Chapter 4: For Want of a Nail

“Inactivity is death.”-Benito Mussolini

        November 12, 1826 Anno Domini

        A flickering red flame lit from a wax candle was the sole source of light in the dark enclosure, save the few beams of precious sunlight that snuck in past the crevices in the wooden structure. Twilight nodded to herself as she studied the text, her magical abilities letting her flip through the pages of the booklet. All was peaceful for her, until a pounding knock at the door ripped through Twilight’s ears, causing the book levitating in front of her to fall down on the hard and hay-covered floor. “Charles, is that you?” she said, all the while moving the book back into place on the shelf with her magic.

        “The very same.” the familiar yet certainly older voice called out.

        Realizing that the cozy brown place she now inhabited was still in a mess that was usual for one who had no time for such things as cleaning, with the sheets spread over the floor, hay in every corner and in her hair, and with a few books spread out on the her lone desk. Ever since it was suggested by one of the staff that Twilight was too big now for Charles’ room to hold her properly, she moved on her own insistence to a decently-sized previously empty stable on the palace grounds. Despite Charles’ own resistance to this idea, he conceded over time, mainly by her telling him she was fine with it. She couldn’t be selfish and just expect him to lend his room to her forever, right?

Even so, he did demand it was well stocked, and it was. He and de Foresti practically stole several pillows and sheets for her, and spent a good day smuggling items and furniture out into it. Even Count Mortiz lent her an old and unused bookshelf, telling her it was a ‘strictly confidential arrangement’. Even if they were hired to watch over them when teaching, Twilight could still appreciate the niceties the two gave them both.

“Just a second!” she shouted worriedly back to him, hurrying to spruce the place up.

        As she hurriedly attempted to use her magic to move the books, blowing the candle out, cleaning the hay and whatnot, the door creaked open by a small margin, an inquisitive brown eye peeking to see what lay in the room. Seeing the purple mare try and tidy up the place in such a rushed manner made him smile in the way that only she could, and that was at all. Sliding it open further, thankful that no large amount of noise was made, he snuck into the room as a sneaking shadow.

As a bonus, the relatively small space of the room ensured that he was close enough to Twilight, so as to proceed with his plans in no time at all. The fact that the mare was currently looking in the direction opposite him only enhanced his potential merriment. Slinking his way up to her by just a bit, so close now that he was right behind her flanks, he tapped her pointedly with a gloved finger right on the cutie mark, jumping backward right afterwards in order to stay clear of the results.

        The ensuing large jump up into the air the mare did was quite impressive indeed, and so was the almost jubilant laughter that came out from Charles as a result. After she had landed, during which time a few of the floating books fell and her mane got even more out of place, Twilight shot him a dirty look. “I thought I said to wait.” she said, blowing a few loose strands of her mane out of her face.

        He shrugged, uncaring, even with the fact that Twilight now towered over him by a few inches. Considering he was extremely tall himself now, at 6ft in fact, this was no small feat indeed. Though while Twilight was average sized for her age and species, Charles was practically a giant. “I believe you said to wait a second, and that was what I did. All a matter of proper phrasing.” he smirked playfully.

        Despite her irked status at this venture of mischief, Twilight smirk backed at him. “Fine, but just remember, I’ll get back at you for that.”

        “Why of course mein liebchen, what more could I expect from someone as devious as you?” he continued, his smirk growing just slightly more friendly.

        “Nothing at all,” she remarked, before casting a sullen look over her small apartment of sort, “so what are you here for?”

        He sighed in evident annoyance, crinkling his brows. “What, you don’t remember?”

        Well this was awkward for her. “Um, well actually...” she was at a sudden loss for words.

        That was evidence enough to him. Rubbing the bridge of his nose with thin-gloved fingers, he sighed once more. While Twilight was ingenious beyond compare, her ability to keep up with events was unbecoming of her, to say the least. “Antoine is taking us to a play, and afterwards on a sort of tour of the city.” he explained patiently.

        ‘Oh yes, that’s right!’ it came to her with a sudden realization. Antoine, that stocky stallion major they had met a couple of years ago, had communicated with them that he had purchased some tickets for a popular play that was coming to Wien, and invited them to come along. It made the mare amazed at how much things had changed in the last couple of years. Charles and Antoine had kept in contact over letters, forming a strong bond that astonished her in the haste it built up. Charles spoke fondly of Antoine whenever the topic of the major came up, even if he drew into conflict with him at times.

Twilight supposed it was due to Antoine’s knowledge, however impersonal, of the young man’s father, a fact Charles eagerly shared with her when Antoine wrote back of scant details, not daring to write more from fear of reprisal from the ‘Eisernen Kanzler’. To her great sadness, de Foresti had left their company a year ago to a promotion to a position of some importance in Venezia, according to his own words, and due to worries over Count Mortiz’s growing age-related illnesses, a position had opened up to their tutor.

        On Charles’ own insistence, Antoine had contacted Metternich by letter to request a position as their tutor. For reasons Twilight did not understand in the least, Metternich accepted, and Antoine had practically moved to Wien afterwards. The two had formed a quick friendship with the stallion, who proved charming and knowledgeable enough to keep them on their wits. Twilight did still write letters to de Foresti nearly every month, detailing her recent experiments and experiences with the feisty Italian. She encouraged Charles to do so as well, though he gave her a half-hearted compliant ‘yes’ in response. It saddened her to see him so distant from people, but she wrote to de Foresti that Charles missed him as well. She was sure of it, even if he didn’t admit it!

        Mortiz, who still kept residence here yet met with them less, was still a virulent rant of complaints and grouchy speech of which she referred to as ‘old man talk’. His hair was grayer, thinner, and the creases of age appeared all over his face, but he had the same countenance nonetheless. The Count was almost vitriolic at times, but he had a good heart she knew. He took great care to ensure they learnt well, and he always met with Twilight on his free days. She enjoyed the conversations that ensued often, him detailing some of his old days in training with a nostalgic expression that would be well-suited to any old tale.

        And than there was Charles’ new friend, Sophie. From what she knew she was a Princess of some sorts, and as of late an in-law of Charles, and they seemed to get along well. In fact, he often devoted a visit to her residence near the palace, ones from which he usually came back quite pleased with himself. While some would be envious of the time he spent with others, Twilight was happy that he was spending time with other people. She was not jealous or anything petty like that, and from what she heard of her she liked Sophie.

Though Charles was rather against the idea of them meeting, always insisting their meetings be private for some reason and never telling her Sophie’s place of address and absolutely refusing to budge on the issue. While she could press him on the issue, she would rather he relent on his own terms. They had begun sharing each others secrets and lives before meeting more and more since the party two years ago, and she would not pressure him on such a thing unless he felt comfortable in doing so. It was no bother to her really what his issue was, and if he wanted to keep it locked up, so be it.

        “Twilight...” Charles spoke suddenly cutting in to her idle thought.

        She shook her head, clearing away the clutter in her mind. “Yes, I remember. We’re going now, then?”

        “Right away. If you would be so kind, madame.” he moved out of the way, motioning towards the door with a gentlemanly wave and bow.

        Twilight shook her head again at his needless courtesy towards her, Twilight exited, her eyes squinting just slightly under the still blazing sun that had just risen over the horizon. Sure, winter was just beginning, but it was in it’s infancy at best. At the very most their was a thin sheet of snow covering most everything, but nothing too thick yet. “Do you know the way to the theater?” she asked him.

        She heard a haughty grunt from behind her. “I know the general area.” he attempted to reassure her, failing to do so.

        Though she rolled her eyes at his oblique answer, Twilight couldn’t exactly blame him. They had both spent so little time outside the palace, only being allowed to see the core of the city, the richly made buildings and architecture that dominated the imperial capital. Always under guard, with several men of fine uniform keeping their watchful eyes on them at all times. Twilight would’ve gone mad, if Charles did not comment that this was actually an improvement from before. The very thought of it being more restrictive silenced any protest Twilight might have built up. Still, that did not mean she could not point his shadowy response out. “Tu as eu les yeux plus gros que le ventre, Charles. But you can’t really back up your claims, can you?” she dared with a playful grin.

        A budding smile crept up his face at her words, her glorious words in that language he loved so, bringing him the type of smile only that she could bring to him. But it quickly disappeared in an instant, his own pride and desire to prove himself right shining outward. “Antoine will most likely meet us in the general area anyway. I would not worry in the least for now, ma petite pouliche.” he attempted to reassure her, causing her to roll her eyes at the nickname she had managed to understand since their lessons in French began.

 Instead a displeased hum sounded out as Charles circled around her, giving them both a good look of the other in the sun at last, instead of the shadowy hovel Twilight inhabited. He was truly a giant now, she realized, almost painfully towering over both de Foresti and Mortiz when they last met. It was a sudden growth, one that had accelerated in the past few months, but even so it made him more striking than he already was. But his high cheeks, the tight-angled chin, his piercing brown eyes, the still curly dirty blond hair. Those were all the same.

The outfit he wore now though was recent acquisition, one he took great pride in. It was the tunic of the Tyrolian Chasseurs, its color so dark it was almost as if it was the color of the sky itself, without Luna’s moon to give it some semblance of color.  He had received it only a few months back, in fact it was a uniform for a lieutenant in the Chasseurs, yet he did not receive a promotion to such a rank along with it. This was a cause of great concern and displeasure from the prince, especially in his darker moods.

Not that these moods were ever directed towards Twilight, she knew he would not do such despicable acts towards her in the least, yet he took his anger out on servants at times, after which she chided him in a voice reminiscent of the fragments she had of Princess Celestia’s own. He ignored her though, or gave her half-hearted apologies before turning back to whatever he was doing before. His mood took dark turns at times, sometimes angry, sometimes depressingly sullen in nature, yet he usually had good days of contentment wherein he acted normal, for him at least.

But most visibly to the mare, even more visible than the not-black color of the uniform, was his reaction to the uniform and rank increase. His joy upon receiving it was a joy he had rarely shown outside of conversations with her. His elation, while not shown in great amounts externally, was shown in the smaller niches oh his routine that she had noticed, whether it be a lighter step to his walk, or a prouder bearing when posing. To Twilight he simply illuminated with joy for a while now. If this told Twilight anything, it was the further evidence as to how much his passions in the art of war had meant to him. Truly, he was a military man through and through. When she felt particularly daring, she would wonder if it was in his very blood to study and feel the need to get as close to the military as possible, but always she would brush away those thoughts and consider them only idle nonsense.

Not all these changes were positive however. Not in the least. The most frightening addition to his body was one that was slow, yet blatant in its presentation, at least to her, who kept in good contact with him regularly. In the past few months, Twilight noticed the growing pallor in his skin almost immediately, a disturbing trend she had noticed over the last couple of years. He looked almost as if he was a ghost, such was the extent of his now milky white complexion.

The tired lines on his face and the slightly ragged sound of his breathing did not escape her notice at all. The worst part of it though was that it was a constant ill, one that had pursued him on and off since the night at the party. A rare occurrence, but an occurrence nonetheless, would have him gain sudden chills and a fever so intense that he would be out for a few days in some weakness of some sorts, always at his great displeasure at being weakened so. She voiced her worries over the state of his health whenever she could, asking him to visit a doctor or anyone that could help, but he insisted that it was a temporary thing. That was his response nearly every week since two years passed.

        The knowledge that he would ignore her did not deter Twilight in the least. Even if it was futile, giving up on him would gnaw at her heart, as the very thought of... it happening was almost too morbid for her to bear. “Are you sure you’re up to it today though? I mean, you look a little unwell...”

        ‘Like you always look as of late’ were the unspoken words that were pretty much said nonetheless. Saying he looked cross at her insinuation was an understatement, as his breathing became faster, his eyes darkening while his mouth formed a dark line that held in any shouts of refusal he could have thrown back at her. She was almost worried that he would go into a great rage any moment now, such was the fury on his features, but instead he breathed deeper, closing his eyes sullenly. “I am fine.” was his simple response.

        There was no further continuation. She had tried, and if he would be the fool... so be it. Besides, perhaps it was just a minor illness, one that only hounded him for a while but even so was minor in its potential for harm. The thought calmed her by only a little, if that. Even so, they had descended into one of those unpleasant silences where they both only sent minor glances towards the other as they tried desperately to ignore the current problem at hand. “Do you think I need a dress?” she spoke suddenly, trying to shift the focus on some more boring but less dreadful.

        Charles’ annoyance was transfigured into an offended frown. “No, it’s not formal in the least. Besides, you look fine as you are.” he stated with an almost bored tone.

        Trying hard not to laugh at that, she smiled vividly back at him. “Flattery will get you nowhere mon ami. Stop with the jokes.”.

        “It is not a joke in the least. In the years I have known you, I swear to God you must have become more and more beautiful each year. Where most are soiled at this age, you are a blossoming flower of beauty.” he spoke with all the assurance in the world.

        Twilight had no idea how to respond for a moment, until she laughed nervously back at him. Sure, she had grown taller than him by a just amount, her frame was lean for her race, and her mane had grown a tad longer and smoother, she knew she was no apex of beauty by any species standards. It was a fact she had assured herself of since fillyhood. “Your sense of humor has grown well indeed Charles, but you can cut it with me, okay?”

        “Ah, but it is not a joke in the least,” he countered, smirking now at her befuddled expression, “Trust me, you look perfect. You have something those other mares or even the human girls don’t. Intelligence, wit, a fact which sends you miles above them in my own eyes.”

He took a deep breath, almost regretting the words he said as they left his mouth. “Why, on occasion I play with the thought of taking up the art of painting in order to be capable of capturing an image of your greatness. This would be the eternal proof of this my poor, most likely lackluster attempt of capturing your excellence. Future generations might look upon the painting, wondering why this specific pink was used for your mane, or why the artist made you smile ever so slightly. Oh, what magnificence it would be. Alas, despite the inspiration you give me, it will never happen, for I am sure that I would be a complete buffoon when it came to capturing more than a circle or triangle. Oh, the joy I felt on the first day we met, the hope you give me constantly, wasted so.” He spread his arms dramatically, a smirk on his face, knowing just how ridiculous this little speech must sound. “What a shame that the world will never have such a treasure, this most splendid portrait of one of the, if not the greatest ponies to ever grace this nation. What a shame.”

        He sighed once, ending his speech suddenly, before coughing once into his hand. Twilight did not catch this though, as she was absolutely floored by what he just said. His honesty was clear to her, that much she could be assured of, but his own apparent belief in what he said was what astounded her. Still trying to sort this out mess of emotions in her dazzled mind, she simply responded “That’s... nice?” in a manner befitting one who had no idea whether to be insulted or very, very pleased at what was just shared with her.

        Shrugging his shoulders, Charles sounded off an affirmative hum. “I admit I can be overly dramatic at times, more akin to a playschool actor than an honest confession directed towards thee, but I do hope you appreciate the kind words.” he told her honestly.

        Nodding, she brushed one of her forehooves against the cobblestone floor, feeling the general roughness of the stone but not much else due to the lack of nerves in that region of her body. “Well, we should probably go now.” she muttered softly, finding the individual stones beneath her hooves strangely fascinating at the moment.

        Charles was nothing if not keen to her moods, and nodded in assent. “Good. Now, if you would?” he turned, motioning towards the exit way.

        As she cantered and he sauntered towards the exit with only a vague idea of where they were going at best, they proceeded into the greater part of the city of Wien. Large crowds of people, pony and human, came into view, and within a moment they were in the middle of the mess of bodies, in all sorts shapes, sizes, and stripes. They stayed close together in the cluttered environment, memories of their unfortunate expedition two years back still fresh in their minds.

        Even though they had been outside the palace and into the city itself a few times by now, Twilight still loved every second she was out here. The sound of vendors hawking their merchandise with toothy smiles, roaming bands of small performers doing fantastic displays of acrobatics to large crowds, and the people, oh the people! It was a melting pot of culture at the very least. Sure, all the humans had the same skin color, seeing as far as Twilight knew humans were all Caucasian, but she did not fall into bias because of that. She could see the various differences they all had, some had moustaches, some had great hats that looked as if they would topple over, and everyone enjoyed distinct if similar styles of clothing.

