“Crying, huh?” one of the ponies in the tavern said, his face shrouded by a mug of Dammerale. “That don’t sound like the Rose Terror to me.”

“Saw it with my own two eyes,” said one of Roseate’s personal goons. It wasn’t Rosejoy, and she hadn’t felt the need to learn the rest of their names. “Just looking across the river, bawling like she’d lost her favorite stuffed animal.” He chuckled and patted the counter. “She’s not so tough as she makes herself out to be.”

You’re right and you’re wrong, my dear, Rosewater thought as she slipped a further hint of magic into the aromatic wine the stallion was sipping, the effect subtle enough that the play of her magic along the glass seemed little more than a refraction of light through the red liquid, enhancing the intoxicating aroma and flavor.

“I wouldn’t say that too loudly, Plum,” the bartender, Rosy Glass said softly as she tugged at the bottle in front of Plum Rose. “I think you’ve had enough.”

“Back off Glass. I’ll say when I’ve had enough,” he said, ignorant of the shadowy pony sipping her glass of watered down wine in the corner, smiling as she touched his emotions through the fumes rising near invisibly from his glass, and urged him on. “Once we’ve won this little war, we’ll toss ‘er out on her backside.”

Oho? Do go on. Glass, at least, didn’t look her way. The dear had enough discretion not to look. But she’d always been a canny pony, and a stellar partner in bed. Six years of absence hadn’t lessened the affection Rosewater held for her, nor, apparently, what Glass had clung to.

The Rosetide amulet nestled under her sailor’s tie, which told her ship’s name, one recently returned to port. Whether or not it’d crossed paths with the ship that Rosetide had supposedly departed on didn’t matter in the short term, and the long-term ramifications of using him as a disguise were outweighed by the need to get the lay of Merrie.

Not that Rosetide had fooled Glass in the least. Either Silver Drop had spread the word to her closest friends or she simply recognized Rosewater’s voice no matter how she tried to disguise it.

Glass had certainly heard her voice in enough variations over the years they’d known each other to have a chance at it.

Plum set his glass back down and began filling another, far more than was considered couth, but enough to leverage a further seeding of his animosity towards Rosewater.

“Jus’ you wait,” he slurred. “Gotta…” He leaned forward and whispered into his glass, then tossed back half of it in a few swallows. “Roseate’s…” He frowned and shook his head, brows knitting as he frowned. “Nah. Shouldn’t.” He slammed back the last half of the glass and set it down.

Rosewater frowned, shaking her head. He was far too aware of his own state for her taste. The ponies Roseate called her personal guard were some of the more skilled scent mages and otherwise skilled or talented earth ponies and pegas, but these ponies were supposed to be the hedonists of the lot. Addicted to the pleasures and comforts that Roseate gave them for their loyalty.

He shouldn’t have been aware of her manipulations.

And maybe he isn’t. She tossed back her own watered wine and grimaced, then waved Glass over for a refill.

“You owe me a night, Tide,” Rose Glass growled as she poured undiluted wine into the glass. “And five bits.”

“Ouch,” Rosewater said in Rosetide’s lower voice, flinching. “Why so pricey?”

“Because you owe me,” Glass said, stumping away as soon as Rosewater laid the bits out without further complaint. “Because I like you, Tide. Why’d you go quiet?”

“Not now, Glass,” Rosewater whispered in a husky voice. “I can’t.”

“Obviously not now. Think about it.” Glass stumped away and snatched the bottle from Plum before he could object further. “Tavern closes in an hour. Can’t have you passed out.”

“Ornery,” Plum muttered, pulling out a spill of bits and tossing them over the counter. “Fine. See if I come back here.”

Rosewater caught the coins as soon as they disappeared out of his sight and stacked them neatly in two piles for Rose Glass to pick up more easily. She frowned and pulled up a globule of wine, atomizing it and filling the vapors with a sleeping charm that she sent after him as soon as he stepped outside.

Plum Rose made it another five steps past the door before he swayed, wobbled, and slid to the ground to snore loudly on the cobbled road.

“Somepony get that…” Glass waved a hoof at the heap of a stallion outside. “That back to the palace.”

Rose Petal stepped past the snoring guard, chuckling, and flicked a tail at the lump. “Seed, Sweet Grapes, take him back. I’ve still got business with Glass, and I’d rather not have trash obstructing the lovely view.”

“Of course, lovely. Enjoy business,” Rose Seed said, flicking his tail against Grape’s flank. “Come on, young buck. Let’s find an embarrassing place for him to find his night’s rest. Maybe upside down in the petunias.”

Rosewater lifted her nose and a brow. Merrie’s premier vintner rarely did business directly with tavernkeeps. Petal wasn’t using any enticements, but she still had the floral scent of Seed’s greenhouse about her, and a fairly recent fragrance of passionate mare and stallion. Two stallions.

