Thursday, June 18th, 909 AB (6 days later)
Early Evening

As much as Cure wanted to go and greet everypony as soon as they arrived, he’d committed to spending his last available days in Cloudsdale helping out. The cloud city still has a few dozen expecting, but every known pregnancy in Canterlot and the surrounding suburbs have been taken care of. Reports from Chicoltgo, Whinnyapolis, and Foaledo put them right in the middle of their peaks and, as a result, nearly all of the medical professionals Cure had worked with have already moved on.

Celestia had accompanied him when she could, but with the upcoming celebration, coronation, and the slightly reduced workforce, she wasn’t able to stay nearby the entire time. Lt. Spear volunteered to stay with him when she wasn’t available, so he was never without a mare he could trust nearby.

If need be, he was never more than a few kilometers away anyhow; well within Sending distance. It’s a convenience that she had taken advantage of just this morning when his family arrived at the castle. It was a moot point anyhow since Vines, Dawn, and Drift all Sent messages as soon as they were within range.

Dawn had apparently volunteered to do so to prevent him from getting eight messages at once, but Drift decided that since she is the oldest marked fillyfriend it was her right by default. Cure doesn’t quite agree with her logic. Ferric was born in the same season and has had her mark longer than any of them. She probably just doesn’t care enough about the pointless argument to put up a fight.

That Drift is making an issue of it presents a bit of a problem that Cure doubts will automatically get better with time. There isn’t a large cultural importance on being the ‘first wife’ like there was early on, but the position is still recognized as one of prominence. Being the first wife of an alicorn prince is, in some unofficial ways, one of the most powerful positions in the nation.

Cure has considered the fact that Drift probably hasn’t really thought the whole thing through. If she intends on following through with her destiny and flying all over the country then, for practical reasons, letting somepony like Dawn have the position probably makes more sense. She would, after all, be the one expected to be more socially active and lead the household, a role that doesn’t align well with somepony that’s frequently on the move.

It’s a matter that will have to be addressed at some point, and it’s not exactly an easy one to deal with since, unlike most matters of the family, the stallion has full control over this choice. The first wife designation can be unofficially passed to another, but the first wife will always be the first wife as far as many ponies are concerned.

Aware that the issue may not matter if, unlikely as it is, one or more decide to pursue somepony else upon his memory reveal, Cure puts the thought out of his mind as he makes his way out of the hospital. The lieutenant and two guards join him in the carriage as his pegasus defender takes his spot on the roof.

His shift completed, Cure has only one singular thought on his mind; his family is finally here and, after a dozen days of doing without, there’s nothing he wants more than to be held by his dam. The short trip feels much longer, though he’s certain it’s only because he’s excited to finally see everypony again. As he looks out the port window he takes in the mountaintop city and all its decorations.

The residents of the capital had really gone all out preparing for this year’s Celebration. Equestrian flags fly from nearly every building. Taller structures have large banners running down their sides depicting Celestia’s sun or a replica of his mark. They even decorated the street lamps going from the palace, through the town center, and east to the Sun Square for the parade; each one has a bronze snake wrapped around it, looping three times.

Their efforts aren’t that surprising, given the fact that it truly is a momentous occasion. In the long history of the country only a single known pony has achieved what he has; something that somewhat bothers him given how many millions there have been over the millennium.

It’s unfortunately not that difficult to see how it’s possible, either. Ponykind has moved forward at a snail’s pace since the Unification. There has been some advancement, granted, but the magic-powered steam engine is the epitome of technological progress, and that’s apparently been around for over a century. A combination of factors are to blame, two particular ones coming to mind immediately: population and need.

Ponies are perfectly content to simply go through their lives, rarely reaching for more or striving to break free from the day-to-day to truly accomplish anything magnificent. What’s worse is that Cure isn’t completely sure they’re doing anything wrong by that. It’s not exactly entirely accurate to say that humans were better off. Most certainly didn’t seem overall happier than an average pony does. Remarkably few, in fact, based on his memories.

Nopony starves, homelessness is extremely uncommon, families take care of their own, and an immortal nuclear weapon keeps the neighbors honest. Society does a great job satisfying the first four levels of Maslow’s hierarchy and a maybe-divine entity all but shoves ponies towards self actualization. Most see making a living using their special talent as the end goal, never considering that they’re really only scratching the surface.

The colt’s musings are cut short again as the carriage passes the palace’s west face. It continues south, past the edge of the plateau, pitching to port slightly and looping east to align with the runway that bisects the castle grounds. A soft thump and a small jolt a moment later signal that they’ve landed. The draught pegasi continue pulling it on the ground, slowing their pace until stopping between the barracks and the palace.

His guardians rise and open the door; the earth pony kicking down a step with a loud thump as he leads the way out. Cure gives the lieutenant a friendly nuzzle, which isn’t as pleasant with her armor, and climbs off the bench. His three guards are standing at attention as he climbs down and the princess, mane and tail swaying in a way that defies the wind, approaches with her radiantly beaming smile.

As Cure steps out of the carriage she calls out to him in greeting. “Good evening, Serpentus. I trust everything went well today?”

Conscious of observing patrols, the colt drops into a bow for show. “Sure did, your majesty. Only a few complications to deal with. I spent basically all day checking over the newborns again. I think that’s the winning ticket when there’s as many dams as Cloudsdale has.

“I mean… I could help deliver only so many a day, which is a large number, granted, but I can poke my head in a room full of a hundred foals and fix any problems I find in a couple minutes. We didn’t have any emergencies today.” The weight with which he says the word does not escape Celestia’s notice.

She nods in acceptance and beckons for him to stand with a wave of her wing. “I see. Excellent news all around, then.” She looks to Lt. Spear with a grateful smile. “Thank you again for keeping an eye on him again, lieutenant. I’ll make sure he doesn’t misbehave from here on.”

The colt scoffs and rolls his eyes at the remark while the lieutenant nods in acceptance of the dismissal. “Of course, your majesty.”

“Come along, Serpentus,” she calls, turning towards the castle, “I believe you have a few ponies who are eager to see you.”

The group gets moving as Cure canters to keep up with the princess’s far longer stride. “So… any word from the magic health ponies? You told me they were going out yesterday but didn’t mention the results last night.”

“The twins provided an excellent baseline for comparison of the other foals. Thus far, they have found nothing to be alarmed about,” she assures him.

“... but they found something, didn’t they?”

She sighs, nodding as she explains, “Yes, but again, it is insignificant enough that, had it not been for the two sets of twins being identical we would never have noticed it. If anything, it appears to be a boon; the revived foals have slightly more magic than the others. Less than a single standard deviation, but still higher than newborn of their tribe would normally be.”

“And the griffs?”

“The same.”

Cure sighs and hangs his head, nodding in acknowledgement. “That’s just fantastic.”

“You were there for a reason,” she assures him. “If it was not meant to be then you wouldn’t have been given the ability. We will keep an eye out in the future, just to be sure, but thus far it appears that your influence is nothing but a positive.”

“You told me a few weeks back that a foal’s magical ability, at least initially, is tied to the event that created them. You realize the implications, right?”

“I do,” she assures him, “but the suggestion that you are, in some way, those foals’ metaphysical sire is ridiculous. If anything, I would expect them to be weaker if that were the case. The first twin’s family, for example, is a healthy, happy one with strong bonds. Far stronger than any passing familiarity they could have with you, especially given you’re using an alias and a disguise.”

He sighs again, unable to refute the point. “Yeah, I guess. I’m more concerned about the others, though. With the twins I could duplicate their sisters… the others? They’re probably going to be better than they should, seeing as how I ‘fixed’ everything as best I could.”

“And I doubt very much that anypony will object to that. There is nothing wrong with giving a foal every advantage you can, however inadvertent the act may have been. If they end up noticeably healthier or smarter later in life I am certain they will appreciate your efforts all the more. It’s certainly a better result than the alternative.”

“Ehh, I mean, yeah, from a practical standpoint you’re right, but ya know I’ve avoided doing anything funky with my noggin specifically to avoid this kinda situation.”

She has the temerity to scoff at the suggestion. “You may not have changed what’s in your skull, but I will never forget that dance. One you had never done before, to a tune you had heard fully only once.” She reaches down and pokes him accusingly with a wingtip, “One that amazed the entire audience, including two of whom frequent the theater and two others that have danced for years.”

