The Grand Galloping Gala was, without a doubt, one of the most stressful occasions for a noble. Rich, prestigious and influential families from all over Equestria and beyond gather to do one thing: boast.

The white stain of family pride was still ingrained into the essence of Equestria’s upper class; mares wore fake smiles and stallions wore fake moustaches—both to hide the scowls of jealousy hiding just beneath their flawless exterior.

Fleur de Lis knew this all too well. Growing up with nobility meant one became quite fluent in the art of faux-smiles and cheap talk.

“Your gala dress is ready, ma’am,” a servant pony said politely, motioning to the freshly pressed dress that she had brought with her.

“Thank you, Dewdrop,” Fleur replied sweetly, although her eyes never left the mirror.

“Would you like me to help you put it on, Miss de Lis?” Dewdrop continued.

“That won’t be necessary,” Fleur responded. “You are dismissed.” She watched as the servant girl bowed and left, and once again found herself wondering why her family even hired servants.

Appearances, of course. It’s all about the Family Pride.

She had already known about the answer, but she felt like remembering it again so that she could mope to herself how stupid it was. Why couldn’t her family see that this game was as meaningless as the Grand Galloping Gala itself?

A knock at the door interrupted her thoughts.

“Miss de Lis? Mr. Fancy Pants has arrived.”

“Tell him I’ll be a few minutes more.” Fleur hastily scrambled to put her dress on.

“Yes, ma’am. He’s waiting for you in the front room.”

Fleur slipped on her dress and brushed it down, ensuring that there was not one single blemish or crease to be found on the grand design, and prepared herself for the night ahead of her. She stole one last glance at the mirror, staring long and hard at her reflection. A mare full of unfamiliar joy and alien vigour stared back at her.

Yes, her mask was ready.

Taking a deep breath to help maintain her graceful composure, she made her way to the front room.

“Fancy!” she called as she entered the room.

“Ah, there you are,” Fancy said as he turned around to see her. He looked as dapper as he always did—he was a true master of the art.

“I do hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long,” Fleur said with a smile.

“Not at all, my dear.” Fancy chuckled. “Are you ready?”

“Of course.”

“Shall we?” Fancy opened the front door and motioned for her to go through.

“Oh, Fancy. Always the gentlecolt,” Fleur giggled.

A click of the door later and the two of them were walking through the streets of Canterlot. Celestia had already lowered the sun, so magical lamps illuminated the streets instead. They cast long shadows across the cobblestone roads.

The street was quiet, save for the sound of distant music and the sound of their hooves echoing across the street. Fleur was so focused on the rhythmatic clip-clop sound of enamel against stone that she almost missed what Fancy Pants said to break the ambient silence.

“Splendid evening once again. Did I mention that Cutting Edge bought shares in that lightning generator company? She saw the prices leap one point two percent last month and…”

Great. He’s talking about finances again.

Fleur swallowed the groan that was rising up her throat and threatening to escape, and instead maintained eye contact, nodding occasionally. The words washed against her mind like waves against the beach; in and out they flowed, but she spared them very little of her attention.

She wondered what might happen at the gala. Perhaps something interesting would happen this year? There was, after all, a new addition to the growing line of princesses. The crown seemed to be gaining a new member every year, and Fleur couldn’t help but wonder where all these thrones were going to be put.

“Surely investing in that chariot manufacturing company was a bad move?” Fleur interrupted as she returned her full attention to the conversation at hoof. “They only just managed to avoid being liquidized last quarter.”

“Oh, Fleur.” Fancy Pants chuckled. “The industry's having bits poured into it. Of course it’s a good investment.” The stallion was laughing heartily, but no amount of mirth could disguise the patronizing tone in his voice.

Once again, Fleur forced back the eye-roll that was threatening to escape and break her mask.

Do not tarnish the Family Pride.

“Of course, Fancy,” she replied sweetly, flashing him a smile.

The two turned a corner, and Canterlot Palace came into full view. The grand architecture and intimidating guards were a breathtaking sight, but Fleur found the display much less impressive.

“Marvellous, isn’t it,” Fancy said happily.

“Quite,” she mumbled in response.

She eyed the queue warily. The two of them were early, but not early enough to avoid the queue, it seemed. As they joined the back, however, she realized it was moving much quicker than in previous years.

“I suppose we have a hasty princess offering greetings,” Fancy said, reading her thoughts.

