Fleur de Lis. I wouldn’t say everypony knows that name, but I don’t consider it immodest to say it’s well known. Of course, I’m not at all modest, but the point stands. I’ve been to no small number of fashion shows under my cover identity, and nowadays the suitors amuse me at best. They may never know that I only have eyes for one stallion. Too bad he’s been stolen from me…

None of those ponies know how I used to feel. If you’d told me when I was thirteen that in a couple years colts would be putting my picture on their bedroom walls – and that I would like the idea – I would have accused you of having too much extract. I was convinced that colts weren’t interested in me, and besides, I was too focused on my work and my boss to care. I’d never really paid much attention to my own body. My father and brothers treated me like an ugly filly, so I just assumed that to be the case.

Then came the days leading up to my fourteenth birthday.

Oh, Fine. You can be such a nice guy when you want to.

—Fleur de Lis, Book of Shadows XLVIII,

June 11, 1007

The fountain made no sense whatsoever. It stood tall, its central column surrounded by statues of ponies from every race, all bowed in supplication to the great alicorn above. Below the ponies were a wide variety of races, all prostrate and being used as little more than stepping stones for the ponies above them. Water poured from the alicorn’s horn, flowing along her wings and tail to drip upon the heads of the ponies below, and then going farther to pour widely over the other creatures. The intent of the imagery was obvious, and it made sense in that there was a purpose to it.

But this vast work of art, with its superb craftsmareship and clear philosophical message, was situated in a room it barely fit in, with no windows or observation posts. It was as if it had been made for the express purpose of staying hidden.

Fleur stared up at the alicorn’s pale, emotionless face. Was it meant to be Celestia? It didn’t look like her at all.

Fine sat by her side, his coat lacking much of its hair and his mane still its natural, brilliant red. She could understand the coat would take time to heal, but after almost a week, didn’t he want to dye his mane again?

He spoke in griffon. “Do you recognize her, Fleur?”

She looked to the alicorn’s face again with a frown. “No.”

“It’s Princess Luna.”

She furrowed her brow, then glanced at him. “Who?”

He returned the look, expression soft. “Celestia’s younger sister.”

“Oh.” Celestia had a sister? Fleur observed the statue a little more closely. There was a resemblance, but only a slight one. She turned her attention to the ponies and creatures below the alicorn’s hooves. “Is she bad like Celestia?”

He gave a light laugh. “That’s… hard to answer. She can be good or she can be evil. It depends.”

Fleur cocked her head at him. “Depends on what?”

“Who is telling the story.”

This made no sense at all, but Fleur responded with only an “Oh.” Perhaps pretending to understand would be better than revealing her ignorance. “So where is she?”

“On the moon.” Fine stepped forward and dipped his hoof in the small circle where some of the water fell. Rather than one big pool, the assorted streams all landed in individual, small basins, such as the one just in front of Fleur. “Or in the moon. Never was clear on that. I only met her once, and she didn’t tell me much.”

Her jaw dropped. “You’ve been to the moon?”

Fine laughed, a far more honest and loud sound compared to the previous one. “Of course not, you silly filly. She came to me in a dream.”

“Oh.” Fleur chewed her lip in contemplation. “I thought only the Nightmare Pony could do that.”

He shot her a curious look. “She is the Nightmare Pony.”

The hair on Fleur’s back rose. She crept backwards, suddenly much more wary. “R-really?”

“Indeed.” He turned his face high to observe the statue. “When her evil half manifests, she becomes Nightmare Moon, bringer of Eternal Night.” He turned to set his hoof under her chin, guiding Fleur to look at him. “Just like you and me, she is a victim. She was Celestia’s first casualty.”

Fleur’s eyes darted to the statue’s face and back to his a few times. “I don’t understand.”

He shrugged and stepped back. “Eh, that’s okay. Maybe I’ll give you more details when you’re older. I didn’t bring you here to discuss ancient history.”

“No?” Her ears perked and she sat up straight. “Then why are we here?”

“For this.” He gestured to the water falling before them. “It’s time to start your training. The water test is a great start.”

“Water test?” She took a few cautious steps forward and peered at the dripping liquid before her. She couldn’t see anything special about it. She sniffed and detected no odd scents. It wasn’t a weird color. “What’s the water test?”

