After my little “chat” with Lady Rose Quartz, I find I’m in too foul a mood to continue my carnival tour. Alicorn empathy, you see, is a two-way street, especially for yours truly. I’m affected by the moods of those ponies (and zebras, and gryphons, and diamond dogs, and minotaurs, and…) that are around me, but by the same token especially strong moods in me can affect the collective mood of those around me. The magical radiance of the Crystal Heart only adds to the effect. Most of the time, this is simply a harmless positive feedback loop: they’re happy, which makes me happy, which makes them happy, which makes me happy, etc.

The downside is that, when I’m, say, in a towering rage, or simply sulking, I actively make other ponies feel worse by my mere presence. Even in a bad frame of mind, I don’t want to hurt other ponies (well, most other ponies), and I certainly don’t wish to spoil Twilight’s event or inadvertently cause some international incident. I give my thanks to my fellow princess and make some excuses about not feeling well (technically true) before heading out. I notice Auntie Luna engaged in a beanbag throwing contest with some of the delegates from Minotauria, but I don’t see Auntie Celestia anywhere. Odd, she loves this sort of informal event.

I hope nothing’s the matter with her.

I dismiss my guards once we’ve safely made it back to the palace. Now I’ve got a bit of time before I have to be anywhere again – rare enough these days. I could go and relax somewhere or even try for a nap, but I have far more important things to do. I enter our chambers, lock the door behind me, and promptly teleport down to my laboratory. If there’s time to be spent, I might as well put it to good use.

I peer down through my microscope at the blood sample, scratch a few observations onto my notepad, and set it aside. Next I look through a second microscope at another blood sample, write down more observations, and move on to the next one. I repeat the process four times in total - one blood sample (of the same blood type) from each race of pony: earth pony, pegasus, unicorn, and alicorn.

I look down at my notes. The pen I’m holding snaps in half.

I repeat the experiment a total of ten times, using ten different blood samples from ten different ponies. Well, except the alicorn sample, obviously. I only know four of those, and of them I have access to only one regular supply of blood. The results are the same each time.

Mental note: I need more pens.

The same. They’re all the motherbucking same. I can’t find any innate differences between the lot. The same thing my earlier chemical and magical analyses suggested.

“AAAARRRRGGGGHHHH!”

I pound the floor in frustration. My hoof hits it hard enough to send small chips of crystal and stone spinning in all directions and rattle the furniture around me. I don’t care, so I do it again. There’s a pretty deep imprint on the stone floor, and one of my bookshelves comes perilously close to falling over. I should probably stop now.

I toss my notes aside and collapse backwards onto the wall. What is it?! What’s the secret?! Why can’t I motherbucking find it anywhere I look?! I am an alicorn, you’d think I’d have some sort of innate mystical insight into this sort of thing. You would also be totally wrong. I need to know: in real, scientific, non-allegorical terms, what is the difference between the mortal and immortal subspecies of pony? Or, to put it in laypony’s terms: what is it that makes a mortal pony into an alicorn?

That’s the secret I need, I just know it. If I can find what the difference is that causes us alicorns to live forever, I can craft a new body for Shining that will never sicken, weaken, or rot away with age. Then he won’t have to suffer anymore, and we can be a proper husband and wife again! If only I’d had the bright idea to do this testing before I or Twilight ascended! I pound the floor yet again and seethe at my lack of foresight. I’m sure if I could have studied unicorn Twilight and alicorn Twilight, or even pegasus me and alicorn me, side-by-side I’d have been able to figure it out.

I check the time out of the corner of my eye. Damn and blast! Tartarus’ gates! I’ve only got twelve more minutes before I’ll need to head to another inane event whose importance pales next to the task I’m attempting. I get back to my hooves. I don’t have the time to perform a proper experiment before leaving – but I can at least check up on those cultured cell samples I’m growing.

Hang on, Shiny. I’ll get you out of there yet, one way or another.

So swears Princess Mi Amore Cadenza.

“Come on, BBBFF!” giggles Twily. “You’ll have to do better than that if you want to catch me!” She briefly pauses to wiggle her rump at me before taking off again, still giggling.

