Firelight Spark stepped into the golden circle in the most secure room in the Damme Treaty Office and sealed the door behind him. The fact that he had instant access to Princess Celestia’s word was a carefully kept secret, even from the other ponies in the Royal Guard, and it was his duty as a Knight of the Sun to keep the princess’s secrets.

He closed his eyes and focused on the amulet at his breast, and the store of Celestia’s power in the yellow diamond hidden in its center. Rarer than black diamond, it was said to have been formed at her ascension to immortality, a fragment of pure magic crystallized.

“Your highness,” he said softly, sending the magic out to sink into the circle.

“Sir Spark,” Princess Celestia’s voice said gently, her image appearing to him. She lay comfortably somewhere, her form etched in sunlight, gleaming and beautiful, more so than when he’d seen her in person and accepted this assignment so many of his fellow knights considered a backwater station. “I was surprised to receive your request for a commune. I take it there’s been a change in the status quo?”

“Yes, your highness. Roseate treads on thin, rotten ice.”

“Has she crossed a line?”

“Not yet. She knows which lines you have set, your highness, and she edges her hoof against them, but she has not crossed yet.” Briefly he related the contents of the missive sent to Prim Palace, and the attempted balking of a guardian’s rights. “Rosewater has pushed past the lines her mother has drawn, and Primline Lace has yet to file a formal complaint.”

“Remind Roseate who set the treaty in place, Firelight,” Celestia said in a soft, dangerous voice. “And remind her that there is no greater sanctity than that of a family, even if it is one given by law instead of by blood.”

“You wish for me to intervene, your highness?”

Celestia cocked her head slightly, sighed, and clucked her tongue. “Thank you for reminding me of the limitations I set forth. Only intervene as far as Rosewater’s rights to her daughter are concerned. Has she kept it a secret still? Or has she actually claimed her?”

“Secret, but she’s gone to Primline Lace to treat with her directly.”

“I wish that mare would be open…” Princess Celestia shook her head, her ears dipping. “But she is moving, and I suppose I can’t blame her for wanting to be cautious. As she should be.”

“Will you let her be exiled?”

Celestia hesitated for a long moment, then nodded. “If she clearly breaks the laws of her city, and not the arbitrary rules that Roseate puts in place, I will have little choice if I wish for the rule of law to be abided. But I will not tolerate Roseate putting restrictions on what she can and can’t do within the law.”

“And Roseate attempting to capture Lord Collar for the Herdgild?”

“As it’s within the law…” Celestia said with a sigh, shaking her head. “At the time, it was a way to keep them from killing each other and still getting to ‘fight.’ Sometimes I wonder if it would have been better to end the war and force them.”

Firelight said nothing. There was nothing he could say. That the war had gone on for centuries was bad enough, but the continuation of the blood feud between the leading houses of each city was well-studied historically, and had been his chosen course of study as a squire. It was a part of why he’d been chosen for this mission.

“Very well. Please continue to monitor the situation, Sir Spark. And one other thing. Your diplomatic bags will be all but empty on the next ship. Make a discreet offer to send a letter to me that I can forward to Carnation when she next visits the office.” Celestia’s smile bloomed into genuine warmth. “As a reward for finally pulling her head out of the sand.”

Spark bowed slightly. “Of course, your highness.” It was technically against the treaty’s regulations to do so, but who was going to tell Princess Celestia she couldn’t push a little on the side. “Will she be able to receive a letter back in reply?”

“Unfortunately not. The time it would take for a messenger to travel to you without drawing attention would be too great before the saner ship captains decide to stop northward service from the Los Pegasus docks, and I’ll not risk sending a pegasus courier north to bend the law.”

“Understood, your highness. I’ll make that plain.”

“Thank you. Please stay safe for the upcoming winter, and please don’t hesitate to let me know if there’s anything I should be made aware of.”

The sunlight illusion of Princess Celestia faded away into the purple dusk of the setting sun.

Firelight Spark remained seated where he was, thinking for several minutes before he rose to continue the day.

The next few weeks would promise to be interesting, at the very least, and he needed to make sure his staff was read up on the laws of both Merrie and Damme before they got too interesting.

