Saturday, June 6th, 909 AB (8 days later)
Morning

Cure lifts his head slightly, nuzzles his chin up and around the filly’s horn, and rubs his right cheek against the little spoon’s left, sighing in contentment. Ferric stirs behind him, yawning and wiggling closer, then stretches her left hind leg, shaking the muscles loose before dropping it over top of his. The purple wing on the other side of Dawn tells him where Drift ended up, but he’s not sure where Heavy or the rest of the girls are.

Everypony had been able to come over for a sleepover last night, both as a way to celebrate the family’s first Friday in their new home and as a farewell sendoff for the colt. It will be the first time Cure will be away from his parents more than overnight, as well as the first time he’s not had any of his friends nearby. They’ll be arriving the morning of the eighteenth, which will give them a day to recover before the festivities begin.

Cure will be busy working for much of their visit, something he’s repeatedly warned them all about. Everypony seems to understand this will be more of a business trip than a pleasure one, at least for him. They’ll be free to join in the festivities, but he’ll be busy either at the hospital, rehearsal for the coronation, or trying to get in some much-needed rest.

Content to stay laying in bed as long as possible, Cure sighs and rests his head on the older filly’s foreleg. Ferric’s growth has started to become evident; the girl that was only an inch or so taller than him has grown nearly two inches just since their return from the capital.

She’s not the only one either. Since getting her mark, Drift has started noticeably growing as well. Her tribe means it’s not quite as pronounced, but she’s caught back up to Cure who had started gaining on the older girl, likely owing to getting his mark and being at peak health. Between her cut physique, routinely perfect complexion, unique wings, and absolutely stunning pattern, Cure would bet good money that more than a few colts at her school have shown an interest.

He makes note to talk to them and the rest of his friends to find out if any of them would prefer ending up slightly taller than average. The long legged look on mares is extremely sought after in pony society.

It’s not just mares, either. Taller stallions are desired more due to the perception that they’re healthier and, as a result, are more likely to sire stronger foals. There’s also the ergonomic advantage taller stallions have in the most common position; things just tend to line up better when the stallion has a hoof or two over the mare.

Rising hasn’t really started growing yet, but she won’t turn ten until next January. Cure just hopes Dawn gets her mark sometime soon. It’s going to be really awkward for both of them if he shoots up like a weed and she only grows a couple hooves. He can only imagine the stares the pair will get if he’s ten or more hooves tall and she’s still only seven or less.

Any further thoughts are interrupted when his bedroom door is opened. He turns his head to the left, extending his horn so he can “see” with his aura, but the move becomes unnecessary a second later when, with a flap of her wings, Glacial hops on the bed. She circles around behind Ferric and lays across her shoulder, giving the dark filly a nuzzle before poking at Cure’s cheek with her snout.

She nibbles at his ear, earning herself a light whack when he flicks it in agitation. With one last bite and a conciliatory lick she straightens his mussed fur up and leans in to whisper. “We made breakfast for everypony.”

“Hmm?”

“Umm… sort of. Me, Rising, and Coast helped your dam and mom.” She scrunches her snout adorably and complains, “Heavy said it’s best for him to stay out of the way, so he didn’t help and Saph…” she sighs, “she was kind of all over the place.”

“Yeah, that sounds about right. At least Heavy knows his limits, I guess. Title or Amethyst?”

“Mmhmm. Mrs. Blossom,” she confirms with a nod.

“Good, there’s probably still some left then.”

Drift leans to her left and lifts her head off the bed, looking over upside down at the pair. “What’d ya make?”

“Me and Mrs. Vines made batter for something she calls French Toast.” She nuzzles her chin against his cheek and says, “She said it’s one of your favorites.”

“Score!”

She looks back to the other pegasus and continues, “Coast and Rising cut up some apples and Mrs. Blossom said she’s going to pan fry them for a side. She also scrambled a bunch of eggs, but said she didn’t need much help with those. Your dam said she’ll have everything ready in a few minutes. You awake, Dawn?”

“Am now,” the filly grouses as she stretches her legs forwards and back.

“I’m up,” Ferric says, otherwise not moving at all.

“C’mon, I’m hungry,” Drift demands as she rolls to her hooves. She doesn’t hesitate to hop down and head out the door, though it sounds like she’s making a pit stop to wash up on the way.

Glacial hops off to follow, calling back for everypony to hurry up as she makes her way out.

“As much as I would love to stay like this all day,” Cure sighs an aborted yawn, “we do need to get moving. The pegasi will be waiting for me at ten, and it’s gotta be at least seven thirty already.” He gives Dawn one last squeeze and another nuzzle into her mane, then lets her roll out of his embrace before following, himself.

Ferric also lets out a big sigh but nods as she rolls to her hooves. Not wanting her to feel left out, Cure gives her a nuzzle too, brushing against the left side of the filly’s cheek before wrapping his neck around hers and resting his chin on her withers. “Thanks for the cuddles, Red. I don’t normally get to be the little spoon.”

The sudden uptick in heat makes it hard to stifle a chuckle, but the blushing filly would just be more embarrassed, which would not help him in his goal of improving her confidence. With one last squeeze he lets out another deep sigh and he separates to make his way to breakfast. He splits off to the upstairs restroom and the girls head down to the main level one before regrouping in the dining room that’s as large as the living room in their old house.

Cure could easily afford to buy a sizable mansion at this point. Sure it would give the family more room, but they won’t need it anytime soon. Title, despite her desire for a colt, is going to hold off for a little while until Savvy is a bit older.

With the promise of an indefinite lifespan, perfect health, and unassailable financial security there’s just no huge rush anymore. It’s not a matter of “if” but “when” thanks to the colt’s talent. Lemon and Amethyst have talked about having a couple, but are holding off until next year.

The family had spent some time shopping for furniture for the new house. Cure had suggested he just make everything, but his parents had a good point; he had previously been making an absolute fortune; far more in a week than a typical family can expect to earn in a month.

Now he was making twice as much due to the increased number of appointments and the new wing modification options he began offering. Since he doesn’t have many expenses there’s just not a good reason not to put some of that money back into the economy.

Of course, the expectation wasn’t that Cure was going to pay for all of the furniture anyhow. He’d downright demanded they let him chip in on the house, but aside from the appliances he had already bought and furnishing his own room, they paid for everything else.

The table, while longer than the one they’d had, isn’t quite big enough for five adults, eleven foals, and a high chair, which is fine this time as his family had all gotten up and eaten before they did. Like the ones in restaurants, fold out benches are set into the side of the unit so that foals and pegasi can climb up and still reach everything.

