Damn you, Eris. Damn you straight to the lowest imaginable pits of hell, you unbelievably vicious, nasty...!

William let out a nervous breath, blowing a strand of hair from his face. Sweat seemed to be collecting on him in an unexpectedly uncomfortable manner, and a cool breeze wafting through the castle’s hall tickled the back of his neck. Surely this was more of Eris’s idea of his punishment than her ‘prize’.

“Ain’t got all da~ay,” Eris hummed in a singsong tune just behind him. William released another contemptuous breath, bare feet padding over the shined floors as the draconequus marched behind him.

“Yes, fantastic,” he growled, although his voice was a little croaky from how tightly his chest seemed to be constricting from the panic. “This is so stupid, Eris.”

“That just makes it funnier,” she sniggered, doing little to stifle her noise. “Come on, it’s not such a big deal. It could be worse, you know.”

William shook his head as he crept down the hallway, keeping as close to the stone walls as possible. He was already tempted to make a run for it and hide in the nearest place that he could find, somewhere that he could calm down and focus. Eris didn’t seem to be having any troubles of the sort, and it only served to infuriate him further.

“It isn’t funny. It’s stupid. It’s so, so stupid Eris oh god I can’t believe I’m actually doing this.”

Eris shushed him, biting her own lip to force her giggling down as she too began to sneak along the wall.

“Ready?” she nodded toward the open doorway ahead, nearly dancing back and forth with anticipation.

“I swear, Eris, I am never speaking to you agai-”

“Ready?” the draconequus pushed him forward, and William swallowed the words along with his pride. It was no easy feat, and he felt them stick in his throat on the way down as he held his head high and marched straight toward his certain demise.

Trimming absentmindedly took a long draught from her midday tea, letting the very faint flavor of cinnamon swill over her tongue for a moment. The clink of her saucer muted the sound of crinkling paper as she wordlessly packed away the files, a pleasantly warm breathe of summer air finally drifting in through the open window behind her.

Lilac Blossom – employment terminated on grounds of disobedience. Location unknown.

Rain Dropper – employment terminated on grounds of disobedience. Location unknown.

Copper Shoe – employment terminated on grounds of disobedience. Location unknown.

Amethyst Banks – employment terminated on grounds of disobedience. Location unknown.

Velvet Slipper – employment currently questioned.

Trimming latched her desk drawer shut, loose letters shuffling over her files. She closed her eyes and took another breathe over her cup of tea, letting the scent drift up to her nose before finishing it off. It was so rare that she got to relax in a place that demanded her constant attention, and she felt a momentary sliver of sympathy for the princesses. But it didn’t last long – after all, when was the last time she had seen Princess Celestia clean up anything?

She frowned slightly, calmly sliding her cup and saucer to the side to complete her paperwork. She then picked it back up idly, toying with it in one hoof. It wouldn’t be much longer before the Velvet filly was off of her employment roster, just like the other replacements. There had been too much stress lately, too many problems with the uppity brat. Constantly asking question after question, always being a nuisance. But a nuisance she could handle, what she couldn’t handle was-

Trimming’s thoughts were rudely interrupted by the sound of a loud squawk, which made her nearly jump out of her seat in shock.

“SQUEAK SQUEAK I’M A MOUSE!” William bellowed in her face, even leaning over her desk as he held up his fingers over his head to form a couple of imitation mouse ears before promptly spinning on the spot and streaking absolutely stark naked out of her office, nearly tripping over himself in the process.

It was followed by a bout of hysterical laughter and the patting of footfalls, and then silence.

Missus Trimming was still staring at the doorway, mouth hanging agape when she finally dropped her saucer with a loud crack to the floor.

She wasn’t just going to pummel him; Rainbow Dash was going to break Filthy Rich’s face off.

Rainbow Dash let slip an almost steady stream of foul words, each of which were torn from her lips the moment they passed. The ground below morphed into a slushy green blur as she tore through the sky, her target soon appearing on the horizon.

