He was always home late.
Being a Canterlot Elite pony isn't all diamonds and parties. You constantly worry about every little thing. Your mane, your outfit, your voice, your attitude, your wealth, everything. It's like acid inside of your body, rising and eating away at your insides. You feel it bubbling, hollowing your body from the inside. You feel like a reanimated corpse, thread pulling up your lips into a false grin. Wealth truly can't buy happiness.
Fleur de Lis knew that too well. She was born into a wealthy family of unicorns, yes, but it all changed when she married Fancypants. He had such an enormous fortune from his family. A true business-stallion. That's what attracted her to him in the first place; she was enamored by his business expertise. A smart, rich stallion was what she was searching for! The wedding was bold and brash, royalty was invited and it was such a memorable night. But as many know, change is inevitable, and romance is no exception.
Parties are a staple of Elite life. Everypony and their uncle throws a fun bash for their expensive acquaintances. Drinks were plenty and imported, and intimacy was in the air. Though it isn't talked about, swinging is common in Elite circles. Very common. Fancypants was a hot topic in this case. As was Fleur, though, she simply couldn't share her body with anypony but Fancy. She only had eyes for him, no matter how attractive the rich stallions she knew were. Fleur accepted that Fancypants participated in the intimate after-parties, as long as he promised that she was his one and only special somepony. They would arrive to the occasion together, Fleur would be escorted home, and Fancy stayed at the function. It seemed innocent for a while. But that was a bit after their wedding.
Years passed since their wedding day. The unicorn couple still attended fancy events, but Fancypants began to stay longer and longer. Sometimes he didn't come home until early morning, heavily intoxicated. Fleur didn't mind much... much. But as time progressed, these long nights got sour. Fleur was alone for hours. She would lay on their king size bed, dressed in her silky robe, waiting for her dearest to return. But he never came. She would eventually fall asleep with her dish of late night cherries on the bed, her mane unbrushed for bed. When Fancy would finally come home, he would make such a ruckus it woke Fleur from slumber. Often bringing home other mares as well. Drunken Fancypants would force her to sleep in the guest room while he had fun with their mare friends in the master bedroom, on their bed, in their house, in their special place. Fleur tolerated it... for a while. He was just drunk, he couldn't control himself then. That's what she told herself before she laid her head on the guest room bed's pillow.
The sex wasn't the only issue. Fancypants had more wealth of the two, and for the beginning of their relationship, it was shared generously. Once Fleur made enough money to provide for herself modeling, her parents stopped providing for her. As years passed, Fancy began to limit her expenses. It got worse over time. At one point, he had walked out of their anniversary dinner at a bistro for her to pay for the whole meal. He stopped paying for a while now. Fleur would sigh as she levitated her wallet onto the dining table to pay with what she earned from modeling.
Fancy got more cruel to Fleur with time. Not only did he limit her money, but he rarely spent time with her outside of public appearances. Often she would shop alone, eat alone, and sleep alone. Their large, quiet mansion echoed her hoofsteps when she was home. He was always out with their friends... or whom she hoped were their friends and only friends.
He would insult her appearance. When Fleur asked him if he liked her new emerald necklace, he would respond with
"Nothing can replicate the beauty you had before." Fancy called her dramatic, overbearing, clingy, a bitch, the list went on.
When they ate dinner, he insisted she ate greens and greens only. "A modeling mare doesn't need the carbohydrates of potato au gratin. You'll get fatter than you already are and lose your job." Fleur would taste the extra salt provided from her tears in her kale and carrot salad. It was a daily function for Fancypants to declare how undesirable her body was now.
It changed one night. It was October, the Canterlot Autumn Festival just wrapped up, and it had been five hours since Fleur left the celebration. The dove-white unicorn sat on her chaise lounge, laying on her belly, waiting. Oh, Fancy, please don't take too long... She thought, leaving out a solemn sigh. It was 3 in the morning now. As her eyes felt heavy, Fleur stretched her neck to the side table in front of her and blew out the rose scented candle she lit.
