The Handmaiden

"Dinnertime, prisoners!"

Though her body was thoroughly beaten from a long day of work, Pinkie dragged herself to her feet and trudged forward out of her cell, empty stomach snarling like a caged beast. Weakly, she made her way forth, following the flow of prisoners being led along by the guards to the mess hall. The only thing that kept her moving was the scent of the strange meat that the prisoners were sometimes afforded in their stew. No one knew what the meat truly was, though the guards claimed it was goat or sheep. Pinkie wasn't an expert, but she didn't believe that. She theorized that it was dog, but it was better for everyone if she didn't think about it.

"Hello again, my delicious little lamb."

Pinkie shuddered in surprise and disgust at the voice that approached from beside her. Among the sea of fellow inmates emerged a lanky, disheveled woman at least a decade Pinkie's elder . Her stringy, greasy hair was, as far as Pinkie could tell, once brilliant blonde. Now, it was matted with dirt and dried blood, giving it a much darker, dingier tone. She got a bit too close to Pinkie, nearly knocking into her as the two neared the mess hall.

"What do you want?" grumbled Pinkie. Her eyes darted around in search of a guard, relaxing slightly when she saw that the guards on either side of the prisoner line was watching them intently.

"I want your kidneys on my dinner plate." The inmate cackled, licking her lips at Pinkie's obvious discomfort. She never gave her name, nor did the guards seem to know it, but Captain Scootaloo once referred to her as a "twisted freak", and so the name Twisty stuck with her. "I'll settle for a kiss, though."

"Aren't you supposed to be out on the Branches for another four days?"

"They let me back in. Good behavior, they said." Twisty wrapped an arm around Pinkie, and drew her closer. "Now, about that kiss…"

"You know, even if you weren't a horrifying beast, the answer would still be no. I am spoken for, as you no doubt know." Carefully, Pinkie removed Twisty's arm from her shoulder, hurrying along as they entered the mess. They were given their trays of slightly moldy bread and unidentified meat stew, then directed to sit at one of the many rickety wooden tables in the hall, lost among the sea of inmates. Much to Pinkie's irritation, Twisty sat beside her, and dipped a finger into Pinkie's stew.

"You know, I fell in love with a married woman once, years ago." Twisty sighed wistfully, sucking the stew from her fingertips. "She cried like a babe when she saw me cut out her husband's guts."

"Such a romantic…" Pinkie grabbed her dish up and sipped the bitter, muddy stew, hoping to eat as quickly as she could. Twisty, conversely, took a much slower, more methodical approach to her meal, slowly slurping her stew with the intention of making Pinkie as uncomfortable as possible. "Have you no other friends to bother?"

"Friends? You and I aren't friends, my lamb. You're my next victim, and that means we are much, much closer than mates. Closer even than your betrothed, wherever she may be." Twisty purred as she slid in even closer, an evil-drenched smirk across her features. "You may have promised this Sparkle girl your heart, but I will be the one to actually hold it. And it will taste oh so sweet, my lamb…"

"You're off your rocker. I'll have you know, that 'Sparkle girl' is the royal handmaiden, and she has powerful, dangerous magick. If you harm even a hair on my head…" grumbled Pinkie. "She will make you regret that, dearly."

"Of course. That is, if what you say is true. If we're being honest, no one buys your little tall tale," cackled the madwoman. "As if anyone would ever believe that you're shagging the Empress' right hand."

"She is the love of my life. She's going to get me out of here, and we will marry and grow old together," said Pinkie, lacking in much of her former conviction in regards to her lover. The sad truth was that, after all of this time, she was still imprisoned, while her Twilight was not. It became difficult to continue believing what she knew must be true, for the simple fact that she saw no progress towards their dream. "And if you hurt me, you will not be afforded the luxury of growing old at all."

"If she loves you, then how come she hasn't come to see you? I've been in this jail with you for a year or so, and I've never even seen this Sparkle girl you claim loves you so. So, where is your wife-to-be?"

"She… Surely the Empress is responsible," argued Pinkie. She felt a spark in her chest, the answer that she stumbled upon suddenly giving her a bit of hope. Of course it was Celestia, everything that went wrong in her life was due to Celestia. "The Empress forbade her from seeing me for a bit, but it does not matter. Because my Twilight is clever, and she'll find a way to be with me." Twisty shimmied even nearer, and Pinkie felt that familiar pit grow in her stomach, an unfettered and unwavering discomfort, bordering on terror, filling her being. "S-she won't like to learn how you've been behaving. She will surely punish you…"

"Heheh. You're so pretty when you're scared." Twisty looked around and, when she saw the guards were distracted, she smirked. "Would you like to see something, my lamb? I got you a gift."