“I already paid the treaty tax in Damme,” the trader said, rolling his eyes and glancing back at his cart hauler. “I’m just here to sell flower pots.”

Roselight resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “Flower pots are still a luxury good, as common as they are in Merrie. If you paid in Damme, you should have a receipt we’ll need the bottom half of.” She eyed the loaves of bread and pastries decorating the top of the pots. She couldn’t embargo his cargo unless she had sufficiently just cause, but that was more than a lunch’s worth. “And the food?”

“Lunch.”

As she’d expected. It wasn’t the first time a pony had tried the switcheroo on either side of the bridge, hoping to avoid taxes on something else and trusting in the animosity between cities to prevent cross-checking. “Ahuh.” She shot a look at her bridge partner for the day and rolled her eyes openly.

“But I paid!”

Roselight took a deep breath and glanced at her partner for the day and flicked an ear at him. “Stay here, Corporal. I’ll go check with the Dammeguard. Your name?” she asked of the merchant.

“Prim Potter.”

“Alright. I’ll be back in two shakes.”

“Rutting Merrieguard,” the merchant muttered under his breath, low enough that Roselight could pretend not to have heard.

She sighed as soon as she was out of earshot and trotted along the sparse line of traffic crossing the Rosewine toward the Dammeguard checkpoint on the other side.

The autumn flow of the Merrie river was low that week, and the rushing gurgle against the pilings down below was a pleasant counterpoint to the murmur of indistinct chatter from the business flowing in both directions over the second-busiest bridge in either city, and the day was bright and just the right temperature for being in armor and on her hooves all day.

At least she had a quiet night with her current lovers at the Garden later to relax and unwind in the baths.

It cost a few bits extra to use the Garden baths than it did to use the public baths in Merrie, but the amenities were above and beyond those anywhere besides the palace baths. It was a pleasant daydream to use as a shield against the likely answer and the inevitable response from the merchant.

“Sergeant Roselight,” the Dammeguard sergeant said as she approached. “One of those days? This is the fourth time I’ve seen you since this morning.”

“Seems like it, Sergeant Platinum,” she said, keeping the careful formality between the Merrie and Dammeguard. “Prim Potter claims he paid on this side. Flower pots.”

“Flower pots.” Platinum snorted and turned to the ledger book. “Don’t you have enough of those?”

“You’d think. Most of the clay deposits are over here anyway.” Roselight winked at the cute stallion inspecting a cart’s undercarriage. “Corporal Shine, good to see you again.”

He flushed pink, but didn’t stop inspecting, though one of his ears ticked furiously.

“Don’t tease the dear,” Platinum called from the guardhouse.

“You couldn’t possibly have heard me.”

“No, but I know you.” Platinum emerged again with the ledger, edging closer than she needed to. “Prim Potter, you said?”

“Yep. Would have been a few minutes ago.” Roselight flicked a look at Platinum as she went through it, then went back to watching the stallion as he waved them on without a receipt. “Lot of food going back and forth between Merrie and Damme lately.”

“Mmm.” Platinum’s ears ticked back. “You should come over more often. Shine’s been talking about you more often.”

“Has he now?” Roselight’s ears perked up, but she didn’t look to the corporal.

“Mmhm. Got a bit of a crush, I think.” Platinum smiled faintly.

“Like you had on Rosemary?” Roselight purred, glancing aside at Shine finally.

“That was…” Platinum coughed. “Here he is. Prim Potter. Claimed to be selling food.”

“Well, he did have some loaves of bread in those pots.” Roselight winked at her counterpart. “I’ll let you off the hook if you let me borrow your corporal to go over the load.”

Platinum shook her head slightly. “If he agrees, sure. But I can’t order him to go.”

“Fine, fine.” Roselight clucked her tongue. “But I hate to see a pony suffer from a crush. It’d be better if he got to know me.”

Platinum’s cheeks flushed, but she didn’t give Roselight any indication why. “Corporal, have a volunteer assignment for you. I think we’ve got a bait-and-switcher. Maybe something more.”

“Ma’am?” Shine looked up from his questioning of another bridge-goer, a civilian with no cart and only a look of earnest curiosity in his eyes. Probably a ship-pony, from the look of him, Roselight decided.