        And than there were the ponies. From what she had read up, the populations of ponies to humans were leaned towards the latter’s majority, and even the ponies consisted mainly of earth ponies. But she could barely tell from the conflagrant mixture of colors and cutie marks that were spread liberally throughout the epicenter of town. Red, yellow, green, brown, manes and coats of all colors and sizes were there, and cutie marks of all sorts of things that indicated their talents were visible to all that were curious. Though they were uncommon, she even saw a few unicorns, some in the troupes of players and performers, levitating small objects to the bedazzlement of the amazed eyes that watched them. While to Twilight it was foal’s play at best, it was still nice to see fellow users of magic here, however small.

        A blazing burst of speed from above them drew their eyes and numerous others to the skies above. Twilight and Charles’ eyes widened at the sight, that was heretofore unknown to both of them save now distant memories on Twilight's part. It was a lone Pegasus, performing a magnificent blitz through the sky, doing a sort of aerial acrobatic maneuver that left all the deficient ground-walkers below only the option of looking up at the winged pony with amazement beyond all compare. No one could get a good eye for the Pegasus, but even so they could tell by the way it almost danced through the November air that it was a skilled flyer indeed.

        The Pegasus flew higher and higher, almost reaching the edge of the clouds themselves. Everyone below, both man and pony, drew a collective gasp as it grew in height. And at last, when it looked as if it could go no farther, the Pegasus dropped down like a ton of steel, falling and falling at ever increasing speeds, twisting and twirling rapidly in its descent. Someone cried out ‘Help her!’ when she looked as if she would land right on the cold, hard streets themselves, when at last an amazing feat occurred. The Pegasus did a complete 180 degree turn, speeding upward when it looks as if it had no hope left. Nobody was left unfazed by the daring maneuver, Twilight practically beaming with delight, even Charles had a pleased grin.

        “Oh that one, always a show-off.”

        The two turned to see Antoine at their side, appearing as if out of nowhere from the vast hordes around them. Both glanced at him out of the corners of their eyes, still wanting to much as possible of the dashing Pegasus above them, who proceeded to do a smooth loop-de-loop to the joy of the crowd below. “You know him?” Charles questioned.

        Antoine laughed jauntily, rising on his hindhooves  for a moment out of his mirth. After falling to the floor with a large clip-clop of his hooves, the bulky earth pony replied “I don’t know him. I know her though. I served a good few years in the field with Franciska. She nearly flew across the whole of the Alps from North to South once. Had to call it off when her wings nearly froze in mid-air, but she still managed to make a perfect landing near Klagenfurt with ease.”

The colt sighed deliberately as the nostalgia overwhelmed him, Charles’ eyes focused fully on him now. “During the war?” he entreated slowly.

        “Ah yes, when else? Flew reconnaissance over Bavaria and Leipzig. One of the few Pegasi to sign up, God bless her. Let me tell you boy, I swear to God the Hungarian mares were as ferocious on the field as they were in bed, Franciska especially! That just made the after battle celebrations all the more worthwhile though. And the other celebrations as well.” the colt boasted.

        Twilight’s brain froze at the startling and frank innuendo of his words, her cheeks blushing a tomato red involuntarily. To say she was unfamiliar with such concepts was very harsh on her, books and a hasty and not at all fun conversation with Count Mortiz on her fourteenth birthday having filled her in on the more gruesome aspects of the procedure involved in those types of things. But since this was the time period when the best material on the subject are rather uninformative in the absolute kindest of words, and seeing as Mortiz is a paranoid old man with little to no experience at all in explaining ‘those’ concepts to teens, it did not help. At all. Thus ensuring that she would stay as far, far away from such practices.

        Charles’ reaction was more along the lines of amusement though. “I would not or would not want to know that experience personally, but by the war, you mean the Great War? What was it like?” he continued, getting serious now.

        Antoine stayed silent, his mind wracking at trying to find the right words to answer him. He wanted to tell the boy more about his father, but he was under explicit orders not to, and he himself was unsure if Charles was at all ready to learn more about his legacy. He was still young despite his attempts to prove otherwise, and Antoine was worried about his reaction or the effect on Charles’ behavior if he wasn’t careful. The teen had attempted ever since they started tutoring to learn more about his father, and he answered with veiled responses that gave the boy a hint and nothing more of the answer he desired. “It was a war, and it was rather great.” he answered in a deadpan tone.

        The former Prince Imperials near epileptic response left Antoine nearly shaking in delightful schadenfreude. When he had calmed down at last, and Twilight had at least escaped the embarrassed state she was in, he spoke more. “Though I’ve believed we’ve dilly-dallied enough. Now that dearest Franciska is gone, I’m afraid we’ve no choice but to head towards what will most assuredly be a boring and dreadful experience~.” he said in a sing-song voice.

        “You’re really making me feel good about this Major.” Twilight said, finding strength in sarcasm.

        “Oh, I would want nothing less from my two shining stars! Ah, the day I received you two was a fine day indeed for me. Such starling young minds, so innocent and flexible in work and thought!” the colts grin was absolutely devilish by this point.

        Shaking his head with a tired acceptance, Charles concealed his amusement with ease. ‘Innocent indeed,’ he bemusedly thought. As much as he hated to admit it, he really did like the colt a lot. The very fact that he was a war veteran of the days of his father heightened his excitement further. Add to that his status as pretty much the only pony in the Austrian officer corps he knew of only added to his fascination. Antoine had stirred his curiosity, and drew him towards his presence and knowledge more so. The fact that he was a damn good teacher only added to his glowering appraisement of the colt.

        But that did not mean he would put up with such nonsensical distractions. Coughing purposely loud into his hand, he directed the two ponies attention towards him, Twilight’s with a fearful haste. “Pardon my interruptions good sir Antoine, but shouldn’t you play the part of the gentleman and lead us ‘young, innocent minds’ towards the place where we shall take our entertainment?” he said in a direct mockery of Antoine’s earlier tone.

        Antoine’s amusement at Charles countering him was evident, and it made him like the student more. From what he had read up he was almost cut off from all the world, a cold ghost that only haunted the hallways of the palace with his presence and lineage. But he did not see that in the least. Antoine instead saw a fine young man, with a rapacious wit and a keen mind that hungered for all that was available to be learnt.

Twilight was much the same, though more reserved in nature, but this was made up for by her gracious behavior. While Charles was not rude in the least, she spoke with a more direct politeness. Alas, those traits were nothing compared with their humor... when they could find it at least. “Oh of course Prinz Franz, after all you did accept my invitation. E tu, Twilight, you wish to go right?” Antoine replied, switching his focus to Twilight within an instant.

        Twilight’s ears tucked down at his bilingual display. “You know Italian?” she asked, interested for an entirely different reason now.

        “A bit. Learned a bit of it when serving in Lombardia. You know of it though?” he asked, cocking an eyebrow at her.

        “I’m decent.” she answered truthfully.

        Though de Foresti’s Italian lessons imparted well on the two, they rarely used the language outside of random conversation, and even than only to keep it fresh in their minds. The language, while a nice thing to know, did not particularly interest her, it being the worst of the Latin languages to her, with her only desiring to learn it in the first place due to Charles learning it when she arrived. When she informed Charles of those feelings once, he had smirked, saying something about irony before refusing to comment further.

        “Sehr gut. An excellent thing it is to be multilingual, especially in this land of peoples diverse as can be.” Antoine remarked.

        “Ahem.” Charles coughed once more, causing Twilight to cast wary and worried eyes on him behind his back.

        “Ah yes, forgive me. The theater is near the center of the city, just follow me.”

        Thankful that they were finally getting somewhere, the two followed right behind him as he trotted through the crowd, who parted easily in the presence of the uniformed colt. Mercifully, they all proceeded through the crowded city with only minor interruptions, whether it be due to Antoine’s majorly uniform and stiff stance, Charles’ royal bearing, or Twilight’s exotic coloring, they got through. “So just where is it that we’re going Antoine?” Twilight asked as they passed another street.

        “The Theater in der Josefstadt,” Antoine answered with a practiced smoothness, “It’s an old place, one of the oldest theaters in all of Wien in fact. I know the current owner, J. von Scheidlin he’s called, and he arranged this when he heard a member of the royal family would be visiting. Lucky folks you two are.”

        Twilight nodded at the response, grateful to know more, while Charles rubbed his chin thoughtfully. ‘Being a royal from the most prestigious family in Europe sure does have its advantages,’ he judged with only a minute hint of sarcasm in his mind. No other words were spoken then as they walked farther. Deciding to fulfill one of his more minor curiosities, Charles took a look at Antoine’s cutie mark, seeing as he had little else to do and he had only seen glimpses of it up till now.

        The Hapsburg coat of arms, specifically his grandfathers, the symbol of the ruling family of the Kaisertum Österreich. It was a common feature for ponies that decided to serve mainly in the Reich, or some other symbol of military adventurism. He had to admit, it was an excellent mark. Serving one’s nation always seemed as one of the most noble of goals to Charles, and Antoine served well, it seemed. Though he was baffled as to why Twilight shivered coldly when she saw a coat of arms cutie mark of any kind. It was an almost phobic reaction. He’d have to ask her sometime.

        Suddenly they stopped in front of a building. “We’re here.” Antoine told the the two.

        It was a gigantic white building, made of fine looking sturdy materials, with rows of windows in the front, and a large portion of it jutting out from the rest of it. A decently sized entrance on the side of that portion was where a large door rested, where numerous well-dressed humans in tuxedos and furs and all sorts of in-style fashions went in. “Just follow me meine kleinen Fische, wouldn’t want you two getting lost or anything, and the blame falling on my head...” he said with a crooked smile that they could practically feel.

        Both Twilight and Charles rolled at their eyes at his display. Antoine trotted forward, the crowd opening up to him as if they were the Red Sea before his presence, murmuring amongst themselves at his sight. While only a few scattered whispers were directed towards the purple mare that followed behind him, the last member of their group, that scion of two very famous families, who struck a pose, the same one he always took as of late with one arm in his jacket, a pose that came to him almost naturally. Despite it’s lack of severe intentions, the very sight of it brought back dark memories to the crowd, dark memories of a time when a young Corsican man nearly brought down the entirety of their familiar and traditional world order.

To these men and women, who had only just left the war that centered around that same man over ten years ago, their memories were as fresh as can be. And they, who knew at least the bare details of this teens lineage, began to darken the tone of their gossip. Charles paid them no heed, as if he would to begin with, the prince intent simply on watching this damned play as a chance to get out into the city life, even with his detest of actually meeting new people. Twilight was a little bit more observant though, she always had sharp ears, being a pony and all, and the few things she caught were... displeasing. She kept her acid-laced words hidden for now though, they were here to watch a play, not start a scene. Yet at least.

The walk in the theater hallways  itself was pleasanter than the way in, with few distracting guests hurrying about, a few stage hands and assistants popping up now and then. Within a few moments after getting in though, they were ambushed by a mousy, thin-faced human with thick-rimmed dusty glasses, and an even dustier brown trench coat. “Antoine, mein Freund, guten Tag. Wie geht’s dir?” the mousy man greeted.

“Ausgezeichnet Herr Scheidlin. Meine Fische hier sind sehr gelangweilt. You have a spot for us, correct?” Antoine greeted in turn, heading straight to business.

“Ah yes, yes. Good thing you’ve come when you did, some foul hebrew was attempting to get his way in here. If you didn’t arrive when you did, I would’ve had to give up a fine spot to such a dastardly Christ-killer.”

Antoine shuddered at the thought. “Good indeed. The very concept of it would make me ill any other day, and nigh fatally stricken when a Prinz von Österreich and his most illustrious friend is here to view your most fine offerings here.”

“Oh correct. Now, just follow me than, and I’ll take you to your booth.”

“Um, excuse me sir...” Twilight’s voice rang out.

Scheidlin stopped his planned movement, looking at the purple mare quizzically. “Yes Fraulein?” he asked with a small sniffle.

Twilight gathered her resolve, preparing to voice her complaints. “But, why did you not want to give that seat up to that guy?”

Antoine and Scheidlin gave her a ‘huh?’ look, while Charles felt the urgent desire to sweat from behind her, as the awkwardness of this situation was fully clear to him. Scheidlin gave her a dirty look, that when combined with his dusty glasses made him look more hilarious than anything. “Well what do you mean child? He’s a Jew, why would I give up good seats to filthy rats such as them? He would insist of course that he was a decent citizen, but I knew better, I knew better all right! By the time I had him thrown out, he was pleading like a struck lamb that he served in the war, that he loved his country, but as I said, I knew better!” the keeper of the theater barked at her.

Twilight was ready to give the man a peace of her mind, until Antoine stepped in. “Forgive her mein Freund, she’s ignorant of the land and our customs you see. Do not feel mad at her for her lack of knowledge, blame me instead.” he spoke, stopping this before it got any further.

Now he was the focus of both Twilight and Scheidlin’s glares. The earth pony grinned nervously, backing up ever so slightly. “She’s from ‘Equestria’ mein Lieber. Remember, she’s the one I talked about a few times?” Antoine desperately continued.

 Scheidlin’s eyes crinkled at that, and he sighed suddenly. “Ah yes, I remember now. Poor dear indeed. With her lack of a proper upbringing, it is no wonder she says such foolish things. Forgive me my dear, my apologies.” he said half-heartedly, before turning his back on her.

There were a few things that Twilight hated so much as the implication, or in this case blatant statement, that her homeland was false, or a place where none dared inhabited. Antoine only got out of her sights for that due to his status as a teacher, since she always respected her teachers. But this mousy, irritable human who was rude enough to presume on her, without giving her a chance to defend herself? Oh no, oh no.

Twilight was about to bust a nerve at that ‘apology’ alone, ready to serve a heaping pile of magically raised objects the directors way, until the pleading eyes of Antoine stopped her just barely. He mouthed ‘Es tut mir leid’ her way, which placated her, and gave her enough of a cool head back to realize just what the consequences of doing such acts to a physically infirm man might do to her life and her conscience. That still didn’t mean she could not simply stick her tongue out at the old sod behind his back though, which she did with great gusto. Charles simply tapped his foot impatiently throughout the whole exchange, only thankful it did not escalate into something which would delay his schedule further.

Scheidlin hobbled forward, leading them further. All throughout their talk, Twilight had a worried and puzzled look on her muzzle. Waiting until Charles was at her side once more, Twilight leaned over to him without warning, his eyes widening as he felt the warm breath from her muzzle suddenly strike his ear. “Charles, just what were they talking about, with Jews and stuff? Why did he throw that guy out for being ‘Jewish’, whatever that is?” she asked, feeling the answer would not at all be pleasant for some reason.

Charles stiffened suddenly, gulping suddenly as his footsteps became noticeably harder against the wooden floor. “Twilight, it’s rather complex.”

“How complex can it be if they’re just insulting some man? They sounded like they were insulting him based on who he is, and that’s terrible!” speaking with a clear anger now, her rising voice drawing the attention of some around her, but thankfully not Antoine and his companion.

Debating just how in the world he was supposed to explain this, the young prince answered her the best he could. “Basically, Jews are a certain... group of people. They are not well-liked by most people in this country, since it mostly is Catholic.”

Twilight suddenly felt very embarrassed, mainly because she had heard of the word before, but had no idea how it related to the current context. “What’s that have to do with anything?” she said with a slight blush.

He groaned, feeling a headache come on. This would not be a kind day to him, not in the least. As thankful as he was earlier that this discussion had not arisen until now, he knew it would come up sooner or later. The problem was he preferred later over sooner. Much later. “Look, I promise to explain further as soon as we get back home, but until then please for the love of God don’t incite him any further!” he said in hushed tones.

Nearly biting on her tongue, Twilight sighed. “Fine, I’ll appease you for now,” she said in a thankfully lower voice, “But answers. Later!”

“I would not think anything else mein Liebchen.” His headache lessened, if only by the tiniest bit.

