Twilight had to admit, she’d never thought that Prince Blueblood’s fourth villa would be so humble.

She was in Baltimare, a small town thriving through trade and voyages with distant lands. Sea salt practically permeated every house and room, and this hillside vista overlooking a busy port, fully docked with large business vessels, was no exception. The train was too early for Spike and would eat into most of his day off so she left him sleeping back at the library. Twilight sat within a relatively small office, one desk, two chairs, three liquor cabinets, four self-portraits, five business cabinets, and a lot of simple naval decorations. Other than that, she found the lack of gold and jewellery made the place seem undeveloped. As in, not yet… Blueblood-ish.

Okay, so it was humble for him.

She had been kindly escorted to her seat in front of a messy desk by the ever gentle Platinum Service. She remembered him from when she was younger, back when that gold fur hadn’t lost its lustre. For now she eyed the door behind her as she straightened up the desk top, a habit everypony told her to break but she saw no logic behind it. Where was the sense in leaving things messy? It wasn’t like this had the ‘artistic’ value that Rarity placed in her inspiration room.

She worked away with lavender magic shuffling the desk top, neatening quills and papers and drawers opened and shut. All the while she thought about the oddity that was meeting with the prince itself.

‘Why couldn’t this happen back in Canterlot?’ A light frown creased her features as she worked to remove the dog-ear ruining a blank parchment with her fingers, her tongue poking out. A thought re-entered her mind, slowing her and her magic as it took her focus. ‘Maybe it’s about the letter and Vincent.’

As she leant back into her cushioned seat, the table now neat and tidy, her eyes rose to the ceiling as memories resurfaced. Her first time encountering him back at the library, a vision of him standing there vigilant, professional, and masked. Words sprung to her mind: statuesque, puzzling, polite, and most prominently, distant.

The second time was as he stood amongst quivering wrecks of his spared enemies: the diamond dogs. He was the same, but he showed consideration. He was offering them a safe haven rather than a dungeon. Was he always like that when he worked? She could believe so. Then when the mask came off…

Those golden eyes were potent, and along with the wisps of magic flowing out she saw the brutal strength in his emotions as he looked at each and every ogre. With breath-taking speed he struck, blocked blows, and with indifference he first regarded the brutes before a fanged sneer became the last thing they saw. He was raw beneath that mask. It made sense when Rarity claimed he had no idea he was making such expressions. They were terrifyingly honest. With that in mind, the image of him looking to the diamond dogs in the aftermath surfaced.

It was brief but… he looked slightly hurt before a stoicism seemed to take him.

The door opened and she turned to face Blueblood. Handsome smile, ivory tuxedo, brushed tail, cutie mark groomed, charming saunter; yep, the pinnacle of Canterlot deception. He strolled over to her whilst bowing his head, a well-cared for alabaster horn catching the light of morning.

“Good morning, Princess Twilight Sparkle,” he said with an elegant tone, “I apologise for keeping you waiting. I had to deal with a local lord attempting to swing his weight of influence. Naturally I sunk him with it.” He chortled whilst Twilight bore a polite smile. Same old, same old. He took his seat opposite her, a brow steadily rising.

“Oh, it’s nothing, really.” She replied, half sincere. It was nice to travel; she’d spotted some pearls that Spike would love. Of course, such things were pointed out to her by the locals in reverence to her alicorn-slash-princess hood, but she was still adjusting and expected as much.

“No crown?” She was taken back briefly, blinking before answering.

“I don’t usually wear it.”

“Ah.” It was all he said.

A simple retort for a simple response. His smile grew wider as she regarded him with polite eyes. She wasn’t dressed as most royals were, something she took from her baby sitter. Cadence had a nifty little crown, and so did Twilight, but neither of the two had frocks and dresses like Princess Celestia and Luna. Well, save for the special occasions.

It was at this that Prince Blueblood leant back.

“I suppose somepony thrust into royal duties wouldn’t know of proper etiquette and protocol,” he remarked. He also must have ignored her deadpanned expression. “Regardless, I’m not here to judge your appearance.”

