“One more time. Run it past me one more time.”

“Mourne attacked Luna’s coltfriend. He’s currently under arrest pending charges of attempted murder, dereliction of duty, treason and anything else the Mistress can think to charge him with.”

Emberfire stared across his desk at Shadowstep. Hearing it again really didn’t make it sound any better. “Please tell me this was some sort of mental breakdown. Rogue magic? Was he wearing the Alicorn Amulet? Possessed by Discord? Something? Anything?”

“None of the above,” she replied, removing her helmet and setting it aside before running a hoof through her short-cropped purple mane. “As far as we can tell, he thought he was saving Luna from a scandal by trying to scare the earth pony off. He wasn’t having any of it so Mourne did what Mourne does and made it worse. Then he made it even worse by trying to justify himself to the Mistress.”

“I’m doomed,” Emberfire slumped in his chair and thumped his head down onto the desk. “She’s going to come back from Ponyville and fire my ass. If I’m lucky she won’t actually fire it out a cannon.” He rolled his head slowly from side to side. “What the hell was he thinking?”

“That he was doing what Night Guards do, Sir. He was protecting the Mistress.”

“Protecting her? From her coltfriend?” Emberfire lifted his head from the desk. “Celestia’s sainted tits, WHY? Like she gives a damn what the nobles say about her! So there’s a scandal! Big deal! None of them would dare say anything to her face for fear she’d turn them inside out or banish them to some soggy rock in the Northern Ocean. What did he think was going to happen? Rioting in the streets?”

Shadowstep hesitated for the briefest of moments. “I couldn’t possibly say, Sir,” she replied stiffly.

Emberfire glared at her, his lips pursed. He rose, circling around from behind the desk. “There’s something you’re not telling me,” he accused.

“Sir, Ember--”

“Save it. Everypony knows the two of you have racked up together in the past. I don’t care about the details, but it means you know more about him than I do and you might just have an idea about where he got this crazy notion from that Luna needed saving from anything.” He stepped up beside her, leaning in so close she could feel each heated, angry breath on her cheek. “If so, you’d better spit it out right now or I’ll have you busted down to latrine attendant before you leave this room. I am not bucking about, Shadowstep. Mourne has landed in the biggest heap of shit you can imagine and this is your one and only chance to make sure he doesn’t drag you into it with him.”

Shadowstep refused to meet his eyes, staring firmly at the wall directly ahead. The two had met in Emberfire’s private quarters, far away from any prying eyes or ears that might think about listening in. At first her request for privacy had confused him, but once she’d started talking he’d quickly come to understand. If word leaked out of Luna’s loss of control, of what Mourne had done, the cries for the Night Guard to be disbanded and Luna removed from power would be echoing round the spires of Canterlot before you could blink.

“It’s a private matter, Sir,” she finally grated. “You’d have to take it up with Mourne.”

“Oh, don’t you worry, I intend to. And in fact, while I’m thinking about this whole sorry fiasco, where the hell were you when all this was going on? Why did you leave your partner alone so that he could try and commit murder?” He paused a moment, his eyes narrowing suspiciously. “Were you in on it?”

"What?” Shadowstep stiffened in surprise. “No! Of course not!”

"Yet you left him alone long enough for him to attack the farmer. You broke the most basic rule, the one we beat into your heads the moment you set a single hoof on the training yard. You never leave your partner.”

Emberfire stepped back, then sighed as he trudged wearily back around his desk and slumped into his chair, staring down at the piles of paper strewn across it. “Either you simply disobeyed that rule, in which case you’re just incompetent, or you knew what he was going to do and did nothing, in which case you’re culpable. Either way you put me in one hell of a spot.”

Pulling a piece of paper out from the pile he scribbled across it, folded it and quickly sealed it with wax before pushing it across the desk to her. “You’re restricted to barracks until the investigation into this fiasco concludes. If I hear you’ve set hoof one outside of the grounds then you’re gone. If you speak to anyone else about what you’ve told me today, you’re gone. If I see you and Mourne so much as exchanging nods in the corridor, you’re gone. Do I make myself perfectly clear, Shadowstep?”

