Morning light streams through the frilly pink curtains of Diamond Tiara’s room, softening the harsh glare but still bright enough to wake the slumbering young mare. She yawns, one hoof grumpily groping for her namesake. She has to push aside her diary and journal and unset alarm clock to find it on her nightstand right where she left it, and she sleepily rubs at her eyes after putting her tiara squarely where it belongs.

On the head of a winner.

She flashes herself a winning smile in her full-length mirror as she saunters to her personal bathroom. Although the mirror isn’t alicorn-length. Or even human-length, for that matter. And, as she thinks about it during her shower, none of the mirrors in their mansion are that size. That should be fixed, and sooner rather than later - it would be unbecoming for a Rich pony to be unprepared - and she makes a quick trip to her journal to jot a reminder down.

One ear twitches, listening for the sounds of Randolph bustling around the kitchen, but nothing can be heard. Her jaw sets as neither can she hear Thorax preparing breakfast, or even her dahm Silver Set. The frustrated grumble in the back of her throat turns into a long, drawn out sigh. They must still be busy in Canterlot, or not awake.

She ignores the rumble in her belly by focusing on her breathing, going through a quick set of morning stretches. She rubs a hoof along her damp coat, but it’s only the water from the shower. She frowns, going through the routine again, slower this time, elongating every motion and pause, and it leaves her panting.

She smiles at the light sheen of sweat on her coat. Dam says that earth pony colts find the natural smell of a mare alluring. And she might as well give her own a try, least of all because it is cheap and easy to maintain. And if it doesn’t work? A whole row of her perfume case is dedicated to those scents, but half of them are salt-based. She grimaces at having to apply such a pedestrian odor. At least the Apples aren’t good-for-nothing drunks, even if they enjoy a frothy mug of cider. Doug smells quite salty after a hearty game of buckball, though utilizing that knowledge would be more applicable if her younger brother, Silver Stud, wants to catch the eye - or in this case the nose - of one of the young mares.

Even after her workout and blow-drying her violet mane into her favorite wavy style along her neck, making sure to get the white streak just right, she still hasn’t heard anything from her centrally-located room. Her hoofsteps sound extra loud against the hardwood floors in the hallway. She slows down, now little more than muffled thumps, and carefully pushes open the master bedroom door.

Shadows bathe the entire room, only a thin beam of light from the cracked door streaming through. Everything looks in order, from the mahogany dresser and wide mirror to the closed heavy curtains. And her dam and Thorax laying ponyloaf on the princess-sized bed. Both are softly snoring, her neck tucked under his, and Diamond’s nostrils twitch at the thick, recent musk.

She swiftly, but silently, shuts the door behind her. A calculating smile crosses her muzzle as she walks, then trots to the kitchen. They would both appreciate a hearty breakfast, Thorax especially, and if they’re still sleeping she’ll even deliver it to their bed before she heads out. It was tough to tell with the shadows but he seemed slimmer, and she’s fairly certain your body weight is only supposed to go in one direction when you’re carrying a foal. Especially one as important as her new sister. But changelings are weird.

Opening the door to the larger refrigerator blasts a refreshing wave of cold over her, sealing the sweat on her coat. Apples, pears, or oranges? Apples. Apple juice, orange juice, or milk? Apple juice. Hmm. Is she being too obvious? Eh, might as well stick with the theme. She pulls out the apple butter. Except the only bread she can find is, ugh, two-day old rye. Prench toast? And she can fry up the leftover eggs for Thorax. It might not be enough for him, though.

Their second fridge is tucked away in the corner, concealed among the cabinets. She thinks it’s silly, hiding Thorax’s ready-to-eat meals in case dam’s high society friends come over. At least it’s convenient for him, since Randolph won’t touch it. Something about reminding him of skirmishing with the griffons.