He smiled and gestured at the water once again. “I want you to hit the water.”

She blinked, shoulders slumping. “Um, hit the water?” At his nod, she shrugged. “Okay.” She sat and raised her foreleg, prepared to give a light punch.

“Without hitting the water.”

Fleur paused, then stared at her hoof as if it might do something miraculous. “I don’t… Oh!”

Her horn lit up, and the water parted into two streams due to a small, conical shield. She promptly thrust her hoof through the new opening, pulled it back, and gave him a grin.

Fine stared at her, ears folded and face slack. She winced and looked from the water to him. “Did I do it right?”

He pressed a hoof to his forehead and sighed. “Points for thinking outside the box… and making me feel stupid. I wish I’d done that when I was first given this task.”

She frowned, brow furrowing. “So… I did it wrong?”

Fine flashed a reassuring smile. “You did it wrong in a good way.” He raised his hoof and gave a small jab at the air. “No magic, Fleur. Just a simple hit. Go on.”

Her frown intact, Fleur examined the falling water. How was she supposed to hit water… without hitting it? She tried wrapping her head around this conundrum for a few seconds, but finally decided to do the obvious: she raised her leg and punched. Her hoof came back wet, as she expected. She examined it, then cast a curious look at Fine.

He grinned and moved a little closer to the water. “Not easy, huh? Like this.”

His hoof flashed forward, far faster than it had the first time. It went right through the stream, but when he displayed his fetlock to her, it was completely dry.

Fleur could only gape. “How did you do that?”

“Speed and reflex.” He punched again, then with his other hoof. Both came out dry. “You learn to watch the water and know when to strike, but you also have to be fast enough to pull your hoof out before the water hits.”

She peered at the water, coming so close it nearly fell on her muzzle. “So… I have to strike between the drops?” She sat back and tried again, only to bring a wet hoof back.

He nodded encouragingly. “You’ve got the concept, or at least the surface of it.”

She tried with her other forehoof. Upon yet another failure, she pouted and shook her hooves free of water. “What good is this supposed to do?”

Setting a hoof to her shoulder, he spoke quietly. “You’re going to be an Archon, Fleur. You need to be able to defend yourself. This is the first step to that goal.”

Defend herself? “But can’t magic do that?”

“And what if you lose your magic?” He tapped her horn lightly, making her flinch. “What if you end up with a horn ring on your little head? How would you defend yourself then?”

With a huff, she turned away and crossed her forelegs. “I just won’t let that happen. I’ll be too good.”

“Is that what you think?”

“Yes.”

His lips were near her ear, his voice only a whisper. “Do you think I killed your family with magic?”

Her entire body went stiff. Slowly, she turned to stare at him out of the corner of her eye. His face, right there at her side, was hard, his lip curled back to show his teeth. And his gaze... She recoiled, shivering as she recalled that first night that seemed like so long ago.

Then, as if nothing had happened, he was sitting up once more and smiling. “Magic is useful, Fleur, but it isn’t everything. You need to learn to defend yourself without it, or at times be able to use both your hooves and your magic at once.” He pointed at the water. “Practice. Every day. Two hours minimum.”

She gaped at him. “Two hours? B-but, what about school? I want to master illusions and gemcrafting!”

“Good, because you will still be attending classes and studying those things.” He leveled her with a firm look. “This is important, Fleur. I intend for you to bury me, not the other way around.”

She pouted once more and eyed the water. Two hours seemed like a terrible sacrifice. It was bad enough she had to sleep when she could be studying, but now this? Still, she was Fine’s apprentice now. She couldn’t say no, could she? “I guess. But if it takes longer for me to get my Supremacies, it’s your fault.”

Fine paused. “Wait, you’re going for dual supremacies?” He stared at her for a couple seconds, then shook his head. “And I thought I worked too hard.”

“I’ll do it!” She raised her muzzle in a haughty pose. “Maybe not dual, but at least in Illusions. I want to get a Mastery in gemcraft, though.”

“That’s still crazy.” He chuckled and offered her a light smile. “If that’s what you want, I’m not going to stop you. But—” The smile faded. “—you’re still going to train. I’m not going to let my apprentice die young because she didn’t learn how to throw a proper buck.”