“Roselight needs a little insight on what he told you, so…” Platinum shrugged. “Next patrol is due by soon, so I’ll ask for a couple replacements to pick up the slack.”

“Um.” Shine looked at her again, his ears perking and showing his interest plainly before that Dammer hesitancy kicked in and he forced them back down again. “If it’s necessary, yes ma’am. I’d rather not have the Treaty office ding us for improper taxation.”

That was good enough for her. If she could get one more Dammer to open up…

“Busy day,” Shine said, his voice hitching as he laughed nervously.

But not a boring one. Roselight smiled more broadly. “Yep.”

There weren’t many ponies that liked working with raw soaps. The ingredients for them were too caustic for most Merriers to handle without seriously damaging their sense of smell. Lye, for example, was caustic and smelled horrible, not to mention dangerous to work with, especially for an earth pony.

Roseling was an expert, and she’d learned early on that her special talent helped her to work with lye safely, and turn it into the soaps and shampoos that she made, turning down the astringent smell while still keeping the cleaning power.

Not all of what she made were lye-based, but a good enough number of them were that she had to move her small manufactory outside of Merrie proper, and closer to the source of the wood ash she used as her primary source.

It was a quiet haven for her to work, and the smell of leaching wood ash meant none of the ponies that had tried to harass her over the past year tended to follow her, lest they lose their sense of smell for a week or more.

Even after you stopped seeing me, they kept coming, Rosewater, so what good did it do either of us?

Roseling sighed through her mask and poked the sludge bubbling slowly in the cauldron with the skein. She would need to skim this batch soon, once the ash settled to the bottom and the lye rose to the lipped rim and the stopper she’d placed to guide it into a catch basin.

It was something Rosewater would have been fascinated by, how Roseling made her soaps. She had been endlessly fascinated even after their naked chase through the woods to make love in a clearing by the different techniques Roseling employed to get the highest quality, least caustic lye possible.

That one night still resonated with her even a year later, and the thought of a potential lover who’d been so fascinated by her art being lost…

She tossed her head and brought her attention back to the process, touching the tip of her hoof against the black iron and pouring forth her intent and her magic into the bubbling contents.

When she channeled the magic through her hooves, the heat couldn’t reach her, but she never wore shoes while out here. It was too hard to keep the metal cool so it wouldn’t hurt after she stopped pouring her magic in.

When she was done reducing the stink of alkaline to something she could manage without a mask, once all of what could reasonably be leached from the mix of hardwood and a little bit of softer wood ash, her secret ingredient, she levered the stop out of the way and let the liquid fall into the heavy iron pail she’d use to dry it out into a crusty powder before adding the olive oil she used for the fatty base for this particular soap.

It was one of her more popular scents in Damme, and while she still had most of her business in Merrie, even her regulars were getting antsy about the way Roseate seemed to have it in for her, and her regular couriers were too scared to cross the river and risk getting their own businesses targeted.

At least the Garden was doing something about it. Sort of. Rose Petal was trying to quietly organize the other merchants and craft-guilds of Merrie to take a stand against the war and the way it was hurting business and trade, the lifeblood of any city.

She still wasn’t sure if she wanted to accept the invitation of the heiress of the Rosewine Vineyard and get herself into a deeper mess if it all came to naught.

Once the lye sludge had cooled enough for her to attach to her saddle carry harness, she locked up her storage shack and made her way back to Merrie proper, keeping her mask on both as a warning to other ponies about the stench and to keep the milder alkali stench from burning her nose.

Ponies who knew her gave her a wide berth as she made her way through the streets, and those that didn’t did so as soon as they got upwind of her. Some day, if she managed to get the permit approved and the bits built up, and maybe a partner who loved soapmaking as much as she did, she’d move her soapery out of town so she could avoid the grumbles and glowers.

The latter were a result of Roseate’s campaign of whispers against her.

“Wouldn’t it smell better if her shop went away? The neighborhood wouldn’t smell like lye all the time.”

Except the neighborhood never smelled like lye. She made sure that all of the stinky parts of the process of making soap happened outside the city, but ponies were reminded of it every time she came back with a fresh batch and the brief foray through the neighborhood and back to her shop and the well-ventilated work area.