She suppresses her shudder as she reaches past dark-tinted bottles to grab, unpack and reheat some beef cutlets. Not everypony can afford a second kitchen where their ‘ling can cook meat and not stink up the whole place. Somewhat paradoxically, it’s far cheaper than using Pharynx’s newly-opened abattoir. Now there is a changeling who has taken his skills and put them to a productive use!

She wafts a bit of the stench of the newly heated meat out the window. She wants to hold her nose, but a Rich pony does not break down over something as base as a bad smell! Unless that bad smell is associated with a creature deserving of such scorn and derision, and the act of holding one’s nose properly conveys said contempt. Like the last group of griffons who came skulking through town, purveyors of likely purloined products of dubious quality. Even though their price had been lower than anypony local, Thorax didn’t want to purchase their ‘goods’. He didn’t trust the ethicality of their harvesting, if it was legally obtained, and Daddy listened to him and sent the whole troop packing!

It’s amazing what one can do with the right set of advisors. Daddy didn’t know the specifics of the griffon meat industry, and Thorax learned it from a fellow soldier who heard it from an infiltrator who worked there. According to Thorax, there are going to be serious repercussions as soon as Equestrians at large learn of what goes on, and somepony - or someling - needs to be able to fill the resulting void.

So Daddy is taking a big risk by investing heavily into meat production and meat futures, such as Sweet Apple Abattoirs. Pharynx and Ocellus are busily revamping Doug’s seldom-used slaughter barn-

She gags at the thought, but it’s getting less every time. She should continue exposing herself until she can react appropriately instead of instinctually. Even as she finds every aspect of it disgusting.

-not that they called it that outright, and turning what used to be a single back-room operation into a modern facility with the ability to easily expand. It helps, drastically, that changelings can ingest every part of the animal, even the offal and bones, wasting nothing. Otherwise Applejack would have serious issues with their location in the back orchards of Sweet Apple Acres, not to mention Granny Smith. She wants to know how that conversation went successfully, if only to improve her negotiating repertoire.

She loves how her sire discussed with Silver Stud and her the intricacies of why and how he made these investments. How much of this was simply keeping your eyes and ears open; he learned of the problem when Thorax mentioned his broodmate struggling to find a pony willing to back the radical venture, and thus got his hoof in the door. How bits are just one way to ensure loyalty, but more importantly how being a friend in a time of need is a surefire way to make a friend for life, indeed. Although one should take care to ensure their investments are producing properly; there is no sense in sending good bits chasing after bad. He explained what sort of gains they might expect and further opportunities to be on the lookout for, should the changeling population explode like Queen Chrysalis desires. And the risk involved; if something happens to the changelings everything they invested would be lost.

Even though her brother is the most likely next proprietor of Barnyard Bargains, and she won’t directly use the advice, she still finds the example illuminating. How to gain friends, influence ponies, and even if you yourself aren’t able to take advantage of an opportunity how to redirect it to a friend who can.

Breakfast finishes quickly, her own included. She loads sliced apples next to high stacks of Prench toast, drizzles thick syrup on top, and sets glasses of juice on the side. One tray clips on top of the other, locking the glasses in place. A quick motion sets the stack on her back, and one precarious flight of stairs later she stands in front of her parent’s doorway, having made no effort to conceal her approach. She takes a deep breath, knocks twice, and pushes the door open again.

“Good morning!” she calls as she enters.

“D-Diamond Tiara!” Spoiled Rich shouts, frantically searching from side to side and grimacing at Thorax’s sleeping form. She spins around to face her filly, heedless of the sheets tangling around her hooves, tail clenching between her flanks. “What are you doing here?”

The startled tone surprises Diamond Tiara; her quick step back nearly sends the trays tumbling. “I-I’m sorry, mother-most-dear. I just...”

Thorax, still at Spoiled’s side, yawns sleepily. His nostrils twitch. “Ooh!” he exclaims, darting up and leaping off the bed, wings keeping him to a gentle glide. As soon as he lands his hooves beat the same happy dance from yesterday. “Is that breakfast I smell?”

