It had been some time since the rebuilding of the Castle of the Moon. Nevertheless, change was slow to come; Although each one had their own palace now, Luna and Celestia agreed that for Twilight's first few years as a princess, Twilight should sit court at Canterlot.  Canterlot had been the traditional seat of government for a millenium and it was best to start with the familiar.

This was what they said, of course. Twilight had the feeling that it was more to let Celestia chaperone her in case she decided to string up more nobles and officials by various bits of their anatomy.(*) Or very depressingly, maybe to protect her from the rather nontrivial percentage of ponies with some sort of complaint about Twilight Sparkle, Twilight Sparkle's coronation, Twilight Sparkle's public behavior, Twilight Sparkle's betrothal, Twilight Sparkle's daughter... Celestia and Luna snuffed out those complaints quickly enough (Celestia with a mere word or two; Luna perhaps a bit more forcefully), but still they came. Endlessly. Stuffed shirts and noses high and high dudgeon in hoof.

Which brought things back to "protecting the ponies from the princess" again. There was surely going to be at least one strangled nobleman's corpse at the foot of the dais before the day was out.

"...And her defamation of our city's most vital cash crop has resulted in a  massive downturn in the market price from which we may never recover!" Mayor Ramroot thundered, pointing an accusing hoof at Twilight.

"All I did was tell the ambassador that I don't like rutabagas!" Twilight yelped in exasperation. "It was a state dinner! He was passing me the plate! I can't eat them, they give me GAS!"

Explosive snickering came from the seat next to hers. Twilight ignored it. Celestia raised her hoof for silence. "Mayor Ramroot, I seriously doubt that the mere word of a princess is enough to change pony's opinions of a vegetable," she said. "I suggest you look elsewhere for reasons for the downturn in rutabaga sales." Her expression puckered a bit. "Like, perhaps, the surplus of other root vegetables currently flooding the market-- and the drop in quality of your produce over the past several seasons." The mayor harrumphed, but Celestia pressed on. "And if a momentary change in ponies' appetite can sway your city's welfare so greatly, maybe you should talk to the farmers about diversifying their crops. Even the Apples plant a little corn on the side." Mayor Ramroot started to say something, but Celestia cut him off. "That will be all, Mayor Ramroot."

The mayor huffed and grumbled a bit, but bowed curtly and left.  Twilight wilted a little as he strode out of the throne room. "I'm sorry, Celestia," she said weakly.

Celestia sighed and rolled her eyes. "It's inevitable, Twilight. They are simply looking for a lightning rod to ground out their frustrations. You are newest, and therefore you are the easiest mark. Every word out of your mouth will be scrutinized, distorted, exaggerated, and exploited."

"And when will that stop?" Twilight lamented.

"I wouldn't know," Celestia muttered, not taking her eyes off the rest of the room. "I'm still waiting."

Twilight's spirit sunk even lower. This was miserable. She had at least expected to be doing something useful as one of the rulers of Equestria. But nearly every morning since her coronation had been spent sitting in this very spot, listening to ponies. Countless ponies, ponies complaining about trivialities, ponies arguing over trifles, ponies wheedling for Celestia to alter the laws in their favor (and when that failed, wheedling Twilight out of court to persuade the princess for them), ponies laying accusations against one another or making outlandish demands... What was the point of this?

Twilight felt a tiny hoof on her foreleg. "Don't worry, Mom," Nyx whispered. "They're all a bunch of plotheads anyway."

Twilight snifled a snicker. "Language, young filly," she said.

"Sorry," came the meek reply.

Nyx was, indeed, sitting in "Dawn Court" with Celestia and her mother. It was the simplest solution Twilight could find to 'bring your filly to work day.' They had the staff bring in a small loveseat and set it next to Twilight's, on the dais just below Celestia's throne. With a small table, a stack of papers, and a box of crayons to stave off boredom, she had been prepped to see her through the first part of her mother's day.