The high brick walls of Rich Manor loomed in the distance, clawing the sky like thick, dirty fingers. All that filled her mind was a profound rage, powering her hell bent fantasies of just what she was going to do to the sick stallion once she got her hooves around his disgusting neck. Dash’s hooves were already clenching and unclenching, like she could strangle him from a distance. However, her hooves met nothing but wind resistance, and she pressed onward.

The fires burning deep within fueled her, and pressured her to blast through the air like a bullet. Rainbow Dash skidded when she landed, kicking up dust and galloping straight over the grassy and well kempt lawn of the manor. She hardly even slowed, wings pumping just as hard as her strides as she bounded right up to the large, slightly intimidating double doors beneath the masterfully carved awning.

Bang!

Dash’s hooves slammed hard into the doors, and she shoved them viciously as the coolness of the manor drifted over her. She didn’t even slow to allow her eyes time to adjust properly.

“Filthy, you motherFUCKER!” Rainbow Dash screamed so loudly that she thought her voice would go hoarse, every muscle in her body as tight as piano wire. “Where the FUCK are you!?”

“Missus Pots,” she heard the slightly concerned sounding drawl of Filthy Rich emanating from somewhere off to the right. “It’s not that Miss Top again, is i- oh, hello.”

Filthy blinked up at her as she stomped angrily toward the dining area, where the tan stallion sat holding a newspaper over an open briefcase at the opposite end of the table. A half-filled glass of ruby colored wine sat directly before him, along with its mostly filled emerald glass bottle. Like he hadn’t even done anything wrong, Filthy just stared at her in dim surprise, as if she were only a mildly interesting sight that was distracting him for a bare moment. The sight only made her even more furious, and Rainbow Dash’s hateful scowl etched itself more deeply onto her face.

“Can I… help you?” the stallion blinked again, the top corner of his newspaper drooping slightly.

“Eat shit and die you sick son of a bitch.

“Sorry, what?”

The words were hardly out of his mouth before Rainbow Dash had crossed the distance between them. No sooner had he had the chance to even blink that her hoof met his face – once, twice, three times. She struck him again and again, and Filthy kicked wildly to drop away from her. Dash stomped one of his legs savagely, incoherent shouts that didn’t even penetrate his ears as she stomped hard on him. Filthy yanked away, making a mad grab for the bottle-

Rainbow Dash beat him to it, violently punching him in the left eye. Filthy dropped with the pain, crying out as he was kicked over his own upturned chair. Another malicious timed kick found its way to his chest, the next few raining down on his poorly protected stomach and beating the air out of his chest. His vision spun wildly, and Filthy strained to pull himself away from the maddened mare. The sound of shattering glass filled the air, and almost instantly Filthy found himself powerfully slammed against the wall as the jagged end of the broken bottle began jabbing forcefully against his throat.

Hardly had it even begun to draw blood that it was torn away, his gasping breath silenced by the screeching of one of the housekeepers.

“Get the hell out of my way!” Rainbow Dash screamed, brandishing the broken bottle like a sword at the aging mare that stood protectively over Filthy’s battered form.

“Rainbow Dash?”

Her head whirled toward Scootaloo’s voice, who stood in shock and terror just in front of an equally horrified Diamond Tiara.

“Scootaloo!” Dash breathed, a hint of relief in her voice that the filly seemed to be relatively unharmed, but thoroughly upset. “You get out of here, I’ll take care of this sack of shit.

“Then you go through me!” Missus Pots bellowed furiously, and Dash even started to raise the bottle before she was cut off by Filthy Rich’s cough. Rainbow Dash was equally surprised to see Diamond Tiara zipping in panic to her father, Scootaloo close behind.

“Scoots!” Rainbow Dash shouted more intensely, slowly lowering the toothed edge of the broken bottle as it began to fall from her hoof. “I told you to get out of here!”

“What is wrong with you?” Diamond Tiara balked in dismay at Rainbow Dash, who was slowly developing a queasy feeling in the pit of her stomach.

“Why?” Dash’s eyes narrowed suspiciously, flicking between them all. “Did he get you, too?”