The remainder of their walk up to the booth was a trek that while quiet, was fraught with tension beyond belief. Twilight seemed noticeably moody, casting hot looks at the back of Scheidlin’s head that were so fierce in their intensity the man had to take a look behind him just to see the source of rapidly growing discomfort. Seeing only an all too innocent purple mare did not lessen it in the least. Tensions were running high, and neither Antoine nor Charles wanted a slaughter in the middle of a public venue.

Charles was playing the part of mediator with Twilight, attempting to point out some of the more interesting pieces of art or some decently important person they came across, but she held as little interest in such nonsense as he did. ‘Another point to add in her favor,’ he supposed. Antoine kept Scheidlin at bay, eager as Charles to prevent a full-scale war from occurring right within these halls.

Within around five minutes, they reached the booth after climbing a small set of stairs. It was a precariously located resting point, offering a clear view of the titantic stage that dominated the room beyond it, with an equally clear look at the dozens of already filled up chairs below them.  “Here it is than Antoine. Hope you and the Prinz enjoy it.” Scheidlin smiled, blatantly ignoring Twilight’s presence.

“Yes. Well until we meet again, Scheidlin. Guten Abend noch.” Antoine bid him farewell.

Scheidlin did so in return, casting a deep and respectful bow to Charles, that the prince did not at all return in any sort of respect, before leaving. Not without a painfully loud grunt when he passed Twilight though. Twilight was suddenly thankful her lessons in patience from long ago included breathing tactics, as they served a very good purpose in keeping herself from playing some very mean-spirited tricks on the old bat. “Well, might as well tuck in until the play starts. Shouldn’t be more then a few more minutes in fact.” Antoine noted.

Charles hummed lowly, a sound that combined with Twilight’s recent annoyance nearly split her eardrums in twain. “Just what are we watching?” the prince asked.

“Oh, something from England I think. Richard III it was called.”

Annoyance crept into Charles at the mention of that most hated nation. “How quaint.” he said with a hint of iron.

“Right oh lad,” Antoine replied, oblivious to his status, “But now that that business is taken care of, let’s have a nice sit down now, shall we?”

Twilight and Charles eyed the seating arrangements. A few bolted in chairs. Not really the size for a fully grown pony. “Antoine, I believe you might have been mistaken as to our seats.” Twilight deadpanned.

“Oh this’ll be fine. We’ll just sit on our haunches or just stand up, nothing too miserable. Prinz Franz here can meanwhile take a nice seat, and take a gander at the ladies while we’re waiting.” the major said with a deliberate husky voice.

Debating whether to pound her head against the railing or not, Twilight sighed sullenly. “Fine, I’ll just stand.”

“I’ll stand as well. Or lean, in any case.” Charles assuaged them by leaning on the wall to their backs, due to feeling a bit guilty about leaving them standing like this.

“Hmm, fine. Wait, I think it’s starting!” Antoine said, pointing a hoof towards the stage.

At first a horde of well-dressed men in fine black suits with white undershirts stepped out of the sides of the the stage. Once out they took their places in a the lowered portion of the stage filled with various shining instruments and seats. “Oh, it’s just the musicians getting ready.” the major said, disgruntled.

The two teens shook their heads at this boring display, until the last musician appeared from beyond the stage, bringing both their attention to an apex. “Who is that?” Twilight said, leaning forward a bit to get a better view.

A gray mare with a pink bow-tie and an ever darker gray mane trotted out last, keeping a dignified poise as she took her place near a cello with the rest of the musicians. Her cutie mark was a pink treble clef, indicating her purpose there more than any words could. Intrigued whispers and queries over just who this mare was were so thick the three could hear it from their raised position above. ‘Surely she wasn’t going to do what it looked like she was doing?’ and other gossip was said as she took her place.

The gray mare put a hoof around the cello, before taking her free forehoof and grasping a large bow on a stool next to her with the space between her hooves. Everyone grew excited and bewildered now at just what this mare was doing, not the least of which were our protagonists up above. “She’s not trying to actually play a musical instrument with hooves now, is she?” Twilight inquired, echoing the general consensus of the crowd.

Antoine squinted, trying to get a better look. When he caught sight of the gray mare fully, he smirked instantaneously. “Oh dear, if she is who I think she is, I believe so.”

“Who is she?” Charles asked, getting interested now.

Antoine put a hoof to his muzzle, filing through his memories until he received the right information. “That, mein freund, is Octavia de Claro. One of the very, very few non-unicorn musicians to ever grace ponykind. She can move her hooves in ways most mares and colts can only dream, and can teach her human compatriots a thing or two at times as well. Strange, I thought she was from France though...”

Both of them were astonished at that news. A pony, capable of playing a very complex instrument, with only their hooves? Such a thing was unknown even to Twilight. The two of them were now and truly interested in what was going on below, though for very different reasons than the play that was set to stage. Charles was especially interested in a smaller tidbit of info that Antoine revealed. “She’s French you say?”

“Oh yes. From Lyon I believe. Though she must be here on some sort of tour of the continent I suppose. Even so, she stands out greatly compared to the rest of the musicians, and the patrons in general. In certain other areas as well.” he added lecherously.

The majors words, save that awful last sentence, were evidently true, as the only other musicians were the black suited humans, Octavia standing out like a diamond in the rough. In fact she, Antoine, and Twilight were the only ponies there, something that stuck out painfully to Twilight. “Interesting.” Charles murmured, putting his arms on the railing, content to just watch up close now.

Within a few minutes the stage darkened suddenly, as shadowy figures appeared on it, moving props and whatnot. Music blared out, the dull tap of the conductors signal rod starting a cavalcade of lively and foreboding music. The blast of the trumpets, the blare of the violin, all of it formed an amalgamation of classical sound that reverberated throughout the large room. It was beauty to the ears, a true musical force di triumphe.

One mare’s notes stood far above those around her though, even in this already proud display of dexterous skill. Standing on the hindhooves proudly, Octavia’s cello stood out above all of these trained professionals though, playing with a practiced skill that drew the hearts and minds of the crowd further and further towards her. The subtle nuances in her movements, the slow strikes of her bow upon the strings that brought with it a haunting melody that made all of those that listened yearn for handkerchiefs to dabble into their eyes, such was the force of her musical talent.

Twilight was left speechless. It was as if her ears had heard nothing until now, and at last the true sounds of the world were opened up to her now that this mare and opened the doors of auditory sensation to her. “It’s... amazing.” was all she could say.

Antoine nodded, dumbfounded at how good this had turned out to be. Charles found his mouth suddenly dry. He had only found love in the military marches he woke up too daily, never finding the likes of Beethoven or Bach at all as attractive as they were made out to be, but this, this! This was true orgasmic bliss to the ears, and even that was putting it lightly. That such a musician, a creature who was normally incapable by very birth from using such instruments, would create such perfection... It nearly brought a tear to his eye.

This intro ended after a delightful five minutes, leaving all who listened wanting for more, so much more. The players rose from their seats, or just stood in the case of Octavia, and bowed lowly, before departing. “Magnifique!” Charles shouted in an absolute roar, clapping wildly.

His impulsive gesture set shockwaves throughout all the room. Everyone rose, clapping fiercely with a fervor previously unknown to them. Octavia, being the last in line out of the room, caught the full brunt of this praise, and it was clear from even the distance of their sky-box that she was deliriously happy at this, a wetness coming out of her eyes. Taking a look at the source of the clapping, she sent Charles a thankful nod, and left. Charles suddenly added something new to his list of post-show activities.

Compared to that startling performance, the rest of the show was downright dull. A droll performance by a series of actors who were either not paid enough or just did not give a damn, as they performed Shakespeare in a manner that could be said to befit a dead penguin, but even they would probably be insulted by it. Any excitement that had come to them from the excellent display by Octavia and her compadres drizzled out into an apathy fit only for boredom such as this. The casting was poor, and the stage props so visibly fake it almost made their eyes bleed, which was fitting considering they used what looked to be tomato juice in place of blood.

Charles finally sat down, as he stopped caring about the play the moment where the titular Duke of Gloucester, the only character that seemed at all interesting to him, became more and more comically villainous that it removed all joy he had, which was not helped at all by the almost stuttered performance by the actor playing him. Twilight and Antoine did not even get that far into caring. Antoine was looking rather sluggish, and Twilight had actually fallen asleep. The other two could only wish they could join her.

When it ended at last, a mercy indeed, there were only polite claps from the audience as the cast bowed once more. Antoine yawned slowly. “Well, that was a bust.”

“Oh really?” Charles spat back, head resting on his arm.

Twilight shook slightly, having fallen asleep a while ago.“... Did it end?” Twilight grumbled, eyes opening at last from the slumber she found herself it.

“Ha, it never even began!” Charles complained, his nails digging into the armrest past his gloves out of sheer anger at all that time wasted.

“Well hey, it wasn’t a total waste. I mean, the music was fine.” Antoine reasoned.

“Oh yes! I mean, that Octavia was simply amazing. She did things with her hooves I’ve never seen a mare do before!” Twilight said with eyes that almost sparkled, to the bewilderment of those around her.

Charles and Antoine had to decide whether to inform her of the very sharp innuendo of her words, or let her stay as innocent as she was. A quick glance they exchanged leaned them towards the latter option. Coughing into his hoof, Antoine lent them a conciliatory smile. “Well I am truly am sorry this got messed up so much, contrary to my own expectations. Want to rush out of here before the entryway really gets crowded?” he offered.

Charles shook his head, to the surprise of Antoine. “No, I’m interested in meeting that mare, Octavia. Do you think we could get a chance to meet her? I’d love to speak with her about her performance.” he asked, his words containing no obvious alternative motive besides such a desire.

Looking suspicious of this, Antoine gave Twilight a look. “Twilight, you want to meet her too?”

She shrugged. “Eh, it doesn’t matter to me either way. It would be nice, I suppose, just to thank her for the staggering performance.”

Muttering under his breath something about ‘troublesome kids’, Antoine flashed them a toothy grin. “Fine, see if you can find a way to the back stage. If you tell them who you are, I’m sure she’d love to meet you. I’ll meet you two outside.”

Nodding at him, Charles departed with a wave of his hand. “See you later then.”

Twilight followed close behind him, though yawning once more out of her latent sleepiness. “Bye major. When we get out, we better not see you seducing some poor innocent mare.” she threatened only half-jokingly.

“No promises!” he called after her as she left.

---

Charles and Twilight proceeded through the hallways surreptitiously, careful to avoid all contact by any assistants or guards by doing the one thing that, according to Charles, would get them no attention at all. Acting as if they were supposed to be there naturally, and not as if they were most likely intent on trespassing or harassing one of the theaters performers. It worked well, the only annoyances encountering them being the annoying colored Flemish tapestries on the walls that were a grotesque collection of color that offended both their sets of eyes, but after a few minutes of progress they had found themselves in the back of the theater, seeing stage hands either moving things or lazying about.

Picking a random man, Charles tapped his back, causing him to turn towards him. “Excuse me sir, do you know where Madame de Claro is residing at the moment?” he queried.

Scratching his massive brown beard, the stagehand took a moment to respond as he tried to recall what the name. “Ah yes, the pony with the maddening talents on the cello? I remember her now. She went out back with the leader of her troupe, you can find her there.” he replied, pointing towards said location.

“Merci.”

Heading there now, it did not take the two long to find the illustrious musical mare. They found her in a small corner by the back of the stage, with a tight-lipped and sallow-faced old man apparently arguing with her. “I told you once, and I told you twice Octavia, you will accept your current payment and you will not complain in the least!” the old man shouted, unknowing or perhaps just uncaring of the new visitors that were literally right there now.

Octavia kept a calm and graceful look, responding in the same manner. “And I will tell you, as I have told you numerous times already, that I am the only thing keeping this troupe together. I have accepted my current working conditions for a long while now, and if I do not receive the same payment as my compatriots, who as you know support me fully in this endeavour, I will leave. Right. Now.” she said, with more than a hint of iron showing.

The old man sputtered, astounded at her daring towards him. “You dare! You dare demand of me, the man who got you where you are today! Why, if it wasn’t for me you would be nothing more than a speck of dirt on the streets of Lyons, and I would be all the better for it. The ungratefulness of you whelp, it cuts deep, it cuts deeper than any wound you could inflict.” he spoke with a low and dark tone now, one that oozed ill intent.

“Excuse me sir and madame, is there a problem here?”

The musician and the manager turned to see a purple unicorn, and the source of the voice, a tall dirty blond man in a black soldiers uniform. The managers eyes narrowed at their presense. “No, not in the least Herr...?”

“Franz,” Charles said, for once relishing the chance to use that name, “And I do believe there is a problem, as this fine mare here seems to be on the receiving end of a rather unfair deal on your part.”

Octavia, recognizing him now, nodded at him. “You speak the truth Prinz Franz. For twelve years now I have been in service to this man, and he has treated me well enough. However, when I dared to ask for a modest increase in my conditions, so I could live a life of my own without being shackled by the need for his financial aid, he refused. After twelve years of making this troupe the best it could be, I believe I can demand that much.” she said clearly, eloquently, and with the same majesty in her voice that came out of her cello.

“It sounds to me like you’re not taking good care of your employees, sir.” Twilight spoke at last.

The manager nearly had a catatonic fit at her impromptu interruption, bringing him to address Charles once more, to find some form of sanity in this ever-growing pit of madness! “But sir, they’re ponies!” he declared, as if that was enough of a point to even constitute one.

A terrible quiet came over them at that statement, as the manager was assaulted by the very fierce glares of both Twilight and Octavia. Charles for his part looked almost amused at the hole the man had just dug himself in. “And just what does that mean sir?” the prince continued innocently.

Lacking gumption to even think of giving either mares a look, the manager pressed his suddenly dry lips together to formulate a response towards him. “Well... they’re not people. I mean, she couldn’t get anywhere in this world without my help, and it was my skills that molded her into the fine player she is. Otherwise she would just be another mare in the fields or the military. It’s the order of the land, we humans do what we can to turn these creatures into respectable members of society at large. Would you have me do nothing at all, and simply give in to her as if she was superior to me?” the manager ranted and raved, desperate to find some support from the prince.

Sadly, to him at least, Charles found no common ground with him, instead giving him cold eyes. It was better than Twilight’s at least, who was looking almost murderous by now. “Sir, are you saying that even if she had worked under you for years, the status of her birth deems you fit to judge her on what she receives or not? That you may do as you please, as if you were some deranged puppet-master hanging strings into the skin of this fine mare, no, this fine musician! For she it does not matter her species, what she had done with her life, what she has created tonight, is proof enough that she is deserving of such minor generosities as a decent works pay. And you would say otherwise, just because?”

“I, I mean...” the manager suddenly turned very red, the assault snapping something within him, “You dare to demand of me! I’ll tell you boy, I know people, and once I get this through the proper channels, I’ll ensure you’ll never get anywhere in this city!”

There was no sound for the next five seconds. Everyone became suddenly cool, so quiet you could hear a pin drop and the sound would echo all throughout the room. On the sixth second however, Twilight and Charles burst out into the most sudden and, dare I say it, mocking laughter they had ever performed. The man was flabbergasted as to why they were doing this, and demanded answers. “Stop laughing I say, what manner of tomfoolery is this?” he shouted rabidly.

Charles took a few precious moments to repress his rampant bemusement, and when he did so answered with a smirk, a victorious one, one that bode nothing but bad tidings for the manager. “Oh good sir, I’m afraid your threats are nothing to me. For you see, whatever friends you can scrounge up from whatever waste bucket of society you scrape them from, they would be as useless as sensibility to a poet. I, Franz von Hapsburg,” his smirk grew almost wicked as the man visibly near shat himself at the name, “Have much ‘higher’ contacts, so to speak.”

The prince stepped closer to the manager, so close he was almost hovering over him, his shadow casting a menacing darkness over the man that nearly made him run away on the spot in sheer fright. “Let me tell you what will happen next. I, in all my foresight, will be obliged to mention your troupe at the next family gathering. Whether this be positive, or negative, depends on what you! Do! Next!” he enunciated each word with extreme care.

