You're deep in thought as the elevator descends downwards. The elevator attendant is silent, her muzzle buried in the sports section of a newspaper.

Earlier, you apologized to the floor manager and promised to come another time. The manager didn't even acknowledge you.

The drunk changeling and his companion were nowhere to be found on the way back, either. You had hoped to get some explanation from them.

No matter. A vague plan is forming in your head. If you can exploit the apparent grudge most of the State Bank employees hold towards their manager and Queen Chrysalis, you could gain access to confidential information or even convince someone to give it to you directly. The deer would be the obvious candidate. Changelings are too stubborn and fanatically loyal to betray their beloved Queen.

Until then, you'll need someplace to stay. The Tower has entire floors dedicated to providing hotel rooms, so visitors don't even have to leave for the duration of their stay. If you can't find a room, though, you'll look for other options in the city. Staying in the Great Queen's Tower means more time to spend in the Tower itself, but sending intelligence back to S.M.I.L.E will be risky at best and downright impossible at worst given the level of surveillance they're likely to have.

The elevator comes to a stop and you step out onto the tenth floor. It's a fairly standard luxury hotel lobby, albeit with the ever present changeling décor. The black false roof, glistening grey and green tiles, and lack of any windows contribute to the feeling that the room has been fashioned out of an underground cavern. Changelings have historically lived largely underground here in the north of Equus, where the temperatures regularly drop below freezing even in the summers.

The asthetic only serves to make you feel uncomfortable, though. You're not a fan of the night time or of dark spaces. The changeling accents are a constant reminder that you're in the Changeling Lands, too, if the changelings buzzing around everywhere weren't enough. The occasional chitter or buzz of wings is nauseating.

You jump slightly as you receive a light tap on your barrel. A uniformed changeling is beaming at you, while a more serious, similarly uniformed 'ling stands behind him.

The uniforms are similar to the outfits Changeling soldiers wear when not in combat: a solid grey buttoned shirt tucked over a pair of black pants. Two red pads adorn the changelings' shoulders; one with gold rank markings and the other with a simple grey heart icon.

"Hello, ma'am! We're from the Liebessammeldienst. I'm Cadet Max, and this is Sergeant Friedrich. May I see your Love Tax form, if you're not in a hurry?"

The Liebessammeldienst. The Love Collection Service. They exist purely to collect and distribute Love, which, in a way, makes them the most powerful organization of the Changeling government. By controlling the supply of Love, they can control every changeling under Chrysalis' rule. Or they would if Chrysalis didn't keep them on a short leash.

As far as you know, the Love Tax is mandatory on every non-changeling living under Changeling rule- aside from the bears, who are protected by the special relationship the Northern Protectorate has with the Changeling Lands. You've managed to avoid it till now simply by looking out for the Service agents that are omnipresent in every major transit center and public square, but it seems there's no getting out of this.

You open your saddlebag and pass over your paper booklet. The changeling levitates it in front of his muzzle.

"Right, this isn't..."

The other changeling points to the bottom of the first page, explaining, "Here, Cadet. This is a Provisional Government document, so the Love Tax information is attached directly to the identification."

"Right. Sorry, Sergeant. Is there anyling else with you, miss Cold Heart?"

You look around at the changelings passing by. "With me?"

"Did you come here with anyone?" clarifies Sergeant Friedrich.

"Oh. No. I'm alone."

Cadet Max squints at your documents. "Right... it looks like you haven't paid your tax for two months now, ma'am."

Ah, shit. You forgot the documents were forged over two months ago, so all the dates are from before that time. You swallow nervously, thinking of some excuse to use.

"I can explain, agent-"

"OH nononono, ma'am, you're not in trouble." Cadet Max gives you an upset frown. "I don't mean to scare everyling, but they look at the uniforms and think, 'This mean changeling's here to take stuff from me.' It's not like that, though. I'm just here to help you perform your duty to Her Majesty!"

The Sergeant coughs. "Cadet..."

"Sorry again, Sergeant Friedrich. Right, ma'am, you can just pay the last two months' tax at once. Either we can extract it now, or you can report to a Liebessammeldienst office within two days' time."