Cure brushes against Dawn’s back while he walks behind her to hop up to the only vacant seat that has evidently been left for him. Ferric is to his left, still blushing faintly from the affection upstairs. Her sister is smiling broadly while poking at her left side and asking why she seems so unusually happy.

Heavy is across from the aqua menace, sitting close enough to Coast that their haunches are touching. The pegasi fill in the rest of the other side of the table with Glacial across from Cure and Drift to her left. With none of the parents joining the group, Rising ends up at the end to Cure’s right, seated between Dawn and Drift.

“‘Mornin, Ladies,” he calls, looking around the room, “and gentlestallion, I suppose. Thanks for helpin with breakfast and, or staying out of the way of said help.”

“Anytime, bro,” Heavy quickly responds, earning a light scowl from the three that helped. “Me ‘n Saph worked really hard on it. Thank goodness your dam was there to lend a hoof, though. Barely anything got burned at all.”

“Nice. Well done,” Cure compliments, nodding in approval.

“He didn’t do squat,” Coast insists while bumping the colt. “Me, Glacial, and Rising did all… well, some of the work while they played with your sisters and pretended to supervise.”

“Pretend supervision is an important job skill,” Cure refutes. “My understanding is that most workplaces, especially in government, have pretend supervisors running the majority of projects. Especially if they put the words ‘Special’ or ‘Priority’ in the name. Pretend supervisors are a key part of those teams’ leadership in particular.”

“Yeah!” the colt readily agrees. “Maybe I’ll get a cutie mark in supervision, then I can tell ponies what to do and get paid for it!”

“That’s not what being a supervisor is like at all,” Dawn argues. “Just ask my sire, he’ll tell you how awful it can be.”

“What’s so hard?” he asks. “Just tell ponies what to do and, ya know… they do it. Right?”

Ferric snorts at the suggestion. “We tell ponies to check their tools every year in January. They bring ‘em all in dull, worn, and needing fixed up around March in a panic ‘cause they didn’t.”

“I’ve not had to supervise anypony,” Cure admits, “but in my experience, ponies in supervision spend most’a their time dealin with adults actin like they oughta still be in school. Would you want Miss Apple’s job, just with grownups instead of foals?”

An unsure look crosses Heavy’s face as he considers the suggestion, but Cure does have an alternative idea. “Of course, if you were to get some kinda supervision cutie mark it may help you figure out how to get around that stuff. If that happened I’d hire you in an instant just to run all or some of my businesses for me.”

“Business es?” Glacial questions.

“Somepony’s been doin some scheming!” Sapphire calls in a sing-song. She leans forward to look past her sister and, with a broad, eager smile asks, “Are ya hiring?”

“Dunno, Saph. Maybe more like partnering or, kinda, delegating.” He turns back to Glacial and starts to explain, “BodyWorks is just the start, babe.” Cure pauses as his dam and Amethyst walk in carrying plates, drinks, and carafes of syrup.

Vines gives her son a kiss on his cheek when she puts his plate in front of him, a bit of affection he has absolutely no problem returning despite his friends watching. Pony society is, after all, far more accepting of physical affection, so the thought of teasing him probably doesn’t even cross most of their minds.

After a round of thanks is given everypony starts digging into their breakfast with gusto, enjoying the sweet confection they’ve never had before. Savoring the dish for as long as possible, Cure continues talking between bites. “So anyhow, I’ve talked to my parents about starting a property acquisition and remodeling business.

“With my mom’s special talent,” he gestures with a wing towards the kitchen that Amethyst and Vines retreated to, “she would be awesome for identifying undervalued homes. I can use my plants to go in, remodel a house, fix it all up, and then resell it for, hopefully, anywhere from a twenty to fifty percent increase in price.

“Then there’s the whole flight suit market I’m thinkin of tapping into when I live in Canterlot next year. I’d like to fly up to Cloudsdale and get a look at the stores up there and see what kinda competition I’m looking at, but I bet I could sell suits like yours,” he nods to the pegasi, “for maybe a grand apiece.

“They would probably be considered a luxury product at that price point, so I dunno how many I could sell, but I could probably find a store willin to carry them, then every month send ‘em a dozen or so in various sizes.”

“I’m not sure most ponies will pay a thousand bits for a flight suit,” Glacial slowly voices. With a grimace she adds, “That’s… a lot of bits, Cure. Probably worth it, but still, that’s more than most ponies can afford.”

“They seem really nice, though, and they’re really durable,” Rising points out. “How long should one normally last?”

“A really long time,” Cure answers. “They’re extremely high quality. How much does a normal flight suit cost?”

“For an adult?” Glacial asks in clarification. At his nod she explains, “A hundred, maybe a hundred and twenty five bits for a plain cotton one, which are awful in bad weather. Wool are about twice as much because the sheep charge a lot. Custom tailoring also costs more, but I don’t know. Another hundred or so?” she asks, turning the question over to Drift. The darker filly just shrugs and hums in agreement, not stopping her eating.

Cure is aware that clothing is far, far more expensive, relatively speaking, compared to human economies. There isn’t really mass production and the demand is a very small fraction for common ponies. Foals generally don’t bother with flight suits and they’re not really even necessary for mares.

Stallions, on the other hoof, typically don one before heading out so their gear isn't flapping in the wind or in everypony else’s faces. They’re not strictly necessary, but as far as clothing is concerned it’s by far the most widespread ‘day to day’ use in Equestrian society.

“Eh… maybe that isn’t worth it then. Or maybe it would be a custom order thing. I’ll be busy enough. I don’t think I’ll wanna spend a bunch of time making suits for only a hundred or so bits profit on each one.”

“How much time would it take to make a suit?” Drift asks.

Cure has to pause, looking up in thought, “If I had a scan of the pony? Seconds. If I had to go by the measurements alone? Probably still less than a minute. Hay, maybe the two of you could go in business together,” he suggests, pointing between the two pegasi. “Glacial can be the salespony taking orders, getting the measurements, and giving that to me, then Drift can do the deliveries. It’s somethin to do to make a few bits ‘till you get your mark, at least.”

“That… sounds awesome!” Drift excitedly cheers. She turns fully to the platinum filly with a hopeful look.

“Sure, we could try it. Just out of curiosity, what’ll the pay be?”

“I’ll barely be doing anything. How about twenty percent for me and you two split the other eighty?” Cure suggests. “I only have a couple kilograms of dust here, so I would need more if lotsa ponies want ‘em enchanted.”