He was nearly on the verge of breaking down into whimpers, Charles could tell. The smell of fear, the little cues on his old body, all of it. It spoke to him, gave him power. Oh it was seductive, this power over another man, to make him fear you. It sent chills of absolute delight down his spine, a welcome change from the chills he suffered from as of late. The manager did not answer him, only trying and failing to make some sensible reply. “Do you understand?” Charles spoke much calmer now, sounding as if he had suddenly coated his voice in a bucket of honey.

“Yes, I understand, I understand! I’ll raise her pay, I’ll give her all my pay if you want!” he babbled.

“That will not be necessary in the least.” Octavia remarked.

The musical mare was not liking where this was going in the least. As tempting as it was to give in to the pleasure of seeing the manager squirmed, she had known him too long now, too long to indulge in such cruelties. And the prince’s way of handling things seemed... excessive in their use. Twilight could only agree, without even knowing it, losing the similar desires she had had just a moment ago, and feeling very guilty with herself for thinking them in the first place. “I only ask for an increase in my pay, and to be treated as any other member of the troupe. I have grown now sir, and I only desire the chance to be treated like the rest of the men, for they treat me as one of their own already. Is it so much for you to ask the same of you Kellerman?” Octavia pleaded, finally showing how hurt she was at his earlier words.

The manager, who’s name was now revealed, absorbed her words. They were so shocking and personal, that it made him think for once at what she meant to him and his merry band. And what he realized nearly made him burst into tears of utter despair. “... No, it isn’t Octavia,” Kellerman stated, deciding at last, “I’ve treated you like just another pony for so long now, and... I’m sorry. I just, I just don’t know what to do sometimes, and you coming in and asking for more, it just set me off. I’m so sorry ‘Tavi, I just was worried that you would barge out and leave me if I gave you more. Can you forgive this poor old fool for nearly destroying one of the oldest friendships he’s had?”

Octavia laid her serene eyes on him, judging him, trying to find any hint of deceit. Charles had by now backed up to where Twilight was, a little confused at just what was going on, but he said nothing yet. At last Octavia stood stiff, opening her mouth and taking in a deep breath before speaking. Kellerman, expecting only a verbal lashing, closed his eyes as he felt tears begin to well up in them. But at last, Octavia looked down at him with pitying and kind eyes. “Do you even need to ask?” she said, as if it was obvious.

Kellerman, who thought by now that he only deserved scorn from her, could scarcely believe what she had just said. “You mean that?” he said with eyes full of a futile hope.

Octavia smiled softly towards him. “Of course I do, you old coot.” she declared, trotting forward and embracing him with both her hooves.

The brows of a certain prince were now definitely raised. “Just what is going on here?” he whispered harshly to Twilight.

“Decent people, that’s what.” she whispered back, smiling at the adorable sight before her.

That answer did not satisfy him in the least, but he would have to deal with it. This had already taken a huge chunk of their time away. And to think, he just wanted to say hi and thank her for the nice performance, and instead he was dragged into some conflict that ended as if it came out of some sappy English novel. It made his stomach quench at the mere sight of it. But asides from his distaste towards the current situation, Octavia and Kellerman were still enjoying their hug, only parting after a few more tearful exchanges and desperate apologies on his part were made.

“Oh thank you two! If you did not arrive, who knows what more I could have said, what worse things I might have done? Thank you Prinz Franz, thank you Madame, bless you, bless you!” Kellerman thanked them deliriously, heading towards them now to express his thanks.

Octavia watched the over-dramatic old man with a wistful smile on her muzzle, while Charles and Twilight were now backing away slowly from that same old man who was now getting awfully too close for comfort. “Uh, it’s no problem Herr Kellerman.” Twilight interjected.

‘What the hell have I stumbled into,’ Charles contemplated. Sure he was okay with putting that man in his place, but he had been dragged way too far into a situation he cared naught for at all. Seeing him bristle with displeasure, Twilight shook her head at him. Was he really not getting what was so nice about this? Kellerman meanwhile had grabbed Charles hand and was shaking it fiercely. “And you, good sir, you’ve snapped me out of my rage. How can I ever repay you!”

“... I just wanted to talk to Octavia.” Charles said simply in a strained voice.

“Ah, of course! Right away. I’ll be off now, I have to get with the rest of the boys, but you can be assured that I’ll treat her right from now on Monsieur Franz, you can rest assure of it!” Kellerman declared.

Kellerman walked off then, leaving only two mares and a single prince in the room. “Well, I’m glad to see you two patched things up than.” Twilight said with a smile Octavia’s way.

Octavia returned it in a much more subdued manner. “Quite. I’m glad you two came when you did. Even if it was a bit... extreme. And I must say, it is an honor meeting you Prinz Franz. I’ve heard quite a bit about you.” Octavia commented, bowing slightly his way.

Charles shook his head at this motion. “Ah madame, I demand no such pleasantries. Rather, I should only hope to act in such a way towards you, after your most magnificent performance. Helping you was, at best, only a minor repatriation for you adding life to an otherwise droll day,” he stopped for a moment, before kneeling before her and circling his hands around her hooves, to both mares shock, “If I may?”

Amazed at what he was offering her, Octavia nodded slowly. Charles returned the gesture, before raising her hoof slightly, and giving it a single kiss on the tip. “For the excellent show.” he told her.

“Merci your grace. You do me too kind a favor with your act.” Octavia thanked him.

“The favor is given to me, for having the simple honor of hearing you play. But alas, I fear we have spent too long here now. We’ve gotten ourselves into a tidy mess, and we are lucky it turned out as good as it did.”

“Yeah, Antoine’s probably clopping his hooves out of boredom by this point,” Twilight added, before considering it further, “Or he might be bugging some poor mare. Oh dear.”

Charles rolled at his eyes at the very possible thought. “Aye, you’re right. Forgive me madame, but we must depart for now.”

“That’s fine, but if you would monsieur,” Octavia glanced at Twilight for a moment, “I would like to speak with you, in a more, private venue for a moment. If you would be so kind.”

Twilight took a moment to see that the implied question, and made a small ‘oh’ sound. Looking split on just what to do, she sighed when Charles nodded towards her, the prince looking quite curious at what the musical mare wanted. Twilight decided she could leave him alone for just a moment, and nodded towards Octavia. “See you outside than.” she said, before departing.

As she trotted away, Octavia looked at the prince apologetically. “Forgive me if I sounded rude towards her, but I would prefer I speak about this with you in private. I do not know of her political status here, and I’d rather not risk revealing sensitive information without knowing the consequences of letting her listen.” she explained.

Now Charles was more than interested, his curiosity was piqued beyond belief. Stepping closer to her in order to hear her better, he perused what she meant. “What do you mean? I thought you were a musician, not a political conspirator.” he spoke accusingly.

Octavia looked almost offended at his suggestion. Or at least, her eyes narrowed slightly, an expressive gesture from such a stoic mare. “To call me a conspirator is an overreaction sire, but I understand the misunderstanding.”

“Hmph. Even so, Twilight was no threat at all. She’s innocent beyond compare. I doubt she would even care about the political idiocies of Österreich that you threaten to tell me now. And I can only care just barely more.” he said with a hint of obvious distaste.

“Trust me sire, I did not ask you to talk with me in some dusty theater corner after oh so conveniently coming to my aid. I was planning on finding you from the very start, as soon as I realized I was headed to Wien. I did not come just to speak of the nuances of the Reich. Instead, I wanted to tell you about the situation in France.” Octavia revealed at last.

Charles kept remarkably calm considering what was just said. And with his heart beating a mile a minute now, he felt very proud of himself for speaking his next few words in a calm yet inquisitive tone. “I’m listening.”

Octavia looked pleased with herself, glad that she had got him interested. “I know who you are, Prince Imperial Napoléon II, sole legitimate child of l’Empereur Napoléon himself.”

His eyes became cross at this, as he felt his blood boil a bit. “And? You know facts, what do they matter to me here, where I am a prisoner in all but name?” he said with great vitriol.

“Because the situation in France might allow greater opportunities in the future, for one who I can already tell is as ambitious as his father.” she hinted.

Despite being confused as to whether he should feel flattered or unworthy by being compared to his almost-mythical father, the only external sign of emotion Charles showed was a raise of his left brow. “How so?”

“Simple. The new king, Charles X, is as reactionary as they come. The Bourbons seek to destroy all your father and the Revolution created, and it is clear that the farcical body that passes for a Chamber of Deputies only bows its head to him save in the most insane of decrees. I and others in France wish for a return to the days of L’Empereur, and we are growing in power by the day.”

“What!? But I thought the people supported the Bourbon bastard for, well, God knows whatever reason, now you’re saying there’s a chance for a new revolution?” Charles asked, daring to hope for this chance to be real.

Octavia huffed in disgust at the very suggestion. “The few Royalists left among the common humans and ponies are rare in showing their support. Charles X has not been on the throne for only a few months, and already he wishes to push the rights of the average colt and mare down so far that we would basically be akin to the serfs in Russia, if it could be described kindly!” Octavia spoke with a much greater conviction now, a rare outburst of emotion from her.

Seeing that Charles was digesting her words, Octavia continued. “Napoléon gave the average pony rights, gave us the first taste of freedom since the general abolition of slavery more than a few decades ago. I am not passionate about most things monsieur, but the rights our great Empereur gave us once is one of them, and that is why I joined up with the Bonapartists, to see if I could bring this message to your place of exile. To see if you, should we ever work in force, would seek to find your way back to France and take the crown.”

Charles stayed silent for a moment longer, before speaking again. “My father... did you know him?” was all he asked, almost timidly.

Octavia was surprised at the relatively innocent question, one that seemed so simple and... almost pleading in fact. It saddened her that she had to shake her head in response. “Non monsieur, I am afraid not. I reached my teens only after the wars ended over a decade ago. I only wish I could though.” she stated with a deep regret.

Sighing at his foolish and pretentious hope, Charles eyed her sullenly. “There is no need for regret. The very fact that you seek to help me, and France, is enough to prove your sincerity. But tell me, would you care to tell me of what my father did for the ponies?” he asked further, trying to get some information about his father, no matter how tangential.

“Much. Oh the Council of Celestia, the integration of the educational systems, so much to tell and so little time to say them. I am more than sure your friends are growing further impatient at your absence, so I do not wish to take up more of your time. Just know that your father, l’Empereur during France’s golden days, was a military man through and through, and the military of all nations have always been the best supporters of the equality of pony and man.”

Charles could only agree with the statement. He remembered explaining it to Twilight, how strange it was those in the military were usually the main supporters of the equality of both species, but it actually made sense when you thought about it. Most ponies were consigned to the military, as it was one of the few career paths open to them. There, they served with, or usually under, men of various stripes, who formed bonds of camaraderie with them like any other soldier. It offered a surprisingly unbiased view of ponies compared to the view the archaic order presented, and made the humans more sympathetic to them in turn. It only made sense, that his father, a military man, would support pony rights.

Smiling a thin smile now, he said “Thank you madame. You’ve told me so much already, more than I ever hoped to know. But I ask at last, how do you expect me to ever escape this accursed state? Even if the whole of France pleaded for my return, I doubt the snake...” at Octavia’s curious look he elaborated, “...Kanzler von Metternich, would be willing to let me leave, and mein Opa only just more so. How can I be expected to take the crown of Charlemagne without even being able to enter France proper?”

At this Octavia bit her lip, that part of the plan being unpolished at best. “I do not know monsieur. That part you would have to work out for yourself, unless we could sneak you into France through Sardinia-Piedmont, but I doubt the Kaiser would be pleased at this, and might send the whole of Europe after us out of spite.”

“True. Regardless, if you and your fellow co-conspirators have no idea, I will work on that portion of the plot than. If France beckons for me, I will come to her. Until than, I shall work on a plot to gain favor in the eyes of the Kaiser, and perhaps even be allowed to serve in the army proper, instead of being hand ceremonial titles and ranks. It is a long plot, but it is the only plausible idea I have in mind, save the unlikely chance Metternich catches a ball made of pure idiocy and decides to hold onto it.”

“That seems to be for the best monsieur. I take it you wish to leave now?” Octavia said, mainly out of politeness.

“Quite madame. Until we meet again, tell your fellow Bonapartists that I support their endeavours fully, and that if they ever fall into action, I will do everything within my power to support them and return to France, to reclaim my legacy.” he spoke with a serious conviction, one that made the fur on Octavia’s neck stand up in wonderment.

“Merci monsieur. If you share the same conviction you have in your voice with your skills as a ruler, I can only hope you manage to run our great nation one day, before it is sunken into rot and despair.” she confided.

“Your faith in me does me great justice madame. Farewell than, and tell France that as soon as she desires help, I will be there to comfort her.”

“I shall. Au revoir mon Prince Imperial.”

He left after that, slinking out of the back and into the hallways of the rest of the building. Shadowing past what was left of the guests, he found the exit in a short amount of time. Back in the streets of Wien itself, only a few feet from the exit, Twilight and Antoine were waiting patiently, or impatiently in the latter’s case. At the sight of him Twilight shook her head ruefully, greeting him with a questioning look. “There you are! I was wondering what was taking you so long. I thought that me and the major here would have to storm the place and drag you out from whatever dastardly forces were going on in there.”

        Shrugging his shoulders in response, Charles responded with a lackluster mood. “I was busy. She was rather insistent on talking to me for whatever reason, and I answered her to the best of my capabilities.”

        Antoine grunted after his words, casting a deep frown his way, before it turned into a perverted grin. “Busy, eh? Ha, I wonder. You and that mare weren’t doing anything in there, that was, dare I say, improper?” he said, his tone implying more than enough.

        Both Charles and Twilight shared disgusted looks at that, the mare nearly vomiting at the thought of it. Which had the adverse affect of dashing away her anger at the prince and aiming it towards Antoine.

“Don’t even joke about such disgusting things, Major. It’s sickening.” Charles reprimanded.

        “Agreed. I mean, it’s kind of... gross.” Twilight admitted.

        Antoine could only shake his head at their sudden anger. “Ha, you two cannot take a joke at all apparently. But even so, what took you so long, lad? Were you straightening her tie or something?”

        Twilight remembered now that she was angry at Charles as well, and redirected half of her annoyance towards the prince. “I’d like to know just what was going on as well, if you wouldn’t mind.” she said in at least a calm and simple tone.

        Charles crossed his arms in annoyance at their continued questioning. “No Antoine, in fact, we simply discussed culture and whatnot. Nothing dark or grossly perverted as you offered, to my own affront. Even so I apologize for the time of yours that I have wasted, I did not intend in the least for it to take that long.”

        Only finding the resolve to frown at him for a moment more, Twilight’s friendship overwhelmed her temperament again. “Fine. I just want to head to where ever else we were headed today. I’d rather not spend half the day arguing, and the other half walking to destinations we’ll have no time to spend in at all.”

        “I can only agree. What use is it in arguing over what has already come to pass, when we are wasting even more time that could be spent doing practical assignments.” Charles reasoned.

        Antoine, seeing he was cornered, sighed. “If you two must insist, but be forewarned, I’m not letting you two out of my sight so easily again. God knows what could have happened while you were away, and to my head as a result.”

        “Rest assured Major, we are more than capable of handling ourselves. Twilight especially.” the prince told him.

        The purple mare gave him a thankful smile at the compliment, one he truly meant. After all, all the words he spoke about her were true. And his explanation of what he was doing was true as well, if hazy in its description. He was only duplicitous when it would serve her better, was he not? Was it not better to simply smudge the truth, in order to ensure she remained happier? He thought so, and saw no reason to think otherwise. Revealing more crucial information such as that and Sophie might threaten his relationship with her, and that was a possibility that could not be tolerated in the least.

        As as an aside to his baneful thoughts, Antoine shook his head grimly. “That may be, but it is my duty nonetheless. And after all, is duty not the highest of a persons virtues?”