“That’s mostly ‘cause of the color thing,” he weakly defends. She continues walking, but the doubtful side-eye she gives him says plenty. “Whatever, you know what I mean. I’m not making myself a genius or anything.”

“That much is obvious,” she flatly remarks, earning an affronted “Hey!” from the colt and a few quiet chuckles from their guards. “Come along, now,” she continues, “your parents are eager to see you.” Celestia leads the way through the entry hall, up the stairs, down a hallway, past several guard posts, and finally stops at the door to the lounge room near the guest suites.

Cure pauses at the entrance, calling for the princess to wait a moment. “Are the younger foals in there? My cousins and friends’ younger siblings?”

“They are all on a tour of the castle right now, as are your great grandmothers and your aunts.” It takes the colt a split second to realize she means Lucky’s wives. He’s only met them once and still struggles even thinking of the stallion as his uncle, exactly.

Despite the absence of the younger foals, Cure quickly reverts his colors to his typical cerulean blue and green, hiding his wings rather than completely absorbing them, and retracting his horn into his neck pouch. At his nod the princess opens the door.

Like a dog dying to go out, the colt blasts through the barely opened door, beelining for the couch where his dam and sire are snuggling, the green mare sandwiched between her husband and Amethyst. All heads whip in his direction at the sound of his quick clip-clops darting across the floor. Vines barely has time to sit up before her forelegs are full of the wiggling, excited colt.

Celestia more sedately joins Title and Savvy on their couch, entertaining the filly with a rousing game of peek-a-boo. Apparently she has forgiven the princess for whatever role she had in her brother’s detonation, much to the relief of the great alicorn.

“Missed you, dam!” he calls, wrapping his forelegs around her neck and nuzzling her cheek.

“Oh, sweetie! I missed you so much!” she shouts, glomping on her baby. “How have you been, honey?”

“Good!” he excitedly shouts, barely able to keep his suddenly boundless energy contained. “I mean, it’s been super busy, but like I said in the letters, nothin like that first time. Today was way better, and we’re basically done with all the pegasi ‘cept a few who didn’t wanna make an appointment for some dumb reason,” he rants, dismissively waving a hoof to cast away their foolishness. Pausing for a half second he looks around the room. “Where’s Lemon and my grandma’s? Doin the tour?”

“Mmhmm,” she hums while nodding. “They went with everypony else. We weren’t sure exactly when you would be back.”

“Caramel hadn’t ever done the tour when we were in town before,” Brick explains.

Lucky lightly shrugs with a nod. “Ocean ‘n Pear wanted ta tag along too. An’ I didn’t know if ya wanted the little ones seein ya with yer wings and whatnot.”

“Good call. Maybe when they’re older and know what not to say,” he suggests.

As much as he wants to play favorites, he knows exactly how much it hurts to be “the other parent,” and he’d never want his sire to feel that way. Despite the urge to just wrap around his dam and stay there all night, he plants one more kiss on her cheek and leans over, latching onto his sire and squeezing him in a big hug. “Missed you, pa. The ladies been treatin ya alright?”

“Yo cous!” his uncle calls, “toss ‘em ova here once yer done hoggin ‘em!”

“Wait yer turn!” Deed hollers back. He doesn’t pass up the opportunity to smother his son, smushing the colt against his chest and nuzzling in his mane. “It’s been rough, colt. Ya know how abusive tha ladies can be.” Amethyst whips her tail, reaching around behind Vines to slap him on his rear. Deed holds his forelegs out with a “See?” expression before rolling his eyes.

“Yer lucky yer pa’s a tough one, what with all that femininity fillin up the house.” He leans down and stage whispers, “‘specially with yer dam ‘bout ready ta pop. Maker have mercy!” he exclaims with a shudder. “Can’t wait ta have ya back so I ain’t so outnumbered.” He gives the colt another squeeze, then nudges him with a fetlock. “Now go give yer moms ‘n sister some love ‘fore they get jealous ‘n take it out on me any more than they already do.”

He climbs back over his dam’s forelegs, head bonking her chest on the way, and wraps Amethyst in a hug and gets squeezed in return. A quick nuzzle later, she releases him to find his next victim. Cure turns around to see Savvy writhing and squeaking to get away from Title and the princess.

Cure hops down and lowers himself into a pounce. “Saaaavvvyyy Vennntuuure,” he growls in a deep voice, swishing his booty in the air. The filly squeals in unbridled joy, wiggling and giggling until her dam lets her go. “Saaaavvvyyy Vennntuuure,” he growls again, stalking towards his prey. His sister lets out a peal of laughter, hopping down and darting around the couch to hide on the other side. Cure takes off in mildly warm pursuit, chasing after the pink filly and calling her name, shouting, “I’mma gonna eaaat that bell-ay! Gimme that yummy filly bell-ay, Savvy!”

Squealing in delight, Savvy makes a futile attempt to escape before she’s rolled on her back by her brother. With a loud roar, the colt viciously digs into his meal, growling and nomming on the soft delicacy as its tiny hooves thrash and mercilessly kick his muzzle. Upon satisfying his predatory instincts, the colt gives her one last smooch on her tummy and hops up to wrap around Title next. “Heya, ma. Missed you,” he says, planting a kiss on her cheek.

“Aww, I missed you too, babe,” she responds, nuzzling and kissing in his mane. Savvy follows back up on the couch, glomping onto Cure’s side. “The princess has been fillin us in every night, though. Sounds like you’ve helped a lot of ponies here.”

“Yeah, like five hundred dams along with quite a few griffons, some hippogriffs, a few zebras, and even a minotaur, too. I had to make a few emergency runs once the season really hit, but we got every foal taken care of.”

“Really? That’s amazing, Cure! But I didn’t think minotaurs were on the same schedule as we are,” she says, brows furrowed in confusion.

“They normally are not,” Celestia interrupts to explain. “She is the daughter of an embassy worker, though. After living in Canterlot for so long she has apparently adjusted. The pregnancy, as I understand it, was quite the surprise, but with news of an alicorn healer planning to be present to assist with births they chose to remain in the capital rather than travel back to Minos. I believe she and her parents were quite pleased with how smoothly it went.”

“Huh… Nopony told me that. To be fair, though, I didn’t even get names on half of my patients. It was all rush, rush, rush, ya know?”

“No problems with the zebras?” Brick growls.

“No problems with anypony, grandpa. Specialist Clamor over there never even hadta give anypony ‘the look,’” he says, waving to his earth pony guardian. The stallion just smirks and shoots the colt a bro nod.

Cure scoops up Savvy on his back and makes his way to his great grandsire and uncle. Savvy refuses to let go, so after a couple careful hugs he squeezes between the two stallions on the couch. “So grandpa, I’ve been doing a little market research while I’ve been in town.” The statement gets a curious look from everypony, especially the princess. “Prince Blueblood came by for dinner last Friday and mentioned a major shortcoming of the city. One I think we could rectify.

“When he lamented the lack of a specific entertainment venue, I happened to come up with an idea that could make us a mint. I sent a message to my attorneys and found a commercial lot for sale right near the edge of the plateau to the east of here, just a little south of all the government and admin buildings.”

Brick isn’t sure what to think. The colt clearly has more going on upstairs than a foal his age oughta. His elevation to alicornhood proves that well enough if his massive financial success with his business didn’t beforehoof. At the same time, he is awfully young, and foals tend to be pretty dumb most of the time. No harm hearing him out, he supposes. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, ya see, he was talkin about havin his son, Blueblood the forty-sixth, teach me to golf, but expressed some disappointment that there isn’t enough room on the plateau for a course, right?”

“Uh huh.”

“So whatchya gonna do if you don’t have time to head on down to Brightwood after work? Just wait till the weekend?” he asks with a scoff.

“I… couldn’t say.”

“Gramps ain’t much of a golfer, colt. The only hole he can get tha ball in is the one he stomps it inta when he gets pissed off.”

Brick wrinkles his snout and huffs while turning away, not even making a token argument.

“Fair, but picture this, you get a plot ‘a land, build up a deck overlookin the edge, line it with tees, hire a few pegasi or griffs ta set up some floatin targets, set up a nice bar and lounge area, bam, boom you got yerself the only driving range on the mountain and an in for Brick House Fine Liquors right here in the capital.”

