The well-rested royal stood in his chambers, lit only with a candlestick. He had woken perhaps an hour earlier than normal, the sun would be up in just a little while. Blueblood wasn’t exactly a crack-of-dawn kind of pony some years ago, but he had been forced to admit, if only privately, that he had changed over the last… How long was it since he’d started to truly fear bat ponies for everything but those wondrous eyes of theirs? Since then, he was sure, he had changed. This wasn’t the first time he’d tried to wake up at an hour Luna’s faithful servants wouldn’t be out and about to get as much time free of them-the phantoms of them I alone conjure, at least, he thought, a bat pony has NEVER confronted me in the night-as he could manage, not even for a tangible reason, he admitted to himself, just sheer terror. He dared glance at his window, curtains drawn shut before he went to sleep the night before, and pictured a dozen of the horrors floating just outside, waiting for the moment to-

He slapped himself with a hoof. A small pain replaced what had been growing panic. They weren’t really monsters and he knew it, if he could will himself to not think about them at all for a few days, he could almost look at them as normal ponies, free to gaze at the night sky with nary a thought as to it’s leathery-winged guardians. Sadly, this had not been the case in the changeling caverns, very much reminding him of some of his darker thoughts about where bat ponies might reside… He smiled a little, it was nice to be so lucid, if only in the privacy of his own quarters where he could think without thinking of his Royal Image, speak without having to dress up the sentiments, even if he was the only one hearing them. Pacing the room slowly, aware of the inanity of refusing to leave his safe little chamber until the sun’s light peeked through the velvet violet curtains but no more able to will himself to do it anyway at this moment, he reflected on just how… Safe it really felt.

There really wasn’t much reason for him to think a bat po-ANY possible threat, couldn’t get him here. The door was heavy and boasted a sturdy lock, but still just a door, the windows were masterfully crafted, but still just glass panes and wood, there weren’t any decent hiding places, and as far as he knew there were no secret switches he could throw to reveal a hidden passage way or survival bunker should he truly feel threatened. Regardless, he didn’t feel as watched here as he did anywhere else. It was irrational and he knew it, like the fear of what might well have been perfectly ordinary ponies in all ways besides appearance evidently starting to change his life, but he just didn’t feel the sense of intangible threat, that faint little lingering thought that he had to be careful at all times. When he was in his chambers, he felt fine.

He laughed quietly, it made no logical sense, but the prince was glad to have it. It was roughly at that moment he caught sight of something else he would describe with exactly those words, an ornate little box made of blue-painted metal with gold rims. Stepping a little closer to it, he lifted the lid with a light of his horn, it not being the box specifically he was keeping, but the broken glass inside it. Looking at the shattered shards, he smiled. Some were tiny and jagged on most sides, some were larger and had long, smooth, gently curved parts, one fragment even had a strange little stump sticking out, which he guessed had been intentional in the original design, because the end of the stump was smooth, not visibly damaged like the rest of it. Staring at the little box of broken glass, he smiled wider and wider until he started to laugh.

I have absolutely no idea what that thing used to be, or why I ever cared! He had tried fixing it a few times before, the closest he could get to a conceivable piece of glasswork was some kind of little bowl not much smaller than his hoof, the piece with the stump hanging weirdly off to the side, but it didn’t make any sense! He knew a simple repair spell, but it required some idea of what the object had been before, and he didn’t want to risk fusing it together the wrong way. Not comprehending his own apparent sentimentality, he hadn’t stopped giggling quietly. Who would make such a thing? Why? And why did I ever care about it enough to hold onto it’s worthless remains? I’m sure I could have some kind of professional tell me what it is and have a new… Whatever it may be made for pocket change, but I won’t. Composing himself a little, he smiled down at the shards in the box. “Because you’re mine, little glass puzzle, mine and mine alone to solve, if only to kill a bit of time.”

As he pondered just how long ago he’d acquired the box’s broken contents, there was a knock at the door. Replacing the lid and moving towards the early visitor, he noticed that the sun had been raised enough to make the edges of his curtains glow vibrant blue-ish color, almost making them look as though they’d caught with magical fire. He answered the door to see a tired-looking Luna… With a possum on her head. He dared not ask.