Twisty reached into her tunic and slowly withdrew a small, sleek, wickedly sharp dagger, giggling at the way the color flooded from Pinkie's face. She held the blade in her right hand, and with her left hand, she pulled Pinkie in close. The dagger stood beneath the table, so that no one but Twisty and Pinkie could see it. Pinkie froze in fear when the tip of the dagger gently danced across her torso, tracing up and along her hip in tune with Twisty's demented humming.

"Where did you get that?" whispered Pinkie.

"Nicked it from one of those rookie guards that were here a month back. Been holding onto it until the next time I got to see my luscious lamb," giggled Twisty. "I've used a lot of knives, but this one is my favorite, because it's the one I'm going to use to kill you."

"E-easy now. Let's not be rash…"

"Your screams are going to be so delicious, lamb. I've thought about it since I met you. I can hardly sleep most nights, for I'm fantasizing about how you'll squeal when I slice the skin from your body, swath by swath, and use it for a quilt." Twisty laughed maniacally as she dragged the tip of her dagger down the length of Pinkie's thigh, not quite hard enough to break the skin, but enough to frighten the poor girl nonetheless. "You're going to keep me so warm…"

"Twisty, please… There's guards everywhere," Pinkie whimpered. "You won't even get to enjoy it before they're sending you off to the block."

"Don't you get it, lamb? I'm to be executed in a week regardless. And if I'm dead, then I won't get to feel your heart stop. That just won't do. So let's just enjoy one last meal together before I slice your belly open and—"

Pinkie grabbed her tray and, with all of her strength, swung it forcefully into Twisty's face, stealing away her demented ramblings and replacing them with the clattering of steel against skull. She madly scrambled forward, screeching and shouting for help as she bounded over the surface of the table. Twisty let out a furious shout and took pursuit, even as Pinkie ran for the nearest guard, who only just then realized that something was afoot. The guard gestured to a comrade and shouted something Pinkie couldn't quite make out.

In an instant, what felt like a wall of metal slammed into Pinkie, knocking her flat on her back. Before she could attempt to recover, a weight forced itself down onto her head; the guard pressured her knee against Pinkie's throat to keep her restrained while one of her fellows tackled Twisty to the ground in a similar manner. There was a commotion, no doubt from the several nearby inmates who took this opportunity to be rowdy and boisterous, but Pinkie could hardly pay any attention to that due to her struggle to breathe, and the shouting of the guards as they tried to reclaim control.

"Oi! Hands on the table, 'less you want them lopped off!"

Pinkie squirmed slightly, wheezing and struggling to draw breath as the Captain of the guard approached; though small in stature, Captain Scootaloo was renowned for her fearsome temper and iron will, and she was respected by most all of Golden Oak's inmates. As soon as her voice rang throughout the mess hall, the fighting stopped, and the prisoners reluctantly took their seats.

"Bloom, is there a reason you're suffocating my prisoner?" asked the Captain as she approached

"She attacked this one, then rushed us, sir," replied the guard with her knee on Pinkie's throat. "We simply restrained them both."

"So Pie has been in this tree for how long with nary an incident, and you think she suddenly just clattered another inmate?"

"She… has a knife…" gasped Pinkie. The Captain glanced at Twisty and, without a word, swung her boot into the prisoner's midsection. Twisty grunted in pain and turned over, letting her stolen weapon tumble across the floor. Scootaloo grabbed it up and inspected it for a second before sliding the dagger into her belt.

"Get off of her, Bloom. She was only defending herself."

"Yes, sir!" Bloom stood up to allow Pinkie a chance to breathe and, after a moment of contemplation, stooped down to help the prisoner to her feet. "What about this one?"

"You just don't learn, do you?" Captain Scootaloo crouched down to look Twisty in the eye, scowling at the deranged killer. "If it was up to me, you'd have been dead before you stepped foot in my tree. I'd call you lucky, but if the Empress wants you alive, then perhaps you'd be happier off dead."

"That one guard I killed. Something Spoon, no? She was your friend, wasn't she?" growled Twisty. "She pissed herself when she saw me chewing on her innards. Such a fucking coward. She tasted delicious."

"Hm. You, there." The Captain pointed to the guard that was restraining Twisty. "I want you to break this thing's arms. Then, its legs. And then, I'm going to string it upside down from its ankles, and leave it to hang from the Branches." Scootaloo stood up and brought her boot forward to crash into Twisty's face, smashing her nose to a bloody mess, and knocking a tooth loose against the wooden floors. "Perhaps a week in the rain will teach it to shut up for a bit."

"Yes, sir."

Twisty was dragged away, kicking and screaming and slinging swears and threats all the way, much to Pinkie's relief. She looked up to Captain Scootaloo and gave the smallest beginnings of a smile, though the guard never looked at her; Scootaloo had her eyes trained in the screaming murderer that was being pulled away. Once the yelling had gone quiet, she finally turned to her prisoner, though she still didn't grant Pinkie a smile in return.

