New Noses To Know

* * ✹ * *

The Great and Powerful Trixie, in the past, had never been a morning pony.

The ‘why’ behind that was rather simple. To achieve the maximum effect with her pyrotechnical displays, she scheduled her magic shows mostly at night. As a side-benefit, the cover of darkness was perfect to conceal her misdirections and sleight-of-hoof movements. Performing in the evenings also meant that she didn’t have to perform during the heat of the day, and thus keeping her sweating to a minimum.⁽¹⁾

⁽¹⁾ Trixie sweated enough anyway due to the frequent threat of her magic tricks backfiring on her at any given moment. Literally.
—

So today, as her alarm clock cried out in the predawn hour with sharp bells, Trixie should have been infuriated and annoyed at the horrible little mechanism on her nightstand, and threatened to reduce it to nothing more than a pile of twisted metal and broken cogs.

Instead, Trixie calmly arose with a slight grin and a luxurious stretch of her forelegs, smacked her lips, and calmly hushed the angry timekeeper. She slowly slid out from beneath her silk sheets, paused to work the sleep out of her rear legs, and then gave herself a good shake before trotting cheerfully to the shower.

Yes, Trixie had not been a morning pony before, but now?

Now she had a reason to enjoy them.

Trixie hummed a happy tune to herself as she adjusted the water temperature, found her rubber duckie, checked on the soap on the rope, and finally slipped into the perfectly steamy shower. Today was going to be a good day for the stunningly amazing magician for one very important reason.

Today was her one year anniversary of becoming Prince Baked Bean’s secretary.

Trixie’s mind began to wander as she lathered up, pondering over everything that had happened since that fateful day at Neighagra Falls. At the time, she had thought her imposed employment would be even worse than her time at the rock farm. The combination of tediously long meetings and the prospect of a lengthy employment timetable to pay for the damages she’d caused to Princess Celestia’s carriages—to say nothing of her poor, hapless wagon, which had been an unfortunate casualty of her manic efforts to impress a heckler—had seemed like she would be in for a miserably banal and dreary existence for quite some time.

But as time had gone on—and once Princess Celestia stopped seeing Trixie as a potential homewrecker—things had improved considerably. There had been praise for her work, recognition of her talents and skills, multiple audiences to perform for, and even the opportunity to receive some magical tutoring from Celestia herself.

The pay raises and increases in vacation time were also wonderfully motivational, of course.

Trixie smiled all the more as she rinsed the shampoo from her mane and reached for the conditioner. A year ago, she would have done anything to get away from her indentured life at the palace.

But now? Now she didn’t want to leave it.

The notion was a bit odd to the stunning showmare. She had never thought of herself as the type to settle down in any one area for long, but here she was, and here she wanted to stay. She supposed that, if she was miserable in her employment, her feelings would be quite different, but given that she felt satisfied and secure, it was hard to justify leaving it all for the uncertainties that came with being on the road.

Sure, her new wagon was nice enough, but it was impossible to say that a flimsy, scratchy burlap hammock was superior to her double plush pillow top bed, for example. Or that the cramped quarters were preferable to the modest, yet tasteful one bedroom apartment that she currently occupied. Especially since said apartment stayed at a pleasant and constant temperature without issue during both summer and winter, instead of wildly fluctuating like her drafty wagon always had.

And, as the cherry on top, Trixie had to admit that it was delightful to not only work so closely with Princess Celestia, Princess Luna, and Prince Bean, but to use the clout that came with her position to ‘encourage’ others into doing her bidding. It was always amusing to think that she, a roturier of inconsequential standing, had more power than most of the snooty nobles and bureaucrats that she worked with. They could hem and haw, complain and whine, but in the end, they had to comply with Trixie’s demands, because Trixie spoke for the Royals, like it or not.

Really, the only ponies that outranked Trixie now were the elder Princesses, Prince Bean, and Miss Wysteria.⁽²⁾

⁽²⁾Trixie was pretty sure she could pull rank of some sort on Shining Armor and Princess Cadence, since they were rulers over a vassal state to Equestria, but she figured it probably wasn’t a good idea to try.
—

Trixie hummed a happy note as she stepped out of the shower and used a quick dry spell on herself. Today would, in all likelihood, be like any other day at work for the stunning showmare, but she was expecting her employers to offer congratulations, and perhaps a celebratory cake to enjoy, provided Princess Celestia didn’t get to it first. Prince Bean’s confectionery skills were second only to Pinkie Pie, and it would make dealing with the more annoying parts of her career all the better.

Without warning, Trixie let out a stentorian belch, but it only took a moment for the dragonfire missive to materialize, and she snagged it with glee. Starlight Glimmer was the only pony who would send her a message so early, and Trixie enjoyed receiving letters from her new friend and pen pal.