The grouchy stallion gets a far off, pensive look. “Huh.”

“It could probably be a restaurant during the day, too. There’s already a few over there, but if you want to get a few swings in during lunch there’s nowhere else to go. I figured it’s probably not too hard to come up with some kind of marker for the balls, then enchant a crystal to teleport them back up when they drop below a certain point, or just on a timer. If they can put a tracker on my watch it shouldn’t be too hard to put a short range one on a golf ball, after all.

“Maybe if it’s successful we can look at doin something similar in Baltimare and Fillydelphia over the coast, too, but I know golf’s a lot bigger here than it is closer to us. So… thoughts?”

Brick seemed interested enough in the idea that he suggested running it by his marketing and finance ponies to get an initial analysis started. It’s possible that the land may sell before they can finish, but both Brick and Cure agreed they would rather have a solid business plan written up instead of rushing to buy and hoping for the best.

His great grandsire agreed to Cure being a joint investor on the property if they do move forward and, even if they don’t at that location, promised the same if the market analysis shows potential in Manehattan, Fillydelphia, or Baltimare. The first probably has the most potential of the three, though the land costs would be higher near other shopping and entertainment areas in the larger city.

Celestia had gotten pulled away by a messenger shortly before the tour wrapped up, but still insisted she would be present for dinner which should be ready soon. With so many guests she’d had the large dining hall prepared for everypony.

Cure feels a little guilty taking advantage of her hospitality. He knows that the cost to feed and house everypony is utterly insignificant in the grand scheme of things, but relying on others’ generosity grates on him just like it did when his parents had to wait on him all the time. Mentally chalking it up as compensation for his services for the last two weeks alleviates much of the unease, at least.

Sat at the opposite end of the long table from the ancient alicorn, he looks around at all of his friends as he asks, “So… how was the trip?”

Most the foals offer an indifferent shrug along with some noncommittal grunts, but Rising grimaces in response.

“What’s wrong, RP? Didn’t like the sleeper room? When my folks and I came here last year we had something similar. Not as nice, even.”

“No… it’s not that.” She pauses as a unicorn waitress refills everypony’s drinks. Once the mare is finished and moves away she looks around a little uneasily and comments, “It’s just… there were a lot of guards. Just how many ponies tried to foalnap you last time?”

“Twelve. It was a mercenary band hired by a medical company,” he explains. Dawn furrows her brow at the number, her expression causing him to suspect her sire shared a few things with her he maybe shouldn’t have. Then again, she is his daughter; if he thinks she can deal with knowing it wasn’t just ponies then it’s not really Cure’s place to dispute it. While details about the attempt were suppressed he was never told that his friends couldn’t be read in. He just chose not to say anything in order to avoid stressing them.

“If you were watching the news a few weeks back you probably would have seen an article about all of ‘em being arrested. Pure Dew Pharm… wait.” Cure closes his eyes and sighs in disappointment. He leans back on his booster and looks at the ceiling, groaning and rolling his eyes. “Har har, world. Purdue. Good one.”

The other foals trade confused looks while he rubs at his forehead before continuing, “Anyhow, the bastards thought I’d end up costing ‘em enough to send a group to stop me. The moron leading the group screwed up and led guards to the ponies at the company that hired ‘em. The guards shouldn’t be necessary, but after last time we just didn’t want to risk it.”

“We only saw them when we were getting on and off the train,” Ferric quietly mentions. “They seemed nice.”

“Mmhmm!” her sister hums in agreement. “One of the unicorns even helped sissy’s and my dam with their luggage.”

Cure looks down the table, quickly finding the mares. While Sapphire is wearing a couple earrings and a necklace, Midnight and Diamond seem to have taken the opportunity to do themselves up like a pair of walking advertisements for their store. A simple gold and diamond bracelet on her left pastern must be her wedding band. The half dozen earrings, three necklaces, golden mane chain, and twin golden tail braids are just way over the top for a simple lunch.

Despite the, frankly, silly amount of jewelry, the light purple mare does look quite lovely. The emeralds and rubies throughout her adornments go well with her coat and royal blue mane. Apparently she’d packed a few outfits as well; one for hitting the town tomorrow night and another more formal affair for the coronation itself.

Diamond’s bright red coat and orange mane go really well with her shining gold regalia. Rubies, topaz, and garnet decorate her earrings, and a thick necklace with large sapphires is settled against her chest.

The idea of wearing more than the absolute bare minimum his station requires is unappealing to the colt, but he can’t deny the effectiveness of their advertising approach. A similar necklace in rubies would match Dawn’s orange coat and fiery mane or Rising’s yellow. Glacial, Drift, and Ferric would probably look better with silver or platinum, or white gold if it even exists in this world.

If not, maybe that’ll be another thing Ferric can figure out. She’s a blacksmith, not a metallurgist, but he’s pretty sure she could find a way to alloy gold with silver, platinum, or palladium. The last one may not even be considered a precious metal right now. Ed’s memories don’t tell him where the stuff is found, just that catalytic converters were stolen off of cars for the few ounces of the metal used in them.

“Wasn’t your sire there, though?” Heavy asks, glancing down at the black stallion.

“They had to put it in overhead storage,” she offers with a shrug, “Was just easier for them.”

“Hey Ferric?” he asks, turning to the filly on his immediate left, “Have you ever heard of a metal called palladium?”

She pinches her brows in thought and slowly shakes her head no. “You don’t mean platinum, do you?”

“Nah, it’s similar, but different. I think it’s really rare and not used much, so we may have to ask your sire about it. I’m wondering if it could be mixed with gold for jewelry since gold doesn’t really go as well as silver on darker coats.”

A brilliant blush climbs up the filly’s ears and all the other foals’ heads turn his direction to glance between the two. Sapphire’s grin is so wide Cure can see her back molars. “OH! MY! STARS!” she shouts, bouncing in her seat. “That is sooooo romantic!” she squeals, getting the attention of everypony clear down to the adult end of the table. “Daddy can find the ore, sissy can make it into metal, our dams can commission the band, and I can help with the gems! It’ll be perfect, Cure!”

If it was anypony but Ferric he would probably roll with it for laughs, but the filly doesn’t manage the collective attention of nearly forty ponies well, unsurprisingly. Diamond’s grin nearly matches the aqua menace’s, the extended family look like they’re ready to call for a toast, but the parents, both his and the friends’, along with the princess all seem to recognize Sapphire’s shit stirring for what it is.

Instead of watching it all play out, the colt lets out a long suffering sigh and rubs his brow with a fetlock before looking down the table and explaining, “That may be somewhat premature. I was just asking if Ferric was familiar with a metal called palladium. It’s good for jewelry like platinum,” he offers with a shrug. Diamond’s grin morphs into a pout, but the other parents all start chuckling.

“It’s not a useful metal,” Onyx offers, leaning forward to look down the table. “Tiny bits of it are usually found with platinum in a few mines up near Vanhoover, but it’s smelted out. I’m surprised you’ve even heard of the stuff.”

The parents and the princess quickly realize the colt is up to something. He looks between her and Onyx to ask, “So it doesn’t fall under the transmutation clause?”

“No. Only gold, silver, and platinum are illegal to transmute,” she hesitantly answers. << What are you up to, Cure? >> she silently Messages.

Without his horn visible he has to use his Sending crystal to respond. << Not much. It’s good for jewelry. You can alloy it with gold to get a silver-like metal. It should be extremely rare. >>

“Cool. If it’s found with platinum I bet it has similar properties,” he suggests. “It’ll just have to be another set of experiments, Red,” he assures the filly, grabbing her right hoof in his left. He gives her an encouraging smile and a TK squeeze then goes back to eating. Most of the table does the same, though Onyx and Diamond both have thoughtful looks.

“We sold most of the suits!” Glacial says in an attempt to change the subject.

“Mmhmm!” Drift eagerly hums. “All but three of the mare ones!”

“We still have a few of the dolls,” Coast adds. “A few dogs, a cat, and most of the pigs. The pigs didn’t sell as well as the others. The bears and bunnies sold quickly.”

“Aww, really?” Cure whines in disappointment. “The pigs are adorable!”

“Pigs are gross,” Rising argues, wrinkling her snout. “I told you they wouldn’t sell.”

“I thought they were cute,” he defends in a pout. “Oh well. Just mark ‘em down or give them away, I guess. How many total are left?”