She grumbled and glowered at the water, then swung her hoof through it. Still wet. “Fine. I’ll figure this out and get it over with.”

He chuckled at her glare. “You do that. It’ll only take two years.”

Grinding her teeth, Fleur sat up straight and prepared both her forelegs. “I’m not that slow.” She kicked with one, then the other. Still wet. Undeterred, she began to alternate her kicks in a rhythmic fashion. “Six months.”

He patted her on the shoulder. “Keep telling yourself that.”

Fleur glared at the water, her eyebrow twitching. It continued to drip into the small basin, innocuous and uncaring.

“I’m going to figure you out.”

The water offered no reply.

Growling, Fleur flipped the hourglass at her side and raised her hooves in the aggressive posture Fine had taught her. Balancing with practiced ease, she peered at her foe. She counted the drops, her right foreleg tensed in preparation. Three drops… eight… twelve…

Her hoof flashed forward.

It came back wet.

Grimacing, she started over.

Count the drops, punch, start over.

Count the drops, punch, start over.

She wasn’t even paying attention to the hourglass. All her focus was on the water, her timeless enemy. She would get this right. She was determined. Two more days. She couldn’t fail. She said she’d get it done, she would get it done! Strike after strike, wet every time.

Her blood boiled. Why was this so hard?

“Hey, birthday filly.”

With a cry, she spun about and struck, only to have her attack caught by the frog of a hoof. She blinked, then recoiled. “Don’t sneak up on my like that!”

Fine laughed at her scowl. “That never gets old.”

She huffed and crossed her forelegs. “Maybe to you. Some ponies don’t like surprises, you know.”

“Oh. Well, in that case…” He turned his head away in a haughty pose as his horn glowed, lifting two gift-wrapped boxes from his back. “I guess I’ll just keep these for myself. A pony who doesn’t like surprises surely doesn’t like gifts.”

Though her pose didn’t change, Fleur’s face went slack. “W-what? You… brought me gifts?”

“Of course! A filly should gets gifts for her birthday, shouldn’t she?”

Fleur cocked her head. “But my birthday’s not for another two days.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” The boxes resettled on his back and he turned away. “You probably don’t want them.”

“Wait!” She raised her hoof at him, then froze at his smirk. With a blush, she sat back down and rubbed her forehooves together. “Y-you really got me gifts?”

He turned back and set the two boxes down before her. “Well, in truth I only got you a gift. The square one’s cake. Strawberry flavored.”

Fleur looked to the boxes, then to Fine. She felt lost, uncertain of what to do or say, but deep down she felt a strange… lightness.

His eyebrows rose. His smile broadened. “Well?”

“I…” Her hooves hovered over on of the boxes. The ribbons were red, the wrapping paper a light pink. She just stared, mind blank, taking in the colors through a haze. Her hooves began to shake.

“Feur? What’s wrong?”

Her eyes were burning. Her throat constricted.

“A… A present. You bought me a-a present.”

He shuffled in place. “Uh… yeah?”

She pounced, hugging his neck tightly and burying her face in his mane. Tears poured down her cheeks, but she ignored them. Fine went stiff, but eventually patted her shoulder with an unsteady hoof.

“Uh… Fleur?”

She fell back, grinning through her laughter. “Thank you, Fine! I’ve never received a present before.”

He blinked, then leaned a little closer. “Never?”

“Never! This is…” She brought her knees to her chin, fighting to contain her enthusiasm. She broke into a fit of giggles and, unable to hold it back, began to pronk in place. “Best. Birthday. Ever!”

A touch of pink reached Fine’s cheeks as he smiled. “Okay, okay, it’s not that big a deal.”

“Yes, it is!” She gave him another quick hug, then grabbed the gift and shook it with her ear close by. “It so is. A present. You bought me a present!”

He averted his gaze, cheeks still glowing and a lopsided smile on his lips. “Are you gonna gonna shake it or open it?”

“Oh, right.” She set the box down and observed it from several angles. Eagerness swelled within her, made all the harder to resist by the happiness bubbling inside. But resist it she would, for this was her first present ever, and she was determined to savor it. She found the edge of the wrapping paper and carefully, delicately began to remove it.

Seconds passed, her heart pounding and her brow furrowed in concentration. The grin just wouldn’t leave her face!