        “I’d say it’s decency.” Twilight chimed in.

“And I’d say it’s stalwart knowledge, but this is neither the time nor place for such debates.” Charles informed them.

“True mein Prinz, true. Now then, should we head on?” the major asked.

At an affirmative ‘yes’ from the two, he nodded. “Alright than. Follow me, my Fischchen, I have a piece of Wien you can’t truly say you have experienced the city without.” he hinted, trotting through the street.

        The two followed him, trying to catch on to his meaning. “And that is...?” Twilight drifted off.

        “Why the bar of course!” he said with a laugh.

        A tingle of cold fear lept into Charles at that. “Major, may I speak with you for a moment?” he spoke with a severe need to do so.

Finding his response off-putting, Antoine agreed with a ‘Yes’ as Twilight wondered just what it was he wanted from the major.

Hurrying over to the major with a deliberate haste, Charles leaned in close to him, walking side by side with him. “Antoine, I believe there’s a problem with your little idea.” he whispered.

Misinterpreting what he meant, Antoine crossed his eyes at what he thought the prince was suggesting. “Oh dammit, it’s an upscale place, it’s not one of those trashy places I assure you. I might be a lech at times, but I am not a fool kid.” Antoine whispered back, though in harsh tones.

Charles shook his head in frustration. “Herr Major, that’s not the problem. The problem is that I’m afraid Twilight can’t consume anything alcoholic in nature.”

        As Charles shot back a glance at Twilight, who was still left behind the two, wondering just what the sudden rush was about, Antoine nearly passed out from shock. “What!?” he shouted, before Charles beckoned him to stay quieter, “What do you mean she can’t? Gott in Himmel Charles, she’s fifteen, and a mare her age can drink to her hearts content so long as it doesn’t end in her purse getting lighter than it is supposed to, or other despicable acts committed towards her.”

Charles felt an involuntary swelling disgust at the very thought of such ‘acts’ occurring to Twilight. Even if he knew there was less than zero percent chance of them happening due to his own faith in Twilight’s cognisant functions and common sense, it was chilling all the same towards him, as shown when the majors words brought an acidic taste up his throat. “Even if she wanted to, I’m afraid Count Mortiz beat you to it. He gave her some Bayerischen wine on her fifteenth year on his own suggestion.”

        “And?” Antoine demanded more information.

        Charles felt embarrassed just thinking about it, such was the severity of the situation. “Let us just say it involved her not being able to cope with her liquor, and me never being able to use the trousers I wore that day again. Okay?”

        Antoine nearly burst into riotous laughter at that very non-descript, yet still humorous bit if information, before he was reminded once more he was in public. “Fine, we’ll get her some, I don’t know, fresh water or something? That’s going to cost me more though.” he said with a hint of distaste.

        “You can rest assured I’ll pay for it out of my own coin.” Charles told him.

        “Nah, I’ll be fine. I just want you to know I’m doing you a favor, plain and simple, alright?”

        “Alright with me than.”

        “Hello! What are you two talking about?” Twilight yelled, sure they were discussing something related to her.

        The prince and the major looked at each other with a knowing look at her question. “We were discussing... Beverages.” Antoine said nervously.

        Resisting the urge to slam his head against the very hard sidewalk at the very lame excuse, Charles nodded in affirmation. “Yes. Beverages.” he concurred with the veracity of a gambler with a very bad poker face.

        Twilight could not tell whether to laugh or not? Beverages? They had to be messing with her... unless they weren’t, which knowing them, was unlikely yet still a possibility. After all, Charles and Mortiz practically demanded an oath from her never to speak of what happened to her while she was out during her fifteenth birthday, to her modest, if understanding, chagrin. Could it be possible they were just worrying about her going to some upscale place? The mare didn’t know just why her drinking would so bad. She had little to no memories of what had happened after she took a minor sip from the drink Mortiz offered her, passing out practically as soon as it passed into her muzzle and down her throat, but she doubted it was anything that bad, right?

Even if she did pursue what they wanted to conceal from her, she had severe doubts it was anything truly critical of her. Besides, Charles wouldn’t seek to speak privately unless it was truly needed, and she was sure that if she asked later he would tell her. He was always truthful with her! Her internal debate mostly settled by now, Twilight gave them both a suspicious yet non-hostile look. “Beverages? You two really need something better to talk about.” she joked, flashing them an amused smirk.

        The two males pushed away the urge to sigh in delirious relief, glad that they would not be hounded by her questioning. “Yes, well, now that we’ve got that out of the way,” Antoine’s solace at that was almost palpable, “How about we stop such idle nonsense, seeing as we’re here now?”

        “Huh?” was heard from the other two as they finally took a look at just where they were now. It was a small, about two stories at best building, and had an almost quaint looking quality to it. It was coated a luxurious red on the outside, and from the few windows that dotted the outside they could see only a few people inside. Despite being in a more well-off part of the city, it looked almost homely in its decor, something which gained the admiration of Twilight in particular.

        “Wow, it looks nice.” Twilight appraised kindly, her excitement actually mounting now.

        Charles shrugged his shoulders towards the building. “Eh, it’s fine.” he stated neutrally.

        “Fine indeed my boy. I’ve frequented this place every time I’ve been to this city, and ever since I moved here, at least once a week. Finest damn brew in the Reich, if I do say so myself. And I thought to myself when planning the day over, ‘why not have meine Fischchen come with me, to share a nice experience together away from the incessant demands of acting as their tutor?’ The answer, as you could probably guess, was a resounding yes!” the major informed them with a special delight in his tone.

        Considering these words, Charles put a hand to his chin in a thoughtful position. It only made sense he supposed that Antoine would want to get closer to them both. They had only really stayed a consistent amount of time with each other for a few months, their meeting a couple of years ago while being the building block of their current relationship still not offering enough of a personal connection to truly count for anything. And as dead-set as he was against actually having to know anyone besides his dearest unicorn friend, Antoine sparked an interest within him. Mainly for all the knowledge of his father that he hinted at yet never fully revealed to him, almost like some trapper setting numerous devices to lead a creature to its inevitable entrapment.

        ‘...Actually, that was an awful comparison,’ he realized. And untrue, at least he hoped it was. But still, Antoine’s intent was clear at the very least. He could credit him that much, he supposed. “Well than, if that is your wish Herr Major, then let us go in.” Charles told him.

        “Right away Prinz, Madame.” the major replied, heading towards the door.

        Charles opened the double-set door for them, waiting for them to pass before following them inside. It was a spacious, near-empty place of gathering, with numerous tables spread throughout the room with big wooden chairs sitting by them. The smell of excellently made alcoholic beverages of all stripes wafted through the air, along with the smoke coming from a few of the cigar-bearing patrons. There were only a few customers that sat in this establishment, a couple sitting by the counter where a balding, gray-haired man served drinks, and a few scattered guests with no real connection between them. The only really noticeable patrons were at the far end of the establishment, where on one side of the large table sat two bearded gentlemen, one with red hair and the other clean blond, in black tophats and equally colored waistcoats.

On their opposite side stood two ponies, taking the open space so they could stand. One was an orange-coated stout Pegasus, wearing a gray pony-sized uniform with fitting holes the its wings slipped through with ease, currently inert at its sides. The last guest was a cyan unicorn, wearing a large brown trench coat and sporting a large, bushy moustache, that was only a slightly different shade than the rest of the pony. The second pony also had a large, fat cigar stuck in his muzzle, inhaling it in deep breaths, which was most likely where the small cloud of smog over their table came from. Both the ponies trench coats blocked any view of their cutie marks, something which irked Twilight for her own reasons.

Cantering forward with a spring in his step, Antoine trotted towards the counter, a few of the patrons giving him waves or risen glasses as he passed by, which he returned with equal gestures. His two disciples stood behind him, Charles eying the distinct look of the place with a wary eye, and Twilight being much the same, save with a more inquisitive and less suspicious mind. Reaching it at last, Antoine placed his forehooves on the counter, giving the bartender a thin grin at his questioning look. “Grüß dich, Bernd. Zwei Ottakringer for us, und ein Wasser für das Mädchen.” he ordered in a hushed whisper, without much in the way of a greeting, having been through this all often enough.

Bernd, sparing only a minor glance in the direction of the the two newcomers in his client’s entourage, nodded, pointing them towards a table. Nodding in return, Antoine worked his way toward said table, his two students close at hand, or hoof in his case. While Bernd began work on their brew, the three took certain places at the table located next to the wooden wall, one with two long benches on two opposite sides. It stood next to the table with the two humans and two ponies, who seemed to be engaged in some sunken conversation.

Charles sat down on the side closest to the entrance, while Twilight and Antoine debated over who would sit where, considering there was only enough space on the other spot for one pony to lie down. Twilight told Antoine to sit down, saying that he had done enough standing around waiting for them as is, but he refused verbosely, insisting she sit. After Charles’ intervention for Antoine’s case, Twilight complied, if only to not draw out an argument further, and lied down, while the major stood patiently at the free side of the table.

“So, Herr Antoine, any stories to offer us while we wait for whatever it is you’ve bought us?” Charles began.

“Not much unless you’d like my days in training as a standard member of the Dragoons. Oh there are stories, but none I doubt children your age would be interested in.” the major answered.

“Major, I’m more than sure we’d be interested. You’ve lived a decently long life, so I’m certain whatever you would want to say would intrigue us decently enough,” Twilight said, considering something for a moment before muttering her next words, “Though I do want to know what you ordered for us.”

The major’s ears rose at those last few words, catching them well, suppressing a smug smirk in response. He knew what Charles was fishing for, that was obvious to all their save for Twilight, who did not or could not catch duplicity in her friends intents, whether out of ignorance and denial he did not know. What Charles wanted was information on the one item he valued above all other things, perhaps even over his own life. Information on his father. The boy was enraptured in his father’s life, his deeds, his everything, and having only a scant few facts as a base upon which to build his view of him, he resorted to a nigh-mythological view of his father.

It made Antoine curse Metternich, who had arranged him to become their tutor and, as with everything around them, made it suit his own needs. His needs being the betterment of the Reich and its long-term stability, a goal Antoine felt concurrent to his own. He loved his country, the very fact that he was in this position was proof enough for that, and he was sure that that, and his... unique status were reasons enough to assign him to the boy. With the reassignment of his first tutor and the growing disability of the latter, it only made sense. But back to his cursing of the Kanzler, he saw the problems he would have in molding Charles/Franz into a proper Prinz of the Imperial Court since his very first meeting with the boy.

Mainly, that in holding back all information on his father, only letting scant details pass by their scrutiny, they had planted the seeds of a much darker and more strong-willed belief that would make it all the harder for them to work with. In the absence of details, Charles had made his own facts about his dad, or over-emphasized certain details from his famished memories of times that seemed so distant now. Instead of telling him certain aspects of his father that they could use to turn his opinion against L’Empereur, they had allowed the boy to build his own conclusions, to instill within his mind the idea of the Corsican as an infallible figure at worst, and a deity at best. He damned Metternich, he damned himself for taking up the job, and he damned fate for doing the latter and ensuring Charles had lost his family, or the only family he cared about at least.

But he was thinking too deeply now. In his stupor, he had lost himself in his own idle musings. The two were looking at him weirdly now, Charles almost daring to snap his fingers in front of his muzzle to see if any sort of response would come out of him. Shaking himself slightly to lighten his now heavy eyes, Antoine answered Twilight at last. “Ah yes, I got myself and Prinz Franz hier something called ‘Ottakringer’. Delicious beer, an excellent source of pleasure on even the darkest day.”

“And you got me...?”

“Water.”

“...”

“Oh don’t give me that look Fraulein. This is the cleanest water in the city next to the palace water, which I, I assure you, is not so deep a difference as to actually matter.”

“But why would the water matter? I mean, it’s going to be clean no matter what you do, right?” Twilight said, starting to get confused at his responses now.

“What, don’t tell me you’ve never had regular water before now right?” Antoine asked, honestly expecting a no.

At her bashful shake of her head, and Charles’ sudden gaze in the farthest direction from his position, Antoine was informed more than enough. It made sense, he supposed, considering that Charles never had unfiltered water till now, and wherever Twilight lived seemed to have it as well if her astonishment was any indication. He still refused to believe that whole ‘Equestria’ nonsense, and he never would if she brought it up again. “Never mind than. Hey, about I ask you what you’ve read recently? Surely you’ve looked at something at least halfway decent.” Antoine attempted to redirect the focus of the conversation.

A little off balance at the sudden question, Twilight tried to formulate a response. “Hmm, well. I’ve looked at some books of poetry recently. Fascinating stuff, and I really like some of the more modern texts. They just seem more... natural, more lifelike in their wording and imagery to me.” she wistfully spoke, getting lost a bit in her own recollection.

Antoine nodded politely, not at all understanding of what she was talking about, but listening intently all the same. He was not a rude bastard or anything, in fact he was always a bit of a romantic when it came to the chivalrous texts of old. Though in fairness those related not at all to the current situation. Charles however, huffed indignantly at her proclamation. “I don’t know why you enjoy such shallow texts Twilight. Poetry is a boring slodge of text, fit not for someone with more discerning tastes as yourself.” the prince said in a disapproving fashion.

“Just because it’s not in your tastes doesn’t mean it’s shallow by nature. It’s just different tastes.” she reasoned.

“Nein, it is me trying to get you into something more worthy of your intelligence. I’ve read poetry, and the only thing it inspired in me was a desire to bang my head against a wall.”

This was somewhere Antoine did not like, so he was thankful indeed when the barkeep came by them with their drinks. “Hey, drinks!” he informed them before Twilight could continue.

They stayed silent, thankfully, though Twilight still shot Charles a displeased look, one that he shrugged off without harm. Bernd the barkeep put their drinks down, and looked expectantly at Antoine when he did so. Realizing what he wanted, Antoine moved his tail and slipped it into one of his uniforms pockets, pulling out a few silver coins. Bernd put out his hand expectantly, and Antoine raised his tail over said hand, releasing his hold and dropping them on the appendage. “Danke for the service mein Freund. We’ll drink to your health tonight.” Antoine thanked him.

Nodding, the barkeep wandered off back to his stand. Charles watched the affair that just happened with some curiosity. “Nice movement there major.” he complimented.

“Yeah, that was really cool there with your tail. I don’t think I could do that in my dreams!” Twilight concurred.

“Ah, danke Prinz Franz, danke Twilight, but what might seem to be an amazing move to you two is simply another perk of my body.” Antoine responded with a cheeky grin.

Charles shook his head at the major’s cheerful attitude. It had always fascinated him, the differences between the pony races, and what had just occurred was a perfect example of them. While like many, he had dismissed earth ponies at first due to their lack of distinguishing features compared to the unicorns and pegasi, his assumption had been proven false after due research. They had many such bonuses the other two races did not have, only they were more subtle and/or less pronounced.

While unicorns and their magic, and pegasi their wings, the earth ponies gained a certain amount of strength and dexterity with their tails that the other two did not have. He had seen Twilight attempt to use her tail in such a way once, and it had proven a bust, with the appendage moving little if at all besides shaking back and forth slightly, nowhere near the type of movement he had just seen. Earth ponies could theoretically write with their tails as well, though usually they preferred to write with the utensils in their muzzles like most ponies that could actually write. He never understood that queer aspect of pony behavior, but some things were just mysterious by nature he supposed.

Along with that, the muscle mass of earth ponies was superior as well, whether out of birth or by training he did not know, compared to the lighter bone structure of the pegasi and the relative lack of strength most unicorns possessed in exchange for their magical abilities. Truly he was thankful for the books he had read about the famous Renaissance personality Leonardo da Vinci, who had done several dissections on pony corpses along with human ones, which provided a helpful if disturbing look into the topic of anatomy. Charles prided himself on knowing all he could know after all.

