Pipp Petals was furious.
For years, she had been the perfect daughter. Done exactly what Mother had asked of her, perfected her image, and danced around like a puppet on strings, all for the benefit of the royal family.
She had been hinting to her mother about eventually becoming Queen since she was eight years old. Meanwhile, Zipp had taken every opportunity to shirk her duties, sneak off to who-knows-where, and generally make it clear that she didn’t care about the royal line at all.
It had seemed obvious whom Queen Haven would name as her successor. Even though Zipp was almost two years older, the choice was clear.
Pipp slammed the door to her room behind her, grabbed her wardrobe with both hooves, and shoved it over, spilling makeup and brushes everywhere. Then she flopped onto her bed, grabbed her pillow, and screamed into it as loud as she could.
Zipp had been named heir to the throne. She’d only come of age two weeks ago, and Mother had wasted no time at all. And now it was official, and every pegasus in Zephyr Heights knew it, and nopony could take it back.
There was only one way that the throne would fall to her. One tried and tested method, well-utilized by every royal family in every story she’d ever heard.
Pipp knew what she had to do. She had to kill her sister.
Pipp had an ingenious plan. Zipp was an easy target, because when she did stupid stunts, she hid them. She would sneak off on her own and jump around on mountains when no one was watching, which made the whole thing pointless. Pipp had always tried to tell her that nothing that wasn’t caught on camera counted, but Zipp didn’t get it. But now she was glad her sister hadn’t followed her advice, because it meant there would be no witnesses when she pushed her off the edge. Really, the plan was brilliant in its simplicity.
“Hey, Zipp,” she said one morning. “I was wondering if I could come along on your hike this afternoon.” She kept her voice casual. Smooth. Flawless.
“Uh, why?” Zipp asked. “I thought you hated working out.”
Pipp paused. That hadn’t been part of the plan. “Um,” she stalled. “It’s just that there’s this new TikHoof trend for like… self-improvement, or something. Lots of ponies are doing it.”
“Uh-huh.” Zipp didn’t seem convinced. “That’s great and all, but I don’t think you could handle my hikes. You should find something… more your speed.”
Pipp raised her wings, aghast. “How dare you! I can handle anything you can handle! I am Princess Pipp Petals! I can do anything!”
Zipp rolled her eyes. “Sure you can. Fine, follow me if you want, but I’m not waiting up for you.”
Pipp stuck her nose in the air. “You won’t have to!”
Every part of Pipp hurt. Her lungs ached, and her hooves were sore, and she’d scraped her leg and her back, and there was dirt in her mane and she was probably bleeding on her dress. She slowly stuck her hoof up, groaning with effort as she pulled herself up the mountain, before barely rolling over the cliff edge onto flat ground, her sides heaving. She was getting dust and dirt all over herself, but she could hardly bring herself to care.
“Not bad!” Zipp said, her brightly-colored mane appearing in Pipp’s vision. “I was sure you’d have given up by now.”
“Shut… up,” Pipp gasped. “I… never… give… up.”
“Never?” Zipp teased. “What about that fashion line you said you were going to do, but quit when you found out there was more to fashion than marketing? Or that time when you were obsessed with finding a boyfriend, but didn’t want to actually date anypony? Or that time when—”
“Enough!” Pipp growled, struggling to her hooves. “Why… are you… even still… here?” She paused, taking a few long, deep breaths, trying to slow her pounding heart. “Thought you said you’d… leave me behind.”
“And miss this show? This is totally worth throwing off my route. I haven’t had this much fun in ages.”
“Jerk.”
“Love you too. Come on, come over here. There’s a great view, totally makes the climb worth it.”
Pipp followed. Now was her chance. Zipp was right at the edge, and looking away from her. All she had to do was… push.
She could do this.
She broke into what could generously be called a gallop. Okay, perhaps more of a trot. It was forward motion at a speed slightly higher than walking, and that was what counted. It was impressive for her.
She slammed into Zipp from behind, and the taller pegasus… rocked. “Whoa!” she exclaimed, setting her hooves more firmly. “Careful there, sis. It’s a long way down.”
Pipp strained. Turned around and pushed with her back, digging her hind hooves into the dirt. Flapped her wings for extra force. But Zipp didn’t budge. Finally, she collapsed to the dirt again.
