“You are not eating, Luna,” Celestia comments, noticing with disappointment that I haven’t so much as prodded the food that lays on my plate.

“I am not really hungry,” I lie, somehow managing to stop my stomach from performing any gurgling sounds. “I ate before I arrived… home.”

The spread before me is mouth watering, and I don’t even know how half of them are supposed to taste like. Plates of vegetables drenched in colorful sauces, soft balls of baked dough that shine with an unidentified glaze, and so many condiments and side dishes that all I can tell about some of them is that they are a type of cheese.

Celestia doesn’t share my qualms and she’s eating freely. I try not to wince when I see that she picks her salad with a different fork than she used up to this point. Was it the three or two tined one? Where am I supposed to rest it after? She uses a napkin laid to the side for this purpose, but there is none at my side. Am I supposed to place one there or use the same she does?

I hate it when this happens. Something always changes, there’s always a difference, and I’m stuck spending any few nights I hesitantly allow myself in my sister’s library instead of staying close to her as I was hoping, playing catch-up. Like the time she deposited this crown on me or this choke around my throat. I still have no idea when I’m supposed to be allowed to take them off so I keep them on all the time. I had to stay in Celestia’s room until she got too tired and decided to lie down to find out if removing them when going to sleep is acceptable.

Still, I have to keep up appearances. Celestia is a princess now. The Princess. According to her, we both are, but I don’t believe I’ve earned that. Scare a few ponies to shake them, search into their dreams if they seem suspicious to me, and then I let Celestia do whatever is supposed to be done after. I don’t spend enough time here among the luxuries to do more of administrative duties nor do I know where to even begin.

In the meanwhile, I have to miss what precious little sleep—or real meals—I’m supposed to get while here in order to make sure I don’t cause a… a faux pas or what it’s called. Another item on my list of things to look up in the middle of the night. I can’t shame Celestia like that, not while anypony is scrutinizing our every move. Even the guards and servants she employs, as if they don’t have anything better to do than watch us.

“Still, I remember how most dried rations taste, and you should really try to eat a little more,” Celestia joked. “You’re too thin by half.”

I look down at myself and almost bite my lips so I do not answer. Does she think that I’m stuck like this by choice? Look at her, look at how tall she is! Does she think that I didn’t want to be like her? To be prettier and taller than what I currently am? I’m a stunted little thing compared to her. But of course I am.

‘remember how most dried rations taste’, she says. How can you even claim that? You’ve been served and pampered for almost three hundred years while I barely was able to find enough to keep myself moving at times! No wonder I ended up like this, and you joke about it, you stupid, fat—

It’s not her fault. It’s not her fault. I chose this, she tried to stop me, I could stop anytime, and she wouldn’t blame me. She would understand, and be saddened over what I’ve been through, and then the questions would come, she would ask me what exactly happened to me, what I have been doing out there, interrogate me like I am a—

“Some of us like keeping a semblance of a figure, thank you,” I answer, lifting my chin, and my playful answer satisfies her, and she titters merrily.

“Still, I worry about you. You tell me so little as it is—”

“It’s the same old routine day after day. After the first couple of months nothing really changed. Sleep outside, walk or fly a lot, cast a few spells at what might crawl out, repeat. Even if something more exciting happens it basically ends the same.”

“—And it’s not just the danger you put yourself in, but I’m also worrying over your health and how alone you are. Luna, would you like to reconsider taking some guards with you?” Celestia pleads.

Guards? I gander around the room. These useless meat shields? Well, not entirely useless, they do serve a purpose, I suppose. That’s why I prefer levying civilians instead. It gives them something to do that’s not talking behind my back. They have about the same chance of survival, and a guard might be what saves lives in my stead. But to have them with me? What for? To slow me down, and then go to Celestia and spill all my secrets?

“I’m fine on my own, sister. We’ve had this discussion a hundred times, and I told you a hundred times, I am fine.”

Celestia put her fork down, her torso slowly bending in weariness. “I’m worried, Luna; you come back less and less. It’s been almost ten years I saw you last. Ten years, Luna! And you stay for a few days at most. I miss my little sister. And then there are these stories I hear—”

“Falsehoods and fabrications, sister. I am being rough at times, and my patience is little as it is when away from you, but there’s nothing more to them than that.” I sit straighter. “I’m certain that a lot of them are propagated by those who wish to gain some measure of power over you. They cannot attack you so they try to do so through me.”

“I know, I know, and you are right of course. Not that I’d ever believe this malice over you. Like that you eat colts and fillies and leave their bodies for the parents to find. They are despicable. These… politics are full of doublespeak, misdirection and roundabouts. I can barely keep up.”

“Maybe you should have some ponies to keep an eye on them and let you know of these paltry tricks before they can even bring them to bear,” I advise offhoofedly, though I have no belief that it would amount to anything.

“Maybe,” Celestia answers, and she ponders my suggestion for a few seconds before dismissing it and changing the subject once more. It was a foolish idea anyway. “Luna, if you don’t want—or need—any help, then why don’t you at least change the way you travel?”

“The way I travel?”

“Yes! Like the Thestral Clans. You’ve seen these wonderful wagons that serve as their homes, haven’t you?” Celestia grinned. “It surely wouldn’t be out of the question to use one of them, would it? And we could ask if any of the Thestrals could accompany you. To take care of the wagon while you’re away, of course. I’m sure they would gladly make one for you if we asked. They always say the best things about you.”