“Petal,” Glass said, laughing as she came around the bar, half prancing. “Hey, I wasn’t expecting you this late.”

“Mmmhmm,” Petal hummed into a mutual embrace and cheek kiss. “If not now, then when? I’ll not disrupt your business to get what I really want, dear heart.” She backed away briefly and surveyed the rest of the crowd, eyes passing over Rosewater without pausing. “I see you’ve still got enough to keep you busy, so I’ll be brief.”

“Feh. They can care for themselves for a bit.” Glass pushed out a chair and sat in one, just a few tables away from Rosewater. “Let’s have a seat and share a glass, hmm?”

“Of course.” Petal took the offered chair, sniffed delicately, and glanced at Rosewater. “That’s a fine smelling stallion.”

“Heh.” Glass snorted and rolled her eyes at Rosewater. “Rosetide’s not too shabby. Comes in now and again when his ship’s in port. I think I might like to take him home one day.”

“Mmm. Kind, hard worker… my dear Rosetide, why are you alone?”

Rosewater shot a hard look at Glass, who only smiled wider, as if to say You owed me. “Er. Ma’am. Miss Petal. I’m a ship pony.”

“Ah, that high, sweet alto,” Petal said with a purr in her light soprano. “Why, he would be perfect for a night-time symphony.”

“S-some other time, ma’am,” Rosewater said, ducking her head and shifting a glare to Glass. “H-how much do I owe you, Miss Glass?”

“Mmm. Just a kiss, darling.” Glass raised her nose and puckered her lips for a brief moment while Petal looked on, scrutinizing her entirely too closely for Rosewater’s comfort. There was a reason she didn’t infiltrate the Rose Palace as Rosetide. He’d be found out in an instant. That was if Seed didn’t pick up on her voice, scent, or mannerisms right away.

Still, it would be good to see him, even if it was only for a little while. He was another connection to Rosemary. They’d been best friends growing up, partners in crime, and her frequent foalsitting had given her a great appreciation for the mischief and wily mind behind that laconic smile.

Rose Petal might not have been a Rosethorn, but Rosewater had visited the vineyards often enough over the years, often to babysit for Seed, that Petal might still recognize the hint of her under Tide’s musk, even despite the purity bath.

So she nursed her glass of wine carefully, drawing and atomizing wine to cover the rest of her in a haze of drunken scent.

“Well, maybe another time, Tide,” Glass said and brushed aside the last of the crumbs left behind by the ruffians and settled in. “To business?”

“Aye.” Petal shifted the glasses to the bar and examined the seat critically before sitting. “I was hoping I could offload more casks on you this time. The Rose Palace reduced their standing order again after Roseate made a ‘pass’ at Prim Collar. For just a baroness, she sure can screw up royally. Rosewater’s made her interest plain enough, and I’ve not been quiet about my unease. Mothers shouldn’t go after their daughter’s mates.” Petal waved a hoof and drew a bottle over.

Glass snorted. “You and a good chunk of the commons. They might not like Rosewater much, but they like mate-stealing less.” Glass took the bottle in hoof and twisted the cork free with a bite and jerk of her head. She spat the cork into a basket at the end of the bar and poured. “That why they’re so hard up on your lot lately?”

“Even the bottles, they’re not taking as many of. Starting last month, they’ve been cutting back, and we’re edging steadily towards breaking even instead of profit.” Petal chuckled. “Not that that stops her ponies from coming down to the vineyards for a premium tasting and chat.”

“W-why not sell across the Merrie?” Rosewater asked in Tide’s nervous tone. “Gran’s been selling more and more soaps and shampoos.”

“An idea, thank you, Tide. I’ll have to see if there’s anypony willing to represent me there.” Petal flicked an ear. “I’m afraid I’m a ‘pony of interest’ in several cases of scent magery. And Seed’s about as Rosethorn as you are.”

Rosewater closed her mouth again and sank into her wine, sipping at it while she listened to the other tables. None of them had said anything interesting all night, though, and she’d already known about the Rose Palace trying to snub the Rosewine Vineyards. The reason why was new. She would have to keep that in mind for the future.

“Do you know why they’re doing that?” Glass asked.

“Eh. Cutting costs, I think. Talk down on the docks is that Roseate’s been buying a lot of fragrance ingredients from overseas. Even had her daughter go down and ‘negotiate’ a better deal.” Petal rolled her eyes. “Surprised Cargo Manifest could see straight after rutting Rosewater, if he’s telling even half the truth.”

Glass shot a look at Rosetide that Petal didn’t miss.

“Oho?” Petal took a closer look at Rosetide. “Ah… I’d wondered why you smelled so familiar. You have been having a go at her, then?”