You might as well get it done and over with. "I'll do it now."

Cadet Max beams at you. "Oh, yay! Sergeant, should I do the extraction or..."

The Sergeant shakes his head. "You've had enough extraction practice. You can do support this time. How many liters are we aiming for, Cadet?"

The Cadet's muzzle scrunches up in concentration as he levitates the documents back to you. "Given the listed body weight, and that we're collecting two months' of tax, I'd say... 200 milliliters, condensed?"

Huh. You didn't know that they used such exact measurements.

"Good estimate. Prepare the vial." The Sergeant removes his cap. "Pony, touch the tip of your horn to mine. It's much easier that way."

You comply, wincing slightly in discomfort. Your horn has always been sensitive to physical contact. You're also starting to panic as you realize you have no idea how having your Love extracted is supposed to feel.

"Cadet, status?"

Your eyes are locked with the Sergeant's, so you can't see what Cadet Max is doing.

"The vial is ready, sir. I've cast the monitoring spell too. Heartbeat is slightly rapid, but within the normal range. We're all set."

"Understood. Beginning extraction now, 200 milliliters condensed."

A sudden wave of dread and emptiness rolls across you as the changeling's horn glows sickly green. Your mind is flooded with the doubts that you've been suppressing so far.

You're not good enough for this mission. A skilled changeling failed to get anything of value and was captured. What can you do? You've already made a series of small mistakes that could have blown your cover instantly.

You're in danger. At any time you could be discovered and seized. They'll torture you or just kill you outright.

This whole operation is just a ploy to get rid of you. Why would S.M.I.L.E send you alone? Why didn't you receive more information on the changelings? Was the plan deliberately vague to make you slip up?

You blink as the changeling Sergeant withdraws. You feel tired and drained, both emotionally and physically. Your mind still spins with dark thoughts.

"203 milliliters. You need to call the stop earlier, Cadet. Now, get that marked and put it with the others."

"Right, sorry, Sergeant... Are you alright, Miss Cold Heart?"

You stare at Cadet Max. "Hm? Oh, yeah, I'm just a bit dizzy."

He pouts at you before perking up and ruffling through a side pouch with one of his forelegs. He hands you a large, wrapped cookie.

"Here! It'll make you feel better."

Normally you'd be loath to accept a gift from a changeling, but you haven't eaten all morning and you need something to distract you. You accept the cookie with a small nod.

"Donating Love is kind of like donating blood, if you think about it. Sure, you'll feel tired for a bit, but you'll recover quickly and feel as good as you ever have. Plus, you're doing a good deed!" the Cadet comments as he writes something on the vial with a marker. The liquid inside the vial is white but occasionally pulses with a red glow.

Is this changeling really trying to justify forcing ponies to go through... that? You're growing more disgusted with him every second.

The cookie is good, though. Hmph.

Cadet Max hoofs over a small white slip. "Show this to a Liebessammeldienst office by the end of the week, and they'll update your record."

Great. So you have to go to a Service office anyways. You shove the slip into your identification booklet, and march away to the check-in desk.

You faintly overhear the Sergeant say, "You can go- ah, she's already run off."

And that was your intention. You wait in queue at the desk, right behind a cluster of nymphs clustered around a tired-looking changeling-

"Oh, Cold Heart!"

"It's miss Cold Heart!"

"Who?"

"The angry pony from earlier."

"Oh... I don't like her..."

It's Snap, the nymph caretaker from earlier, along with the nymphs he's taking care of. It seems the time it took for you to visit the State Bank conveniently coincided with his tour schedule for booking a room. You look down the queue and, yep, you'll be stuck here for at least a few minutes.

You silently curse whatever deity above keeps forcing you to interact with changelings. It feels like you've done nothing but talk to 'lings since you arrived here, and it's barely been an hour!

"Hello, uh, Snip," you reply coolly.

"Snap. I hope I got your name right." Snap smiles warmly at you.

