“And here, your private quarters. We did our best to re-create the interior of your bed-chamber in Canterlot Castle!” the stallion said solemnly and bowed in respect before stepping aside to let her through.
The snow-white curtains were drawn tight, and only the dancing flame of the fireplace was playing flashes and shadows on the walls of the bedroom. The luxurious princess-size bed stood in the shade of the milky baldachin, guarded from both sides by the beautiful dressing cabinet and the practical bureau. The purple carpet decorated with designs covered the floor, the walls mirroring it with the dark blue of cloud patterns. And in front of the fireplace was the large, slightly flattened pillow the princess loved to lie on and spend peaceful evenings, finishing daily tasks or reading through letters from her former protégé and current ruler of Equestria.
“Like I’m in the castle again,” Celestia murmured, then turned around to face the stallion. “Is it the last room?” she asked.
“Yes, yes of course,” he breathed out and stared at the princess, devotion gleaming in eyes. Celestia gave him a nod of satisfaction.
They came back to the parlour from where they had started a tour around the new mansion built to accommodate the retired Royal Sisters. Luna had been polite enough to appraise her bed-chamber and immediately hit the pillow, leaving her sister in quite an embarrassing situation. Though, that only made the pony responsible for the construction sigh in relief.
“They built the house in accordance with everything you had asked. But if there is the lack of anything, just name it, and whatever you need will be brought to you as fast as possible,” he assured Celestia in reverence and trepidation. “You won’t even notice the workers—”
“No need to worry, you’ve done a great job,” Celestia interrupted him softly. “I’m not going to speak for my sister, but as for me, it will be a pleasure to spend the rest of my life in this place.”
“The mansion won’t last for that long,” the stallion stifled a nervous chuckle.
“With such admirable ponies to look out for it, the house is up to outlast me.” Celestia cracked a smile. “I’ll see you on your way.”
The stallion stepped over the threshold to the porch but abruptly stopped and turned around. “Your Highness,” he began anxiously, “if you ever need something—”
“I will certainly call for your help,” the alicorn thanked him, stopping his repetitive speech. She was about to close the door when, at the last moment, she thoughtfully added, “In fact, I have one request. Please stop calling me Your Highness. My sister and I retired from the throne, and nopony is obliged to call us the title that suits it no more."
“But that’s…” He gasped. “What are we supposed to address you?”
He stared at her, ears perked up and head moving forward like he was about to hear some terrible princess-no-more secret.
“I don’t mind you being a bit creative,” Celestia said in a dramatic voice and pulled the door closed.
She returned to the parlour, reclined on a divan and happily gave herself a good, crunchy stretch. Today was the first day after they had stepped down. She and her sister had moved to Silver Shallows and were free to occupy themselves with anything that struck them fancy.
Celestia’s stomach gurgled obscenely loud. She got up with a grin and trotted to the kitchen. During the tour, she’d had to silence a happy cry, but now, alone in her little heaven, she could prance in joy to all her heart’s content.
She had noticed a huge cookbook, but had another thing in mind. Her horn ignited, and on the table materialised a thick, crumpled sun-ornate notebook filled with recipes. Due to the tight schedule Celestia had not tried even a half of them, and so she was eager to catch up.
She ruffled through pages, running an impatient glance over notes. She was in a mood for something terribly grand for her first power-free day. Her eyes caught on a fabulous fruitcake receipt. Celestia had had plans on it for Luna’s birthday, but was today any less prominent, really?
The shelves and fridge were crammed with all ingredients imaginable ranging from spices to fresh vegetables. She quickly found the main parts and started right off to cook.
As bad luck would have it, when she began to leaven dough she realised she lacked one constituent. Though this particular fruit was noted merely on the margins of the recipe page, it was its juice that made cake layers specifically soft. In Celestia’s mind, her first master-dish in the new place had to be perfect, so without a second thought she left the dough to rise and hurried out to a store.
The Sisters’ House stood on the outskirts, far from the bustle of a coastal resort town. Even still, hardly had she walked from the fence door than a pair of ponies ran up to her. They bowed and asked anxiously, “Could we take a photo with you, Your Highness?”
“Why, yes, my dear ponies,” Celestia beamed.
As the stallion was focusing on the camera, his spouse stood by her side. There was a flash.
“Now, my turn,” the mare exclaimed, then paused and looked up, simpering. “May I?”
Celestia replied with a gracious nod.
The ponies changed places and what followed was a cascade of flashes.
“Maybe it’s enough, dear…” The stallion stopped short under a barrage of daggers from the mare’s eyes. “Yes. You’re right.”
Celestia could only smile at them.
“Thank you, Your Highness,” the mare said excitedly. “Ah, I’m gonna show it to my friend. She didn’t want to come, said there’d be nothing to do. Now her face would turn green with envy!”
“Words can hurt,” Celestia reminded her.
“Nah, we’re besties!” The mare waved it off. “She’ll forget it in a single visit to a café… Thank you very much, Your Highness.”
“Oh please, no need to call me tha—”
With exuberant cries, “Your Highness! Your Highness!” several other ponies galloped up to Celestia. “Can we take a pic?”
She heaved a sigh and forced a smile. “Of course, my dear ponies.”
Scarcely had she done a favour to the former subjects when another pair of them appeared. The third ones had no camera, but the others caringly offered them their own. Then it was a next batch of ponies. Then, again. Again and again. Soon they formed a line where some sly fox suggested photo’ing anypony for a small change.
Celestia stole a glance back. She made it no more than a few metres from home.
“Thanks, Your Highness. Just a couple of photos,” said another anticipant stallion.