The dutiful secretary laughed a little as she read, her magic leaping to pull everything she needed for a hearty bowl of corn flakes by instinct. It seemed that Starlight, in her latest friendship building misfire, had cast a mind control spell on Sparkle’s friends, forcing them to do exactly what Starlight told them to do with disastrous results. She had apologized to them in the end, but Starlight privately confided that she was worried she would never figure out how friendship was supposed to really work.

“Ha. Serves you right for being a know-it-all, Sparkle.” Trixie cackled as she ate. “Though I do wonder if Starlight can teach me that spell. Trixie would love to use that on a few nobles.”

Trixie mulled over the letter while enjoying her breakfast, thinking of what advice she could share that would help Starlight and take Sparkle down a notch. Any and all forms of mind control magic were highly outlawed for obvious reasons—to say nothing of the intense level of power and concentration required to cast the spell on one pony, let alone five—so it seemed that the Princess of Friendship was going extremely easy on Starlight’s punishment.

But as much as she hated it, Trixie had to confess that Sparkle did the right thing and got the point of the lesson across. The only thing Trixie could think of was some typical friendship jargon involving thinking about the consequences of her actions before acting, but that seemed a bit hollow coming from her, of all ponies.

Trixie then decided to not worry about it for now. She could come up with some insightful responses during the day. For now, she just needed to worry about getting to work on time.

After a quick brush of her teeth and a check of her saddlebags, Trixie was ready to attack the day. She stepped out of her apartment, locked the dead bolt, and turned to her royal guard escort. “Good Morning, Private!”

“Good morning, Miss Lulamoon,” Private Lemon Tart replied with a nod. “You seem to be in a rather cheerful mood today, ma’am.”

“It is a rather delightful morning.” The two made way for the stairs. “How was your evening?”

“Uneventful, ma’am. Thank you for asking.”

“You know, Trixie has been wondering if it is difficult for you to be awake during the day, what with you being a thestral and all.”

Tart shrugged, her leathery bat wings flaring out as if being stretched in preparation for a long day. “You get used to it, ma’am. It’s no different than an earth pony who works an overnight shift.”

“Still, Trixie confesses she feels some guilt over your circumstances.”

Tart allowed a faint grin. “I appreciate that, Miss Trixie, but I knew what would be required of me when I enlisted. Besides, I’ve always been one of those oddball thestrals that enjoys daylight hours. My parents never quite understood it, either, but they did support me the best they could.”

“That’s more than Trixie can say about her own family,” Trixie remarked darkly. “But no matter. We should hurry so we’re not late.”

“After you, ma’am.”

* * ✹ * *

“Good morning, Miss Lulamoon.”

“Good morning, Miss Inkwell,” Trixie nodded. “How was your evening?”

Celestia’s dutiful secretary yawned. “Long. The twins decided to serenade Quill and I with an original composition that we’ve entitled Ear Drum Demolition in F Sharp. It’s a seven hour performance, not including encores.”

“Another reason why Trixie will never have foals. Do you need to take the morning off? Trixie can present the morning briefing, If you’d like.”

Wysteria yawned again, with extra emphasis on oxygen intake. “Tempting, but I’ll manage. You can take the lead for now, though. Have you looked it over yet?”

“Nothing out of the ordinary.” Trixie flipped through the papers on her clipboard with her magic. “Day court, the previously scheduled meetings, blah blah blah. Prince Bean has a package from a fan in Neigh Orleans, it would seem.” Trixie held up a legal letter-sized packet and gave it a shake. “Post office already checked and cleared it.”

“Interesting. Almost looks like somepony is sending him a stack of recipes for a cookbook or something.” Wysteria looked the mail over as the two secretaries walked. “We’ll find out soon enough, I suppose. Anything else?”

“That’s all Trixie has. Anything for the Princesses?”

“I’m working on scheduling some meetings for Princess Luna, Mayor Velvet Midnight, and a few other thestral leaders. They’re still ironing out the details of thestral integration. I’ll keep you posted.”

“Anything else?”

“I just got word of this when I came in, so I’m still sorting out the details. But it seems we will soon be losing our griffon ambassador.”

“Really? Why?”

* * ✹ * *

“Recalled?” Princess Celestia repeated, and Wysteria nodded.

“Ghis notified me this morning, and he will be leaving for Griffonstone by the end of the week.”

“Did he give a reason why?”

“Not directly. He was, if you’ll forgive the pun, a bit cagey about it. He mentioned something about retirement, but it wasn’t very clear or convincing.”

“Odd. I suppose we will need to contact Grandpa Gruff for clarification. Has another ambassador been appointed?”

“Not that he mentioned to me,” Wysteria said with a shrug. “Another question for Gruff, it would seem.”

“Indeed.” Celestia glanced over to her husband, who was being uncharacteristically quiet. “Bean? Have you been listening?”