“I doubt many will,” Drift argues. “That’s definitely not something you see on most suits.”

“Cool. I’ll let you two sort out all the details like the business name and stuff. Just keep in mind that come next fall I’ll be moving, so this is probably a very temporary thing. Or we can look at shipping things, but that will drive up the cost.”

Both girls nod with Drift voicing their understanding. “That’s fine! Like you said, it’s just a way to make some bits until we’re old enough to find a real job.”

Dawn takes the opportunity to chime in, “I can supply the crystals if anypony wants the enchanted ones.”

“Is there any chance you could make toys for us to sell?” Coast asks. “The ones you made for Summer, Fall, and your sisters are way nicer than what they have at the store.”

“Sure. I have a plant-based foam I can make. We may need to play with the springiness to get them just right. The only issue is that plushies like that are cheap, so I’m not sure it’s worth the hassle. A nice stuffed animal toy is… what, twenty bits?”

“My sisters wear normal dolls out in a few months,” Heavy starts. “Mom is always stitching ‘em back together. They’re like twenty-five bits. The cloth you used is way tougher, so maybe we could sell ‘em for forty?”

“I can ask dam to sell them at her store!” Sapphire suggests. “Maybe just a couple shelves by the door.”

“Like them,” he waves to the pegasi, “I’ll leave that all entirely up to you all to sort out. I’m gonna be busy enough. Maybe after breakfast I can make y’all a few dozen different toys so you can test the market. I could make some suits in the typical adult sizes while I’m at it. Other than bunnies what sounds like it would sell?”

The smaller, foal sized plush toys and pegasus flight suits weigh almost nothing. So little, in fact, that five kilograms of material was enough to make twenty suits and forty toys. With several dozen adult pegasus scans at a resolution of well above five million DPI3, Cure has a pretty good grasp on what size suit is needed to fit the average mare within acceptable tolerances.

He only has a dozen stallion scans, but pony sizes don’t seem to vary too much within the same tribe. A couple inches, or five centimeters, variance in one direction or the other means that eighty percent at just about the average and ten percent a half hoof in either direction should do the trick, at least for an initial roll-out.

For stallions he’d even included some additional support and a buttoned fly just like human underwear would have. It occurred to him that this could very well be the first time in Equestrian history that proper ball-supporting clothing options have been made specifically to increase stallion comfort. Clearly this will go down as his single greatest achievement in his life and he can’t wait to tell the princess about it.

As for other clothing options, Heavy had come up with a good suggestion; sets of onesies for foals. The summer foals can have the first few sizes be thinner for the warmer weather, then a few thicker, wool-stuffed sets whereas the winter foals would be the other way around. It’s a good idea, but Cure would need supplies that are foal-safe; the last thing he wants is to find out one somehow pried off a button and choked on it.

He considers trying to figure out velcro, but isn’t sure how it works, exactly. He knows it’s a set of loops that somehow mesh together, but hasn’t spent much time experimenting to figure out how. That’s just another item that gets added to his list of projects for now. He figures with his rapid ability to prototype variations he should be able to figure it out quickly enough, but not before he has to depart.

As for the animals selected for plush toys, Cure made a wide range of “cuteified” critters including bears, pigs, dogs, cats, and, of course, bunnies. He used his original cutie mark as a maker’s mark, placing it on the inside of the suits near the seam and on a hind paw of each of the toys, and added a second one on the inside of toys to thwart any would-be copycats that will inevitably crop up.

Knowing that he wouldn’t be back in town for just shy of three weeks, Cure also enchanted a few crystals with Prestidigitation and showed his friends how to use them. Dawn was happy to offer her help as well, so recoloring anything to a customer’s specifications won’t be a problem.

Most of the remaining time before he had to leave was spent being aggressively babied by his dam. His sire and the other mares got some love and affection from the colt, but they could tell the idea of her son going on ahead worried her.

Cure is certain that if it weren’t for the princess herself assuring his safety then he would be forced to ride the train with a parent instead. It was only four months prior that she wouldn’t even let him book the spa visit without a parental escort, but with Princess Celestia saying he’ll be perfectly safe she’s willing to let him go a third of the way across the country.

The fact that a half dozen elite guards from Fort Meadow will provide escort helped alleviate much of the concern. Her son’s own capabilities, including his demonstrated ability to subdue literally dozens of attackers without even fighting, helped quite a bit more. That he is allegedly unkillable offers almost no comfort whatsoever, and he wisely did not comment about it. Every plan he has is geared to never finding out if that’s true or not, so there’s no point in bringing it up.

With thoroughly packed bit pouches and a promise that he’ll Send one last goodbye as he passes over, Cure gives everypony one last round of love before trotting out the door towards the pond. Once there he slips away into the woods, adopts his Riddle disguise, unfurls his wings, grows out his suit, and takes to the air towards Baltimare.

He paces himself flying into the city so as to not stand out too much. A lone pegasus colt flying around isn’t exactly unusual even at his age. His slightly larger frame makes him seem a little older than he is, so nopony really pays him any mind. He makes his way to the park near the zoo and ducks into some bushes before casting Invisibility and finishing his Serpentus alterations, then heads south to pick up a couple dozen doughnuts.

Cure hadn’t gathered much notice flying through the air. The golden color of his suit certainly stood out against the morning sky, but most ponies don’t look up and, interesting as it is to see an alicorn flying about, that’s all he was really doing; going from point A to point Beakery. There were certainly a few eyes following him, doing what he now calls the “alicorn gawk,” but some “your highness!” shouts and lots of smiling nods in greeting are the worst of it.

His sire had a good point; he can’t expect ponies to ever get used to seeing him until he goes out enough that they start seeing him as just another pony. It’s possible, he supposes, that at some point his presence may not gather much more attention than anypony else’s does, which will make it a lot easier to transition to a fully public persona eventually.

He can’t, after all, expect the girls to be completely unable to spend time with him in alicorn mode, especially if they enter into a long term, formal relationship. Or if he ends up as tall as Celestia. Shrink is a valid option, but he’s pretty sure that running that all the time everywhere would get tedious, not to mention the inevitable eventuality that the spell will fail or be removed at just the wrong time.

He does have a plan to deal with any potential size issue, and early testing has been extremely promising. Theorists suggest the brain is located where it is for a number of reasons. The one Ed had always heard was so that the majority of sensory inputs are nearby, allowing faster response times to external stimuli.