“… What?”

“Don’t lie to me!” she stamped, reaffirming her grip on her makeshift weapon, the worn old maid’s eyes never leaving her as she tried to help the coughing stallion to stand. “I know he’s been abusing you, just like he did my son!”

Even Filthy Rich managed to stop his shabby wheezing long enough to recoil and finally stare at her.

“That,” his eyes narrowed sharply as his stance became more resolute. “Is a dreadful and outright falsehood.”

“Don’t lie to me!” Rainbow Dash jabbed the bottle at him again, anger boiling in her chest. “I’m not fucking stupid, I saw the marks!”

“… Oh, buck.”

This time, the exclamation came not from Filthy Rich, but from the stunned Diamond Tiara. The stallion was very silent for a long stretch, before he finally turned his head weakly to look at her.

“Diamond Tiara?” he asked quietly. “Is there something that you would like to tell me?”

“It’s-it’s all my fault,” she breathed shakily, a haunted gleam hanging over her face.

“It’s not abuse!” Scootaloo defended in a panicky tone, holding up her hooves. “It’s not, I swear – just, just-just-just, aw, geez! Rainbow Dash, please – oh, please, but that down…!”

Rainbow Dash looked back and forth between the fillies, her mind abuzz as the rage silently began subsiding, leaving only a very confused, sickened feeling clawing at her belly.

“Oh. Ohhhh, dear,” Filthy sighed wearily, cupping one of his black eyes with his spare hoof, the other leaning tenderly on the supporting weight of Missus Pots. “This is about your mother, isn’t it Diamond Tiara?”

The filly blushed deeply and her mouth opened and closed a couple of times, but she said nothing.

“That’s what I thought. After this, you and I are going to sit down, and then we’re going to have a nice, long heart to heart. And you’re going to be completely truthful with me this time, along with your… friend. Understood?”

“Y-yes daddy.”

“I-I-I don’t…” Dash shifted back and forth uneasily, the broken bottle gently slipping from her grasp as the weight of the situation at last began crushing her.

“Miss Rainbow Dash,” Filthy cleared his throat loudly, straightening up. The housekeeper released him instantly as he stood, and even though he was clearly injured and bleeding from several small cuts, he stood just as tall and firmly as he had before. “I would suggest that you remove yourself from the premises immediately.”

By this point, the color had all but drained from the pegasus’s face, and she nodded hazily before retreating from whence she came.

Nopony moved an inch. It was uncomfortably silent for a long moment before Filthy Rich sighed again.

“… Damn shame. Knew I should have saved that bottle for tomorrow. Good year.”

“Though I don’t suppose you would care to,” the guttural but commanding voice of the griffon across from her rolled through the air.

“You’re quite right again, Gestalt. How very observant of you,” Princess Celestia complimented him without a hint of sarcasm. His beaked scowl showed that she might as well have, and his furrowed brows dug deeper onto his elongated face. The Griffonian emperor’s already foul expression marring his dark, intimidating features that hanged on his face in a manner that strongly reminded Celestia of a gallows; he was certainly gloomy enough, even if nearly everything about his surroundings seemed to be actively resisting his disconsolate attitude. Celestia had even personally picked the doilies for their little teatime chat.

Oddly, the Griffonian emperor didn’t seem to notice much at all this time.

The heavily armored griffons to his either side shared an uncomfortable look when their ruler’s silence grew even longer, his dissatisfied expression blatant on his face.

“… Fine,” the gloomy griffon finally spat, anxiously rising as his guards followed his lead. “You will have it, should you uphold your end of the bargain. But neither I nor my province shall be held responsible for your… excursions, Celestia.”

“Completely understandable,” she calmly lifted her alabaster wings into a tighter position and stood with him. “You have my word, Emperor Gestalt. Same time next week, sugar beak?”

Gestalt met her transparently false enthusiasm with an equally powerful frown, and against all odds, his face somehow managed to stretch even further into an angry position. Even one of his guards looked a little put off.

