by Drakkanien
edited by a friend

Every party eventually fizzles out as the last of the guests drift away, leaving behind only the stragglers and staff to tidy up. This evening was no different. Prince Blueblood, the master of this very ceremony, had already departed, his exit the final cue for the remaining attendees to follow suit.

Now, only two ponies of note lingered in Canterlot’s Royal Gardens, finally allowed to drop the masks they had maintained throughout the night. The buzz of conversation and the scrutiny of important - or soon-to-be-important - eyes had dissipated, leaving behind a quiet stillness broken only by the faint rustle of leaves and the distant clinking of glassware as castle staff went about their cleanup.

Seated around a small, wrought-iron table, Neighsay and Perplexity sipped their respective drinks, exchanging subtle smirks and lingering glances. Their antics went unnoticed by the bustling servants, who were far too preoccupied fixing the aftermath of the soirée to pay any mind to two seemingly inconspicuous guests.

“It’s been such a long night.” Perplexity yawned, baring sharp fangs that gleamed faintly in the moonlight. The display might have unsettled a faint-hearted pony, but Neighsay did not seem to be bothered by it. She rocked back and forth in her chair, each sway eliciting a creak of protest from the ancient piece of furniture.

“Mhm…” Chancellor Neighsay mumbled, his usually focused eyes now heavy with exhaustion. His eyelids drooped, his energy almost completely spent. But as he caught Perplexity mid-yawn, a sly smirk curved his lips. His horn flickered to life, bathing the table in a soft orange glow. With a gentle snap, he closed her mouth shut.

“Hey!” Perplexity whined, her protest more playful than serious as she rolled her jaw theatrically, testing if it was still working as intended. “What was that for?”

Neighsay’s smirk grew, even as he kept his expression stoic, but his eyes carried subtle sparks of mischief. “You were about to swallow a moth.”

Perplexity let out a snort, a grin tugging at her lips as she resumed rocking in her chair, her bat-like wings shifting slightly against her sides. “You’re being silly again.”

Neighsay didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he chuckled softly, as he leaned back in his chair. His gaze drifted upward, drawn to the night sky. Despite the thick cloud cover, the stars of Luna’s poked out forming Celestial Crown, shimmering like scattered diamonds across the grey and black tapestry.

As Neighsay’s gaze drifted back down from the glittering stars, he was startled to find a pair of yellow eyes staring directly into his, far too close for comfort. He blinked, confused. At some point, while he’d been lost in thought, Perplexity had silently climbed onto the table, her movements so deft and soundless that even his keen senses had failed to notice.

“Uhm…” He stammered, instinctively leaning back in his chair, unsure of what had gotten into her this time. Before he could form a proper question, her head darted forward, and she pressed her lips to his in a light, fleeting kiss.

The contact lasted no more than a few seconds, but it was long enough to make his cheeks flush. A sudden, if wellcome, heat spread through his veins, he cursed his body’s betrayal of his usual stoic demeanor.

“You reek of brandy.” Perplexity teased as she pulled back, though she remained close enough that their breaths mingled in the cool night air. Her tone was light, but her mischievous grin left no doubt that she was fully aware of the effect she had on him.

“And whose fault is that?” Neighsay retorted with a roll of his eyes, quickly gathering what remained of his composure. He forced a laugh to mask his fluster, gesturing at the dark stain on his crimson coat. “You made me spill half my drink all over myself!”

“Oh, pfft.” Perplexity dismissed his complaint with a snort, her leathery wings shifting slightly as she adjusted her balance atop the table. The moonlight highlighted the delicate veins in her wings, adding an almost ethereal quality to her otherwise impish demeanor. “It worked, didn’t it?”

Neighsay narrowed his eyes at her, though the corners of his mouth betrayed the beginnings of a smile. “True…” He admitted begrudgingly. “Though I’m not convinced it’s a respectable method of extracting us from a conversation.” His gaze drifted back to his coat, where the strong aroma of spilled brandy clung stubbornly to the fabric. “Let’s not make a habit out of this.”

Perplexity responded only with a giggle, her fangs glinting in the faint light. With an effortless leap, she hopped off the table, landing gracefully on all four hooves. The movement was smooth and precise, a stark contrast to the exaggerated tipsiness she had displayed earlier in the evening.

Gone was the carefree, slightly clumsy partygoer she had portrayed mere hours ago. In her place stood the Royal Master of Shadows, always attentive, always watchful, always ready to spring into action at a moment of notice.

They went quiet for a moment, neither speaking even a single word, lost in their own thoughts.

“Do you think we managed to convince him?” Perplexity finally broke the silence, her voice barely above a whisper. The thoughtful pause between them had stretched on for too long now.

By ‘him’, she obviously meant their Prince.

