The gold-inlaid double doors to the Princess Box slide open so smoothly Rarity has to double check that they are actual doors and not some sort of projection. A waft of heavy-duty cleaner blows out, the same brand Doug used when Cadance and Luna returned from Mount Aris. It masks whatever activities happened, if obviously, though the smile brimming from one pink ear to the other gives away the game. Meanwhile, Shining Armor doesn’t look particularly pleased with himself, not like Doug does, just spent.

“Greetings!” comes from the exuberant alicorn, bursting with energy as she bounds toward Twilight. “Sunshine, sunshine, ladybugs awake!”

Twilight’s returning, “Clap your hooves and do a little shake!” lacks the vigor of the pink alicorn, but Rarity doubts anypony could, and she shows an understandable reticence when they bump rumps.

“It worked?” Twilight asks, glancing at her flank as though afraid something might have splashed onto her.

“It worked,” Cadance answers breathlessly, winking at her husband, who can only return the barest of smiles. She loses her exuberance, if only briefly. “We’ll need to see how long it lasts, and whether Radiant’s ‘treatment’ helps, but I’ve got high hopes.”

“Yup!” Twilight’s attention turns from her fellow alicorn to their opulent surroundings. The place is spotless, with wispy spirals of gold dancing on the muraled walls, separating scenes of ponies playing and working and even sleeping, all aspects of life. Rarity even spots a hoofball game in progress, a steel-faced Celestia leading the charge against opponents more massive than those lining up outside. Plush seats stand ready at the large windows, one of them occupied by a now-catatonic unicorn. “Have you been here before?”

“A number of times,” Cadance says. She opens one of the inlaid cabinets. “You’ve got plenty of snacks, cakes - Rarity, cucumber sandwiches are here - and drinks. They’ve separated the alcoholic ones over there.”

“Fancy,” Twilight remarks, peering over the contents of one drawer. She pulls out a wrapped quesadilla before making a face and shoving it as far back as she can.

“Not quite, though I appreciate the comparison.”

A belated knock comes from the open door. A pure white unicorn stallion with a lush silver mane aims a jovial smile their way. His full-length suit is exquisitely tailored, running all the way down his back and forelegs in the most elegant of styles, and leaves his cutie mark of a silver crosshair exposed. He does remind Rarity of Fancy Pants in regal stature and gregariousness, except his actual stature leaves something to be desired: he is surprisingly short, as even she needs to look down to meet his stark blue eyes. Embroidery on his lapel labels him as the owner of the Detrot Silverados, the colors matching his team’s silver and steel, though there is a bluish hue to the steel that reminds her of the night sky.

“Argent Silverhoof?” Rarity says, recognizing the manufacturing and shipping mogul. She’s completed at least one order for him, an evening dress for one of his many pursuits, and would leap at the chance to craft an entire ensemble for him, her current backlog of orders be damned.

“At your service. But please, call me Argent.” He motions to the silver earth pony mare next to him. “My pilot and assistant, Plot Aplenty.” She gives a quick, though pleasant, nod. Rarity cannot believe anypony would be so cruel as to name their filly that; it must be a later change, like Chiffon Swirl to Mrs. Cake, though why eludes her.

“You must be Rarity,” Argent continues. “I would recognize such striking style anywhere.” Rarity feels her face flush at the compliment, yet he continues as if it is nothing. “You’ll have to excuse me. I heard the Princess Box was to be formally occupied, so I took the liberty of crafting something suitable.”

Before anypony can object - and Rarity doesn’t know why they would, the food is far from ideal - Plot Aplenty pushes a long silvered cart laden with silver platters into the room.

“I’m starting to notice a trend,” Rarity comments, earning an affable grin.

“I have a certain love of the metal,” the mining magnate concedes, running his impeccably polished hoof over one of the solid silver lids like he is traveling up a mare’s inner thigh. Rarity could easily see the unicorn of years past yearning for that hoof to travel along her own flank, and steels her features before she betrays the fact that she still does. “The look of it, the smell, the texture, the taste…”

The two quickly get to work, removing lids from plates and revealing the delicacies underneath.

“The silver topping is called vark,” Argent explains as he removes a medium-sized lid and reveals a circular cheesecake, completely silver with drizzled blueberry in an excellent rendition of the Mare in the Moon. It makes Rarity’s stomach rumble just looking at it, and it only gets worse from there. Nuts, fresh fruits and salad drenched in dressing sit next to a sizeable bowl of teal fruit punch. And then a miniature stadium that takes up more than half the table, with fine cheese and stacked crackers as the fans and stands, the green field made entirely of crisp heads of asparagus with white celery borders and bright orange umpires chiseled from whole carrots.

“I don’t know if I could ruin such a work of art,” Rarity protests, feeling ashamed at such fine treatment. Even if it is the Princess Box.

“Such a waste,” Argent replies, melodramatically mournful. “What good is something if it does not fulfill its purpose?”