“No,” Rosewater said flatly. Her coat prickled as more eyes turned towards her. “E-excuse me.” She slid from the darkest end of the booth and stepped free, making sure to keep the carmine powders from scraping free.

“You know,” Rose Petal said as Rosewater sidled past, “one of our patrons said he was going to be spending the night at our humble Gardens in a couple nights. Unusual for him, he’s usually getting strung along pretty hard behind that cold Rosetail. The poor dear might need a detox.”

Rosewater hurried off as Rose Petal chuckled softly.

Touche, Rose Petal, and thank you.

“You waited.”

Rosewater, cleaned and with the brooch stowed in her slim night saddlebag, expanded her shadow and a spell of silence to cover just the two of them, becoming little more than a darker patch of shadow in the alleyway behind the Rosy Glass tavern.

“I… I had…” Rosewater cleared her throat.

“As yourself.” Glass stopped a few paces away, watching her. “I heard about Rosemary. How’re you managing?”

Half a dozen lies came to her. “Barely,” she said honestly. “I’m running on no ideas but what I’ve been running on for the past six years.”

“Isolate, isolate, and isolate?” Glass asked sourly. She sighed and took another step closer. “That’s not fair. Not to you. Do you need a place to stay tonight?”

It was so very tempting. Not for sex, but to have somepony she could wake up to, share a meal with, share a quiet evening with. Something she couldn’t do in the estate. She had things she needed to do, though, and while it would have been nice to reconnect with Glass, she couldn’t afford the distraction.

Glass must have seen it in her eyes because she nodded. “We all still love you, Rosewater. Six years isn’t going to erase us growing up together.” She came closer and kissed her lightly on the lips, the warmth nearly breaking her resolve again. “We all miss you. Can I tell the others anything? That you’re holding up? Silver’s in a state, worried about you, and Seed’s been chewing the furniture whenever he’s over.”

“Roseling?” The name came up without thought and was out of her mouth before she could think to call it back.

“She misses you, too. She still growls about how you left her, though.” Glass shook her head, smiling. “I know why you think you had to. I can’t even disagree with you, with how they treated her shop, but you should have done it more gently, ‘Water.”

“You…” Rosewater sat, suddenly exhausted, tired of the entire mess she’d dug herself into.

“We’re still here for you. Don’t push us away.”

“Roseate will target you,” Rosewater said softly, knowing it wouldn’t be enough to make her back off before she’d even finished saying it. She could push. She could, and Glass would leave her again. Would she let me come back afterward?

“She has been already,” Glass replied, offering her a small smile. “Those of us who were your friends, have already been targeted for harassment. Do you think those goons came to my tavern because I welcomed them?”

“No.”

“They don’t drive away my other customers, my regular,” Glass said softly, “because they know the score. Among those regulars are some of the Merrieguard you fought with at the Battle of Primline Park.”

“It was hardly a battle. It was a couple of my sisters and a few Merrieguard.”

Prowling the night in Damme was something Rosewater had done many nights simply to get the lay of the city, mark out points of interest and where she might go to ground if she needed to. Alone.

In a small group, spread out across the southern lawn of Primline Park, the guards from the Rosewine bridge behind them stupefied by Silk Rose’s Sweet Embrace, it was harder to keep themselves hidden. Too many shadows moving across the open field made for an easy target.

It had been Roseate’s idea, and then her order when her daughters objected. It was a stupid plan, but Roseate knew that, and so did Rosewater. This wasn’t a ploy to cause chaos so much as it was a ploy to get Rosewater captured, and blatantly so.

Then Roseate could blame the capture of so many ponies squarely on her shoulders and levy punishments to her citizens that would also be pinned squarely on Rosewater’s shoulders when she was ransomed back. If Damme agreed to it.

And nopony would be left to counter her claims that it was Rosewater’s poor planning that had led to the capture.

She checked that the Bloom of Confusion perfume was still ready, something she’d made for just this occasion. It’d been tricky to distill the essence of confusion, but it had at its base, an essence of fear and worry, two things that Rosewater had in spades.

If the Prim Palace took the anonymous warning seriously, their ambush should be found out soon enough. It had been tricky aiming the teleport of her message in a bottle into a cloud at the right moment when it would fall into the public gardens of Prim Palace, but anypony watching would assume it was a pegasus who’d delivered the note, not a unicorn who’d been working on her range.

To her right, Silk Rose glanced at her, shadowed ears twitching, and to her left, Rose Crown’s ears flattened. They smelled it, clearly as she did. Ponies of the Dammeguard in all likelihood, but only a few of them. Scouts perhaps, or merely the careless ones that did not wash themselves properly.

She saw nothing ahead of her troop, however. An ambush behind an invisibility spell, she decided, and prepared the Bloom of Confusion. One spell to leave the ambush off balance, and then the order to retreat.