Dammit, how do you get him to stop bothering you without freaking him out? Wait, wouldn't a businessmare be happy to make some friends? Are you acting suspiciously here? Perhaps interacting normally will throw off Changeling intelligence, if it gets suspicious of you.

Ok, new plan. You'll interact with Snap juuuuust enough for him to remember you as a completely normal pony subject of Chrysalis, and then you won't have to worry about him anymore.

Ugh, your head still feels foggy after the Love extraction...

"Yeah, you did. I'm sorry, I just paid the Love tax, and I'm feeling a bit dizzy-"

"I saw." Snap grimaces, shaking his head. "It's a horrible affair, but someone has to do it."

You shrug. "I'm glad that I could serve Her Majesty like this."

Just saying that makes you feel nauseous.

Snaps' fin perks up. "Oh, I have an idea to take your mind off things! I've booked the nymphs into a youth program- tour- thingie, and it came with a complimentary paid dinner for two. It's at the Schmétterling. It's a fairly high-end restaurant, and I don't want to let the second seat go to waste. So... would you like to accompany me?"

Stay in character, Cold Strike! A businessmare would definitely take a free dinner at a fancy restaurant. Or would she prefer to eat alone-? No, now you're overthinking this.

"Sure, if you don't mind. Also, uh, it's your turn to check-in."

The nymphs cluster around Snap's legs, staring at you as he talks to the receptionist.

You smile at them. "Don't worry, I don't bite. No fangs, see?"

"You said you'd stomp Aspen..." mutters one of the nymphs.

Your smile disappears. "It was a joke. Don't take it seriously."

The nymphs don't look very convinced. One of them even covers its eyes. Hmph, you're not THAT scary.

You think back to what entertained you as a foal in Canterlot. Perhaps the same would apply to these nymphs.

You focus hard. Your horn glows purple as a swirling blue mist appears on the ground in front of you. It's an extremely simple illusion spell, but the nymphs are fascinated nonetheless. One of them tries to poke the mist only to be disappointed when its leg goes straight through.

"Now, where's Aspen?"

One of the nymphs tentatively steps forward. "Hi..."

"What's your favourite colour, little guy?"

Aspen scratches its head. "I dunno... light blue?"

You change the colour of the mist to a light teal. Aspen's eyes widen. "Woah, that's so cool!"

"Alright, nymphs, let's not bother miss Cold Heart." Snap has finished checking in. "We're in room five hundred and three. As for the dinner, how does eight o'clock sound?"

You shrug. "Sure, I guess." It's not like you have any plans just yet.

Snap smiles at you. "See you there, Cold Heart."

"You too."

You step to the counter where a receptionist is barely managing to hide his impatience under a cheery veil.

"Hello, ma'am! Do you have a room reserved?"

"No, I'm looking to book one. What, uh, options do you have for one bedroom rooms?"

The receptionist nods at an open brochure taped to the front of the desk. "We have three different class options, but do note the lowest option is only available for one-night stays. If you're looking for cheaper accommodations, we have an apartment block specially reserved for guests to Her Majesty's Great Queen's Tower."

You read through the brochure. It seems your only two options within the hotel itself are between a regular-looking one bedroom hotel room, and an upper class room situated on the above floor. You locate the apartment options shoved into a small space on the brochure. The apartment block is apparently situated right on the Tower Plaza, so it'll be a very short commute each morning to the Tower.

Cost doesn't particularly matter to you here. You have a massive supply of marks procured by S.M.I.L.E, both on hoof and in several bank accounts.

Getting an upper class hotel room would let you interact a bit more with the high-level bureaucrats you're sure to find in the State Bank, but is probably more closely surveyed by intelligence than the other two options.

Conversely, the apartment block allows you more freedom but less opportunities to interact with those high up in the Changeling government.

The standard hotel room feels like an uncomfortable compromise between these.

It's time to choose...

Where will you be staying?

A - The standard hotel room.
B - The upper class hotel room.
C - The apartment block.

Option B wins the vote with 100% of 5 total votes.

Author's Note

Apologies for the slightly late upload. The next chapter will be delayed one week- it's time for my break! :D