I give an exaggerated maniacal laugh. “Oh, you won’t get away from me, you little kite thief! Come here!”

Twily and I are playing a game we made up when she was a little filly: kite thief. She steals my kite from me however she can, and then I have to run her down and grab her to retrieve it. She has it soaring above her head as she bolts this way and that through the fields that surround the Crystal Empire’s heart in the middle of summer.

Is this a bit of a foalish pastime for siblings that are centuries old and weighted down with the responsibilities of rulership to indulge in? Probably. Does that mean we’re going to stop? Buck you, no. I have to deal with serious and important issues that come with co-ruling a country every single day of my life. As a princess of Equestria, Twilight is in the same boat as me. But how often do I get to chase my giant alicorn sister around like she was a tiny unicorn filly hopping about my hooves again?

Not often enough is my answer.

Some ponies would say that such behavior is improper from a prince and princess of our venerable age. They would argue that it is our responsibility to model upright and socially correct behavior at all times, even in our recreational activities. To them, I say: stick it up your hindquarters and smoke it, you sad old fops; I’m having fun with my baby sister.

Eventually, Twily makes the mistake of running around, rather than over, one of the rolling hills in these grasslands. I grin and run right up to the top, then leap off to catch Twily in a flying tackle. We end up in a tangled mess of limbs, manes, tales, and kite string, laughing like madponies.

I haven’t had so much fun in a long time.

Fun fact: it is rather awkward to sit right near a sun goddess whom, a couple of hours ago, you insulted and smashed with a flower pot. Can make a stallion feel somewhat put out. More so than usual, I mean.

We’re in the auditorium I spent so much time setting up, listening to an elderly gryphon delegate speak, at length, of the peaceful and beneficent desires of his nation. I don’t believe a word of what I hear, which I think is less than one in ten of the words he’s actually saying. I’m much more concentrated on the ponies around me.

Celestia, Luna, Twily, Cadence, and I are in a special, reserved section near the front. The view is good, the acoustics are superb, and the show is boring. I’ve heard it all before. But now that I’ve heard what Celestia did at the opening feast, I’m determined to catch her spying on me here. I’ve seen those purple eyes wander over to “check on” me more than the hoofull of times she implied earlier. That she does it with her face pointed duly forward and that perpetual serene smile on her face just confirms my suspicions as to how practiced she is at this sort of thing.

Cadence doesn’t know about what happened between us earlier today – this is an issue between me and the sun goddess, and I’d prefer to keep it that way. Matters of honor are best settled between two competitors, after all. Fortunately for me, it seems that we actually agree on something, as Luna doesn’t know that I insulted and smacked her sister with a plant either. I know that because she isn’t blasting me with the Royal Canterlot Voice (and possibly much more than that).

Never was one for indirect action, our Princess Luna.

My other stroke of good fortune is that I’m seated directly between Twily, whom I’m reasonably confident would defend me – her mentor don’t need no protection from me, after all – and Cadence, whom I am sure would. An alicorn shield between myself and “dear Auntie” is just what the doctor ordered, I think. Public fighting between such long-time allies as Equestria and the Crystal Empire would hardly be a fitting sight at an event like the World Forum of Peace and Cooperation. As they say, most of politics is perception and for a ruler, the personal is the political.

“And in conclusion, his majesty Emperor Serath the Fifteenth, Son of Emperor Clawdius the Fourth, King of the Mountain Eyries, Duke of the Frozen Stormlands, Warlord of the Talon Flight, Conqueror of the Blighted Marsh, Master of Winds, Shaker of the Earth, Slayer of the Bandit King, Devourer of Hydras, Crusher of Foes, Patron of Friends, Ruler of the Sea of Sardassa, Warden of the Northern Wastes, and Emperor of the Gryphus Empire send unto all nations his most profound and sincere regrets that he was unable to attend this worthy event in person, most profusely thanks our gracious and benevolent hosts for their hospitality, and desires most eagerly that all nations should come together in peace, in tolerance, in respect, in friendship, and in brotherhood. Thank you.” The gryphon on stages holds his position while audience – at least the part of it that’s still awake – stamps politely for his speech.