“Mmmorn’n, nephew.” Blueblood had heard she and Celestia had some kind of mishap with another evil entity attacking the landmass, apparently. It looked as though Luna had been more effected by… What had it been? Some kind of rosebush from tartarus or something? Whatever it was, it seemed to have hit Luna harder than Celestia, though it might have just been fatigue from the end of her respective shift. “Have ‘nother task, showmare in the castle, go be nice, help with things. Or Apples.”

They stood in a long silence, the prince just quietly staring at his hazy-looking aunt, resisting the urge to offer his own bed for her to flop down on if she’d been that tired, if not for the… implications of such a suggestion. Eventually, she nodded to him once, the possum holding onto her horn, evidently assuming he’d understood her perfectly and retreating to bed for the morning. It was clear enough, he felt, the recent calamity that’d apparently sprung up in his absence hadn’t absolved him of Luna’s task, he was still expected to-what was it? Be nice to mares? Rolling his eyes as he started through the castle halls, he went over the plan in his head. ‘Showmare in the castle’, he only needed to find out who would be performing for the court, locate her, then not fall asleep, ditch her, make her cry, or any combination of the three, and he’d be well on his way to finishing this ridiculous little quest.

---

Casually strolling the castle halls, Blueblood pondered whether or not his efforts with Fluttershy had been a complete waste. She looked to be enjoying herself after meeting Douglas, but I’m not sure why that encounter wasn’t up to snuff for Luna’s demands. Was it that I had to leave her alone in the garden or making her cry that wasn’t well received? He shuddered slightly at the memory of the latter, understanding why such an act might warrant the sort of contempt some directed at ponies like himself, but no less annoyed with this whole charade. It had been nearly a week since he had fallen asleep listening to Octavia and he had been involved in one case of absurd antics after another since then, not counting the visit to the Badlands. The little band of changelings that had a room full of Sapphire Shores posters and paraphernalia was odd, but not a bother, at least. A bother, though, he was certain this assignment would continue to be until it could be resolved, or Luna simply grew bored with it.

Yes. A bother, and nothing more.

He arrived in a large room almost all the way across the palace from his chambers, the area designated for tonight’s performance, not long after leaving the sanctity of his questionably safe room. Briefly pondering the merits of holding entertainment in different rooms of the castle all the time, Blueblood supposed this one in particular had some kind of relation between tonight’s performance and it’s large windows reaching up to the arched ceiling about 30 meters over his head, held up by six marble pillars, but could only guess what all that extra empty space was going to be used for, if anything at all.

It seemed equally likely that Celestia was just trying to make the most of all this regal architecture. No sense in having a whole castle if half the rooms are never used and it’d probably be embarrassing to admit so much was constructed for no reason at all. On that note, the prince directed his eyes to the floor at the far end of the room to see a silver-maned, light-blue mare in a pointy purple hat and cape adorned with stars sorting out boxes of various shape and size. ‘Showmare’, he thought, That looks like a pony one might see on stage, I suppose. He approached her at a relaxed pace while trying to discern just what she was doing with the boxes.

The Great and Powerful Tri-No!, the illusionist corrected herself with a light shake of her head, Just Trixie! You absolutely cannot afford another slip-up if you want to convince anypony you’re not still a fraud, a monster, or both! Just. Trixie… Or, maybe just ‘I’? I need to find the right tools for tonight... Trixie stood among the boxes of props she’d been offered for use in tonight’s performance, trying to decide which of the many, many objects she could use in her show. ‘Great and Powerful’ had been a fantastic stage name up to this point, but to continue addressing herself in that way would make whether or not she had learned anything from her encounters with Twilight Sparkle that much more dubious to those that hadn’t forgiven her for all that had happened when she’d had the Alicorn Amulet.

Ohh, ponies would smile and say it was all in the past, but she saw the odd looks, the suspicious glances, and the outright glares some gave her, and that was fine. Trixie knew there was more to it than saying sorry, even calling herself ‘The Great and Apologetic Trixie’ raised more eyebrows than she was comfortable with. She’d been doing her best to be nice, to avoid gratuitous boasting ever since not being thrown in a dungeon forever after the Amulet had been removed, and so far, it seemed to be paying off. She’d nearly had a heart attack when she’d received royal summons, but to her reinforced shock, she not only didn’t need to flee Equestria, she had been asked to do a show at the bucking palace!!