Had anypony taken closer note of what Nyx was doodling on those papers, they would have been surprised and amused to find out just how much attention the little filly was paying to the proceedings. She was far from bored; she found the ponies and their problems fascinating. Rather than just drawing whatever popped into her head, Nyx had undertaken to record the events-- or at least commemorate them, in the form of scribbled notes and crude drawings of the ponies who came to supplicate the princesses.  Though perhaps the various nobles might not have been flattered by her juvenile renderings of their noble personages.(1)

Spike was seated on Mom's other side, quills and ink at the ready, prepped to send off missives anywhere the new princess decreed. Twilight had taken the precaution of putting a bowl of gemstones by his seat for him to munch on; having Spike's stomach growl in the middle of Court could be distracting. "So who's next?" he said, tossing an emerald in his mouth like a bit of popcorn.

"Presenting hizzoner, Governor Sky High of Cloudsdale," the herald announced "To present a petition to the throne to protest the Equestria Games Council." Up the red carpet came a sky-blue pegasus stallion. He had a cutie mark of a cloud with an upward-pointing arrow and a mane and tail the color of burnished gold. His stormcloud-grey suit hung neatly creased on his muscular frame. He looked, Nyx thought, rather like a sky-colored Filthy Rich. He was flanked by two pegasi in identical business suits, a gold-on-orange mare and a red-on-white stallion. They had briefcases(2) and pinc-nez glasses and stern, determined expressions.

The three halted before the throne and did a sweep-winged bow to Celestia, and after a moment's hesitation, to Twilight as well. "Good day, your highnesses," Mayor Sky High said.

"Hello," Nyx blurted out on reflex. She hiccuped and clapped her hoof to her mouth.

The gold-on-blue pegasus and his assistants stared at her. "What..." Sky High blinked. "Is that really--"

"My daughter, yes," Twilight said hastily. She was getting rather tired of the hostile stares directed at Nyx. She made a motion that Nyx knew meant for her to sit back and be still.

Nyx flushed a bit in embarrassment and hunched down in her chair, trying to look as small as possible.

Mayor Sky High stared at the former Nightmare Moon a moment, but said nothing. He turned his attention back to the rulers of the land and cleared his throat. "As representatives of the city of Cloudsdale, we wish to register a complaint against the Board of Inspectors for the Equestria Games, and a petition from the ponies of Cloudsdale for a reevaluation by a new, impartial inspector for the Games this coming year." The red-maned stallion stepped forward and presented Celestia with an enormous scroll. When Celestia lifted it up and let it unroll, it unspooled and rolled clear down the steps of the dais. From where she was sitting, Nyx could see it was covered with signatures.

"As I see," Celestia said, passing the scroll over to Twilight so the new princess could get a look. "Twilight, if you would...?"

Twilight, relieved to have at least one issue that didn't directly relate to her coronation, quickly grasped it. She looked over the first foot or so of the petition, biting her lip thoughtfully. "If I understand the language of this correctly, Cloudsdale is complaining that the Equestria Games board is unfairly biased on the grounds that it has passed over Cloudsdale as host for the games."

"For the past five games in a row," Sky High emphasized. "This has been a rather unsubtle blow against Cloudsdale prestige. To say nothing of the lost opportunity for commerce and industry. Cloudsdale is the single largest pegasus city in Equestria..."

"Which is just the problem, Mayor Sky High," Twilight interrupted. "A pegasus city. One made of clouds. Which only pegasi and other beings with natural cloudwalking can even visit! How do you propose to provide facilities for the other two thirds of the population of Equestria? Or for any of the zebras, donkeys, buffalo, or other races that have no flight or weather magic, contestants and guests alike?"

Sky High grimaced. "This is unfortunately true," he said. His stern expression softened to a pleading one. "But that is just the point. Cloudsdale doesn't have the infrastructure or the industry... but we want it, desperately. We need it. With the opening of the Crystal Empire, and the discovery of Earth Pony magic, the weather-magic slice of the pie has gotten much smaller. We want to grow beyond depending on weather and clouds and Wonderbolt airshows.  The Games would attract investors who could put much-needed revenue into our city, tourism, trade, and more--- the stuff we need to even start building a broader infrastructure. Surely there is some compromise that could be reached. We deserve a fair chance. Are we a community of Equestria or are we not?"

