As the sparkling quartz doors of the Imperial Throne Room closed with a thud, Princess Cadence released a long-suffering sigh of relief. She stretched out her wings and gave a few light flaps to work out the kinks from being held closed for so long. Annoying tingles and twinges ran up and down her spine, side effects of being forced to hold a regal posture for hours at a time.

“Some days, I just don’t know how Celestia did this for a thousand years,” she muttered dryly. She walked unsteadily down the stairs. Her hind legs, having long ago fallen asleep, protested their neglect with the irritating sensation of pins and needles. With a tired smile, she dismissed the Throne Room guard detail and made her way to her chambers.

Along the way, she had plenty of time to curse the layout of the Crystal Spire: as Princess, her chambers were located near the top of the structure. Unfortunately, the throne room was near the bottom, only one level removed from the entry foyer, to shorten the journey for ponies seeking audience. While that was all well and good for her ponies, it did make for a long climb to her bed on top of an even longer day of Court.

As she cleared the final flight of stairs, the stresses of the day began to melt away. The comforting image emblazoned on her door called out to her, signaling her daily sojourn was nearing its end. The two intertwined Cutie Marks, a Crystal Heart and a field of overlapping white and pink starbursts, reminded her of the thin silver band wrapped around the base of her horn.

“Good evening, Your Majesty,” greeted Sir Pyrite, one of the two Crystal Knights assigned to guard her chamber doors. His partner, Sir Rigid, also gave a shallow bow as she approached.

“Evening, boys,” she replied casually. She and Twilight made a point to be close to their personal guards, and Pyrite and Rigid were closer than most. Their official assignment was as part of Twilight's retinue, but the two Princesses spent so much time together it hardly mattered. Cadence knew them well enough to know Rigid was just returned to duty after Twilight granting him leave for the birth of his first foal(a colt), and that Pyrite had the second-best poker face in the Imperial barracks.

Both having been practically raised in the Canterlot Palace, she and Twilight had found befriending their guards a comforting familiarity when they had first come to rule the Empire. In return, after Sombra, a friendly Sovereign was a welcome change for the crystal ponies, and the Knights were the ponies with whom they spent the most time: a bit of friendly conversation with a guard or a maid tended to have a Butterfly Effect as gossip diffused through the Spire, then out through the city.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, Cadence couldn’t help but think of the many lessons on ruling imparted to her over cups of tea with her Aunt.

Today, however, had been worse than normal and left her little energy for chitchat. As the door closed behind her, she made a note to apologize in the morning for her brusque manner.

The moment she was alone, she began shedding her regalia. As she crossed her bedroom to her mirror, she noticed Twilight sitting by their balcony doors, her back to the room. Just seeing her wife put her in a better mood. A flicker of blue magic tossed her crown on her makeup desk, and she moved to envelop her wife from behind. Her wings spread forward, cocooning Twilight as Cadence closed her eyes and buried her nose in her wife’s mane. The scent of lilacs and lavender filled her nostrils.

“You have no idea how lucky you were to play hooky today,” she teased. As Crystal Consort, Twilight had nearly all the same powers as her, and frequently sat in on Court, or even conducted it herself. Having Twilight by her side made even the most insufferable petitioners more bearable. Some days, though, Twilight’s schedule kept her away. Those days tended to be the longest, the most frustrating, and the most tiring.

Cadence sagged, her weight falling against Twilight’s back, and she noticed how tense the muscles against her chest were.

“Twilight, is something wrong?”

Twilight’s breathing hitched, and her face, turned away from Cadence, looked towards an array of photos on their dresser. The pictures showed various snapshots of them across their lives: the long-past foalsitting days, their early courtship, the two of them together at Twilight’s coronation as an Equestrian Princess, their wedding, their honeymoon…

A goofy grin spread across Cadence’s face as the last photo, depicting her and Twilight on a beach in Bactria, brought back recollections of the tradition newlywed celebrations that had filled the nights in the Camel nation. They'd been clumsy, hot, passionate nights, and she cherished the memories they'd made.

“A thousand lifetimes,” Twilight whispered, her voice hoarse. The dopey smile on Cadence’s face vanished as she turned to Twilight in concern.

“Twilight?” she asked worriedly.

“I was ready to spend a thousand lifetimes with you,” Twilight croaked. “There was nopony else I would have rather spent my eternity with.”

Confusion and unease washed over Cadence. She tightened her wings around Twilight as she tried to lean around and catch her eye. Cadence had to crane her neck to see her face, she saw Twilight had turned her attention to their enormous, double-Princess sized bed. She followed Twilight’s gaze, and her stomach dropped through the floor.

Sitting limp on their plush, violet comforter was a used condom.

Cadence’s eyes swelled, and her jaw dropped wordlessly. Her mouth was as dry as the Saddle Arabian deserts, and suddenly her body felt as if it was made of lead.

“I never believed the rumors, the gossip about you,” Twilight seemed to be speaking as much to herself as Cadence, “There was never a shadow of doubt in my mind that you were being faithful. I loved you, with all my heart. I trusted you with everything.”

As Twilight spoke, fresh tears began to cascade down her salt-streaked cheeks.

“I thought you loved me.”

Cadence’s heart shattered at Twilight’s broken, betrayed whimper.

“I do love you!” Cadence insisted, tightening the feathered cage and throwing her forelegs around Twilight’s side.

“Then why?” Twilight mewled, choking back sobs.

“I-I don’t know! It was stupid! I was stupid!” Cadence began to cry herself, the consequences of her actions proving too much as she desperately clung to Twilight’s unresponsive form.

“How many times?”

“W-what?”

“How. Many. Times.” Even as she asked how many lovers her wife had taken behind her back, Twilight didn’t seem to be able to summon the strength for proper anger, only a dim facsimile.

Cadence wanted to answer, wanted to tell Twilight that it was just once, just one stupid mistake. A fluke, an outlier in the data. Something to be disregarded in the grand scheme of things.

But she couldn’t.

Not honestly, at least, and in the heat of the moment she lacked the cognitive order necessary to even begin to form a deception. Truth be told, she had lost track of how many times she had forsaken her wife, and the realization made her sick.

Cadence’s silence plunged another dagger into Twilight’s chest, and she punctured the silence with another question.

“Who?”

Please don’t ask that.

Unlike her previous question, Twilight seemed to fixate on drawing an answer. She asked again, “Cadence, who?”

Please, please don’t ask me that.

Cadence clung as tightly as she could to Twilight, hoping against hope that the gesture would placate her, even for only a moment.

It did not, and Cadence watched in growing horror as an aura of raspberry light engulfed Twilight’s horn and the offending rubber. Cadence’s recognized it immediately as an identification spell, and before she could even attempt to intervene a cloud of grey smoke arose from their bed.

Please, Twilight, no.

The cloud slowly gained coherence as the spell worked to identify the sample’s source.

In an instant, Twilight’s lethargy was replaced with white-hot fury. Her eyes blazed, and her wings shot out to knock Cadence away. Twilight's horn ignited like a solar flare, a burning tribute to her awe-inspiring power. A blast of arcane energy like an exploding star shook the Crystal Spire to its foundations as Twilight unleashed a teleportation spell more violent than any Cadence had ever seen. In her wake, the crystal floor where Twilight had stood boiled from the wrathful spellcasting.

Cadence froze, half in agony, half in panic, as her eyes bounced between the bubbling floor and the Cutie Mark floating above their bed.

The blue kite shield emblazoned with a pink starburst stared back at her, offering nothing but silent condemnation.