Fleur had only ever seen Princess Celestia greet at the gala. This was certainly an interesting development.

Sure enough, as the two walked inside, she spotted a large blue alicorn offering greetings at the top of the steps. Princess Luna didn’t look as if she wanted to be there; her eyes darted from left to right, and she occasionally shifted uncomfortably.

As Fleur and Fancy approached, her eyes darted over them, analyzing them. Fleur felt as if she was being judged whether she was a threat or not. After a few seconds, the moon princess spoke.

“Greetings. We welcome you to our gala this night.”

“Princess Luna,” Fancy Pants greeted happily as the two guests bowed in unison. “So wonderful that you could make it this year.”

Once again, Princess Luna’s eyes danced over the stallion in front of her, as if searching for an ulterior motive for his actions.

“I appreciate your concern,” she replied slowly, although she didn’t look appreciative in the slightest. “I hope you enjoy your evening.”

Fleur smiled politely and the two walked up the steps and into one of the main halls. Instantly their eyes were me with the sight of hundreds of nobles deeply engaged in duels of words and pride. The sound hit them like a wall; what was at first a low din was now a loud roar.

“Oh look,” Fancy exclaimed, “it’s Filthy Rich and his daughter.”

Before she had a chance to object, the stallion had walked off to the pair in question. Once more, Fleur swallowed her objections and followed closely behind. The objection instead sunk down into her stomach and protested weakly, making her feel a little ill; she wanted more than anything to run off, but the little voice in her head told her otherwise.

Do not tarnish the Family Pride.

It wa a voice from long ago. It was not hers. The voice was deep and patronizing, but above all, it was angry.

“Filthy!” Fancy called, flashing him a white smile.

Filthy Rich’s ubiquitous smile faltered momentarily, but he quickly recovered. “Filthy Rich, if you please,” he said politely. His face lit up, however, when he saw who had called his name. “Ahh, Fancy Pants. It has been a while.”

“Indeed it has, my friend. How’s the apple business going?”

“Still as booming as ever…”

Once again, Fleur zoned out the droning male voices. Did all males only have boring things to talk about? She sighed and glanced about the crowd. She saw a few nobles she knew, but none she genuinely liked; they had a way of saying one thing and yet insulting everyone else at the same time. The ambiguity in what they said was their armor, and the venom in what they said was their spear.

“Fancy Pants!” someone from the crowd called, pulling Fancy’s attention away from Filthy Rich.

“Ruby? Fancy seeing you here.”

“Oh, you and your fancy puns, Fancy,” the mare chuckled. “I see you brought your friend again.”

The mare gave Fleur that once-over glance that said it all.

“So lovely to see you again, Ruby.” Fleur smiled.

“Indeed. It seems like forever since our last little get together. A pity. I quite enjoyed our last conversation.”

Fleur refused to let her smile falter; their last conversation had been less than ideal.

“But of course! Perhaps we should make plans sometime?”

“Well, I don’t know. I am a pretty busy mare after all.” Ruby waggled her eyebrows victoriously, a smirk dancing across the corners of her lips.

“Oh, I know how exhausting it must be to have to tend to stallions all the time. Please excuse me, I’m going to grab Fancy and I some drinks.”

Before Ruby even had a chance to respond, Fleur broke away from the circle and made her way through the crowd towards the drink stand. She couldn’t help but smile. The look on the mare’s face had been priceless. The only way her jaw could have dropped lower is if it had been detached from her head.

She was interrupted from her thoughts as she bumped straight into another pony.

“Terribly sorry,” Fleur gasped.

“Sorry,” a deep voice mumbled, barely audible over the din of the crowd.

Fleur looked up to see she’d bumped into a large red stallion. He looked rather dashing in a suit, and his vibrant orange mane was tied back into a ponytail. Despite his graceful appearance, large muscles bulged underneath his crimson fur.

His emerald eyes avoided hers, though.

“No need to apologize. It was my fault,” Fleur replied with a quick smile before continuing on her way towards the drink stand. Out of the corner of her eye, however, she noticed that the stallion was following her.

It took her a moment to realize that he was also probably heading to the same place. In front of her, several punch bowls were filled with various kind of beverages. She paused at the table and watched as the red stallion walked up next to her and grabbed several cups.

“Getting drinks for a lot of ponies, then?”

