give her the number of pieces of art you want to display, she can hire a venue for your exhibition!” Silver finished, lying on her bed and kicking her legs back and forth in excitement.

“Really?” Canvas sounded ecstatic. “I’ll round up all the paintings and sketches and put them all together. Did your mom have a deadline?”

“No, she just said to get all the art together. How many do you think you have to display, Canvas?”

“Gosh, I don’t know. At least fifty, I would say! But I can’t be sure until I get it all together. Maybe I’ll ask Sketchy and my parents to help me with it.”

“That’s a good idea, Canvas,” Silver said. “I know I’m not an artist, but maybe I can come over and help you choose what you want in your exhibition?”

“Sure!” Canvas chirped on the phone. “How does the day after tomorrow sound?”

Silver looked at her calendar. “I don’t think I have anything else planned on Thursday. I’ll come over and help you choose.”

“Great! I’ll try to narrow the selection down a bit before then. See you on Thursday!”

Silver ended the call and put down her phone. She wondered just what kind of art Canvas would want to put in her exhibition. She hoped it wasn’t something embarrassing like nude paintings, but hey, it was art. She didn’t have to understand it.

Silver sat up, only to be greeted by the sight of her mother standing at the foot of the bed.

“Gah!” Silver jumped and fell off the bed onto the floor. “Mother! When did you get here?”

“Just now,” Ebony Wings said. “May I sit down?”

“Oh! S-Sure. You don’t have to ask my permission to sit down,” Silver said, climbing back up onto her bed.

Ebony Wings alighted on the bed, next to her daughter.

“Now, about this exhibition. I think the maximum number of pieces the venue will display is thirty medium sized ones or twenty large pieces. Any more than that and it just gets over-abundant, and nobody likes that. Keep that in mind when you go to your friend’s house to choose what to show.”

“I’ll remember that, mother,” Silver said, making a mental note of what she had been told.

“Good. Now, there’s something else I wanted to talk to you about.”

Silver braced herself for another tirade about Home Run and her meals.

“It’s a little over two months until the blood moon,” Ebony said seriously. “Your aunt has been working tirelessly in order to gather the information and resources necessary to repair the sirens’ pendants.”

Silver listened with polite interest. This was not the way she had expected the conversation to go, but she was grateful her mother wanted to speak with her about something other than her hunting prowess.

“As such, each of us has a part to play to ensure that her plan succeeds,” Ebony continued. “I have spoken with your aunt about this, and we both believe that in the case of someone coming to stop the pendants from being repaired on the night of the blood moon, there needs to be a gatekeeper or guardian to ensure that does not happen.”

“Are you talking about me?” Silver asked carefully.

Ebony Wings patted her daughter on the head. “We have decided to use the tallest hill in Canterlot Park as the site to perform the magical ritual that will fix the gems. Now, there is only one way up there, if one does not go through the trees. You will stand guard at the entrance to the hill on the night of the blood moon, and make sure nobody undesired gets to the top until the repairs are complete.”

Silver was touched. “You would trust me with such an important task?” she asked quietly.

“It’s not by my choice, I’ll tell you that,” Ebony said dismissively. “But your aunt must see to the gems, and a queen does not set foot on the battlefield unless all her servants have fallen. So it must be you.”

“Oh.” Silver deflated a little bit.

“I’m preparing an outfit for you to wear on the night,” Silver’s mother informed her. “You may use your sword as well.”

“No guns?” Silver asked, surprised. She had trained a lot with firearms and had been looking forward to putting her training to the test.

Ebony Wings shook her head. “Guns are noisy, guns can jam. But your sword will never let you down in a fight. If there comes to be one.” The actress looked into the corner, brooding. “I hope there isn’t.”

Silver eyed her mother. It was clear there was something she wasn’t telling her.

“Regardless, I’ll have your suit sent up later this month for fitting.” Ebony Wings stood up to leave. “Remember, we’re doing this to help the sirens. And ourselves. But mostly them. Still,” she said, going to the door. “That’s more than two months off. So don’t think too much about it. Keep your mind on the exhibition, and enjoy yourself with your friend.”

