Seingalt. That place was a lifetime away. Before I lived in Canterlot I had been raised as a Chevalier. Born from Canterlot nobility I was never truly considered a pony of Cheval. I mean just imagine it. You hear names like Lance Du Lac, Le morte d’cristo and Le fey. Names that permeate with destiny and fate and legend, and then you hear your own, a derogative idiom for living the high life... FancyPants.

But I lived there, had a childhood and became a stallion in a way that was all too fast now that I look back. Son to the ambassador of Canterlot I was raised strictly and instructed to forever be polite and courteous. For diplomatic reasons, I had to live without passion and as a result no true amount of joy. Seingalt for its entire claim to being the heart of Cheval, to being the city of love, it was in actuality as loveless as it could get. Ponies were married away like political playthings and then ravished like spoils of war. And then later live out empty lives as your purpose producing heirs had passed. If anything Seingalt was a city of the most depraved of sins, where the body held as much value as the purest gold. This lead to no ending amount of sordid affairs that no quantity of reporting and exposing could halt. It was in the culture, the voracious lust of the powerful were free to be as depraved as they wished. And their playthings condemned to fates they would never wish upon anyone they loved.

No one at all.

There was only one mare I knew to ever be known as Lala. Born as the sole heir of the dukedom of Seingalt within the region of Cheval, she was seen as one of the most important ponies in the land. She was a prize to be had, a being of true perfection to even rival Celestia’s own divine grace. She had beauty unparalleled, intellect most envied and riches lustfully coveted. Knowing her fate was to be the mother of the newest leader of all Cheval, the old duke of Seingalt named her only as “La Mere.”

She hated that name. Her birthright, her existence and eventual destiny, believing for the longest time that all she lived for was a purpose she couldn’t choose. And for that dark despair, that enticingly deep sadness where any other mare would find herself the happiest in the land, I loved her with all of my heart.

For in her, we knew to be kindred in spirit deep down.

I first met her as a young colt who knew nothing about loving a mare. I thought nothing of her at first. But in the shadows my strings were being pulled. I was coaxed to always coincidentally bump into her and we made small talk and shared jokes that we pretended were funny for the sake of diplomacy than any real sincere cordiality.

Eventually all that talking got personal, our defences came down and slowly we confided in each other. We shared all of our firsts and together we laughed and cried, almost as if we were meant to.

And then one night, it was decided that we had to part.

I didn't understand until much later. My father had been trying to have me seduce the heir of Seingalt. In doing so, Canterlot would have absolute control over yet another domain that annexed itself into the kingdom of Equestria.

La Mere would defy her father and choose me as her husband and I would rule the city of love.

But my father was a fool. The powerful make the rules and if they so wished, remake them to suit the new situation. No amount of scheming would dethrone the Chevalier from their birthright, not even an agent of a goddess.

However, the deed was done. Machinations of a conspirator or no, I loved La Mere and she loved me with all her heart.

For the last night, as if it were the last of our lives, we made love like tomorrow would never come.

We said no goodbyes in the morning.

Only exchanging a single phrase instead, words that transcended everything we held dear and all that would force us to let go.

In joy and in sadness.

“La petite mort.”

Author's Note

Just to clarify La mere. Means the mother.

I entertained the idea Ma mere instead so that Lala would call her mother Mama. But that'd sound weird if fancy called her it. weird enough that he refers to her as mother at all.

And yes mere is homophonic to mare. There's that too.

Also Chevalier du Seingalt is the fake title Casanova used to sneaked into royal courts.