With the addition of faster copper wiring in his system and the confirmation that dragonscale insulation mitigates shock risk, there’s no reason why his brain needs to be where everypony else keeps theirs. With a brainbox located in his barrel it would be far easier to swap bodies, thus allowing him to immerse himself in his plant, then step out in whatever size or shape is needed for any occasion.

It’s a foolproof plan that he’s certain will be well received by everypony.

It seems like the streets are fairly busy for a Saturday morning, but given that it’s a nice sunny day and the summer heat hasn’t really set in, current conditions are about as ideal as they can be for families to get out of the house.

There’s a decent flow of ponies coming and going from the Beakery, but despite the traffic there’s plenty of room for him to swoop in for a landing. He sets down without fanfare and follows behind a pegasus stallion with his little filly on his withers and enters the shop.

<< Stoppin ta grab some doughnuts for the guards, dam. I’ll message ya when I get to Carol. >>

<< Okay, sweetie. >>

The chestnut stallion seems completely unaware of Cure’s presence, which he finds absolutely hilarious because the dude clearly notices everypony stealing glances in his general direction. Cure can only assume he thinks his daughter is just that cute which, to be fair, isn’t wrong.

The little yellow filly climbs down her sire’s back from his withers, staring over his tail at the colt. The move causes the stallion to glance back, but he doesn’t follow the girl’s gaze down and refocuses back forwards on the selection of pastries and confections available to figure out what he wants.

Everypony watches on as the filly smiles and waves a hoof at Cure, who happily responds in kind with a little wave of his own. With such an adorable audience, he can’t help but have a little fun, so he tilts his head to the right, crosses his eyes, and sticks his tongue out the left side of his muzzle, getting giggles from the cute thing.

Laying on her barrel, she holds her forehooves up beside her head like bunny ears and blows him a raspberry. Cure playfully recoils away, reaching in his mane to pull out a quickly created handkerchief. He causes some sweat to form as he wipes his face, holding the saturated handkerchief out and inspecting it as he looks between it and the cackling filly in confusion.

Shrugging his wings, he wads it into a ball and tosses it in his mouth, causing the filly to freeze and stare wide-eyed as he looks up in thought while slowly chewing. He does an exaggerated hard swallow and smacks his lips, acting like he’s trying to pick out the flavors on a complex meal. Unsatisfied with the taste, he makes a disgusted face, holding his hoof over his muzzle and puffing up his cheeks.

The squeaky giggles and shaking of the filly, along with the quiet chuckles and muffled laughter of everypony watching finally get the stallion’s attention. He cranes his neck right to look back and see what she’s laughing at and meets Cure’s eyes. He gives the colt a smile and a quick bob of his head, then turns back to the counter.

It isn’t hard to spot the instant realization sets in. The slight subconscious movements of the stallion’s ears, tail, and the shuffling of his hooves as he waits all come to an immediate and complete stop. Joints lock, breathing halts, wings raise slightly off his sides, and, ever so slowly, the stallion turns to look back again as if waiting for some great beast to pounce.

Ignoring the snickering of the watching crowd, Cure smiles and returns the greeting to the internally panicking pegasus and offers a casual “Howdy” before leaning to the side to peek around him and humming in consideration.

“Your highness?” the stallion squeaks out in question.

“Hmm?” he innocently asks.

“Would you like to,” he trails off, waving a hoof ahead of him.

Cure flicks a wing dismissively while shaking his head no. “Nah, thanks though. Just gettin a snack for the road, ya know? Go ahead, mister,” he finishes, motioning forward with his snout.

Slowly nodding in acceptance, though clearly incredibly uncomfortable, the stallion steps up to the counter and places his order. Cure can smell the anxious perspiration from the dude, but that’s just something he’ll have to deal with until everypony gets used to him.

There’s absolutely no reason the colt can come up with to explain that scared reaction, but he recognizes he doesn’t have much room to talk. He almost dropped a brick when he opened the door to find the princess standing there back in January, but at the same time, Princess Celestia standing on one’s doorstep is quite a bit different from some nearly no-name newly minted alicorn doing normal everyday things in public. He knows she draws attention when she’s out, but she’s half again the height of an earth pony stallion and has the sheer presence that fills any room she enters.

Without Cure providing any more entertainment, the filly gives him one last wave and turns around to climb back up to her sire’s withers and focus on the treats she can see to either side of his neck. The stallion finishes ordering and takes the paper bag in his teeth before hastily stepping to the side. He gives a half bow and retreats out the door, at which point Cure notices the ponies all behind him standing an extra few steps back as well.

Mentally shrugging, he steps up to the counter and rears up, giving his wings a half flap for balance. “‘Mornin, Early. Can I get a dozen glazed and another dozen mixed ta go, please?”

The griffon fixates on the horn, leans to the side to double check that he did, indeed, see wings, then shrugs and says, “Sure thing, colt. Twenty bits,” he says, stooping down to gather the requested order.

Once the exchange is made Cure calls out a quick thanks, then with a “pardon me,” makes his way past the staring crowd and out the door.

“Name and purpose of your visit?” the mare asks.

Cure stares at the earth pony guard for a second, not exactly sure how to answer. Every time he’d come with BRG3 he simply walked right past the gate, only getting a cursory glance since he was accompanied by six or seven guards, depending on if Solar was joining instead of his sire. The guard that is questioning him is certainly doing her job, it just strikes Cure as strange given the bizarre awe-filled looks he’s been getting otherwise.

“Serpentus. I’m… umm… to report to Captain Stance to meet with my aerial escort. I guess? I dunno, the princess didn’t give me specifics.”

“Do you have your paperwork?” she asks.

“I don’t think there is any paperwork?” Cure answers with a questioning lilt. Celestia didn’t send him anything, she just said to meet up with the captain Saturday morning around ten o’clock.

The unicorn watching from the guardhouse behind the gate sighs and facehooves, mumbling something under her breath. She walks out grumbling the whole time and leans her muzzle next to the earth pony’s ear. “Moron, that’s the new prince! Let him through!”

“He doesn’t have papers, though,” the guard whispers back.

“Does he have wings?” she hisses.

The earth pony looks back. Cure raises a wing, then a single brow.

“Yeah, he seems to.” Cure fluffs his feathers up slightly. “They look real,” she notes.

“Does he have a horn?!”

Cure floats a bag of doughnuts off his back, intentionally making his horn glow visibly at the same time. The mare’s eyes follow the bag, then glances between it and his horn a couple times.

“He does,” she confirms with a nod in surety. “I’m pretty sure it’s real too.”

