One Thousand and One Neighs

by Drakkanien
edited by a friend

The first thing Prince Blueblood noted about their Saddle Arabian guests was that they were very loud. Equestrian ponies by no means were quiet creatures, eager to cheer, shout and sing. But that didn’t even come close to how energetic and jovial their Eastern cousins were. Whether arguing or simply talking, they raised their voices as if to be heard by everypony around, seemingly unbothered by the looks sent their way.

This behaviour wasn’t limited to the dozen or so servants Ahrisham brought; it extended to the mare herself and her personal retinue. Her conversations with her wizard and soothsayer filled the halls with melodious vocalisation. The soothsayer spoke both Equestrian and her own tongue. Blueblood couldn’t help but note that the strange, even eerie soothsayer spoke flawless Equish, without even a hint of an accent - something Perplexity found... perplexing. She did not elaborate further on the subject…

In truth, Blueblood attempted to not pollute his mind with these guests, even trying to avoid them whenever possible. It worked fine for almost a week. He was however very well aware that sooner rather than later he would have to interact with them, despite his reservations.

Stirring his morning coffee, a brew strong enough to rouse even the dead, he cast his blue eyes around the table. One of the upsides of eating breakfast with his aunts and the select few lucky (or unlucky, depending on the perspective) ponies was that Saddle Arabians did not participate. Not because they hadn’t been invited, oh no. Aunt Celestia had extended the invitation to Ahrisham, but she had politely refused, saying she was occupied during the morning hours.

It was completely fine by Blueblood. At least he could enjoy the breakfast in peace.

Today’s petit déjeuner had a very small attendance. Besides himself, only his aunts and Ms. Raven were present. In all honesty, Blueblood preferred these intimate meals, free from other dignitaries breathing down his neck or counting how many times he stirred his coffee (seven times in total, four to the left and three to the right). These were ponies around whom he felt more or less comfortable.

“... light for Your Majesty.” Ms. Inkwell mused from over her cinnamon croissant, some crumbs stuck to her muzzle. “First thing in the morning, ten-o-clock, so we have a few hours to prepare, you were asked to attend the grand re-opening of Best of the Best Boutique…”

“They always do the ‘grand re-opening’ whenever they change paint there.” Princess Luna mumbled into her coffee mug, protectively cradling it with both of her silver-shoed hooves.

“... speaking of you, Princess Luna.” Raven carried on unphased, though a tiny smirk graced her lips. “Teachers of Vanhoover’s Elementary requested explicitly for their Princess of the Night to attend one of the reading classes.”

Princess Luna groaned audibly, sticking her entire muzzle into her coffee mug. After a moment she asked, her snout still inside the mug: “When?”

“Around noon today, though, they asked you to arrive as early as half an hour earlier. Foals are very excited at the prospect of meeting their princess.” Raven nodded sharply and drew a check mark with a pencil in her notes.

“You should be happy, dear sister. You always complain that your little ponies rarely invite you to their events.” Celestia said with a smile, cutting a small piece of her pancake and levitating it to her mouth.

“We are overjoyed.” Luna raised her head, blinking one eye at the time, her tone monotone. Tip of Princess’ muzzle was dripping with coffee. “We just need a moment to collect our thoughts.” Her eyes swivelled towards her mug. “And more coffee.”

Celestia giggled into her hoof, far more spry than her nocturnal sibling. Her pale magenta eyes fell on Blueblood, and he instantly realised something: she had that smile on her muzzle.

“Oh no.” Prince mumbled, feeling primordial dread dawn upon him. He started to chew his sweet bagel a bit faster.

“Nephew~” Celestia’s voice was warm and sweet, too sweet.

Blueblood pretended he hadn’t heard her, even though his ears visibly twitched at the sound of his aunt’s voice.

“I have been thinking - since Ahrisham expressed her interest in learning more about Equestria and our culture…” She began.

“No, Auntie...” Blueblood's plea fell on deaf ears.

“... visiting cultural sites and even engaging with Canterlot ponies of her own volition…”

“Please…?”

“... perhaps you could accompany her? Show her and her entourage what life in Canterlot is like.”

“... have mercy…”

“Please, Blue,” Celestia said with a sigh, using his pet name. The mere mention of it brought a scarlet blush to the Prince’s cheeks and the tips of his ears. “You are being dramatic.”

“Why me?” Blueblood struggled to hold in a whinny. “You are well aware of our… animosity.”

“From what I’ve seen, it's very one-sided,” Celestia mused, chewing on her pancake before adding more whipped cream to her meal.

“You know well enough I have every reason to be... upset.” The word felt awkward on his tongue, but he didn't want to use anything stronger.

“Ahrisham wanted to apologise for her misconduct…” Celestia noted, shooting a glance toward Luna.

The Lunar Princess had finished her coffee and was now questioning Raven for more details about the reading class she was set to attend. She looked happy at the thought of the visit, even if her nose was still damp and a shade darker.

“... yet you avoided her every time she tried.” Celestia continued.

“I have my own reasons.” Blueblood retorted. In truth, he had none - he was being petty, and he knew it.

“I don't require you to like her.” Princess Celestia pointed out, her tone gentle but firm. “But you should at least hear her out. Then you can decide whether to hold a grudge or not. Otherwise, it wouldn't be just.”

Prince Blueblood grumbled at his aunt’s words. He knew she was right, and he wasn't too happy about it. Antagonising a foreign envoy did not befit a royal. After a long pause, he replied, massaging his temples with his hooves. “I... I'll consider it, Auntie.”

“Splendid!” Celestia chirped, finishing her pancake. She gracefully rose from her seat, letting out a light sigh as she stretched her feathery wings. “I trust you will do the right thing, nephew.”

With that, she gestured to Raven, who quickly excused herself and followed the Solar diarch out of the Great Hall, leaving Princess Luna and Blueblood to finish their breakfast in peace.