“Is there something to be judged?” Twilight fired back, folding her arms. He immediately raised his hands, eyes wide.

“No-no no no, not at all.” He back pedalled, slipping on his slick voice.

“Really, because it sound like you’ve brought me all the way down so you could criticise me.”

“I meant that as a princess you can start to expect certain changes,” he explained with an eye roll. He pulled open a draw, his horn sparking with white magic. “Attire and appearance is an important aspect of a royal; you must look the part.” Twilight scoffed.

“As the Princess of Friendship I kind of have to look approachable.” She glared at him. “I don’t spend my days bickering amongst the wealthy bigots.” His stare turned icy, befitting those eyes.

“And nor do I, Twilight Sparkle, nor do I.” She quirked a doubtful brow for a second before several small books piled onto the table. They lost their ethereal glimmer.

“Now as for why I called you I—“ Prince Blueblood glanced down at the desk for the first time, eyes darting across the surface. “Oh…”

“You’re welcome,” Twilight replied with slight aggression, leaning further back into her chair.

“You did this?” Blueblood asked, earning a gentle nod in response.

“Yes. I tidied up a few things.” She could have made a comment about keeping up appearances, and how they extended to a clean work surface but she was better than that.

“Well, thank you.” Now that surprised her, and it showed in her startled-eyed expression. “I’m sorry, there’s been a lot that’s demanded my attention in recent days. I should have made better efforts to keep things presentable.”

“Oh.” This certainly caught her off guard. She sat back up, arms folded on her lap, wings twitching. “Well it was hardly problem. I should probably apologise for meddling.” He shook his head.

“You thought so enough to fix it, so obviously it was. Anyhow…” He used his magic to spread five of the books-- well, journals really—across the desk. They were typically slim, save for the far right which was twice as thick as the bulkiest of its siblings. It was even colour coded; six stripes of pale coloured pages bound between card covers, the bottom section being black and the thinnest. Her amethyst eyes lingered before she looked back to Blueblood.

“As a princess, you will be expected to perform certain duties, which involves travel.” The journal furthest left slid towards her, encased in a snowy glow. “Delegate meetings, diplomat conferences, royal councils, annual balls, town festivities, etc, and one thing will be common throughout it all.”

“A dress code?” she interrupted, cutting him off. He pursed his lips, nodding with his head bobbing side to side.

“Yes, but that changes depending on the event. What’s fashionable versus what is traditional are the reoccurring factors, but what is worn that year changes like the seasons.” He opened the cover with his magic, the eyes of both royals looking to the contents beneath.

“This, however, is something you cannot afford to be without at such events. I’d suggest reading through before coming to your conclusion. There are duplicate copies. All outstanding, but the last journal’s my favourite.”

Princess Twilight Sparkle opened her eyes to find herself holding the thickest of the dossiers between her fingers, but rather than a small office, she was home.

She was to host a small meeting in regards to the southern area, what the prince had eluded to being her domain. She scoffed at the notion; all of Equestria belonged to her tutor, Princess Celestia. With the diarchy being established, Princess Luna was starting to take up her royal duties. Even Twilight was given an important job or two. She still had no idea what Blueblood did and he acted as if he owned the country.

A low munching took her immediate focus. She sat in the middle of the library at the centre table, the stack of books Prince Blueblood gave her to her left, and a happily chewing drake beside her. Spike held the bag of pearls in one claw and a handful of pink iridescent orbs in the other.

“Could you please try to keep it down,” she asked with a good-natured smile and sisterly scowl, “You gonna make me not want to buy you more next time.”

“Sorry, Twi.” Spike’s garbled words brought forth a cascade of pearl fragments. After wiping his maw he sat the pearls down beside him. “So what time does Prince Snooty walk in?” Despite her look of disapprovement, Twilight didn’t bother to correct him. For the sake of the formality she suspected Blueblood would make fuss over, she had brought out her small crown.

A lovely piece of glistening peaks, each tipped with amethyst. As for the gilded hoofboots and royal mantle chest piece, well they could stay right where they belonged, in the closet until somepony can resize them to fit. She sure as hay wasn’t bringing them out for Blueblood’s sake.