Twilight chewed her lip. This was it; her first real test as a ruler of Equestria. It was true that Cloudsdale was underrepresented in the Games. For a millennia-old city of Equestria this was inexcusable. But it was also true that they didn't have any real way to host the games, not with buildings and roads that were only usable by ponies with wings. There had to be a workaround.  "What about cloudwalking spells? "

One of Sky High's assistants, the stallion with the red mane, spoke up. "We actually looked into that. There are permanent cloudwalking spells. But the cost alone would still be prohibitive."

Twilight mulled it over. "And you still have all the equipment and the merchandise and such to consider." She grimaced.

Nyx got a thoughtful look on her face. She reached over and patted her mother on the shoulder. "Mom...?"

"Not now, dear. Do you have any other proposals, Mayor?"

"We managed to do just fine the last time we hosted the games, back in ought-seven," Sky High said.

Twilight frowned as she tried to recall. "If I recall, that year you hosted the games-- on open fields down on the ground below the city," she said. "Not only did Cloudsdale end up spending itself into near bankruptcy just on renting the land space, but most of the work and infrastructure ended up falling on the backs of the earth pony communities in the surrounding area.... who were not happy to be stuck doing all the grunt-work for 'Cloudsdale's' stint at the games. And since the Cloudsdale games weren't even really IN Cloudsdale, none of your local businesses really benefitted."

Sky High grimaced again. "Perhaps if we moved to a nearby mountaintop?"

"That would be good for the downhill competition," the assistant mare said.

"But not so good for much else," the stallion on his other side retorted. "The effort needed to make level platforms for the other games..."

"But Mom--" Nyx said, poking her mother again.

"Not now, Nyx!"

Twilight turned her attention back to the mayor of Cloudsdale. "I'm sorry, but Cloudsdale just doesn't have anything to support the games. Figuratively or literally. If the city council can come up with a plan to fix this, then we would be happy to have the Board reevaluate the city for the next Equestria games. But until then-- their decision has to stand. I am sorry..."

Sky High turned a pleading eye to Celestia, who merely shook her head. "I hold by Twilight's decision," she said.

Disappointment etched Sky High's face. "We apologize for wasting your time," he said, clearly unhappy. "Thank you, your Highnesses." He gave a formal bow, turned and left, his head low.

Once again Nyx tried to get her mother's attention. "Mom, but what if..."

"Nyx!" Twilight said sharply. Nyx winced back. Twilight bit back a sigh of impatience and looked at her daughter. "Please, Nyx, if you have a question, just-- hold onto it and ask me later. Okay?"

Nyx ducked down, miffed, and looked away. Pouting, she focused her attention back on her stack of drawing paper and picked up a crayon.

"You did the best you could, Twilight," Celestia said quietly. "This has been an issue with Cloudsdale for some time; it was unlikely that a simple solution was going to present itself."

"Hopefully I can do better for the next ponies," Twilight whispered back. "Who is next?"

"Announcing Mister Knick Knack of Cloudsdale, of Knick Knack's novelties and Souvenirs, presenting a petition of grievance against the Equestria Games Board of Directors." In strode a lime green pegasus with a cart full of Cloudsdale souvenirs marked with the Equestria Games logo and a hardened scowl across his face.

Twilight groaned and rubbed her temples with her hooves.

Twilight, Spike and Nyx came staggering back to their quarters just as the sun went down. The Quartet were waiting at the door for them; they helped Twilight out of her royal finery, and hustled Nyx and Spike off to bed. The two went meekly; To Twilight it seemed as if Nyx was rather subdued.

"We set out a little, ah, refreshment for you on the north balcony, your Highness," Snowcap said. "We'll leave you to it." With that the foursome bowed and vanished in the manner of discreet house staff everywhere. Curious, Twilight tapped her way up to the second floor and out onto the veranda overlooking the city.

Waiting there for her was a candle-lit table for two, laden with a selection of sliced fruits and other delectables, and tall fluted glasses of sparkling cider. Soft music was playing on a victrola someplace, and the stars were coming out  as a cool night breeze blew in. Her chair was out, ready and inviting, and seated on the other side of the table was a certain dark blue, black maned stallion she'd been thinking of all day. "Hi," Ink Spot said with a half grin. "Your hoofmaids set this up..."

