It had been a long day. Or, rather, most a night and part of a day. Rarity found herself in substantial pain, the result of having been standing, flexing, bending, and preparing for the better part of twelve hours straight. She had gotten a great deal done, of course, and only because of this sense of progression had she decided to take a break. So, taking a chance to relax, she allowed herself to sink deeper into the hot water of the luxurious bath and waited for the heat to at least alleviate some of her pain.

There had been a time in her life when she could have sewed and planned for days straight, motivated entirely by the force of the creative expression and her passion for dressmaking. Those days had begun to pass, though, and Rarity increasingly found herself getting more tired more quickly.

All things considered, though, she had made substantial progress. Feathery Snipper had delivered Couleur De’Lis’s dress, and although it was quite old and its condition at best fair, it was still an astonishing garment. Rarity was unsure of who exactly the designer had been- -the information had been lost to time- -but whoever it had been had possessed skill far greater than almost all of the chief dressmakers active in the last two decades.

The old dress itself was, of course, far too old fashioned to be useful in and of itself for a modern wedding. In accordance with Couleur’s apparent hobby of wearing anachronistic clothing, it looked like something from two centuries prior. As an inspiration, though, it provided insight that Rarity would never even have considered in her wildest dreams. Fleur had agreed heartily, and the pair of them had settled on a tentative design and color scheme.

That had been about the time that Rarity had been informed that Sweetie Belle had become quite ill. She had initially not come back from her attempt to fetch Feathery Snipper, although the latter had found her much later lying unconscious in a distant and empty hallway. This nearly sent Rarity into a panic, but she was assured by both Feathery and Fleur that this was not uncommon. It had something to do with a reaction to the castle’s water supply, which Rarity understood. She too was feeling somewhat ill. Although she felt quite sorry for her sister, the assurance that Sweetie Belle was lying at rest in her bed was enough to put her mind at ease and allow her to continue to work.

Her slight sickness and worry about Sweetie Belle did impact her performance, but it was largely offset by assistance from Silver Sight. As he had suggested, he was actually rather competent at simple sewing tasks. He worked with the slow, careful pace that most earth-ponies had to- -on account of their lack of horns, something that often made sewing unbelievably frustrating for them- -but he was good at following orders and had proven himself able to prepare components as Rarity had specified by cutting cloth and following the patterns she provided. He also seemed quite happy to assist, and, in all honesty, Rarity was glad to have him. He was cheerful, effective, and had a flank that she did not mind looking at when the desire struck her. Unfortunately, he had departed soon after night fell. He had not explained why, but Rarity had simply accepted that he had to attend to his duties as a butler.

A sound came from behind Rarity. She opened her eyes, wondering if she had been asleep. Slowly, the turned. Through the steam she saw Fleur standing at the edge of the swimming-pool like bath.

“Do you mind if I join you?” she asked.

“What? No, of course not!” said Rarity. She looked out at the bath. “It is certainly big enough, isn’t it?”

Fleur laughed. “Indeed it is.” She walked over the tile floor to the stairs that led to the water and gracefully descended. Rarity knew that it was inappropriate, but she could not take her eyes off Fleur as she descended water and sweet-smelling foam. Then, to her surprise, when Fleur reached the appropriate depth she took a deep breath and submerged herself completely into the water. For a moment, she moved quickly below the surface, crossing a short distance before emerging again, flipping her hair back and sending a shower of sparkling droplets into the air around her. Even soaked, her mane still looked perfect, albeit in a different way. Rarity was too frightened to get her own mane wet for fear of the amount of time it would take to style it back to normal- -she had therefore wrapped it in a towel- -but Fleur seemed not to care. Knowing her, of course, her hair was likely so perfect that it simply needed to dry before automatically resuming is perfect silky-soft texture and fashionable shape.

Fleur drifted through the water, producing a small wake as she approached Rarity and sat down beside her.

“I saw your sister on the way here,” she said, leaning back and sighing. “She was with Muguet. The two seemed out of breath and a bit nervous. I do wonder what they were up to.”

