Prince Blueblood awoke as he did every day: with the rays of the noonday sun shining between the curtains of his luxurious canopy bed, lying next to an exhausted mare still flecked with the telltale foam of the previous evening’s exhilarations.

As usual, he couldn’t remember her name. Not that her name was important in the least, but it was bad form to forget and, as a prince, he had a certain noblesse oblige to the lower classes. Moreover, his confounded aunt had made it clear that if just one more mare created an embarrassing scene because of something insensitive he did (“That only happened four times!”) his sleepover privileges would be revoked permanently. In all fairness to his aunt, the last scene he caused had nearly demolished the Canterlot Ballroom during the height of the Grand Galloping Gala.

What what what was her name? She was sleeping with her back to him, so he didn’t even have her face to jog his memory. Gingerly, he stood up on his forelegs to try to look past the tangle of her mane, but the shift in weight disturbed the mare’s slumber and he retreated back to his side of the bed, feigning sleep for several seconds until he was satisfied that his guest was still snoozing.

He examined the back of her... Stripeymane? Creamed Corn? Redhair Browncoat? EarthPony Idontcare? No, no, no. That wasn’t helping! He needed some better clue and briefly wished that his aunt had approved the passage of the law he’d penned that would make it mandatory for mares to wear some sort of satchel that, at a minimum, would contain beauty products (for restoring one’s appearance after a night at a stranger’s house) and some form of identification.

Idea! Most ponies’ names were eerily coincidental with their cutie marks. Maybe hers would provide a clue! He ducked under the covers and burrowed, mole style, over to the sleeping stranger. With delicate caution, he hoisted up the covers concealing his Mystery Mare’s flank. Aaaaand her name was…

…

Some sort of blurry… ampersand? He squinted at her flank and twisted his head to try and see it right way up, but, at that moment, the mare stretched and turned over, knocking him in the chest with her hooves.

Blueblood yelped and reared reflexively, losing his balance in the process and falling backwards out of the bed. He lay on his back and stared at the ceiling for a few seconds while he waited for the ringing in his ears to dissipate. The Tan Mare Who Will Still Remain Nameless poked her head out over the side of the bed, grinning sheepishly.

“Oh! I’m so sorry, your highness!” she giggled “What were you doing under there at my flank? Are you ready to get frisky again already?”

She reached down with her forehooves and tickled his chest.

“Ah hahahaha! Oh! Stop! Stop!” Blueblood choked his pleas out between laughs.

“Beg me, beg me!” she teased, still tickling.

“Ah! N-n-no! A prince never behehehehehegs! Hee!”

“I won’t stop until you beg!”

“Ahahaha! No! Stop! I comahahahahaaaand you!”

“Ask nicely!”

“Plehehehase!”

“Please who?”

“Please… hahaha aaah! Aaaampersand!?”

The tickling stopped.

“What?”

“Ampersand?”

“Ampersand?” the Tan Pony cocked an incredulous eyebrow.

“No…” Blueblood’s eyes darted around quickly, searching for an escape route.

“What’s my name?” she asked, poking her muzzle into his.

“Umm…”

***

“Stop her, Tombs!” Blueblood yelled.

Ampersand barreled right through the tray of breakfast the mustachioed valet had been carrying as she galloped out of the room.

“My name is Amber Sands!” she huffed.

Whatever.

Blueblood galloped after her, with Tombs close behind.

“We have to stop her and calm her down before my aunt sees her!” he panted.

“Very good, Sire.” Tombs replied. Though the Prince was at full gallop, Tombs somehow managed to keep up without giving the appearance of doing more than a quick trot.

Amber hurled down the vast carpeted halls of the palace at breakneck speed, startling servants and courtiers alike in her blind flight. Blueblood nimbly leapt a cowering unicorn maid only to completely demolish her cartful of cleaning supplies.

“I’ll have somepony clean that up later!” he called back, shaking splinters and toilet paper out of his blonde locks before putting on an extra burst of speed.

Nearly caught her!

Amber Sands suddenly zagged to the right and took off down an elegant marble corridor that was all too familiar to Blueblood. He dug in his hooves and skidded to a stop, but his momentum carried him ten feet past the turn and bunched up the carpet ahead of him like an accordion.