A silence hung over them as those emerald eyes scanned her over apathetically. Fleur frowned as she analyzed his body language, but everything about him was infuriatingly neutral.

After a few seconds more, he finally broke the silence.

“Eeyup.”

Fleur blinked. Was that all? Desperately she scrambled for something further to say—anything that would save her from an awkward silence. Once again, the voice threatened to haunt her.

“So have you heard that stocks in lightning generators have risen by one point two percent? Now’s the time to invest, I suppose.”

The stallion scrunched his eyebrow, eyeing her in confusion.

Fleur blushed. Was she doing something wrong? Maybe she had just stumbled on a sore topic?

“Hehe,” she chuckled. “But who cares about that? It’s all about the chariot industry, right?”

Once again, the stallion seemed unimpressed by her topic of conversation.

Maybe you’re just not talking about the right business?

She glanced at his cutie mark.

Apples! Of course!

“But you probably don’t bother with any of that. I mean, what with apples being such a booming industry.” She bit her lip as she prayed that what Filthy Rich had been saying wasn’t total lies, unlike most of what every other noble said.

Still the stallion said nothing, his eyes darting around the room, as if searching for an escape.

Do not tarnish the Family Pride.

“But all that’s just as boring as the gala, right?”

It was her last card. It was all she had left.

“Eeyup.”

The stallion smiled. A huge wave of relief crashed down over her. He continued to gather the drinks for whoever his friends were as he flashed her that rare smile.

Fleur was about to press further when suddenly somepony bumped into her.

“Sorry ‘bout that,” an orange mare said as she brushed past her. “There ya’are, yah old lug. Been lookin’ all over for you. C’mon, we just got some seats.”

The stallion glanced at Fleur pleadingly as he was dragged off by the brash mare. Fleur was too taken aback to say anything, and the orange earth pony hadn’t noticed they had been in the middle of a conversation.

That meant that she was left with taking drinks back to her little circle. Fleur felt the scowl threatening to break through her mask once again.

I didn’t even get his name…

She poured herself a few drinks and set off back through the crowd. This time she wasn’t disturbed by anypony. Inwardly, she sighed as she reached the circle again.

Fleur swallowed the sigh that had been waiting on her lips and handed everypony their drinks.

“Ah, good to see you enjoyed your little trip to fetch the drinks,” Ruby purred.

Fleur gulped down several more sighs, eyerolls and roars of outrage.

It was going to be a long night.

Half an hour later and Fleur de Lis found herself in the same situation still. Fancy Pants was still ranting on about the variations in price of various gemstones, Filthy Rich’s daughter had chipped in with a few childish complaints, and Ruby always had another snide quip somewhere hidden in that scraggly mane of hers.

“Fleur, you wouldn't happen to have a dish cloth on you, would you?”

“Weren't you friends with that country girl, Fleur?”

“Oh Fleur, didn't you attend a public school?”

Fleur responded to each comment with the grace and civility of a princess, although she knew that Ruby deserved none of it.

“If you'll excuse me,” Fleur said at last, “I can see someone waving for me.”

“Are you sure they aren't waving for somepony else?” Ruby offered.

“I'll talk to you later, Fancy,” she continued, ignoring the obnoxious mare.

Before anypony could get another word in, Fleur rushed off into the crowd. Of course, nopony had been waving for her; she just needed an excuse to get away. She'd been far too generous by wasting thirty minutes on a pointless exchange of words.

“Fillies and Gentlecolts, Princess Twilight Sparkle has arrived,” a voice called out from the stage. Instantly, the crowd made their way to the entrance hall to see their latest princess.

Great. Another princess.

Fleur sighed and followed the crowd through to the entrance hall, wary to stay out of sight of Ruby.

The ponies all eagerly crowded around the red carpet leading to the doorway as it opened, revealing a purple alicorn. The crowd cheered eagerly and the alicorn went white.

“Umm, this isn't really necessary!” she squeaked, taking a few steps in retreat.

Fleur sighed.

Some princess she is. I'd be ten times the princess she is.

She knew it was bad of her to be envious of Princess Sparkle, but she couldn't help herself; she was in a foul mood, and needed some way to vent her frustration.

I'll just take a walk to cool off.

She turned away from the princess, who was being nudged forward up the red carpet towards the steps by her friends, and walked towards the door to the gardens.