Rose Crown teleported ahead, blowing their cover.

Surprising Rosewater as much as it did the ponies suddenly revealed in the middle of Primline Park as a dome of invisibility faltered and fell into a shower of silver sparks.

“Ambush!” one of Merrieguard along with them cried, darting left to put himself in front of Silk.

A roar of battle cries from the Dammeguard rose as they thundered forward, their blunted capture poles raised and ready to ensnare any leg or neck that presented itself.

Rose Crown’s voice rose in an enchanting melody for only a moment before it was cut off, a silver dome covering her and taking her out of the fight quite neatly behind a veil of silence and the charge of the Dammeguard as silver manacles bound her to the ground.

Behind her, Lord Primline Collar locked eyes with Rosewater as she dropped her veil and drew out two perfume bottles, ready to do battle. Or pretend to do battle.

Distant sounds of whistles called for reinforcements as the two forces met, magic and hoof fighting back against the poles and bludgeons.

In any other age, the battle would have been comical, with both sides trying their best to incapacitate with the least injury, which would normally have put the Roses on the better footing.

Silk Rose darted off to help a pair of beleaguered Merrieguard fending off a trio of Dammeguard.

The purpose of the raid had shifted in a moment from causing chaos to harnessing a retreat out of the debacle.

Rosewater sent a fog of sleep to cover one Dammeguard chasing after a dodging pegasus who only stayed on the ground to harass long enough for their commander to rally. For her to rally.

As the Dammeguard slumped to the ground, asleep in moments, the pegasus took off and landed behind a pair of Dammeguard harassing the small contingent Silk Rose was helping. Both of them wore scent-masks, and while that would limit their ability to fight for long, it meant that Silk was having trouble working her way with them.

Before Rosewater could tear the masks away, a silver dome snapped into being around her.

Perfect.

Slumbering Scilla went away, and Rosewater began exerting pressure on the dome, forcing Collar to focus more and more of his attention on her. She, with only two tasks to accomplish, was at an advantage against him, with so much more to worry about, and it began to show immediately as the fog of confusion and worry began roiling inside the dome.

More pressure, draining herself faster and faster, and more confusion as she drew and pressed the perfume into the miniscule space between his dome and her own.

The shimmering silence around Crown flickered and died, then the manacles, but another pony came and captured her, his greenish magic a contrast to Collar’s.

Crown didn’t deserve that.

Anger flowed into her spells, and with a final heave and raising of her head, she pierced his dome in one spot even as her pressure on it everywhere else increased.

A resounding crack silenced the battlefield for a moment as the pressurized confusion snapped into a wave of orange and white swirls, coating everything.

Silk used the momentary confusion to rip the masks off the two ponies and then teleported outside the spreading ring of magical perfume.

Spent, Rosewater staggered forward a step, her eyes locked on Collar’s shocked expression.

“Retreat!” Silk bellowed. “Back to the bridge!” Before she passed Rosewater, she gave her a glare and snarled “You hesitated.”

Silk and Crown were friends. That came to her mind in a moment of incongruity as she watched her younger sister corralling their milling, confused forces back toward the bridge.

Out of everything that Rosewater hated about what she’d had to do that night, making her younger sister hate her that much more felt the most onerous. If she hadn’t played both sides, Crown might not have been captured, or felt the need to throw herself into a trap to warn them.

Not that Silk knew that, but Rosewater had been given the lead for this expedition, against the protests of her sisters and Rosewater herself—up until Roseate had thrown in a boon of ignoring Rosemary. It was her fault, ultimately, that Crown had been captured and Silk deprived of one of her closest friends—friends they could trust were few and far between as daughters of Roseate.

Rosewater gave Collar one last look before she turned, taking two of the golden glowing experiments and popping them into her mouth.

Immediate vitality surged through her, borrowed from herself in the past couple of days.

She was gone before the raging chorus of whistles and its attendant reinforcements could reach the edge of Primline Park.

“Silk still hates me for that,” Rosewater said softly.

“She isn’t a regular. And I hear she snaps at everypony that even so much as looks crossly at her anymore.” Glass snorted and shook her head. “Look, I know that faraway look in your eye, so I’m not going to push tonight, but please, Rosewater. Please come by someday in the open. We can catch up for real, and not like… like spies in our own home.”

“I—” Rosewater coughed and shook her head free of the embers of the fight. “You’re sure?”

“Rut me silly, Rosewater, of course I am. I wouldn’t have made the offer if I hadn’t been.”

“I have… if…” Rosewater cleared her throat and recalled herself to the task she’d set herself that night. “I need to know if Roseate is making any moves. Anything you can tell me would help.”

Glass sat back and stroked her chin. “What Petal told you was pretty much all we have. She’s been playing close to the mark lately, but I’ll put some feelers out to our business contacts.” A glance aside, and a thin smile, and she nodded. “Actually, I have something. Rosie Night sold a large quantity of Citrus Circus to the palace just last week.”

