“So you do see my concerns here, then?”
Rarity glared at Blueblood from the steps to his manor door, holding one of this morning’s tabloids open to a photograph in her aura.
“A tea gown? To a dinner at one of the most prestigious restaurants in Canterlot? I have a reputation to maintain, you know!”
“And just how would this photograph besmirch that, exactly?”
“What do you mean? She looks exactly like me!” She pushed the photograph closer. “The mane? The eyeshadow? Do you know how many years I spent perfecting a look that is at once so unique and iconic?”
“Yes, and you’re a trend-setter. Shouldn’t you be flattered?” He peered dismissively at the photograph. “Plenty of white-coated unicorns with purple manes about. No idea why the tabloids assumed this was you.“
“Perhaps because, whoever this mare was, she kept announcing that she was Rarity about every other sentence? That was how the article described it verbatim!”
“Well, maybe she was announcing that her name was ‘Rority’.and the onlookers simply misheard.”
“What?” Rarity blinked. ”That’s trademark infringement!”
“Having a name similar to yours is trademark infringement?”
“I don’t know! It’s something! I mean. You can’t just both look exactly like another pony while also having nearly the same name. What kind of world do we live in? Honestly!”
Blueblood shook his head.
“I don't see what you're so worked up about. I could see the resemblance, sure. But she sounded and acted nothing like you.”
“Well, of course. I don’t loudly announce my name every other sentence, stammer for two minutes straight when presented with a menu, or stare at waiters for far too long when talking to them. I know exactly how long to maintain eye contact! Three to five seconds, varying the length for emphasis, before briefly looking away and back again.” Rarity demonstrated. “I’ve been practicing since I was a filly!”
“Yes. So I’m not sure what the problem is, my dear.”
“Look, could I just meet whoever this ‘Rority’ is? It would give me some peace of mind to see that she is who you say. And perhaps the next time you two go out, I could arrange to also be there separately? Just so Canterlot knows that we are two distinct ponies?”
“Ah, I’m afraid that will not be happening. Rority travelled quite a long way from her home country to be here, and she will not be seen within these walls again.“
Rarity stared at him for exactly five seconds before briefly looking away.
“I see. So you mean to say that she came all the way here from a faraway land just to dine with you, and you will never see her again?“
Blueblood nodded theatrically.
“Well, I wish I could say that I was surprised by this.” Rarity sighed the appropriate amount and length to indicate slight frustration in polite conversation. “But I suppose there is nothing more to be done with this matter, in that case. So, thank you for your grace in this unfortunately unannounced morning call. I will be taking leave of you now.”
“Oh it was a pleasure, dear Rarity,” Blueblood said, as smugly as he could. Though as Rarity turned toward the path back to the street, he could not resist.
“But are you sure that it’s the tea gowns and eye contact that had gotten you all worked up? And not being seen about town with me?“
Rarity gave him a look that would be called “withering” if that wouldn't imply something incompatible with the cold indifference in her eyes.
“Not everything centers around you, you know.”
Blueblood set his jaw as she walked away, resolving to forget all that as soon as he could as he went back inside.
In the foyer, standing at the exact same rigid parade formation this entire time, was the jet-black form of Pharynx.
“Rarity? Of all ponies? Really?”
“Well, sir. You did say to take the guise of a pony suitable for the occasion. I simply executed those mission parameters as best I could.“
Blueblood sighed an amount and length that would be inappropriate for polite conversations, but fitting for expressing displeasure to a subordinate, at least according to Blueblood.
“Did you enjoy the meal at least?”
“Honestly, sir, I did not quite understand it. They hardly served enough to cover even a light duty. Food is food and should be eaten, not turned into art.”
“Yes, yes, you would think that…” Blueblood rubbed his hoof against his jaw. “Well, that was what the experience was meant to educate you on. But I suppose nothing that can be learned in just one lesson is worth learning. We’ll have to do this again tonight.”
“I presume not as Rarity again, sir?”
“It's very tempting, but certainly not.“ He smirked. “If ‘Rority’ truly were to never appear again, why, that would just be maddening for her, wouldn’t it? Perfect. But then… What to do?”
Blueblood stared at Pharynx in silence for far longer than five seconds.
“If I may be so bold, sir? I could simply go with you as myself.”
Blueblood, for his own amusement, briefly entertained this ridiculous notion. Could he imagine? Being seen sitting across a candlelit table from that thing? Kissing that hard beak he called lips? In public? In front of everyone?
“Sir? Is everything alright? You appear to be blushing.”
Blueblood’s eyes widened. “Yes, well, I–” He coughed. “I mean, no. I do not think that would be appropriate, I’m afraid.“
He searched for a reaction to that on Pharynx’s face, almost disappointed he could not discern disappointment. A pang of guilt.
“I mean, that doesn’t make me terrible, does it?“
“It does, sir,” Pharynx stated flatly. “But you would not be you without it.”
Blueblood smiled at that.
“Yes, of course. And one must always be themselves, at the end of things, shouldn't they?”
An idea came to him. The smile turned into a devilish one.
“So. How good is your Princess Cadance?”