An awkward silence settled over the table, interrupted only by the soft clink of cutlery against plates and the occasional slurp of coffee.

“Could you pass me the sugar, please?” Princess Luna asked suddenly.

“Of course.” Blueblood replied, using his magic to slide the tiny silver bowl and tongs over to her.

The quiet lingered as Luna took a single sugar cube and dropped it into her midnight-black brew. They didn’t exchange any words for nearly a full minute.

Standing up, leaving a few crumbs of bagel on his plate, Blueblood cast one last glance at the Princess of the Night. “I should be going. Have a nice...”

“We understand you.” Luna blurted out, her voice low, eyes fixed on the depths of her coffee mug.

“Understand what, exactly?” Blueblood asked, taken aback, his expression puzzled.

“Singed pride hurts the most… we… I know it very well.” She lifted her cyan gaze to meet the Prince’s eyes.

He scoffed. “I assure you, dear aunt, this is not a matter of a bruised ego.”

Luna merely narrowed her eyes at him, making Blueblood’s scowl deepen.

“Have it thine way, ‘nephew’.” In Luna’s mouth, the word lacked its usual warmth. “We can’t learn your lessons for you.”

‘There is no lesson to be learned here.’ Blueblood thought, biting his tongue. It wouldn’t be wise to talk back to somepony like Luna.

“I…” He swallowed. “... appreciate that you allow me to make and learn from my own mistakes.”

Princess Luna's face brightened slightly, making Blueblood almost regretful that he did not mean any of his words.

“Perhaps Celestia is right about you.” She said with a smile, turning around and starting to trot away, her muzzle still stained with coffee. “Have a good day, nephew.”

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Freed from the Grand Hall, Prince Blueblood trotted briskly through the wide corridors of the castle, his mood brightened after a sweet pastry to complement his bagel. He was still savouring the lingering taste, smacking his lips, when he heard it.

"My Prince!" A voice called from somewhere behind him. Blueblood quickened his pace, not in the mood to deal with Canterlot's bureaucrats this early in the day.

The voice gasped and heaved, its owner speeding up, hooves clattering and even the faint flapping of wings suggesting a hurried advance.

Rolling his eyes, Blueblood finally turned, and was greeted by the slightly winded visage of a heavy-set, round Pegasus stallion. His reddish mane was in disarray, and he lifted one wing, gesturing for a moment to catch his breath. "A-a moment," he panted. "I need to... to..."

Blueblood tapped his hoof impatiently, his expression a carefully neutral mask.

"Your Highness." The esteemed Seneschal, Lord Usurers, straightened up, using the tips of his feathered wings to fix his high-standing collar. However, the decorative brooch pinned there remained crooked.

"Yes, Lord Usurers?" Blueblood asked, taking a subtle step back to avoid the scent of a sweaty pony.

"I was hoping to find you. Or one of the Princesses." The stallion replied, each word finished with an annoying smack of his lips, causing the Prince's ears to twitch.

Blueblood gestured for him to continue, his own curiosity piqued despite himself.

After a final, deep inhale, Usurers managed to regain his composure. "Ahm..." He cleared his throat. "There has been an incident in the Diplomatic Wing."

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

The Diplomatic Wing was one of the most beautiful yet busiest areas in all of Canterlot Castle. It was also the largest, dwarfing even the Royal Quarters. Unlike other wings, which often stood empty for most of the year save for an occasional servant tasked with cleaning, this part of the castle complex remained occupied year-round. Dignitaries and envoys from all over the world had their private quarters and offices here, making it the most diverse place in all of Equestria. Seaponies, Hippogriffs, Griffons, Buffalo, Yaks, Diamond Dogs, Zebras and more mingled together, forming friendships, rivalries, and striked deals within these walls and adjacent gardens. A number of embassies, designed to reflect the nations they represented, offered a sense of home far away from home to these esteemed guests.

On any other day, Prince Blueblood would have stopped to chat and mingle, especially since he had avoided this part of the castle for nearly a week. But now, his hoofsteps were urgent, leading a small regiment of tense Royal Guards toward where the Saddle Arabian temporary embassy used to be.

Used to be.

Lord Usurers had been precise in his explanation: a part of the Diplomatic Wing had been consumed by a raging storm that had somehow manifested indoors, pouring out through the embassy’s doors and windows. The damages were severe and still mounting as the thunderstorm grew in intensity.

When Blueblood arrived at the terrace leading toward the Zebrican sector of the wing, he found the scene both mesmerising and terrifying. His ears instinctively pinned flat against his skull as he jumped behind the nearest guard to use her as a shield. Poking his head above her armoured frame, he watched as dark, purple clouds circled overhead, visible through cracks in the damaged roof. Bright lightning occasionally lit the sky, making him shrink even further. Thunderbolts, while sparse, still assaulted this sector of the palace, causing fires and warping whatever they hit. Floors and walls were cracked and charred where bolts had struck, and parts of the stone had melted under the intense heat. Window shutters either hung pathetically from their frames, swaying in the gale, or had been entirely ripped off, while glass was strewn across the floor, mixed with dirt, branches, and leaves. Parts of the outer walls had collapsed in places, and sections of the roof were missing.

What struck Blueblood as most intriguing were the dull, purple crystals growing in clusters here and there, seemingly close to the spots where lightning hit. Some were hoof-sized, while others were as tall and wide as a pony, protruding from walls and floors at odd angles. Several of these crystals lay shattered on the ground, brittle as dried clay, breaking under the slightest pressure. Being a unicorn, Blueblood sensed a lingering magic within them, and with a bit of concentration, he detected a familiar sensation - like a failed spell: empty, disappointing, stiffening.