There were only a few reasons that the Rose Palace would want a lot of energetic candy. “They’re not planning any orgies.” And the candies would start to lose their efficacy as the magic Rosie Night poured into the batch leaked away. “She’s making a move soon.” Sooner than she’d thought Roseate would make it. Something had scared her.

“You’re sure?” Glass frowned and reached out to tap her breast. “Please take care of yourself, ‘Water. And please. Come back to us. All of us.”

“If… if she moves soon, I’ll be… I’ll need…”

“Us.”

“You,” Rosewater agreed finally, closing her eyes and hating herself for needing to put her friends in danger. “After.”

Glass frowned, but sighed and nodded. “After the dust settles. I’ll hold you to that promise, Rosewater.”

“It’s rare you call me down here in person,” Collar said as he walked through the permanent silence erected around the most secret of rooms in Prim Palace.

“It’s rare,” Prim Priceless said, passing him a stack of papers, “that the stars align.”

Collar scanned them quickly, noting the codenames of several operatives they had in Merrie, some of them familiar, some not, almost all of them operating as merchants or carters. He recognized a name he hadn’t seen in a while.

“Foe of a Foe is active again?” Collar turned the page over, then back again, frowning. “I thought they got caught after they tipped us off to the raid four months ago.”

“Either they did, and this is a ruse, or they didn’t, and they’re only warning us about the threats they consider big enough.” Priceless clucked his tongue. “I honestly thought we had Foe of a Foe in the Gilded cage.”

“Hm.” Collar glanced at the paper again, turned it over, and sniffed at the back. Nothing.

Lord Collar,

Our mutual foe is on the move and appears to be planning a large scale raid.

Foe of a foe

“Another raid?” Collar asked, sighing. “Is she going to try to make Rosewater go on this one, too?”

“Doubtful,” Priceless said, plucking out a sheet farther down in the stack and put it in front of him, detailing Rosewater’s known haunts. “Rosewater’s been more reclusive than usual this past week. But that pony you asked us to watch out for is back.”

“Rosetide?” Collar asked, raising a brow as he came to the sheet. Rosetide’s, on the other hoof, was practically social, even if he did tend to spend most of his time on the docks or at the small warehouse where his grandmother lived. “I see he came back on a different ship.”

“Not unusual in itself, but given the reasons you’re suspicious…” Priceless tapped a quill against the page and returned it to its place behind his ear. “Given his ‘timely’ arrival back in Merrie, I’m more inclined to give it a higher probability.”

Collar shook his head. “It’s not something we can test unless he comes over to Merrie, but it is something to keep in mind.” He shuffled through a few more sheets, scanning them. “I don’t see anything here that would warrant calling me down.”

“This… is about Rosemary, Collar,” Priceless said quietly. “This isn’t an outside threat, but an inside one. That’s why I asked you here, and why I haven’t put it into writing.” He settled in more comfortably, leaning against the desk full of ordered chaos. “Primfeather Wing is making noises that he’s likely to draw a line in the sand over her being housed in Prim Palace, and Lustrous Primmane is making the same sort of noises.”

“Do you know what kind of action us crossing that line will be?” He had some ideas. They had citizen groups they were the heads of, and businesses and ship-owners they were allied with that could make life more difficult for them.

Driving up costs of goods or artificially restricting the flow of them would make the citizenry more upset, regardless of who was to blame. One option would be to reduce tariffs on goods flowing from Merrie, making it more palatable for traders from their sister city to make the crossing if there were suddenly a dearth of goods Damme wanted that Merrie had.

Which would lessen pressure on Roseate. It was rotten, no matter how he tried to cut it.

“Not as yet. A few breweries have been listening, but they’ve always been on the side of anti-Reformation. They’ve already taken a huge hit to Merrie’s wineries.” Priceless smiled faintly. “Sometimes it’s strange to use my public job for covert work.”

“I’m sure.” Collar sighed and rocked back. “Something to keep in mind. We’ll have to wait and see what the cost of continuing to house her in the palace is.” He pulled out the Foe of a Foe letter. “I’m taking this with me.”

“Think Cloudy might have an idea?”

“No. I just want to think about it for a bit.” He sighed and rose to his hooves. “Anything else?”

“That was it. Be careful how you treat that young mare, my lord.”

“I won’t let it become an issue with the Primfeathers.”

“I meant in regards to her guardian,” Priceless said softly. “Word is that the bridge guard of Merrie is to forbid entrance of Rosewater to Damme for any reason.”

Collar let the ramifications of what that meant creep through him. Not merely could she not send letters however she managed it, not and have them be clearly from her…

“Stars. I can’t think of anything more cruel Roseate might have done.”