Instead of speaking, Emperor Gestalt merely lifted the hem of his gilded traveling cloak with a few muttered curses, heading proudly toward the exit of Celestia’s meeting room. He never could stand the stench of chamomile tea. However, no sooner had his talons wrapped around the door handle that the double doors themselves were blasted wide open, and Gestalt was nearly bowled over by what appeared to be the most enormous, nigh hairless upright mouse that he had ever seen.

“SQUEAK SQUEAK SQUEAK SQUEAK SQUEAK!” it shrieked, completely knocking him over and instantly retreating in the same motion, the high pitched piping carrying on back down the mammoth halls without pause. So great was the Emperor’s shock and surprise that for approximately four seconds, all he could do was gawk after what was, quite possibly, the first ever account of assault by giant mouse that he had ever encountered.

“… What are you waiting for, idiots!?” he bellowed furiously at the two tan griffons flanking him, who had been staring just as much as he had as the ‘mouse’ continued its escape.

“May I?” Celestia stepped forward, halting the guards. It was almost impossible to tell, but from the twinkling gleam in her eye, one might almost have suspected that Princess Celestia was desperately trying not to laugh.

“After you,” one of the Griffonian guards blurted, earning a filthy look from their emperor as he struggled to stand. Celestia wasted no time in trotting eagerly after the apparently rogue William, the sound of Gestalts obscenities ringing in her ears long afterwards.

William bolted as fast as he could down the hallway, hiking up his legs and darting even faster when he heard the steps coming after him. He soundlessly cursed Eris with every single foul word he could think of, bare feet padding over the cold floor as he rounded another corner in the desperate hopes of avoiding his pursuers. Eris herself seemed to be long gone, already having cruelly abandoned him to his fate.

This only made William even angrier. His skin burned at her actions, although he really should have anticipated it. Regardless, there would be words with Eris the moment he got his clothes back.

Or blows, considering the circumstances.

“There you are!” Trimming’s powerful hoof grappled him sharply around the neck, halting his sprint. William silently scolded himself for losing himself in thought in the middle of an attempted evasion, heart still lodged in his throat as his anger was swiftly replaced with a jolt of fear.

“Oh god I’m so sorry it wasn’t my idea!” William blurted out all in one gust, desperately straining to catch his breath.

“Glad I caught you alone,” her golden eyes narrowed, her grip not loosening in the slightest. “I’m going to start with the easy one. Do you mind telling me why you’re not in uniform?”

William’s cheeks slowly began turning a ruddy red, and he shifted uncomfortably in the mare’s grasp before muttering something about Eris.

“I didn’t quite catch that,” Trimming stated quietly, cupping her hoof over her ear. “What? Do you really want attention from me that badly?”

“I-what?” William blinked, clasping his hands together and trying to cross his legs in a more efficient manner.

“You know, all you had to do was ask. I’m not completely heartless,” she rolled her eyes, one hoof slowly sidling up his back and nudging him forward. “But it doesn’t change the fact that I still have no answer for why you just ran into my office waving your tally whacker and squeaking like a mouse.”

At that, William seemed to have lost all ability to speak, let alone even look her in the eyes.

“… Get in my office.”

William’s stomach churned violently, and his heart felt somewhat heavier. He couldn’t even bring himself to think up any more curses for Eris – if anything, it was his fault for not distrusting her in the first place. Or worse, thinking that he could have outsmarted her… but at that, he honestly felt that he should have. That only made him feel worse, of course. He trudged on down the hall with an odd sense of déjà vu, feet feeling oddly heavy. He absentmindedly wished that he still had his shoes, and immediately afterwards felt very silly for even thinking it; he would have appreciated having his clothes back much more.

And, just as Missus Trimming’s office door swung coldly open, William was greeted with the warm basking light through her open window.

William sighed heavily, tramping inward with the elder mare close behind him, trapping him inside.

“Alright,” Trimming grunted, shooing him to the side as she began rummaging in one of the metal cabinets lining the walls. “What’s your excuse this time?”

William opened his mouth, but closed it again shortly afterwards.