“Then he doesn’t fucking need papers, you id…” she pauses, eyes widening as it dawns on her that Cure has evidently heard the whole conversation. She clears her throat and stands at attention. “Go right ahead your… sirness?” She pauses to consider the appropriate title, then shrugs. “The captain is awaiting your arrival at the command building.”

“Thank you corporal. Would either of you like a doughnut? I grabbed some from Early’s Beakery on the way.”

The private lights up with a bright smile, nodding eagerly. “Got any powdered jelly ones? I like grape the best!”

The unicorn sighs, shoulders sagging in disappointment at her fellow guard’s behavior. “Just a glazed if you have any, sir. Thank you, sir.”

Cure floats the bag off his back and peers in, lifting a glazed to the unicorn and a grape jelly filled powdered one to the earth pony. The latter unabashedly wags her tail as she digs in, moaning in contentment as she thanks him. The unicorn gives him a more subdued thanks again and moves back to the guardhouse, grumbling under her breath the whole way.

Cure canters past the pair towards the one that he’s pretty sure is the command building. Several patrolling squads pass by, some saluting, others offering a nod in greeting. The base is pretty small, overall, and there’s only a few buildings that have permanent guards standing in front of them. He knows one is the armory, so he heads towards the other that looks more like a typical, if more fortified, office building.

His guess is proven correct when he’s greeted and escorted to a briefing room on the first floor, just to the left of the entrance on the interior of the building. A single guard walks him there, opening the door for him, then pulling it shut behind him.

Captain Stance is there, uncovered in her golden armor, as is a pegasus stallion with a single silver bar on his pauldrons. The pair are to his left, having a discussion as he enters. To his right are several desks, much like the bullpen room he always meets BRG3 in. Cure knows the lieutenant that nearly got him killed was a mare and is long gone, so this is evidently her replacement.

The lieutenant looks younger than it feels like somepony at that rank should be, likely somewhere in his mid-twenties with no evident signs of aging. His coat is a darker blue and he has a black mane just like Cure’s sire.

“Captain, lieutenant,” he greets, floating the bag of doughnuts onto a desk. “I made a pit stop on the way to grab some doughnuts. Feel free to help yourself. I figure the squad will need to carb up for the energy since we have a lot of ground, or sky, I suppose, to cover.”

Stance gives a curt nod and a quiet thanks in acceptance and goes back to studying the map of eastern Equestria hanging on the wall.

“I’m sure they’ll appreciate that,” the pegasus says. “First Lieutenant Flowing Quill, sir,” he introduces with an offered hoofbump, “pleasure to meet you.”

“The pleasure’s mine, lieutenant.” Cure gives the hoof a bump, then looks at the taller desks and frowns. The lieutenant catches the expression and jerks his head to the wall where some raised benches are sat aside. The colt floats one over and hops up, diggin out a glazed doughnut with caramel icing he had set his eyes on while the lieutenant rejoins the captain to resume whatever they were working on.

As he takes his first bite he checks his pocket watch and sees that it’s only a few minutes before ten o’clock. He barely puts it back in his mane when there’s a knock just before the door opens, revealing two uniformed pegasi stallions. As they enter he notes one has a single gold bar and the other wears three chevrons.

Both step inside the room and, as the captain and lieutenant turn to regard them, stand at attention and salute the two officers. “Ma’am, Lieutenant Fury Dive and Sergeant Sidewinder Shift reporting.”

The captain nods and responds, “At ease,” at which point they look to the left to find Cure wiggling happily in his seat, waving a doughnut-clad hoof in greeting. “Sup?”

After getting a briefing of the intended route, along with introductions to the ponies providing escort, Cure gives the group a vague description of his capabilities; specifically, he explains that they will, essentially, not get tired so long as they stay within his horn’s range. He considers offering to modify their wings or even improve their lungs to be more avian like his own.

Ultimately he keeps the sharing of details to a minimum, though. The former, he feels, is a little too close to the new service he is offering in his civilian identity and the latter seems excessive for a single trip.

Still, the thought of beginning, at some point, to offer legitimate functional upgrades to other ponies seems far less worrisome than it was before his ascension. The concern now isn’t so much about some high ranking military officer forcing him to, but as a prince of Equestria, it may draw attention from neighbors as a form of military buildup. The dragons probably wouldn’t care since their egos make them think they’re invincible, but squadrons of flying, super strong pseudo-alicorns sounds like something that other governments of the world may take note of.

The only saving grace would be that Equestria has never sought to forcibly expand its borders into any land occupied by another sapient creature. Colonies of deer, bison, and diamond dogs exist in various regions of the country, but aside from the rare trading and occasional cultural misunderstanding, everycreature had been left mostly to their own devices.

There’s also the fact that Equestria, as it is right now, has more than enough land that there’s little reason for it to look outside. Huge swatches of land sit undeveloped all over the country, and the total population is so low that there’s simply no need to look elsewhere.

With the decision to not offer modifications to the squad, Cure has to accept that the journey will take longer than he had hoped. That being said, the route chosen couldn’t be much simpler; the squad would depart from Base Carol at ten thirty and head directly west, following the train tracks that pass the southern tip of Hollow Shades.

The first pit stop will be at the guard outpost in the city, which is only about fifty kilometers west of Baltimare proper. The only reason they’re stopping so soon is because the next city is a significant distance away.

Hollow Shades is a much smaller city than Baltimare. The population is somewhere around twenty thousand ponies, nearly eighty percent of whom are bats; an unusually high number given the population. It’s one of the largest bat population centers in the northern half of the country, though Cure isn’t sure what prompted the bats to end up there rather than somewhere farther south where it’s warmer.

As they continue west the Foal Mountains will be to their south for the first several hundred kilometers, eventually curving south just east of Foaledo. They’ll stop there for a late lunch and one last break before banking southwest around Detrot, which they will completely bypass. The last leg of the trip will loop them south around the east side of Mt. Canterhorn, then north to land directly on the castle grounds.

The anticipated travel time? Five hours. Per the princess’s instruction, if the group encounters any difficulty that will delay them beyond six, they are to give Cure privacy so that he can “notify” her immediately. She had agreed to send a dragonfire message to Captain Stance when the group arrived, who will relay the message to Bulwark and, ultimately, Cure’s parents.

Plan explained, escort stuffed full of sugar, and with an impatient colt ready to get underway, the six pegasi and single alicorn finally take off just after ten thirty. As they fly over Golden Hills he looks down, happy to see all his friends and family amongst the group of ponies waving up to him. He Sends a few last “see ya later” messages and, with the last bit of juice in the crystal, tells his family he loves them as they pass by.