It was her friends that kept her sane and assured her that nopony who mattered minded, and they even helped out sometimes when she made soap, taking suggestions from lovers who’d stuck with her through thick and thin, who’d known her most of her life.

Waiting at her door was a newer friend, pacing back and forth in front of the cart he used to carry her goods across the bridges to her newest customers.

“Rosetide,” Roseling said, smiling as she removed her mask. “You know my next batch isn’t ready for delivery yet.”

The stallion stopped pacing and the smile that bloomed was bright, his ears dipping as he bowed slightly. “And yet… I was wondering if there was anything I could do for you around the shop. Gran’s resting comfortably, but I get tired cooped up in the house, so…”

“Well…” Roseling winked. “Sure. If you don’t mind lye.”

“Use it onboard ship now and again,” Rosetide said with an eloquent roll of one shoulder. “Doesn’t bother me much.”

A lie, but a polite one. Those faint Rosethorn marks weren’t for nothing, and she could tell he was already having trouble, his eyes watering as he blinked rapidly.

“I promise this is not normal,” Rosetide said through a wheeze as he covered his nose.

“Sure.” Roseling rolled her eyes and fished out the key, let herself in, then held the door open. “But maybe you can help me pick out something to surprise my customers in Damme. You go there more than any of my other couriers.”

Rosetide immediately straightened and brightened, his pink and gold eyes sparkling. “It would be a delight.”

“Come in, Sergeant Platinum.”

Pushing back the tension building in her heart, Sergeant Prim Platinum pushed open the door into Captain Pink’s office in the barracks and saluted with hoof to peytral. “Ma’m, thank you for seeing me, ma’am.”

“Of course, Sergeant.” Captain Pink folded her hooves on her desk and leaned forward. “I try to make time for anypony who needs it. Your message to me was very clearly a case of need.”

“I… don’t know about that.” Platinum still stood at parade rest, hooves resting comfortably in a pose she could maintain for hours and had. It belied the tension in her shoulders and the tightness in her jaw. “Permission to speak freely.”

“As I suspect I know what this is about, granted,” the captain said, sitting back and taking off her circlet of rank. “It gets tight sometimes. Just have a seat, Platinum, and tell me what’s on your mind.”

That hadn’t been how she’d expected to ask what she needed to ask. Platinum took a breath and sidled up to the seat, grimaced, and settled into it.

“I… have a concern.” For yourself or for her? Platinum cleared her throat and looked to the captain for some sign that she would bail her out.

No such luck.

“It’s… Rosemary, ma’am.”

“I see.”

Platinum grimaced and flattened her ears to her mane. “I wanted to know what you thought of her.”

Captain Pink flicked an ear. “I think she’s an exceptionally talented young mare when it comes to her pursuits of things not related to the war.” She settled in more heavily and glanced at the pile of reports on her desk. “But I think I know what’s bothering you. That young mare befriended you, yes? When she should have been sneaking around doing war-things, she was dancing in parks and flirting with the guards that should, by all rights, hate her.”

“Should I have hated her? Captured her right away?” Platinum asked, glancing down at her hooves and not sure what answer she wanted to hear.

“Platinum.” Some tone in Pink’s voice made her look up again. “When I had that talk with you about prejudices and what we do with them, what we can choose to do with them, I wasn’t setting you up for failure. I was setting you up to see the ponies on the other side of the bridge as more than the marks on their cheeks and breast. As ponies, individuals as complex as you and Shine are.”

Platinum's cheeks heated as she nodded. Roselight wasn’t a bad sort of mare. She only had a touch of the Rosethorn bloodline, but there weren’t many in Merrie that didn't have at least a drop of it somewhere in their past.

“I think Roselight is a nice pony,” she said, feeling defensive.

“From all appearances, she is, and she’s taken Shine as much under hoof as it seems you have.” Pink shook her head slightly. “But this isn’t about Roselight, but Rosemary. Should you have captured her?”

Platinum frowned and started to nod, then half shook her head before shrugging. “I don’t know. Not based on what I knew about her at the time, I shouldn’t have.”