“… Did somepony put you up to it?” she asked in a half conversational tone, at last digging out an article of clothing that William instantly recognized as one of the maid’s uniforms. “Somepony did, didn’t they? It was Velvet, wasn’t it? I’ll bet it was. You can go ahead and tell me if it was Velvet, you know. I never trusted her, too talkative. You still aren’t saying anything.”

Trimming frowned at him, snapping the drawer shut tightly behind her and slapping the uniform over her hoof.

“Yoo-hoo, anypony in there?” she asked tersely. “I asked you a question, Klaskovsky.”

“Sorry,” William shook his head awkwardly, hands still clamped protectively in front of himself. “I-I-, um, well…”

“Have said practically nothing to defend yourself,” Trimming deadpanned, finishing for him. “For Celestia’s sake, stop twitching.”

“I’m sorry, Missus Trimming. I find it increasingly difficult to maintain focus without my clothes.”

“Then why did you take them off?” she dangled the uniform in front of him. “Unless this little random outburst was for what I think it was for. In which case, at least buy me dinner first.”

For a moment, William was afraid that she was simply going to yank them back again if he didn’t answer, but she thankfully allowed him to grab it and stiffly try to jam the uniform on.

Trimming’s eyes never left him as he struggled with it.

She let out a quiet, almost imperceptible annoyed sigh, motioning for him to turn around.

“Stop fidgeting, idiot. Let me get the buttons,” Trimming said flatly, forcing him to stand still.

“Er… you had… more of these…?” William's fingers danced distractedly over the familiarly frilly bottom of the too small uniform.

“Filly Scouts motto, always be prepared,” she responded dryly, finishing off another button halfway up his back. One of her hooves lingered over his his back, the other resting easily around his belly for a couple of moments as she paused. “What do you think, genius? You should be grateful that there were spares that you neglected to put with the rest of your belongings. Half of the new staff usually does it. I’m honestly not all that surprised.”

William tried to stand still, eyes lingering on a crack in the wall. What bothered him so much wasn’t that Missus Trimming oh so conveniently just happened to have another uniform that (mostly) fit him, but the way she talked about it. As if it were nothing. In fact, it was Trimming’s complete lack of emotion in her tone that was really beginning to put him off – he would have expected her to be much angrier.

"You could at least thank me."

“Um… tha-thank you, Missus Trimming.”

“Don’t mention it,” Trimming said without a hint of satisfaction. “Now sit down.”

William complied, quietly noting that she didn’t ask for any more explanations.

She finally settled into her chair, the sunlight masked behind her as she resumed her place behind her desk and glowered at him. William didn’t try to meet her stare, instead staring down at his hands that he had folded neatly in his lap.

“… I can almost tell what you’re thinking,” Trimming at last mused aloud, startling him. “It’s like I can see the gears grinding in your little head, still trying to figure out why I haven’t asked certain questions yet.”

William remained silent.

“I think we already both know what the answer will be. So how about a different question; what am I going to do with you? Hmm?”

Trimming’s hooves silently tapped together to form a steeple, and her golden eyes narrowed a little.

“I get the feeling that we’ve had this conversation before, William.” She ruminated, eyes boring a hole in him. “I don’t like repeating myself, but it seems you make me. Funny, the traits you share… What to do with you. What to do with you, what to do.”

Still William said nothing, and she exhaled quietly.

“You know,” Trimming said conversationally. “I was in a pretty good mood. For once, I mean. It’s fairly rare for me. I was minding my own business, trying to enjoy a little peace and quiet. Had I known that my office would be noisily invaded by a filthy miniature stallion penis, I would have taken different steps.”

Although he remained just as silent, William slowly but surely began turning a heated color of rusty red.

“Is that just how you get your jollies?” Trimming cocked an eyebrow slowly. “Are you just anxious to embarrass yourself? There seem to be a steadily growing number of ‘incidents’ involving your little ‘exhibitions’. You’re practically desperate for somepony to give you special attention, is that it?”

“No,” William blurted, cheeks burning. “That’s not it at all!”