“Blueblood said he was going to arrive in an hours’ time so I want to quintuple check our triple check list before we head out.” She had long been accustomed to Spike eye roll that they were a part of her own checklist. And changeling imposter plan. He held out the scroll and picked up an inked quill.

“Did we ensure that the floor had been thoroughly swept, books freshly shelved and cleaned, and tables polished?” Whilst Twilight eyed her perfectly organised collection of literature, Spike took a moment to appreciate his handsome scaled features in the reflection of the table surface.

“Check!”

“Do we have snacks-slash-hors d’oeuvres?” Glancing to the right, standing beside the kitchen entrance was a white clothed table. Upon its surface were plates of local treats mixed in with some finer recommendations Princess Celestia had put forward. A rainbow of cupcakes lined the back, several of Sugarcube Corner’s best dishes mingling amongst plates of cheese-stuffed piquillo peppers, diamond shaped mushroom-polenta, and various other tasty nibbles. Spike smiled with pride at the enriching aroma of his own handiwork.

“Check!”

“Did we—“

“Twilight don’t you think we should go wait for the prince?” Spike interrupted, automatically ticking off everything else from the list as he looked up to her. “You know by the quintuple check of the triple check list we’re set and ready.”

He was met with a small groan.

“I know but… I don’t want to wait for him.” Is this how Princess Celestia feels before her own meeting with ponies she didn’t want to be with? How daunting. “I suppose if Princess Celestia is expecting me to take up more responsibilities then it’s only inevitable that I run into a few ponies that are gonna be a pain in the flank.” She glanced down to her number one assistant, her little surrogate brother, and smiled. “Come on Spike, let’s go.”

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Ser Vincent was the first off the train, closely followed by Prince Blueblood. He bore his full attire, the lack-lustre viridian coat matching the glossless-scaled armour beneath. His mask shifted left and right, his hidden gaze searching the platform. The masks he wore were always dulled, as to prevent reflection of light giving him away whilst slinking through the undergrowth.

He spied Princess Twilight and her draconic assistant looking to him, the knight taking a moment to keep his stare lingering on the princess. She seemed… genuinely happy to see him, or so her eyes said. The smile was rather placated, and fell when Blueblood moved towards her.

“Ah, I see you do wear that crown,” were his first words to the princess as he bowed low. “It’s lovely to meet you again, Princess Twilight.”

“It’s nice to meet you too, Prince Blueblood,” she said with a little curtsy. As the prince glanced to the drake she looked to see Ser Vincent had followed behind Blueblood silently. For someone his size that was disconcerting. “Welcome back Ser Vincent. I wasn’t sure if you’d be accompanying the prince today," she greeted warmly.

He tilted his head out of interest but kept that train of thought to himself. He instead spoke with a pleasant tone, “I go where I’m needed, Princess Twilight.” He inclined his head, fist on heart, before bowing. He remembered how he last left this train station. He was fairly certain that he had said something similar. It was all a murky haze the first three days bedridden with mana burnout. Upon returning to full height he caught sight of Blueblood refusing a handshake from Spike.

“I’m not going to shake hands with somedrake that just stuffed his face with snacks.” Spike didn’t hold back the irate stare, instead opting to glance to Vincent.

He extended his claw to him, completely ignoring Blueblood much to his chagrin. Ser Vincent took with a polite incline of the head. “Welcome back, Vinnie!” he chirped, visibly brightening. “Thanks for helping my friends a while back.”

Dropping the shake, Ser Vincent craned his head to face Blueblood briefly before settling on the town down the road. The Prince merely huffed before magicking a different, but equally stylish, briefcase from his gilded carriage. “It’s a pleasure to see you too, Master Spike,” Vincent said, taking a moment to take a deep breathe. His fingers twitched and phantom pains returned, but all in all, he was ready to face Ponyville once again.”

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Fluttershy, Applejack, and Rainbow Dash huddled close to the windows of Sugarcube Corner. They used the seats of the small booths in order to get the height advantage over the small crowed lining the pavements, hence why they didn’t join in the fruitless task of nabbing a good enough spot to see the royal walk by.