Shaking his head and lifting his eyes over the guardsmare’s back, he saw an unusual pony nearby. To his surprise, it was Celestia’s star pupil - Twilight Sparkle! She was dishevelled, with wild strands of mane sticking out at odd angles, and her purple fur was stained with soot and debris. She stood where the Saddle Arabian embassy doors once were, her horn alight with an intense hue of pink magic.

“Why...” He began, raising his tone and poking more of himself out from behind his improvised pony-shield. “...whenever there is some magical mishap in Canterlot, are you always at the centre of it?”

At the sound of his harsh voice, Twilight’s ears folded back, her spell breaking. She spun around, her dark hair flailing in the wind, giving him a sheepish look. “Uh, um… the spell… it got out of hoof... I didn’t mean to... I... I…” She stammered, still the same anxious student he remembered.

“You are lucky that I’m good friends with your brother, Twilight Sparkle. Otherwise, I would be...” He paused dramatically, pushing the guardsmare forward, despite her increasing annoyance, finally stopping right in front of Twilight, purple crystal shards crunching beneath his hooves. “...upset.”

Prince Blueblood scanned the wreckage around them. Pieces of what had once been a statue lay scattered nearby, its larger fragments the only reminders of the masterwork it used to be. Restoring this ancient hall to its former glory would take considerable time and resources.

The guards who had arrived with Prince Blueblood, except for the mare he was using for cover, quickly dispersed. They searched for the injured and tried to restore some semblance of order, urging onlookers to keep their distance and find shelter. The guardsmare, unlike Blueblood, avoided stepping on the brittle crystals, carefully shovelling them aside with her hooves.

More and more victims of what appeared to be a violent magical anomaly began to emerge from their hiding spots at the sight of help. Some were limping from injuries caused by falling debris or stray splinters, though none seemed to be gravely hurt. ‘There will be so much paperwork to sign’, Blueblood thought, watching a Zebra shuffle past them, favouring one of her back legs. Such an accident in the middle of the embassy complex was bound to cause an uproar.

“What happened?” Blueblood asked, giving Twilight a pointed look. He braced himself internally for the flood of magical jargon he knew was coming, hoping he could catch at least a word or two that might explain the mess.

“I was testing a theory concerning the expansion of the Crystal Desert.” Twilight began, using her pink-hued magic to wipe a streak of soot from her cheek. “I was trying to stabilise the crystals produced by the storm, because…”

As if under a spell, Twilight’s words became incomprehensible. Blueblood’s ears twitched as she started rambling about advanced magical theory, some of which he was hearing for the first time. A quick glance at his makeshift shield revealed that the guardsmare was even more confused by Twilight’s ramble than he was.

Twilight’s lecture seemed endless... For somepony more versed in magical theory it likely could be an enlightening thing, alas - Blueblood was not such a pony. As he listened on, he could almost feel smoke coming out of his ears…

Luckily, before he could test the theory of whether his mind would sizzle under the continued assault of magical buzzwords, a mare in golden armour approached them. Her eyes shifted uncertainty between the silent Prince and the nervously chattering Twilight, then fell on her unfortunate comrade. She maintained a stoic expression, though tiny sparks in her eyes hinted that her colleague had just earned herself a new nickname. Eventually, her gaze settled back on Prince Blueblood.

“Permission to report, sir!” Lieutenant barked, snapping a salute with her wing. Her ears twitched with each word uttered by Twilight.

“Granted.” He nodded, poking his head up from over his barricade.

Twilight did not seem to notice the presence of another pony nearby, continuing her one-sided discourse.

“We have completed the initial survey.” the Lieutenant replied. “There are five casualties, including one serious, and one missing. Interviews with compliant witnesses are in progress.” She laid out the basics. “The storm over our heads…” As if on cue, a lightning bolt struck what remained of the roof, making several ponies yelp. The Prince himself ducked behind his cover, nearly dragging the guardsmare down with him.

“H-hey!” The mare yelped, her hooves slipping on the shards of glass, crystal, and clumps of dirt. Blueblood paid her no heed.

“...appears to be weakening, though we have already sent for a local detachment of Wonderbolts to take care of it.” the Lieutenant continued.

“Uh… good.” The Prince mumbled, only the top of his head poking out from behind his ‘hiding spot’. “Do you know when they are…?”

“ETA is said to be twelve minutes from now.” the Lieutenant snapped, checking her simple, sturdy pocket watch.

That was an acceptable answer in Blueblood’s mind.

Twilight’s words had become little more than background noise at this point. The mare, however, had managed to procure a piece of chalk from somewhere and was drawing diagrams on a nearby wall.

“Any details on that missing pony?” Blueblood questioned further, placing his hooves on his shield’s gilded armour, once again finding the courage to poke his head out. His eyes shifted from the Lieutenant to the sky, as if expecting another lightning bolt to strike at any moment.

“Not much. All we know is - one of the Saddle Arabians did not show up after the incident.” Her voice was a bit strained. “It doesn’t mean anything just yet.”

Prince inhaled sharply. “Of course…”

Standing to his full height, Blueblood tried to compose himself, even though his legs trembled beneath him.

“You know what to do lieutenant.” He motioned towards the mare with his hoof. “Dismissed.”

“Yes, sir!” She saluted once more before trotting off, barking orders at her subordinates, casting one last look at the mare-turned-shield before leaving Blueblood to suffer through Twilight’s lecture.

“…and that’s why attempting a harmonic convergence of thaumic energy within a crystal matrix must account for nonlinear fluctuations in the resonant frequency, especially when dealing with the arcane equivalence principle!” Twilight finished, blinking as if just now realising she was not in her study but in the midst of a destroyed castle wing. It chipped away a bit at her resolve, making her ears flop back in embarrassment.

“I… yes.” Blueblood muttered, giving Twilight a shallow nod. “But what does any of that mean in laypony terms?”