"Thank you…" wheezed Pinkie, massaging her throat.

"Don't. Bloom, get her in chains," ordered Scootaloo. Pinkie's eyes went wide, and she felt the cold clasp of iron manacles around her wrists before she could even voice her displeasure. "With me. We need to move her."

"Wait… I've not done anything!" protested Pinkie. She stumbled forward when Bloom shoved her, leading her away while the entire mess hall looked on in amusement. "Please… I didn't even get to finish supper…"

Her guards gave no reply as they pulled her away, out of the mess and into the echoey corridors of the hollowed out tree. Pinkie could swear she could hear the sound of her heart thumping against Golden Oak's walls, her fear only mounting when they arrived at her cell, and the Captain kept walking. Even Bloom looked confused, but rather than question her superior, she simply kept pulling Pinkie along. Finally, after they had passed the cells and were on their way to The Vines, Bloom could keep her curiosity contained no longer.

"Sir? I thought we were bringing her back to her cell," remarked Bloom. Scootaloo shook her head, then stepped into the platform held by the magickal Vines of Golden Oak Prison; once Pinkie and Bloom were secure, the Captain tugged the Central Vine and sent them down the slow, rickety descent down to the base of the tree. "What are we doing with her?"

"As I said, moving her. She's meant to be out of the tree by sunrise," said the Captain plainly. Pinkie felt her blood run cold when Scootaloo shot her a glance over the shoulder. "Orders from on high."

"What does Empress Celestia want with her?"

"Hmph. Not the Empress. Higher."

"What in three hells could be higher than Empress Celestia?" scoffed Bloom. The Captain chuckled and gave a noncommittal shrug.

"The only person who can look the High Queen in the eyes, ask her for something, and actually get it."

"Ah. That Sparkle girl…" Bloom gave a little snort and shook her head. "Kingdom must be going down the gutters, if that broomhandle's got the Empress eating out of the palm of her hand."

"Oi. Madame Sparkle is the royal handmaiden, and chancellor in all but name. You ought to show her some respect," said the Captain. She averted her gaze. "Besides, she's not as bad as you say…"

"C-Captain? Forgive my intrusion, but…" said Pinkie nervously. "You know Twilight?"

"I do. She's a good woman. We have…" The Captain stiffened her jaw, then corrected herself. "We had a… mutual acquaintance. She took care of that acquaintance when I could not, and forever earned my respect."

"Then, if I may ask… where has she been? I haven't seen her for ages. She used to visit me all the time, yet, surely a year ago by now, she just… stopped." Pinkie swallowed her heart back down, as she found the silence she received in answer to her question to be nearly as chilling as Twisty's earlier threats. "I understand if you cannot divulge her activities, so just tell me this. Is she well?"

"She is well, yes. As to why she hasn't visited… that is her business alone. Even if I knew, it would not be my place to say." The Vines slowly lurched to a stop, and, after a wave from The Captain, Bloom pushed Pinkie forward. "Now, quiet. Don't want any of these bastards thinking I'm showing any favorites. Bloom, you're going to be riding with them. Make sure the lot of them arrive in one piece. Carriage is waiting just outside."

"Yes, sir. Come along, Pie." Bloom grabbed Pinkie by the manacles and pulled her forth. "How many more are there?"

"Two dozen. More on the way, or so I hear." Captain Scootaloo sighed, shaking her head tiredly. "I'm not sure what you're meant to do with them, but I've been told you'll receive more instruction when you arrive."

"You won't be coming?"

"Can't. Someone has to run this tree. Besides…" The Captain's jaw twitched, and Pinkie could see the anger bubbling behind those tiny, beady eyes. "I've got a meeting with that murderer."

"I'll trade you shifts, if you like," remarked Bloom. Scootaloo rolled her eyes and shook her head. "Fine, then. Just make sure to kick the shite out of that bitch for me. Spoon was my friend, too."

"I will. Once I'm done getting my own licks in." The Captain returned to The Vines and tugged, slowly raising the platform she stood on. "Hurry along, Bloom. I don't know who all is meant to be moved, but two dozen inmates is no small feat. You'll have help, but make sure none of these dogs eat Pie."

Pinkie watched over her shoulder as the Captain disappeared back into the tree. Scootaloo had not succeeded in making Pinkie feel at ease, if that was even her intention. The one solace that Pinkie always took was that Captain Scootaloo, while perhaps a bit harsh and aggressive, seemed to genuinely have the best interests of her prisoners in mind. Now, she was no longer a factor. If the Gods were feeling especially cruel, perhaps her relocation would even land her back under watch of Captain Spearhead. Surely not, Pinkie determined. Twilight wouldn't ever do such a thing to her. She would never push Pinkie in the direction of that terrible, horrible man, just as she would never abandon her, never leave her alone. Never desert her.