Zipp chuckled, not appearing to notice her efforts at all. “We should do this again sometime,” she said brightly.
For perhaps the first time in her life, the thought crossed Pipp’s mind that she was glad no one was watching.
Clearly, the answer was to employ a less physical method. Pipp’s first plan had been solid. Brilliant, even, if she did say so herself, save for one tiny flaw. She’d underestimated Zipp’s physical prowess, something her sister had always had an advantage in. She needed to utilize her own strengths: Her dazzling beauty. Her impressive follower count. Her dizzying intellect.
She just had to figure out how to kill somepony with one of those.
Pipp was running out of ideas.
She’d tried surreptitiously turning to her followers, but every pony who had responded had been, like, a total creep, and upon even the most basic questioning had shown not to have the skills she had very clearly asked for.
She’d tried poisoning Zipp’s meals, but the castle chefs had thrown her out of the kitchens when she’d tried to touch the food, and Zipp’s “trail rations” hadn’t held enough of a dose to do anything more than give her a stomachache.
She’d tried dropping heavy objects from the castle roof, but her aim was terrible and all she’d managed to kill was a few flowers in the front garden.
And through it all, Zipp had remained blissfully ignorant. It was almost infuriating, that her attempts had failed and her target wasn’t even trying to avoid them, even though rationally she knew that Zipp catching on would have been far worse.
Now all she had was moping in her room and spinning her wheels, trying to come up with new ideas.
“Hey, Pipp,” a voice said, and she shrieked and slammed shut the journal she’d been brainstorming in.
She spun around, glaring at her older sister as she walked in the door. “What do you want?”
“Just checking in,” Zipp said, her voice as casual as ever. “What’cha working on?”
“Nothing. Go away.”
Zipp smirked, and did not go away. She stepped up to the desk, looking at the various items scattered across it. Then, faster than Pipp could blink, she reached out and snatched the journal out from under her hooves.
“NO! Give that back!” Pipp yelled, jumping out of her seat and trying to grab for it. But Zipp held it tauntingly out of reach, opening it up.
She said nothing as her gaze took in the incriminating images in it, from Pipp holding a knife with the words ‘ha ha ha’ over her head, or just “shark?” scribbled questioningly in the margins, or the unflattering doodle of Zipp with her precious mane on fire. There was a biohazard symbol on one side, with “Zipp hates peanuts - allergy?” under it, and a terrible drawing of Pipp driving what looked like a house but what was supposed to be a bulldozer.
“Running out of ideas, huh?” Zipp asked gently.
“No! I mean… what? Ideas? Haha, what are you talking about?” Pipp asked, giggling uncertainly.
“Come on, Pipp. You’ve been, like, stupidly obvious about it.”
“Noooo I haven’t,” Pipp said, very convincingly.
Zipp dropped the journal back into Pipp’s hooves, then dropped onto the bed. “Do you really think this is the best way to get what you want?” she asked gently.
“You don’t even know what I want!” Pipp shot back, more harshly than she’d intended.
“You want to be Queen,” Zipp said quietly. “And you’re mad that Mom picked me instead.”
Pipp didn’t respond.
“Look, I’m sorry. I know this sucks.”
Pipp blinked, shocked. “Why are you apologizing to me? I’ve been trying to kill you!”
Zipp shrugged. “I mean, yeah, but not very well.”
“Hey!”
“Admit it, sis. You’re a terrible assassin.”
“Hmph.” Pipp crossed her forelegs, refusing to do any such thing.
Fortunately, Zipp let it go. “Seriously, I am sorry. I don’t want to be Queen just as much as you want to. I think Mom made a terrible mistake, and you’d be twice the Queen I’ll ever be.”
Pipp looked back. “Really?”
“Yeah, really, you big dummy. So can we stop trying to kill each other?”
“You never tried to kill me.”
“That’s because I’m the big sister, so I have to be the responsible one.”
Pipp cracked a smile. And then, unbidden, she began to laugh. Soon, they were both laughing together, and Zipp swept her up in a hug.
“I’m sorry I tried to kill you,” Pipp whispered into Zipp’s wings.
“Eh,” Zipp shrugged. “What are sisters for, anyway, if not the occasional attempted murder?”