They do say good things for me. After all, I’m the only other one who lives worse than they do. A moving home like theirs… No. As great as a temptation it would be, I can’t. It would slow me down. I barely take anything with me as it is in order to speed my patrols. I cannot afford to go back to guilt.

As long as I do my absolute best, do everything it takes, the fault is not on me. It’s on them, on everypony else. I’m not going back to how it was before. Never.

“I will consider your suggestion, sister,” I lie. It makes her happy, and all I have to do is lie and tell her it didn’t suit my purposes the next time I return. I accidentally inhale through my nostrils, something I was desperately trying not to do, and the aroma of the food strikes me once more, waking my hunger.

“If you don’t mind I will head to my room now, Celestia,” I tell her, having enough of both this dinner that is out of my reach and her.

There’s a new addition to my room. A mirror on the wall, taller than I am. I light all the candles available and I stand in front of it. I look up, at the top of the mirror that is so far from the tip of my horn. It’s easy to guess who it had been made for. Celestia probably has a ton of these already, mostly gifts to ‘Her Majesty’, I wager. One of them must have finally trickled down to me.

I still look at the top, at how far from my reach it is. I shouldn’t have to look at it from this angle. No wonder everypony looks down on me, even Celestia. I’m supposed to be her equal and I am unable to even look her in the eye without craning my neck. All because I starved, and for what? To be mocked and disparaged at every opportunity, to face worse and worse as the years crawl by, doomed to do this forever?

Why am I even still alive? Why is Celestia? When are we supposed to die, when am I supposed to stop and rest?

I close my eyes and concentrate for a moment. I gaze back at the mirror. Yes, this is how I should be. As tall as her. No longer have anypony to look down at me. But she would always be the one they flock to, the one they rush to, because of her beauty. I’m so dull when compared against Celestia.

But, if my fur was darker... yes, just like that. No more of that dark blue that makes ponies’ eyes bypass me, but a black so dark that I would stand out even against the dead of night, unmarred by hidden scars and clean instead of drenched in sweat, dirt, and blood. My mark of a waning crescent moon now rests against royal purple, like the mark of a true princess. My wings grow larger and more stately, seemingly able to spread forever.

This crown… What need have I of one? I hate it so much, always needing to care for it and to not lose or damage it. It’s colored black, as if it is tarnished or trash. No, I would rather have a steel helm with a set of segmented metal strips that drape down the back and front of my neck, both coated in pure silver. My shoes shall be made the same. And this peytral strapped across my chest will be bigger and sturdier, to proclaim who I am as well as protect me in battle.

I think of my sister’s hair, how it looks like a glistering fog of green, pink and blue. Mine is always compared to hers in the manner of being almost as pretty as hers. No, mine shouldn’t be like that. It shouldn’t be like the night sky, it should be the night sky. It will be ethereal and almost translucent. My hair won’t be a window into the cosmos, but reality itself ripping apart to show off true beauty.

And last, my eyes and their color. Teal, pure teal, glowing with their own inborn light.

I pose and look at myself, at how I should be. The reflection itself seems to nod in satisfaction.

This is how you should be, it coos. This is who you should—

Somepony knocks on my door.

“Luna? Are you asleep yet?” Celestia whispers from behind the thick wood, barely audible.

The illusion shimmers off as I stop it at once, a pang of guilt and shame flashing across my rapidly beating heart. I don’t answer back immediately because I have to steady my shaking body. Stars only know how I managed not to scream.

“I’m- I’m still awake, Celestia. What is it?”

“Would you… Luna, would you mind if you slept with me in my room tonight?”

I move for the door, now feeling stunned for other reasons. “With you?”

“I haven’t been sleeping well lately, and… well, I’ve missed you. Will you? Please?”

I open the door at once. “Yes, of course I… What is this?”

Celestia looks at what I am pointing: a plate hovering in midair, glowing gold, filled with small sandwiches. “Hmm? Oh, I know you said you had eaten before, but it’s been some time since then and dinner, and I thought a small snack wouldn’t go amiss. I made them myself!” she announces proudly, delivering them under my muzzle.

I levitate one sandwich, and remove the top slice to check its contents. It’s everything I like, favorite cheese and all, and I can spot a few of the sandwiches sporting various jams, all of them sweet and to my taste. But, it’s how Celestia arranged the ingredients that amazes me.

They’re in the shape of a smiley face.

“You used to love them like that when you were small and we could get them,” she needlessly reminds me.

I haven’t forgotten. There were times when she would work for a farmer for days, performing more chores than a team of earth ponies could manage, all without rest while I was safely tucked away in their house, too young to help, and doing the lessons she assigned to me, practising numbers and letters.

She’d be dirty, tired, and barely have any time to rest until she had to be up again, and the first thing she would do when getting back into their house was ask permission to make my dinner. She always made them… made them like…

I take a bite, and it tastes so much better than that rich dinner could ever have. I can feel the little face’s smile, and it spreads to me. It must be especially infectious as it is now on Celestia’s lips.

“Is that a yes?” she asks.

I glance behind me. Celestia probably thinks I’m looking at my own bed, but it’s the mirror. I wish I had some more time to stay like this, to wish for what could have been…

But the mirror will still be here tomorrow.

I hug Celestia, and she embraces me back. For a moment I’m twelve again.

“Let’s go. Perhaps I could tell you one of these little stories you used to love as well.”

“Tiaaa. I’m not a filly anymore.”

“Alright, Luna. Would you like to tell me one then?”

“Well… Maybe. After I finish these sandwiches. Would you like one as well?”