The Canterlot Gardens were quite the spectacle when one didn't spend most of the gala here every year. Nevertheless, Fleur found the gardens infinitely preferable to the crowded interior. Apparently some flowers were supposed to be in bloom only during the Gala. Fleur wasn't sure which ones, but the flowers were nice to look at, at least.

A cool breath of fresh air washed over her. Fleur took a deep breath and stepped out into the garden, short grass crunching softly under her hooves. There was nopony else around as they had all rushed inside to welcome the princess. She was mercifully alone. Exactly what she wanted.

The gardens were a plaza which extended a short way to the very edge of the city. There, one could see across half of Equestria. Although it was night, the garden was illuminated by multitudes of lamps that lit up the grass. Plant life dominated one side, however, and there were no lamps over there; it would disturb the animals.

She smiled and walked over to the edge of the plaza, a skip in her step, and looked out across the edge of the city. In the distance, the Everfree Forest could just about be seen lurking ominously in the night. She didn't like that forest. Even just looking at it gave her shivers.

She turned, instead, to stare at the fading light that the sun had left behind. She had a long night ahead of her, and it didn't look like it was going to get any easier from here on out.

“Stupid Ruby,” she muttered, “Why can't she just mind her own business and stop sticking her outrageously oversized muzzle into everything.”

“You're talking to yourself,” a low voice replied.

Fleur spun around in alarm to see that same red stallion from before. He was stood several feet away, but he was looking directly at her.

“Er, yes,” she responded, scrambling for words. “I suppose I was.”

The stallion nodded, and the two lapsed into silence. It seemed that this stallion had a habit of doing that.

“I'm sorry,” she continued. “I guess I'm just a little tired of the gala.”

The stallion smiled but said nothing.

“What's your name?” Fleur asked suddenly, determined to get it before somepony came and dragged him away from her again.

The silence dragged on for a few more seconds, and Fleur was getting worried that he wasn't going to reply. He seemed to be looking her up and down, or perhaps he was looking past her. She couldn't tell; she was struggling to read his expression.

She opened her mouth to change the subject, but she was cut off by his low voice.

“Macintosh.”

“Macintosh,” Fleur repeated. “Like the apple?” Silence threatened to take over again, so Fleur continued. “I'm Fleur de Lis. But you can just call me Fleur if you want.”

Despite her polite introduction, the stallion seemed completely uninterested in what she had to say. Or at least, she was pretty sure he was uninterested. He seemed to be shifting uncomfortably and kept looking past her shoulder. She turned around to see what he was looking at.

There wasn't anything there. Nothing but the edge of the plaza and the world below it.

“You're a strange pony, you know,” she stated, turning back to face Macintosh. Normally, she would have chastised herself for being so coarse, but she doubted she was ever going to see this pony again.

“Eeyup,” he replied. For a moment, Fleur could have sworn that she saw an amused smile cross his lips, but in the next moment, it was gone.

Once again the quiet returned. All Fleur could hear was the faint din of crickets and the steady rhythm of her breathing. She was at a loss for words again. She scuffed a hoof against the ground and Macintosh coughed lightly, but the two stood looking at one another for several seconds more.

“Would you care to join me?” Fleur offered, at long last finding something to say. When Macintosh tilted his head in confusion she explained. “I come to this garden every year at the Gala.” She paused, taking a sudden interest in the grass. “I know it sounds silly, but I like to sit, look down at the world and imagine what's going on down there.”

Macintosh smiled, a proper smile this time, the mirth spreading across his whole expression. “Every year?” he asked.

Fleur giggled. “I come to the gala every year. It gets boring after a while. Too many nobles.”

Fleur's eyes almost bulged as Macintosh laughed—he actually laughed! She didn't quite know what to expect. It was a soft laugh, but still it took her a moment to think of something to say next.

“I was invited,” he replied simply.

“I, er, yes. I suppose that's correct…” Fleur mumbled, the familiar sense of discomfort rising up once more.

Macintosh nodded and sat on the grass next to her. Fleur turned around and sat down as well, hoping that he'd do something to break the ice again.

“So do you own an apple business?” she asked, turning back to face Macintosh. She wasn't sure if he was mysterious or just boring. At the moment, it just felt like the latter. As difficult as it was to drag a conversation from this strange pony, the alternative was going back inside to talk with the other nobles again.

“Eeyup,” he replied simply.

This guy sure knows how to have a conversation.

“