Large tracts of farmland demark the edge of Golden Hills. Cure has to consciously peel his eyes away from the fields full of creatures working to grow corn, wheat, oats, and beans. He expected to exclusively see earth ponies working, but more than a few cows and an occasional bull are out in the fields too.

As beautiful as the landscape of the wilderness is, there’s simply not much to see other than trees with a single cleared swatch of land for the railroad tracks. Due to a lack of fast transportation options there’s virtually no civilization outside of a few kilometers from a city’s borders.

Twenty minutes into flying he spots Hollow Shades off in the distance slightly to the group’s right. It doesn’t take too much longer before the lieutenant points towards a building more like the station in Golden Hills than a proper Base like Baltimare has. As the group lines up to comes in for a landing two squads of guards form up in the yard with three ponies standing ahead of them.

A call of “Form up” is shouted by the lead; a solid black bat mare whose coat contrasts quite beautifully with the golden armor she’s wearing. The fifteen ponies all snap to attention and salute as the group lands.

Cure isn’t quite sure what he should do right at the moment, but since the squads are obviously assembled to greet him rather than his escort, he steps forward past Lt. Fury and nods to the lieutenant and sergeants ahead of the group. “A pleasure to meet you, lieutenant,” he calls as he approaches. “Sorry, I haven’t gotten the run down on all the proper protocols yet. At ease?” he tentatively calls.

The dark mare gives a shallow nod and, along with everypony else, relaxes her stance. “First Lieutenant Nightshade, sir. We have refreshments prepared for you inside if you would like.”

“That sounds great. We’ll be out of your manes pretty quickly, though I appreciate the formal greeting,” he calls slightly louder for everypony else to hear. “Lead the way,” he finishes, motioning to the building.

The pit stop is brief; with the issue of fatigue completely mitigated the group only stops to rehydrate, hit the facilities, and get another small snack before departing.

As the group cuts through the sky towards their next stop, Cure banks to fly closer to Lt. Fury. The stallion spares him a quick glance and raises a single brow in question. “Yo, L T. How far away is Foaledo from here?”

He looks to his right so that he and Sgt. Shift can share a look. “About a hundred and fifty kilometers sound about right?”

“Close enough,” Shift confirms, looking past the lieutenant to call back. “Are you getting tired? Do we need to turn back and hop on a train instead?”

Quickly shaking his head no, Cure explains, “Just the opposite. How fast can y’all move if you pour it on at max speed?”

“Ehh… we could be there in forty five if we could go all out. Can your magic hold out that long?”

Cure gives the pair an almost manic smile, nodding excitedly. “Damn right it can. Wanna see if we can be in Canterlot inside’a two hours?”

The two pause while considering it, share another look, and turn back to the colt with broad smiles, giving him all the answer he needs.

A knock at the door draws Celestia’s attention away from the stack of papers. “Enter,” she gently calls as she sets down the report.

A dark brown earth pony steps in the office and snaps a salute. “Lord Serpentus has nearly arrived, ma’am. He and his escort team are landing… well, probably any second now.”

“Already?” she asks, surprise evident on her face. “Did they leave earlier than planned?”

“I don’t think so, ma’am. Judging from the speed our perimeter scouts spotted them moving at, we believe they could have made it in under an hour and a half. I had to rush up here to let you know before they landed.”

“Ah, I see. I suspect Lt. Fury and his squad will need a good meal and a long night’s sleep. He probably forgot they do not have earth pony stamina. The poor dears,” she softly laments. Her horn flashes gold for an instant. It’s a sign Sgt. Bramble is familiar enough with indicating she has summoned a castle servant. Every so often she forgets to make it visible to non-unicorns, but she remembers most of the time.

The door opens to a light green unicorn servant with a broad smile. “Yes, your highness?”

“Please inform the kitchens that our expected guests have arrived early. I am quite certain that the six pegasi that accompanied young Serpentus will need a hearty meal once they are done cleaning up.”

“Certainly, your majesty. Should we prepare something special for Lord Serpentus as well or will he be joining you for lunch?”

“Hmm… I think the latter. Please prepare a place for him in the dining room. Thank you.” The unicorn bobs her head in a shallow bow and leaves the room at the dismissal. Celestia writes out and sends a brief note to inform Captain Stance of the colt’s arrival, then looks out the balcony doors. “You know, what, sergeant?”

“Ma’am?”

“It is quite lovely out today,” she says as she rises from her desk. “I believe I shall go greet them myself.”

“I’m sure they would very much appreciate that, ma’am,” he says as he opens the door. The pair move at a brisk pace, eager to greet the future prince as soon as he lands. Celestia’s guards fall in place behind her, following them through the castle and out into the courtyard.

She instantly spots the bright gold outfit Cure is wearing, but is somewhat surprised to find that, rather than looking exhausted, the six pegasi all look fresh and raring to go as they, and the colt, chat animatedly with a few of the distracted patrols that were nearby when he arrived.

She slows her trot to watch when the colt suddenly casts Enlarge on himself, assumes a martial stance, and squares off with a private. Both the mock combatants and the surrounding ponies are laughing as he rears back and throws a few silly, telegraphed jabs and dances around in front of his opponent on his hind legs. After a few teasing jeers from the crowd, the private, an armored pegasus from one of the patrolling groups, gives in and rears up on his hind legs opposite him.

With an encouraging cheer from the crowd the private takes a hesitant step forwards. The colt slaps at the private’s left forehoof with his own, catching him by surprise when, instead of being knocked away, his hoof is locked in an iron grip. With a maniacal glint and to roaring cheers, he yanks the private nearly off his hooves, stepping forwards and right and turning with a nearly dance-like move.

The private flaps his wings to regain his balance, but it’s too late. In a blink, Cure’s right foreleg wraps around the private’s barrel, the pair continue to spin with his momentum, Cure lifts him bodily in the air, and mock slams him down, holding the private just a fraction of a hoof above the ground before gently setting him down. The few nearby squads all erupt in shouts and cheers as the colt helps pull the private back up, casting a Cleaning on his armor to get the dust off.

The two share a laugh and a hoofbump as Celestia finally approaches. She can’t help but smile joyfully at the excited atmosphere. She catches the last part of the conversation between them as the surrounding guards rush to stand at attention.