“I’m glad that you cannot, my lord.” Priceless smiled thinly when Collar gave him a questioning look. “It speaks to your character as a kind pony. I can think of several ways she might have been more cruel.”

Collar swallowed and closed his eyes. “Mare look after her.”

Days passed with nothing interesting happening beyond the slow progression of the sun across the floor, watching ponies go about their days, and assigning personalities and names to the most frequent of them Rosemary could see from her prison window.

No change in accommodation had been made, and while she hadn’t seen Glory again in the four days since, neither had she heard anything about her disposition.

The staff that came to see to her linens changing and ensuring that her soap and shampoo for bathing weren’t running low offered her another chance at breaking the monotony of being imprisoned.

Linen Dreams, a young laundress, was especially interested in talking to her, and even after changing out her bedclothes, she’d stayed to chat with Rosemary about what it was like in Merrie. Apparently what she’d told Stride had started to spread, and not a few ponies were interested in talking to the polite Rose in a glass cage.

There were others, but her daily highlight was when Cloudy came around for breakfast or lunch to catch up over the last two years. There was, unsurprisingly, a lot that Cloudy had gotten up to in the last two years of rising through the ranks of the Dammeguard, and their chat ranged from new friends, to new lovers, to business, and to Collar.

Which gave her fuel for her daily visit with Collar a couple hours later.

She could admit to herself that she’d been lax in learning about the Lord of Damme, heir of the house of Primline, but it wouldn’t do to show that she knew so little of the tidbits of gossip that Rosie had almost certainly dropped to her over the years she’d known the social butterfly.

It was his visit that she looked forward to as well, because it was then that he brought her a little bit of information about Rosewater behind a screened door. He’d met with her once in the last two days, at night, outside of the city, he’d said, and she’d been agitated to say the least, and kept the meeting short before leaving.

She got the impression that Rosewater was trying to act cagey, and said she would try to find some way to get a letter to her.

That had been two days ago, and while it had assuaged some of her worries following being told that Rosewater couldn’t contact her directly, it hadn’t done much to settle the worry that her mother was dropping into the same kind of depression that had followed Carnation’s exile.

“I could have done more. Should have done more. I could have fought a duel then.”

“Except Carnation had begged you not to,” Rosemary murmured from her ponywatching seat. It was getting on toward late morning, and breakfast was gone, Stride had come and gone for his morning chat, and now she was left alone for a few hours with nothing but the small library adjoining the suite to occupy her time. “She begged you not to because then you’d have been mother’s very next target.”

Time passed as, below, a trio of carts came into view and began unloading goods for the kitchen and the running of the palace. Nopony she recognized was there, but a fourth cart, hauled by a stallion who was clearly a Rose, stopped in front of the palace and waited until a stallion of Dammeguard came up to him and started talking.

It was a divergence from normalcy, and it held her rapt attention for the duration, wondering what Rose would be delivering directly to the Prim Palace and how he’d made it all that way without being remarked on or called out, or his… crate of jars.

Wishing she had binoculars, Rosemary strained to see what they were labeled with, but it was too far for her to make out more than that they were obviously glazed clay, patterned after the Merrie style for shampoo and conditioner in alternating sets.

“For me?” she wondered aloud.

She studied the stallion more closely, wondering if she’d seen him or partnered with him at some point, and almost immediately she felt a sense of familiarity with him. The way he held himself, the way his ears never seemed to stop moving even when he was talking to somepony else, twitching to every new sound around him.

Nervous, understandably, but not without intention. He never looked the way his ears twitched, keeping his attention on the pony in front of him, but he was always aware of what was around him.

Just like a raider was supposed to. It was hard to hide those instincts, even if they could be masked by adopting a nervous persona.

He was a raider, but had avoided getting caught or even seen.

After the second guard left, the stallion allowed himself to look around, a dopey smile on his face as he surveyed the grounds, then turned to openly gawk at the Prim Palace, massive bastion of stone that it was, until his eyes found Rosemary’s window.

Not his eyes. Her eyes. She’d know those eyes from any distance.

Oh my stars, you… Rosemary sagged against the window, her mind whirling as thoughts slid through and past others, wondering who her mother had impersonated, wondering how she’d managed it without her being aware of it going on.

The hiding place. The place Rosewater always took those she captured, so secret and hidden that not even Roseate could find it with all her resources.

Not even hidden, but out in the open. It had to be. If he, she, was there and doing legitimate business as a carter, then he had to have a home, or at least someplace where he went and disappeared from.

You sneaky mare.

The eyes lingered on her window for far too long, and the stallion jerked them away when a guard came up, and he made a show of apology as Collar came out to greet him. Her.

Stars above, she came to see me.

She was, all of a sudden, excited for Collar’s later visit. Rosewater wouldn’t make such an obvious show and not send something. A letter. A… a something.