“That’s the right answer.” Pink touched her circlet. “When Lady Lace promoted me to captain, one of the things she said she expected of me was to be understanding of our fellows in Merrie, not to jump to conclusions until the investigation finished, and above all, to think.” She pushed the circlet halfway across the desk. “If you were in my place, what would you have done?”

“After the first few days of her playing around on the bridges… I think I might have offered to ask Lord Collar or Lady Lace to give her an escort during the day.” Platinum’s cheeks flushed as an errant hope that it might have been her assigned to the duty. Half from shame, half from desire, she looked away before Pink could see the hurt in her eyes. “After she got arrested, mostly what I’ve been thinking about is if she used me.”

“And that confusion is why I moved you to day shift so suddenly. She took a special interest in you, Platinum, and it’s completely understandable why you feel that way. But… I think you need to talk to her, learn her side of the story.”

“Ma’am?” Platinum snapped a look back at the captain.

“I can’t have my Dammeguard erring too hard on either side of the law, sergeant.” Pink settled the circlet back between her ears, the gemstones glowing faintly then fading as it settled itself into place firmly. “I’m going to cut you some orders to split your time between bridge duty opposite Roselight, with Shine, and time guarding our prisoner in the Prim Palace.”

“Ma’am?” More confusion, and a growing sense of dread filled her. How could she look Rosemary in the eye and not wonder if she’d betrayed her trust? She didn’t want to see confirmation of Rosemary’s duplicity and let her confusion turn into dislike or even hate. It might taint her working relationship with Roselight. It might lead to…

“Talking to her is voluntary, but I expect she’ll want to, once she smells you outside her door.” Pink clucked her tongue and drew out a parchment. “Your lieutenant will have your orders by the end of day.”

“And…”

“And I think there’s little else you can talk to me about. Your questions are all for Rosemary, and all I would make you do is wonder if I was right or not and question my thoughts and evaluation of her.” Captain Pink bobbed her head once towards the door. “You know where my office is if you have any concerns after talking to her.”

At least you have a reason to see her. Whether that revealed Platinum’s fears or vindicated her hopes…

Stars, I hate this war.

Glory basked in the warmth of Poppy’s lovemaking, the slow-fading pleasure as his cock still stirred inside her, the last little spurts of his come adding just a touch more feeling to the full sensation of his flared head as he settled onto her back more heavily, his lips on her neck ardent and his breath shuddering.

“Love you,” Poppy whispered as he gave one last desultory thrust, determined to give Glory one more shuddering orgasm.

“Love you,” Glory whispered back. While they had Collar’s assurance that their room had been fitted with the silence wards, Glory hadn’t gone behind her mother’s back for nigh on twenty years without being cautious. Even her lovemaking was nearly silent, and the only sign that they had used the room would be the lingering scent of their sweat and passion. “Stars, Poppy…”

Minutes passed as they cleaned up quietly, sharing kisses and nuzzling as the sunlight finally fled from the curtained windows.

“I’ve been thinking,” Glory said finally as she deposited the final towelette into the basket for him to take care of after she was escorted back to the prison by Cloudy.

“About?” He asked, pulling back to look her in the eyes.

“A lot, but… Poppy, have you given some thought to our future?”

His cheeks flushed, but he nodded. “Marriage?”

“Farther along. Or shorter. Foals, Poppy. Ours.” Glory nuzzled his cheek again at his shocked expression. “I’ve thought about it a lot.”

Poppy hesitated, then leaned forward and kissed her lightly. “It’s been on my mind, too, but…” He laid back down and stroked her barrel lightly. “You’ve told me about your lovers in Merrie. What do Dancing and Pride have to say? What would they say?”

“That it’s my choice. They’re not my bonded partners, Poppy, and all they know about you is that I have a close acquaintance in Damme.” Glory kissed his nose and sidled closer. “They might be a bit put off, but considering our situation… Poppy, if I’m a parent, even an expectant one, I can divorce myself of the war, of the family, and start my own.”

“And your lovers?”

Glory winced and sighed, settling more heavily into bed. “Stars, I love them, too, but I can’t go to them. I can’t ask you to go, either. It would put all of you in danger.”