“... so yeah, the picture looks kinda bad but it wasn’t fair and all ‘cause’a earth pony strength and grip. Besides, what the paper didn’t show is the dozens of other times Lt. Silver laid me out at the next session.” Finally seeing fit to acknowledge her presence, Cure glances her way before looking back to the private. He taps the guard on his chest piece and says, “Ah, I see how it is. I beat one of ya then y’all sic the reigning champ on me, huh?”

The colt shakes his legs and wings to loosen the muscles then reaches up and puts his right hoof on his chin. In a gut churning display he pulls his head to the right, popping and snapping seemingly every vertebrae up his neck to the distraught look of the guards, then repeats the performance going the other direction. “Alright princess, hope yer ready ta rumble. The bookies ain’t givin me the best odds, but everypony always underestimates the little fella.” He pauses his shadow boxing to flex and adds, “... until it’s too late!”

“Hmm,” she loudly hums while tilting her head back in thought. “And what, exactly, would you do if I were to accept such a challenge, young colt?”

“Probably eat more dirt than a growing colt oughta,” he happily admits. He drops back down to all fours and smiles up to the princess before dropping into a bow, wings spread wide. “It is a pleasure to be in your presence again, your majesty.”

“Oh come now, no need for that. It’s wonderful to see you, as well as all of the rest of my little ponies,” Celestia says, smiling radiantly down at the colt and his escort. She turns to Lt. Fury and greets him as well. “Lieutenant Fury, thank you for ensuring Serpentus’ safety on his journey. I hope he did not push you too hard.”

The pegasus bobs his head again before speaking up, “Not at all, ma’am! It was the most amazing flight I’ve ever been on!” He glances to the side to look at his troops out of the corner of his eye. They’re all eagerly nodding as well. He continues, “Being able to shoot through the sky at full speed, the wind in our faces, trees shooting by underneath us. It was… it was… just awesome! I’ve never felt so… so… powerful and free!” He coughs to clear his throat before quickly adding, “Your majesty.”

She gives him another beaming smile, nodding in acknowledgement. “I am relieved to hear. The kitchen staff are preparing a special meal for you. Please,” she motions towards the barracks, “feel free to freshen up and we will ensure it is delivered once ready.”

“Thank you, ma’am!”

“Certainly. Sergeant Bramble?”

“Yes ma’am?”

“Could you please show them their prepared quarters?”

“Yes ma’am. Right away, ma’am,” he says. He jerks his head towards the barracks and calls to the pegasi to follow. Lt. Fury nudges Cure and gives him a hoof bump as the two part ways.

Celestia pans her gaze over the still bowing patrol groups who are looking increasingly uncomfortable. “You may all resume your duties.” A round “yes ma’am!”s and very hasty departures leave only Cure, the princess, and her security detail behind. “Come along, Serpentus. Our lunch should be ready shortly.”

As the princess turns to head back to the castle the colt scampers to her side excitedly relaying the highlights of their trip in a barrage of words and animated hops, wing motions, and mock demonstrations. “... and then he was all, ‘Form up, we can’t be entering Canterlot airspace upside down!’ so we hadta stop playing around and fly in formation again. Oh well, we were on the ground just a few minutes later. You do anything fun today, boss?”

“I can’t say that anything particularly fun has happened, unfortunately. I spent much of the morning taking care of paperwork for the upcoming week.” At his curious look she explains, “I often visit the hospital for at least a few hours every day during the season, so I’ve been working ahead, where possible, to free up my schedule. With your parents not arriving for nearly two weeks I had planned to spend a little more time there to keep an eye on you.”

“Has there been a threat?”

“Goodness no! It’s just a good opportunity to spend time with my little ponies. Not only that, but I promised your sire last time that I would ensure you are not overworked. Finally, I am aware that my presence brings my little ponies comfort, so I have several reasons to accompany you.”

“Ah. Yeah, I was kinda wondering about that effect. You do have an aura about you.”

Celestia sighs while nodding in acknowledgement. “It’s my connection to my sun. It influences my magic presence, especially during the summer months. It takes significant effort to contain when I am not trying to draw attention.”

“Huh. Is that something I’ll have to deal with eventually?”

She shrugs her wings and nods. “I would expect so. Your likely domain is quite different, so I cannot anticipate how it may manifest itself.”

“Hmm. This could be bad, boss,” he says in a worried tone.

“How so? Such abilities are not harmful, in my experience. Only somewhat distracting until one becomes accustomed to it.”

“Well, the problem is that I’m already completely irresistible.”

“... Indeed,” she unconvincingly agrees.

“Right? And that’s with just my charming demeanor.”

She nods along. “That must be it.”

“No doubt,” he rapidly nods in agreement. “And it’s only gonna get worse when I’m officially royalty, ya know?”

“A valid concern.”

“Add in how naturally handsome I’ll be.”

Celestia coughs lightly to the side. Cure continues despite the slight mockery.

“Then, on top of all that, toss in some metaphysical manipulation and you got yourself quite the potential for a disaster.”

“We will have to plan accordingly,” she agrees.

“Yep. I only see one option. A shame, given I really didn’t want to do it.”

Celestia continues walking without responding. After several steps he lifts off, hovering to her right with his whole body turned sideways, forelegs crossed in annoyance while staring at her.

“Yer supposed ta ask what it is,” he flatly explains, scowling at the ancient mare. He reaches over and pokes her a few times on her right shoulder. “The whole bit kinda falls apart of ya don’t play along, boss.”

“Oh! Apologies, Serpentus!” She clears her throat and turns his way with a curious expression. “One option? What ever could it be? The anticipation is killing me!”

He narrows his eyes for a moment before giving an approving nod. “Four out of ten.” She pouts. “Anyhow, the only option is to clone myself. That way there can be a ‘Cure’ for every poor mare out there that is ensnared in my web. ‘Can’t get through the day without thinking of my hunky bod? Not a problem, ma’am. I’ve got the Cure for that right here!’”

He doesn’t deign to respond to her incredulous look, carrying on despite it. “I hafta admit the whole ‘evil twin’ trope is kind of a concern, but they shouldn’t be any more evil than I am unless there’s some kinda magical funkiness going on. Whatta ya think, boss? Enough Serpentuses runnin around oughta solve the problem, right?”

“Hmm. Wouldn’t more of you just further exacerbate the issue? After all, if the problem is caused by your presence…” she trails off.

“Ah fudge! I hadn’t considered that.”

“The solution, then, must be to sequester yourself away from everypony.” She lets out a defeated sigh and continues, “I’ll begin making arrangements soon. I hear Yakyakistan is beautiful at dawn and sunset. There are many unsettled regions within their borders.”