“Seven,” Coast answers, “Four pigs, two dogs, one cat. Forty is probably a good price, though. They all sold but it took a few days. We marked up the ones in Mrs. Gem’s store by ten percent, but she got to keep that.”

“So y’all like thirteen hundred to share?” he asks for confirmation. Saph, Coast, Rising, and Heavy all nod. “What about you?” he asks the pegasi. “What’d you end up selling the suits for?”

The girls are sat almost across from each other, Drift on Sapphire’s left between her and Rising and Glacial to Dawn’s right beside Heavy. They share a guilty look and wince before the quiet gets too much and Glacial admits, “Four hundred.”

A beat passes as everypony waits for them to explain.

“I really hope you mean each ‘cause if you sold those for twenty a pop y’all got ripped off.”

“Each,” Drift confirms.

“Not all of them,” Dawn adds.

“Right,” Glacial nods. “A few wanted the color changed. We charged another fifty for that.”

“Nice! So like seven grand?” Both sheepishly nod. “Why do you look like you did something wrong?”

“That’s a lot of bits!” Glacial blurts out. “They worked just as hard and only made…” she pauses in thought for a second, “a fifth as much!”

Drift’s grimace doesn’t escape his notice. He shrugs helplessly and nods. “I work a few hours and make what some ponies do in a month or two. And all I’m doing is using my talent. I mean, there’s a lot to it, but the argument is the same.” He looks at the earth ponies and asks, “Do you all feel cheated by the fact that they made so much more?”

Heavy answers first, shaking his head no. “Dude, even split four ways, that’s like three hundred bits each! The most I’ve ever had before was when granddam gave me twenty at Hearth’s Warming!”

“It’s fine, Glacial,” Rising assures her. “They,” she waves between Ferric and Dawn, “didn’t really make any money at all.”

Dawn just shrugs and points out, “I make plenty with my enchanting.”

“Master Angle pays me extra for the metal I transmute. I also get a commission for the work I do.”

“Welcome to my world, ladies,” Cure calls with a smile. “If it makes you feel any better, I promise as long as we’re all friends none of ya will do without. A few grand here or there?” he asks, lazily waving his hoof dismissively and scoffing, “Please. You won’t even need to think about money. Coast,” he suddenly turns to her, jolting the filly to attention, “you like drawing right? Architecture, drafting, that kinda stuff?”

“Uhh… yeah?” she tentatively answers.

“I don’t expect blueprints, but if you’re up to it, I have an idea for a restaurant I think would do really well. I probably won’t try for a couple years, but if you’d be up for putting my ideas on paper I’ll pay you and reimburse you for any supplies.”

“Oh…kay? What kinda restaurant?”

“Something nopony’s ever tried before,” he answers with an excited grin. “I call it ‘Fast food!’ Ponies can walk up or fly down to a window, place their order, the cooks get started right away, they move to the next window to pay, and by the time they get to the third one the food’s there waiting for ‘em! It’s brilliant!” he crows, bouncing in his seat.

“What kinda food though?” Dawn asks. “Salads? Pasta? I would think that may take too long to cook.”

“No, no! I got that part planned out, but it’s also why it’ll take a few years to get ready. I’m going to make special plants just to supply the restaurant, see? I’ll need some farmland or maybe something offshore even. They’ll be sandwiches, fries, stuff that’ll only take a few minutes to cook up. I already got a name and everything!”

“You seem weirdly excited about this, dude.”

“I am! I’m going to introduce a whole new food type to the world, bro! It’ll just be the one ‘till I see how well it does, but there’ll be one in every town eventually, I bet.” He cocks his head in thought and finishes, “Probably a few in big cities, actually.”

“What’s the name?” Drift asks.

Cure reaches into his mane and pulls out an Illusion crystal. With a beaming grin he activates it, projecting an image of a pair of interlocking golden shoes, the bottom opening down and the top opening up. Another set to the right is stacked, open sides against the right of first two, one on top of the other with their curves facing right.

“Behold! The future of on-the-go dining, fillies and gentlecolts! I give you the one, the only, Hay Burger!”

Despite the slightly unsure looks from the foals, they at least acknowledged that a “fast food restaurant” is an interesting idea. Delta Coast seemed excited to draw up some sketches of Cure’s idea. The colt didn’t mention he could just print off whatever he thought would work on paper himself.

Getting usable diagrams wasn’t the point anyhow; his hope is that she’ll enjoy the exercise, get a little experience, maybe find a desire to go to school for the trade, and possibly end up with her cutie mark. Cure has a few ideas for Heavy and Dawn, but the former hasn’t really found his passion yet and the latter has only expressed an interest in being a hardflank battlemage.

Glacial is typically a fairly quiet member of the herd. She mentioned wanting to learn about being a weather pony once, but Cure has noticed a slight temperature drop once or twice when she was flapping her wings extra hard. He has some ideas to see if there's potential there, but is holding off for the time being. There's no particular rush since the filly doesn't seem overly concerned about it.

A human having even the slightest idea what they want to do with their life before twenty is a rarity. A pony still lacking their mark by that age may need to be put on suicide watch. According to Title, the stress and pressure that grows as time passes gets nearly unbearable. It’s not a situation he wants to see any of his friends go through.

Marks of Destiny and Cure’s future entrepreneurial endeavors aside, dinner was a real eye-opener for a number of the parents. Being told that a friend of their foal is about to be crowned a real Prince of Equestria is one thing. Being provided first class, guard-escorted transportation, then sitting down to dinner with Princess Celestia at the Royal Castle is completely different.

Despite the outlandishness of the claim, none of the parents seemed to strongly doubt their foal when told. After all, the viral trees they were present for the unveiling of were later credited to the new prince. That, along with the timing of the ascension lining up with their trip, was proof enough. Whipping out his horn and wings like he did for Crisp Script banished any lingering doubts.

It doesn’t escape Cure’s notice that when, and Vines’ response certainly made it seem like a when and not if, Deed knocks the mare up, he’ll effectively be in a sort-of relationship with a filly that has a sibling who is also his sibling, even if only half, biologically. For most purposes, ponies don’t differentiate between half and full siblings, or even step-siblings like Cherry and Lotus.

While bizarre to his human sensibilities, it’s actually not an uncommon situation in ponykind. When a highly desirable sire has several foals in a small community it’s nearly impossible for those colts and fillies, when older, to not have some part of their family tree bumping into itself somewhere along the lines.

It’s a concern that Sapphire and Ferric would both have given Onyx Mark’s success as a stud in Golden Hills and Baltimare. As far as society is concerned, as long as two ponies aren’t biologically related, a “we’re only technically related” relationship popping up every so often is somewhat of an inevitability.

He mentally equates it, in human terms, to the scenario where two children from the same family marry two children from a different family; i.e. an older brother dates an older sister, she brings the younger sister over, then the younger sister meets the younger brother and everything just kind of works out. It’s unusual, but neither is it unheard of, nor is it frowned upon.

Eager to show off his new room, Cure can barely keep his wings concealed despite his talent; an involuntary reaction that doesn’t go unnoticed by the ancient alicorn and amuses Rain, Snowstorm, and Thunder Dance to no end. Tailwind was unable to accompany his wife and two daughters, while Wind Shear ultimately decided to stay behind to attend Celebration parties with her coltfriend and their other friends.

Emerald, similarly, was unable to get off work at the hospital. With Solar already using leave to accompany them previously and Starlight busy with several work obligations, they were unable to attend this time. Sgt. Haze was initially under the impression he wouldn’t be able to join the group but Bulwark and Song stepped in to cover while he’s away.

Unable to contain his excitement, Cure leads everypony through the castle to the Royal Quarters, turning to talk over his withers about his first day in Cloudsdale.

“... so the camera pony has this idea for a great picture. I bet it made it to the papers in Baltimare a few days after.”

Title nods asking, “The one with all the newborns?”

“Yep! So they asked the hospital admin who then asked me if I would mind stickin around for a minute after I’m done for a photo op. I figure a little more positive PR couldn’t hurt, so I said sure.

“Well, they went around startin at about three and asked all the families there if they would mind stickin around ‘till I was done for the day. They were askin everypony in the lobby and telling ‘em to keep it quiet, so I had no idea. I guess a few wanted to take their foal home, but, ya know? Who can blame ‘em? Still, by the time I was done for the day there were like fifteen families waitin, right?”