Pinkie swallowed her heart, finding that it would be much easier to believe such things were Twilight there to hold her hand, and walk through hells with her.

"Handmaiden Sparkle!"

Twilight tried her best to avoid rolling her eyes, but she was unsure as to how successful she was. Even still, it mattered not. She simply kept Belle cantering along the road to the castle, not increasing in speed, but hoping that her obvious ignoring of the voice would cause it to go away; No such luck, as a burst of pattering footsteps brought the source of the annoyance closer, until it was running alongside Twilight and her loyal steed. The handmaiden let out a tired sigh, and slowed Belle to a trot before looking down to face the irritant.

"Good afternoon, Treasurer Grace," said Twilight, with as much respect and faux-politeness that she could muster. "To what do I owe the honour?"

"The only thing you owe, Handmaiden, is an explanation!" said Grace. She carried with her a stack of parchments, one of which she all but threw at Twilight. "What in three hells is this?"

"Well, let's see." Twilight accepted the parchment and, after barely giving it a glance, returned it to Grace. "That appears to be a writ for the allocation of castle funding, signed off on by me and stamped with the Empress' approval."

"I know what it is—!"

"Then I am confused as to why you asked."

"Because, for some ungodly reason, you have seen fit to siphon thousands of coin out of the Treasury to send it…" Grace very quickly flipped through her papers. "Cloudsdale? A dirty little mining village?"

"Their jail needed repairs, so I prepared a plan to pay for them. We can spare the coin, and it would be beneficial to a growing township like Cloudsdale to have a functional prison," explained Twilight, needlessly, for there was a single soul she needed to justify her actions to; Treasurer Grace certainly was not her. "It would also allow some of the strain to be taken off of Canterlot and Golden Oak, as it would give us a place to put less dangerous criminals. I do not think it is right to put rapists and murderers in the same tree as some poor girl who stole a piece of fruit to avoid starvation."

"Where on our budget do you see that we can spare the coin, Handmaiden? We've reached our allotted spending for the season."

"Simple. I found some non-essential projects and diverted the funds from there. Which would you rather have, Treasurer?" Despite this being a question, Twilight unfortunately knew the Treasurer enough to predict her answer. "A safer, cleaner kingdom? Or a sixth cotillion in half as many months?"

"Aside from these cotillions being exceptionally important to the culture of Canterlot nobility, it is a much-needed morale boost for those of us who don't have the pleasure of tea with the Empress whenever we fancy. Besides that, you're taking money out of the salary budget, many members of staff are going to be receiving severe pay cuts thanks to your little prison project."

"And by 'many members of staff', I presume you are referring to yourself?" sighed Twilight. She glanced down at the treasurer with a barely-withheld contempt that Twilight reserved especially for Canterlot nobility. "I reviewed the numbers myself, multiple times over. I found the money, with relative ease."

"Respectfully, Handmaiden, I was unable to find excess funds, and I have been practicing arithmetic and calculations on a Royal level for well over a decade," responded Grace. Whereas the handmaiden contained as much of her vitriol as she could, Treasurer Grace wore her smug venom with a grin. Even her use of the title of "Handmaiden" was clearly facetious, a saccharine sweetness that struggled to cover the bitter vinegar beneath."And where were you a decade ago, Handmaiden?"

"A decade ago? Let's see." Twilight reined Belle to a stop, and looked down with cold disdain. "I was likely starving, curled up on a cold floor of petrified wood. Getting beaten by prison guards. Cracking my fingernails against wood and stones. Breaking my back doing hard labor. If I was lucky, perhaps even finding a live rat to bite into, raw, and rabidly shredding its diseased flesh with my teeth like the wild, untamed, savage animal I truly am." Twilight turned back to the road, and set Belle back along the path. "Is that the answer you wanted to hear, Treasurer? So you can justify your continued prejudice against me?"

"My point is that even five years ago, you would have been unable to even read this report. What makes you believe that you can do my job better than I can?"

"I do not. I am simply more willing to do it. To put it plainly, Treasurer Grace, you did not find excess funds in the budget because you did not want to. Because those excess funds are going directly into your purse. Cloudsdale needs the extra coin, Treasurer. You do not. Do not make it sound as though I am stealing food out of the mouths of hungry servants, nor should you give the impression that you would even care if I was. I took money only from accounts that could sacrifice the gold, and you are fortunate enough to be able to afford that."

As they approached the castle gate, Twilight thought that should have been the end of it, and yet, to her dismay, Treasurer Grace stuck alongside her. Twilight dismounted, and gently patted Belle on the neck and, partly to avoid speaking with Grace further, began digging through her satchel. It was only when she emerged with a fresh, delicious carrot to feed her mare did Twilight return her attention to the Treasurer.