“With Sweetie Belle, it is better not to ask. If I had a bit for every time her and her friends ended up doing something uncouth, I’d be able to open my own department store in Cloudsdale’s downtown district.”

“A troublemaker, then?”

Rarity smiled. “But that’s why I love her. Among other reasons, of course.”

“I see.”

The two of them fell silent. Rarity found herself staring out at the slowly drifting rafts of bubbles, still propelled by the remnants of Fleur’s wake.

“Rarity?” said Fleur after a minute or two. “What is wrong?”

“Wrong?” Rarity looked up. “Oh, darling, nothing is wrong.”

Fleur raised one eyebrow. “Nothing wrong, you say? I think not. I know that look. It is said that the heart of a mare can truly only be understood by another mare, and I think I would like to know, if you are willing to speak of it. What is wrong, Rarity?”

“Like I said, nothing.” Rarity stared out for a moment, and then sighed. “I…was just thinking.”

“About what, exactly?”

“About Sweetie Belle. And about myself.” She paused. “You know, there was a time when I was a lot like her.”

“Really?” Fleur seemed surprised. “You two seem so…different.”

“Well, we are. Now at least. A pony changes over time. Like that wine we’re both so fond of. We start out sweet, like juice, mature through an awkward and unpleasant stage, and finally mature to perfection…and then spoil into vinegar.”

“That last part is a bit dark,” noted Fleur. “But I suppose it fits the metaphor well.”

“It’s just…where did all the time go? I was fifteen when she was born. Already starting my business out of my parent’s garage. And now look at her. She’s almost as old as I was then. She has a cutie mark now, and she’s staring her own path…and how old does that make me?”

“Ah,” said Fleur. “Approaching thirty, I suppose?”

Rarity frowned at Fleur. “Trust me, Fleur. You’ll get there too, eventually. It’s not a fun place to be. It’s like…” Rarity paused, and looked up at the ornate ceiling. “I was just a filly, and then successful and young. I had all the time in the world. But where did it all go? I didn’t feel it pass! I feel like I just bout Carousel Boutique a few months ago…but that was nearly ten years now…”

“And it has done quite well,” said Fleur. She sat back, and thought for a moment. “Unless you are concerned that by focusing on your career, you missed out on a great many things that you might otherwise have directed your attention to? No doubt my wedding is making this even more poignant. I do apologize, Rarity. I did not realize.”

Rarity gasped, ashamed. “Oh, no! That isn’t what I meant!” She groaned. “Oh, look what I’ve done! This is supposed to be a happy time for you, and here I am complaining!”

“I do not mind,” said Fleur, holding up a dripping hoof. “I actually appreciate the conversation. It has been so long since I have been able to take a bath here and not be…alone.” Her expression fell. “I’ve been alone for a great deal of my life, Rarity. It is good not to be for once. Especially if I can do anything to help.”

“Just listening is help enough,” said Rarity.

“Well, that is certainly something I know how to do. And to look fabulous while doing it.” She paused. “I did always wonder why you never got married yourself, though. I always assumed that it was because of your popularity in our social circle. That you were in such high demand, you preferred to take stallions as they came and keep your options open.”

Rarity laughed. “It couldn’t be further from the truth, Fleur! I’m a bit ashamed to admit it…but I’ve never even had a steady coltfriend.”

Rarity’s eyes widened. “Really? No!”

“Well, in all honesty, it is rather difficult to do in Ponyville. There are very few eligible stallions. And I am a bit…picky.”

“Of course,” said Fleur, nodding. “As is a mare’s prerogative, no? Especially a white unicorn mare, as we are.”

“I just…I figured I could always put it off. But now…I’m starting to get old.” Rarity pushed back her hair with her magic, revealing the several gray strands beneath. “Look at me,” she said, smiling even as she was on the verge of tears. “I’m going to be an old maid…what stallion is going to want me when I’m old and ugly?”