She bit down on her bottom lip till the tang of blood filled her mouth, her jaw clenched so tight that the muscles ached. She reached out to take the letter, tucking it under her wing before she slammed her hoof against her breast. “All Hail--”

“Don’t,” he interrupted her before she could complete the traditional Night Guard salute. “Just don’t. Get out of my sight.”

The air was thick with intrigue, just the way he liked it.

Oh, certainly, some ponies fell for that vapid persona he adopted in public, but the truth was that not even his supposed “Aunt” really knew what her nephew got up to when he wasn’t at court and that was the way he liked it. Confident he might be. Arrogant? Perhaps a touch, but he wasn’t so arrogant as to think he could knock heads with a Princess and walk away intact.

This was where his main business dealings were done, where he negotiated deals and gathered the intelligence that ensured his position. Outside the trappings of court, away from the prying eyes of his rivals. Very few knew this place existed but they knew that to receive an invitation showed they had caught the eye of powerful ponies.

“Raise,” he grunted, picking up his glass of whiskey and sipping from it, rolling the fiery liquid over his tongue before swallowing. He set the glass back down and pushed a stack of chips towards the center of the table. “Another five hundred.”

“Of all the…” The dark grey pegasus across from him threw his cards down on the table, biting back a further outburst as he leaned back in his chair, his hooves folded across his broad chest. “I fold. Damn your eyes, Blueblood. Nopony is that lucky.”

This particular individual was Lord Slate and that last deal had gone just the way Blueblood had planned. He didn’t need to cheat, not against him. The pegasus had a tell that was as blatant as a sunrise if you knew what to look for. Anytime he had a bad set of cards his wings rustled, just a little, barely enough for anypony to notice, but it was enough for him to exploit.

Ignoring the slight, Blueblood turned his head a little to face his other opponent. The pale pink unicorn mare hummed to herself as she tapped a hoof on the tabletop, staring unblinkingly back at him. Her name was Lady Amber, and she was something of an enigma. She’d been invited to the game through a friend of a friend after he had been informed she was somepony worth cultivating as a contact. Some basic research had informed him that she was from a moderately well-off noble family that mostly kept out of the intrigues of court. It wasn’t their wealth that interested him so much as the other rumours, that she had eyes and ears in all sorts of corners.

So far, though, she’d given little indication of having much to offer him beyond a pretty face. She had played carefully, conservatively, refusing to be drawn into the banter around the table, outlasting the other players till it came down to just the two of them facing each other across the pool of chips.

“Well?” Blueblood drawled. “Are you in or out?”

Amber glanced at her pile of chips, then back at Blueblood, her expression carefully schooled into a mask of polite indifference. “I seem to find myself a little light, but I’m not willing to concede just yet. Perhaps I can offer something else that might entice you instead?”

Ah, now she was starting to be interesting. This was far more like it. “Like what?”

“Information.”

Blueblood snorted and tossed his mane back over his shoulders. “I can find information anywhere. I have many ponies supplying me with that already. Just what are you offering that would make up for the deficiency in your stack, Lady Amber?”

“One of my contacts was in Ponyville yesterday,” she started and Blueblood had to hold back a surge of interest. That village. There had to be something about the presence of the Elements of Harmony that made it such a nexus for all manner of happenings both magical and mundane. “He returned with stories of an incident involving one of the Princesses.”

He was too wise to bother asking which one. Like a dealer tempting a mark with just a little taste of Salt, she wasn’t going to give him any more for nothing unless he agreed to her terms and if, ultimately, she actually won this round then she would likely leave with her titbit of information unspoken...unless he was willing to pay handsomely off the table.

“Interesting, but also potentially worthless,” he countered while he considered his options and the likelihood of her having the cards to beat him. “Let’s put this into some context, shall we? Are we talking about an ‘incident’,” he barely resisted the urge to make air quotes with his hooves, “such as somepony eating with the wrong spoon or an incident like a Changeling invasion?”