“Looked like more ‘n fifteen foals, champ.”

“I know, pa, but the first few days in Cloudsdale were all high risk and multiple pregnancies and stuff, so several twins and a set of triplets. Anyhow, I’m thinkin I’m gonna be doin a couple quick meet’n’greet pictures for the administrators, but that’s not where they were takin me at all.”

“Sounds like they set you up,” Brick grumbles.

“Oh, come now!” Caramel scolds, brushing her side against her husband. “It’s an excellent picture and you know how important it is to have the public’s support.”

“Colt was probably wore out, grandma,” Lucky argues. “They could’a told ‘em what he was signin up for. Nopony likes surprises like that aftah a long day, feel me?”

Cure shrugs and agrees, “Yeah, I was a little tired, but since all this,” he lets the seam around his wings be visible for a split second, “I don’t really get tired like that as much. At least, nowhere near as fast.”

“Not only will using magic tire you less, but eventually you’ll find you can get by with a few hours of sleep quite easily,” Celestia explains. “During the relocation of the capital I would forgo sleep completely, sometimes for up to a week straight. I cannot say I recommend it, though,” she admits, snout scrunched at the memory. “It had some negative effects on my performance.”

Cure glances back at the princess, about to ask exactly what she means. He pauses only a fraction of a second, smiling internally when he sees her surrounded by all of the parents. His mind sometimes makes reflexive comparisons between creatures of this world and animals, but seeing them all surrounding the ‘alpha’ definitely twigs the image of a herd with its strongest member at the fore in the middle, protecting everypony around them.

It’s also heartwarming to see the princess’s subtly joyous expression. In general, nopony touches Princess Celestia. That’s not really a rule or anything, but most ponies simply don’t have the comfort level around their godqueen to risk offense by accidentally brushing against her. Aside from Prince Blueblood, he has not seen any adult pony come in physical contact with her of their own volition; not even a single time.

For what may be the first time in who-knows-how-long, she is surrounded on all sides and getting the physical interaction that many ponies get every day. Vines, Deed, and Amethyst are on her left side with his dam occasionally brushing right up against her. Title, carrying Savvy, and Lemon are on her right, not even a hoof of space between them. Behind them, allowing just enough room for the princess’s flowing tail, are all of his friends’ parents, his grandparents, and Lucky’s family.

Cure then notices that, just like the princess, he, too, is surrounded by the other foals. Lotus is on his back, Cherry and the pegasi are on his right, Dawn and Rising are on his left. Sapphire, Ferric, Coast, and Heavy, carrying Summer and Fall, are behind him.

The princess must have caught onto his look; she offers him a small smile as he asks, “Did the sun come up late a few days?”

“No, not late, but the act of raising it was far more draining. There were also a few complaints about the weather not being as warm as some ponies would have liked. Regardless, I quite enjoy my sleep, so I do not skip out on it unless there’s a very good reason.”

“That and it’s probably the only time everypony leaves you alone,” Title comments.

“There is that too,” she agrees.

“Huh. Well, anyhow,” Cure says, picking his story back up, “they lead me over to the nursery where some of the nurses had finished gettin all the foals all cleaned up and ready. At first they were gonna just have me pose behind ‘em or whatever, but then I was like, ‘They’re light enough I can hold a few on each,’” he looks meaningfully towards the younger foals, “ya know… on my dorsal appendages. Well the camera ponies just about exploded right on the spot, so I laid on my barrel with them level, then they just started arranging newborns on and all around me.

“Next thing I know I’ve got five on each… uh… limb, another five under, then they stuck a few on my back, between my forelegs, that one on my forehead… yeah, just newborns all over me. I figured some would start cryin or whatnot, but they’d all been fed and were ready for naptime. Stick a warm body next to ‘em, ya know?”

“It was adorable!” Dawn gushes, nuzzling against his neck.

“It was the most precious thing I’ve ever seen!” Vines coos. “Do you get a copy of the picture itself? The one in the paper… well, you know.”

“A little grainy, right,” he says in understanding. “Yeah, somepony,” he glances back to the smugly smiling alicorn, “had them send copies to the PR team here. Plus I could always just make a copy. With much better color, by the way.” He trots a few paces ahead of the group and nods to the guards standing beside his door. “Alright, everypony, here we are! Check this out!” he says, opening the door and darting in.

Celestia waves everypony on ahead of her and, instead, watches through the tall door. The foals run in first with his parents just behind. What they find halts them in their tracks, nearly causing a pileup at the doorway before they proceed in.

“It’s bigger’n our old house,” Deed quietly comments, strolling into the main living room area. The stallion can only assume the suite takes up two normal floors, though there’s not a second level to the huge room. A few clouds are floating about, the sight not something he’s accustomed to, but the pegasi are quick to hop up for a better vantage point.

He’s been in a few really nice homes, and the stay in the castle last time boggled the mind. The term “spared no expense” is normally used metaphorically, but Deed reckons the princess took that as some kind of challenge.

The floor is not something the stallion even recognizes; he can only guess it’s some kind of fancy stone tile merged to be a solid piece with magic, but the light green, blueish pattern reminds him of the fancy pictures of the ocean down in the gulf of New Horseleans.

The entire far wall of the room is near-seamless glass from north to south, only broken up by a door leading to the balcony with a damned impressive view of the city over the castle’s outer walls. Most of what’s visible are rooftops and a few taller government buildings, but to the north the peak of the Canterhorn climbs up into the sky. It must be breathtaking in the morning, Deed reckons.

Of course the view inside the room isn’t any less amazing; the clear indicator that this room belongs to Cure is right in the dead center. A strange, yet beautiful tree sits right in the middle inside of a large, stone planter, which itself is sat in the middle of a fountain. Arcs of water bounce all around the outside of the planter, never splashing onto the floor or in the soil.

To the right of the entrance is what looks to be a workspace for when the colt’s attending school next year. A slightly oversized desk for him to grow into, some bookshelves, and plush cushion are ready for him and a downright fancy lamp on some kind of swivel is mounted overhead on the wall.

Further down is a large free-standing pantry that the colt’s quick to open up, revealing a small fridge, a water cooler of some sort, and shelves with runic patterns like the grocer has, laden with snacks of all kinds. Apparently somepony knows how much the colt can put away, and the serving staff are probably grateful not to have to make a hundred trips a day to restock it.

A coffee maker like his unit at home is sitting on a small counter beside the pantry with a small sink nearby. Even royals generate trash, and the colt chuckles when he opens the cabinet. “And here we have the royal trash can!” he proclaims in a haughty tone. “Gaze upon mine standard, store-bought wares and know that I, too, am a commoner at heart, just as thineselves!” The mundanity of it contrasts everything else and gets some quiet laughs from the group.

A couple steps lead up to a small, but richly carved table sitting on the elevated landing by the windows. It’s perfect for four or, if tightly packed in, six ponies to share a meal, and strikes Deed as a great spot to sit and enjoy the sunrise while eating breakfast.

Just as Deed considers how blinding that could be, Cure skips over to wall behind the table and explains, “... and something I didn’t even know was possible,” he slides a switch down and the windows gain a dark tint, “you can darken the windows, either individually or all at once!” he proclaims. The display gets impressed murmurs from the group. “They’re almost impossible to see through from the other side, something I’m sure a few passing pegasi found amusing watching as I was runnin in ‘n out while investigatin.”

Closer to the entrance and to the left is a luxurious seating area, large enough to accommodate at least a dozen ponies even without piling on each other. Lighting for the room, aside from the windows, is provided by an array of wall sconces, the bottom of which glow in soft yellows. The white walls, light flooring, and expansive windowing ensure that the room is brightly lit. Decorative glass planters are also scattered about the wall in a high-to-low zig-zag pattern around the room, each one growing some kind of fancy flower or fragrant herb.

On the other side of the seating area about two meters off the western wall is a door that must lead to the colt’s bedroom and the bathroom. Deed follows behind the foals as Cure ushers them in, showing off a bed that he, all his friends, and a good portion of the group could likely pile into comfortably.

The “herd” sized beds are popular with some well-to-do earth ponies in Baltimare, but the stallion hadn’t ever seen one in pony before. It sits low to the ground, though the thickness of the mattress means the foals will still need to hop up a good bit to climb on it.