And most of all, their advantage was numbers. The population disparity involved between earth ponies and the other two races was large, very large. There were some estimates among census-takers that the disparity was in most nations as far as ten to one, though there were other studies that leaned towards a lower or higher number. Though pegasi were hard to get accurate readings in terms of numbers, what with at least half of them living in the clouds above, refusing to interact in world affairs. This of course brought them a good amount of scorn from humans and ponies, especially the pegasi that served in any nations military. But even with that lack of data, earth ponies were still the majority, by far.

        Shaking his head of his idle thoughts now, Charles decided to grab his drink, raising the large clear glass high above the table. “I call for a toast. How about you two?” he asked, feeling an odd desire to celebrate the occasion.

Antoine was visibly at his action. “Sounds great. To the Reich!” Antoine cheered, before biting on the rim of his glass, and raising it with his teeth up to meet Charles’ glass.

“To good tidings!” Charles said with a smirk.

Finding a fondness for the ongoing situation, where they all just relaxed and shared a decent drink, Twilight raised her glass with her magic. As the pink glow overwhelmed it, it rose into the air, meeting the other two glasses with a loud chinking noise. “To friends!” Twilight graciously spoke.

        Having done a good cheer, the three took a large gulp from their drinks, Antoine leaning his head back so the liquid would poor down, and Charles and Twilight simply raising their own to their lips. Right after their first sip though, a loud bang was heard by the occupied table next to them. “I swear Fellfohlen, if you keep up that idiocy I’m walking out of here with Johann!” a loud voice rang out, distracting the three from their merriment.

        The three gave each other silent looks, a mutual understanding to just wait and not interfere with what was happening. A ‘tsk’ sound was heard from another person, male sounding. “Fine than, go! If you want to be an arse and go on with your damned ‘integrationist’ talk, than be my guest!” the second voice angrily bit back.

        “Maybe we will!” a third voice entered the fray.

        Sighing to himself miserably, Antoine looked over to see who it was. Yep, his guess was correct. It was the four patrons they saw on their way in, with the two humans and the two ponies sharing a glare-off, one that looked like it might turn violent if intervention did not occur. ‘Why can’t I just have a decent day with the fishes?’ Antoine wondered with another internal sigh, than mentally berating himself for doing that so much lately.

        Trotting over to their table, unknowing or just uncaring that Charles and Twilight followed right behind him, finding this much more interesting than what was otherwise occurring, Antoine greeted the tense exchange with a full-on smile. “Guten Tag! Wie geht’s den Herrschaften? Any problems?”

        The major was very proud of himself, in that he managed to withstand the successive force of all their glares being transferred to him without breaking into chills, only keeping up his good-natured smile in response. “I’ll take that as a yes than.” he continued.

        One of the humans, the red-bearded men, grunted loudly. “These two here are being fools, good sir. They’re talking some nonsense about ‘the Pony Liberation Front,’ and ignoring all good values of common sense.” he complained.

        “It’s only nonsense to you because you’re a human Adolphe, and thus have a certain bias, to say the least!” the dark-coated Pegasi shouted back.

        “It’s nonsense because it is, simple as that. If you want to separate from the rest of civilized society Himmelswächter, fine with me, but with the methods you suggest? No, not at all. I’m a fan of pony rights as much as the next common man, but what you’re saying is madness.” Adolphe verbally fought back.

        “We only want the complete freedom of ponykind, whatever the methods may be. Integration with humans is akin to destroying our culture, and that must be stopped at all cost. If revolution must be used to do it, so be it!” the cyan unicorn at last spoke.

        “But Fellfohlen, integration with the rest of human society is the only way that won’t end in defeat for ponykind! Even if some radical organization united all the Pegasi in the land, and about half the regular ponies rose up against the nations of the world, something which is already highly dubious in theory, it would be crushed with swift, and brutal harshness. It would only set your cause back further, and the cause of bronies in general!” the last human, who they assumed to be Johann, pointed out.

        “Ha, bronies! They speak that they are for the good of ponies, but they simply sit on their asses and do nothing. Despicable.” Himmelswächter argued.

        “Um, excuse me?”

        All eyes turned to Twilight, though due to tensions being more focused on each other now, unlike with Antoine, it was not an insurmountable pressure. Twilight kept her cool well enough, though being the apex of attention was unnerving to her. “Just what is a ‘brony’?” Twilight asked tentatively.

        All four sets of eyes turned dumbfounded at her question, until Charles spoke as well. “I’d like to know too. I’ve heard of them, but little can be found in terms of info on them in general. Care to explain?” the prince questioned.

        Adolphe responded first, interlocking his hands in a thoughtful position. “Ah, that’s right, you’re children,” he spoke, ignorant of their annoyance at being called that, “Well that explains it. Johann, you know a bit more than me, how about you explain?”

        “Aye mein freund. You see you two, bronies are the followers of the famous human Polish writer, Bronisław Kowalski, born around a hundred years or so ago.”

        “Bronisław?” Charles confusedly asked.

        “Yes. He argued for many of the principals of the modern Equestrian movement to this day, in a time when such thoughts were, how should I put this kindly, revolutionary at best.”

        “So I suppose you all take your name from him than?” Twilight guessed.

        Johann nodded his head at her hurriedly. “Exactly my dear, right on the mark. In fact, before the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth’s sad end a few decades ago, a constitution based on his writings was fully passed by the Polish Sejm. But that didn’t work well at all in the end. Long story short, her neighbors did not like that in the least, which is why there’s no Poland today.”

        Adolphe looked saddened especially by this. “Ah yes, sweet Poland. Proudest people in all of Europe, you could call the Poles, especially that Poniatowski.”

        “Poniatowski! Oh dear god indeed, such a brave soul was not seen in Europe before him, and Maréchal Ney almost countered him in bravery!” Johann agreed.

        That definitely caught the interest of the two. Twilight had barely known of Poland before, and Charles was simply uninterested, but that huge bit of knowledge had gained both their interest. The very mention of ‘Marshal Ney,’ a man who he knew from his scant info to be a servant of his father, kindled his interest from a small spark, into a blazing inferno.  “So you’re saying you prefer a more peaceful solution?” Twilight asked.

        “Exactly Fraulein. Unlike these folk, who would rather all of Europe descend into rabid infighting between the two races, and stability shattered. Thank god they’re a minute presence at best...”

        “Minute for now at least!” Himmelswächter continued, “But one day, the National Pegasi Liberation Front will-”

        “Wait, wasn’t it the Republican Front for Pony Liberation?” Fellfohlen interrupted with a suspicious eye.

        “Ah, yes, yes, totally! I mean, we wouldn’t want just Pegasi to be liberated or anything, right?” the Pegasus nervously answered.

        “You’re already ‘free’ though, in that the decent pegasi that don’t serve in the forces spend their time in the sky. There’s nothing to be free from!” Antoine said with ragged breath.

        “I believe these folks have trop de zèle.” Twilight whispered.

        “I would say it’s actually trop d’audace.” Charles replied in the same hushed tones.

        Himmelswächter glared at him darkly, especially when he saw his uniform. “Oh, of course a neger-umwerbender Ziegenknutscher like you would support the humans. What did you do to earn that uniform mule, screw a few nobles?” he mocked.

        A hushed gasp fell on all listeners. Fellfohlen looked divided on whether to look horrified or triumphant at his comrades words, and Antoine’s students, well at least Charles, looked stunned. Twilight simply looked perplexed at just what that meant at all in this context, goat-cuddling especially.  Antoine himself was stone-faced, before giving the pegasi the a look so threatening, tingles of pure, unbridled fear spread down the pegasi’s spine. “Bravery.” was all the major said, keeping his gaze strong all the while.

Soon though, Charles was boiling with rage at the gall of such words. “How dare you!?” he spat out, feeling disgust well within him, “How dare you insult this stallion, this stallion who has from all that I have seen of him served with honor and a special distinction to his nation. How dare you make such claims when you are content to stand there and complain, how dare you act in a most uncivil manner towards someone who only wished to mediate between arguing parties, how dare you!”

His voice had an ever rising passion to it, and gained him approving looks from Twilight and the other two humans. Antoine ended his fearsome gaze, giving Charles a grateful look. “Danke dir, mein student.” he thanked.

        Himmelswächter looked unsure of what to do for a moment, before looking indignant once more. “Just who are you to be talking back to me like that, boy?” was his reply.

        “Simple,” the prince answered confidently, “I am Prince Imperial Napoléon François Joseph Charles Bonaparte, rightful heir to the throne of France. And unless you wish to earn my ire, and that of my dear friend hear along with my own, you will apologize to this colt right now.”

        While his words struck a cord with his teacher, even if he was a bit scared by the usage of his given name, Himmelswächter looked only more angered by this comment. “Not at all. Why should I believe some spoiled brat who’s only talking big? No, you and the rest of these cronies will get out of here now, before I make you get out.” the pegasi stomped a hoof on the ground to accentuate his point.

        Twilight was getting sick of this colts rudeness, and decided to voice her just complaints. “What? You want us to leave, because we’re not just letting you be rude to our teacher, and more importantly, our friend? Forgive me if that doesn’t make any sense at all.” Twilight said with biting sarcasm.

        Fellfohlen felt Himmelswächter knock one of his forehooves with his own, a motion for assistance. “Whatever. But he means it though,” at Himmelswächter’s glare he changed his words, “I mean, we mean it, if you don’t get out that is!”

        While his pegasi friend nearly banged a hoof against his muzzle in frustration at Fellfohlen’s inability to elaborate his point at all, Charles and Twilight looked prepared to argue against them further, with Johann and Adolphe growing more and more cross as well. Antoine silenced all their future protest though with a single comment. “Fine, if you’re going to go so far to ruin an otherwise splendid day, I see no reason to continue making it more so.”

        Turning away, he trotted towards the door, his students left dumbfounded at his action. “Come on you two, we’re leaving. The day’s nearly over anyway, might as well not waste it here where we’re not wanted.” the major called back to them without turning.

        The two looked conflicted, especially so, exchanging a few muted and worried glances before following behind him. “Antoine, what are you doing? Are you just going to let him do that to you, let him insult your honor like that?” Charles said, demanding an answer from him.

        Twilight, while less angry at him for leaving, was still aching to know what he intended. “I have to agree with him sir, we’re just letting him win. Shouldn’t we, I don’t know, not do that?” she questioned almost irritably.

        Antoine stopped for a moment, just before he reached the door. He sighed sullenly, feeling a small headache come over him at their persistence, preparing to explain in detail to them why he was doing this. “And what would staying there do? It would only lead to an escalation of conflict, and at worst a fight that might end in someone, God forbid it be one of you two, being hurt. Seeing as that colt’s asinine behavior spoilt the whole mood of the place, I felt no need to stay there any longer.”

        They considered this carefully, a gesture that Antoine found very pleasing. It made him feel not so scheiße as a teacher, at the very least. “Just remember, sometimes it’s better to take a small withdrawal, to prevent bigger losses.” he elaborated further, putting it in terms he knew Charles would appreciate more.

        A loud cough drew their attention to the bar stand, where Bernd looked at them apologetically. “Sorry about that major,” Bernd said, his voice raspy and hollow, “If you want, I can get those two out of here for you. I may be old, but I can deal with some troublemakers like them with ease.”

        Antoine shook his head at the offer. “Nein, I’d rather not. There’s been enough trouble caused already, I’d rather not cause anymore. Especially when things seem to be getting hotter now.”

        That last sentence was spoke as he caught sight of the table once more, seeing the two humans finally copy him and leave in ending tolerance, making the pegasi look awfully smug with himself. “Hmph,” the barkeep grunted, “If you say so. But take this at least.”

        He reached behind his counter for a moment, before pulling out something concealed within a fist. Making a throwing gesture, Bernd tossed a few shiny objects towards him, which Antoine caught quite handily with his tail. “For not being able to finish your drinks.” he told the major.

        Angling his head to see just what he had caught, Antoine was pleasingly surprised to find that it was the coins he had given him earlier. “Danke, mein Freund.” he told him, before leaving with students in tow.

        They exited after that, out into the outside where an orange sky now resided above them. “It’s getting late. Let’s head back to the palace.” Antoine said with no room for argument.

        Not as if they would argue anyway. Instead they nodded in compliance, making him thankful that more stress wouldn’t be added to his day. The three walked through the streets once more, but now they were more barren than before, the quickly ending day bringing many walkers and such other folk into their homes or whatever place of residence. There was a tense silence, a common occurrence between these folks, one that ended when Charles dared to ask a question that had begun to bother him. “Major, would you be offended if I press you on something?”

        “That depends on what you mean good Prinz Franz.” Antoine said without stopping or looking back.

        “You are a major, correct?” Charles began with some unsureness.

        “I believe I’ve told you this already, and even if I was not I do not believe I would be here at the moment.” Antoine deadpanned.

        “True. But I ask because, well, you are the only pony officer of such a high rank, if not the only officer as far as I am aware.” the prince elaborated further.

        “Well, you are correct on that point. I am.”

        His steady response knocked Charles off-kilter in the plain sincerity of it, making him more unsure than before whether to continue or not. To say that he did this out of malicious curiosity would be a gross disservice to him, as he was only truly curious as to the answer to this conundrum. Thankfully for him however, Twilight picked up where he left off. “But, how did you get in your position though? I mean, you know about us. Is it not it fair that we know just that much more about you?” she questioned, earning her a thankful look from her friend.

        Antoine seemed displeased at her questioning, gritting his teeth harshly and quietly, or as quietly as you could do such an act. After a moments hesitance though, he sighed, reluctantly answering her. “It was due to my birth, or the circumstances of it anyway.”

        They continued walking, turning the corner on another building as the three neared further and further towards their destination. “I was born somewhere around Zürich, about 30 so years ago. During the War of the Second Coalition in fact. As far as I know, my parents served in the k.u.k Armee, and died during the siege of said city. On some good fortune on my own part, the commander of the force, Archduke Karl von Österreich-Teschen, took pity on my state, and gave me a decent education and a full military career based on his own recommendation. Seeing as he is the brother of our current Kaiser, his influence helped me greatly, and practically sent me soaring past boundaries nopony had ever even seen before. My skills have been recognized due to his endless generosity, something for which I am eternally grateful towards him. Yet, it has caused me some amount of criticism from certain members of both species, ponies for my support towards the current establishment, and humans for me being daring to ‘get out of my place,’ as it were.” he explained dutifully.

        His words brought forth a wave of sympathy from his students, though only Twilight was caring enough to show it. “Oh major, I’m sorry for asking, I did not mean to offend you or anything...” she apologized.

        “No apologies needed dear Fraulein. It felt rather decent to get that off my chest. Probably just like how Prinz Franz felt when he could say his real name.”

        Charles instantly felt on edge. Despite his growing trust of the major, he still worked for Metternich. And if said Kanzler knew he was defiant enough to still use his regnal name in public, well, that would not be good at all for him. Or Twilight, causing an icy feeling to come over his heart. Antoine seemed to be knowledgeable about his woes, as he assuaged them instantly. “Don’t worry, I have no intention of telling the Kanzler anything. After the balls you showed today boy, you earned that I think.” he said with a boisterous laugh.

        The prince felt rather... warmed at that, oddly enough. It was a kind gesture, one that promised much reward to the major if he turned him in, but instead he did not. It was strange as to why he would do it, even when Charles stood up for him, but than again Charles never considered himself an expert in reading human emotions. Or pony emotions in this case, but weren’t they both the same at heart? That led to another line of deliberate thought, one that continued while the major spoke further. “And just for that act of graciousness, I have an offer you, and possibly Twilight, might readily like.” the major offered with an unseen, slanted smile.

        The curiosity of both of them was immediately piqued once more. “That depends major. What are you offering?” Twilight asked with a daringly cheeky smile from her.

        “Oh, that spirit Twilight, I like it from you! Bring it out more lass and you could conquer the whole world with your will alone in a month!” he barked out a haughty laugh before continuing, “But you Charles? I absolutely know you will be interested, very interested.”

        The prince rubbed his chin in thought for a moment before responding. A second of this concluded in him shrugging his shoulders fitfully. “You sound almost salacious in nature major. It’s kind of creepy in all honesty, but I shall bite on your bait all the same.” he replied.