“Mm-hmm,” she hummed in an unconvinced manner. “I don’t know what kind of laws and regulations you have where you come from, but here, flashing your superior is still very much considered impolite. And by impolite, I mean you have no idea of the wrath you have unleashed today.

Trimming’s calm, quiet tone from before changed so sharply, so abruptly that William’s heart skipped a beat from the sheer unexpectedness of it. He then spent a great deal of effort attempting to convince himself that she hadn’t actually frightened him, and utterly failed to do so.

“Was it just me?” the mare asked, inspecting the bottom of her hoof in her quiet tone once again, eventually peeking up at the wide eyed boy. “Or did your little fantasy run its course all the way through the castle? Just how deep a hole have you dug yourself this time, human?”

A discreet double knock on Trimming’s heavy office door rang through the room, alerting them both. Within the same moment, a familiar crown-tipped white head poked through the doorway, smiling peacefully at them both. Relief flooded William, although he couldn’t quite place why. Perhaps it just had something to do with her tranquil appearance.

Or maybe it was because William would much, much rather face the wrath of an angry sun princess than Missus Trimming.

“Ah, there you are,” Celestia serenely peered down at the slightly quivering William. “I really should have expected that you’d end up here. Silly me, should have been the first place I looked.”

Missus Trimming had difficulty bowing to the princess, as she was struggling to contain an uncharacteristically powerful urge to laugh.

“Royally botched things up, didn’t he?” Trimming asked gleefully as she rose. “I apologize most sincerely for the little hooligans actions, your majesty. I assure you, the actions of this- of young Klaskovsky here in no way reflect the behavior of the rest of your sanitary staff, and he shall be punished accordingly.”

A tiny shiver ran all the way up from the base of William’s spine at the head maid’s words, and the subtle look slipped his way. It made him uncomfortable in an oddly unfamiliar manner, but provoked a low feeling of dread nonetheless.

It was at that point that William ceased attempting to convince himself that she did not scare him.

“Actually,” Celestia coolly intervened. “If you don’t mind, I believe I’ll be taking matters into my own hooves in those regards.”

“Interrupted you too, did he?” Trimming’s frown grew more pronounced.

“Of a sort. Along with the Griffonian emperor, who is now thoroughly determined to disembowel him and devour his entrails.”

It seemed rather odd to William how he could have been frightened of someone only moments ago, and watching an overpowering sensation of fear grab that same Missus Trimming and transform her features so rapidly. The color drained slightly from her face, and the words seemed to die in her very throat.

Were it not for the niggling worry that he would soon be horridly disemboweled, William might have taken in the sight a little more.

“Right, then.” Trimming nodded swiftly, and Celestia smiled kindly before leaving with a motion from her wingtip for William to follow. Just before he slipped out the door after her, he felt a soft touch on his shoulder that made him jump.

“Good luck.”

The door latched quietly behind him, leaving him standing in stunned silence as Princess Celestia slowly trotted away down one of the enormous hallways.

“… Coming?” she called lightly without looking over her shoulder, and William shook his head sharply before jogging after her.

“Yes, I-I am.” He bowed his head a little as he caught up to her, clasping his hands firmly behind his back. William’s shoulders bowed before long as they walked, almost in a meandering way.

“… Awfully quiet, aren’t you?” Celestia eyed him momentarily before nodding friendlily to a trio of passing guards, who all stopped to salute before continuing on their way to one of the castle’s many entrances. Try as he might to speak, William found that his tongue had mysteriously glued itself to the roof of his mouth.

“That was no joke, by the way,” she added after they had passed the guards, her voice low but loud enough that he could hear. “Emperor Gestalt hasn’t been that furious in ages. Real temper on that one, just like his father.”

William’s gaze slowly turned from the shining floor beneath his bare feet and gradually twisted up to Princess Celestia, who was watching him with an unrecognized gleam in her eye.

“There is no possible amount of apology that’s ever going to fix that, is there…?” William asked miserably.

“May I ask as to why you felt the need to burst in stark naked screeching at the top of your lungs?” Celestia asked cheerfully.