This was a big chance, for both her reputation and her career, she was certain, so Trixie woke up early this morning to set up the best damn show she’d ever done! …When a royal servant offered her the full range of props used in castle performances, though, she’d been flummoxed by the sheer range of things. Nearly invisible wires, thick curtains, sharpened swords, a variety of costumes, all kinds of dishes, every kind of ball you could think of, is that a plunger-

Trixie’s thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a stallion clearing his throat. Her head whipped up to see a particularly handsome white unicorn in a fine black coat... With an exceptionally long horn. He looks a bit like a guard without armor, apart from his face… Did they send me a helper? As he started talking, it occurred to Trixie that she’d heard of attractive ponies helping performers in places like Las Pegasus, but had never had a beautiful assistant herself.

She looked at him curiously, the question escaping her lips before she realized she was interrupting whatever he’d said in the last few seconds. “Are you here to assist me?” Trixie spoke in the first person without thinking about it. She felt proud, but kept a lid on it while awaiting his answer.

Blueblood blinked, more concerned with clarifying the reason for his presence than being cut off mid-sentence. That does sum up what I’ll be doing here... “Yes,” he said, nodding his head, “I’ve been directed to help you along with, err…” Glancing around the room, it appeared he was confused. “What exactly are you doing, Miss…?”

“Trixie,” she said, looking a little perplexed herself, “they sent you to help without a clue what to do?” That sounded a little…biting. She quickly forced a smile. “I-I mean, that’s okay, actually, I’m not quite sure exactly what I’ll be doing just yet!”

The two of them stood in silence a moment, the awkwardness growing in direct proportion to how much Trixie was forcing her grin to look friendly. She’d only been exploring her options with which to wow the princesses, she’d assumed at least two of the four would be in attendance, for about an hour before her new helper showed up.

She was just about to ask his name when he spoke up. “Right then,” he said in a relaxed tone with a small, affable smile, “I assume we should start by picking a plan of action then finding how best to go about it without much incident?”

Trixie nodded. “I have a vague idea for these.” She indicated the nearly-invisible wires with a hoof, being much easier to see when neatly bundled up than when stretched out somewhere. There was a hint of a smirk accompanying her next words. “Is levitation without magic common in Canterlot?”

Blueblood, though the showmare had no idea that was his name, shook his head. He’d hardly even seen pegasi that weren’t wonderbolts fly in Canterlot, let alone unicorns or earth ponies. Not that there were rules against it, per se, it was just something of a faux pas, he supposed, like pulling weeds at a garden party. The prince still wasn’t sure he’d believed Fancy Pants when the older stallion told him about that one…”It isn’t, which should make it all the more impressive, I suppose?”

Trixie smiled. “Alright, so we’ll set up the wires and think of something impressive to do, then wow the crowds in mid-air!” She rubbed her chin with a hoof, looking to the boxes of props. “Now what to put on a show with…?”

Trixie’s new assistant was perplexed. “In… Mid-air?”

She nodded, rifling through the nearest crate of props’ contents, lifting the entire box in her magic. “Mhm, string the wires to the pillars in here, then do the show while standing on them. At least partway through, I mean, it won’t have as much impact if we just start walking on air from the get-go. We’ll have to tie the wires very tightly to make sure they don’t wobble at all, or it’ll be obvious how we’re doing it.” She spoke quietly as she examined a slightly oversized top hat. “Going to have to make sure it isn’t too bright in here, either, shadows can give things away the audience might not have noticed.”

She certainly seems to know what she’s talking about, Blueblood thought, much more coherent than Photo Finish was with her work, too. “So,” he said, starting to look through the boxes himself in search of anything awe-inspiring, “what is it you normally do in these shows? It’d best to play to your strengths, I imagine?”

Trixie, in the middle of jabbing what appeared to be a beach ball made of tiny mirrors with a hoof trying to discern what it could be used for, guessed he had never seen one of her shows. “Stage magic, use of unicorn power to dazzle an adoring crowd.” She smiled a little, more ego than she was aware dripping into her voice. “Trixie’s illusions are second to none!”

“Illusions?” Trixie noted that while his tone was fairly neutral, he did not sound the least bit impressed. “You mean, making it look like things happen, not actually performing wondrous feats of-“

He was cut off by the showmare he had briefly forgotten he was supposed to be helping looking straight at him with what wasn’t quite a glare, but wasn’t far off the mark. “Are you saying there’s something wrong with illusions?”