It’s the last one of the evening, and thank goodness for that. Even my poise was starting to wear thin. I was worried I might start fidgeting in the middle of the speech for a while there. And while I do sincerely appreciate Emperor Serath’s reformations and his apparently genuine determination to break from the policies of his warmongering predecessors, I do wish he could have found a delegate that did not insist on ceremonially listing all of his titles every single time his name was mentioned in any context. All fifty-eight times.

I think my eyelid just twitched.

It is not that I don’t enjoy speeches on certain themes, but I confess I would rather have cast an illusion to sit in my chair and spent the time working in my lab. If I thought I stood a chance of getting away with it, I probably would have. I have no interest in conquest or violence, and I don’t need to listen to a meandering speech from an excessively-wordy gryphon to know the value of friendship, love, and tolerance. But being a princess comes with responsibilities to represent one’s empire at such conferences, and to do so with such dignity and good grace as befits such a lofty position. That’s what Auntie Celestia always taught me.

I stick close to Shiny as the crowd around us slowly files out of our auditorium, down the hallway, and out the doors to our waiting tables. There’s just tonight’s dinner left now, then we’ll be done for the day and I can get back to work. Some ponies stop to have chats on the sides of the hall. The line is briefly held back when a Saddle Arabian prince consort and a zebra delegate have to be pulled apart by our guards. As we walk along with the crowd I spy not a few nobles from the Crystal Empire taking advantage of the moment to have side conversations where the noise of the crowd will cover their own words.

Note to self: investigate these “whispers”. Who’s speaking out against Shiny? That’s not a crime (unless it escalates to threats, in which case it is) but I want to know who my prospective opposition consists of. And, just in case, who to go to first if there’s an assassination attempt. I don’t think anypony in my nobility is that stupid, but for Shining’s safety better to be over-prepared than under.

I nod as I see nobles go by. There’s Lord Agate and Lady Garnet, talking with a minotaur… Lady Amber having a chat with Lady Opal and Lord Onyx… Countess Kyanite and Lady Turquoise… Lord Larimar and a zebra… Lady Shining Sunstone (yes, it can be a mare’s name too) talking to Lady Moonstone… Lord Diaspore with Lady Crystal Gaze… Noticing a pattern with these?

Yeah, the ponies of the Crystal Empire still love their mineral-based names.

I frown as I see somepony else up ahead having a talk. Lady Rose Quartz. I didn’t think she’d have the guts to show her face in polite society for at least a few days after this morning. I appear to have underestimated her. And who’s that she’s conversing with? One of her whisperers? Could be a useful hint. I try and get a good look. If this minotaur would kindly stop blocking my line of sight…

Oh, it’s just Auntie Celestia. Nevermind then.

Dinner goes… well, as well as a meal where neither of us eats can go. I’m happy that everypony else seems to be enjoying the food better than the speeches, but I can feel the desire positively oozing off of Shiny. Poor stallion, it must be so frustrating to have to watch and remember but be totally unable to touch. A twinge of guilt hits me when I remember just who made him be this way and why. I stroke his back with my wing in hopes of giving him something else to think about while silently redoubling my vows to get him out of there as soon as possible.

I take an opportunity near the end of the meal to slip away from the table for a minute. I have some orders to give. It takes me some small amount of time to find one of the ponies I’m looking for, but at last my eyes settle on Feldspar. To the public eye, he’s just an unremarkable mid-ranking member of the palace kitchen staff. Off the record, I pay him and an assorted network of servants to report certain interesting details from their masters’ households. Damned useful for political purposes.

I cast a quick silencer over us. A princess lingering too long in public with a mere servant would be odd, but my eating habits are known to be… eccentric, so nopony should ask too many questions if I do this quickly.

I don’t bother with preamble. “Tell them to listen for anything about Shining Armor. I want names, dates, places, what’s said – anything you can get me on what the word is among the nobility.”

“Should I ask why?”

“Not really.”

“As you say, princess.”