And so it was that Silver Rose found herself in front of a large, two storey house on Thursday, waiting for the door to open after she rang the doorbell. Today, she had on a simple grey shirt and a pleated skirt that she never got to wear much.

There was the sound of a chain rattling, then the front door eased open.

“Silver Rose! You’re here!” Canvas said happily. “Come in, come in.”

The smell of paint and ink invaded Silver’s nose as soon as she stepped into the house. There were paintings and sketches hung up all over the walls in no particular order.

“I’ve got most of my paintings in the living room,” Canvas said as she led her friend down the hall. Being at home, Canvas was decked in a stained yellow shirt with a purple lumpy character on it, along with blue shorts. “We can pick out which ones to show.”

“Mother said that you should pick thirty medium sized pieces or twenty big ones,” Silver told Canvas. “What qualifies as medium or big anyway?”

“Medium is about A3 size,” Canvas replied. “Anything at A1 or bigger is big.”

The living room was just as much in disarray as the foyer. There were easels set up all around, and drawing pads littered the chairs and couches.

“Anyway, I gathered together some of my favorite pieces, and there’s about fifty of them here. We can pick and choose which ones to display!”

“Uh, sure,” Silver replied. She looked around at all the artwork around her. Canvas had clearly not been idle in her vacation.

“First, I thought we should look through the oils and acrylics, because those are the biggest ones. Did your mom say anything about a combination of big and smaller pieces?”

“Ah, no.”

Canvas shrugged. “Then I guess we’ll just see what you like. It’s good to have a layman’s opinion on what good art is. No offense.”

Silver shrugged. “None taken. I’m not the best eye when it comes to art.”

“Which makes you perfect for predicting what will go over well and what won’t,” Canvas exclaimed. “Let’s start with this one. It’s a painting I did about six months ago. I call it Despair.”

The painting, done in oils, was of a grim figure cloaked in blacks and reds, holding up a knife. It was definitely a spooky piece.

“That’s cool, I guess,” Silver nodded. “What does it mean?”

“You can’t just have an artist tell you what their art means,” Canvas shook her head. “It’s up to the beholder to find meaning in it.”

“Ah, of course,” Silver backpedaled, putting a hand under her chin in an attempt to look insightful. “My mistake.”

“Oh, oh, how about this one?” Canvas pulled Silver over to a portrait of a castle with seven fountains in the courtyard. “What does this one say to you?”

“Uh…” Silver peered at the painting. It certainly looked grand, with pennants blowing in the wind and the expertly done arcs of water coming from the fountains. “It says… security? Like this is a place where I could be safe?”

Canvas nodded, but didn’t look pleased. “I see…” she said mysteriously. “I wonder if that’s how others will see it. Oh well. On to the next one!”

By the time Canvas Splash and Silver Rose had finished picking out what paintings would be shown at the gallery, the sun had already gone down.

“Oh, would you look at the time,” Canvas exclaimed, looking at a grandfather clock that was half hidden behind an easel. “I’ve kept you here for six hours!”

“No, really?” Silver said, trying to keep a pleasant face despite her desire to run out of the house and never talk about art ever again. “Ha ha… how time flies. Yeah.”

“Mom and Dad will be home soon,” Canvas said, shifting a sketchpad off the couch so that she could sit down. “Do you want to stay for dinner? I’m sure my parents would love to ask your opinion on their art, too.”

Silver’s eye twitched. “Oh, uh. It’s very nice of you to offer, but I have to be home for a…thing. Yeah. I promised to help my sister with something. Sorry.”

Canvas didn’t seem disappointed. Rather, she was in good spirits as she waved goodbye to her friend, a familiar black car driving up to receive her.

“Bye!” Canvas called, standing on the curb until the car was out of sight.

“Did you have a good time, Silver?” Ivory asked as she turned the car for home.

Silver smiled. “You know, as a matter of fact, I did!”