Blueblood, feeling analytical, did not take the subtle hint. “Oh, not wrong,” he said, waving a hoof dismissively, “just, perhaps, sub-par?”

A twitch of Trixie’s eye also went unnoticed as he examined what appeared to be a chalice adorned with what might well have been real jewels.

“I mean, ponies see amazing magic already, from the sun being raised by one powerful being, to things like the Crystal Heart or Discord’s dealings. Compared to that, a flashy lightshow just doesn’t sound all that impressive. Even pegasi manipulating the weather has a certain majesty to it, wouldn’t you say Miss Tri-“

It was at this point he caught sight of the seething mare, a psychotic little smirk on her face as she lifted one of the smaller boxes with her magic about half a meter over his horn.

Her voice was a harsh whisper spoken through gritted teeth. “I’ll show you a lightshow!” She slammed the box on his head, the cardboard rupturing just enough that it stuck, giving the appearance that he had a cardboard box for a head, his horn protruding from the top.

Blueblood stood still, the impact hadn’t hurt, but it was dark now. What did she just do? “Uhm,” voice came muffled by the cardboard and props he was speaking through, “Alright, I’m not sure what’s happened, but if this is one of your illusions, well-played.”

Trixie, with the awareness somewhere in the back of her head that assaulting somepony sent to help her with a box of props might get her in serious trouble, was too busy containing her laughter at the silly sight of the box-headed stallion, struggling to speak, but unable to do so without giggles. She put a hoof over her mouth, but it was no good as she broke into unrestrained guffaws worthy of any pink party planner. After a few moments of her assistant stumbling around trying to figure out what was wrong, Trixie managed to pull herself together enough to help him, hoping her outburst wouldn’t come back to bite her.

“H-hold still,” she said through residual giggles, “there’s a box on your head.”

“Oh. Why is there a box on my head?”

“Uhmm,” She was faintly thankful he couldn’t see her face at that moment, her coat didn’t hide blushing well, “I maaaaay have overdone it with that, uh, trick.” Tugging at the box with her magic, she found it to be stuck on pretty good.

Feeling the cardboard pressing harder against his fur now, it was no longer a mystery to Blueblood what that sensation along his neck had been. “…You threw a box at me?”

Trixie lowered her head a little as she pulled harder to remove the cardboard one. “Sorry, sorry, I might have been a litt-“

Blueblood joined his magic to Trixie’s efforts to pop the box from his head. “That’s not a trick at all!”

She stared at him for a moment, perplexed at his statement… And why he now seemed to be wearing a thin black mask that only served to cover the fur around his eyes. Must have been one of the costume boxes.

Either not bothered or not aware of the things stuck to his head again, Trixie’s assistant continued, his facial expression neutral, as though explaining something to a slow-witted foal. “Anypony can throw something, bored colts do it all the time, particularly around windows for some reason, that’s even less impressive than illusionary magic.”

Calm, Trixie, she thought, stay calm, he’s probably just messing with you, wants to see if you’ve really changed. She laughed quietly, forcing a fairly convincing smile and suppressing the urge to throw something heavier at him. “I guess you’ve heard of Trixie before?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Hm? Whom are you referring to…?”

For some reason, that irked her terribly.

His eyes widened a moment. “Oh, right, that’s your name!”

Anger.

He brushed his chin with a hoof in recollection. “You know, I have heard of another Trixie, but from what I hear, she was kindof, what’s the word…?”

Rising.

“Fake!” He grinned, pleased to have found the syllable he sought, not noticing his companion’s change in demeanor. “She was said to have claimed to be able to best anypony at anything, but never actually made an attempt, just made her competition look foolish or something, and was bested by Princess Twilight with real magic!”

Trixie’s teeth ground together, the smile long-gone. It was roughly now that the most obnoxious, insufferable pony she’d ever had to work with seemed to take note of her facial expression.

“Uhm…” He smiled sheepishly. “You wouldn’t happen to be… that… Trixie?”

The showmare had little semblance of coherent thought at that moment, only fury.