“She’s headed for the Royal Quarters, Tombs! We have to stop her!”

Blueblood got up to full gallop again, with Tombs trotting at his heels.

***

“I don’t see why we can’t just keep the board in my room, Celestia.” groaned Princess Luna, Mare of the Night and Empress of the Moon and Stars.

“No! I told you it has to stay in neutral territory. I don’t trust you after last time.” replied Princess Celestia the Lightbringer, Lady of the Dawn and Mistress of Harmony.

“We’ve been over this, I don’t know how that cannon got into Kamchatka! It was an accident!”

“Well, maybe there will be fewer ‘accidents’ in the Royal Study.”

“Harumph.”

The two royal alicorns crossed the broad hall with grace and care. Between them was suspended a game board with dozens of pieces carefully balanced on top. The princesses moved slowly so as not to disturb the delicate placement of their armies.

***

“There she goes, Tombs!” Shouted Blueblood between hoofbeats. His heart was pounding and a white froth glistened on his meticulously groomed coat. How could this little mare keep up such a furious pace after everything they’d done last night? He must have be losing his touch. Marble statues and stained glass windows flew past in a colorful blur. Blueblood’s entire world focused on chasing that mare’s tail. No, he was too exhausted to appreciate the irony.

***

“I still can’t believe you kept this game preserved exactly as it was for a thousand years, Celestia.”

“I was devastated after your banishment, dear sister. I kept everything of yours preserved exactly as it was, but this… this was my most precious reminder of our last good time together. I remembered how we used to play together before… you know… before your… ‘episode.’”

Luna looked abashed for a moment before regaining her composure.

“ As long as I had it, I knew the good in you was still alive.” continued Celestia.

“That’s so sweet! It will mean a lot to me to finally finish it after all these centuries.”

“It will mean a lot to us.” Celestia smiled, misty tears welling up in her eyes.

A sudden commotion shattered the moment of sisterly bonding and Celestia and Luna both turned simultaneously, just in time to see a tiny, sand-colored mare charging like a bull up the hallway in their direction. She didn’t look like she was going to stop or slow down.

“LOOK OUT!” yelled Luna, her Royal Canterlot Voice echoed through the halls and blasted everypony’s eardrums.

The force of Luna’s cry got Amber Sand’s attention, but it was too late for her to change direction. Celestia and Luna raised the board up, missing the top of Amber’s mane by the breadth of a candy-colored hair. Amber tried to duck at the same second, tripping spectacularly over her own hooves and tumbling mane-over-tail into an heirloom bust of Princess Platinum, which teetered precariously on its pedestal.

The Princesses lowered the board again, examining the pieces. Everything appeared to be in its proper place. They breathed a sigh of relief.

Too soon.

A white and blonde freight train knocked both princesses to the ground and exploded the game board to smithereens. The thousand year-old cardboard couldn’t withstand the force of Blueblood’s impact; there was nothing left but tatters. Plastic army ponies scattered everywhere. Servants on their morning rounds would still stumble across the tiny figurines weeks later.

Meanwhile, Blueblood careened right into the dazed heap of Amber Sands and the bust of Princess Platinum. Time for Blueblood slowed to a crawl as he watched the heavy bust launch from its perch and sail backwards through the colossal stained glass window depicting Commander Hurricane’s victory over the Diamond Dogs in Two Fifty B.C.E.

A kaleidoscope of light danced in the air as the jagged shards of stained glass pelted the cringing prince and his one-night stand. When he finally opened his eyes, he wished he hadn’t. His auntie Celestia’s angel-white muzzle was inches from his face and the otherworldly violet of her eyes was tinged with red.

“Auntie, p-please, let me explain.” Blueblood started. Celestia silenced him with a wave of her hoof.

“Prince Blueblood Alfred William Platinum IV!”

“Yes, Auntie?”

“My idiot uncle, Blueblood the First, had an unnatural fondness for donkeys. The rest of the royal family looked the other way on his dalliances because we were reasonably sure he would never produce viable offspring. This was evidently not the case because a millennium and a half later his misbegotten progeny is still a colossal ASS!”