"Your disapproval is unfortunately too late, Treasurer. The gold has already been transferred, and work on the prison has already begun. It is irreversible," said Twilight, watching the treasurer fume with rage. "I am sorry you oppose my decision, but it has already been made, and approved by the Empress. Is there anything else I can do for you?"

"Handmaiden, I swear it to you, you will not make a mockery of my profession," snarled Grace. "For as long as I am Treasurer, I swear that you will not move another damned coin without my approval."

"Oh. Understood." Twilight blinked, then smiled a wicked little smile. "If that is the case, you're fired. Effective immediately, you are to be removed from your position as Treasurer. You have until sunset to collect your things from your office."

Though it was crass, immature, and unbefitting of a woman of her stature, Twilight couldn't help but be distinctly amused by Grace's reaction.

"I—! You—!" For once, the ex-Treasurer was without words. "How dare you! Who the hells do you think you are, Handmaiden? You can't fire me!"

"I think I am her Empress' most trusted confidant, the one she put her faith in to write up the very writ that you find yourself so upset by," said Twilight firmly. "I also think, Miss Grace, that I am a lady of the castle, same as you once were. I would caution you to address me with the respect and honour I am due."

"Are you threatening me, Handmaiden?"

"No, Miss Grace, that was moreso a friendly warning." Twilight's expression switched to a cold, intense, frightening scowl. "The next time you fail to address me properly, I will inflict upon you an agony and suffering that would impress even my Empress." Grace paled a bit at that, and so Twilight softened her features a bit. "That was a threat. Quite the difference, no?" Grace slowly nodded. "Good. Now, let us try it properly. 'Farewell, Madame Sparkle'. Now you try."

"Farewell… Madame Sparkle." The words seemed to pain Grace, but it was preferable to the alternative.

"Much better. Now go fetch your things, before it gets too late. The Daybreakers do not care for trespassers." Twilight watched with a stoney glare as the ex-Treasurer considered arguing and, after a moment, finally conceited defeat; with little more than a whimpering little growl, Grace sulked into the castle to gather her belongings. Finally, Twilight let out a sigh, glad to have this particular headache behind her. She tugged on Belle's reins, drawing her nearer the entrance, and smirked as she was met with her favorite cellarmaid. "Ah, Ms. Fluttershy. Right on time, as usual."

"Good afternoon, Madame Sparkle," said Fluttershy, kissing the sun and giving a polite smile. "Or as good as an afternoon can be, when dealing with such… unpleasantness."

"Hmph. Miss Grace lived far too much of her life getting precisely what she wants. She was woefully unprepared to face someone who refused to bend to her will."

"Mhhm. You can be quite ferocious, when you've got your mind set on things."

"What, you mean what I said? I didn't mean it, honestly. I wouldn't ever really hurt Grace over such a trivial conflict," said Twilight with a tiny grin. She quite enjoyed polite conversation with the cellarmaid, though she sometimes wondered how truthful their friendship was; only a year ago, Twilight had killed her brother, though if Fluttershy knew precisely how involved Twilight was in Zephyr's death, she didn't mention it. Indeed, it was better for their professional relationship that the topic was not broached. "That said, I believe I've worked hard, taking up the chancellor's duties as well as my own. Hard enough to have earned my title, and a smidge of respect."

"You won't hear me disagree with that, Madame Sparkle." The cellarmaid grasped Belle's reins and gently stroked the mare's neck. "Shall I take Belle to her stable now?"

"Yes, please and thank you. I would do it myself, but I have a date with Celestia soon, and I can't possibly go out looking like this." Twilight gestured to her attire; a silk gown, laced with gold, valued at more than Fluttershy's entire wardrobe. "I need to make myself presentable. Oh, and when you do take Belle, would you kindly check her hooves? She seemed to be a bit slow and uncomfortable today."

"Yes, she's been complaining of pain for a few days now," nodded Fluttershy. "She needs new shoes, methinks. I've put in a request with an excellent farrier, he should be arriving later today. I'll keep Belle comfortable until then."

"Thank you. Now, if you excuse me…" Twilight stepped around the cellarmaid, folding her arms behind her back as she strode through the halls. "Until we meet again, Ms. Fluttershy. Take care."

Without waiting for a response, Twilight departed, strolling throughout the castle with a single destination in mind; it was a short little jaunt from the castle gates to the royal bedchambers, where a hot bath was awaiting her. One of Fluttershy's duties, aside from tending to the cellars and caring for Belle, was ensuring that Twilight had all she needed to be comfortable when she returned to the castle, and today was no different. Once she made it to the bedchambers, and gave a mostly pointless greeting to the Daybreakers that stood post outside, Twilight slipped into the attached washroom and lowered herself into the tub of warm, soapy water. After a brief soak and wash, she emerged from the water, clean as a whistle, and nudely strode into the bedchamber proper. She barely had time to wrap herself up in a warm towel before, right on time, the doors opened, and in stepped her mistress.