Nostrils flaring, she lunged at him with her bare hooves, but he’d instinctively ducked the moment she’d moved, sending her over him and into another box that had been opposite her position. She quickly rose from it, now wearing a black, ragged cape, pirate captain’s hat, and eyepatch. Her unconcealed eye shot about the room for a second before landing on the sword props. Not caring to check if they were real or not, she seized a long cutlass in her magic and started furiously swinging it at the irritating stallion whose name she would just have to guess when it came time to leave something on his tombstone.

Blueblood, considerably frightened, but having remembered he was supposed to be helping this mare put on a show, needed a way to calm her down, quickly. He ducked and dodged her sword, desperately stammering out pleas that she put the weapon down, whether it was really dangerous or not.

This seemed to do nothing but amuse Trixie, as she’d started giggling madly. I’m screwed now, I know I am, she thought, the hopelessness of her situation sinking in as she dug herself deeper, but at least before my temper gets me sent to the moon, turned to stone, or whatever else they can dream up, I’ll have this moment to remember! She continued to swing and swipe at the pony that had, whether he’d meant to or not, gotten on nearly all of her nerves at once.

The prince in the dark mask, missing only a rose in his teeth to look like the hero of some romantic adventure novel, ran behind one of the pillars to escape his pirate-garbed adversary, if only for a few seconds. He glanced to the large, heavy chamber doors, which he’d closed behind him when he entered the room. No time, even if I made it to the doors, I’d need a few seconds to get them open and slip out. He couldn’t think of a spell at this moment that could deflect a physical blade, he looked around, spying a box near his hooves, one of the nearby props would surely serve as adequate protection!

Trixie leapt around to his side of the pillar, Blueblood seized the nearest object in his magic and deflected the blow from Trixie’s cutlass with a large candy cane, which immediately shattered. He hastily stepped to the side to dodge an overhead slash, grabbing another item and swinging it at Trixie’s sword, he found that it was indeed a real, sharpened blade as a rubber chicken was cut neatly in two.

Trixie’s deranged grin seemed to tremble for a second, but Blueblood was too focused on finding something sturdier to defend himself with to notice, caught sight of a sword of his own in another box, and brandished it in his magic, a rapier!

The two stood in silence for a moment, as the prince pointed his weapon at her, Trixie spoke in a challenging growl.

“En Garde!”

Neither of them were at all trained in the use of swords, as the necessity for ponies to wield weapons outside The Guard had been slim to none in most parts of Equestria, and even guards seemed to do it more as a formality than anything. That said, both unicorns held their own rather well, all things considered, blades swinging and tinging off one another in a flurry of metallic motion and sound, even if they were mostly just frantic flails to deflect other frantic flails.

This continued for a while, and the strangest thing about the two, one dressed as a dashing fairytale prince with a stylish black suit and roguish mask, the other a dread pirate in a tattered cape, dark eyepatch, and hat emblazoned with a skull and crossbones, was not, to the surprise of both, their wardrobe or the circumstances that had led each to where they were at this moment…

Trixie spoke louder than usual. “Ho! HaHa! Guard! Turn! Parry! Dodge! Spin! Ha! Thrust!”

“Trixie?” Blueblood said, raising his voice to be heard over the cacophony of their battle.

Her flurry of sword movements didn't stop. “Yes, Assistant?”

“We could easily be killed if one of us slips up, don’t you think?” He’d really wanted to flee, but with his magic focused on fending off Trixie’s cutlass and her not letting up on the assault for even a moment, none of his usual escape spells seemed viable.

“It seems likely, yes!”

“Then why are you smiling?”

She was grinning ear to ear. Blades not slowing down, Trixie giggled. “Because even though Trixie will most likely be banished, executed or both after this, this is actually pretty fun! Don’t you think so?”

The prince’s grin wasn’t as enthusiastic, but he did seem to be enjoying the spectacle this morning had become, it was certainly exciting! “Well, perhaps, but perhaps we could just slow down and talk a minute? What makes you think you’d be banished, executed, or-“ he leapt backward to get some distance, Trixie not following him. She wouldn’t need to in order to float her sword close enough to swing at him, but it was the principle of the thing. “-anything of the sort?”

Trixie kept her smile, but her light-violet eyes misted slightly. Dammit, Blueblood thought, not again!