“Oh! Right.” Twilight shuffled sheepishly, picking up a shard of purple crystal with her magic and crushing it into a fine dust. “The crystals you see around here? They are very - and I must emphasise this - very unstable! Don’t touch them, and it’s best not to even come near them.”

That was easier said than done, as shards of these crystals littered the floor. Blueblood nudged aside the pieces beneath his hooves.

“That leaves me with one more question - what are you doing here?” The Prince asked bluntly. “I dread to think what kind of sorcery you tried to perform in the Diplomatic Wing of all places.”

“Princess Celestia sent me a letter.” Twilight replied, as if that alone was her entire defence. “I-I was supposed to help with the project Ahrisham was working on, b-but…” She stammered. “It was supposed to be simple research! But now it’s a mess…”

Blueblood had little idea what this ‘project’ might be. He hadn’t paid much attention to the Saddle Arabian delegates’ requests after their first private meeting, but he recalled something about seeking counsel on magical matters... What exactly was it, though? He couldn't quite remember.

However, he knew one thing - he had found his culprit.

“Do you know where Ahrisham is now?” The Prince asked, glancing around as if expecting the Saddle Arabian mare to pop out from a hiding spot.

Twilight shook her head. “I lost track of her right when the storm erupted. I tried my best to contain it and didn’t pay attention.”

“She might be with others after they were rounded up.” The previously silent guardsmare finally spoke up.

Blueblood shot her a heated look - one meant for servants who spoke out of turn - but it didn’t seem to faze her in the slightest. He snorted. Crystal Ponies like her did not revere Canterlot royalty as they ought to.

“Lieutenant Peach Sunrise already performed a headcount, no?” She reasoned, looking with the corner of her eye at the agitated Prince. “All the wounded and witnesses are likely gathered someplace outside of the afflicted zone.”

“Good thinking!” Twilight chirped, feeling a bit lighter at the thought of leaving this cursed place. “Let’s get going.”

With a salute, the mare started to escort both Prince and Twilight out of the storm zone, accidentally tripping Blueblood on occasion making him stumble.

He was certain these were no accidents, but had no way to prove it.

As the trio neared the exit from the Zebrican section of the Diplomatic Wing, a low, whistling sound came from above. The noise intensified, and soon, through the holes in the roof, they spotted colourful streaks cutting through the dark clouds. Lightning flashed across the sky, yet the streaks deftly dodged each strike. They engaged in a perilous dance, slicing the storm into smaller fragments, dispersing whatever sinister magic held it together.

“Oh no…” Twilight gasped, looking up, her wide, violet eyes filled with worry. “What if they get hit by lightning?”

“That’s kind of in their job description.” The guardsmare snickered, leading them out of the storm-ravaged area and pushing open the heavy oak doors with both hooves.

Once they were through, it felt as though an oppressive weight had lifted from their shoulders. Their legs shook, and their breaths came quicker, as if they’d just finished a gruelling exercise. Blueblood noticed how much brighter the colours seemed on this side. Though the same sunlight came through, everything appeared livelier. A glance back revealed how dull and drained the area they’d left behind looked.

‘Must be because of these dark clouds.’ He mused, following after his ‘Shield’.

True to ‘Shield’s’ words, Canterlot’s Royal Guard had set up a rendezvous point just outside. More nurses bustled about than there were injured, bandaging wounds, pulling shards of glass and other debris, and questioning patients.

By a large window overlooking the Zebrican sector’s terrace, a number of Saddle Arabians gathered, their expressions mixed, from tiredness and dejection to fright and even anger. Some gazed at the storm, wincing each time lightning cleaved the clouds. Dust and debris clung to their colourful clothes, splinters tangled in their manes and tails. Their leader, Ahrisham, was in a heated exchange with Lieutenant Peach Sunrise. She held a handkerchief to her cheek, its once-white fabric now stained with crimson.

“No, I don’t know where she is...” Ahrisham sighed. “But I’m almost certain she’s fine.”

Blueblood noted that she dropped her thick accent, her tone nearly that of a native speaker.

“How can you be so sure?” Peach Sunrise pressed, stomping a hoof, her feathers ruffling with irritation. “For all we know, she could be buried under rubble!”

“I just am.” Ahrisham’s tone was firm as she pressed the handkerchief more tightly to her cheek. She winced and the red stain grew a little. “The Cycle does not claim its prophet so easily.”

Lieutenant Peach Sunrise exhaled in frustration, waving around a quill and parchment with the tip of her wings. “Fine. At least give me her name…”

“She doesn’t have one.” Ahrisham replied with a slight smirk.

The Lieutenant glared at her.

“It is true! Snake ate it.” Ahrisham sounded convinced of her words.

“Lieutenant!” Blueblood’s ‘Shield’ called, her heavy hooves hitting the floor as she saluted her acting commander. “Prince Blueblood and Twilight Sparkle wish to speak with Lady Ahrisham!” She announced in one breath, gasping as she finished.

“I can speak for myself,” Blueblood said wryly, pushing past her, no longer needing his pony-shaped barricade.

Despite his recent ordeal, which left several of his hairs sticking out at odd angles, Blueblood managed to look presentable, almost regal. Yes, his bowtie was a bit crooked, and his hooves were dust-streaked, but it gave him an appropriately hooves-on look, ideal for the situation. Puffed up, he fixed his cold, blue eyes on Ahrisham. Despite her towering height, Blueblood remained unflinching.

“Ahrisham…” He did not bother with her title. “I’ve been informed of the incident that took place here.” He said with exaggerated politeness, as though this were a simple court chat and not an interrogation.

Ahrisham glanced at him, then at Twilight, then out the window to the swirling storm clouds. “You’d be correct, Prince.” She let out a tiny, resigned sigh.

‘So now she remembers I am a Prince.’ Blueblood thought, satisfied.