Fine looked down at her work. “You do know you don’t have to protect the wrapping paper, right?”

With a giggle, she replied, “You open your gifts your way, I’ll open my gifts my way.”

“Whatever you say, Little Miss.”

Though it took no small amount of concentration, Fleur at last managed to get the wrapping paper removed. And with only a few small tears, too. Grinning, she gently set it aside and pulled open the box. What she found brought a small gasp out of her.

It was a dress. Most of it was blue, but there were black accents and trim, and small jewels decorated the shoulders and chest. She felt at the fabric and found it to be soft like silk. Carefully, she lifted it in her magic, turning it slowly to catch every angle. “This is…”

Fine shuffled in place yet again, his gaze turned away. “I, uh, know you were eyeing it. When you went to the etiquette courses. I thought, you know, you might like it.”

She turned to him. “H-how? You never attend those classes.”

He gained a wry smile. “I have my ways.” The smile faded and he stared at his hooves. “You do like it, don’t you?”

“Of course I do! It’s beautiful.” She grinned and felt at the soft fabric once again. “I never cared about clothes until I came to Canterlot. Even then, I always thought they’d be beyond my reach.” She gave him another hug. “Thank you, Fine! It’s wonderful.”

But then a thought occurred to her. She turned back to the dress with a small pout. “Oh… but… when will I wear it? It’s a little much for school, isn’t it?”

“Glad you asked. How old will you be?”

With a quizzical glance, she replied, “Fourteen. You should know that.”

His lips parted in a toothy grin. “Perfect. Just the right age to introduce you.”

Head cocked, she carefully set the dress back in the box. “Introduce me to what?”

“Canterlot.” He set a hoof to her shoulder. “I intend to groom you for a specific role, Fleur, one that I know you’ll excel at. You’re still too young for the real missions, but your cover? We can start that at any time.”

Her ears perked. That giddy feeling came back and her legs did a little dance. “Finally! I can’t wait to prove myself. What’s the cover going to be, huh?”

Fine sat back and tapped his chin with a wry smile. “Well, let’s see. Your special talent involves being charming. Your etiquette is near perfect, you’ve got grace and poise, plus you’re specializing in illusion magic.”

“And gemcraft!”

“And gemcraft.” He nodded as his smile broadened. “You can speak two languages, and I note you’ve been learning Prench recently. With the right outfit, you can look downright aristocratic.”

Fleur was leaning forward by now, hanging on to his every word. She knew he was leading her on, trying to build the suspense. She didn’t mind at all.

He eyed her for a moment, perhaps to tempt her a little. “You are going to be what we in the spy industry refer to as a ‘Little Princess.’ ”

All her thoughts slowed at the term. She eyed her hooves, brow low, then looked at him again. “A… what?”

“A Little Princess,” he repeated. “A Killer Queen?” At her dumbfounded expression, he scratched his chin in thought. “Femme Fatale?”

She latched onto that last one, eyes going wide. “Oh. Oh! Femme Fatale! I know what that is.” She blinked, then felt the blood rushing to her cheeks. “Whoa, w-wait a minute. Fine, I’m not near pretty enough for that.”

He threw his head back and laughed. “Not pretty? Fleur, have you ever looked in a mirror? Or better yet, haven’t you payed any attention at all to the colts at school?”

She opened her mouth, hoof raised… then ducked her head. “Um, no?”

Fine smirked. “Muzzle in a book all the time, eh? Well let me tell you: while you’re staring at magical equations and gem lattices, the colts are looking at you. I’ve had a number of agents suggest I send you down this track. While I question their incentive, I don’t think they have the wrong idea.”

Fleur’s brow furrowed. She shuffled and gave herself a once over. She saw legs that were too skinny, a neck that was too long and colors too pale to be considered engaging. “But I’m really not much to look at.”

Fine was silent, and she didn’t want to look at him. So she stared at her too-small hooves and pouted. Of course he would recognize the error of his suggestion once she pointed it out. How had he ever gotten such an idea? She was tempted to go hide in some corner where nopony could see her plainness.

“Fleur… Hasn’t anypony told you?”

She pulled her head back between her shoulders. “Told me what?”

A long pause.

“How pretty you are.”

Her head whipped up. She bared her gritted teeth at him. “Don’t do that.”

