It was a glorious morning in Canterlot, as every other day, was. For it to be qualified anything else would be blasphemy as it was brought upon them by the grace of Celestia, goddess of the sun.

Yet, one stallion was far from appreciative of this display of power. It may have to do with the numerous glasses of the finest wines he had drank the night before, as he attended one mundane event that required his attendance. However, such gossips are better left to others, the many servants of the royal palace for example.

The poor stallion cursed under his breath when the light shone down on his head, painfully awakening him while preventing him from opening his eyes at the same time. His headache was simply spectacular.

To add to this growing list of woefully occurrences, this particular morning was one he could not afford to laze in bed. No, this simply would not bode well with the dignitaries that would soon assemble in the throne room.

Resigned to his dreadful fate, Prince Blueblood rose from his sheets, uncharacteristically unkempt and with a most horrifying case of morning mane.

“Darn it, Auntie!” He grumbled, trying to chase the lingering sleepiness from his head. His eyes could barely stay open as it was. “Why did you have to be so punctual?”

The fact that her punctuality kept the world alive was but secondary to the unicorn’s momentary discomfort. As the eldest of Celestia’s male descendant, he was entitled to everything he ever wanted, or so his titles said.

Peace of mind was not what he wanted though, or else there never would have been polite yet rapid knocks on his beautifully sculpted door.

“My prince?” came the unsure, nervous question of a mare.

Wordlessly, he opened the door with his telekinesis and let her in. Still without a word or the servant, Blueblood stood motionless, waiting for her to groom him, as was her task every morning.

Just as silently, the maid, a light yellow earth pony, got to work. In Canterlot, servants rarely spoke unless directly addressed. It was good protocol after all.

His personality had nothing to do with her silence…

It took a little longer than usual, to the unicorn’s great irritation, as his mane usually was not nearly as unruly as it was. This did nothing to ease the already darkening mood of the prince.

“Would it be too much to ask that you refrain from attacking my mane so viciously?!” He snapped after one too many times tangled golden strands of hair had resisted her brush.

“I-I will be more gentle, my prince.”

As any perceptive and sensible pony would have done in her situation, the maid did her best to finish this ungrateful task, but not without earning herself another angry berating.

“I told you to be more careful! Yet my neck feels sore with all this pulling you have subjected me to!” The white stallion growled. “Are you so useless that a simple order is too much for you?!”

The maid shrank away a few steps, paling under her fur. “N-no, my prince. I promise this will not happen again.” She bowed to him, hoping that he was feeling a little more gentlecolt than he was presented as.

“It better not or you will appreciate first hoof how hard it is for a mare to get a job after crossing her prince.”
As humbly as she could manage, the maid replied a proper word of gratitude for his mercy. Her voice held nothing of her inner panic and fear, as was proper decorum in Canterlot.

Traditions that many nobles, especially from the oldest families, held particularly dear to their hearts. Chivalry and servitude was something to be shown to your superior while politeness and pleasantries were reserved for equals. Inferiors… well, if you treated them just like you did your equals, what message did that send to your business partners?

As much as it abhorred her, Celestia had allowed this attitude to thrive in her own castle. She could not very well intervene into the nobles’ attitudes, when the same tradition was perpetrated by the ponies working for her.

Very few ponies understood the difference between the deference and adoration that fueled Celestia’s servants and the quiet submission of those under Canterlot’s nobles.

Prince Blueblood was not one such stallion.

“Now, tell me, have any of the dignitaries arrived yet?” The unicorn asked acidly.

“No, my prince. The Princesses are waiting for you in the great hall, Sir.”

Blueblood harrumphed in a much undignified way that would make many of his frequentations cringe, for they knew what kind of attitude this promised for the remainder of the day.

A bad one.

When he arrived into the pristine halls, the unicorn quickly noticed that he was amongst the latest to take place at the wooden table. Both alicorn princesses were sitting at the end of the hall, regal and basking the court with the power that seeped through their very being.

A small and slightly forced smile graced Luna’s features at the sight of her nephew, but nothing could be said about Celestia’s excellent poker face.

“Ah, dear nephew, we were starting to get worried,” the sun goddess said neutrally.