“That storm.” Ahrisham motioned to the sky. “Is but a piece of a magical anomaly that’s slowly consuming my homeland. What you see here is but a fangless, clawless infant - easily contained.” Just then, lightning struck, scattering the streaks fighting it.

“You know very well what it is,” he observed, casting a glance skyward.

Ahrisham nodded, her expression wary.

“Then perhaps you can explain how this storm ended up here, so far from your home?” It was spoken as a question, though any foal could sense the accusation.

Ahrisham swallowed audibly, clearly uncomfortable. She cast a brief glance at Twilight before refocusing on Blueblood. “One of the crystal cores we used in testing... didn’t react well to a spell.”

He gestured for her to continue.

“It... shattered, sending razor-sharp shards everywhere. Worse - it triggered a chain reaction with other, lesser crystals we had in storage, sparking the storm that now looms over us.”

“And you thought it wise to do such experiments here, when there was a real danger of unleashing such a calamity over Canterlot Castle?” Blueblood’s voice dripped with smug satisfaction. He had heard everything he needed.

Twilight tried to interject, “It wasn’t like that; it was an accid—”

Neither of them paid her any mind.

Ahrisham considered Blueblood’s words, her expression guarded. “Our experiment wasn’t a complete failure.” She replied carefully. “We learned—”

“That’s not what I asked.” Blueblood interrupted sharply, tapping his hoof impatiently. His eyes held a triumphant gleam.

Ahrisham sighed, her eyes fixed on him. “I knew there was a risk and still proceeded, hoping that Twilight’s methods would contain it. They didn’t.”

Blueblood let out a happy hum, Ahrisham didn’t even attempt to deny her involvement, which only made things easier for him.

Blueblood hummed, pleased. Ahrisham hadn’t tried to deny her involvement, making it all the easier for him. “Seize her.” He ordered with glee, his voice oozing with satisfaction.

“Wait, what…? No!” Twilight protested.

The two guards looked between themselves, then at Blueblood, Twilight, and finally Ahrisham, seeming uncertain.

Ahrisham didn’t flinch, though her magic faltered, letting the handkerchief slip from her face, revealing a dark cut still oozing blood.

“You heard your Prince,” Blueblood barked at the Royal Guards. “I want Lady Ahrisham detained and held accountable.”

“Blueblood! You… you can’t do that!” Twilight stomped her hoof in defiance.

“Oh, but I can - and I will. It’s well within my authority.” He said smugly. “Somepony has to be held responsible.”

Twilight sat on her haunches, folding her forelegs, her mane frizzing slightly as she fumed.

“The charges include but aren’t limited to: extensive destruction of the Zebrican sector, endangerment of lives, conducting dangerous experiments without permit in a populated area, resulting in…” He looked around. “How many injured?”

“Five.” Peach Sunrise replied.

“Five injuries.” He paused. “That’s sufficient to warrant imprisonment.”

Ahrisham, silent through Blueblood’s speech, winced at the mention of casualties. She was reckless and was now paying the price of it.

With the Prince's authority reaffirmed, the guards had no choice but to obey. They stepped toward the slightly trembling Ahrisham, urging her to come with them. She moved without protest, casting one cautious glance over her shoulder.

Her Saddle Arabian entourage, however, was far from pleased. Although they couldn’t speak or understand Equestrian, they knew well what it meant to be escorted out by armed guards. They burst into an uproar, first calling out to their lady in their melodic tongue. Whatever her reply was, it didn’t satisfy them. The air filled with the stomps of hooves and angry shouts. Some even gnawed on the hafts of their knives, as though preparing to fight. But Ahrisham’s commanding tone swiftly quelled them, her calm authority reminding them that now was not the time. Still, the fury in their eyes was unmistakable as they watched her taken away..

With Ahrisham led off, Blueblood and Twilight were left standing among the distressed Saddle Arabians.

“Well, I hope you’re happy now, Blueblood.” Twilight grumbled, her gaze following the guards and the arrested envoy.

“I assure you, I am positively ecstatic.” Blueblood’s tone held a hint of smugness. Was it petty? Certainly. But at that moment, he couldn’t resist indulging in it.

The unsettled foreigners seemed completely at a loss for how to proceed now that their only anchor in Equestria had been removed. They exchanged glances, murmured in their native tongue, and some even dared to look toward Blueblood. He paid them no mind - their problems were theirs alone.

Without so much as a glance back, he turned to leave. Twilight called after him weakly, but his mind was already occupied with less pleasant, though more pressing, thoughts.

And why was his hoof so itchy?

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Today’s crème brûlée was especially delicious in Blueblood’s mind. He spooned a bit and levitated it to his mouth, humming as the creamy treat melted on his tongue. A bit of sweet and sour aftertaste of a blueberry he crunched alongside excited his sense of taste! Oh, today he certainly would take a second serving of a dessert. He never asked for it, always mindful of his line.

“...seen the latest interview with Sapphire Shores?” A pony nearby whispered conspicuously loud. “She finally spilled some details about the colt paparazzi have been snapping pictures of for the past three weeks!”

“No!” Another voice gasped. “Where did you read it?”

“In Cosmarelitan!” The first pony replied enthusiastically, followed by the soft rustle of magazine pages.

“...quarterly report. Infrastructure spending shot up sharply with the Manehattan harbour expansion. If we don’t plug this hole soon, we may need to cancel the project.” Usurers' voice droned on, accented by the familiar click of his lips smacking. The sound made Blueblood’s ear twitch.

“Over my dead body,” another voice replied - gruff and itching to argue at the slightest provocation.

“Perhaps,” Usurers shot back with a smile one could practically hear. “Do you suggest another loan? It’s not as though we have many lenders left.”

At the far end of the table, Perplexity’s curly tail rose as she ducked under the cloth to retrieve spilled legumes, muttering apologies repeatedly to the mixed amusement and annoyance of the ponies around her.

