Arboreal Grieving

“Well, Auntie, these bills here look rather out of place, considering… “ Prince Blueblood the twenty-third, almost the exact same stallion as his father, stood next to the Princess herself. Annoyingly, he brought issue after issue of the noble houses to her divided attention.

Celestia sat primly, inwardly struggling to resist the urge to slouch. In the back of her mind, she found herself missing the many times Twilight had crashed her court. The star spiders had been rather entertaining, perhaps it was time for a repeat event—

“Tia! Are you even listening?” Blueblood demanded, irately. “You're obligated by the law to hear us for our allotted time! Don't tell me you're looking for a repeat of that hooligan's antics.”

Celestia suddenly peered down at Blueblood, unblinking. He wilted, realizing his mistake, and although for a moment it seemed as if she would smite him, she eventually settled back into her seat.

“Blueblood, you are asked by the throne to keep comments like that to yourself,” Celestia said coldly, “Please, continue with the petitions, and we’ll forget that happened.”

Blueblood happily obliged.