Sweetie Belle stares up at the ring of green. A sense of dread fills her stomach, tightening, clenching harder than when she thought Spike would be taken away for accidentally transforming into a giant dragon and foalnapping her. Actually, the whole foalnapping part didn’t exactly go smoothly, either. But that’s all in the past. Right?

Did something happen? Well, obviously, but is it something bad? Would he be taken away again? Would he be e-e-e-executed? She can barely keep her head from dropping to the floor in despair, forbidding the tears from her eyes. She had to live through that Tartarus once already, and now it is happening again?!

No! The Princesses wouldn’t let anything like that happen to Spike! Yet her bland reassurances do nothing to alleviate her agonizing. The swirling gray inside the ring doesn’t change into an image of a healthy Spike, despite her worry and wishful thinking. She hops onto one of the chairs to get a better view, shaking the wetness from her eyes, as if getting closer and filling her sight might crowd out the discombobulating thoughts.

“Hey,” Scootaloo says from her side, nudging her hard enough to break her from her funk. “Relax. It’ll be just fine.”

“Don’t say that,” Apple Bloom counters, squeezing into the chair. The three barely fit with manes, tails, and a foreleg spilling off the sides. “Don’t’cha know it’s bad luck?”

“Twilight says it all the time,” Scootaloo says haughtily, sticking her nose in the air. “And if Twilight says it, why shouldn’t we?”

Sweetie Belle snickers at the exchange, nuzzling her sisters even as they glare at each other. The reassurance that they are there, together, is enough to lift her spirits. Even if they don’t quite see eye to eye.

Before their bickering can worsen Chief Architect Chrysalis’ appears in the ring. She glares down at the three young mares, then pans the ring to the side to focus on the three changelings.

“Did I not tell you this was a priority?” Chrysalis’ emphatic demand gets Ocellus’ ears to splay back, draws a self-satisfied smirk form Pharynx, and causes Thorax to hunker down for a brief moment. “That sort of delay is unacceptable! What was the reason?”

“F-fulfilling our primary objection, your majesty!” Thorax stammers out, doing his best to hold himself up. Pharynx begrudgingly stays silent, Ocellus nodding along.

“I am no longer ‘your majesty’,” Chrysalis reminds with a scornful glare. “You may refer to me as ‘Chief’, Chief Architect Chrysalis, or informally as ‘Cac’. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Chief!” Thorax bows his head, Ocellus and Pharynx following.

Chrysalis pauses for a moment as she mulls over his answer earlier. “Very well,” she finally says, stifling the growl in her voice. She pans the ring back to Sweetie Belle, regarding the three young mares with a long sigh. “Sweetie Belle, Emp… Spike wishes to go over recent events. You may wish to take notes.”

“Notes?” Scootaloo scoffs as Chrysalis leaves the image. “I thought Spike took notes. Does he need a new assistant?”

As Spike comes into view, Sweetie Belle’s breath catches in her throat. She expects to see some wound on him, some massive scar, like the faded one on his leg from where Gummy bit his and took a scale. But from the green frond along his head to the way his pointed claws drum nervously against each other, nothing seems to be out of place. At least, with him; three teal claws reach down on each of his shoulders, deeply massaging into his scales. He looks to be enjoying himself, more than a little, eyes closed and back arched as the claws dig into him.

“Thanks, y’all,” Apple Bloom says as Pomarbo comes down the stairs along the edge of the room, Diamond Tiara in close pursuit. He struggles to climb onto a chair, only succeeding when Diamond Tiara gives him a hoof. She doesn’t seem happy about it, but keeps her complaint to herself and smiles when he glances at her.

The voice startles Spike. He nearly springs out of his seat, especially as he sees Sweetie Belle staring at him with a mix of curiosity and contempt. “H-hey, Sweetie,” he stammers, awkwardly scratching the back of his head. The teal claws, which belong to a slender female dragon, pull away as she backs up. Spike gulps, then continues with a quick honorific, “The just Princess presides over us all!”

“Hi, Spike.” Sweetie Belle smiles pleasantly. Is that a thing they are doing now? “Um, praise the sun?”

A moment passes, the only sound the scribbling of Pomarbo’s pencil. It worries her, if briefly, that he doesn’t come out and say what happened. Or who that dragon is. Or much of anything at all; instead, he just itches the side of his face. She tentatively asks, “So, um, how was the flight?”

“The flight?” Spike glances around. His surroundings are blurry, but Sweetie Belle can make out the other mares of the herd. “The flight was fine. I helped Twilight out with her presentation. But our destination was more dangerous than the journey.”

“Oh?” Sweetie Belle asks, leaning forward. Her bright, interested expression helps Spike to perk up, even as she flinches at the mention of a dangerous destination. “How did the presentation go?”

“We, uh, we haven’t done it yet. Perilous is that which cannot be predicted.” Spike scratches at his cheek, nodding to try to cover it. “But I’m sure it’ll be great!”

“Yeah, me too,” Sweetie Belle says, a little confused at the strange phrases he keeps throwing in. “So, did anything happen?” This seemed pretty urgent.”

“Um, no,” Spike stammers out. He shuffles before scratching at his chin again. “Well, sort of.” He growls at himself, slapping himself a few times. “Come on, Spike! Commit to the course!”

“I didn’t even know we could talk like this,” Scootaloo mutters during the ensuing silence, fascinated with the swirling magic above. She glances at the three changelings, each of whom are snacking on blue-buttered popcorn.

“Daddy has some dragonfire dust he can use in case of an emergency,” Apple Bloom corrects.

“But in real-time?” Scootaloo grins. “This is so cool!”