“But how will I heal everypony then?”

“A conundrum… I suppose you may be allowed near pony civilization to lend a hoof a couple times per year.”

“I suppose that’ll work,” he sighs. “At least I can visit in April and September.”

Cure hears the guards trailing them snort laughs when Celestia’s head whips to her right to scowl. The colt coughs awkwardly and amends, “I mean… to visit everypony else and stuff. Ya know… the folks and whatnot. Not that I wouldn’t drop in to say howdy or nothin.” He lands and continues walking forward, intentionally diverting his gaze away from the still staring princess. “So… what’s for lunch?”

“Hoof, apparently,” he hears mumbled from one of the guards.

He looks back and gives the smirking unicorn a weak glare. “Hopefully it’s seasoned better than the last one,” he grumbles. Despite the very uncomfortable slip, he can’t help but notice the princess’s shoulders shaking slightly in quiet laughter.

“... so the girls are workin on sellin those right now.”

“Hmm. I suppose as long as you are not running ponies out of business.”

“Nah. I’m definitely not interested in that. I’m just helpin ‘em each earn a few bits. We’ve talked about that kinda stuff a whole bunch of times with my cosmetic business. They all know I wouldn’t be okay with that, and since I control the supply,” he finishes with a shrug. The pair had finished lunch and, towards the end, Celestia had casually mentioned Cure’s room is ready for him, so the two are headed there for the big reveal.

It wasn’t difficult for him to tell the princess was nearly giddy with eager anticipation. Cure was pretty excited too and he didn’t bother trying to hide it. He wasn’t sure what to expect; the guest rooms they’d stayed in before were perfectly adequate; far nicer than what he’s always had. It’s just not appropriate, apparently, for him to not have a room of his own. Blueblood, despite being simply a “prince” rather than a “grand prince,” has his own room that he rarely uses.

“It is kind of you to give your friends that opportunity, Cure. I know you don’t mind spending money on them, but I’m sure you’re aware of the difference between somepony else giving you something versus feeling as if you earned it. Even partially.”

“Yup. That was kind of a thing I had to deal with before I started working. My parents had so little… I mean, I know they’re my parents, but I hated the thought of them not having something they wanted. You saw our old house. It was fine, I guess, but…”

“Understandable. You wanted some independence and, of course, to be able to give back. You’re a filial son, Cure. It’s admirable. Just be sure to let them spoil you some too.”

“I do. It’s just… ya know. You’ve seen my taxes, I’m assuming?” She nods. “It’s a little difficult to spoil a colt that makes five times what you do.”

“It is,” she agrees. “Speaking of taxes, the National RHA has agreed to sign onto the agreement forwarded by Baltimare’s. I do not foresee you actually paying taxes beyond, perhaps, the bill that comes at the end of this month. Even that will be reduced somewhat until they can distribute the Origin Cell trees nationwide.”

“Awesome! Not that I’m not happy to hear, but the tax thing wasn’t rushed due to, ya know,” he waves a wing.

“No, if anything it was expedited because of the ‘Colt Tree’ you made during your visit. I believe I mentioned the NHA Director? Waning Storm?”

“I think you made a comment about her being my number one fan.”

“Indeed. I admit, the rate at which your popularity is growing is impressive.” She hangs her head and, with an exaggerated pout, adds, “Soon everypony will forget about little old me. It always happens when something or somepony newer comes along, I suppose,” she laments.

“Maybe you just need to go on a PR binge, boss. See if we can get you some cool shades, maybe head out to the coast and do some surfing or something or get ya a cool catch phrase.”

“Surfing?” she mumbles, confused at the random suggestion.

“Yeah, you know, riding some sick waves. Hanging ten, whatever the hay that means. Dunno, I never did it myself.”

“I have no idea what you are talking about.”

“What? Surfing?” She nods. “You know, get a surfboard… basically like a kayak, but squashed flat… wait, why do I always forget about Illusions?” Still trotting by her side, Cure projects an Illusion of a surfboard, then projects an Illusion showing a cartoonish scene with a pegasus riding one on a wave.

“Cure?”

“Hmm?”

“I am unaware of anypony, anywhere doing such an activity for leisure.” The two share a look for a second before she adds, “Ever.”

“Oh.”

“Is this perhaps related to the conversation we had when you last visited?”

“Tangentially, I suppose.”

“I see.”

“Well, look at it this way, boss. You could invent a whole new sport. I bet they have the waves for it on the west coast somewhere. Maybe San Franciscolt?”

“There are some stretches of land that experience significant waves to the south of the city. I think I’ll hold off for now, though. As I was saying, Director Storm has reviewed the results from tests conducted on your trees and the compound they produce. They have been approved for widespread use, but she requested that you change the seeding method before distribution.

“You will need to adjust the ones in Baltimare upon your return there. An order has already been sent to the hospital to secure their trees until you can make the changes.”

“That’s… probably a good idea. Somecreature could steal a single seed and, with very little work, grow as many of them as they want. Any word on what she’s suggesting instead?”

“Yes. She requested that existing plants have that function removed completely and, instead, a single plant be made exclusively to produce seeds. That can be kept in a protected location and additional seeds can be produced as needed.” The pair stop their walk as they reach the door to his new room.

“Ah. That’s definitely more secure. I can make a seed plant pretty easily before I head home. Are the existing plants at the hospital?”

“They are not. They have been undergoing testing at the Canterlot University Medical Center’s laboratory facilities, but that is not far away. I’m sure the opportunity to stop in will present itself at some point.”

Conversation pauses as the two stare at the door. Celestia can’t keep the grin off her face as she glances between it and him. “Are you ready?” she excitedly asks.

Nodding in eager anticipation, he waves a hoof at the door. “You bet! Let’s see it, boss!”

Author's Note

A little late today because I wanted to make some last minute changes. More than normal, that is. I had written up to the coronation, but I've made a lot of changes to the next two chapters that require even more in the few afterwards. 74 and 75 will take place on the same day in-story (They will not be posted on the same day! Those are the next two weeks' chapters!) and I'm debating skipping ahead a bit afterwards just so we don't spend three months on a week and a half in the capital. I dunno, I'll figure it out, I suppose.

Just a reminder - I mentioned a couple weeks ago I have upcoming travel plans for a few weeks from about August 25th through September 13th, give or take, so nobody panic when I'm on a short hiatus there. I think that will be the last big break I take for the year, but who knows? RL doesn't cooperate nearly as much as we would all like.

All that aside, thanks for reading and I hope you all enjoy.