A deep green carpet covers the room and is so plush and soft, Deed is pretty sure he could sleep just fine, bed or no. The headboard itself is a work of art; spanning the entire width of the bed, it depicts a beautiful forest scene carved in dark wood. A three hoof width strip of padding sits below the scene itself, raising it up above the mattress; a common practice for unicorns, and apparently alicorns, to prevent accidental horn-inflicted damage in the night.

The colt’s barely stopped for air the whole time he’s been showing everypony around. “I have a full closet through that door,” he nods to a door set against the wall to the left of his enormous bed, “for my fancy shoes or whatever clothes I keep. I don’t really need it, but ya know, whatever. Look in here, though,” he shouts, waving his hoof to the door to the right of his bed.

His friends all happily follow him as the rest of the parents and other families explore the main room and bedroom. He swings the bathroom door open and prances in, activating the lights in the ceiling.

Deed lets out a low whistle when he sees the size of it. Just as deep as the bedroom, the bathroom is, from floor to ceiling, covered in elegant light gray slate tiles fused together with magic. The floor is slightly darker, and the texture is somewhat coarse to prevent slipping. A long, rectangular drain splits the room in half length-wise and a vent is affixed into the ceiling.

“The whole room is a big ‘ol shower, bath tub, basically,” he explains, motioning to the large, square tub that takes up the right half of the room. “There’s the fancy shower station there,” he nods to the left wall where a stall large enough for two has a half dozen heads between the walls and ceiling, “a big ‘ol tub with Sterilize and Heating and enchantments. There’s a magic-powered pump that circulates the water, too, which I’ve been takin advantage of every night.

“The actual potty is through that door,” he finishes, waving to a door on the far wall. “The tub’s deeper in the middle, but we’re tall enough to stand along the lip. Dunno how; it must go into the subfloor or whatever. I have no idea what’s below my room or how thick the floors are, but I’m guessin ‘thick.’

“The princess assured me we can make it bigger when I grow up, assumin I’m still crashin here on occasion. Shape Stone works on the tiles, so eliminating the shallow lip aught’a be easy enough with the help of a plumber. Of course it’s probably big enough for at least six adults right now, so it’ll do until I build my own place eventually.

“Right there by the mirror is a mane dryer and a bunch of gunk I don’t really need at all,” he says, motioning to the counter directly to his right with a variety of mane, coat, feather, and hoof care products. A tall bench is sat in front of it so he can hop up and be fully in front of the mirror.

“This place is awesome, dude. Are we allowed to… ya know?” Heavy asks, tilting his head towards the bedroom door. The fillies don’t hesitate to start poking around and checking the room and his bedroom out in earnest. Deed holds back a snort when Drift switches on the mane dryer. The blast of hot air in her face startles her, causing her to jump back with a yelp. Glacial rolls her eyes and flips the unit back off.

“Tomorrow while the ‘rents are out partying,” he confirms with a nod. “Gotta get some snuggle time in with my fam first though. I haven’t seen ‘em in almost two weeks.” That gets a nod of approval from the stallion. The colt’s lucky he’s not already pinned below his dam getting forcibly groomed.

“Nah, I get it dude,” the gray colt assures him. “My dam was the same way last time, and that was only a few days. Of course, there was the whole foalnapping thing.”

“Right. So yeah, assumin yer parents don’t mind ya sleepin here while yer in town. Your sisters, too, if you’re okay with that. Mine’ll be here. Mi casa es tu casa and all that.” The switch to Spanish gets confused looks, but he explains with an eye roll, “My house is your house.

“It means y’all are welcome here as long as I’m around. Yer all already on the approved list with the guards and everything. Just don’t go tryin ta sneak into the boss’s room. Dunno why, but apparently she’s a lil paranoid about foals doin that lately.”

“Hmm… wonder why,” Glacial idly remarks.

With an innocent look, Cure shrugs. “Dunno. I can tell you that if somepony kept sneakin in my room for surprise snuggles and was bringin me treats all’a the time I think I’d welcome ‘em instead ‘a bein a grouchy old fuddy duddy about it.”

An “I heard that!” reaches their ears from the entry room.

“And I’ll note ya didn’t deny it,” he sasses back at the open doorway.

A loud splash startles everypony as they whip around to find Sapphire surfacing in the tub. The aqua filly doggy paddles over to the shallower area closer to the front. She drapes her forelegs and neck over the edge and lets out a contented sigh, apparently lost in her own little world. Cure gives her a genuinely confused look and walks over, tapping a crystal on the lip of the tub. The water starts heating up and cycling, eliciting a pleased coo from the filly.

“It would probably feel better if the water was actually hot, ya know?”

“Mmhmm! Thanks, beautiful,” she says, deftly striking out to wrap her hooves around his neck to try pulling him in. Cure, knowing how nutty the girl can be, had prepared for exactly that. Firmly rooted to the ground, he smirks victoriously at her.

“Nice try, Saph,” he taunts. She gives him a pout for a second, then reaches out and gives him a big, wet lick right across his lips. Deed barks out a laugh when, caught completely off guard, Cure is yanked right off his hooves and into the tub, landing on top of the filly in a splash of flailing legs and wings as she falls back into the deeper water.

Ferric’s hoof shoots up to her face as Dawn squawks in outrage. Everypony else starts cracking up at the wet dog scowl Cure gives the laughing girl when he resurfaces. Upon hearing the commotion, several other parents’ heads poke around the doorframe to check on the group. “Everypony okay in here?” Lemon asks, quickly piecing together roughly what happened.

“They’re fine, babe,” Deed assures her.

Drift grins mischievously and points a wing at the pair. “Cure and Saph were makin out so hard they fell in the tub. There was tongue and everything! He even has a wingie!”

“Be sure you take re-spon-si-bil-ity!” is sung out from somewhere behind the yellow mare, followed by the filly’s sire offering his thanks to the maker.

Cure lets out another sigh, leaning against the edge. “Well… it wasn’t quite what I planned, but if y’all want a soak before bed,” he waves a wing over the tub, “there’s plenty of room and the water’s… eh, it’ll be nicer in a couple minutes.”

“How was the train car?”

“It was fine, sweetie. The marquis didn’t do anything.”

Cure nods in acceptance, letting out a relieved sigh. “Good. I’m not really sure what I could do if he’d done something anyhow. That may be the worst part of all this,” he says as he vaguely waves around with his free wing.

After everypony got a tour of his room they spent a while hanging out on the balcony and looking over the city. Eventually everypony said their farewells for the evening and left the family to themselves.

Aware that he won’t exactly be “the baby” any longer, Cure takes the opportunity to snuggle between his dam’s forelegs, his snout nuzzled against her chin. All three girls are out cold, each one between their dams’ forelegs as they sit side-by-side in front of them. Deed is half spooning his first wife facing the other direction while using her right haunch as a pillow.

“I can’t really take direct action against anypony. Not that there’s a lot I could have done before anyhow,” he grumbles.

“Let it go, champ. He ain’t done nothin ‘cept made an offhoof comment.”

“The car we had was nice,” Lemon adds in agreement. “Same kind we had last time, but with just the eight of us it was a lot quieter.”

“Boring, you mean,” Title amends.

“Boring is good,” he argues.

“Better’n last time,” Deed easily agrees, “y’all slept through it, babe. In spite’a the colt’s confidence I didn’t know if we were gonna survive ‘till I saw them minotaurs keelin over. Not that I didn’t have faith in ya, son, but ya never know ‘till ya know, ya know?”

“I get it, pa. If I’d known it would be as easy as it was I wouldn’t have been as worried either. And just a heads up, Merryland’s apparently not the only one with doubts. Celestia said several nobles are under the impression that I’m, in her words, a pretender with a powerful talent that’s being inserted above them to weaken their positions.”

He gives a helpless shrug and continues, “I may have killed that argument already. I’ve had to go a bit beyond normal healing a few times, so if there’s any noble spies in the hospitals then they may second guess their stance.”

“What did you do?” Vines asks. Her tone is one of curiosity, but the hint of worry creeps in regardless.