The unicorn lifted her wine glass with her magic to take a sip, gazing steadily at him over the rim. Lord Slate had left the table by now and, by standing order, only those playing were allowed within ten feet of the table. It was further wreathed in sound-deadening and privacy spells, all designed to ensure that anything discussed was privy only to those who had paid for the privilege.

“The latter,” she finally drawled as she set the glass back down. “But that’s all I’ll give you gratis, Prince. Are my terms acceptable?”

He lifted his own glass and tilted it towards her. “Acceptable. I take it you’re all-in then?”

“Indeed,” she replied, not a hint of stress in her voice as she pushed her chips into the center of the table.

Blueblood nodded and waited patiently as her horn glowed and Amber turned over each of her cards one by one. A pair of cups, and a high pair at that. The last three cards followed in short order and he nodded again. Three of a kind, a full house. A respectable showing, for sure.

Finishing the last of his drink, his own horn glowed as his cards turned over all at once and the hint of a smile vanished from Amber’s face as he revealed first the three of wands, then, taking his time to savour the moment, the four, five, six and seven. A straight flush.

“You knew,” she growled, her mask of impassivity cracking as she stared at the cards. “You knew you had me beaten.”

“Of course,” he replied, nodding to his servant who quickly stepped up to the table to collect his winnings. He would make sure they were taken care of appropriately; Blueblood didn’t like to bother himself with such mundane matters. Once the servant had withdrawn, his attention returned to the glowering unicorn mare. She really was far less pretty when she was unhappy, he mused to himself. “Now, to the matter of my less tangible winnings.”

Amber ground her teeth, but finally nodded. A deal was a deal, even if she still couldn’t quite shake the feeling that Blueblood had been cheating. “It turns out there was an altercation between one of the Night Guard and one of the local stallions…”

As she began, Blueblood was mildly interested. By the time she finished, he was fascinated. Lady Amber had certainly more than earned the right to be at the table this night.

There was now so much to consider, so many variables in play all at once. The introduction of the Night Guard to this situation opened up some intriguing new avenues that would bear further investigation if Red Tape’s own investigation failed to produce results.

Amber made her excuses and left him sitting alone at the table, gazing thoughtfully down at his hooves as he rolled a single golden bit back and forth between them.

How had it gone so wrong?

He sat on the hospital bed, staring out the small window in the door through which the helmeted head of one of the Solar Guard could be seen. His own armour and weapons had been stripped from him, confiscated while they considered what to do with him.

They’d come to him with the offer from the Element of Honesty, to work out a penance beside the farmer, to protect him and even educate him. Nonsense, foolishness of the highest order. He would rather have his wings taken from him than aid that fool in his quest to pursue his Mistress.

He hadn’t said that out loud, of course. Instead he had prevaricated, bought himself some time to think while he considered what his next step would be. The confrontation with the Mistress had been enough to near frighten his coat white. Speaking to her directly again was definitely not an option. The Night Guard knew the stories of Nightmare Moon better than anypony alive save for the Princesses and while some fools might talk about a return to the “glory days” the rest of them knew better. Nopony wanted to suffer the insanity of the Nightmare.

Luna’s Night Guard had stood with her during the Lunar Uprising, they had fought and died for her against the forces of the Solar Guard, paid the price when she was overthrown and exiled and still they stood by her and for her.

Why couldn’t he make Luna understand that every thing he did, every breath he took, was for her? The Night Guard had been his life since he was a colt, it was everything his kind aspired to, serving the one who had created them. His proudest moment had been that day when he swore his oath of service at the hooves of his Mistress, and yet now? Now there seemed to be this insurmountable chasm between them and he didn’t know how to bridge it. He wasn’t a diplomat or a politician, words didn’t come easy for him. He was a soldier and yet he was being told this was not his fight.

Resisting the petty urge to throw his pillow at the door he instead slipped down from the bed. The clattering noise of his hooves on the floor was enough for the guard outside to glance in the window to make sure he was still behaving himself. Mourne had to resist the even pettier urge to stick his tongue out at him.

