To my dearest love
I am afraid to say I write to you in a state of most distress. I apologise in advance, as you know I wished only to keep our communications as light and gay as possible, your recovery being of my utmost concern. Nonetheless, if we are to be as open and honest as all good couples should be, then I must tell you of my lows as well as the highs, and yesterday, my shining Night Star, was indeed low.
When we last spoke I mentioned the Grand Galloping Gala did I not? The annual get-together for the nobles and chosen few hoi-poloi my auntie favours? Well, it's so dreadfully dull, I said as much to her face last year. Arrogance perhaps, but it had the steel of truth behind the silk of my...how shall we say...' tipsy' confidence. Yes, yes, I know you asked me to reign in my familiarity with liquors and I have, I promise you. I've been ever so good in fact, but it's rather hard to maintain one's abstinence when you're surrounded by gaggles of fools raiding your aunt's wine store like foals in a sweet shop. Back to the matter at hoof though, upon hearing my sound and logical complaints, auntie did quite possibly the wisest thing I've ever seen. She handed the planning over to me.
Now I know what you're thinking, 'My Blue Blood may be a handsome, dashing, diplomat, with a keen sense of government efficiency, but he is most certainly not a party planner!' On this (as with many other things) you are right as always darling. I did my very best though after a year of surreptitious questions asked, schemes enacted and bribes placed. For all this, my final result to bring the Grand Galloping Gala to new heights amounted to the earth-shattering answer of 'Shake things up a bit'. Whilst frustrating, that isn't the reason for my distress, which I will get to in all due time. After such lacklustre information gathering, I fell back on a suggestion given by the ever-faithful Clean Sweep. Do you remember her? Average height, honey coloured fur, duster cutie mark? She had an idea only one of her station could. The Wonderbolts!
I've always been rather blasé about aunties' little flyers, even in foalhood I preferred the Royal Guard and that no doubt influenced my long-term feelings. In fact, silly as it was, before my cutie mark manifested I hoped to join the guard. A ridiculous fantasy of course, but we all dream such things in our youth. Where was I? Ah yes, Wonderbolts. Well according to Clean Sweep they were in something of a resurgence popularity-wise, Captain Thunderhoofs transgressions seemingly fading from public consciousness, as all things did with time. Something of a shame in my opinion, I thought she made a rather pointed example of what Aunt Celestia did to traitors. Irrespective of my thoughts, their popularity was inarguable with the masses and it had been an age since they were involved with the Gala. Other than that I fell back upon much of the old team, caterers, designers, decorators, and the like. Oh, I certainly tweaked things here and there, the menu gained a bit of oomph with some Buffalo spices I acquired through our last trade meeting, and the music a touch more modernity thanks to the rather impressive Cellist I found at a Canterlot recital. I tried to 'bat' (as the youth of today say) for a Lyrist from the same recital, but Parish Nandermane kicked up a fuss, the old goat.
Now we start upon the road to my despair, attending the Gala. Yes, we have discussed it time and again, but I do so despise the little act required for the simpering masses. In my heart I still believe aunties approval would grease the wheels, so to speak. How could anyone condemn our union when the Princess of the Sun herself approves? Such a thing would be a faux pas at best and outright heresy at worst! Especially amongst the more wooden-headed citizenry who worship at her feet, I can tell you they'd certainly not deify my aunt if they saw her in the mornings! Clean Sweep suggested talking to Princess Luna, but I'll admit to keeping distant. Blood or not, she is an unknown variable and her...relation to our problem is a constant thorn in my side. If she'd just had the good manners to wait a few more years before returning for attempted regicide we'd be in the clear. Now things are in a rather jumbled hullabaloo and it will take even longer to navigate this maze. Still, who better for a maze than a pony with a compass for a cutie mark, eh?
With the mask in place, 'Equestrias most eligible bachelor' made his grand entrance. First, there was the matter of auntie, the greeting was old hat and honestly rather pointless as most of these rituals are. Why I needed to say hello to a mare I spoke to every day I'll never know, yet something did stand out this time I'll admit. My aunt's latest protégé was accompanying her. A very odd thing indeed, considering how poor Aunt Celly spent three-quarters of the night appeasing these twittering dolts. Then again Miss Sparkle was a rather odd one herself, always with her head in a book, never an ounce of gaiety or laughter in the filly, well save for some esoteric joke only a dead intellectual might appreciate. Still, she was an Element Bearer and that presumably had a part in her strangeness, destiny rarely chooses the boring after all.
After that, it was merely a case of the usual 'high society' affairs. Mingling, eating overpriced canapes, drinking (only one darling, only one), and the bane of my existence. Gold diggers. Once again we must climb this hill my Night Star, I love you with all my heart and willingly acquiesce to your wishes, but this is the downside to it. I am the only link to the throne who is 'availably single' as Miss Sparkle once declared over a rather rushed luncheon. There was also the matter of my vast riches unrelated to the royal family, and a face described as 'perfection' by those bizarre peerage magazines. Personally, I always thought they rather undersold Fancy Pants, the stallion had a certain, old-school, masculine panache I feel I lack. Said panache had thankfully rid me of my nemesis, Fleur Di Lys. Did I ever tell you when that empty-headed trollop once tried to jump me in an alleyway? Until this year's Summer Sun Celebration, that had been the most terrifying moment of my life. Madness lurks in those eyes I tell you. Still, she was chained to him and I drank to his loss (the aforementioned 'only one' you'll be happy to know). Unfortunately with the head of the pack out of the race, new contenders strove to take the lead.