Some memento from home for a keepsafe charm.

She was less than surprised when, fifteen minutes after the carter had left, Collar came knocking, a sheepish smile on his lips.

“Rosetide,” Collar said by way of greeting as he made his way down the stairs, the other visitors giving the stallion a more thorough study. The stallion was standing, nervous as usual, his eyes roving over the Palace’s structure. “I hadn’t expected to see you for another few days.”

“Aye, sir,” the stallion replied with a sheepish smile. “Got a message at the last port of call that Granny wasn’t doing too good. Hopped over on the next ship out, paying and working.”

“Ah. Good stallion. How is she?”

“As well as a pony her age can be expected to,” Rosetide said, his eyes dropping to the ground. “I don’t expect I’ll be leaving port again for some time.”

Collar nodded gravely, watching the pony for any sign of duplicity, though he was as he had been, nervous and a touch fidgety. Understandable for a distant Rosethorn cousin deep in Damme. It was hard to ascribe anything to the stallion that didn’t come from his natural circumstances, and pondering over it overmuch, or even attempting to unmask him would do no good.

“Anyways,” Rosetide said with what seemed like forced cheer, “I’ve been doing more around town because, and I got word that Roseling had a shipment waiting for you. A new order?”

“Aye, and I honestly hadn’t been expecting it for another few days.” Collar glanced at the palace where he saw Rosemary watching them out of her window. She often did that. Ponywatching was one of the few things she could do that was vaguely social. “We have a new guest we’ve been trying to make as comfortable as possible.”

“Aye. I heard.” Rosetide’s voice betrayed nothing, but his eyes danced away. “There’s been talk on the docks and in the taverns. And I hear things.”

He couldn’t tell what the stallion was trying to tell him, other than that he’d heard it, but his instincts were telling him there was more that he was trying to say. “I imagine. It was quite the event here. But don’t you worry, and pass my thanks to Ms. Roseling for filling the order quickly.”

Rosetide smiled sheepishly. “She was quite happy to, she said. She, um, also chewed my ears a little. She’d have been happy to look after Granny, she said.” He looked down at his hooves, then up and into Collar’s eyes. “But I’m gonna be there. I’m the only family she has left in Merrie.”

His eyes were unwavering as he said the last, and for a moment, Collar had the feeling the younger stallion wasn’t talking about Granny. He dismissed the idea out of hoof. Tide hadn’t given him any reason to distrust him, aside from his tenuous link to Rosewater.

“You’re a good stallion, Tide,” Collar said softly. “Give Granny my well wishes, and Roseling my thanks for filling the order so quickly.”

“Of course, my lord.” Rosetide raised the crate out of the back of his cart, and this time, because he was looking for it, Collar didn’t miss the letter he slipped ever-so-neatly into his day saddlebag in the same motion. He’d have missed it, if he hadn’t been watching for it this time, contained as it was in the order slip. “Rosemary’s usual order, and topping off your and Cloudy Rose’s standing order.”

If he’d known Rosetide would be coming by, he’d have had Rosemary write something. Presumably, he’d know how to get it to Rosewater clandestinely, but as it was, all he could do was offer him the bits on the bill.

“Take care of yourself and Granny, Rosetide.”

Rosetide tipped his head briefly and gave one last look up to the window before starting off. “Will do my best, my lord.”

Collar silenced the room before she could even ask him who he’d been talking to. She hadn’t moved from her spot sitting by the window, either, and only glanced at him briefly as he came in.

“A letter came for you today,” he said softly.

She glanced at him, then at the walls before she pushed herself up and closed the curtains. As soon as she did, the chill seemed to melt away from her and she offered him a tentative smile. “I can guess who from with that look.”

What look? “I haven’t opened it, but in the manner in which it was delivered, I can guess. Your… sister.” He was still having issues reconciling that idea, but it wasn’t so far-fetched. The issue was he’d always thought of Rosewater as Roseate’s daughter, and thinking of her as the daughter of a sane and, by all accounts, kind and thoughtful mare was stressing his imagination.

She opened it neatly, holding a knife to a flame for a moment, then slipping it under the wax seal, careful not to break it, and sniffed faintly at the melted wax. “Scented,” she murmured.

That Rosewater might scent the seal of a letter seemed absolutely absurd… until he recalled that scented candles of all types were common in Merrie. Still… “Another scent-marked hidden meaning?”

“It’s peach cobbler,” Rosemary said, raising a brow.

“My favorite dinner dessert,” Collar said with a sigh. “A message to me. ‘The palace leaks.’” In more than one direction. Wing was likely to hear about the stallion delivering scented soaps to the palace within the hour, if he hadn’t already.

Rosemary read the letter quietly, her jaw tightening, then relaxing, her lower lip trembling as she kept in her response. “The… last page is for you, my lord.”