Before she could do anything, Fleur suddenly leaned forward and wrapped Rarity in a hug. Rarity was at first confused, trying to decide if trying to resist would be impolite. She never did end up trying to pull away, though, buecause she realized just how pleasant Fleur’s embrace was. Fleur’s coat, even when wet, was perfectly soft, and her body was surprisingly toned. It almost felt as though Rarity found herself in the grasp of a stallion, except that Fleur smelled sweeter and there was no sense of awkwardness.

Rarity in fact felt her heart flutter, and she felt a sensation that she had never really felt before. Part of her considered it wrong, feeling that way while a mare was embracing her, but she still found herself hugging back.

“Don’t ever call yourself ugly,” said Fleur. “You are not. You are like us. More beautiful than any other pony in all of Equestria. Please…you were not wrong. You made good choices. Everything is going to be alright.”

“Fleur…”

Fleur hugged her tighter for just a moment, and Rarity felt as though she was going to cry. Then Fleur gently released her and stood up from the water. “Now,” she said, reaching down to help Rarity up. “Some breakfast, perhaps?”

Elsewhere in the castle, Sweetie Belle was sitting across a worn wooden table from Muguet. Muguet had gotten herself some more fruit, but had not bothered to make more pastries. She was hardly eating, though, and Sweetie Belle was not eating at all. The two of them were just sitting in silence, both wondering what exactly they had just seen and why it had been so unduly frightening.

“I’m sorry,” said Sweetie Belle at last.

“For what?” said Muguet, not looking up at her.

“For making you come out there. To look for me.”

“Oh no. That is not something you should apologize for. That is my duty. Just please do not do it again. If you had gotten hurt…” Muguet looked up at Sweetie Belle, her expression serious. Then, suddenly, her eyes flitted to above Sweetie Belle and her expression turned to one of surprise and fear.

Sweetie Belle was about to ask her what was wrong, but as she opened her mouth she was silenced by a massive head of ornamental kale being slammed violently into the table in front of her.

“Ack!” she cried, jumping back. It was just so profoundly strange. The head was immense, especially for this time of year, and the leaves were a combination of violet and the darkest purple she had ever seen. “What the hay is this?!”

“Eat it,” demanded a voice behind Sweetie Belle. A female voice that did not belong to Rarity, or to Fleur.

“What?” she said, turning her head, only to have her entire chair turned to face an extremely angry looking Pegasus. “Feathery- -”

“I said EAT. IT.” She pointed to the vegetable. “Because THAT is what you’re going to have for lunch. Or breakfast, whatever.”

“I don’t understand- -”

Snipper leaned close to her, her dark eyes glaring into Sweetie Belle’s. “Do I look like an idiot to you?” she asked.

“Um…no?”

“Then tell me, tiny unicorn. Why did I take time out of my extremely busy day to come talk to you? Hmm?”

“I don’t- -I don’t know- -”

Feathery Snipper slammed her hoof on the table, causing Muguet to squeak and the kale to jump.

“So you lied, then? Twice now!” She leaned in closer. “In case no one made it clear: DON’T go to the Old Castle!”

“I didn’t! I was in bed and- -”

Snipper raised a hoof, silencing her. “DON’T interrupt me, child,” she said through clenched teeth. “You went there. I saw your hoofprints. And HERS.” She glared even more harshly at Muguet before turning back to Sweetie Belle. “You unicorns,” she said, almost under her breath. “Inbred to mental retardation, perhaps?”

“Hey! That’s not fare- -”

“It’s not a playground! Half that structure is unstable, or rotted, and I have more than once needed to pull skeletons out who seemed to think it was a good idea to spend the last two centuries hiding in a secret passage, or at the bottom of a hidden shaft! Now, I don’t care if you die. That’s what idiots deserve. But I really, REALLY don’t want to spend time plumbing the depths for what’s left of you!”

“I got lost!” admitted Sweetie Belle. “Alright?! Is that what you want to hear?!”

“NO! I want you to STAY OUT!” She paused for a moment. “And further. Do NOT touch my things. You’re probably arrogant enough to think it looks like trash. It is not. Many of those things are important. Priceless, even. And some are not meant for you to see.”