        “Good that you should. It is a topic of great interest of yours especially Charles, and for good reason! After all, this topic is one of great personal value to you.” the major almost teased with the playfulness of his tone.

        Charles rolled his eyes, rightfully so in his own opinion, and pressed him further. “Your lures are starting to get old in usage major. Perchance you can tell us both at last what it is you speak of, before the sun grows old and wretched and has the moon come to take its place.”

        “I would love to Charles, and after that I shall bid you two adieu, seeing as we are home at last.”

        Twilight and Charles saw that they were in fact ‘home’, the entrance to be more specific. So lost were they in the conversation they did not realize they had arrived in such short time at all. “You certainly know how to keep us interested major.” Twilight said with a hints of both snark and bewilderment.

        Antoine smirked succinctly from in front of her, gazing upwards at the palace while he did so. ‘These kids sure do add some spice to life, I do admit,’ he thought to himself. Turning back to them at last, being almost blinded by the last vestiges of sunlight shining past the the large buildings in the city proper, he answered her. “That I surely hope I do dear Twilight, for if I do not what use am I as an educator of such starling minds as you two?” he put a touch of humor in his tone, in only good nature of course.

        “As much as your humor may amuse me in practices such as this major, just what is it that you were talking about?” Charles asked again, feeling his patience run thin at last.

        “Ah yes, I do suppose I should teach you a bit. But alas! it is too late for now. Do not fret though, I see you hasten in anger, but have patience dear Prinz Franz, for me even humoring what I have in mind has possibly dire consequences for all of us here.” Antoine warned him.

        Charles nearly blew a gasket at his words, feeling a burst of anger rush through his almost-pallid frame. But the majors next few words stopped all his anger and possibly murderous plans in an instant. “Tomorrow though, I shall be sure to begin our lessons on your father. Would that be arousing to you my dear student, a valid way to gain your interest and plaudit?” Antoine temptingly spoke.

        Any further barks or howls of disapproval died in his throat at the offer Charles imagined never would come to him so soon, and of his teacher’s own volition at that! Contemptuous illness took a horrid time to appear though, as he felt ill suddenly, cold as well, deathly cold. Taking his silence as a most pleasing loss of words at this good news, Antoine began to leave, passing them by while whistling a delightful tune to himself, before yelling back “Goodbye you two! I cannot wait to begin our most glorious lesson tomorrow! And thank you for the, admittedly noxious at times, yet still splendid day! Gute Nacht!” he shouted, before departing at last.

        Twilight watched him leave with a sallow expression, yet she found some joy from all this. “Wow, did you hear that Charles? We’re going to learn about your dad! Isn’t that just great?” she joyously proclaimed, hoping to share with him in his inevitable merriment.

        Charles did not answer, strangely enough to her, instead only standing there. His breathing was slightly ragged in nature, and his skin has beads of sweat dripping off of it. A great pain ached in his forehead, and he pressed a hand to said place with a heavy pressure. “Charles?” she asked, getting worried now.

        Swallowing a deep breath, he at last answered her, forcing himself through the aching pain that resided within every inch of his body at the moment. “Yes, wonderful indeed.” he answered.

        Oh it was not wonderful, at least not in the current circumstances. Here at last, he would have a chance to learn of his father, and his body had decided to slowly continue to destroy itself in a miserable haste. Oh dear God, how he hated his body. It was a slovenly mess of muscle that refused to grow, no matter his efforts. He hated it so! But he could save his hate for now, save it for when Twilight was not around, for she was nowhere near deserving of any scorn near her presence. Twilight did not look convinced in the least by this, and voiced her concerns. “Are you okay? You look a little... ill.” she said with carefully chosen words.

        A disapproving grunt told her enough of how much he liked that question. “I am perfectly fine mein Liebchen.” he answered steadily.

        She gave him a pointed look at that. “You don’t look fine. Are you sure you don’t want to talk to a doctor or anything-”

        “I am fine.”

        Hateful silence dragged its way over them, as Twilight looked awkwardly down at her hooves, while Charles beat himself up internally for being so cruelly steadfast. A few memories of what occurred today reared its ugly head at the moment, giving him a thankful diversionary question. “Didn’t you want to talk with me about some topics that came up today before we went our separate ways?” he asked just a bit hastily.

        As tempting as that was to her at the moment, she shook her head to him. “We can talk tomorrow. I’d rather you get some rest.” she replied honestly.

        Her stout kindness, even in the face of his constant refusals, touched him. Though he would never admit it to anyone, least of all her, it warmed his heart ever so slightly at the decent act. Twilight was such a kind creature, too kind for this world he thought sometimes. It was a never-ending source of thought for him, how she could stay so deliberately perfect even in the face of all the adversity and ugliness the world offered her, and despite his own deliberations on this, he could never find an answer, to his own anger. When facing such a simple request from her, made only from decent intentions and goodwill towards him, well, he had no other choice but to accept. “If you wish Liebchen. Until tomorrow then?”

        “Until tomorrow.” she answered sweetly.

        As they departed from each other at last, footsteps and hooves marching their ways up to their separate abodes. they stopped suddenly when they were more than a few feet away from the other. They turned, almost at the same time, towards their friend, and in the orange twilight of the sky, smiled at one another. Their expressions were full of nothing but understanding and caring for one another. And as they finally turned away, for the final time that day, they were content.

---

        December 26, 1826 Anno Domini

There was a warm feeling on his neck. It was a calming feeling, almost peaceful in fact. If it was any other day, he was almost sure he would rather enjoy that feeling, the feeling brought on by the warm naked body next to his own. Yet as it was, he preferred to read yet another book on Caesar than enjoy things as they were. That was how it was right now, when he still was irritable and quite angered from a another spat with his grandfather. It had happened at a smaller family gathering yesterday, when he had brought up to his grandfather again the topic of his promotion, or more specifically, when it would come. He almost demanded an immediate transfer to the borders, somewhere he could escape the slow dullness of this palace, and even take Twilight with him, for surely she was as numbed to this place as he was!

        His grandfather had other ideas however. Listening to his words carefully, save when Charles himself had to admit he had pressed too far, he had sharply declined his demands, and harangued him severely in private after it was over. It was a source of great discontent to him, and he had wanted to lash out his frustrations in someway. Twilight was obviously not the answer. Thankfully, he had found Sophie at that gathering as well, and after she had made up a plausible excuse, well, they found their way here.

        Sophie shifted her leg next to him, putting her leg over one of his own. His eyes gazed with great annoyance on the added pressure to his body, and he shook it off roughly. This had the undue effect of waking the women lying naked on his bed with a low moan. “Franz?” she mumbled.

        He flipped to another page before answering. “What do you want?”

        To his own ever-increasing annoyance, she huddled up closer to him. “That was great.” she mumbled pleasingly.

        “I suppose so.” he answered simply.

        In all honesty to himself, he felt ashamed in taking such pleasure from such dubious acts. Not from the fact that she was already wed, oh he could not care less about that honestly, but from the rather carnal urges it aroused within him. He preferred constant control of his body, as much as he could control it in his sometimes wretched state at least, and her seductive qualities were hated by him severely, almost as much as he lusted after them. Truly they had worked at a mutually beneficial arrangement, one that they could both use to fix their own emotional instability while silently hating themselves on the inside. A truly excellent relationship.

        “Would you kindly get off of me now?” he asked, still glaring at her offending presence.

        She groaned loudly, shaking herself off of him and laying her head on her palm. Sophie stared at him wordlessly, though he did not return her look in the least. He had more important things than post-sex talk, thank you very much! It was only when she reached for a certain area that he put the book down at last and directed his attentions towards her. “Yes?”

        “Where are my clothes?”

        That was a very good question actually. He scanned the room, finding her dress and other objects of interest nowhere at all. Thankfully his coat was on the stand of his bed. His thankfulness of this fact grew tenfold when a large knock sounded at the door. “Prinz Franz, are you awake?” the unmistakable old croak of Mortiz howled from behind the door.

        “Oh scheiße.” they both whispered at once.

        ‘Damn, wasn’t Mortiz supposed to visit later?’ Charles cursed internally. He has scheduled a visit in his quarters with the Count a few days ago, at the Counts own insistence and Twilight’s due to ‘not spending enough time together’ in the latter’s own words. But it seemed the Count was a bit early, to his own bad luck. He would have to be fast if he did not want to get in deep, deep trouble for this misdemeanor. Quickly jumping out of his bed, Charles put on his black coat with all due haste, buttoning it with practiced fingers. “What do I do?” Sophie whispered worriedly while he did this.

        Charles scoured the room once more, looking for someplace where Sophie could hide. If it was revealed he was having an affair to one of the current heirs to the throne, well, he would be fucked. More than he already was in fact. Thankfully he had moved to a slightly larger suite in the last year, to make room for his growing room of collectibles and weapons, including a fine set of Italian rapiers de Foresti had sent to him from his post, that now hung on the wall to adorn the place.

 The main object of his interest though was a large chest at the foot of his bed, one that usually housed his spare clothing and such. Right now though it was empty, the clothes being cleaned by the servants, making it fit his plans perfect. Buttoning his last button, Charles opened the hood to the chest, pointing at it for Sophie. “Get in!” he shouted as silently as he could in such relatively small quarters.

        “What?!” she replied, having a certain amount of well-justified shock.

        “Just get in, before-”

        “Prinz Franz, please answer me, dammit!” Mortiz howled, this time with a series of loud knocks at the door.

        “Coming Count, I’m just dressing!” Charles shouted back, motioning towards the chest in an increasingly worried manner.

        Seeing no other option, and despite her own rather deep sensibilities, Sophie complied, almost rolling off the bed as she got off of it. Tip-toeing towards the chest so as not to alert the Count of another presence in his room, Sophie took one disgusted look at the inside of the chest before he gave her a rueful look, and she entered, fitting in the enclosure just barely due to her petite size. On the plus side, to Charles at least, he had gotten a good eyeful of her before he had closed the chest. Muttering a series of half-serious prayers, Charles opened the door to his room at last, showing him the sight of a very grouchy Count. “Prinz Franz, excellent to see you at!” Mortiz took a look downward before continuing, “Though I wish you had spent a bit more time dressing.”

        Blushing deeply, Charles was about to apologize before Mortiz shoved his way through him. “Ah don’t worry, nothing I haven’t seen before with the rest of the boys. Trust me lad, in the military you will see that a lot. A whole lot.” Mortiz said.

        Charles wasn’t sure if it was his tone, or the actual content of what he said, but he was unnerved greatly by the Counts words. While he stood there, very disturbed by both his words and the sincere impropriety of the situation, Mortiz took a seat at the lone table in the room, a small oak thing with two chairs for guests. “Well come on boy, are you going to make the old man who’s wasting his morning on you?” the Count asked in a fit.

        Complying with him, Charles sat down on the other seat, but not before closing his uniform up a bit. Resting his elbows on the table, Charles greeted the Count with a forced smile. “So Count, what was it that you wished to speak about?”

        The major shrugged his shoulders in apathy. “Things.”

        “Things? What things? What things need to be asked at this dreadful time of day?”

        “Numerous things. Important things. Things that demand possibly a bit more of a welcome than your sergeant laid out for me when I entered. But I digress, yes I am here to converse with you about some delicate topics.”

        “Such as?”

        “Twilight.”

        The prince’s eyes were set low at that remark, earning the Count a low hum of unknown feeling. “What of her?” Charles asked further.

        Mortiz eyed some of the weapons and books in the room, nodding approvingly at them. Charles tapped the table in an impatient motion, directing the Count’s rampant attention back to him. “As I said, what of her?” he asked again with an angered tone.

        The eyes of the Count, he noticed, were lidded, almost as if he did not have enough sleep in fact. The whole manner of the Counts body bespoke of endless woes and creeping pains that ached him constantly.  It almost pained Charles to see that the effects of age were so visible at times, especially on this man who he had spent a better part of his life around. Than again, he himself was an example of the decrepit state of being that was life at times, with his on and off ailments. “Forgive me my errant student, these old bones get lost in thought sometimes. As I was beginning to say though, I am worried about Twilight’s current abode.”

        “And? She’s stocked up well for the winter, is she not?”

        Charles thought that he and Antoine had made sure that Twilight was more than ready to stand up to the snowy days and nights that now pervaded the skies and ground of the city. Already a thick sheet of snow had covered almost all visible ground, prompting him into ordering several blankets and other supplies to ensure her safety and comfort during these times. He was sure that they had fully prepared for this winter, and he had heard no complaints from Twilight in the past few weeks about her residence. What could possibly be wrong? He voiced these complaints, and Mortiz answered them gruffly. “That’s what I thought as well, but I believe the snow has become so dense around her place that it’s almost choking in its density. Antoine voiced his complaints as well.”

        This was cause for much concern for Charles, who was getting deathly worried at this news. “I’ve heard nothing of this. Surely Twilight would’ve voiced some complaints if it was truly as offensive as you described?” he reasoned.

        “Ah, but Twilight is a mare who doesn’t care for troubling others with her problems. She’s almost totally withdrawn save for her contact with you, considering the general disdain most of the household holds for her. A shame, she deserves better, though that could be said for most of her life.” Mortiz admitted with a deep scowl.

        The prince put a hand to his mouth, seeing the problem now. Twilight would surely insist she was fine, even when she was not. Another trait of hers that placed her on an even higher pedestal than he already put her. Action would need to be taken though, and quickly. Preferably on Mortiz’s part, seeing as he had a not so little problem waiting for him to solve. “Confront her about this. No, wait, get some of the staff, order them to wait around, and when you confront her, get her to leave to talk inside, and while you talk the staff will fix up the place. Simple as that.” Charles explained.

        Mortiz nodded in approval, finding it a decent plan. There was another matter that bothered him though. “Sounds good than. Though speaking of Twilight, her behavior as of late is some cause of concern. I see her reading some religious texts, even the Holy Book, and she shakes her muzzle in disapproval or has questioning eyes when reading them. Do you know what has caused her into such acts?” the Count said, voicing his complaints.

        Oh dear. He knew that would come back to bite him in the ass sooner or later. After their day on the town with Antoine, if it could even be called that, Twilight was quite keen on learning about some of the aspects of the spiritual nature of society, knowing only some bare bones facts before yet still intent to know. What she found... disappointed her. While some tenets of various faiths were pleasing in her eyes, she was disappointed to find no mention of her fair Princesses. As much as Charles ignored that complaint, she still took issue with all sorts of things. ‘Why is this not allowed?’, ‘Why does this book call for war with different faiths?’, and so on. Charles asked her if she was an atheist at her issues with theology, yet she ardently refused, stating she knew her God already. From experience in fact.

        Deluded as she seemed to the prince at times, Charles could not help but find some degree of logic in her reasoning. She shared many questions he had brought up in the past, yet they were always hushed down or explained in ways he did not care for in the least. Catholicism was less of a choice of faith and more of a lifestyle in House Hapsburg, and it showed in their religious lifestyle.  While he did not consider himself an atheist, the idea of no creator at all being both repugnant and terrifying existentially to his being, deism certainly held its temptations to him, though he did not dare show them towards anyone else. There was a time for bravery, and there were numerous times for keeping ones head down after all.

        “I’m not sure Count. Perhaps she is just having some trouble understanding things? She is a relative stranger to our land, and even with her years of adjustment, certain things we take for granted would come off as downright queer to her.”

        Mortiz did not look all that appeased by that suggestion, but he did not feel the strength to argue anymore than what was necessary. “I suppose I will have to accept that. Nonetheless, I shall be off then-”

        “Oh hi Prinz Franz, I was just here to... Count Mortiz?” a certain major spoke.

        Looking at the source of the voice, the two found Antoine standing by the doorway, with a strange covered package on his backside, seeing the half-dressed Charles and having bulging eyes in response. “This is certainly an awkward situation.” Antoine said to himself.

        Mortiz could only laugh at that, while Charles groaned irritably. This was starting to get ridiculous now! “Major, what are you doing here?” Charles asked, letting more than a bit of annoyance slip through into his tone.