Dearest Rosemary,

I apologize for the terseness of my last note. I had written it without the foreknowledge that you would be captured, but assuming that of the ponies arrayed against you, that Lord Collar would be sympathetic to your situation, if not your actions. I wish, dearly, that things would have played out differently, but I had thought from the start that this might be the outcome, and I only wish that I had prepared you better for it.

I have asked a friend to deliver this letter to you, a friend that I trust as I would my own four hooves. However, please do not send a letter back. I cannot guarantee that he would not be searched at the border. More and more merchants and common ponies have been subjected to customs searches in the past week.

I don’t know why, or what madness Roseate hopes to accomplish, simply that my communication with you will be spotty, at best, and conditional on Lord Collar’s agreement that a guardian should not be subjected to monitoring with the potential for retribution simply because I wish to write to you.

I will reveal nothing here about what I am doing, nor about what Roseate is doing. That would break my oath as your guardian, Rosemary, and I love you too much, and have too much regard for the responsibility as your guardian to do so.

All my love,

Rosewater Rosethorn

Heiress of Merrie

He turned to the second page, not quite done digesting all that Rosewater had revealed in her admission of why she couldn’t sneak letters across more freely. He had heard from Priceless that written information from Merrie was becoming scarcer, and the number of pegasi willing to drop a parcel with no questions asked was dropping precipitously.

Soon, he’d have to risk pegasi of the Dammeguard to set up dead drop pickup locations.

Lord Collar,

Any information you have regarding the health of my charge, or any needs she may have that I can see to, please communicate them to the Treaty Office, and I will be certain to receive them. Please ask Rosemary that she not expect any letters she attempts to post via the Treaty Office to remain unread. She will know what I mean, if she does not read this anyway.

My one plea is that you not accept any offer from Roseate for her return. She will sue to remove me as guardian, and that she has not done so already worries me. She would lose the case, I believe, before Celestia’s eyes, but I do not want to risk that case.

I will delve treaty law and try to find a way to step in myself, but my resources available to pay a herdgild are paltry, and the law does not support the right of a guardian to negotiate one for a pony past her eighteenth birthday. Were Carnation here, she would be able to request that right as a parent, and I would help her.

Please, my lord, burn these letters as soon as both of you have read them. I am treading a thin line already with Roseate, and this may be one step over if she were to find out.

Regards,

Rosewater Rosethorn

Future Baroness of Merriedamme

Collar snorted. She was playing the role of his future mate to the hilt, even in private correspondence. “You read both pages?”

“Yes, my lord.” Rosemary bobbed her head and eyed him speculatively. “She’s being earnest, you know. She’s offering herself for courtship, rather than telling you she’s going to court you, whether you like it or not.”

“How can you tell? It seems like she’s being very forward.” He waved the second page at her. “This isn’t the first time she’s claimed that I would be her mate.”

“She hasn’t in that letter. She implied.”

“Small difference.”

“Maybe, but if she were truly following the way that Roseate espouses, that a mate can be taken, I doubt you would be here, now.” Rosemary shook her head slowly. “Either you would have taken her prisoner or she would have taken you. There would not be wordplay, Lord Collar.”

Collar read the page again, thoughtful to the words she used and wondering how much care had been put into the choice of them. Rosewater did like wordplay, that was true, but… he sighed. He’d have liked to give it to Priceless, but giving Rosemary a letter and letting her have a memory of her mother hardly seemed like a fair repayment for his continued freedom.

“Do you want to read them again?” Collar asked. “Is there some kind of hidden message, possibly?”

“No hidden messages beyond the scented wax. Keep that, by the way. It may be a key to a future message.” Rosemary heated the knife blade again and prized free the slender medallion of wax. “If… you don’t mind? Can I keep it?”

“Please.” Collar chuckled. “It’s not like any of us could decode a scent message anyway…” he trailed off, thinking about the Foe of a Foe message he’d still not managed to come to a solid conclusion about. “I’ll be back tomorrow, Rosemary. Be well, and keep that medallion safe.”

Rosemary snorted and raised a brow. “You could simply come again today.”

“As the peach cobbler reminds me, such an act would be remarked upon. Departure from a pattern always is.” Collar settled the pages in the fireplace and touched the candle to them. “And keep a candle burning. I’ll supply you.”

“Thank you. It’s… it’s how I let her know I’m okay. If she stalks by at night.” Rosemary smiled faintly. “I think she knows. It’s… it’s something Carnation did. Whenever Rosewater had to go out on Roseate’s orders, Carnation would leave a candle burning in the window for Rosewater to come back to, to let her know that a safe space was waiting for her.”

“You both loved her very much.”

Rosemary’s smile brightened as she glanced at the perfume bottle. “We do love her still.”