Rarity has to agree, she has no intention of avoiding the mouthwatering creation. “You must have been listening to Tempest Shadow,” she remarks, coming off more biting than she intended, though perhaps appropriately.

Argent cocks his head to the side, carefully gauging her reaction. “You disagree?”

“Surely a mare is more than just her mark,” Rarity argues. She finds herself speaking bluntly despite the fact that the stallion in front of her far exceeds her station. Or at least did before she was an Element of Harmony.

“We all have our side pursuits,” Argent argues back, “but that ignores the main point. What of a mare who misses her mark? After all, is that not your filly’s mark?”

“Sweetie Belle?” Rarity mumbles, momentarily dumbfounded. She scowls. “How do you know what she is up to?”

Argent raises an eyebrow. “My filly and grandfilly write to me of their adventures, those of the aptly named Cutie Mark Crusaders.”

As if on cue the pink and purple maned crusader comes through the door, leading her grandmare, Cookie Crumbles, and a pink mare Rarity vaguely recognizes as being a part of Our Harmony. Their happy chatter ceases as they walk into the room, eyes going every which way as they inspect the splendor.

Rarity briefly locks up upon seeing her dam. It’s been years since they last spoke, and the bitterness of their departure still stings. Add to the fact that she’s still not sure what to say to her? What could she possibly say to the pony who should have supported her decision to herd with Doug, but instead could only focus on the negatives? And has the gall to go behind her back and meet up with her filly!?

“Dam!” Sweetie Belle exclaims, breaking into a smile and hurried trot. “I can’t believe you’re here!”

“Sweetie Belle!” Rarity replies, gleeful this time, as she embraces her little filly. Except she’s not so little any more: Sweetie Belle is taller than Argent, and very likely to grow more. It feels like she’s hugging Fluttershy, not the young mare that went off with Starlight Glimmer. But she holds on, focusing on everything to do with her filly and as little as possible on her dam. She breaks apart, though still holds on like she’s afraid her precious filly will run off to rejoin her friends. “What are you doing here? And where are Apple Bloom and Scootaloo?”

“They’re still in Our Town,” Sweetie Belle explains. “Working with the others.” A blush spreads across her cheeks. “I’m, uh, trying to get used to doing, um, things without them.”

Rarity blinks a few times, not understanding why Sweetie Belle would be trying to break up the Crusaders, before it dawns on her. “Ah.” She offers a sly wink, voice dropping. “Because of Spike?”

Sweetie Belle smiles, unsure yet hopeful. “Err, yeah.”

“Well.” Rarity looks at her dam - whom Twilight has helpfully intercepted and routed toward the window, engaging her with questions about hoofball - then back to her filly. “Far be it for me to forbid you from following your heart. Just realize, there are certain… tradeoffs… that come with that particular choice.”

“Thanks.” Sweetie Belle blushes again, nervously scratching at the back of her mane. “Grandmare Cookie, um, said something similar.”

Rarity grits her teeth. But before she can lambast Sweetie Belle for going behind her back her filly continues, “But as for why I’m here?” The young mare motions for the unknown pink mare to join them. “I’m taking Sugar Belle around Canterlot to learn about different cooking styles!” She whispers, “She recently got her cutie mark back.”

“Oh, it’s no secret,” Sugar Belle replies, a touch hesitant, like she doesn’t want to draw attention to herself. She glances back at her cutie mark of a cherry-topped cupcake with enough frosting to choke Pinkie Pie. If such a feat was even possible. “Before Starlight Glimmer… helped… my mark encouraged me to bake with as much sugar as I could. So much… too much…”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Sweetie Belle encourages, a swift tap of her hoof enough to break Sugar Belle out of whatever depression she was spiraling into. “That stadium sure looks good!”

“Definitely better than terrible muffins,” Sugar Belle returns, forcing a smile. Even that doesn’t last long. “There… isn’t enough for everypony, though, is there?”

“I’m sure Pinkie Pie could gobble it up on her own,” Rarity says, wary of invoking the earth pony’s name too many times, even if just in thought. “But I’m sure there is enough for all of us.”

“Oh, no. I meant them.” Sugar Belle points her hoof out the window at the swiftly filling stands, now nearing their massive capacity. “I… I don’t know if I feel right eating something that we can’t share with everypony.” She glances at Sweetie Belle for confirmation, then Rarity when she answers with an unsure shrug. “What would they be eating?”

“Haydogs dipped in batter,” Rarity says, her stomach queasy at the thought. Who knew Applejack’s cooking would spoil her so badly? Argent looks mildly offended at the idea of such common food, though he quickly hides it. “Hay fries with cheese. Maybe a shriveled old apple and some stale lettuce?”

Sugar Belle brightens at the list of unsavory foods. Brightens. It makes Rarity’s stomach turn all over again. “Yes. I’ll take that!”

“Very well,” Argent says, gracious and understanding while Rarity can barely keep from uttering something snarky that would be sure to get her in trouble. “Plot? Would you be so kind?”