As conversations merged into a steady hum, Blueblood filtered out the noise, letting it fade into the background. Only within the castle’s walls could casual gossip mingle with discussions of state affairs that impacted the lives of millions of ponies.

As he sat deeper in his comfortable chair, savouring the last traces of the crème brûlée on his tongue, Blueblood allowed himself a quiet moment to reflect. Ahrisham’s arrest had been more than a personal triumph. True, the satisfaction of finally putting that defiant mare in her place felt deserved, yet it was not mere vengeance that had guided him. No, her reckless actions had endangered lives, and the law was explicit on such matters. A spell gone awry could not simply be brushed aside as an accident without consequence. Had it been any other pony - diplomat or commoner alike - the law would demand accountability, and here, it was no different. This decision, he reasoned, upheld the principles of fairness and justice that he held above all else, ensuring that Equestria remained a place of order and accountability, even for esteemed foreign envoys.

“Ahm, my Prince.” A servant’s voice came from the left side, interrupting Blueblood’s tranquil and self-indulging thoughts.

Blueblood shook his head, turning toward the intruding pony. She was as plain as any Canterlot castle servant, with no notable features to set her apart. Holding back a biting remark about interrupting him during his meal, he gestured with a hoof for her to continue. He was in a good enough mood to show some leniency to his lessers.

“S-somepony wishes to speak with you.” She stammered, ears folding back against her skull. She added, in a near-whisper. “She says it is urgent.”

“Urgent?” Blueblood echoed with a lazy arch of his eyebrow. “Urgency is rarely a priority in my dealings. Tell this… whoever they are, that they can wait until I am finished.”

Almost as if out of spite, he prepared himself mentally for a third serving of dessert and perhaps a generous glass of wine or cognac. To aid digestion, naturally.

Blueblood heard the servant leave, her hooves clopping meekly against the floor. Perhaps she really had left someone waiting outside with an important matter? He shrugged. If it was truly pressing, they could afford to wait for his judgement. Meanwhile, why shouldn't he indulge a little longer? After all, it was the day of his triumph!

Humming, he lit his horn, his blue aura drawing the dessert platter closer. Conversations around the table began to die down, and soon enough, everypony’s gaze was fixed on him. A few excitable ponies even gasped as the Prince helped himself to a generous slice of saffron and vanilla custard tartlet.

Was the sight of Equestria’s only Prince taking yet another serving of dessert so remarkable? Apparently, yes. The thought amused him; it could spark a few gossips - Celestia’s reputation for baked goods was proof enough!

Blueblood paid them no mind, leaning back comfortably in his chair with his treat in front of him. He was about to take the first, delicate bite when…

A massive, purple serpent slithered onto the table, coiling comfortably and displacing platters and silverware. It locked eyes with Blueblood - its gaze golden, intelligent and unblinking. The snake opened its hood, revealing its amber underside, and flicked out its black, forked tongue.

Screams and shouts erupted in the Great Hall as ponies scrambled to their hooves, hurling plates and cutlery in their frantic retreat.

The serpent ignored them, its unsettling focus solely on Blueblood.

“E-easy there…” Blueblood managed to say, his voice shaking as a primal fear gripped him. In his eyes the creature seemed enormous, easily large enough to swallow a pony whole!

The beast did not react and instead moved its head closer, rising tall above the terrified Prince.

Just when the Prince thought his life was about to be snuffed out, a combative cry echoed through the hall. Lord Drustan and one of the royal guards had regained their senses and rushed to his aid. The guard wielded her standard-issue spear, while Drustan, lacking a proper weapon, had grabbed a sturdy silver platter; what he lacked in equipment, he made up for with raw fervour.

They charged at the serpent, each taking a different side of the table to distract the beast. The snake, however, was undeterred - turning its unblinking gaze from Blueblood, it aimed its intense stare at the guard. She halted mid-step, then fell to the ground, trembling. Its gaze shifted to Drustan, who either was too close for the spell to affect him or was too enraged to fall under it. With a loud CLANG!, Drustan struck the snake’s head with the platter.

The creature hissed, its maw gaping open to reveal two long fangs and rows of razor-sharp, hook-like teeth in the back of its mouth. Its fangs glistened with clear venom, droplets of which fell onto the table, marring the cloth and wood below.

Blueblood could only watch, paralyzed with terror. He wanted desperately to flee, yet found himself rooted in his chair, forced to witness the battle unfolding before him.

Before the fight could escalate further, a voice rang out - quiet, yet compelling enough to calm the serpent and stay the formidable Lord Drustan’s hoof.

“Cease this madness.” It was no request, nor even a plea, but a command, delivered in a silky-smooth tone that would allow for no argument.

As if entranced, everypony turned toward the voice. Even Blueblood, still frozen, managed to twist his head to see the source of such authority.

In the Prince’s view, the mare was unassuming, almost bland. She was tall, like other Saddle Arabians, with fur the colour of desert sand and a mane as dark as polished mahogany. Unlike her kin, she wore little - only loose wraps of fine cloth around her barrel and legs. Strapped to her left foreleg was a long, S-shaped dagger with a perfectly polished blade and an ivory or bone hilt. As Blueblood’s gaze lingered on her, he noticed tiny scars on her neck, like puncture marks. And her eyes… those golden, slit-pupil eyes - just like the serpent’s - unsettled him. They seemed to bore straight into him.

The Prince blinked in fear, and the illusion seemed to break. Her eyes were only a warm, deep gold, but they still seemed to peer into his very soul.

With a light hiss, the serpent slithered toward her. The crowd tensed as she extended her left foreleg, allowing the snake to coil around it, winding up her frame until it draped itself around her neck like a glistening, purple shawl. Its head rested near her ear, almost as if it were whispering secrets to her. Blueblood could have sworn he heard faint words in a strange, ancient tongue, just beyond the edge of his understanding.