Rather than be intimidated, he merely tilted his head. “Do what?”

“Don’t lie about something like that!”

He leaned back, ears folded, but recovered swiftly, studying her with a hawkish gaze. Fleur merely snorted and leaned closer, her front lowered into an aggressive pose.

Fine sighed and rubbed his forehead. “By the Moon, you’re serious. Alright, forget the cake. Forget the damn water training, or studying, or anything. You and I are going out.”

Fleur’s ears lowered, her glare shifting to raised eyebrows and an uncertain frown. “Going out?”

“That’s right. You’re gonna put on that dress, we’ll eat at the fanciest restaurant in town, and you’re getting a makeover. And then—” He thrust a hoof in her face. “Then you’ll see how pretty you really are.”

She pushed his hoof out of the way, making room to gawk. “You can’t be serious. I have work to do!”

“Not tonight, you don’t.”

“But I— You can’t—” Fleur covered her burning face beneath her fetlocks. “This is not going to end well. Can’t we just forget we had this conversation?”

“No.” He walked until he was beside her, wrapped a leg around her shoulder, and leaned in close. He spoke with an earnestness she was reasonably sure she’d never heard from him before. “It’s not right, Fleur. What your father and brother did, how they made you look at yourself? It’s not right. You deserve better, and if nopony else is going to give it to you, then damn it, I will.”

He released her and turned away. Fleur stared at his back, fear rising in her mind at what he was about to put her through. When no other words came to her, she shouted, “But what if I don’t want to be pretty?”

He paused, tapping his chin with head held high. “Hmm… I suppose it’s possible.” He turned back to her and smiled. “Alright, I’ll make you a deal. We do this tonight, and if you decide you don’t like it then I won’t press you anymore. I’ll find some other way to focus your talents.” He raised his hoof to her. “Deal?”

Eyeing his proffered hoof warily, Fleur thought on the suggestion. Going out tonight and doing the things he said would be nothing short of mortifying. She could already hear the ponies at school laughing at her for even attempting to be attractive. Besides, there was no value in it. What good was being pretty going to achieve for an Archon?

But then, if she put up with it for one night, he’d drop it. She could nip this problem in the bud and not have to lose a lot of valuable time. One evening wouldn’t ruin everything.

With a sigh, she accepted his hoof bump. “Fine. Let’s get this over with.”

Fleur stared into the mirror of the dressing room. Her dress was black, composed of many layers with small decorations of lace. It wrapped around her body snugly, with a long V-shaped neckline criss-crossed with white thread. White stockings covered her legs and dainty black shoes adorned her hooves. Her mane draped over her shoulders to curl at the ends and shimmer in the light. It felt soft against her skin in a way she’d never imagined it could, and when she turned her head her locks bounced pleasantly.

On her face was only the smallest touch of makeup, giving her cheeks a rosier appearance. Nothing for the eyes, no lipstick. Compared to the rest of her body, her face felt downright naked.

And yet…

She turned to admi—observe her profile. Had her body always been shaped like that, or was the dress playing tricks on her mind? It wasn’t as uncomfortable as she’d expected. If fact, she found she could move quite easily. She tested this concept by walking a small circle, raising her legs high, and even bouncing once. Her dress remained intact, the skirt flowing about her legs almost like water. It was a little heavy, but not too bad.

The mare beside her – owner of the boutique – clapped her hooves. The pony’s grin hadn’t faded since the moment she’d learned Fleur was to be given a new dress. “Oh, I knew it would suit you perfectly! You were practically born for Cobic Filita!”

“Umm… sanks, Miss Cayenne.” Fleur’s cheeks burned as she took another look in the mirror. She fidgeted and chewed her lip, ears folding back. Maybe it did look kinda good on her.

The fashionista bumped Fleur’s shoulder and nodded for the curtained doorway behind them. “Come on, let’s show that uncle of yours the prettiest filly in Canterlot!”

That’s right, Fine was supposed to be her ‘uncle.’ Fleur wasn’t sure she liked that, though she couldn’t say why. She permitted the mare to drag her to the curtains as butterflies made quick work of her stomach. Fine would see. Sure, maybe she thought the dress looked… a little pretty on her, but that was the dress, right? She was still just Fleur. He’d notice, and then he’d change his mind, and then…

And then what?