Ears pinning of their own volition, Cure scrunches his snout and answers, “I saved eleven stillborn foals. Two separate twins, then nine others. Three pegasus fillies, a pegasus colt, a unicorn and bat of each sex, two hippogriff fillies, and a griffon cub. Every newborn in both cities was born alive and I healed the few that had identified health issues. I foresee a fight to have me on-site in other cities in the future.”

“Fuck me sideways, Cure,” Amethyst quietly exclaims. Vines gives her a weak glare at the language. “Ya don’t do nothin by half measures, do ya?”

Lemon blows out a low whistle. “I’m surprised that hasn’t been in the news yet.”

“The princess is letting it leak tomorrow. The latter part, that is, not that the foals were technically deceased before I got to ‘em. She wants it to be in the papers on the day of my coronation for the special editions. The rest is confidential. She told me earlier that, if anything, the foals are better than average, magically, I mean. Even the griffs, apparently. I didn’t have time to get the full details; she just told me when I was walking with her after I got back.”

“Should I get Savvy checked?”

“I mean, I wasn’t an alicorn at the time. Couldn’t hurt, though.”

“True…”

“Are you okay, sweetie?” Vines squeezes her son a little tighter.

“Yeah, I guess,” he weakly says, shrugging against her. “The only other option was to let almost a dozen foals die. Stay dead. Whatever. I don’t need to point out how hard that would be on a family. As long as we’re not going to have a zombie apocalypse we should be fine.” A worried look crosses the features of three mares he can see. “Celestia is having them monitored. Like I said, so far the only difference is that they have slightly more magic, apparently.”

“Huh.” Deed makes the only thoughtful utterance, but everypony else is clearly pondering on the situation as well.

“Also, I read her in on almost everything. I’m sure I forgot a few tidbits here and there, but she knows basically everything now. Turns out you weren’t quite spot on about hippogriffs, pa.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, see, they can have foals of any kind, depending…” The five sit and listen as Cure gives them the same run-down he’d gotten from the princess. “... and is, uncreatively, named Hippogriffia. I guess we can’t really cast stones in that department, but still. We’ve apparently fallen out of touch with them for the last few centuries ‘cause they didn’t appreciate some liaison playin hide the salami with their prince.”

“I think I know what ya mean,” Lemon starts, “but what’s salami?”

Cure snorts and starts laughing, then twists his head enough to extend his horn without poking his dam. He projects an image of a log of salami for the parents who take a moment to process what they’re seeing before bursting out laughing themselves. Even his dam, despite her efforts, shakes against his back lightly with a giggle. “I think it was made of pig, usually. It’s good when cut into thin slices. Too much salt in it for much more at a time. A Griffon restaurant I tried has something like it.

“Honestly, between the beak, the tongue spines, the talons, and the anatomy back there, I’m just not seein the attraction,” he continues. “I mean, I guess in a way they’re kinda pretty looking, what with the feathers and the slim builds they have, but… ugh… how would that even work?” He can’t even stop his snout from wrinkling in disgust. “Whatever, to each their own, I guess. I shouldn’t judge.”

“Anatomy?” Title questions. “Are hippogriff stallions’ weiners different?”

Deed and Amethyst crack up while Lemon gently explains, “I don’t think that’s the ‘back there’ he meant, T.”

The pink mare furrows her brow in thought as everypony but Vines chuckles. Her face gets a sudden, horrified look before she winces and does a full-body shudder. “EEW! Why would anypony?!” she trails off in question.

“No clue, ma. Human anatomy isn’t the same. It is physically… uhh different, I guess, for them, but even still Ed and Cyndi only tried a couple times. It was an evening ender once and just not very fun the other. There’s a much better spot for that just a half hoof away anyhow.”

He gets a hard squeeze from his dam, scolding him with a soft, “Don’t be crass.” He rolls his eyes, retracts his horn, and snuggles back into her neck.

“So anyhow,” he continues, “not everything is totally off and the boss lady is aware of everything. We talked for a while. Now that I’m an alicorn I need to be much more careful about what I say, even when we’re back home. Apparently I have more metaphysical ‘weight,’ or I will in a few years, so until I can use her privacy spell no more of those conversations.”

“That sucks,” Title complains.

“Makes sense, though,” Amethyst agrees. “What’s the story with that golfin thing ya went on about?” Lemon gives her first wife a questioning look since she wasn’t in the room at the time, so Amethyst gives her a quick rundown.

“There were places like that. They were total money farms. Grandpa has the legal know-how and the means to make it happen. I figure tossing him an idea like that couldn’t hurt, and he at least seemed interested. Speaking of finances, though, I’m basically tax exempt for life after this quarter. I made a few changes to the Origin and Blood trees and the National Health Authority approved them both for use. I got word that the first round of crops the boss swiped got approved too.”

“Good job, Cure!” Title cheers. “How’s that going to work with your tax pony and the two identity thing?”

“Dunno. I’m guessing they’ll get a letter saying the what but not the why. Even Audit may be in the know anyhow; I did briefly mention my trees when we met that first time.”

“Oh yeah. Eh, I’m sure she didn’t catch that. You kinda left her a little frazzled anyhow. No taxes, though? That’s awesome.”

“Yep, it’s a thirty-five, forty percent raise,” he readily agrees. “Anything happening at home while I’ve been gone?”

“Not much,” Lemon answers, “just some rowdiness down at the pub last week.”

Deed snorts behind Cure and his dam before speaking up. “A few farmer mares got inta a scuffle, that’s all. Arguing ‘bout a stallion or whatnot ‘till they got too far inta their cups and got tossed inta the street. Sgt. Song showed up ta separate ‘em ‘n the big one got lippy with the ‘lil bat mare what thinks she’s somethin.’” Cure winces at the expected result of that. “She shot one with a Stun ‘n had tha other on her back in cuffs ‘fore she knew what was what.”

“Sounds like ‘bout what I’d expect,” he chuckles.

“How was the flight here, honey?” Vines asks with a squeeze. “The messenger came by much earlier than we expected.”

“It was awesome! I mean… flying always is, but being able to just cut loose? Words escape me, dam. The guards that were with me just about begged me to let ‘em join me whenever I go on long flights. I think they’re almost as eager for the flight back as they are for tomorrow night.”

“That’s something I wanted to talk to you about,” Title hesitantly starts. “I’ve been thinking about it even before she was born. We,” she motions between herself and his sire, “have talked it over a few times. While she’s young enough not to remember… would you be willing to give Savvy wings?”

To Title’s relief, Cure instantly agrees. “Sure. When we get home I’ll start converting her cells and grow ‘em out. Or just transplant some of my plant material. The only ponies that’ll know are already in the know with all this, so why not?”

“The princess,” Amethyst answers. “She said ta keep that kinda stuff under wraps.”

Cure dismisses the suggestion with a flick of his wing. “She asked us to keep quiet about it. We still will be. Everypony else will just assume she had wings under her onesie all along. When she’s older either this’ll all be public or anypony that sees Earth Pony on her records will write it off as an error.”

He nuzzles up against his dam and adds, “I also need to undo some of your more noticeable changes like the spinnerets and horn for when you give birth. Nothing else overly strange should show up on the scan, and I think we want to avoid answering a bunch of questions about any weirdness.”

“That’s fine, honey,” she easily agrees. Looking between her husband and wife, she adds, “Savvy will be as tall as the rest of us, you do realize? They’ll probably think she has mixed blood.”

“That could explain why she won’t have pegasus magic too,” Title agrees. “Sounds good to me.”

“If you want,” he suggests, “we could do the same for the twins right now and their birth certificates will indicate both tribes. They’ll develop the instincts for flying naturally as they grow up.” He pauses to look at the two. “I could probably have the records changed later if you’re not sure right now. Thoughts?”

“I… don’t know,” she admits, clearly torn on the subject. “Sweetie?” she calls, turning to look at his sire. “We didn’t talk about doing that for the twins.”

“I say do it,” Deed instantly suggests. “All’a the same points apply, babe. They’ll be ours either way.”

“Even if they only rarely fly it’ll be good for them,” Cure argues. “After spending two weeks in the capital I can’t imagine getting around without mine. Carriages suck and walking on the crowded streets can be a pain. I’ve scanned hundreds of pegasus foals in utero, so I know exactly what to do.”

Cure hates pressuring his dam about this, but the idea of not giving his siblings wings when there’s no reason they can’t have them just seems dumb. They’ll still have all of the advantages an earth pony has, they’ll just also be able to fly. He can feel her worrying her hooves as she thinks it over, pretty sure he already knows her answer.

