The Queen of Canterlot

The ringing didn’t stop. After Cadence stalked out of the alley, Chrysalis continued to sit there, blankly staring at the spot where Cadence had been.

“Holy shit,” said one of the drones. “That was cold.”

“What a bitch,” another of them agreed. “Changeling whore? Her Majesty isn’t the one cheating on her partner.”

“My mom is her scribe,” said a third. “Tomorrow I’m going to have to go back to being the dumb little filly who idolizes the ‘princess of love’ and pretend I don’t know she’s a condescending asshole.”

“Seemed pretty racist,” agreed a fourth.

“Like we’d even want to go to her wedding,” said a fifth.

And then one said, “We could body snatch her.” And later, none of them would recall exactly which one of them said it.

They all looked at Chrysalis, at their queen. She stared back, blank faced, still. She waited for someone to tell the speaker to knock it off, or to laugh it off as a joke, or to rebuke them for proposing doing something genuinely dangerous. They weren’t really a hive. They weren’t even really punks. They were rich foals and lost souls, pretending to be something they weren’t, and that suggestion crossed over the line.

Silence hung in the alley.

“Like,” some drone said, “full on, grab her, stick her in a pod, replace her with a body double ‘body snatch’? Like invasion of the body snatchers body snatch?”

“Yeah.”

“I know my way around the palace,” said the one whose mother was a scribe. “And some ponies the guards will recognize as having access.”

“Plus, with the wedding, everypony will be in places they wouldn’t normally be. Small differences in routine, little errors in disguises, things that wouldn’t normally pass -- they’ll brush them off.”

“Does anyone actually know how to weave a cocoon? I just puke slime every time I try.”

“Why didn’t you tell me? Yeah, I know how. I can teach you.”

“I know how to do a sleeper hold on a guard.”

And Chrysalis realized, they were all staring at her.

No, said Shining’s voice in her head. This is insane and I’m deeply disappointed in all of you for even suggesting it. Go home, go back to your real homes and the families who love you, and never come back to this place.

“Any objections?” Chrysalis asked, and she begged, she pleaded with her eyes, object. Some bug, please object. But they didn’t.

None of them did. Wings buzzed in ascent. “Very well,” Chrysalis said, as in her head she wept. “Then tomorrow, we will crash a wedding.”