Before she could close her eyes and curl up, the golden painted door rustled. The creak of the door made her eyes shoot open, hoping it was her husband. Finally, she could spend some time with him! Eager, Fleur flopped off the couch and trotted to the entrance with glee.
"Fancy, dear, is that you?" The mare bounced her mane to adjust her appearance. Though, it wasn't a surprise that the Fancypants at the door was tipsy and was accompanied by another unicorn mare. Fleur's eyes batted and she looked down. "Ah, right... come in." She turned around and walked back to their living room. Fancy gave her a sour look and led the other mare into the house. She was heavily intoxicated and needed assistance to walk.
From the living room, Fleur could hear Fancy tell the pony to meet him in the bedroom, for that he would get some beverages. He's finally alone, she thought, I better talk to him now while I have the chance... Fleur approached the kitchen where her husband went.
"Fancy?" She cooed, standing in the doorway, her shadow falling on Fancypants at the mini bar. Fancypants whipped his head around, his blue mustache out of fashion.
"What now? I'm quite busy." The stallion popped open a champagne bottle with magic and poured it into two crystalline glasses.
"Well, I wanted to talk with you... it's very important." Fleur caressed her forelock as she spoke.
"I feel we're growing... apart, Fancy. Tonight was the first time I saw you in weeks. I... I miss you." She stepped closer to her husband and put her hoof on his cheek. Fancypants looked nothing but annoyed. He smacked her hoof off.
"Listen, Fleurie, I don't want to hear it. I have a busy life. You know this." He sipped the bubbling champagne. Fleur looked disappointed.
"I am aware, yes, but... I feel you've been more intimate with other mares... while we haven't... you know... in months." She batted her eyelashes. "We don't talk anymore... we haven't for... well... years. We just coexist now."
Fleur went in to hug Fancypants, but he stepped back.
"Stop being so dramatic. It isn't my fault you are not as social as I. In both ways. I enjoy time with my friends." He barked at her, raising a furry eyebrow. The mare began to feel offended.
"You know I'm just not comfortable being with more than one pony," she huffed. "I just... I just don't feel your love lately..." If there even is love, anymore, she pondered. Fancypants rolled his eyes. "You've slept with more mares than times you've slept with me in the past two years! You don't even spend time with me outside of the bedroom! " Her voice raised an octave.
The stallion's eyes narrowed, and he stepped closer, looking down at her. She had never spoken to him like that before.
"Do not raise your voice to your husband." He demanded, stomping a hoof on the tiled floor. Fleur stared back into his sullen eyes. "I said what I said, Fancypants... I can raise my voice as much as I want, because you don't even feel like my husband."
Rage overflowed in Fancypants' drunken veins. Never had he hit a mare in his lifetime. Though... that changed tonight.
A powerful hoof struck Fleur's cheek, sending her back, stumbling on her hooves. She let out a shriek upon impact, falling backwards onto the tile. She was shocked at what she just experienced. He never got physical with her before... Tears began to grow in her eyes. She touched her cheek, only to pull her hoof back from the sting. Fancypants stood above her, watching her begin to sob. Her violet eyes looked up to see what she failed to see for the past few years.
She saw a manipulative, neglectful, abusive pony. His deep blue gaze almost hurt more than the actual slap.
"The other mares in the Circle don't cry. Nor do I ever need to teach them to respect me."
Levitating the champagne glasses, Fancypants walked out of the kitchen, to the master bedroom where his mistress waited. Fleur laid on the cold floor, the tears dripping onto the tile. The impact still stung. The unicorn attempted to stand, but was just too weak from the injury and the sobbing. For the rest of the night, she sat on the kitchen floor, never falling asleep that night. Sounds from the bedroom haunted her for days to come.
It was 3:30 AM, and he came home late.