"Well, aren't I lucky?" mused Celestia, slyly closing the door behind her. "What a beautiful sight…"

"You know, for as often as you have seen me nude," remarked Twilight. "I would have thought it would lose it's charm by now."

"You underestimate just how lucious your body is, my dear. And, to be accurate, you're not quite nude yet." Celestia smirked as Twilight, with a cheeky, well-natured roll of the eyes, dropped her towel to the ground and bared her body to her Empress. "Much better…"

"Oh, hush, you. And you'd best be satisfied by just looking for now, I've got to get ready."

"Well, don't stop on my account." The Empress watched with a grin as Twilight strutted across the room to begin rifling through her wardrobe. Though she would deny it if asked, it was quite evident that Twilight swing her hips a bit more than was absolutely necessary, no doubt to give her Empress a show. "So, what have you been getting into today? I've not seen you since breakfast."

"Met with Captain Scootaloo over a mead to discuss the prison project. She reckons the first carriage of prisoners should arriving at the Cloudsdale prison in two or three days, depending on the weather. It snows rather early that far north," said Twilight, comparing dresses to decide on her preferred ensemble. She finally settled on a white gown that had a brilliant gold sash around the middle. "Once we were done, we visited Sweetie. Her garden is coming along quite nicely."

"Mhhm. And what was that commotion at the gates? I heard murmurings of some drama once I exited my meeting."

"Ah. I ran into Ms. Grace. Seems she finally got around to reading the stack of documents I had left her, and she was none too pleased by my writ." Twilight chuckled darkly. "Suffice it to say, we need a new treasurer."

"You sacked her? Ms. Grace was incredibly lucky that I did not concern myself much with finances, else she would have met this fate far sooner," said Celestia with a nod. "Of course, now this means we need to look got a replacement. I'll have to begin searching for—"

"Actually, your Greatness, Ms. Grace had an apprentice by the name of Raven Inkwell. I spoke to her a few days ago, and she is very skilled, knows Canterlot accounts intimately, and is far more agreeable than Ms. Grace." Twilight smirked, thoroughly pleased with herself. "I'd like our search for a new treasurer to start with her, if possible."

"Heh. You've been planning this for some time, eh? Well, Twilight Sparkle, I urge you to slow down." The Empress betrayed the sterness of her words with a gentle smile. "Keep this behavior up and we'll soon need to conquer a new land for you to reign over yourself."

"Actually, I've had my eye on Crystala." Twilight's tone walked the line between jest and earnest, with razor precision. "Beautiful settlement up to the north that's been on the rise as of late. Their Duke is even calling it a Crystal Empire in it's infancy."

"Hmph. To call yourself any sort of empire while mine still stands… That Duke must be a bold man," remarked the Empress. Her brow went up when Twilight's expression changed for just a moment, revealing some sort of bitterness.

"Yes. He is." Twilight spoke with some amount of malice, and a familiarity of sorts, as if she knew the man. Just as quickly as it flashed to her features, it faded away, and she quickly changed the subject; she grabbed two collars from her jewelry box and held them aloft. "Which do you prefer? The red leather or the white?" Celestia did not respond straight away, and Twilight turned to face the Empress with concern. "Or… is there perhaps a third option you fancy?"

"You know, if it displeases you… you needn't wear the collar anymore," said the Empress. "It was a needless act of cruelty on my part, and I do not wish to subject you to it any further."

Twilight pursed her lips, pensively rubbing the dark red leather strap with her thumb. It felt like so long ago that she had first been collared and, yet, she could remember it like yesterday. The snug grip of leather constricting her throat, the cold clasp of the buckle latching into place. The humiliation she felt when people first saw her marked as the Empress' property. And yet, when Chancellor Rarity first saw the collar, she did not look upon Twilight with disgust or mockery, but with envy, instead.

"When you first gave me the collar, I hated it. And I hated you, for making me wear it. I saw it as nothing more than a new indignity, a mark of my inferiority, a symbol of your ownership of my very flesh," said Twilight. "And perhaps that is what it was meant to be, at first. But now… Now, I see it as a badge. I wear your symbol on my neck because I am like you, and that is far from an indignity. The collar, whatever your initial intentions, is now a mark of excellence. None but the very best and brightest get to be marked by their Empress, and none bear this mark but I. And so, if it is all the same to you, my Empress…" Twilight stepped closer to Celestia, and held the red collar to her neck, then the white one. "Do you prefer the red leather? Or the white?"

The Empress paused, engrossed in thought, and letting a rare glimmer of emotion show across her features. It was a complex look, many feelings washing over her at once, and some of them even conflicting. But, beneath all of that, Twilight saw something undeniable: a sense of relief. Finally, after a moment of contemplation, the Empress smirked and replied.