“Yeah,” Spike says, raising a claw. “To the glorious apparatus of empire!”

“Empire?” Sweetie Belle raises an eyebrow, then glances at the changelings. “I thought the changelings were part of Equestria, not the Crystal Empire.”

“Did I say empire?” Spike’s itching grows worse, his claws raking at his face. “So, um, you three. How’s making your mark?”

“Our mark?” Sweetie Belle checks her flank, and it’s still emblazoned with her shield and note cutie mark, similar to her sister’s. “It’s gone fine. In the day that it’s been since we last saw each other.” She cocks her head, looking funnily at Spike as he stands uncomfortably. When he doesn’t say anything she goes on, “We’ve been going over the list of ponies at Starlight Glimmer’s. We need to coordinate with a couple places and ponies, like Princess Luna and whoever’s running the Crystal Empire.”

“The Crystal Empire?!” Spike hunches down, looking from side to side. “Jeez, you are relentless! I don’t know-”

“Oh, come on!” Chrysalis erupts from the side, filling the viewscreen with her scowl. “Sweetie Belle, Spike was elected Emperor of the Crystal Empire. Now stop wasting valuable time and energy!”

“Elected?” Scootaloo scoffs as Chrysalis pulls away. “You mean like... voting? I thought they only voted on fruitless figureheads like school-pony president.”

“Hey!” Diamond Tiara objects, shooting Scootaloo the most lethal of glares. She pushes Pomarbo aside to leap to her hooves, growling menacingly.

“Didn’t you run for school pony president?” Apple Bloom pointedly asks Scootaloo before Diamond Tiara can charge across the table.

“Only because Diamond Tiara paid me,” Scootaloo counters, much to the grumbling of the pink mare. It does get Diamond Tiara to back down, if barely.

“Nice,” Trixie and Starlight Glimmer say from above, tapping hooves against each other.

“Can you believe this?” Diamond Tiara complains to Pomarbo as he rights himself. “I mean, you can see how good a job I’m doing as school-pony president, right?”

“N-no,” Pomarbo says quietly, shaking his head. He squints down at his atrocious hoof-writing rather than meet her fiery gaze. “I haven't gone to school yet.”

“Oh.” Diamond Tiara harrumphs. She haughtily glances down at his writing before sticking her nose up with an aloof sneer. “Well, maybe you should. And we should get you some glasses.” Then you’d be more like Silver Spoon. She sighs, wishing her best friend and sister was here.

Sweetie Belle can only stare at Spike during the other’s exchange. He looks shy, inexperienced, standing there with his claw awkwardly scratching at the back of his neck as he stares at the floor. A small, roundish, timid figure that doesn’t cut an imposing visage. Certainly no King Sombra, from what she knows from stories and pictures. Not at all what you would expect from a Princess or King. How could he possibly be an Emperor!? She had just been talking with the others about whether or not Spike is too young for any sort of serious relationship. And now this?!

“An Emperor?” she blurts out. She pushes forward, heedless of her sisters at her sides, and stares through wide eyes at the dragon who seems to shrink in on himself. “You can’t be an emperor, Spike! Shouldn’t ponies have to have, like, years of training?” She tries to peer through the ring of green, but can’t find Cadance. “I mean, Cadance has spent, what, a decade just learning how to rule!”

“Y-yeah,” Spike stammers, nodding once. “T-that’s what I thought, too. That I might just be a sovereign leech, draining the life from my host. But I’ve spent a lot of time with Twilight.” He slowly grows bolder as he speaks, “But more importantly, I’ve helped Princess Celestia, even if it is just reading royal correspondence. And after Twilight ascended, I assisted with all the paperwork Celestia dumped... I mean, assigned her to go through. Scheduling meetings, showing up at official functions. I even know how to smile and wave!”

If Sweetie Belle registered much of what he said it doesn’t show, even as he demonstrates his ability to smile and wave. It looks, frankly, somewhat disturbing and unpracticed. A lot like Meringue, for that matter. “But you’re not even a pony! You can’t...”

Sweetie Belle takes a quick breath as she realizes what she just said. It seems to snap Spike out of his melancholy, and he turns an angry frown her way. “I-I mean, you don’t have a cutie mark. And how will the Crystal Ponies see their ruler if she doesn’t have a cutie mark? Especially one like Cadance’s that’s practically made for ruling the Crystal Empire!”

“Well,” Spike says, folding his arms across his chest and glaring at her. “They did vote for me. They thought that I would be the best person to navigate our empire through troubled waters. Plus, Doug doesn’t have a cutie mark and he’s a prince of Equestria.”

“Prince Consort,” Sweetie Belle states, growling at herself. She doesn’t even know why she is arguing the point, except that - just like Spike was earlier - she is avoiding the truly contentious topic.

Spike waves away her objection. “The point is… Look, I don’t want to argue with you about this. A wise emperor knows when to circumvent a troubling situation.”

“Is that you, Spike? A wise emperor?” Sweetie Belle can barely keep a friendly smile on her face. She wants to laugh at the concept, how ridiculous it is, yet the dragon in front of her is deathly serious. “Do you even know what you’re getting into?”

“A throne is the most devious trap of them all,” Spike states, doing his best to stand regally and speak with an air of wisdom. “It’s a great honor, and a great burden.”

“So you’re going to do it?” Sweetie Belle demands through tear-filled eyes. “You’re going to leave Twilight and the herd. You’re going to leave me, to rule in the Crystal Empire?”

Next Chapter: Ch. 33 - Izaro's Turmoil, Part Four Estimated time remaining: 26 Hours, 57 Minutes