Luna hastily opened her eyes.

The whirring of a telephone strained the diarch’s exhausted mind. She brought a hoof to the face and groaned, swearing under her breath as she sat on the bed she had enjoyed just a few moments ago. To her right, the device rang incessantly in an irritating tempo that gradually frustrated the alicorn.

With a magic touch, the phone levitated to her ear. Her voice betrayed a hoarse tone as she attempted to speak.

“Thou art quite inopportune for the time,” she growled in a deadly mood. “We hope it is worth our attention.”

“...I’m afraid it is, Your Majesty.”

The alicorn stood silent for an ever-so-brief second—her posture straightened the moment she recognized the voice on the other end.

“Fancypants.”

“I-I apologize for the call at this time of the night, Your Majesty,” the tired voice spoke. “I am aware of your recent temporary schedule change in the absence of your sister, but I felt that this matter cannot be given the privilege of ignorance-”

“Cut to the chase, Head Minister.”

The stallion went quiet. “...Right, my apologies…” Through the phone, an inhalation could be heard, followed by the release of a long-contained breath and some coughing. Luna blinked in confusion—he couldn’t be doing what she thought he was doing. It didn’t make sense; Celestia said he was abstinent. “Members of my cabinet and I have reason to believe that there is, currently, a full-blown plot developing against me and the democratically elected council that governs in your names…”

“...What?”

“It is, ma’am,” Fancypants’ voice echoed. “And its leader is believed to be a senior member of your family.”

“Has dearest sister been notified about this?”

Another pause came, then followed another inhalation and consequent exhalation of what Luna could only hope was an ordinary cigarette's content. “I so wish this information could be communicated to her as well, Your Majesty. But we both know very well that the lack of phone lines in Griffinstone would make it impossible for the news to reach her with sufficient urgency.”

“Who are we talking of?” the mare hesitantly questioned. She surely wouldn’t like the response.

“Prince Blueblood.”

And she was right. “...That spoiled brat.”

“Indeed, Your Majesty,” the stallion on the other side didn’t hesitate to reply. “And as much of a brat as he is, he is packed with greedy, powerful friends who will do anything to obtain more power, even if it is at the expense of financing an entire coup d'état against our administration.”

“Maybe even a revolution if they were to see an opportunity,” Princess Luna concluded.

“Precisely,” Fancypants exhaled. “That is why we must act now.”

But how?—Luna pondered. Of all the ponies they could be talking about, it was Blueblood for crying out loud! He was a colt with zero sense of responsibility and an absolute lack of maturity. She doubted that even Celestia, as wise as she was, could come up with an appropriate punishment for such a level of offense.

“What would you suggest we do then?”

“Take him out of the picture.”

The alicorn blinked in astonished silence—she contained the urge to take away the device and give it a look of disbelief as if it were the very same Fancypants in person.

“Fancypants-”

“Permanently.” The minister cleanly cut off her talk.

“Head Minister, what you’re suggesting is-”

“Unethical?” the stallion interjected, his tone suddenly shifting as so much pent-up frustration came close to being released in an outburst. “Your Majesty, your nephew has forged himself an infamous reputation for rebellious acts and questioning authority; he is unstable and unfit for the political life of Canterlot, let alone Equestria as a whole! All he has done is tarnish your and your sister's image and, yet, he has been left to roam free, spending egregious amounts from the royal reserve on parties, mares, and illegal substances. I still do not understand how this can be tolerated among the nobility, of all social groups!”

The Princess opened her mouth to protest, but the stallion shut her off abruptly.

“And, with the deepest sympathy that this situation allows me to express, it is necessary to take such a measure with somepony of outstanding reputation.” He sarcastically stated, “That includes his friends as well—no loose ends must be left untied.”

“...I understand, Fancypants. Have a good night.”

“One more thing, Your Majesty.” The stallion’s voice stopped the mare from hanging up the call, with her magic immediately bringing back the phone to her ear as she listened. “I feel compelled to remind you that tolerance for the royal family is hanging by a thread as it is—and that, throughout my time in office, I have done my level best to protect the interests of the Crown as a top priority. However, if I were to know about the slightest intervention against the political business on your part, I would be left with no option but to side with the republican elements of my cabinet, which I successfully controlled until now... and take measures.”

“...Leave it with us, Head Minister,” she finally replied after a few seconds.

“Your Majesty.”

Luna could no longer hold her breath when the call finally hung up. Her magic instantly faded, causing the phone to drop, although it miraculously avoided impact against the ground thanks to the short cable reach.

She brought her hooves to the face. Her mouth had spoken before her judgment did, and had become stuck between a rock and a hard place as to what action to take regarding such a situation—she weighed her options for a hot minute, but not even one of them seemed appealing to her rationale.

But time wasn’t in her favor, and she had to make a decision now or face the consequences. With a sigh, she sat on the edge of her bed and levitated the phone back to her ear, then dialed a number… and waited…

She sighed…

…This was going to be a long night.

Author's Note

THE END...?