She managed to keep her voice contained. “Trixie has done horrible things…” Her sword lowered slightly, but she still very clearly had a grip on it. “Trix-I, have been trying, really hard, to be good, since I got another chance, but, this?” She gestured to herself and Blueblood with the cutlass. “This is the last straw, I’m done-for now.” She lowered her head, her pirate hat and ragged cape beginning to glow with magical light for a moment as they shifted to look like her purple pointy hat and cape again, though the eyepatch remained as it was.

Blueblood, lowering his own weapon, spoke softly. “For what, having a bad day?”

Trixie raised her eye a little, just enough to catch sight of him.

“Probably a few more preceding this one, I would venture a guess,” he continued, “but surely you did nothing so damning as to really earn Auntie’s contempt?”

Trixie didn’t know whom he’d meant by ‘Auntie’, but she had an increasingly cold feeling in her stomach. “I-I attacked you, with a cutlass!” She hadn’t forgotten why, but no amount of thoughtless comments warranted having a sword stuck between your eyes.

The pony in the thin, black mask only chuckled, a wry smile on his face. “You’d be surprised what one can get away with in terms of assaulting royalty," it honestly seemed more likely that Luna would hold him accountable for the sword fight, "I don’t think the guards so much as lifted a hoof when I was being chased through the streets by a lunatic the other day. Their collective day off, I suppose.”

Trixie blinked, her insides feeling a little colder. Did he just say-

“But really,” he went on, dropping the rapier entirely, “these things only tend to be as much as one makes them to be, and since it’s generally less trouble to just let it go once transgressions are over and done with, I usually don’t hold a grudge.” He grinned almost mischievously. “In fact, you might say it’s wisest to let the problem disappear!”

There was a long silence, luckily it seemed none of the boxes contained live crickets.

Trixie spoke first, face expressionless. “…What?”

The prince smiled sheepishly. “Y-you know, ‘disappear’? Isn’t that a popular illusionist trick?”

It was about two minutes into an awkward silence that Trixie started to smile, giggle quietly, and laugh even harder than she had a little while ago, Blueblood joining in more due to how contagious it proved to be than finding his own lack of knowledge of stage magician tricks to be amusing.

Their mutual laughter was interrupted by a knock at the door, quickly followed by the colorful, flowing mane of Princess Celestia peeking into the room, her head joining it. She looked to the pair of unicorns and smiled, paying no mind to Trixie’s hasty bow. “Hello Nephew, Trixie, how are things coming along with the magic show for tonight?”

Trixie, her horn nearly touching the floor and not able to look directly at the sovereign, Or is it co-sovereign? Does that make it not technically a sovereign anymore…? of Equestria at that moment, froze entirely. She’d heard of Celestia’s nephew, faintly wondering if that made the Night Princess his aunt as well, along with Mi Amore Cadenza … And more recently, Twilight Sparkle? Regardless, she had never actually gotten a look at one of the magazines passed around by giggling fillies about the Most Eligible Bachelor in Equestria™ to know what he might look like, but heard some rumors since arriving in Canterlot… Rumors she was already questioning, given how little he seemed to be shouting at her, having her seized by the guards, taken away, and possibly being banished -not literally, but made very much not welcome by the nobility- from the city. She dared to glance at the prince, who was confidently telling his aunt that the show would be something to see indeed. This is Prince Blueblood?

With a smile and a nod, the princess’s head retreated from the doorway before immediately reappearing. “Oh, and be sure to get something to eat, I didn’t see you at breakfast, Nephew!” And with that, she departed, tons of important princess things to do, no doubt.

It was roughly at this point both unicorns realized they hadn’t eaten anything all morning. Blueblood turned to Trixie, who, not having actually seen Celestia’s departure, was still bowing. He cleared his throat to get her attention, she glanced at him, then the door, and regained a normal stance. They stared at one another a moment, particularly at their respective eyewear, before noncommittally pointing a hoof at the other, speaking in unison.

“You’ve got something on your-Oh? Right, thanks.” They removed the eyepatch and thin mask at the same time before another awkward silence ensued, but didn’t last quite as long as the others, with Trixie’s help.

“So…”

“Lunchtime starts in another hour or so, perhaps we could do a bit more here before setting off for the dining hall?”

Trixie had hoped to sample food worthy of the princesses during her stay at the castle… Having apparently incurred no horrible consequences for attacking Celestia's surprisingly forgiving family, she beamed. “Let’s set up a show, then!”