Diamond Tiara straightens as she sees her dam’s harsh glare soften, but she keeps her head bowed. “I just wanted to make you breakfast in bed,” she whimpers. She sniffles at her dam’s rebuffing gaze. “D-did I do something wrong?”

Spoiled Rich sighs, long and drawn-out enough for her to untangle herself from the sheets. “No, dearest,” she says as she carefully steps down. Thorax’s horn lifts the first tray from Diamond Tiara’s back and places it next to him, digging into the beef with gusto. Spoiled Rich watches with mild disdain as she approaches her filly, removing the other tray and setting it next to her. She reaches a hoof forward, a sharp flick of her nose ordering her filly forward. “I was just… worried.”

Diamond Tiara stumbles forward, half-heartedly accepting the embrace. She looks up, but her dam’s face is as impassive as always. “I thought you’d like breakfast in bed,” she explains again, hoping to see a warm smile. “Since Randolph isn’t here, and Daddy...”

Spoiled Rich silences her filly with a gentle pat against her mane. “I know,” she states softly, allowing a hint of warmth to break through. “I… miss your sire, too.” She glances over at Thorax, the changeling gulping down his last piece of Prench toast. “Though I suspect he would not appreciate this particular scent in his bedroom.”

“Oh.” Diamond Tiara giggles nervously, inwardly appalled at her lack of foresight. Why did she think bringing meat here would be a good idea? “I guess not.”

“Do remember that in the future.” Spoiled Rich takes a bite of the apple, savoring the sweet taste. It turns to a frown as she stares down at the changeling inching his way across the floor, his tongue nearly to her tray. He stops only as he notices that she has spotted him. “Yes?”

“Um.” Thorax offers his best apple-eating grin, made all the more apple-eating by the apples impaled on his fangs. He points at the half-eaten apple in her hoof. “You gonna eat that?”

Spoiled Rich turns her attention to the apple, then back to the changeling grinning at her. “It is unbecoming of a Rich pony - and as a member of the herd, you are - to beg.”

In the blink of an eye Thorax sits rump down, back straight, hooves neatly placed inside his circled back legs as he patiently waits with a carefully crafted smile.

“Acceptable.” Spoiled Rich places the apple on the tray and slides it over so she can give her filly her full attention.

“Thanks!” Thorax interrupts. He doesn’t react to her exasperated glance back at him. “It was always a battle over food in the hive, so we learned to eat quick.”

“Indeed.” Spoiled Rich turns back to Diamond Tiara with a practiced smile. “Was there anything else you wanted to discuss, dear?” She ignores the changeling neatly devouring the remainder of her breakfast.

“Just to tell you I’d be at Princess Twilight’s again.” Diamond Tiara offers her dam a contrite smile. She isn’t worried about breakfast; her dam is just watching her weight after Pinkie Pie’s party. As they all should be. “Probably all day. I don’t know if I’ll get to my lessons.”

“Hmm.” Spoiled Rich nuzzles her precious filly, nostrils crinkling at the smell. “Very well.” A genuine smile crosses her muzzle as she gently taps her toward the door. She sighs as the violet tail disappears and turns to the changeling. “Do you have plans?”

“Um, not really.” Thorax burps as he stacks one cleaned tray on the other. “Spend time with the little ones. You want to join me again?”

“Somepony ought to keep Barnyard Bargains up and running. And Silver Settings.” She goes to the top shelf of the dresser, pulling out some of the drafting material Filthy keeps in case he has an idea in the middle of the night. A few elegant swishes of her hoof later and she has a sign, in perfect calligraphy, informing anypony inquiring about Silver Set’s jewelry services that she would be available at the department store. She flashes him a grin. “Though if they tire you out, then I suppose we can swap.”

Next Chapter: Ch. 14 - Glorious Vanity, Part Two Estimated time remaining: 30 Hours, 2 Minutes