Poppy kissed her nose. “We’ll find a way to keep them safe.”

“And you.” Glory leaned back and looked him in the eye. “She’s not going to let you stay out of the conflict if she thinks I’ve betrayed her to stay with you.” It was her greatest fear in keeping her relationship with Poppy secret. Even the risks they’d taken making love in her cell had kept her ready to weave illusion over him in an instant. Now, at least, she could find her comfort with him in the luxury of the palace on occasion, safe from prying eyes. “She’ll take you like she tried to take Cloudy.”

“You’ve taught me a lot about resisting—”

“I am a terrible scent mage, Poppy. My talent is the weaving of light and mist into illusion and invisibility.” Glory shook her head. “What I can teach you is nothing to what even a pony like Rosemary could teach you, or Rosewater if—”

“I won’t let her get near me with scents.”

“She’s not as dangerous… well, I mean, she is… but she has morals, Poppy. Don’t look at her like she’s a monster.” Glory prodded his chest with a gentle hoof. “I know her better than anypony but Rosemary. You have nothing to fear from her. Try to engage her on her next visit, and you’ll see.”

“She’s got a schedule that the guard has posted in the barracks. I didn’t think she’d be able to get that so quickly,” Poppy admitted.

“I wish I could say that she makes moves decisively, but…” Glory shook her head.

“She seems to have always moved that way to us, you know.”

“Only because all you know of her is the rumor and gossip. I know her as a kind and thoughtful mare pushed to do things she regrets to protect what she considers most important to her.” Glory pushed his chest lightly. “She loves Rosemary more than anything else, and has kept her aunt’s request to keep her safe. That’s her guiding focus, or it has been since Carnation left.”

Poppy was silent for several moments, rubbing her ankle lightly with his nose, then crossing horns with her and resting his forehead against hers. “I trust you. I’ll try to talk to her next time I see her. But… I’ve heard a lot about her father lately. She’s half Canterlotian?”

“Blue Star. Former Lord Knight of the Knights of the Radiant Dawn. He stepped down to be a father here in Merrie after finishing his tour with the diplomatic corps.” Glory nodded. “I’ve read as much on him as I could, but most of his history would be in Canterlot. I’ve never been, but I’ve always wanted to.”

“When it’s over,” Poppy murmured, kissing her nose. “I’d love to see it, too, and take you to all the libraries.”

“Pft. Way to make Crown jealous of me,” Glory said with a smirk. “She’d be steaming when I got back if I left her out.”

“She’s… also?”

“A trapped pony. Like Rosewater and I,” Glory confirmed. “Most of us…” It would have been a dream to be free of the war, to live her life and maybe pursue a hobby of helping playwrights make their performances pop just a little more. Scenery, especially. She loved painting with illusion, and a small stage would be just the right size. “Most of us wouldn’t even be raiders, had we the choice. That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t take us seriously, because we will fight for what little pieces of happiness we can find.”

“I’ve found that makes ponies more dangerous. Not less.”

“Indeed.”

“What are we going to do if it works?”

Dapper looked up from his comfortable pillow to where Lace was studying the slow wilt of the flowers in her garden. Daylight was coming less and less, and this time of year was a naturally melancholic time for her. Both of her parents had passed on in the autumn, and while Collar had been born then, too, the colors of autumn and what they meant weighed on her more and more as the twilight of their years together was drawing close.

“Help them.”

Lace gave him a look, smiled, and nodded. “We will. I’m more worried about after.”

“Wing can’t do much if you put your hoof down, you know.”

“But my ponies can.” It was the relief valve of the Damme constitution and charter, that a majority of her ponies might petition to refute her rule and choose another way. It had only been used one time in the entire history of Damme, when the Primfeathers had been ousted and the Primline family had been chosen to be the new leaders of Damme.

The same kind of avenue for relief did not exist in Merrie. Popular uprising was the only way to oust Roseate, and even then it would be extremely tenuous about who would take the ultimate seat of power, and all the while their neighbor’s instability would be affecting Damme.

Dapper closed his eyes and nuzzled his wife’s neck. “It will be a lot of work.”