Instead he turned to pacing back and forth, counting out the steps as he circled around the bed. There had to be a way. She wouldn’t listen to him so who would she listen to? Who could he go to that would understand and want to prevent Luna from making another mistake? Who else would only have her best interests at heart?

He stopped dead in the center of the room. It was so obvious. In all the world there was one pony Luna always listened to, one pony who would be able to get through to her. He had to get out of here, he had to see Celestia. Just one problem with that...he had to get out of the room first.

He quickly looked around and sighed. It was never going to be as easy as the Daring Do books frequently made out. There were no windows he could jump out of or conveniently pony-sized air vents he could squeeze through. No, the only way out of this room was through the door and the guard posted outside.

As quietly as possible he crept up to the door and peeked left, then right. No-one else in the corridor other than the guard and he’d made a rookie mistake, standing directly in front of the door instead of just off to one side. Mourne didn’t bother to check the door handle, he knew they wouldn’t have left it unlocked regardless of how green and inexperienced they might be otherwise. Instead he turned around, braced his forehooves against the floor, and bucked back with all the strength he could muster.

The hospital door didn’t stand a chance; the lock ripped from the housing as the door slammed outwards, hitting the unsuspecting guard in the rump and sending him sprawling headfirst into the opposite wall in a tangled heap. Before he could get his breath back, or even work out which way his legs were supposed to be pointing, Mourne was on top of him and one more swift kick ensured the hapless stallion wouldn’t be waking up anytime soon.

Quickly stripping the armour from the unconscious guard, Mourne strapped it on. He winced a little as it pinched around his barrel but the fit was close enough that it was unlikely anypony would notice or comment. As he removed the armour, the unconscious pony began to change, his white coat fading to brown as he was revealed to be a somewhat plain looking dark brown earth pony.

There was a reason all the Solar Guard looked alike, an enchantment laid into every set of their golden armour concealing their true appearance. What had started as a simple conceit of aesthetics had served a far more important purpose during the Lunar Uprising. By concealing the identities of the Solar Guardsponies, they ensured no one stallion could be singled out and targeted for assassination.

As he strapped the last piece in place he could feel his skin prickle as the enchantment took hold. He risked a moment to look in the door’s small window, finding a stoic white stallion staring back at him, his leathery batwings transformed into the feathery lengths of a pegasus.

He dragged the unconscious pony inside and laid him down on the bed before pushing the door shut and quickly standing to attention, making sure his body blocked the twisted and warped lock. He could hear voices echoing down the hall, somepony coming to investigate the loud bang of his hooves on the door.

Seconds later two white-clad nurses trotted around the corner, slowing a little as they found Mourne standing guard. After a brief look at each other, one of them trotted down to him. “Is everything okay here? We heard a loud noise. The pa--Er...the guard hasn’t tried to hurt himself has he?”

“No, Ma’am,” he replied crisply, staring directly ahead, never making eye contact with the mare. He knew she wasn’t really looking at him anyway, they never did. They saw the armour, the eyes and wings and they stopped paying attention. Night or Solar it was all the same. You were a Guard, not really an individual, and right now that was just the way he wanted it. “He kicked a chair into the door before settling onto the bed. I suspect he was just acting out.”

“Oh,” she paused, mulling that over for a moment. He could see the look in her eyes, her conscience nagging at her, and knew she wasn’t about to let him off that easily. “Well,” she ventured, “maybe I should just check on him to make sure he’s alright and didn’t hurt himself when he kicked it?”

He gave one little shake of his head. “Princesses’ orders, Ma’am. No-one is to see the prisoner at the moment. I’ll keep an eye on him and let you know if he needs medical attention.” He paused, then leaned in a little closer, his voice dropping. “Between you and me, I think he’s just sulking. Best not to give him any more opportunities to act out.”

“Oh,” she said again, glancing back over her shoulder to the other nurse who was waiting near the corner. The second filly simply shrugged, her expression one of bland disinterest, and the first nodded. “Well, just see if you can get him to keep the noise down, please. There are some genuinely sick ponies here who need their rest.”