Of course when the crowd bowed low all was revealed. There Princess Twilight was escorting the regal Blueblood, flanked by four shimmering guards and a miffed looking Spike. Each unicorn guardsmen sported a tabard over their armour, each depicting a six pointed sun in the center of their chest. They marched spears in hand and short swords sheathed upon their battle skirts.

Naturally, Rarity avoided embellishing Blueblood and simply sat in a booth close to the counter with a magazine in her grasp. She was dressed well, naturally; the beauty wore a modest dress, a sapphire ensemble that cut off by the knee and remained short sleeved. It was, sadly, to be the last day that it was fashionable to wear, and as such, she’d pay her respects. Once again, she was the only one of her friends to be wearing anything, fashionable or otherwise.

“—No good, frou-frou, diamond spooned—“

“Yeesh AJ, let it go already,” Rainbow said with exasperation. Still, the farmer, wringing the brim of her hat between her hands, continued.

“—Snake biting, vermin lovin’, weed munching—“

“Oh, Applejack, was it really that bad when he said he didn’t like your food?” Fluttershy’s sweet voice was calming for most, but not for the tail-lashing apple farmer that could only glare out the window and nod.

“Come now, Applejack,” Rarity chipped in from over her magazine. “If anypony here has a right to pout then it’s me.” The farmer ignored her and continued her frustrated muttering, her peachy fur and blonde mane catching the light. Rarity, though as inclined to smear the name of Blueblood as Applejack, had agreed to be at least civil with him when she was in Canterlot. Still no apology.

“Well hey, look who came back.” Rainbow remarked with a nod of the head, her rainbow mane flicking over her ear as she tilted her head. “Dude’s still wearing the mask, huh?” Applejack came back to the world blinking and leaning back from the glass she had been fogging up with subdued rage.

“Huh?” She planted Stetson back upon her head, resting her free hand on her bare hip, above her triple apple cutie mark. “Well, shoot. Figured we’d get gold out of pea pods before he came back.” With an arched brow and piqued interest, Rarity glanced back over.

“Who’s back?”

“Ser Vincent!” Fluttershy said with a smile and twitch of the wing. Rarity tightened her grip on her magazine as the buttery pegasus looked back. “I hope he’s all better now, I wonder if he’d like to know that Mr Yig Jr. is healthy again.”

The knight in question played rear guard, his mask rotating from side to side as he scanned the crowd. Both Fluttershy and Dash noted how some of the crowd fixed him with a nervous stare, completely avoiding eye contact when he looked their way. He continued the steady walk, hands neatly behind his back and head held high.

A door behind the counter burst open, the scent of baked goods thickening in the air to evoke a light cough from Rarity. Then again, perhaps it was mist of flour rolling out like thick chalky smoke. And there, with a pink silhouette was the prized baker of the establishment: Miss Pinkamenia Diane Pie.

Emerging from the fog of cooking to the sounds of a mysterious tribal beat, set to daunting rhythm, she bore a heavily stained apron and the fur of her arms had dabbings of frosting. Two war streaks of flour marked her cheeks, her curly tail tipped with snowy powder, and in her mitten-clad hands was a plate of creamy confectionery. With a thousand yard stare, she eyed the passing knight with deep blue eyes.

“Are you here to see His Greatness pass by as well?” Rarity remarked with obvious disdain, finishing with an indignant sniff and fixing a lock of mane. She took another dainty whiff of air, pleasantly surprised by sweet scent coming from whatever Pinkie had baked. “My, what is that delightful treat?”

“Pie.” Pinkie said gruffly.

The drumbeat still rang on.

“What kind of pie?” Dash inquired from wear she peered out the window, pointed ears swivelling to face behind her.

“Banoffee.” Again, Pinkie was gruff and curt. Her stern stare lasted a whole minute before she turned to face behind her with an innocent, sweet smile.

“Okay, Pound Cake, stop playing with the pots and pans now!” she yelled with a sweet sugary voice.