"Red leather. The white one goes well with the dress."

"Then should you not prefer the white?" asked Twilight with bemusement.

"Ordinarily, yes. But, in an hour or so, your dress is going to be on my floor, regardless. Why waste the collar?" chuckled Celestia. She cupped Twilight's breast gently with one hand, the other grabbing the handmaiden from behind. "Of course, we can do whatever we want. Who's to say that we have to wait an hour?"

"Oh? And what would we do instead?" Twilight rolled her eyes playfully as she strapped her collar on, her breathing hitching when Celestia brushed a thumb across her soft pink nipple. "I don't imagine you'd be content to spend a quiet afternoon in bed with a nice book and a tray of sweets?"

"Oh, I have every intention of enjoying a sweet treat." Celestia pressed herself against Twilight even closer, and slipped a hand between the handmaiden's thighs. "What I plan to do to you will be far from quiet, however."

"Hngh… How can the great, prosperous leader of Equestria secretly be such a pervert?"

"I'll have you know, I worked my shapely backside off to ensure that my kingdom is the greatest to ever exist. I think I've earned the right to a bit of degeneracy."

"Well, I suggest you keep that 'shapely backside' covered for a bit longer." Twilight gently guided Celestia's hands away and, though it was clear that the High Queen would prefer to continue molesting her pet, she let her hands go down by her side. "We've got subjects from outside of Canterlot making the journey to see this. It would be wrong to deprive them of the spectacle. Besides, we may be calling it a date but, at the end of the day, it is still royal business." She could tell that Celestia was less than ecstatic regarding that argument, so Twilight sought to amend. "I assure you, my Queen, we can postpone all further duties for the day. Show some patience. If you can swear to keep your hands to yourself for an hour or so, my body will be yours until sunrise."

"Hmph. Fine. I swear it to you, my dear," mumbled Celestia, her somewhat grumpy demeanor betrayed by the light air of laughter in her voice, and the beginnings of a smirk on her lips. She stepped away and turned away, in a mostly humorous display, to allow Twilight the requisite privacy to get herself decent. "You know, you're quite the negotiator. I've taught you well."

With the Empress turned away, and her guard lowered, Twilight deviously struck; with an open palm, she swatted the Empress' rear, earning a surprised little "meep" from the High Queen. Celestia stood up a bit straighter, and, when she turned back to look at her handmaiden, her pale face was rosy red and blushing. Twilight grinned with smug satisfaction before going about dressing herself for her date.

"That, you did, my Queen," chortled the handmaiden. "Taught me well, indeed."

The royal carriage rolled to a stop at the city square, and, after the heralds blew their horns to announce the arrival of royalty, Twilight stepped out of the carriage. She rounded the vehicle and opened the door, taking her Empress by the hand and walking her out of the carriage. The sea of onlookers parted, showering the Empress, and her handmaiden, with praise and adoration. The royals mostly ignored the peasants, eyes turned up on their way to their box: A raised platform, roofed from the elements, not unlike the one in the colosseum. It had cush seats and a fine wood table, complete with tea and treats, and a jug of honey wine per Twilight's request. They looked down on the square proper, where a large, ornate crate stood, locked and chained for the time being.

"Shall you address the crowd?" asked Twilight as she and her mistress entered their box. "Or shall I?"

"I prefer it when you do it, dear." The Empress took a seat, and gestured for Twilight to act. "You know how I love to hear your voice."

"Psh. Ever the flatterer, aren't you?" Twilight shook her head and stepped forward, unfurling the scroll she had been left with the details of today's execution. She took in a deep breath, and when she exhaled, it was more mana than breath as she cast what she had come to call the Chancellor Charm; When she next spoke, it was impossibly loud, and it shimmered with power. "People of Canterlot! Look to the square, and spurn the vile criminal before you!"

Upon her call, a pair of Daybreakers emerged from their carriage, dragging along the prisoner in question: a tall, lanky specimen of perhaps 30 years, with stringy, greasy hair so matted with muck and mud that Twilight could only guess as to its true color. The criminal struggled weakly in the grasp of the Daybreakers, likely due to the state of her legs; her feet were cocked at an awkward angle, and further inspection showed that her ankles sported dark, purplish bruises. She was clearly in pain, but moreso, she was toiling in fury and undirected rage. She howled in pain as the Daybreakers none-too-gently shackled her broken wrists behind her back.

"Murderer! Butcher! Cannibal! This woman has slain her kin, slain her neighbors, and even slain a member of her Majesty's Royal Guard!" declared Twilight. "She has stolen the lives of the innocent, in a twisted, evil display of gluttony, and for her crimes, she shall be put to death! Speak your final words now, criminal!"