“Thank you for waiting, Mr. Mud Pie!” Cayenne pulled the curtain open with her magic and stepped into the boutique’s showroom, high stepping as if she were the leader of some parade. “Just wait till you see what your niece looks like, she’s simply to die for!”

The butterflies tripled in number. Fleur swallowed and, keeping her head down, stepped out of the room. Oh, this was such a bad idea! Her eyes rose gradually. Fine sat on a bench on the opposite wall, and he wore a smile.

Not just a smile, though. He was absolutely beaming. He tapped his hooves on the floor in quiet applause, and she turned her face away quickly. If her cheeks got any hotter, what little makeup she had would melt.

“You’re beautiful, Fleur. I told you you would be.”

“I—” She closed her eyes, heart pounding. He was just saying that, wasn’t he?

Cayenne trotted around her, having all the appearance of a foal at Hearth’s Warming. “She’s magnificent. Her shape, her poise, her grace! I’ve worked with many a pony in my time, Mr. Mud Pie, but never has a walk-in possessed her level of natural talent. I’ve got a half dozen ideas from her colors alone!”

Fleur would have sat down were she not afraid of ruining the dress. She shifted from hoof to hoof, unable to stop the smile from coming to her lips. “I… umm… S-sank you.”

Fine smirked and waved a dismissive hoof. “Come now, Miss Cayenne. She’s my niece, I know how perfect she is. There’s no need to flatter her more. Believe me, you’ve made a sale.”

The air left Fleur’s lungs. She gaped at Fine, his words seeping into her mind. He was really going to buy her this dress? It had to cost a fortune compared to the other one! She was tempted to object… but it was really nice. It wouldn’t be all that bad if she accepted it, right?

“A sale? Are you kidding?” Cayenne brought a leg over Fleur’s back and set a hoof to each of her shoulders. She pressed her cheek to Fleur’s even as she looked to Fine. “I don’t care about the sale, Mr. Mud Pie. You can have it for free! On one condition.”

Fine raised an eyebrow, his smile shifting to a thin line.

“Oh, don’t give me that look! This pony.” Cayenne shook Fleur by the shoulders, albeit gently, and rubbed cheeks with her once more. Fleur was tempted to push her away. “This precious, beautiful filly! I have an Autumn Presentation coming up in a month, and Fleur would make the perfect model for my Young Mares line. You must let her take part in the show!”

Now Fleur did push her away, and took a few steps back for good measure. Her voice cracked as she cried, “But I’ve never modeled before!”

“Honey, you are a natural.” Cayenne turned to Fine and clapped her hooves together in an imploring pose. “Please, Mr. Mud Pie! Do you have any idea how hard it is to find good talent in this town?”

Fine voice betrayed no emotion. “I have an idea.” His eyes shifted to Fleur, then back to Cayenne. “Fleur is fourteen – well, in two days’ time. I can’t make the decision for her.”

Fleur’s jaw dropped; he was letting her decide? He should have just said no. What was he thinking, giving the mare hope like that?

“You hear that, Fleur? It’s up to you!” Cayenne bounced and landed facing the startled filly. She broke into wild giggles before grabbing Fleur’s hoof in both of hers. “I’ll pay you, if that’s what you want. And I can teach you anything you’re missing. I can introduce you to some Important Ponies, maybe even a cute, wealthy bachelor or two.” She laughed and winked at Fine. “If your uncle is okay with it, that is.”

Fleur looked to the mare’s hooves over her own, then at Cayenne. Her Illusions Supremacy and Gemcrafting Mastery came to mind, and she was a breath away from shouting ‘no.’ When she opened her mouth, however, the word wouldn’t come out. Instead, she stammered, “Y-you really sink I’m… pretty?” The spoke the word so quietly it was a wonder anypony could hear it.

Cayenne’s smile disappeared. She studied Fleur as if not knowing who or what she was.

Then she laughed and bumped her muzzle with Fleur’s. “You are precious. Little filly, you’re going to be on the minds of every colt from Manehattan to Las Pegasus!”

A smile reached Fleur’s lips. Catching it too late, she cast a fearful look at Fine Crime. Though his expression remained unreadable, she could have sworn she saw amusement in his eyes. She swallowed to loosen her throat and tried to think through the clouds in her head. Why was she even considering this? She had dreams, aspirations, goals.