Twilight giggled. "Not subtle, are they?"

He looked around. "Well at least I managed to talk them out of the blindfolded violinist," Ink Spot quipped.

Twilight chuckled and gave him a lingering kiss. "Oh it is so good to see you," she said fervently before slipping into her chair and attacking the fruit platter.

"Hard day?" Ink Spot said sympathetically.

"Oh, you have no idea..." Twilight rolled her eyes. "And you?"

Ink Spot grunted. "Luna sicced her major domos on me," he said.

"Pomp and Circumstance? Really?" Twilight recalled the stuffy, officious twins (one a pegasus, one a unicorn, otherwise perfectly alike right down to their cutie marks) who served the night princess.

"They spent the day marching me up and down and lecturing me on courtly protocol and etiquette," Ink Spot said. "Seeing as I'm to be the consort of a Princess, I need proper training to keep me from messing the carpet. They had me rehearsing everything from bowing and scraping to biscuits and tea. If I drank one more cup of tea I was going to need a bladder transplant."

Twilight snerked.

The two ate, drank and talked, commiserating over their mutual days by the light of the evening sky. Once they had slaked their hunger and thirst, they drifted back indoors to snuggle in a love seat in front of the roaring fireplace and a good book (Legends and Folk Tales: the Lore of Equestria. Jumbo anthology.) Twilight snuggled halfway into Ink Spot's lap and regarded the illustrations with her lips pursed. "I wonder how many of these guys the girls and I are going to end up having to deal with," she said sourly. "The princesses seem to have a habit of leaving Sealed Evil in a Can all over the place."

"Hopefully not this guy," Ink Spot quipped, pointing at an illustration of Tirek. "He and Nyx would probably squabble all the time."

Twilight stared up at him. "What are you--" It took her a second to get the joke. She scowled at his grinning face and gave him a hard poke in the ribs. "I do not go around adopting reformed Dark Villains willy-nilly," she said.

"Ow." Ink Spot chuckled. "Well, between you and Nyx, and the way Pinkie Pie has Discord practically walking around on a leash...(3)"

Twilight rolled her eyes and was about to respond when there was a flash of purple-green fire overhead. A clumsily-made scroll dropped out of the air, bounced off her nose and landed in her lap. Twilight picked it up, looked at the name written in crayon and groaned. "Oh no. I did it to her again."

"What is it?" Ink Spot asked.

Twilight smiled a little guiltily. "It's from Nyx." She sighed. "This was supposed to be 'take your filly to work' day. But I got so wrapped up in things... she spent the whole day trying to get my attention and I kept putting her off. So she had to write a letter to me to tell me something. Again." Her ears folded down. "She must have written this and had Spike use that... delayed delivery thingy of his to send it to me." She sighed. "How am I going to make that up to her?"

"Well, I'd start by reading what she wrote. It must have been important to her to write it down," Ink Spot said wisely.

"When you're right, you're right," Twilight said, giving him a peck on the nose. She unrolled the scroll and started reading out loud. "Dear Mom,

"What if instead of casting the cloudwalking spell on the ponies, you cast it on the clouds?"

Twilight sat stone still, staring unblinking into the middle distance. After a minute Ink Spot started getting worried. "Honey?" he said cautiously.

"Well stick a hydra in liederhosen and teach him to do the polka," Twilight muttered. She jumped up. "Where are my quills and parchment? I've got a letter to send to Mayor Sky High-- and to the Cloudsdale cloud factory!"

"I'm guessing cuddle-time has been delayed for now," Ink Spot said wryly.

"SPIKE! Urgent rush letter delivery!"

(*) Luna was more liable to collaborate.

1) Nyx's drawing of the Duchess Glowerhaven would earn her compliments later for her marvelous rendition of a hippo in a dress.

2)Pannier style, of course.

3)In this continuity, Celestia gave the duty of reforming Discord to an entirely different pony. It worked out rather better, actually.