"I'll gnaw your pretty face off, you cunt!" spat the dirty, mangy murderer. "Die a thousand deaths! Burn in hells!"

"These sorts always have such a way with words…" remarked Celestia. Twilight pursed her lips, taking some solace in the murmurings of disapproval amongst the crowd. They clearly disapproved of such language being leveled at the handmaiden, and their quiet reverence was a small pleasure to Twilight. “Go on, Twilight. I’m ready to see this murderer face harsh Canterlot justice.”

"Per the orders of her Majesty, Empress Celestia, your sadistic, voracious desire for your fellow man’s flesh will be repaid in kind. You will not face death by blade or hanging, but instead…” Twilight snapped her fingers, the sound magnified a hundredfold by her sorcery. Upon hearing the sound, one of the Daybreakers lurched across the square, to the locked crate. With a simple tug, it snapped the chains apart, and pulled the front of the crate open. From the shadowy depths of the large box wriggled a viridian serpent, thrice as thick as an oak branch, and many times longer. The snake was well-trained and, upon setting its slitted, copper eyes upon the criminal, it slithered forth, slowly and with purpose. “Instead, you shall face death by the one creature with a greater cruel voracity than yourself.”

Twilight watched a bit as the great serpent approached the killer, who made a feeble attempt at escaping, though she never even got to her feet with the remaining Daybreaker in place. Slowly, as if deriving pleasure from the murderer’s discomfort, the snake approached, coiling around the killer’s thin, wiry body. The killer screamed and thrashed, but could not escape the grasp of the grand snake, who lackadaisically tightened its grasp around its prey. It wrapped itself around the killer once, twice, three times before it began to constrict inward, immediately forcing the air from her lungs.

“My, Valerie has gotten quite big,” noted Twilight, dismissing the Chancellor Charm and returning her voice to a typical volume. “When we hatched her, she was hardly as long as my arm.”

“Her kind grows fast, indeed. That crate is getting too small for her,” said the Empress with a nod. She looked on with the smallest of grins as Valerie’s victim wheezed and struggled. Her legs twitched ever so slightly, a common tell of the Empress’ that Twilight long ago learned meant that the High Queen was enjoying the carnage. While she herself did not care for the display, Twilight still appreciated her mistress’ proclivities. “It is entirely possible that she will still be hungry after this.”

“I wouldn’t blame her. That girl is all skin and bones.” Twilight returned to her Empress’ side and, after glancing forward to see how the murderer’s face had shifted to a deep, purplish blue, she discreetly and covertly turned her chair to face the tray of sweets. “She’s going to faint soon.”

“Doubtful. Valerie likes to play with her food. She’ll allow that scum a few precious breaths, so that she’ll be wide awake when Valerie is ready to swallow her whole.” Again, the Empress rubbed her legs together in a simple, easily-missed display. Being handmaiden for as long as she had been, Twilight knew full and well what such motions meant and, while the Empress had not yet asked for any assistance, Twilight preferred to be a bit more proactive; As she buttered herself a scone with a combination of her left hand and some magick, the handmaiden crawled her right hand up along the Empress’ leg. “What in the world are you doing?”

“Having a scone,” said Twilight innocently, even as her right hand slid to the inside of the Empress’ thigh. As her thin, dainty fingers reached her Divinity’s hips, she grinned, for she felt no cloth or fabric to impede her. “Would you care for one?”

“I thought we were waiting until after the execution.”

“Ah. I believe you misunderstood me, back in our chambers. I simply requested that you keep your hands to yourself. I agreed to no such conditions.” Twilight’s hand strayed a bit more, the tips of her finger reaching the Empress’ soft, velveteen lips, and the handmaiden grinned deviously. “Could you not find any suitable undergarments, my Empress?”

“You know how these events make me feel. I did not desire to… soil any today.” Celestia’s breath hitched when Twilight pushed her middle finger into her, rubbing gentle circles around her internal walls. “Three hells, Twilight, when did you become such a relentless tease?”

“Oh, you know. Anything to entertain myself. That said, I will tease you no longer, my Empress.”

Twilight smirked to herself, savoring her scone as she pleasured her Empress. She knew her way around Celestia's body quite well by then, and combined with the gruesome pageant happening below, it took very little effort from the handmaiden to please her mistress. Twilight had finished her second scone and began sipping on her honey wine when she gracefully bought the Empress to climax. Once Celestia had been satisfied, Twilight removed her hand and turned back to face the crowd, just in time for the serpent to slither back into its home, a large, grotesque bulge visible in its tummy. Twilight licked her fingers clean, chuckling to herself. Not only did she keep Celestia happy, which was good news for all, she also helped to ensure that there was one fewer monster in the world.

Equestria was flourishing, and, with her helping it along, Twilight knew that the kingdom would only grow stronger.