“No. If they want that when they’re older, that’s fine. I don’t want to do something like that before they’re able to choose, especially before they’re even born.”

Cure waits a second to see if his sire speaks up, but silence is his only answer. “Okay. Well if you’re still planning on having them tomorrow the princess said the castle physician will be ready in the morning before I head back out.”

“Sure are, champ.”

“I’m ready, sweetheart. I hope you’re not upset, having them before…” she trails off at his eye roll.

“Not the slightest bit. Don’t be ridiculous. It just sucks that I’ll hafta bail on ya right afterwards.” Shrugging, he adds, “Nature of the job, I guess. Are you planning on going out to party tomorrow night?”

Lemon, Title, and Amethyst look with pleading eyes while nodding in anticipation. The green mare looks at her wives unsure, worrying her lip in consideration. “I don’t know,” she hesitates.

“The foal’s have literally the best care in the world here, dam. I can even watch ‘em and feed them with my plants if it’ll make ya feel better.”

“It’ll be their first night, though,” she protests.

“They’re in a castle, V, with royal nursemaids and your son watchin over ‘em. The Celebration won’t be here again for decades an’ this’n’ll be crazy ‘cause’a the colt,” Amethyst argues, motioning to Cure.

Lemon enthusiastically agrees, adding her thoughts to the discussion. “It’ll be the biggest, wildest party the city will see for a long time, right?” she asks, reaching out to poke his wing.

“Right. Nothing I do should have any impact. I hope.” He doesn’t say anything more due to the concerns about discussing future events.

“We’re going, babe,” Deed confirms with finality to the excited cheers of the other three. “The princess said she could have a squad followin us ‘n keeping a discreet eye out if we wanted ta. Thunder Dance, Snowstorm Burst, and my granddam will still be here.”

Vines releases a deep sigh, nodding in acceptance. “Fine. I suppose it would be a shame to miss out on it.” She nuzzles into Cure’s mane between his ears. “Keep an eye on them for me?”

“You bet. Hey, how would you all feel about takin the boss lady with ya when you go out? In disguise,” he quickly adds. “You see how ponies treat her. Hell, you see how you treat her. She needs some good, healthy, normal socializing.”

Title and Lemon both light up at the suggestion, but Amethyst, Deed, and Vines seem unsure.

“You think she’d want ta, colt? That just seems…”

“Odd,” Vines volunteers. “I can’t picture her highness going out and drinking or dancing with us.”

“I’m more worried bout her being… ya know,” Amethyst says, rolling her hoof leadingly.

“A stick in the mud?” Cure guesses.

The dark mare points, “Bingo. Does she even like to go out?”

“I’d think she’d be a lil… judgy?” Deed pauses to lean back in thought before shrugging, “Dunno, I guess that works.”

“First off,” Cure answers, “I’m pretty sure she would like to, but remember the whole ‘martyr complex’ thing? The problem is getting her to let herself have fun. Get a drink or two in her and I bet she’d loosen right up. I keep telling everypony; she’s basically just like everypony else. Just kinda socially isolated and maybe a little attention starved. At least, casual social attention starved.”

“Are you three nuts?!” Lemon asks in a raised voice. “I bet she has awesome stories and stuff! She would be a riot if she opened up a little.”

“Besides,” Title adds, “Cure’s right. Does she even have actual friends?”

“I think she has some ponies she considers friends, but I’d call them professional acquaintances or perhaps confidants. I haven’t seen anypony so far that I can imagine her just going out to hang out with and get drunk or whatever.”

“Can she?” Title asks. “Get drunk, I mean?”

“Sure. Our brains work the same. A tad faster and I’ve noticed my memory is better, though. That’s probably a necessity with a longer life. It may take a lot more due to her mass and metabolism, but we can get drunk. How about I go ask her if she’d be interested?”

“Think she’d more likely agree if it was you asking?” Title guesses.

“Much,” he agrees with a nod. “Be right back.” He stands up, nuzzles his dam again, then hops and glides to the door. After exiting his room he gives a quick greeting to the guards and knocks on the princess’s door.

A muffled “Enter” prompts the guard to open the door for him.

“Yo, boss lady,” he greets as the door shuts behind him. Celestia is laid on her bed reading, still wearing her regalia and crown since she has not yet lowered the sun.

“Good evening, Cure. Is something wrong?”

“Nope, all’s well.” The colt trots into the room up to her bed and rests his chin on the mattress, barely tall enough to reach without rearing up. “You got plans for tomorrow, boss?”

“Plans? You mean for the evening?”

“Mmhmm, or later. Got some snooty event ya gotta make an appearance at or anything?”

She sets her book aside, noting the page and closing it. “I’ve been invited to a few social gatherings, but I wasn’t planning on going anywhere. Why? Surely you and your friends will be in well before nightfall.”

“We will, but the folks are gonna hit the town. And yer goin with ‘em.”

“Pardon?”

“I’m assuming you can do a unicorn disguise easily enough, right?”

“Of course, but -”

“But nothin, boss. You don’t go out and have fun often enough. You’re gonna go out, have a drink or two, and shake yer rear on the dance floor.”

“Shake my rear?” she scoffs.

“What? Too dignified ta dance, princess?” he asks, smirking up at her. “How about Sunny Skies? Is she too ‘royal’ also? What about Sol Gloria? Does she know how to tango?”

Celestia shakes her head. “Sol Gloria? Not even close. Regardless,” she continues, staring down at the impetuous colt, “while I enjoy spending time with my little ponies, I do not go out and ‘shake my rear’ while doing so.”

“Why not?” The genuinely curious tone leaves the eldritch mare off balance. “Seriously, is there any reason at all why you couldn’t? The only ponies that would know would be my parents. The other foals’ parents don’t need to. Pretend to be a member of the serving staff they met today and go join them for a night of fun. I promise your throne will still be there the next morning.”

“But there’s so much to do and with the coronation…”

He gives her an incredulous look. “You’re trying to say there’s something that needs taken care of for Saturday morning that hasn’t already been addressed and you’re going to be working on it on Friday night?! Really, princess?”

“It never hurts to double, or quadruple, check that everything is in place,” she weakly argues.

Cure scoots his head further into the mattress, looking up at the princess with big, puppy dog eyes. He activates his tear ducts for the watery look and droops ears as he begs, “Pweeeeeze, pwincess? Just go be a normal pony and have fun? For me? You can leave if you hate it. It’ll be good for ya.”

She lets out a deep sigh, rolling the idea around in her head while doing her best not to look at the little terror. After nearly a minute of deliberating, she finally acquiesces to his request. “Very well. I suppose I can join them. It has been a while since I’ve gone out, and it would be nice to have company while doing so.”

“Awesome!” he excitedly cheers, releasing her from his vicious mind control attack. As he’s walking back to the door he calls over his withers, “I’ll have ‘em pick ya up at yer place ‘round sunset?”

Chuckling, the princess nods in acceptance. “That does seem more convenient than theirs. Goodnight, Cure.”

“Goodnight, princess. Bed. Bugs. Etcetera,” he calls, zipping out the door.

Author's Note

As I've been saying for the last month or so, the story will officially be on hiatus for the next three weeks. That ominous "big life change" did go through, so the next 5ish weeks are gonna suuuuuuuck.

I don't anticipate it gravely effecting my posting schedule, but I'm also not going to make any promises that it won't. If it does then I will at least let everyone know when I post 79 on 9/18.

I'm sure everyone kind of saw the whole "Hay Burger" thing coming from Cure's comments over the last two chapters. Well... yeah. The first hint of this was clear back Chapter 16. The driving range idea was much more spontaneous, but... well, it was just too good to pass up. Frankly, it sounds like a hell of a lot of fun to me, so I'm sure Cure wouldn't pass the opportunity to introduce a fun new take on, IMHO, a relatively boring sport.

There's a big victory for Cure there at the end. It's taken a couple weeks of treating the boss lady like a real live pony, but it looks like she might be finally willing to live a little instead of just existing. Now if only he could trick her into accepting a massage and falling asleep in a big cuddle pile of foals...

Oh well, maybe some day. As always, thanks for reading and, especially, for commenting / rating / etc. I hope everyone has a good few weeks. See ya in about a month, everyone!