“There was no need, Aunt Celestia.” Blueblood shrugged, then bowed. “I am sorry to have troubled you; the servants simply had troubles working efficiently this morning.”

Many mares and stallions must have imagined the cringe she reacted with. It would be unthinkable that the princess could be surprised, pleasantly or not.

As it stood, the casual dismissal of a maid did not bode very well with her. Unfortunately, there was one subject that demanded her attention with much more urgency.

“Very well, please take a seat.” She made a passing motion and leaned closer to her sister.

Blueblood noted the few exchanged words between the two alicorns, but gave no indication he had. Instead, he chose to focus on the servants that had appeared when his presence had been made known.

He held back a glare when the cook placed a stunning piece of fruit crepes decorated with whipped cream. However impressive the design was, this was a far cry from his usual breakfast and this decrease in standards left a bad taste in his mouth. Still, the part of him that was cunning reminded him of his aunt’s aversion to outbursts such as the one he had in mind, as the tradition she helped created dictated.

The unicorn appreciated the moment as well as he could, making small talk with the other heirs of the royal families, namely Duchesse Golden Fields of the earth pony line and Lord Valiant Winds of the pegasi line.

“Rumors have it that this stallion may have met his match, Prince,” the orange mare said with an amused smile. “At least in terms of wine tasting.”

This elicited a snort from the pegasus to her left. “My dear, we all know that Blueblood has no match in that department for sure.”

“Of course, sir Valiant,” Blueblood raised his head with self-importance. “The art of fine wine is only one of the many skills I have developed over years of careful cultivation.”

“As is the art of being caught in completely inappropriate places by journalists, I presumed.” Duchesse Golden Fields replied mischievously.

Under Prince Blueblood’s questioning gaze, the mare found it better to let images speak and called for her servants to show the object of her conversation to her fellow noble.

“The Prince strikes yet again,” Valiant Winds cited, grinning. “I take it the wine was good.”

“Fabulous, as you can imagine.” Prince Blueblood managed to keep his tone delightfully arrogant. Pride was the mark of a noble prince. “As for the journalists, my dear Duchesse, it pains me to be so irresistible to their eyes, but,” he paused for dramatic effect, “such is our lot as the royal heirs of Equestria. The common people must know of their leaders’ lives.”

His heartfelt declaration did little to convince the other two heirs that he was not a party animal, nor did it seem to touch the servants as it was meant to. To his dismay, he could hear eyes rolling in amusement or annoyance.

However, soon, an old unicorn that Blueblood recognized as a lesser noble distantly related to him spoke up, with a soft tone that carried much wisdom and concern.

“While Prince Blueblood’s worries are as noble as his lineage, I find myself rather pushed toward the issues we must attend to today.” The gentlecolt frowned, no doubt by his own reminder of the situation at hands. “These disappearances seem to have multiplied recently.”

An unfortunate occurrence, truly, but the royal heirs were not as concerned as one could be. After all, with the amount of protection they were granted by the royal guard, it would be unthinkable that they were to come into harm’s way.

When they had all express proper indignation at this sad situation, the conversation drifted away once more, going into more pleasant topics.

This small moment of respite from suffering a growing crowd of less than stellar servants did wonder to Blueblood’s mood, though he was not a stallion that would let go of these issues so easily.

Eventually, not long after all plates had been cleared, Celestia announced, her voice ringing with majesty, that they were to accompany her for the audiences today.

In little time, they had reached Princess Celestia’s throne room, a magnificent example of pony genius. The crystal-like luminescence of the very room seemed to echo their leader’s greater status. Even Luna, the princess of the night, seemed to pale in comparison with her sister, here at this siege of her power.

Quietly, Prince Blueblood admired his great aunt’s regal attitude. It seemed a further proof of his own greatness, that he was related, even remotely, to their beloved leader. One could see the resemblance in their coat, fur of the purest white.

One could say the resemblance was not even skin deep, but they would surely be vipers of the worst sort, spewing poison out of jealousy. Nothing more.

“We hereby decree the beginning of the three thousand twenty seventh public audience of our reign. Script Grave Calligraphy, ” Celestia turned to a little gray earth pony, “we ask that you consign everything to the archives once again. Now, let the first speaker be heard!”