“It will be. But…” Lace shifted and leaned back against his nuzzle. “I saw Carnation in that mare today. Scared, tired, but I saw my friend’s hoof in her morals. Fiercer than Carnation could ever be, but…”

“But she’s had to be.”

“Has she? What if I’d reached out to her after Carnation’s exile?” Lace let out a breath and settled more heavily, drawing the coverlet over her more firmly. “So many what ifs.”

“Let them go. What’s happening now is all you need to worry about,” Dapper murmured. “And I feel like there’s enough that’s going to be happening that we’ll not have a lot of time to worry about what might have been.”

“Cloudy,” Lace said, the smile audile in her tone, “seems to be leading Collar towards at least trying to make nice with Rosewater. I think… I honestly think that she might already be falling for the mare.”

“Considering their interactions, I’m not surprised.” He nipped the back of his wife’s neck and nosed her mane. “She reminded me of you, from what you said of her.”

Lace was silent for a moment, then settled in deeper into bed, relaxing by inches. “Her preconceptions of Rosewater have been challenged left and right. The mare strikes me as the type to want to experience more of life than hide from it, and I can only hope that Rosewater is who she revealed herself to be.”

“I don’t think,” Dapper said, slipping a wing under the blanket to cover her side, “what you told me was a lie. In Merrie, there’s a saying that words lie and actions speak truth.”

“Actions speak louder than words,” Lace said with a huff. “Overly wordy Merrier philosophy.”

“Overly concise Prim sayings,” Dapper huffed right back, smiling into her neck. “I love you.”

“I love you, my Rose.”

Dapper’s smile broadened and settled in more heavily, letting his eyes close as he thought of ways to reach out to Rosemary more clearly, how to help his son find his way through the tricky relationship he seemed headed for, whether he accepted Rosewater’s proposal or not.

The thin journal, bound with oilcloth and resting on a shelf, forgotten for sixteen long years, was covered with dust when Lace pulled it down from the high spot on its bookcase in her office.

She hadn’t looked at it, nor even thought about it often, since Carnation had ghosted it across the river to her for safekeeping. It was a precious thing, Carnation had said, and contained words that the mare growing up to be more than a daughter to her would need to hear.

From whom they were from, whether they were Carnation’s own or another’s, she didn’t know. For all she knew, it could be the collected ramblings of a younger Roseate.

She doubted the last, though. Carnation had spared no love for her eldest sister, though hate was far from her heart. The note attached to the outside was simple, written in a block-type scrawl that wouldn’t trace back to the author in any way. It was at the height of Carnation’s fears about being found out by her sister, before she’d started to relax into her role as a hidden agent of Damme.

If I’m caught, you’ll know who to give this to and when.

Hardly precise instruction, but the events of the last days had certainly been notable enough to make her think about Carnation again, and to pique the memory of the bound book. To whom was almost certainly Rosewater, but she needed to be certain of that.

The cloth draping it fell away as she unfastened the bindings, and a faded note inside slipped free and drifted, then stopped, surrounded by Lace’s magic.

The final testament of Blue Star, loving father.

Suddenly hesitant, Lace placed book and note on her desk and cracked it open to the first page.

To my dearest daughter, Rosewater Star Rosethorn.

These are words you will need to hear when you are older, when you can understand what they mean. I’m entrusting these to your aunt Carnation to pass on to you when the time is right. I have not long, but there are things every child needs to hear from their father. That I was brought up to believe needed to be said.

First, I love you. With all my being. Whatever else happened between your mother and I, I do not regret, nor would I undo any decision I made, so long as you were there to smile and laugh and tell me all about your day.

Lace closed the book and held a hoof to her lips, breath tight in her chest. She would need to be careful when she gave it to Rosewater.

At the wrong time, it might ruin her.

Stars above.

Author's Notes:

I want to thank Hypervelocity, Carapace, and Minds Eye for helping me decide what viewpoints to include in this little collection of slices of life on both sides of the river.

Enjoy this glance at some of the side-personalities that are important in different ways, to greater and lesser magnitudes, to the the longer story.

Next week, new chapters will be posted Thursday, Friday, and Saturday for the three part opener to book 2, The Primrose Gala, and chapter 1 - Chasing Scents.