“When you come from quite a large family,” Celestia said, a lantern held in her magical grip a few feet from her face, while leading Twilight Sparkle down an ornate marble staircase, “to say nothing of having hundreds of guards, servants, visiting diplomats and just plain old visitors around at any one time, it's important to set aside areas that everypony understands to be sacrosanct.”

        For a moment, there was nothing but the sound of their echoing hoofsteps in the stairwell. “Even when your home is as large as this?” asked Twilight Sparkle, mouth agape, as she wondered how many times over the Castle of Friendship could fit into this one. “It can't have been that difficult to find places where nopony could find you.”

        “You'd be surprised,” replied Celestia, a smile etched onto her face as she recalled the labyrinthine text that comprised her and Luna's rulebook for games of Hide and Seek. When you had a massive castle to play in, when you could teleport, it was important to establish what was and what wasn't allowed. And of course, how you gently twist the rules to your own advantage. They descended deeper. “Short of something that threatens the safety of Equestria, it is understood by all that they are not welcome in these most … intimate areas. These are rooms where Luna and I can be ourselves, where we can drop the royal façades for a moment. Rooms where we can truly rest.”

        Twilight was about to say something, but thought better of voicing the petulant notion that had just crossed her mind.

        “Speak.”

        “It's not-”

        “-Speak,” Celestia said, repeating the command more firmly. “If am to be myself, you must feel free to be who you are, too. This is not a judgement upon you, nor is it a test to be overcome.”

        With a sigh, Twilight said, “I just wish you'd told me before that this is how you felt. That you couldn't be yourself around me.”

        To her surprise, Celestia laughed at that. She paused just long enough for the younger alicorn to draw level, then she kissed her on the cheek. “Twilight, I am more myself around you than anypony in thousands of years. Apart from my dear sister, of course.”

        “And Luna has a wing similar to this on the other side of the castle?” Twilight asked, feeling her muzzle break out in a blush at the gesture. Almost a year later, and it was still weird to think of Princess Celestia, one of the two Rulers of Equestria, as her marefriend. As a filly, she had been a regular visitor to the royal palace; either to receive special instruction from Celestia herself, or simply to explore the expansive grounds as many students of the School for Gifted Unicorns were wont to do during their free time. Naively, she'd thought that she'd explored just about every possible nook and cranny of the castle.

        This staircase, however – hidden behind what she'd always assumed to be a solid piece of stone in the throne room – had come as a complete shock to her. Only Celestia's two most trusted lieutenants had been in the room at the time she'd cast a spell on the bulwark to remove it, indicating to her that it was not common knowledge amongst the guards that these catacombs even existed. Those two lieutenants would be responsible for coming and finding the two princesses should an Equestria-ending emergency occur.

        “Yes, she does,” Celestia eventually said, cocking her head to the right for a moment and listening. It wasn't that she was expecting to hear anything so far down, nor had she lost her way, but one didn't get to live this long without at least allowing for the possibility of somepony or something having infiltrated even this supposedly private sanctum. “She spent quite a bit of time down there following her return from the moon. Mostly, I imagine, catching up with the millennium of history that she'd missed out on.”

        “Mostly?”

        “Well, what would you want to do if you'd been imprisoned for a thousand years?” Celestia asked with a mischievous grin. “I know I'd certainly want to blow off as much steam as possible.”

        “Oh,” replied Twilight, then as the realisation set in, she suppressed a shudder. “Ugh, I wish you hadn't told me that.”

        Celestia stifled a giggle with her hoof; it still amazed her to think that, despite all of her power and knowledge, Twilight could be such an innocent. It was that very trait that had first attracted her to the younger alicorn. Twilight's bright nature had shone a light on some very dark times. Plus, she thought, her eyes roving over a lavender body made up of delicate curves, she's sexy as heck, too. It was one of life's fine ironies that somepony so smart, so beautiful, so talented, would struggle all their lives with such monumental self-esteem issues.

        “How often do you come down here?” asked Twilight as they reached the landing. She craned her neck to look back where they had come from, and the stairs seemed to go on forever, disappearing into a dark mire high above. “And have you considered getting an elevator?”

        “At least once a week for a few hours,” Celestia replied, pushing the lantern a little way down the corridor. Numerous doors branched off the central hallway, and no trace of light spilled out of any of them. Twilight couldn't help wondering what they contained, but she was sure that she would find out in time. “That can quickly double, or even triple, during conference season, though.” She looked at the young alicorn wryly. “I know what you're thinking: what an unbelievable amount of effort to go through just to get some peace and quiet. Why not just stick a barrier spell around your bedroom and have done with it?”

        “Well, yes,” Twilight said sheepishly.

        “The physical distance is just as important to me as the mental distance, I find,” Celestia said with a shrug. “Knowing that my problems are over twenty floors away gives me an enormous feeling of psychological security that I just wouldn't get if they were only on the other side of a locked door, if that makes sense?”

        “It does,” replied Twilight, idly wondering how much it would cost to install similar chambers in the Castle of Friendship. They probably wouldn't keep Pinkie Pie out, she knew that for certain. “And … did you say twenty floors?” The colour drained from her face at this revelation. It hadn't seemed that much when they were walking. Had Celestia used some passive form of the magic that she'd once used to reverse Sombra's staircase so that the journey seemed shorter? Or had she just been really, really, distracted thinking about what was to come?

        “Don't worry,” said Celestia, making her way down the corridor. “Now that you have the distance worked out from here to the throne room, we'll be able to teleport back there once we're done.”

        With her panic attack about a possible long climb averted, Twilight's attention was drawn back to the brick corridor that they found themselves I. Now that she was looking more closely, she could see the tell-tale rusting hinges, the shallow impressions in the stone floor, even a faint odour of hopelessness that time and cleaning fluids couldn't quite erase. “This used to be the dungeon, didn't it?”

        “Once upon a time,” said Celestia slowly, unwanted memories coming back to her. A scowl formed on her muzzle; it was a question she had been expecting, but that didn't mean that she couldn't be annoyed about having to answer it. Lanterns sprung to life as they walked by, bestowing upon the gloomy passage a welcoming orange glow. Celestia discarded the one she had been carrying all this time. “Fortunately, they have gone unused as such since the last great war, and hopefully it will remain that way. The thought of ever having to imprison somepony again ...” She shivered inwardly.

        “What about me?” Twilight asked with a light smile, looking to cheer things up a bit.

        “That's different,” Celestia said with a grateful smile; her sense of relief that, once again, Twilight was able shine a light in the darkness and maintain a sense of humour about things was palpable. They came to a halt at the threshold of a particular room. In the darkness, Twilight couldn't figure out what made it any different from all of the others they had passed. A pensive cast darkened Celestia's muzzle. “We're here. Twilight, you're still free to say no.”

        Maybe the experience would do nothing for her; for all that Celestia was looking forward to what was come, and as much as that enthusiasm had rubbed off on Twilight, it was entirely possible that she just wouldn't get anything out of it from a carnal standpoint. But she had to try, right? Being open-minded, casting cynicism and scepticism to the dark reaches of her mind, was what she was all about.

        For her part, Celestia could only watch and enjoy the play of emotions across Twilight's face; running the gamut from sceptical, to hesitant, to earnest was a real treat. Every feeling was etched so artfully across her muzzle, making her almost as easy to read as one of the books that she loved so much.

        Finally, Twilight put one hoof across the threshold. “I'm ready.”