“Hmm?” Bean glanced up from the mail that Trixie had given him. “Oh, sorry. No. I was distracted by… um…” He waved the small ream of papers slightly. “Somepony wants to publish my book.”

“What?!” Celestia was at Bean’s side and reading over his shoulder in an instant. “Really? Who wants to publish it?”

“Some small outfit in Neigh Orleans. They want to meet with me in a week to discuss the details and sign a contract.”

“So they wish to have you physically present?” Celestia asked as Bean passed the informational papers to her. “How exciting! I’m so proud of you, my love! Congratulations!”

“I couldn’t have done it without your help, my love.” Bean kissed her cheek, and Trixie gagged. This morning meeting was quickly becoming far too sappy for her tastes.

“But now that you have been accepted, are you still comfortable with remaining anonymous?” Celestia questioned, her magic shuffling the papers around. “I know you had decided to use a nom de plume when you first sent out your manuscript.”

“And I still will,” Bean said. “So we’ll just move ahead like we’d planned.” He then turned to Trixie with a serious expression. “Miss Lulamoon, are you still willing to act as my agent? I know you and Neigh Orleans have a… history.”

“Never fret, moi liège,” Trixie offered in her cajun accent. “Vous secrétaire, she know how to handle herself in her hometown, no? Trixie will do this thing, as agreed.”

“Thanks. You know, I can’t help but feel like we’re forgetting something.” Bean made a show of tapping his chin before glancing up to his wife. “But what could it be?”

“Perhaps it is the fact that your secretary has now been in our employ for one year?” Celestia suggested with a bob of her eyebrows.

“Ah! Of course. How stupid of me. Happy anniversary, Trixie. It’s been a wild ride, but on behalf of both Celly and myself, we’re grateful for everything you’ve done.”

Trixie felt a deep joy leap out of her heart and spread from her hooves to her horn. There was no doubt in her mind that both Bean and Celestia were being completely honest. “Thank you, Your Highnesses. It has been Trixie’s pleasure to be of service, truly.”

Bean nodded. “As I understand it, paper is traditionally the first anniversary gift, so we got you this.” He handed Trixie an envelope, which she quickly opened. Unsurprisingly, she found an anniversary card within, the front embossed with a replica of Baked Bean’s cutie mark.

She smiled deeply as she opened it and read the personal, hoofwritten note. “‘To Trixie, with gratitude and thanks for a year of dedicated and loyal service. May you be richly rewarded for everything you do for the Crown, day in and day out.’” Trixie surreptitiously slid the included bonus paycheck under the papers on her clipboard. “Thank you, Prince Bean. Trixie will frame this and find a nice wall in my apartment to hang it on.”

Bean nodded. “Now, I did have an anniversary cake prepared for you, but it seems that my wife found it while we were on our way to sunrise, and—”

“You stop that slander right this minute.” Celestia cuffed Bean over the head with a wing and a smile. “I did nothing of the sort. Honestly, I get caught enjoying one slice of cake once by a gossip column, and now everypony thinks I’m some kind of cake-eating monster who can’t stop eating anything and everything covered in frosting.”

“Okay, okay,” Bean said, rubbing his head with a devious look. “The actual offer is for me to make your favorite cake, pie, or other dessert this evening. You name it, I’ll bake it, within reason.”

“Trixie will consider what to choose. In the meantime, shall we move ahead with the morning briefing? You have an appointment scheduled in fifteen minutes, after all.”

“Carry on, Miss Lulamoon.”

* * ✹ * *

Trixie drew in a long, heavy sigh as she paused in front of one of the stained glass windows in the palace. Repairs were nearly complete, and Celestia was planning on a formal re-reveal in recognition of her husband’s defiant stand against Tirek once they were all finished. She took a moment to adjust her secretarial collar, fluff her mane, and then offer her reflection a smile she didn’t fully feel.

Truth be told, Trixie was not looking forward to returning to Neigh Orleans. There were so many memories there, painful and jagged and waiting to stab her in the back once more, just as they had in the past. But she had agreed to act as Bean’s publishing agent so he could remain anonymous, and if she went back on her word, Baked Bean would be forced to reveal his identity.

Trixie’s gaze went up, and she noticed that the window in front of her was only halfway done. Even as it was, Trixie recognized it as the window that portrayed Bean’s Boop of Destiny with Princess Celestia.

That meant it was the last window he had destroyed before leaving for Ponyville, and it most likely would be the last window to be fully repaired. She could only imagine what was going through his head—and his heart—when he had swung that spear and crushed the last bit of Celestia he had.

If he could do that, then a day trip to her former hometown should be a walk in the park.

But Bean hadn’t been alone in his rebellion, and Trixie smirked as she realized she didn’t need to do this alone, either. Her magic conjured up a scroll, and she quickly began to write.

Dear Starlight,

The Great and Powerful Trixie has a proposal for you…

* * ✹ * *