From the masses of pones assembled, a pony emerged and started speaking, relating the events that led to the discovery of his wife’s disappearance.

From his place near the throne, Blueblood frowned. Far from trying to be insensitive, as the poor stallion’s distress was quite evident and understandable, the prince was still unpleased by the sounds of muffled sobbing that he could make out from the crowd.

Such breach of protocol was an insult to his Aunt and all three royal families. Here they were, the greatest nobles of Equestria, gathered to listen to the troubles of the common folk and they lacked this basic etiquette? Did they not understand that with the help of their Princess, there would be nothing to worry about?

As the audience went on however, it became increasingly clear that their despair had damaged their capacity to think rationality. The sobbing had become more distinct over time and many had simply broken into tears.

What was worse perhaps is that the guards remained stoic, probably waiting for a signal to intervene from their princess, one that would not come. Princess Celestia had grown weary, her luminescence dimmed by her own sadness. For someone as trained with her reactions as Blueblood was, it was clear she was suffering greatly from these horrors.

The last straw took the shape of a hysterical yellow mare whose words were distorted by uncontrollable wails. Her foal had been taken from her just the day before and she was unable to explain how she had discovered that fact, even after numerous gentle nudges from his aunts.

“Enough!” He snapped. “Control yourself, mare! You are in Canterlot, embarrassing this court and your princess with this shameful display!”

A cold silence fell upon the assembly, his words having completely seized the whole crowd’s attention. The mare stared in shock, her body shaking and barely restraining another sob.

“Nephew,” Princess Celestia said slowly. “Do not intervene outside of your boundaries like this again.”

Her tone had been carefully measured, but Blueblood had to fight the urge to shiver. Submissive, he bowed and vowed to remain silent as long as she deemed it right.

“Now, please, do not let this affect you, my little pony.” The goddess of the sun gave a warm smile to the poor mare.
She managed to describe it all, as some noticed, her hesitations were always followed by a quick glance at the unicorn prince, then at Princess Celestia. For better or for worse, Blueblood’s intervention had given her the strength to give the details of her story.

From the audiences, the nobles had deduced a common trait: many if not most of the missing ponies had vanished in the regions nearest to the griffon territory. Frankly, few pegasi nobles were surprised, while the others seemed rightfully bothered by this turn of event.

Was this a conspiracy, by the claws of the King of the griffons himself? If so, this would mean war.

Many brows were lowered in displeasure at the thought. The prospect of war, waiting at their doorsteps was unsettling, leaving them with a vague nausea.

Blueblood was immune to such lowly concerns of course. He would attribute it to his greater self-control, if asked, even if the truth lied elsewhere. By virtue of his status, he was too precious to send anywhere near a battlefield. The only danger he might face would be if Equestria lost and that was simply impossible, not with his aunts on their side.

…Prince Tonitrus would not step in… he never did.

The rest of the day remained meaningless, as nobles of Blueblood’s status reveled in idle nonsense. Of course, he had his duties and performed them without fail. Ponies of lower status never assumed much of the royal prince, if only because of the journalists’ apparent affection for his nightly escapades.

As the sun went down and the moon came out, the white stallion surprisingly decided to head to bed early. The return of his other aunt had put a dent in his self-serving habits. He knew she was not fond of him – of few ponies truly – and it bothered him a great deal. The night was a little colder than before and it seemed as if the darkness had lost its ability to keep secrets.

Sometimes he needed a drink, like yesterday. It helped, for a few hours, he had let go of this and had enjoyed a moment of frivolous festivities. Morning had come brutally and the Princess of the Night had been less than enthusiastic about his presence…

But he had been perfectly respectful toward her. It would never cross his mind to go against her in any way. She was the goddess of the moon and one of his ancestors. Less than perfect courtesy toward her would have gone too strongly against his beliefs!

Yet Princess Luna had eyed him with hidden conceit and disgust. Today, during court, the unicorn swore Princess Celestia had been inches from giving the very same look. And after he had spoken on her behalf to! It baffled him.

He dismissed the maids as soon as they had finished cleaning up. He wished for a dreamless night.