“Okay,” said Sweetie Belle, feeling her tone growing strangely aggressive. “Fine! I won’t go there again! Are you happy?”

Snipper leaned in so closely that Sweetie Belle could smell her breath. It smelled strongly of kale. “Good,” she said, tapping the tip of Sweetie Belle’s horn with her hoof. “Because do it again, and I will snap off your organ. Understand?”

She suddenly shot forward, taking Sweetie Belle in what was almost a hug. She then whispered directly into Sweetie Belle’s ear. “Don’t eat anything she gives you!”

Feathery Snipper then pushed Sweetie Belle’s chair back and stomped off, pausing only to take the fruit that Muguet was eating and take a bite of it herself. She then lurched forward, drawing her head suddenly toward Muguet. Muguet squealed in surprise and fell out of her chair.

“Bat-winged harlot,” said Snipper, walking away and toward the nearest door that led back outside. As she did, Sweetie Belle got the first good look at Feathery Snipper’s cutie mark that she had managed to aquire since arriving. It was a violet and yellow flower, one that Sweetie Belle quickly recognized as a nightshade bloom.

Muguet eventually lifted herself back onto her chair, and looked pitifully down at her now empty plate.

“You can’t let her talk to you like that!” cried Sweetie Belle.

“I can, and I do,” said Muguet, seemingly trying to hold back tears. Sweetie Belle was not exactly sure why she was crying over lost fruit, but whatever the reason was, it made her angry.

“Why? You work just as hard as she does! And you’re not a plothole about it!”

Muguet gasped and blushed, surprised by Sweetie Belle’s Scootalooesque language. “Sweetie Belle!”

“I’m darn angry!” cried Sweetie Belle, standing up. “You know what? She got the drop on me there, but now I’m going to go back and give her a piece of my mind! She can’t say things like that!”

“Or threaten to remove your, ahem, ‘organ’?”

“That too!”

Muguet held out her hoof and stopped Sweetie Belle. She turned on her chair and slid off. “Don’t,” she said, now sounding quite serious. “She is like that. She seems to enjoy making my life…difficult. But what she said to you was what she thought you needed you to hear. Until that section is renovated, it is not safe for anypony save for her and for Lady De’Lis herself.”

“And you just take the abuse like that?”

“She has her reasons,” she said, looking away from Sweetie Belle. “We ALL have our reasons. Myself, Silver, her. Each is the sum of her or his past.”

Sweetie Belle’s anger cooled, but only slightly. “I know it’s wrong that white ponies get treated like they do. But even that doesn’t give her an excuse to treat you badly!”

Muguet shook her head. “No,” she said. “She did not experience it as we did. Did you not hear her accent? He is foreign. From the East.”

“So?”

“The East is…a harsher place. Not so civilized. Not like here, or your Canterlot. There is a great deal of war there.”

“So, she may have had to do things to survive. It’s not something that you can understand. But I do. And I accept her treatment because of it.”

Sweetie Belle opened her mouth to protest, but she found that Muguet was actually right. Sweetie Belle had grown up relatively privileged. Not Diamond Tiara privileged- -not even Silver Spoon privileged- -but she had never had to experience war, poverty, discrimination or violence. She really did not understand. In addition, Muguet’s display of empathy left her feeling like the far lesser pony in the situation.

Muguet, though, just smiled. “See? It’s okay! Because of the Baroness, our past is behind us! Even hers.” She turned to the table. “Would you like me to prepare you the…um…”

“Kale. It’s a kale. And no. I don’t want to eat anything she gives me.”

“Thank goodness,” said Muguet. “As I have no idea how to prepare it. That, and I despise the smell. Is it even food?”

“No,” laughed Sweetie Belle. “It’s an ornamental. But you try telling that to my sister. She loves those diet things. She probably eats as much kale as she eats cake. And that is a LOT of kale.”

“Does it remain healthy if it is paired with confection?”

“No, of course not.”

Sweetie Belle laughed, and Muguet joined in, even if she did not understand the joke. The two of them started walking toward the opposite door from the one that Snipper had exited, not sure where they were going but knowing that it was best if they went together.