“Of course,” she says, spinning about and leaving with Sugar Belle.

Argent glances between Rarity and Cookie Crumbles as Twilight returns with the pushy pink mare, though he focuses his attention primarily on the alicorns. “Thank you for graciously accepting my gift,” he purrs, tongue smooth as silver. “But I would not wish to overstay my welcome.”

“I’ll walk back with you,” Twilight offers, keen to engage with the short stallion. “You said you carved it yourself?”

“Oh, yes, though I leave some of the simpler sections to my assistants. You see, I’m very good with a blade.” Argent levitates a dagger from seemingly nowhere. Rarity instantly recognizes it as a twin of Luna’s, silver instead of cobalt, and she doesn’t need to switch sights to tell it is heavily enchanted. Twilight gives a low whistle, clearly interested despite the danger it might pose. He continues as he exits, glad to explain and Twilight more than happy to listen, “Most is simple sizing and slicing, but the tricky part is whittling the facial features on the carrots. I find the point to be best, but it takes a careful hoof lest one-”

Their hoofsteps slowly recede until abruptly cutting off as the sliding door shuts, leaving an uncomfortable silence. Cadance, just out of sight of Cookie Crumbles, gives Rarity a knowing wink - Rarity wants to gulp, yet she knows she would never act on those mounting feelings toward the silver unicorn, even if given the chance - before retreating to join her husband. Leaving Rarity with her filly…

And her dam.

She’s been dreading this conversation all day, ever since her cutie mark appeared over Canterlot. No, longer than that. Far longer. Ever since her dam confronted her over herding with Doug, insinuating and then outright stating that it was a mistake and she should withdraw from the herd. And fix this. Their later conversation went no better, merely entrenching them in their sides, and ended with her family leaving Ponyville entirely. And now she has been chatting with the foal she once encouraged to end as though nothing had transpired between them!

A part of her wishes she had accompanied Argent back to his box, even if it meant letting the infamously fecund stallion mount her. Anything - literally anything - to avoid this conversation. She mulls over just leaving. She has nothing to say, and doesn’t even know if she can trust herself to respond.

It seems Cookie Crumbles has the same idea.

“Soo…” Sweetie Belle says, breaking the uncomfortable silence. “Grandpappy said you might be here.” She chews on the word. “Grandpappy. Grandsire Flanks. You know, it feels weird that we haven’t seen our grandparents more.”

“Apple Bloom’s are dead,” Rarity states coldly. Her dam flinches as though the statement was directed at her. It very well might have been. “And we don’t know if we’ll ever see Doug’s parents.”

“Err, yeah,” Sweetie Belle says, keeping her game face on. Rarity is surprised to see such resilience in her filly. “Rainbow Dash and Fluttershy’s parents are all busy with work, and Pinkie Pie’s parents are pretty isolated. But, um, I was talking with Gran-dam Crumbles, and she said Grandsire Flanks used to commute from Ponyville to Canterlot all the time.”

“Really,” Rarity says, sounding disinterested. She looks her dam square in the eyes, barely holding back her fury, her question directed at Sweetie Belle. “What else did you talk about?”

“Life? Work?” Sweetie Belle brightens. Rarity wishes she had half the filly’s energy. “Like, with Sugar Belle! We talked about the pros and cons of different restaurants and cooking styles in Canterlot, and how they differ from Our Town. But Sugar Belle still has a long way to go; even with her cutie mark back, she has a tough time making anything other than muffins so tasteless you might as well be eating the wrapper and something so sweet your stomach screams at seeing it.”

“I see. Pros and cons?” Rarity continues staring at her dam. This time the statement is clearly directed at her. “And here I thought you only cared about the cons.”

Cookie Crumbles raises her nose just a fraction. “Because I worry about you not considering them.”

Rarity snorts. “Oh, pah-lease. Just because I didn’t chronicle every single miniscule detail about our encounters so you could take them into account doesn’t mean that I didn’t.”

“No,” Cookie counters, “your heat-addled mind leapt with nary a thought as to the consequences!”

Rarity stomps a hoof, glaring daggers at her dam. Her horn lights, grasping for something to throw in her dam’s face. Why, if she had Argent’s dagger, she’d-

“As much as I like hearing about my conception,” Sweetie Belle butts in, stepping between the sparking unicorns with no regard for her own safety, “can we please stop? And talk about this like civilized ponies?”

Rarity feels her fury begin to leave her. She takes a deep breath, turning to glare at the alicorn watching them closely. The pink glow around the long horn fades as Cadance tries an innocuous whistle. “You didn’t cast a spell on us, did you?”

“Who, me?” Princess Cadance asks innocently.

“You stay out of it.” Rarity turns back to her dam. “And as for you?”

Her aura whips a glob of punch straight into her dam’s face as she lowers her shoulder and performs the best hoofball charge in her life.

Next Chapter: Ch. 177 - Spirit Guards, Part Seven Estimated time remaining: 4 Hours, 12 Minutes