“You told me you’d get me an audience with the Prince.” She murmured to the serpent, stroking its smooth, shining scales with one hoof. “But I did not expect you to make such a scene.”

The serpent did not speak, or make any move, however the mare reacted as if it replied, corners of her lips twisting in a smile.

“What is the meaning of this?” Drustan demanded, not so easily intimidated by the eerie magic. He stomped forward, still gripping the dented silver platter in his mouth - the indentation in the middle was a clear mark of where it had struck the serpent’s head.

The sand-coloured mare remained silent for a few moments, still stroking the serpent coiled around her. Her gaze drifted from Drustan to Blueblood and back again. “Suzu is willing to overlook this assault; Equestria’s ponies' ignorance is well-known to us.”

Suzu - the serpent in question - lifted its head from the mare’s neck, its unblinking stare fixed on Drustan.

The Constable, though momentarily halted by the snake’s intense gaze, held his ground. “... what?” He managed to mutter, just as the serpent and its enigmatic keeper shifted their attention back to Blueblood.

“Beings such as I rarely entangle themselves in the affairs of ponies.” The mare spoke again, taking slow, deliberate steps toward Blueblood. “But sometimes, it is inevitable. A strand to be untangled, a knot to resolve, a thick skull to be bashed in…” She regarded him with a long, scrutinising look, tilting her head from side to side. “Which one are you?”

Blueblood shared Drustan’s confusion, though his was tinged with indignation. Were all Saddle Arabians so ignorant and disrespectful, constantly forgetting their manners when addressing royalty? If it weren’t for the unnerving glow in Suzu’s eyes, he would have voiced his displeasure outright. Instead, all he managed was a small, pathetic croak.

He coughed, clearing his throat to regain composure. “If you’ve come here to beg for your master’s freedom, you may as well leave.” He kept a wary eye on Suzu, marvelling at how anypony could be so at ease with a snake coiled about them. “I do not negotiate with those who forget their place.”

The mare laughed darkly, shaking her head. “Your fate and that of Ahrisham are already entwined. There’s no need for me to meddle further.” Her smile was faint but knowing. “No, I am here to nudge you toward another path - which I already have.”

“You what?!” Drustan called out, outraged.

The mare offered no reply, not even a glance at the fuming stallion. Her gaze stayed fixed on Blueblood, silent judgement within it. He felt himself sweat under the weight of her stare, an inexplicable urge to look away but finding himself unable to.

“… What… what path?” He finally asked, a growing sense of unease gnawing at him.

Still, the mare did not answer. She turned instead, her steps soft yet deliberate as she disappeared through the servant’s door. Blueblood’s mind raced with the urge to call for guards, to have her arrested, yet he couldn’t summon the will. He let out a defeated sigh, sinking back into his comfortable chair. His eyes drifted to the saffron and vanilla custard tartlet before him, which somehow remained intact through the entire ordeal.

With a sudden flash of anger, he struck it off the table with a swipe of his hoof, watching it splatter across the floor. What had been a day of his triumph had soured, leaving only a bitter taste in its wake.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“… in my ledger. But the reports I have on hoof are… inconclusive.” Perplexity’s voice, sweet yet raspy, mused as she shuffled through a stack of papers, touching them with just the very tips of her clawed wings.

“How is that even possible?” Blueblood’s tone betrayed his annoyance, his frayed nerves starting to show. “You know everything that goes on in the castle!”

“Almost everything.” She corrected him, a small smirk playing on her lips as she skimmed another file.

They stood in what she called her office, though to Blueblood it was little more than a glorified janitor’s closet. A cramped, dim space, it was walled with row upon row of tall cabinets and shelves, all filled with records and secrets, files stacked high enough to make reaching the desk feel like navigating a maze. A couch with an EEA-style coat draped over one arm sat in the corner - likely for napping, he assumed. Almost no sounds from outside came through, making their breaths and shuffling appear louder than they really were.

He felt boxed in, while she moved with ease, seeming to know every inch of this cluttered domain. But he hadn’t come to comment on the decor or to argue. He needed information.

“I didn’t pay much attention to her, because…” Perplexity flipped the ledger towards Blueblood. It was open on page with ‘Saddle Arabian #17’. A surprisingly detailed charcoal portrait of the mysterious mare greeted him. “... she is completely unremarkable.”

Prince’s eyes scanned the scarce information contained in the file. There was nothing in it, not even a name - there wasn’t a single mention of the dangerous, pony-eating snake she seemed to keep as a pet. With a grumble, he tossed it back at Perplexity, who flailed her wings and forelegs to catch her precious ledger.

“Hey!” She growled. “Watch it! This thing is important.”

“Maybe.” He scoffed. “And yet it doesn’t have what I need. Heck - I learned more about this mare with my today's run-in with her than you throughout the entire week!” He berated her.

Perplexity’s ears folded back as she had no rebuttal to Prince’s words. She just cradled her ledger against her chest, casting her eyes down. “W-well…”

“Don’t give me that look.” Blueblood interrupted her. “I need everything you got on her - all the reports, including the most trivial notes. Maybe something slipped through.”

“With all due respect, my Prince, you don’t need to tell me how to do my job.” She muttered, biting her lower lip, her pronounced fangs showing in a faint pout.

“Apparently, I do.” He pressed, though he was quick to soften his tone. There was no point in antagonising her further, however satisfying it might feel. “You saw it yourself at dinner - there’s something off about her. And her snake…” He shuddered involuntarily, recalling those golden eyes staring down at him. “It’s no ordinary beast.” His voice dropped to a near whisper.

Perplexity clearly hated it, but with a resigned sigh, she muttered, “...fine,” and pushed her ledger deeper into the drawer before standing to retrieve notes on their target: mysterious Saddle Arabian number 17.