“Yes Ma’am,” he thumped his forehoof to his chest in salute and the nurse giggled before trotting back to join her companion. As the two disappeared round the corner Mourne allowed himself a soft, shaky sigh of relief. After another minute had gone by without further interruption he squared his shoulders, nodded to himself, and trotted quickly towards the nearest exit. He had to get to Canterlot.

She tapped lightly on the dark, polished wood door with one forehoof. There was no reply from within. She gave it a moment, then tapped again, a little harder.

“We gave orders we were not to be disturbed!”

Celestia sighed and tapped lightly on the door again. Some things never changed, it seemed. “It’s me, Lulu.”

There was a pause. “We gave orders we were not to be disturbed!”

Celestia groaned and leaned forward to rest her muzzle on the cool wood of the door. “Lulu, please. Open the door. You know I’m not going to just go away.”

Just as she was beginning to think she would have to teleport in there, the handles glowed blue and the door opened to reveal the dark interior of Luna’s chambers. Stepping in, Celestia closed the door behind her and made her way across the room to the balcony where her sister sat, staring out towards the distant lights of Ponyville.

“I am not sulking.” Luna insisted before Celestia could say anything.

“I never said you were. You ARE sitting in the dark, though.”

“We are the Princess of the Night! The dark is our domain.” Luna grumbled, “The darkness allows a better view of the night."

Celestia settled onto a cushion next to Luna, joining her in silent contemplation of the horizon before casting her gaze upward to the starry sky above Canterlot. “A beautiful night as always, Lulu.”

Luna made a small disparaging noise. “It will suffice. My mind is elsewhere at the moment. My placement of the stars is not ideal and the moon was quite recalcitrant tonight until I realised I was placing her incorrectly. We had to have a little chat about that, she was rather put out with me.”

“Really? She was never very talkative when I was raising her.”

“You never really tuned in to the right, mmm, the right wavelength,” Luna stated. “I imagine it’s the same for me when I raise the sun. He works with me, but I never really have the same rapport as I do with the moon.”

Celestia nodded in agreement just as there was another knock on the door. Luna scowled at her sister, opening her mouth to bellow at yet another unwanted interruption but Celestia beat her to it.

“I took the liberty of having some coffee and biscuits sent up from the kitchens,” she explained as she used her magic to open the door and bring the tray through to them without the somewhat startled serving pony having to set a hoof inside the room. “I thought you might want something to drink.”

“A little late for you, isn’t it? You know you won’t sleep properly if you have coffee after sunset.”

“It won’t be a problem,” Celestia assured her, “and I know you’re not a fan of the teas I enjoy.”

“Tea should not be green,” Luna grumbled as she poured for the two of them, lifting the cup to her muzzle to inhale the scent for a moment before she took the first sip. When she finally spoke again, the words were slow and grudging. “The situation has grown complicated.”

Celestia sipped at her own cup, making a little face at the potent taste of the coffee before setting it aside and chasing the lingering bitterness away with a biscuit. She nibbled thoughtfully on it for a moment or two as she considered a response. She knew her sister well enough to know that what Luna needed now wasn’t empty reassurance or platitudes, she was wise enough to know just how much of a furore was likely to erupt once this became public. No, in situations like this it fell to Celestia to play the practical, level-headed one, to play her part as the elder sister. “How many ponies saw the transformation?”

“Enough to set tongues wagging,” Luna growled, venting her frustration on a biscuit and reducing it to crumbs with two quick bites. “I understand the rumours have already begun to spread through Canterlot. I am sure you can expect a bill from the nobles any day now calling for my removal from office.”

Celestia mmed softly as she added another spoonful of sugar to her coffee. “And what did Mac do when you changed?”

Luna blinked. That was not a response she was expecting, the question taking her off guard. “He was in the hospital. He did not see it at first.” She frowned in confusion. “I do not understand why--”

“But he came to you, didn’t he?” Celestia pressed on. “I hear he dragged himself out of bed and all the way to the front door when he heard the commotion outside. So, when he was there, when he saw not the filly but the Nightmare herself, what did he do?”