The night was still young, and the incessant chatter had already begun to grate (you can only hear the same honeyed lies so often before you find your hooves itchy, something I know you're rather familiar with), well, in a startlingly mature move I sought out the palace gardens. You can't say you've not affected me, darling. A veritable oasis of quiet in comparison, Aunt Luna's cosmic artistry was on full display --even if she neglected to attend herself-- and it filled me with a deep sense of longing. My relative solitude was interrupted however, a beast of purple and white had been stalking me ever since I'd left the Gala, clearly longing to feast on my bank account and status. So I did that funny little game I told you about when we met all those years ago. Far too many know only of the gutter presses 'Perfect Prince Blueblood', elegant, polite, fashionable, and a rather fetching catch. So I show them a little of what they're in for. Call me arrogant if you wish, but I think it's a rather good creation if I do say so myself. Two-thirds Upper Crust, one-third Sky Scraper, the 'perfect' representation of your boorish, rich, nobleman. I've recently taken to calling him 'Vlad'.
'Vlad' took the first move, approaching the gaudy harlot with a smile on his face and a song in his heart. Now you may find this quite unbelievable, but at the time I was quite unaware this gold-digging, would-be-paramour was an Element Bearer. Oh, I knew of Twilight Sparkle, but having interacted with the filly several times and having my aunt's ear it was rather impossible for one not to learn who the 'Element of Magic' was. Unfortunately, she rather neglected to mention who the others were, an oversight which would cause me no end of suffering in the Galas aftermath.
Even with all this in mind, I can't say Vlad didn't perform his duty admirably. He was a beastly lout, vain, selfish, and oh so cruel. I did almost slip out of character when presented with an apple fritter, however. That damnable sweet tooth of mine hadn't been sated for hours and it was refreshingly simple fare. Crisp, warm and fluffy filling, with a light dusting of cinnamon for that extra oomph. Disappointingly 'Vlad' had to reinforce his image though and 'common' food was off the menu. It's still a mystery to me how the mare managed to set up shop on the grounds without my permission, or what she even hoped to achieve considering the fully catered buffet on offer?
Playing actor was enjoyable, but it did come with its downsides. While Vlad was showing Rarity a 'good' time, he was rather neglectful when it came to the matter of the Gala. Now I may seem capricious regarding its state, but despite my failure to add some pizazz, the Gala was still tied to my name. A good amount of blood, sweat, and bits had been spent in trying to bring it all to fruition. I wanted it to succeed, to hear the praise of the crowd, to reignite the fervour within me! I wanted...I wanted to feel useful again my Night Star. I wanted the old Blue Blood back.
....
I shouldn't have written that. You are suffering enough, you've no need to hear my whining. I could start again, write a new letter, but then what would be the point really? It defeats the core purpose of this. Honesty. I must tell you how I feel and I feel crushed my love. The Gala ended terribly.
After several hours and with great difficulty, the facts were gathered, my part rather small in the whole affair. I had returned to the great hall with Rarity, continuing my act with great aplomb. The dominos began to fall, however, when some drunken earth pony ( having stormed the stage in my absence) assumed 'crowd surfing' on nobles was a capital idea. Diving into the audience she managed to upset the apple cart (quite literally) with the fritter-selling mare from earlier. A rather delicious cake was sent flying and...well...Vlad took over. It was embarrassing in hindsight, using Rarity as a shield and then cringing from a few crumbs of cake frosting, but it can never be said I don't give it my all in a role. As that display occurred though, a loosened statue toppled. Thankfully a Pegasi rather admirably attempted to catch it, attempt being the key word. Let me just say that masonry and statue repair isn't cheap and leave it at that. Finally, just as things were beginning to calm somewhat, an absolute lunatic released hundreds of animals from the menagerie into the Gala itself!
Events were blurred after that, a whirlwind of marble dust, wild animals and stampeding citizens, with our beloved Solar Monarch nowhere in sight. It was a nightmare in short, a nightmare with my name on it. Oh the damages could be repaired, the money easily replaced, but my reputation? That had been gutted quite neatly. Just another mistake to add to the ever-growing pile of 'Perfect Prince Blueblood'.
At the beginning of this day I wanted to tell you of nothing but the best. Of soft lights and gorgeous music, fine foods and smiling ponies. I wanted you to dream of us dancing, your leathery wings wrapped around me as we swayed amongst the crowd. Instead, I present unto you a nightmare, my dreams shattered into ruin once more. Honesty is important, but it hurts my dear, it hurts oh so much.
From, your loving husband
Blue Blood.
Author's Note
So, to clarify a few things.
Night Star is an OC, it is also not her actual name but a sobriquet Blue Blood calls her.
There are three Blue Bloods, Blue Blood the private Unicorn, Prince Blueblood the favourite of high society and Vlad.