They returned to rummaging through props as they had been pre-sword fight for a while before Trixie was struck with inspiration involving a treasure chest, a hidden trampoline, a bowling ball she would enchant to look like a giant pearl, and one of the trees around the back of the castle. Oh, yes, she thought as she relayed the plan to Blueblood, this may just be Trixie’s finest performance yet!

They spent a while tying the nearly-invisible wires to the pillars at various lengths and angles for the airborne swordfight, came up with a few sets of flashy motions with the cutlass and the rapier, and set the stage for the big show before locking the chamber door -Trixie had been given a key for the day- and setting off in search of something to eat.

Making their way to the dining hall, they were only about 10 minutes early for lunch. Waiting, the two got to talking, quietly, so as not to spoil the surprises for anypony that happened to be within earshot, about plans for the show. The discussion continued well into the meal, where they sat nearly isolated on the far end of the long table. Blueblood was far too accustomed to the fine works of the palace chefs to really take note of meal quality, but Trixie made a variety of pleased sounds throughout the meal whenever her mouth wasn’t in motion regarding the show. Both agreed that getting the sword movements down should probably be the first thing they do, Trixie made it clear that she was not willing to sacrifice blood, or worse, to put on a performance. She mumbled something about it not being that kind of act as they finished eating and headed back to the large room with the pillars and boxes of props.

Once they’d gotten some suitably showy moves choreographed, the two of them set up the stage and moved all the boxes of things they weren’t using off to the side of the room. The trickiest part of their preparations was practicing the sword routines while staying balanced on the wires and remembering where each of the walkable lines began and ended without stopping to carefully look for them. Luckily, Trixie seemed to know the slow-falling spell too. After a few hours, they were all ready for the big show.

---

“So tell us old chap, how did it go?”

Fancy Pants took a bite of his croissant as he awaited an answer, Fleur De Lis leaning happily against his shoulder.

On the other side of the little table in The Gilded Gourmet, Blueblood shrugged. “Honestly? It’s a touch difficult to discern. The crowd cheered even when I leapt to the wrong wire and we had to improvise a little until Trixie found an adjacent one in just such a position that we could perform the rest of the movements without worry of cutting one another’s wires by mistake. Or eachother.” Shuddering slightly, he levitated another small bundle of hayfries to his mouth.

It had been a few days since he had been Trixie’s assistant and was having lunch with one of the few ponies he could tolerate in Canterlot, plus a few hanger-ons, sharing the abridged version of the story. Luckily, one of those hanger-ons wasn’t covered in frosting this time. Unluckily, the other one had attached herself to him as they’d been seated.

Despite the noblemare at his side, makeup so thick he couldn’t tell if her very pale green coat just had no color in the fur around her face, bright blonde mane done up in a bun, and a dress that said ‘Somepony probably died to pay for this thing’, the prince smiled. “Though they positively roared when the bowling ball-pearl appeared from under the ‘pirate’s’ cape.”

Things had gone well with Trixie’s magic show. After raising the moon, Luna had likely attended to make sure he hadn’t skimped out on the task she’d set him to that morning, but there were a few times he’d caught sight of her cheering and clapping her hooves like a filly as the show went on. The sight might have been strangely adorable if not for the fact that he’d needed to stay focused for his part in the performance.

“Handsome and talented,” the mare clinging to Blueblood’s side cooed, “you’re truly amazing, my prince…”

He knew this wasn’t the first time this particular crown-chaser had latched onto his royal person, but he could not for the life of him remember her name whenever it might have come up. This, he believed, while a minor faux pas, was a silver lining, as not remembering somepony’s name usually seemed to agitate them… Or make them think he was playing hard-to-get. Very silver lining, he thought.

He'd long ago learned that most of those that approached him did so for one of three reasons:

They wanted money, be it in the form of patronage or favors for a "friend".

They wanted status, hoping to gain prestige and popularity through proximity to "important" ponies. It was a problem Fancy Pants seemed to have even worse than Blueblood himself, yet infuriatingly never seemed bothered by, always guiding his followers like a maestro does an orchestra.

And finally, they wanted a ring, everything affiliated with the title of Mrs. Blueblood, be it real or not. The one attached to him right now was almost certainly one of this last category.