“I’ve done everything in my power to be persuasive.” Neighsay replied as he cast one last, almost longing look at the nearly empty glass before him. After a brief hesitation, he shook his head and pushed it aside. He’d had enough for one evening.

“But will it be enough…?” Perplexity pressed, baring her sharp fangs briefly as she chewed on her bottom lip, an uncertain flicker twisting her typically confident demeanor.

Neighsay exhaled and shrugged in a dismissive manner.

“Yeah… I thought as much.” Perplexity muttered, dropping her ears.

“You know how stubborn Blueblood can be.” Neighsay retorted, his voice dropping to a near-whisper, as though the mere act of mentioning their Prince might summon him from the shadows. His eyes darted around the empty garden, scanning for any stray ears that might be lurking nearby. Seeing they were alone, he continued. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d swear his ancestry included a mule.”

A raspy chuckle escaped Perplexity before she could stop it. “So the rumors say.”

“Let’s not spread them further than necessary.” Neighsay warned with a soft laugh of his own. “He’s painfully sensitive about how others perceive him, despite his claims to otherwise.”

Perplexity nodded her head in a silent acknowledgment, though there was no hiding her fanged grin.

“We should be going.” Perplexity murmured softly, her voice barely rising above the quiet rustle of the garden and distant shuffling of servants. She stretched her leathery wings with a light flutter before tucking them tightly against her sides. A shiver ran visibly through her frame, her delicate evening dress doing little to shield her from the chilly mountain air of Canterlot’s nights.

Neighsay sighed as he rose from his chair. Without hesitation, he draped his crimson coat over her withers once more. “At this rate, it might as well be yours. You’ve already shed all over it.” He teased, plucking a few stray grey hairs from the inner lining of the coat and holding them up as evidence.

Perplexity let out a snort, the teasing earned a small, genuine smile. She eagerly accepted the well-worn cloak, pulling it tighter around herself and snuggling into its warmth. “Mhmn~” she hummed softly, her voice carrying a faint, playful note as her ears flicked forward in contentment.

The soft clicks of their hooves sounded gently against the stone pavement of the Royal Gardens as Perplexity and Neighsay left the scene behind. Perplexity’s ears swiveled instinctively, scanning for any signs of pursuit. The faint sound of their own hoofsteps reassured her - no one was following. When they passed through the grand castle doors and into the familiar corridors, she exhaled a small sigh of relief. The castle walls always felt safer, more predictable.

Her shoulders, however, remained tense. She couldn’t shake the habit of glancing back, her sharp eyes flicking toward every shadow and darkened corner. It wasn’t paranoia - she argued with herself - but vigilance, the kind of her role demanded.

“You’re doing that thing again.” Neighsay’s voice cut through, pulling her from the web of her own thoughts.

“Wh-what thing?” Perplexity stuttered, blinking as her glowing yellow eyes refocused on the Unicorn beside her.

“Staring right at me while being completely lost in your own head.” Neighsay smirked, a playful glint in his tired eyes. He bumped his shoulder lightly against hers. “And, for the record, you were about to walk into that wall.”

“I was not!” Perplexity shot back, her tone upset. She turned to glare at him, her reflective eyes glinting in an almost menacing way.

“Fair enough.” Neighsay chuckled, shaking his head as he lit his horn with a soft orange glow, casting light over the path ahead. “But you were close. Admit it.”

Perplexity huffed, pointedly ignoring him as they moved down the dim hallway. The flickering light of Neighsay’s magic illuminated their surroundings, casting long shadows on the polished stone walls.

They passed a cross-shaped intersection where four statues of rearing ponies stood at the corners, their stony gazes locked on the center of the corridor. As Neighsay’s light danced across their faces, Perplexity’s eyes narrowed. For a fleeting moment, she could have sworn the statues twitched, their expressions shifting ever so slightly.

“It’s just my imagination.” She muttered under her breath, blinking rapidly as she looked again. The statues were still - silent and unchanging.

“Hm?” Neighsay turned an ear toward her but kept his gaze ahead, his hoofsteps sluggish, if steady.

“Nothing.” Perplexity brushed it off with a small yawn. “I just think we could’ve done more to persuade him…”

“Stop that thought right there.” Neighsay interrupted, his tone sharper than usual. He stomped a hoof for emphasis, but the thick rug beneath them muffled the sound, robbing it of its intended weight. “We made our attempt. If somepony doesn’t want to be convinced, there’s no use trying to force it. It won’t work.”

Perplexity tilted her head, her expression thoughtful. “Isn’t that what you do all the time, though?”

Neighsay hesitated for a moment, the faintest smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Well… yes. But only because I know where to apply pressure.” His voice softened, taking on a more conversational tone. “I find the right leverage. That’s how you ‘ease’ negotiations.”

“You’ve enlisted my help for that plenty of times,” Perplexity noted, her lips curling into a sly grin.