William swallowed hard, bitterly shaking his head.

“I-I lost a bet.”

“… Eris?”

“Eris,” he admitted abashedly, and to his vast surprise, the princess tittered.

“I surmised as much,” she trotted jovially, patting him lightly on the shoulder with one wingtip before turning him down yet another grandly decorated hall. “Ahh, the progeny of chaos are proving to be rather… entertaining.”

“It was all my fault, anyway,” William shook his head again, fidgeting with his hands as they walked. It took William a while to notice, although he finally did; he was no longer trying to keep up with Princess Celestia. At some point or another, she had begun walking in tempo to his steps. The realization alone threw him off, and words failed him.

“Really?” she pried curiously, glancing out the window at a cheerfully singing bird. “So, it was your idea to take off the clothing that I was assured that you would be quite attached to and streak through my castle like a broken firework?”

Heat flooded into his face, and William tugged mercilessly at the frills of his uniform.

“It’s that wretched draconequus!” he fumed, balling up the frills in his fists. “Everything about her drives me to point blank insanity, that wench will be the death of me!”

“… Wench?” Celestia paused in mid-step, staring at him. William froze as well, but eased up a little upon her unexpected giggle. “Oh, I think you and Lulu are going to hit it off well. You really should have arrived earlier, but I believe I know what the holdup has been.”

“Er… so-sorry? Am I not going to be-be punished…?” William blinked in confusion, nudged forward down the hall. Not only had Celestia seemed to have completely forgotten about his actions, but she seemed to be even more chipper than before.

“Ah, no need to be!” she nudged him forward again with her wingtip. “All of your wages are already being given back, I don’t see why I would need to add punishment to that. Unless you really want to be punished, in which case I could always pull some strings…”

“Actually, no, that’s fine!” he held up his hands quickly, showing his palms. “Not necessary, really!”

“I thought so,” she grinned smugly, but somehow didn’t seem to give even the slightest aura of being self-righteous at all. It was more of a roguish, playful smirk – one that uncomfortably reminded him of Eris. It was gone the next moment, though.

“But, in all seriousness,” Celestia’s smile faded, and her expression became grim. “If anything of this sort happens again, you shall be forcibly evicted from this palace. I’m certain that your family back home would not be very appreciative of the ramifications. Am I understood?”

“Yes ma’am.” William bowed his head sincerely, hands clasped together again.

“Oh, good!” she perked up immediately. “Fourth on the right, after the right turn.”

“… Sorry?”

“Luna’s chambers!” Celestia threw a wingtip into the air as she slowly trotted away. “You’re expected, young master Klaskovsky. “West wing is where my sister’s chambers lie – I'm going to give another attempt at damage control. Do try to stay out of trouble this time!”

“Y-yes ma’am! I mean, your highness!” he called after her, thoroughly baffled. He could have sworn that he heard another light titter of laughter, but it could have just as easily been his imagination. William stood blankly in the hallway staring at the spot where the princess had been only a short while ago, still trying in vain to wrap his mind around what had just happened.

Which, essentially, happened to be his ‘get out of jail free’ card.

He allowed himself a rare smile, continuing down the hall. It was doubtful that the princess would save him again, but he was certainly appreciative for it this time. William sincerely doubted that there would be no repercussions, that was nigh unavoidable. But for now, he had escaped – even if it was only temporary.

He stopped as he peered down another of the seemingly endless high halls, alabaster pillars casting long shadows over him.

Had Princess Celestia said the fourth after the right, or a right after the fourth?

William blinked, uncertainty nagging at him as he spied a long, wide spiraling staircase tucked neatly against the wall at the end of the giant passage. It was cast in a shadow that seemed to be nearly untouched by the sunlight, which he found strange – from the angle that the sun poured in generously through the windows, it should have been as bright as everything else. It drew his attention, and he cautiously peered up the staircase into the inky circle blackness levitating above.

He resisted the urge to sigh, certain that he had found the stairs to what must be Princess Luna’s personal tower. It was going to be a long, long climb.