Before he could think up a way to indirectly insult her, Fancy Pants spoke up, his oddly infectious cheer as vibrant as ever. “Sounds like it was a smashing performance, Blueblood my boy, and very kind of you to give that lone showmare a helping hoof.” Fleur nodded gently in agreement, but for a moment, he appeared to be slightly puzzled. “I must ask, though, whatever so inclined you to partake in such a thing? I’ve not known you to be so, shall we say, adventurous?”

Blueblood didn’t need to look at Whatever Her Name Was to know she was looking at him with a twinkle in her eye now.

“Real sharpened swords at a height great enough for the fall to surely be at least quite painful,” Fancy continued, Glittery Dress deflating as the conversation took a turn away from where her mind had taken it, “I dare say, it sounds like something straight out of the works of A. K. Yearling, good show!”

A. K. Yearling, the prince pondered, I forget which series she was involved with… The Cthuclop Mythos? Harry Trotter? Bridle and Prejudice? I think it had something to do with-oh! Adventurous, he said, that was almost definitely Daring Do.

“Mm, yes,” he uttered, “I suppose.”

Truth be told, the climactic clashing of blades in the shadows above the audience, Trixie in her pirate garb and him looking the part of the heroic royal trying to retake what she had stolen, had made him feel more alive, if only for a little while. He remembered the dream he’d had featuring the poster-pony of adventure herself purporting to be his mother, calling him to a life of danger and excitement, and truth be told… He wasn’t sure he was completely against the idea.

It had been fun, really, not terribly safe, but fun! Part of him wanted to do something crazy like that again, another part of him knew he had duties to attend to, social functions to appear at-nothing’s coming up for a while-tasks to complete whenever his aunts should come up with them-Luna congratulated me for a job well done and they can contact me rather quickly any time-an assortment of rich, but apparently not rich enough mares and yes-ponies to contend wi-oh bother this nonsense, I’m going in search of adventure! He’d traveled the world, certainly, but things almost always went rather uneventfully, with the help of his usual three security ponies. I’ll, I don’t know, pack a bag of tools and the like, maybe go explore a region nopony’s ever been to, should I bring my guards, or go it alone and-

It was at this point he noticed the greenish-white hoof waving in front of his face. “Yoo-hoo? Prince Blueblood?” Nameless Noblemare #74 was smiling at him with eyes half-lidded. “Does that mean you accept?”

He blinked, looking at Fancy and Fleur as if hoping the unheard proposal would be made clear in their eyes. All he could tell was that they both seemed uncomfortable. “Err,” he began, answering the question as eloquently as he could in these situations. “No thank you, I could probably buy one myself.”

The other three at the table went wide-eyed with shock. This was all he needed to know his answer had been one of many wrong ones.

“B-buy one?!” Sputtered Fleur.

“I say, dear prince,” Fancy Pants added hesitantly, “that seems… distinctly off, doesn’t it?”

Better to come clean now, probably. “Sorry,” Blueblood muttered, “was lost in thought.”

“T-that’s alright,” Makeup Blondie said, looking considerably uncomfortable with her eyes resting anywhere but on him, “I’ve actually got to be going now, fare thee well, Prince, Mr. Pants, Whateveryournameis, bye!”

Never had the three of them seen somepony move that fast in clothes that expensive. Fleur might ordinarily have made a sour face at being identified as just an accessory, but it didn’t matter right now, she was with her Cheri, whom, given a heart-felt discussion they'd had a few days back she held no doubt at this point still cared about her.

It was also the first, perhaps the second time the prince had driven a pony of her sort away while fully meaning to, and with no idea how he did it. He was weighing the pros and cons of asking what her request had been when he’d noticed the awkward silence had become crushingly heavy.

“Ssssoo,” he prodded, “What have you been up to, Fancy Pants?”

The mustachioed gentlecolt regained his usual calm grin. “Oh, I had a most fascinating day earlier this week, a game of chess with the Princess of the Night! Using actual ponies as the pieces!”

Blueblood would form plans for his next adventure later, but this sounded interesting…

Author's Notes:

Celestia really did just want to make the most of the architecture. You ask ponies to build you a castle just big enough for your needs as their ruler and they make, well, a PALACE. It seemed like such an indulgent waste at the time…
If you’re wondering what Fancy was talking about at the end there, I’d refer you to the comics, micro-series #10. :3