“And you’ve been remarkably good at it,” Neighsay admitted with a nod. He couldn’t deny her usefulness - nor her knack for uncovering what others tried to hide.

“What’s stopping us from digging for some royal dirt on Blueblood, then?” Perplexity asked, her tone turning mischievous as she brushed a strand of her purple mane out of her face.

“A few things, actually.” Neighsay replied quietly, exhaling through his nose. “First and foremost, he’s a vengeful stallion who loves holding a grudge. Isn’t this entire mess happening for that exact reason?”

Perplexity nodded her head in agreement, dipping her ears slightly.

“But most importantly.” Neighsay continued. “He’s our Prince. Not some external party we can pressure or maneuver to get our way.”

Perplexity’s eyes sparkled with mischief as she quipped, “It’s not like rank has ever stopped you before, Mr. Chancellor. You handle both internal and external affairs with that silver tongue of yours~”

“Pah!” Neighsay scoffed, rolling his eyes. “There’s a difference between pressuring some overly ambitious noble or a meddling diplomat and trying to blackmail your own Prince. Especially one as petty as Blueblood.” His gaze flicked toward her with a knowing smirk. “And without a strong enough hook to keep him in check, his wrath would be unavoidable. A nosy mare like yourself knows it best.”

Perplexity flared her nostrils in a theatrical manner, as if to prove his point.

“Exactly.” Neighsay chuckled lightly, though his tone grew more somber. “No, I’d much rather sleep soundly at night without knowing secrets of such magnitude. Some lines aren’t worth crossing.” He bowed his head slightly, a clear gesture to signal the end of the topic.

“Oh, fine…” Perplexity moaned in mock defeat, stretching slightly, letting out all manner of cutesy sounds. “But that still leaves us with a stubborn Prince who refuses to clean up after his own mess.”

“You don’t have to remind me.” Neighsay grumbled, betraying his own fatigue. “My office has been trying to smooth over the feathers he ruffled for weeks now. But after tonight…” He shook his head with a sigh. “I feel like I’m completely out of arguments.”

“That will definitely upset Celestia.” Perplexity remarked, her tone teasing.

“Princess Celestia.” Neighsay sharply. He followed it with a long sigh, his shoulders sagging slightly as the weight of the situation clearly had an adverse effect on him. “But you are right - she won’t be happy.”

Perplexity tutted softly as they neared the ornate doors to her chamber. Like every other member of the Royal Council, she enjoyed the privilege of residing within the castle’s luxurious suites. Most council members took full advantage of this convenience, save for Seneschal Usurers and Constable Drustan, whose duties often took them far from Canterlot and into the distant corners of Equestria.

As they reached her door, Perplexity raised a hoof to push it open, but then paused, her eyes narrowing slightly in thought.

“I think…” She started in a low voice, as she glanced at Neighsay from the corner of her eye. “... there’s still a way.”

“Hm?” Despite the weariness, Neighsay’s ears perked up, tilting toward her.

Perplexity’s lips curled into her signature smirk, the kind that always made ponies wonder just what was going in her head. With an almost feline grace, she pushed away from the door, her previous lethargy giving way to renewed energy. “I know just the pony for the job!”

Before Neighsay could ask for clarification, she began walking with purpose. Her stride quickly turned into a trot, and then, with a powerful flap of her leathery wings, she took to the air, disappearing into the dimly lit corridor ahead.

Neighsay stared after her with a mix of confusion and curiosity. But the only response he got was the faint rustle of wings as her silhouette melted seamlessly into the darkness.

He stood there for a moment, processing her sudden burst of energy. Finally, with a tired sigh, he shook his head. “That mare never ceases to baffle me…” he muttered under his breath.

Seeing no point in chasing after her, the Chancellor turned and began heading toward his own suite. It had been a long day, and whatever scheme Perplexity had in mind, it could wait until morning.

“Damn it!” He cursed under his breath. “My coat… I will have to order another one. Again…”

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Perplexity’s wings carried her silently through the darkened halls of Canterlot Castle. The shadows seemed to part for her, wrapping her in a familiar embrace as she flew through the twisting corridors. The faint glow of her yellow eyes allowed her to see the path ahead and avoid any obstacles.

Her destination loomed ahead - a tall, intricately carved door bearing the crescent moon and stars of Princess Luna’s emblem. Landing softly on the polished floor outside, she folded her wings neatly against her sides and adjusted her mane with a flick of her hoof.

Despite being on familiar terms with the Princess, she still felt a little nervous.

Taking a deep breath to steel herself, Perplexity rapped a hoof against the door.

Author's Note

Another (2nd) intermission!

Yes yes, I know - I should focus on the main story instead, but these little things were bouncing around my head and there was no room for them in main chapters. They were too long and required perspective shift from Blueblood's PoV.