Canterlot's dining hall was large, lavish, and stiflingly uninhabited as Reman and Glade stalked inside, making certain to stay unseen by anyone who did not work in the castle. While they were known entities on the grounds, the outside world, including Glade's parents, did not need to know where they were.

“I never figured you for an early bird, Reman.” A masculine voice came up behind them. They turned to see a white stallion with a blue mane and equally blue eyes. Shining Armor smiled at them, sincerely glad to see they were alright; he perhaps cared about Reman's well-being a tad less than he did Glade's. “However, there are more conventional methods of leaving your suite.”

“The window seemed like a good option, honestly,” Glade said, returning the smile. She looked around, but didn't see Cadence. The tiny detail didn't register much concern; Twilight was probably being awoken by her former foalsitter at that very moment. “We're trying to keep private for now.”

“The lovebirds finally came to roost?” Prince Armor laughed. He had never had a doubt about the two of them, not since they were so chummy the night before fighting Hircine. “Trying to avoid Major Tundra until you can explain?”

“Major?” Reman asked, looking at Glade. He was unfamiliar with the title, but guessed that Tundra was Glade's father. He also realized that was a rather odd naming scheme, but most ponies had strange names; strange by Imperial standards, at any rate.

“He's a retired guardspony,” She confessed. She hadn't told him this before, and was starting to have a slight bit of regret over it. Truthfully, it was something small, a minor detail, but she realized how important the Legion was for the Imperials, especially for House Tullius. “I'm sure he'll be thrilled once he finds out about your heritage.”

“Something I'm missing?” Shining Armor asked, somewhat eager to shed some light on the mystery that was Reman the Imperial. Glade grinned and jabbed a hoof into the man's thigh, more than happy to give away information he might not be willing to share otherwise.

“Reman's family has control of the Imperial Legion, his Empire's army, which means he's got leadership in his blood.” Glade had no idea how large or small the Legion was in relation to the Solar and Lunar Guards, which numbered just above two-thousand each, though they paled in comparison with the Royal Guard, what most ponies thought of as the stallions often seen around towns and settlements; apparently, seeing a bunch of ponies in armor was cause enough to identify them as one or another. Solar and Lunar Guards were more heavily armored than their Royal Guard counterparts, meaking them easily identified. “Half of the Legionnaires I saw couldn't fight a wild dog, but there were about one hundred training at any given time.”

“We're having to recruit from the locals to suppress a rebellion; most of them are farmers who've never swung more than an ax at wolves.” Reman was glad the conversation was heading in a direction he was comfortable with, especially with his nerves on-edge as they were. “A professional Legionnaire is worth a dozen of the recruits we've been getting.” He was accounting for all races of Tamriel, and keeping specialties in mind. An Altmer medic was, on average, a better healer than a Nord alchemist, but the average Nord was better with a two-handed ax or sword than most Imperials of similar strength. “But it is better to recruit locally than bring in strangers the locals do not know; holding ground is easier if the citizenry likes you.”

“Officer training school?” Shining Armor asked, his curiosity as aroused as it had ever been. Reman, as unorthodox as he was, never struck the stallion as a soldier; he was certainly a mercenary, one with morals and ethics, but certainly not a soldier of any standing. “A lot of ponies think you can just charge in and take what needs taken and not pay any mind to the locals.”

“Tactica Imperium Chapter Two, page five, paragraph two,” He rattled off with a smile. “Required reading in my household. But, yes, our officers are taught how to win the hearts of anyone we happen to occupy, with due respect to local customs.”

“A little goodwill goes a lot farther than most ponies think.”

“That reminds me of a story my father used to tell every chance he got when I was younger.”

@#@#@#@#@#@#

Renoir Belmont went right to work on Mandrake's corpse, not even bothering to prep his suite for any sort of mess. Dissection was one of the first things he was taught growing up, a principal art amongst Restoration mages and necromancers alike. With it, he could identify exactly how the Equestrian vampires functioned, how they spread their curse, how they lived. There were a number of structures similar to what he would expect to find within a Tamriellic vampire, but for every similarity, there was a serious deviation. Their fangs, superior and inferior, were hollow, and led to two set of venom sacs. The venom, as far he could tell with the equipment he had, was a combination paralytic and anticoagulant meant to hold the prey still while it fed.

From an objective standpoint, it was fascinating; part of him wanted to use the vampiress in a live experiment, but the rational part of his mind understood she would be there for something very different. Equestrian vampires had essentially won the evolutionary arms race in regards to their weaponry, though their weaknesses were rather glaring.

“That's rather odd,” Renoir noted, jotting down a description in his journal. He was looking over the muscles in Mandrake's wings and noticed something rather strange. Rather than the flight muscles seen in most bird and flying reptiles, his were coiled like a serpent ready to strike. He could fly, yes, but he generated almost insane takeoff thrust; Renoir casually noted the force could theoretically take a man's head off with ease. “High cluster of nerve endings present in wings, possibly to detect changes in the air while in flight.”

Moving onto the chest, Renoir made a mental note to ask Reman if a pegasus's wings were an erogenous zone as well, though, as he readied his scalpel, he realized the question was rather inappropriate. Dragging the blade along the incision markings, he pushed the thought from his mind, and went right back to work. He pinned the skin and superficial muscles, likewise capable of powerful movement, to the table, and cocked his head in surprise that was rapidly turning into a mixture of fear and pure astonishment.