Before they reached it, though, Sweetie Belle almost ran into her sister.

“Sweetie Belle!” cried Rarity. “There you are! I’ve been looking all over for you!”

“I’ve been right here. With Muguet.”

Rarity looked at the thestral. “You look very beautiful today, Lady Rarity,” said Muguet, bowing.

“Oh, why, thank you,” said Rarity, unable to resist allowing her mood to be enhanced by the application of flattery even if there was the tiniest pang of jealousy. Muguet the maid was surprisingly beautiful herself despite her teenage lankiness, and all without a single drop of makeup. Rarity had taken at least an hour of preparation to make herself presentable, but Muguet looked youthful and pleasant without even trying.

“As I suspected,” said Fleur, entering behind Rarity.

“Baroness!” said Muguet, bowing but also turning toward a wall clock to check the time. “I had not realized that you were awake so early! I- -I was not there in my role as attendant, I- -”

“Do not worry,” said Fleur, brushing off Muguet’s agitation with a smile. “I do certainly appreciate your dedication, but I am more than capable of taking care of myself. In fact, you seem to have perceived my orders even before I gave them.”

“My Lady?”

“Feathery Snipper has informed me that our Sweetie Belle has developed a terrible reaction to our water supply. And to you, Sweetie Belle, I offer my sincerest regret. Not just because you were sickened so and unable to fully enjoy the beuty of this place, but because last night you spent at least three hours lying on the cold tile unconscious. I am truly at fault for this, and I take full responsibility.”

“Lady De’Lis…”

“It happens,” said Sweetie Belle. “There’s nothing you could have done about it. And I’m fine now. A little bruised, though.”

“More like a lot bruised,” said Rarity, her concern growing as she began to see the damage to Sweetie Belle’s complexion. “Dear Celestia, you look like a banana!”

“But you should have not been left unattended,” said Fleur. “Which is why I am assigning Muguet to you as your personal attendant.” She turned to Muguet. “Muguet, please show Sweetie Belle the same dedication and care you have shown me. Make sure she is safe, and has everything she needs.”

“But my duties! The dusting, and the towels- -”

“Can fall to the wayside, a bit, I think,” said Fleur. “For now, at least. I have put in an order for more servants, and they will arrive in time to set up the wedding. Until then, Feathery Snipper will be assigned some of your tasks. Right now, your top priority is keeping Sweetie Belle safe.”

“I will not fail you, Lady Baroness,” said Muguet, bowing deeply. “I shall treat her as if she were your own daughter.”

This statement seemed to please Fleur greatly, and she nodded, accepting Muguet’s promise.

“Now,” said Fleur. “Rarity and I do have some planning to do.”

“Do I have to be the dummy again?” moaned Sweetie Belle.

“Normally, yes,” said Rarity. “You are an excellent dummy. Quite pliable. But I know you’re sick, so why don’t you take the day off? Especially with those bruises. I can hardly match your color when you look like Rainbow Dash after a…well…like Rainbow Dash normally looks. She simply isn’t careful.”

“Yeah,” said Sweetie Belle. In fact, she found herself wondering more and more about that. She remembered that she had fallen, but there was no way that it could have injured her that badly. There was no reason why she should have been bruised so badly.

Rarity and Fleur started to leave, but then Sweetie Belle remembered something. “Wait!” she said. “Fleur!”

“It’s ‘Miss De’Lis’,” reminded Rarity.

“No, no, Fleur is fine. I like my name,” said Fleur. “What is it, Sweetie Belle?”

“What was up with you last night?”

Fleur looked confused. “Last night? I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

“Last night. I woke up hearing…” Sweetie Belle paused, then shook her head. “I saw you. In the halls. You just sort of…stared at me.”

Muguet and Rarity looked at Sweetie Belle, clearly confused and a bit shocked, but Fleur looked concerned.

“Sweetie Belle, that is not possible,” she said. “I was with Rarity all night, and I went to bed immediately after. I don’t know who you could have seen, but it was not me.”

7�}i