        “Oh, me? I came here to deliver a package for you, one that just arrived today in fact. The servants were going to take it, but seeing as it was near the way I was headed, that is to Twilight’s hut, I found it agreeable to take it for them.” Antoine explained with no detectable hint of falsehood.

        “Excellent. Just... excellent,” the prince smiled as if it was made of cardboard, “If you could, please drop that package off here and escort Count Mortiz to his destination, which just so happens to coincide with your own. Would you kindly?”

        “I would love to sire, but first I should probably explain to you what it is,” Antoine eyed Mortiz warily before looking back at him, “In private.”

        Wanting to get this over with, Charles waved Mortiz towards the door. The Count grumbled for a moment before complying, giving them both a hasty farewell as he said so. “So just what is it you have that requires this interruption?” Charles demanded to know.

        Antoine looked almost sheepish as he answered. “I’m afraid I do not have the specifics my student, yet if it’s what I think it is, and I am almost assured it is that, then I believe you will be most pleased.”

        This had to be good than. Antoine never made such a suggestion without some meat lying behind the words. He could still remember their first lesson on his father after their day out, and by god. They had barely covered anything Antoine had mentioned having true importance yet, the time and nature of their of their dealings being considerably sparser as of late, but nonetheless what he had learned so far only made him want more.

Austerlitz. Marengo. Borodino. These names, being little more than locations earlier, had taken up a sort of quasi-life of their own, filling his mind with images of thousands if not tens of thousands of soldiers in combat, and his father at the apex of it all. The images alone his mind conjured up were enough to make him nigh deliriously with a mix of nostalgia and burning curiosity that drove him to impeccable joy. A joy he had only truly found before in the presence of his books, or, more importantly, his dearest friend.

So if Antoine was suggesting what he thought he was suggesting, well, his curiosity grew tenfold in a moments notice, if it took even that long. “Bring it on the table than, I’ll have great pleasure in seeing just what this is.”

Antoine complied, stepping closer to the table, and, being careful not to accidentally crush anything under his hooves, shrugged his package off onto the table with severe tenderness. As Charles wrapped his fingers around it, taking not of it’s long yet abnormally thick structure and delicate wrapping. It was simple in structure, with creased edges, plain colored packaging and whatnot. As he delicately plucked it open, daring to try and find some peek as to what was his inside as it opened up more and more, Antoine launched some very important information his way. “It’s from your mother, you know.”

That bit of news almost immediately caused him to cease his assault on the packaging. His hands felt cold suddenly, and a blank expression crossed his features. “I see.” he said in a neutral tone.

“Is there a problem with that?”

“In a sense, yes.”

“Would you be offended if I asked further?”

“I would.”

Antoine sighed at the futility of it. “Fine, but just because you have certain problems with her does not mean you should not deny her graciousness. Especially concerning what’s inside.”

He had a point, Charles had to admit. While his fingers trembled with indecision, undecided as to whether to continue unwrapping it or throw it away in a fit of petulant fury, Antoine spoke further. “It’s from his company. I know that much.” he informed him.

That was all the push Charles needed. Grabbing it again, he shook off the last of the packaging, and was utterly blown at what he saw. There were two things lying under the hard wrapping. First, a collection of books, more collections of notes really, set in plain-colored covers with no distinguishing features on them. It was the visible title of the top one that truly gained his interest though.

Recollections of the Emperor Napoléon

By God. It was almost enough to make him tear at very sight of it. The thoughts and words of his father, translated into print... he nearly collapsed on the spot from the sheer excellence of the situation. But even joy was severely outweighed by the other item there. It was a blade, in a black sheathe that had several gold and brown patterns on it. Charles looked at Antoine in an almost pleading manner, and Antoine nodded at him. Finding that all the extra force he needed, he put his hands under the blade, lifting it up in a delicate manner that trumped any display of carefulness he had shown before.

Keeping one hand on the blade portion to hold it up, Charles used his other hand to grasp the golden hilt of the blade. He pulled it out slowly, taking care to deliberate on each second he saw more and more of the sword shine through. When he pulled it out fully, it was a sight to behold. The scheme of the sword was almost scimitar-like in nature, with a long, narrow and not so curved blade that was divine in every manner to him. “Was it his?” Charles asked breathlessly.

“Aye, ‘twas his. It’s a Mameluke sword, used during his campaign in Egypt.” Antoine told him.

“It’s beautiful.” he whispered more to himself than to Antoine, studying every edge of the blade in mind-numbing detail.

He had meant his words too. While the books were a treasure he was joyous beyond words to receive, this, this was an object of even greater value. It was a living memory of his father, of the one man he valued above all others. He tenderly held the sword in an almost, nay, in a holy manner befit for a divine relic of bygone days. That this sword, that was in his very hands, used to belong to his father, used to be held at his fathers side, used to pierce the hearts of his father’s enemies! That was a fact that stormed all through the prince’s brain, and made him all the more reverent in his treatment of the blade.

He could imagine already the details of wherein it was held, in the shining deserts of Egypt, hordes of cavalry coming his fathers way in an unstoppable wave. Then, with a series of ingenious commands he would have brushed them off as if they were nothing more than dust in the wind. A true triumph of force and intellect, one that appealed to his needy mind greatly. It was glorious, glorious beyond all known words to him.

“Your mother requested it be sent to you. She said you would appreciate it, and so she sent it over to you.” Antoine elaborated further for him.

A slight tremble in his smirk was the only effect that news had on Charles. He rolled his words through his brain, trying to find a decent response to that. Finally he thought of a suitable, if distasteful answer. “Tell her... she has my deepest gratitude for this.” he forced out through gritted teeth.

“I’ll be sure to inform the messenger of that.” Antoine paused, before continuing in a cautious voice. “Prinz... whatever grudge you hold against your mother, I would prefer you let it go. If not for her sake, than for your own.”

Charles felt a sharp urge to tell the colt off, but he ignored it. He deserved far too much respect to even think of doing such a thing, one of the few to earn such a praise from the normally arrogant boy. That didn’t mean he had to shake his pride though. “I shall think of it.” Charles conceded, neither denying nor agreeing to the proposal.

Antoine sighed, realizing this would be the best he could get with the prince, vainly as he was. “Excellent. Until then, do you wish to visit Twilight with me?”

It was a tempting offer, Charles had to admit. Especially after the decrepit state Mortiz described her quarters as. But right now, there was something far more desirable waiting for him, right in front of his eyes. No, Twilight could wait for another time. Right now, his father, or at least the last words of his father, were there waiting for him to read. “No major, I am content where I am currently. Give Twilight my best regards though.” he said with a small trace of guilt.

While he did have some remorse over this, he was confident in his decision. Surely Twilight would understand. She, after all, had little left of her parents, and she would know the need to keep them close in some form. They had spoken of their respective pasts numerous times now, and he had gained numerous sympathies towards her for what little she had left to keep her parents in mind. At least he had now had something. She, had nothing. But at least she cared for both of her parents. While the one he loved was dead, and the other enraptured within the arms of a new man before his fathers corpse was cold. The very thought of it made his blood boil.

Antoine seemed very displeased at his choice though, and let his concerns show. “Are you sure Prinz Franz? I’m sure she would love to see you again.”

“I am fine Antoine. Leave me, as I said already, I am content where I am.” he almost snapped back.

“... Fine sire. See you later.”

Charles could not hide the hurt feeling he held at the majors almost scornful words, while hearing the soft clop of his hooves signaling his departure from the room. Over the past few months, he had come to see Antoine as a respectable figure, someone to look up to. To Charles, with barely any reasonable and trustworthy authority figures that were not practically ancient in age, Antoine filled a decently-sized hole in his mental needs. Antoine taught him with passion, with care, with a true love of what his students learned. And Charles loved him for it.

But now, he was alone. Again in fact. He took another loving look at his father’s... no his sword. He had not taken any lessons in fencing or sword-fighting yet, but now he would have to. Simply to use this blade, to use this weapon as his father had. Oh, and he should probably get Sophie out of his chest as well. God knows how she was doing in there. Just as soon as he was done admiring the blade some more...

“Well well, what do we have here?”

A poisonous voice lurched out from nowhere, robbing Charles from his attentions. Slowly turning to the source of the voice, Charles’ joy was immediately dismantled at the sight of Metternich, leaning on the doorway with an inquisitive look on his features. “Excellent sword you have there Prinz Franz. I must say, some quality craftsmanship there.” Metternich casually said.

Slipping into a frown, Charles sheathed the blade, feeling almost offended that the Kanzler’s eyes were looking at his blade, his fathers blade! “Kanzler. What brings you to my quarters all of a sudden?” Charles greeted in false kindness.

Metternich waved a hand in a playful manner, pretending to mull over the answer. “Oh, just making sure you are doing well. I heard you had a decent package come for you, and I must admit, it is a very delectable looking metal. Your mother brought it for you, correct?”

Charles tightened his grip on the hilt of the sword without knowing it. “That is true, she did. Now if you would be so kind, I am busy at the moment, and-”

Metternich ignored those protests, instead barging into the room and taking the seat where Mortiz once sat, sitting opposite him now. He eyed the books analytically, appraising them with a bemused smile. “Ah, memoirs from your father? Good reads most likely, I am sure that you will enjoy them thoroughly.” the Kanzler’s spoke with only good intentions visible.

Charles’ suspicions were growing ever larger at this rate. “Forgive me for my forwardness Kanzler, but what do you wish to do here?”

The air of false civility was getting to him, but he could hold for now. He had too, Metternich was a veteran of one of the greatest arts of war, diplomacy, by many decades, so he had to keep a sharp mind to even think of besting him. Metternich though simply chuckled in a low tone, seemingly amused by his concerns. “Oh Prinz Franz, why must you think I have some nefarious plot in motion against you?” Metternich said after suppressing his mirth.

“One does not simply go into ones room without due cause. Whether it be good intentions or not, there are still intentions.”

“Ah, but you assume I come here only to plague you, as it were. Do you know why you think that, Prinz Franz?”

Metternich seemed like he wanted him to question that, and despite the obvious lure, Charles answered the call. “What, may I ask?”

“Simple. I am an excuse for you. A villain to blame all your woes and problems on without so much as thinking it is your own fault.” Metternich eyed him sharply, a gaze so sharp it nearly overwhelmed Charles in its intensity.

“While you may have certain ailments and problems in life, know that I do none of the things I have planned around you out of malice. I only due what is best for the Reich, and what is best for my liege. If that includes, say, doing my best to bring down a revolutionary leader who desired to destroy all order in Europe, and doing my best to insure said leader’s son turns out to be a respectable member of the Reich’s court after his fall, instead of simply leaving him to rot, well, can I truly be called a villain than?”

Charles was left speechless at the Kanzler’s passionate speech, and while he had no words to say, Metternich spoke for him. “I know what I am to you. A bland, two-dimensional character to act as the villain in the absence of a true one like in your tales of valor and whatnot. Let me tell you young man, that nothing could be further from the truth. I do what is necessary for my nation, as all decent men would hope to do. If my methods are dark in nature because of it, well, let it be than.”

Charles only digested these words. While his first instinct was to not believe them in the least, the Kanzler had a certain charm to him past the oozing snake-like behavior that came off from him, one that inspired listeners to consider his words. “Do you know who asked and permitted your mother to send you these items?” Metternich asked, motioning towards his dear treasures on the table.

At Charles’ tentative nod, Metternich continued. “It was me,” Charles nearly shouted a cry of derision at that sure falsity, until Metternich raised an open hand to stop him, “Do not cry accusations of derision to me young man. I thought you would be more interested in life outside of that unicorn if you had some items of interest outside of her presence and company, and so I, in an act befit of kindness, bestowed upon your mother the need to transfer some ‘family’ items towards yourself.”

“You surely lie. You king of lies, you Prinz of darkness!” Charles growled out, hands tightened into a deathly grip.

If anything his words seemed to amuse Metternich more so. “I am a Prinz alright, but not of darkness I’m afraid. Only one who seeks what is best for his nation, even if a few must be displeased along the way, no matter how much you do for them. It is simply a fact those in power must accept, when we are seen having only the worst aspects of tyrants, even when we do our best not to do so.”

Metternich’s last sentence almost had a regretful tone, an emotion Charles never expected to see from the Eisen Kanzler. The Kanzler shook his head in a small motion, putting his hands to the edge of the table before rising himself from the his seat. “I am afraid sire that I must leave now. Oh, and do forgive your Opa for his refusal to send you out to the border. He only has his best interest out for you after all.” at that Metternich could not resist sending him a cruel smirk, knowing his desires and current misanthropy at his situation.

What irked Charles the most was his inability to come up with a snappy comeback towards him as he left. Curiously, Metternich stopped once he reached the invisible line that marked the entrance to his room, angling his head around to send him one last smirk. “Oh, and Prinz Franz? Do tell Prinzessin Sophie to get out of that chest. I doubt being in there is good for one as fair as she.”

Charles was literally stunned at the Kanzler’s apparent omniscience, as right after he left Sophie pushed her way out of her hiding spot. “How in the world did he know that?” she asked while breathing deep breaths.

Still troubled by this, deeply so in fact, Charles could not find a suitable answer. “Ich habe keine Ahnung. However, now would probably be a fine time to go.” he said without any trace of sympathy.

It took him less than a second to think up a response. “Yes.”

She ceased her attempts at arousing sympathy within him, instead putting on the last button of her blouse. “Well, after such rude talk, do not expect me waiting on you for the next few weeks.”

“Fine by me.” he answered without looking at her, instead taking a long look at his sword once more.

Sophie stormed out in a fit. Not that he cared. He had far more pressing matters. Though as he reached out for one of his books, a troubled feeling came over him. Looking out the lone window of the room, he saw it was indeed quite snowy out. And assuredly cold along with it. Twilight would surely have been cold as Mortiz said, but it was only now that he thought over it fully.

Charles looked at his fathers, ‘no, not his anymore, mine,’ sword again. It was truly a beautiful blade even when sheathed. He stretched his hand towards it, until that same guilt returned once more in even greater force now. ‘These things will still be here once I return. And Twilight would enjoy my company...’ the more emotionally invested part of his mind reasoned.

That was true, but... Oh damn it, fine, he would leave for her. After these endless nuisances, surely Twilight would provide some comfort that not even these valuable objects could bring him. He pushed himself off his seat, heading towards the door till it came over him. ‘Wait, trousers,’ he thankfully thought, turning back and putting his trousers on before continuing. Satisfied, he at last left his room, headed to Twilight’s enclosure and hoping to make the most of his day with her. Yes, Twilight would make things better, she always had.

‘Besides, perhaps I could try persuading the Kaiser later. After all, he can not withstand my requests forever after all. I must only be patient. Even if it must take years.’ he mused, giving himself some confidence to be dispensed later.

After this thought passed, something welled up within him--A desire, a tugging feeling, something indescribable. The world was on the verge of a great upheaval, and he was sure that he was the one to lead it. The events of that morning had filled his mind with the faint threads of countless plans and plots with their implications. He shook his head abruptly, in need of clarity. If he wanted to get anywhere in life, he needed focus, constant focus. Some kind hand of fate would give him his chance, his chance to prove his worth to the world, and more importantly, to his father’s name. And that was the start of how he accidentally invaded the Ottoman Empire.

---

A/N-Well that’s another one down folks. Thanks for reading as usual, and thanks to all my bros who helped me with this. You know their names by now hopefully, so I won’t have to repeat them every chapter. Otherwise though, shoot me any comments in, well, the comments on the stories EqD page, along with criticism and whatnot. I hope you enjoyed some of the small things I did in this chapter, like the alternate usage of ‘bronies.’ Once again though, thanks for reading. See you all next time!

Also, holy scheiße! Someone actually made a TvTropes for this fic, at only 3 chapters at the time of its creation! It’s right here in case anyone is interested. Thanks to all you guys for making this fic as popular, it’s really great to see it get it’s own page. I am ashamedly excited at this honestly, getting a TVtropes page for one of my works always being one of my goals.