It took her several minutes to gather every scrap of information they had, and, to both her and Blueblood’s surprise, quite a lot of it existed. At least a hundred tiny notes, no larger than slips torn from a notebook, now littered the desk.

Blueblood picked up one at random. It had a date, time, location, and a single, concise line: ‘SA-17 in engaged conversation with Feather Touch (castle servant). Topics: weather, work, Cutie Mark/destiny. General small talk.’

“There are a lot of them.” He noticed, hopeful.

“Mhm… I didn’t even realise how many!” A voice came from behind a stack of boxes.

Finally, Perplexity emerged from the depths of her lair, cobwebs and stray notes tangled in her mane. She tossed a slim folder onto the pile, sending a few slips flying, though she didn’t seem to care.

“Phew!” She wiped her brow with a fuzzy fetlock. “That should be everything.”

Blueblood looked at the stack, humming thoughtfully. “Well… let’s get to it then.”

For the next four hours, they poured over the slips and pages of mostly useless observations. They were interrupted only once when a servant arrived with their lunch (lettuce, cheese, and tomato sandwiches with a pitcher of spiced tea).

Blueblood chewed his sandwich, scattering crumbs over the desk as he frowned at another note.

“Like I said.” Perplexity gasped after draining her tea, flicking her tongue over her lips. “There’s nothing on her. No dirt whatsoever. She’s never even slipped up once.”

“And that itself is suspicious.” Blueblood replied, dabbing his mouth with a napkin. “She’s a foreigner, yet she navigates the castle as if she’s lived here all her life.”

Perplexity gave him a pointed look. “Please, your Highness. I’m the paranoid one between the two of us, and I still can’t find a hint of anything unusual.”

“Then there has to be something we’re overlooking.” Blueblood argued as his tone grew sharper.

“Perhaps,” she mused, setting her cup aside with a yawn and stretching her wings as best she could in the cramped space.

Blueblood surveyed the mountain of notes before him. A hundred trivial notations, a dozen minor mentions in other files, and two full reports, one covering the snake incident from today - all adding up to nothing. It was too… innocent. The mare came and went freely, merely watching or making small talk with seemingly random ponies. A migraine began to pulse in his temples, and he rubbed them, eyes shut in frustration.

Then he noticed something.

“If there’s truly nothing on her.” he began slowly, gesturing at the heap of notes. “Why is there so much?”

“Well…” She sucked in a breath, glancing away. “You told me to watch their every move… so I did. That includes our Missus Mystery.”

Blueblood nodded; he had been very specific about monitoring the Saddle Arabians.

“Have any of the others drawn this much attention?”

“Hmm?” Perplexity frowned, thinking. “Off the top of my head, no…”

“Exactly.”

Her eyes narrowed as she caught his meaning, her other eyebrow lifting slowly. “...oh.”

They set to work comparing SA 17’s sightings to those of the others in Ahrisham’s entourage. Even the envoy herself had far fewer mentions within a single folder, compared to the stack of snippets covering the mysterious mare’s every movement.

That really put things into perspective.

“She… she was everywhere.” Perplexity breathed, as she started adding pins onto a map of Canterlot Castle, sorting them by date and time and connecting them with a web of red string. Blueblood realised that her map was much more intricate than the one given to him, showing hidden passages, peepholes, and secret entrances. Two of these led into his own chambers, and he made a mental note to have Lavender place some furniture to block them.

Blueblood’s eyes scanned the complex web they created, each pin showing where the mysterious mare was spotted. Some of the pins connected to those next to them, but more often than not the next sighting was in a completely new part of the castle! There was no pattern or reason to them, almost as the mare disappeared in one place just to appear in another.

That was a lot of running for only one week.

"She doesn’t follow any routine, yet she’s been everywhere.” Blueblood mused, nudging a piece of string with a touch of magic from his horn, causing it to slip free. Perplexity huffed, irritation flashing across her face as she moved to fix it.

“Yeah.” She murmured, tightening the string and testing it with the tip of her claw. “But I still don’t see the point - what is she after?”

“I don’t know.” He admitted. “But I intend to find out.”

They both fell silent, eyes tracing the map and scattered notes as they exchanged thoughtful hums. After a long, tense minute, Perplexity’s eyes lit up.

“There’s a very simple way to figure it out.”

“What do you mean?” Blueblood asked, blinking his weary eyes.

She gave him an amused look, a wide grin slowly spreading across her face.

“What…?”

“Ahrisham.” She replied with a smirk, the corners of her mouth twitching.

Blueblood just stared, blank-faced.

“Oh no.” He protested. “I didn’t go through the trouble of having her arrested just to confront her now.”

“Well, it’s the easiest and most direct way to get your answers.” She said, practically dangling the suggestion in front of him.

Blueblood took a deep breath, straightening as he assumed a formal tone. “Then, in that case, I command you to conduct an interrogation of Lady Ahrisham.”

Perplexity snorted. “Nuh-uh, not happening.”

“What? Why not?” He spluttered, stunned by the open defiance.

“She’s an envoy, remember?” Perplexity poured the last of the sugared cinnamon tea into her cup. “You might get away with a few questions, but a full interrogation?” She shook her head. “Nope.”

“But why not?” He pressed, planting both forehooves on the desk and scattering the slips of paper they’d so carefully arranged.

“If she complains about it to Princess Celestia…” Perplexity said with a raised brow. “It’s not going to end well for any of us.”

“What if she will be unable to tell…?” Prince proposed carefully, though his intent was clear.

“Blueblood!” Few ponies dared to call him out, fewer - use his name when they did. Perplexity apparently was one of such ponies. “I can’t simply make sompony so in the spotlight go quiet or ‘vanish’ like that.”

Blueblood grumbled, clearly unhappy with where this was heading. It seemed like he really had no other choice.

“So if you want answers, your Highness.” Perplexity said in a sly tone. “You’ll have to ask her yourself.”