The ribs were fused into something resembling a clam's shell, with a small sliver of sternum between the two larger bones. Getting a bladed weapon through the armor would require impressive strength, especially if it was longer than the average shiv. Thumping his fingers against it, he sighed and resigned himself to using a bonesaw he borrowed from the castle's morgue. The shell was meant to prtoect the most vulnerable organ in a vampire's body, and Renoir Belmont was going to cut through it if it killed him.

A knock on his door made him realize it just might if Celestia didn't take too kindly to him using one of her guest suites as a morgue. The vampire swallowed a lump in his throat and cover the corpse with a sheet. He could stop for a moment to wash his hands; the delay would be suspicious. As he reached for the doorknob, he noticed how much blood he had on his arms. Dark stains extended a little past his elbows, making his previous deeds completely obvious.

“Renoir, it's time for breakfast,” Luna quietly called. He knew very well both of them were nocturnal, but he was only awake because he had a bit of work to do. He reached to pull the door open, keeping most of his body behind cover. “Oh, good, you're awake.”

“Yes, but I was about to lie down for the day.” Renoir did his best to smile, and silently willed the alicorn's eyes away from the table near his suite's center. He was at his weakest, having fed a few hours before, so his Vampire's Seduction was unavailable, not that he was sure it would have an effect on her. Much to his surprise, she stepped inside, flanked by a pair of Lunar Guards.

“Is that blood?” she asked, sniffing the air a few times. For all the time he'd spent in her company, Renoir had forgotten Luna and her kind were herbivores by nature, and therefore had senses honed to watch for predators; blood and rotting meat would stick out to them like a klaxon ringing in the night. It was by misfortune that he was hiding both of them at the moment. “It is, isn't it?”

Luna walked directly to the table, pulling away the stained sheet with her magic. The two guards bristled at the sight of the cut cadaver, readying themselves to protect the princess should the need arise. She looked over the body, pulling back bits of meat as checking Renoir's notes on them. “You've certainly documented vampire anatomy well enough.”

“I do my best,” he replied, trying to keep a straight face. In truth, his research was full of holes; one could only accomplish so much with a cadaver. He'd need black magic to understand more if he couldn't find a willing participant. “I was going to speak with Reman about this later today; he can extract more information than I can right now.”

“He's busy at the moment, but I'm sure he could make the time after breakfast if you asked.” Luna's plan was just a complicated way of getting the vampire out of the suite for a while longer. It would do well to keep him in her sister's good graces, especially if she was going to convince her to let the vampire ponies live.

@#@#@#@#@#@#

“Sweet Celestia, I've made a monster,” Glade sighed and slumped in her seat. Cadence and Twilight had arrived, but had remained silent and allowed the two males to discuss their respective lots in life. Apparently, Fluttershy had stayed in Canterlot, and was sleeping off a hangover, so she was unable to join them.

“I'm just glad they're getting along,” Twilight replied, smiling as she looked at her brother and the Imperial. For two stallions who were ready to kill each other when they first met, they were getting along famously now. Cadence admitted to bribing her husband, but Twilight wasn't about to ask with what. “You might not know, but Glade, when will Reman be able to teach me again?”

Glade thought for a moment and shrugged; what her forebear had planned was not clear to her. As far as she knew, avoiding her parents was the only thing on the day's agenda. “You'd have to ask him, though I'm sure Princess Celestia shouldn't occupy his every waking hour.”

“Perhaps she was referring to other things,” Cadence intoned with a giggle. She kept her voice low, though it was unnecessary as Reman and Shining Armor were unlikely to hear her for their own conversation. She gave a cheeky smile and looked at the lycan mare, confident in her knowledge of the heart's secrets. In response, Glade only looked at her as though she'd grown a second horn. “Oh come now, did you really think you could hide something like this from the Princess of Love?”

“Cadence, they really don't want anypony to know just yet.” Twilight put a hoof on her sister-in-law's shoulder, and the princess was suddenly aware of a stigma she might not have seen before then. Interspecies couples faced some prejudice, the amount often hinging on the odd partner's species. Griffins faced the least amount, but diamond dogs were almost a taboo, regardless of how civilized they were. Humans were an unknown element, and it was unlikely they would be received with open hearts if they decided to go native, as many griffin immigrants called it.

“Right, yes.” The pink princess was truly sorry to bring it up. “I can understand how an intimate relationship with an ambassador might be seen as inappropriate, especially a non-equine.”

“Oh, right that,” Glade said, drawing out the final word to stall for time. She was drawing a blank on how to steer the conversation from the direction it was headed. She needed someone capable of manipulation and her grasp on the subject was rather lacking; the only one she knew well enough to help her out was busy talking to Shining Armor.

“There you are, Glade!” Bitter Springs called form across the dining hall. He looked tired and was still in his armor, but there was a slight smile on his face. A box was suspended in his magic, bearing a tag with Glade's name on it. “I've been looking all over for you.”

“I heard,” she said, smiling back in earnest. She was glad for her friend's arrival; it kept the heat of her back and gave her a chance to talk to Springs while he was off duty. She waved a hoof to the seat next to her, beckoning him to sit. “We used the window to keep a low profile.”

Bitter Springs looked at her like she was crazy as he took a seat, unused to being one of the ponies at the grand table. He was more accustomed to standing near the wall, but he took the chance as it presented itself. He placed the present in front of Glade and looked at her expectantly. “Low profile or not, I've been running since midnight. I'm going to fall asleep as soon as you open this present, so please hurry.”