Like a bolt of lighting against the jet black sky, an idea sparked in her head, and the corners of her mouth dashed up into a wry smile. The alicorn raised a hoof, ending the talks immediately.
“From yesterday on, I, Princess Celestia, and my sister Princess Luna announced our official retirement from occupying the throne of Equestria. You are no longer our subjects as we are no longer your rulers. Still, I’m more than happy to help you with anything you may ask, my dear ponies,” she declared in a motherly tone, yet loudly enough for all to hear. “In return, I’ll only ask you to observe the proprieties and address me the way my current status imposes.”
The ponies exchanged perplexed glances and burst out in a collective whispering. Celestia put on a thankful smile and finally began to move. She could even make it past a few houses when, out of the blue, a unicorn emerged before her.
“Your Highness?” he suggested gingerly.
She shook her head.
“Your Majesty?”
“I’ve abdicated from the throne; that’s about lowering in rank,” Celestia explained in a smooth voice.
The unicorn hung his head, but not before a pegasus landed beside him. “I know! Your Holiness!” he boasted.
“Have you read it in books?” Celestia inquired, her voice with a respectful undertone.
The pegasus puffed out his chest proudly.
“Then you must as well know that I haven’t been addressed this way for centuries,” she added with an air of feigned disapproval.
Celestia started moving and the ponies dutifully stepped aside in defeat. “Your Sun-Snoutness?” asked from behind a timid voice. She couldn’t help but smirk and replied nonchalantly, “No”.
They slowly crept down the street, but that was far better than to stand surrounded by her former subjects. Eventually, as new tourists poured in with no end in sight, Celestia asked one unicorn to explain to them the rules and promised to invite him over for dinner. His face brightened up, he set to work with such zeal and ardour that bypassers had no time to come closer as he dashed towards them.
Nonetheless and all too fast, a whole noisy crowd was marching by Celestia’s tracks. She then added a rule: a single attempt for a single pony. In response, a couple of enthusiastic fellows went to meet newcomers and recite failed versions.
“Your Most-Celestial-Sun-Flanksness?”
Celestia covered her mouth trying not to neigh in laughter. She took a deep breath in and generously declared. “I’ll give you a single cue: this is one word.”
The commotion behind her was cut down, but in a moment flared up with new energy rising to a hubbub.
By that moment, the procession reached the main town street. A few pegasi over a corner raised a big billboard ‘The Manor of Princess Celestia and Princess Luna, 500m’. She nodded to her ‘herald’, and he was off in an instant, taking furiously and waving legs.
A thrilled voice chimed in, “Alicorness?”
Surprised, Celestia looked down to see a foal. He rapidly hid in the long strands of his hair, the blood rushing to his muzzle. She gently swept his mane away and smiled kindly. Inclining to his little ear, she whispered, “What a nice word to tease Luna.”
Celestia winked at him and exclaimed to everypony around, “Intriguing.”
Taking advantage of the crowd’s confusion, she went to the first shop she’d spotted. She asked her herald to keep others out and slipped inside.
“Hello,” she greeted the vendor.
The stallion behind the counter nodded. His eyes darted hesitantly from the roaring mob outside the window and the unicorn holding the entrance with his body. The shop was rather small. Celestia glanced over the shelves, but the fruit she coveted was not there.
“That’s a pity,” she sighed. “Good day to you.”
“Take care,” the vendor only uttered in embarrassment.
She knocked on the glass for her herald/guard to make a little space. The moment she opened the door a squall of new names bombarded her.
“Alicornix?”
“Alicornette!”
“Alicornella?”
“Alicornita!”
Celestia gulped down a snort and shook her head. She went to the next grocery shop, but they too had no ‘secret’ ingredient. The lack of it in the third one came as no surprise.
“Holicorness?” tried a rather anxious voice.
Celestia let out a tired snicker. The game started to weigh on her mood and, more importantly, her time. Suddenly, an idea popped up in her head. She turned back to the crowd that had grown to block off half the street and raised a hoof, abrupting every sort of noise.
“You all know perfectly well that I’m looking for a certain fruit. The most observant among you might even know what that fruit is. So, I want to make it easier for all of us. The first pony to bring me the fruit is not only to know my current title but also to be invited to have dinner with me.” She looked at her herald panting by her side and quickly added in a grateful tone, “Both me and this wonderful pony.”
While the most froze, staring at her as if in wait for her to continue, some ponies belted off down the street.
“Now I must apologize, but it’s time for me to return back home,” Celestia announced before finally calling it a day.
She took off graciously to the sky, spied her new abode, and teleported away right onto its steps. Only with the door shut, she allowed herself to breathe out. Her first day free of the burden of power was more exhausting than a monarch’s routine. That would stick in her memory for sure!
She hastened to the kitchen, but the dough did not yet rise. She began preparing other ingredients.
It took but a dozen minutes before she heard an insistent banging on the door. Keeping the apron on, Celestia went to greet the winner. The door opened to the porch with a panting blue pegasus mare gripping a bag in her mouth. The mare’s eyes blazed with fire, her cheeks flushed, puffs of air blurting heavily through her nostrils — like she’d been fighting her way to the house. Celestia glared at the pegasi that were chasing her, and they were gone in a blink of an eye.
“I’m most grateful to you,” Celestia appreciated, accepting the precious package. “Come here at eight o’clock.”
The pegasus blew out a breath, wiped the sweat off her brow, and stuttered, “But, what am I s’posed to c-call you?”
Bystanders had already swarmed around the mansion, eager to hear the word. Celestia flashed a merry smile at the pegasus before going inside. “Celestia would be just fine.”