Okay, Fine had proved his point. It was time for this train to get derailed.

Sucking down a deep breath, Fleur pulled away from Cayenne, whose smile slipped. “I am sorry, Miss Cayenne, but sis is not somesing I can just jump into. Is it alright if I sink about it?”

Let her down easy. Burn no bridges. Hint at the possibility and make no promises.

“Think about—” Cayenne’s lips twitched, somehow managing to avoid a frown, but her disappointment shined in her eyes. “I suppose. I mean, there’s still time before the Autumn Presentation, and even if you miss that, I’m sure there are other events we could do together.” She shuffled and put a little more effort into her smile. “Are you sure? I mean, I don’t want to rush you. It’s just… well…”

“I’m sure.” Fleur offered her most charming smile and gave a small bow. “Sank you so much for se offer. It’s just too fast. I have so much to sink about, but I promise to let you know before too long.” She averted her gaze with a blush and put a little worry into her tone. “I mean, sat’s alright, isn’t it? Se offer will stay open?”

“Oh, of course!” Cayenne nodded frantically. “Of course it’ll be open. Come by anytime.”

“Well, that settles that.”

Cayenne jumped so high, one might think Fine had screamed in her ear, rather than spoken normally from right beside her.

His smile was small, but Fleur saw the little twitch in his lip and knew he was barely containing a grin. “So, Miss Cayenne, how much do I owe for the dress?”

The mare pressed a hoof to her chest and sucked in a few sharp breaths, the tension slowly easing from her body. When she finally recovered, she gave a nervous giggle and brushed her mane out of her face. “Oh, no charge. Really! Just having a chance to work with your niece is payment enough.”

At last, Fine smiled. “Well then, thank you for your generosity! We’ll be in touch, won’t we, Little Miss?”

He started to turn away, but paused when Cayenne put a hoof to his shoulder. She leaned close and whispered something in his ear. He gave her a thoughtful look, which she responded to with a high-browed, hopeful expression. After a few seconds of studying her, he gave the smallest of nods. “Good evening, Miss Cayenne.”

The fashionista regained her grin. “Good evening, Mr. Mud Pie. And to you, Fleur. I look forward to hearing from you soon.”

They stepped out onto the Canterlot streets under an orange sky, the sun just beginning to creep beneath the horizon. Fleur still wore the black dress, and the heat returned to her cheeks at the thought of being seen out in public as she was. Whereas before she never paid attention to other ponies, now she couldn’t help noticing the eyes upon her. She noted, with a confusing mix of fear and pleasure, that she was garnering quite a lot of attention. Brushing a stray lock of her mane behind an ear, she focused her eyes on the path ahead. It did no good; every turned head, every raised brow, every hushed conversation brought more and more butterflies.

But the weirdest part? She rather liked the attention.

Attempting to distract her mind from such thoughts, she asked, “Vat did she visper to you before ve left?”

“Hmm? Oh, she just asked me to try to convince you. Y’know, to take up her offer.”

She whipped her head around. “And you agreed?”

He gave her a wry smile. “You’re the one who left the door open.”

“I vas trying to be diplomatic! You know, let her down softly?”

The smile broadened. “But she had you, didn’t she? For just a moment.”

Fleur sealed her lips and jerked her head forward. She raised her legs with each step now and kept her face held high. “I sought you agreed to drop sis.”

“No, I said that if you don’t like being pretty then I wouldn’t press you on the matter anymore.” He nudged her shoulder. “But you liked it, didn’t you?”

She paused, her thoughts shattered by the question. She examined herself and the dress she wore, then lifted a leg to study its stocking and shoe up close. Unable to resist, she glanced around and saw there were still ponies watching them. No, watching her. Before she knew it, that stupid smile had sneaked its way onto her lips again. Upon noticing it, she turned her face away from Fine and tried to turn it back into a proper frown. “V-vell, I didn’t… dislike it, I guess.”

He stepped a little closer and leaned down, but tilted his head away. He spoke playfully, “So... who’s a pretty pony?”

As the fire in her cheeks rekindled, she pushed him away and walked ahead. “Shut up.”

But deep down, she had one strangely giddying thought:

Fine actually thought she was pretty.

She might never stop smiling.