“B-but Auntie…”

“SILENCE!” Celestia drew a deep breath and extended her impressive wings.

Luna folded back her ears and covered them with her hooves. She knew what was coming.

Celestia almost never used the Royal Canterlot Voice, but when she did, it made Luna sound like the World “Shh” Champion. The force of her bellow shook Canterlot Mountain to its very foundations. Birds took flight for miles around and all the baby ponies in the Fillydelphia kindergarten were roused, crying, from their midday naps. Celestia’s decree rattled Blueblood’s bones and froze his blood.

“PRINCE BLUEBLOOD! FROM THIS DAY FORWARD, YOU ARE FORBIDDEN TO STUD WITH ANYPONY IN CANTERLOT!-”

“But Auntie!” Blueblood’s mouth made the words, but he couldn’t hear his own voice. His ears had gone numb. Amber Sands sobbed next to him, burying her head beneath her hooves.

“ON PAIN OF BANISHMENT!”

Blueblood bowed low to the ground and spoke. The words dropped from his lips with all the force of cotton swabs.

“As you command, your highness...”

***

Blueblood spent the rest of the day moping in his lavish apartments.

Cut off from all the mares in Canterlot!? Oh the shame! The ignominy!

Do you know how hard he had to have Tombs work to cancel all his appointments? He had foreleg candy booked out clear into the New Year! His poor valet was working to the bone contacting all of them and letting the poor things down. It was exhausting just to hear about it!

Blueblood dropped backwards onto his bed. He hadn’t felt this sorry for himself since his humiliation at the Grand Galloping Gala. His ears still hurt from Celestia’s chastisement and he ached all over from his impromptu gallop through the halls.

How could she say that about him? Descended from donkeys? What a horrible thing to say! Maybe his ears were a tad longer than average, but what did that prove? Could an “ass” have such a fine coat? Such a luxurious mane? Such an impressive horn? Celestia didn’t know what she was talking about… She’d only said those things to offend his royal sensibilities.

Still though…

And so Blueblood moped. He was so depressed that he dared something he’d never dared before: he took an inventory of his life.

All the fine trappings of his life of luxury seemed to mock him. Painful reminders that his entire family’s greatest accomplishment was and would forever be cousinhood to a pair of goddesses.

There, on the wall, was the shield borne by his great great great grandfather, Hemophilius II, during the Epic Dinner Party of Hastings. Its heraldry depicted a great golden sun on a white field. Beneath the sun was a tiny compass rose like the one on his flank, circled in red ink to make it more visible.

Over his bed hung a wall-sized Rembridl original painting of the Feast of Waterloo. In the center of the painting, Celestia reared like a majestic angel, the golden rays of the sun above her head shone down over the feast to the delight of the little painted ponies beneath. His grandfather, Rarified Genepool, was also featured in the painting: craning his neck to be seen from behind a large pumpkin off to one side of the feast.

He looked around at his medals and trophies, accumulated over years of gracing high society events and functions with his presence. Once, they were his pride and joy, but now they seemed like nothing more than insulting trinkets, condescensions to his peripheral relation to the greatest ponies who ever lived.

The thirty pound gold and mahogany trophy over his fireplace?

The fancy peaked hat with the gold piping and filigree on the brim that hung by his door?

The framed certificate with the oversize blue ribbon fixed to it?”

The PhD. from Princess Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns?

He could go on…

No, he couldn’t! Not like this!

He was through living under Celestia’s roof, eating Celestia’s food and enjoying Celestia’s reflected glory! He would be his own pony!

But how? Wherever he went, he would always be Prince Blueblood, Nephew of the Ruler of the World.

Where could he go that nopony would know his name? What was the most backwater, down-home country-bumpkinest burg in all of Equestria?

Bridletown.

But, Prince Blueblood had never heard of that place, so he picked the only small town whose name he could remember.

“TOMBS!”

Tombs was already by his side.

“Sir?”

“Pack up my necessities. We’re going to Ponyville!”

END OF PART I

TO BE CONTINUED…