In The Line of Duty

  Captain Permafrost entered the throne room, not quite late, but with a petitioner already midway through a speech. Said petitioner was, as Permafrost instantly noted with dread, was Prince Blueblood, one of the few members of royalty he disliked. Another thing noted was the subject of his speech, asking for an advance in his "budget" so he could build his own wing on Canterlot Castle, as well as be able to privatise the wing for his own use. As the Captain made his way to his place beside the now single throne, he had to hide a smile at the opposite end of the speech. Princess Luna, Mare of the Night,  Duchess of the Moon, could not look more bored. Here eyes were half closed but he noticed them staring at the Prince's hooves, or rather the tiles around them. Tile watching, as those who noticed it called it, was something reserved for only the dullest, dumbest, or otherwise prolonged petitions. Blueblood, who had been in the Night Court alone 4 separate times, had earned it on all occasions.

  After taking his place, Permafrost was forced to listen to another 5 minutes of the Prince droning on about how it would benefit the castle and it wouldn't cost much. What brought an actual reaction from his superior was Blueblood commenting that it would "boost his productivity and work ethic, making him better at his job."

  "And what, exactly, do you do for a job here, nephew, besides lounging around the castle and flirt with the mares that really are apart of the royal staff?" Luna asked, breaking her silence.

  "Why, I am a well distinguished diplomat, of course." Was Blueblood's response, every bit dignified, despite being false.

  "Where were you last sent then, if you don't mind me asking, diplomat?" Came Luna's near instant counter, with genuine curiosity.

  "Ahem, Stalliongrad, of-of course."  Blueblood answered, fast, albeit shaky. At the sound of those words Princess Luna turned to Permafrost with a raised eyebrow. With that signal the Captain cleared his throat then spoke in a harsh yet somehow eloquent language, known as gradian, or stalliongradian, to be precise, with "Cantrerlot" at the end. Of course Prince Blueblood, being a royal knob-head, didn't know a single word of it.

  "It seems you have been lying, nephew. Anyone who's taken a high school class of Gradian would know the translation to be 'Liar, you've never left Canterlot.', which is the truth. As you have no real reason for it, I decline your request of an advancement in your allowance. Please return to your perfectly sized bedroom." Luna near-demanded, ending the conversation. Blueblood left with a huff and an upturned nose.

  "How is he related to you and Princess Celestia? I don't believe I've ever asked." Permafrost asked the indigo alicorn, who was shuffling some of the papers on a small stand usually brought out for both the night and day courts

  "Oh, I don't know, some great grandson of a foal my sister adopted? Certainly not blood related, I hope. We have 4 more appointments through the night, two of which seem simple, one appears to be an admirer with a cute little poem, and the last I can't tell. Something about a pledge."  The Princess answered, sounding not even mildly interested.

  As Luna had said, the proceeding appointments went fairly smoothly, one being about a concern of timberwolves sighted stalking around in the night in northern Everfree, another asking about star watching conditions, and the poetic suitor who was assured that Princess Luna was not looking for a relationship at the time, but was thanked for the poem nonetheless. Then came a trio of stallions in hoods and cloaks who proclaimed their love of the night and pledged themselves to Luna as a part of a "New Lunar Republic". To them the Princess gave a verbal lashing for their brashness, and "Not choosing a more intelligent way of showing their dedication." The Night Guard was aware of these fan(atic)s of Luna, and discouraged the ponies in question to get appointments whenever possible. This was a case where none of the guards had noticed until the trio appeared for their appointment. Unfortunate for them.

  After Luna had finished thrashing the poor stallions, it came time for her to resign to her quarters to go over routine reports. However, that would be if this was a regular night. But as both the Royal Guards and the Princesses they serve had learned, no night with a mischievous draconequus around is ever regular.