“He was concerned for me. He was the one to approach me before I lost control entirely, who spoke gently to me, to Luna, not to just the Nightmare. Between his intervention and the assistance of the Element of Generosity, we were stopped before...before things got any worse. Why? What does it matter how Mac responded?”

“Because more than anypony else, he will need to understand that the Nightmare is never entirely gone and that, well, sometimes you need help with that temper of yours,” Celestia gave a wry smile. This seemed to be a fairly common conversation lately.

“Can you blame me? For one of my own Guard to attack not only an innocent civilian, but one who is dear to me? I…” Luna trailed off and sighed softly, staring down into the inky black liquid that filled her cup. “Not even when I took a commoner for a lover when it was expected that we should wed within the noble houses, not even then has one of my Guard dared to do such a thing.”

“Have you spoken to Emberfire about it yet? I understand the other guard has been restricted to quarters while this is looked into.”

Luna shook her head. “Not yet. I know that Mourne remains at Ponyville while he considers if he wishes to take the offer that Applejack has made.”

“A surprising offer indeed,” Celestia added. “The residents of Ponyville never cease to surprise me with their willingness to offer second chances to those who would otherwise seem beyond redemption. Do you think he will take it?”

“He is aware of the consequences if he does not,” Luna snarled, her cup wavering in the grip of her magic. There was a loud crack and the porcelain split neatly down one side, only the grasp of her magic keeping the coffee from spilling all over the cushions. “Damn,” she muttered as she quickly levitated a new cup under the broken one to transfer the contents, setting the remains of the cup aside.

Celestia let the flash of anger pass without comment. “And what of Emberfire? I know he is your head of guard and it is not my place to ask, but I am curious as to how you intend to handle that.”

“Mourne was his choice to assign to Ponyville,” Luna grimly replied. “Emberfire is his commanding officer and as such is responsible for everything Mourne does while he wears the sigil of the Night Guard.”

Celestia hesitated, hearing the anger rising in her sister’s voice. “Perhaps he is, but there is no way Emberfire could have known this, or prevented it. Had Mourne shown any sign of resentment before now?”

“...No.”

“Had he given you or Emberfire any reason to think he would be anything other than a good and loyal servant of the crown?”

Celestia could almost hear Luna grinding her teeth now. “No.”

“Has Emberfire appealed for any sort of clemency for Mourne or tried to defend his actions in any way?”

“No,” Luna sighed, finally admitting defeat. “He has not. All he has done is twice request an audience with me. I...refused him till I could decide what I wished to do.”

“Then rebuke him if you must, Lulu, but do not be too harsh. Remember that there is nothing he could have done to prevent these events. Remember that he has served you well ever since your return, and there is nopony within the Guard who could have helped you shape them in the way he has.”

Luna didn’t reply, staring sullenly out towards Ponyville once more.

“Did you at least get to spend some time with Mac? I understand his injuries are not too grave.”

“Broken ribs, bruises, scratches and cuts. He will survive,” Luna growled, her mane and tail billowing restlessly. “He had planned for us to take a picnic together overlooking the town. Instead we had it within his hospital room. The food was as delicious as anything you would find in our kitchens here, though somewhat spoiled by the scent of antiseptic. Mac was…he was more concerned about my mood than his own injuries.”

Celestia smiled gently. “When will you see him again?”

“Tomorrow. I will go and ensure he is comfortable. Oh, your student has asked if I would be willing to assist her. Mac has been enquiring about magically enhanced healing and she is reluctant to attempt it without assistance.”

“Very wise of her,” Celestia nodded approvingly. “Magic-enhanced healing is a useful skill, indeed, but not one to be trifled with. It can be most taxing both for the one doing the healing and the one being healed. I did not realise she had made any particular study of that field of magic.”

“Who knows just how many books she has read in the Starswirl the Bearded wing of our library,” Luna observed dryly, then sighed and gave herself a little shake. “Thank you for the company, ‘Tia. I will be fine, honestly. I will see Mac tomorrow and hopefully by then Mourne will have made the right choice.”

“I’m sure he will have, Sister,” Celestia reassured her as she finished her coffee. “In the end I’m sure he really does just want what’s best.”