Diamond Tiara didn't need to work for many things in her practically jewel incrusted life. Her father's riches provided for whatever a brat of her age could demand; live entertainment, various dolls played with once then thrown away into the corner of her memory in pursuit of newer things, pets that would have died from lack of proper care had it not been for her various underpaid maids. There was also a fair deal of hallucination on the pink bully's part, as she avoided a single truth: her father's money could not buy everything.
One of those things was a friend.
Now, usually, she would point to Silver Spoon and be content with saying the two were the best of pals, even if it was a slight mistruth (at least on the grey mare's part). But as of late, the usually smart-Aleck filly had been acting out of character, avoiding Diamond like the cutie pox. Diamond didn't question the odd behavior. She just lacked the capacity to care.
She lacked the capacity to care about many things; her greatest strength as a born-ready business mare and her greatest weakness in regards to humanity.
Monday morning awoke a slew of fatigued school fillies and disastrous hair brought on by missing hair brushes plus general discontent. It was the bane of all weekday existence, not to mention her own, and anything Diamond Tiara viewed to be pointless must very well so be without point. It was just one of those things she knew. Diamond daintily strutted into the school house, making sure that everypony took careful note of her finely patted and brushed fur, particularly her newly polished crown. She felt them staring. They too, the commoners, deserved a little morning treat. After all, give or take a few years and about have of the fillies in that room would be working under her in cubicles. Drifting back to Monday, she found it hard not the scowl. If and when Daddy was mayor of Ponyville (he had been dominating Equestrian politics as of late), she decided, taking her seat carefully as to not disrupt her carefully groomed coat, she would bribe him into legally banning Mondays. In any event, Tuesdays had a much better sound to them.
Cheerilee, standing center stage in the one room school house wiped a bead of sweat off her brow, already tuckered out by the daunting sun that loomed in the windowsill. There was nothing more she desired at the moment but a hot bath. But she pressed on, smiling at her students. They came first, not her wasteful flights of fancy.
"Good morning, class!" she called. In return, the school teacher was thrown a few effortless gargled good-morning-Miss-Cheerilee's , influenced by a clear lack of sleep and the fact that it was a Monday. A frown replaced her once cheery composure.
"Now class, are we really going to have that attitude?"
"Good mornin', Miss Cheerilee!" Apple Bloom yelled, nearly leaping out of her seat. Her eyes were wide with consciousness and no bags riddled them carelessly. Cheerilee lapped it up, in an effort to energize the class.
"Now, Apple Bloom, how are you so awake this morning?" The filly brightened, only too happy to share.
"Well ya see, Miss Cheerilee, us Apple Family get woken up by our rooster every early mornin' fer farm work, so ah guess I'm used to this!"
Diamond Tiara wanted nothing more than to smack her head against the stiff surface of the desk. Her intolerance levels were running dangerously low, and it was too early in the morning to hear the incoherent babblings of a farm hick. She shot a glance in Silver Spoon's direction, wanting some back-up on her obviously strong and well based opinions. Her friend was already asleep, however, drool forming a puddle large enough for a duck to freely swim on. Diamond winced and ignored the saliva, instead turning her head to the front of the classroom. Cheerilee was done fawning on the farm girl and was instead at the tail end of a sentence, holding a piece of paper at the end of her hooves.
"...first is due next Monday." she finished.
Diamond Tiara blinked, unaware of what had just happened. Time flies when you're having fun, and Diamond assumed anypony in her mere presence was having fun (well, except the three blank flanks and their stupid club, but who cared about them?). Perhaps that's how it worked, and she was satisfied with that theory. Again, she turned to her friend, who now was awake but with eyes wanting nothing more than to close their shutters. The puddle of spit had suddenly disappeared, and Silver's arm fur was mysteriously wet. Diamond once more mentioned nothing on the matter.
"Were you paying any attention?" the pink pony scoffed, flipping her mane up with an elegant toss of the head. She could feel the eyes of the interested colts in the back, and chose to ignore them. Eye contact would be too much of a morning treat. But really, she thought, who could blame them for staring?
"I wasn't sleeping, honest!"
"Who said anything about sleeping, idiot?"
That caught the mare off balance, but she didn't respond, instead diverging into another topic of conversation. "So, are you gonna start your letter to the Princess when you get home?"
Diamond had been staring at her reflection on the desk's hard surface, wondering how a nasty old coot like her dad had assisted in the creation of such a gem as herself. "Huh?", she answered, mind in other places.
"Weren't you paying attention? Miss Cheerilee is giving the class a new assignment. We have to write a letter to the Princess once every week. For four weeks, apparently. Something like that. I wasn't actually listening, you know." Silver Spoon didn't enjoy looking like a know-it all, though that's who she was at heart, and hastily tried to cover up her words with careless expressions and an awkward slouch she hoped sent the message of "I really don't care". But Diamond Tiara didn't buy it, she could see through people in that way. Again, however, she didn't mention it, and instead threw her head into the air with a groan while perfecting the same slouch Silver was in. Her feet sunk further into the dirt floor.
"Are you kidding me? How boring! I'm not doing that, I have more important things to do!" She actually had none, but she was sure she could think of something.
Silver looked at her funnily. "You mean that you're just gonna blow it off?"
"Pfft, yeah. Why?"
She hesitated in her response. "I don't know, Diamond. It might not be so good to blow off something that's being sent to the Princess herself."
She shook her head at the mare's idiocy. "Silver Spoon, please. As if Celestia sits around waiting for the letters of filly-schoolers. I bet she won't even read them."
"You...you really think so?" A tone of disappointment rang in her voice, and Diamond did her best to pretend that she didn't hear it.
"I do. Don't worry about it. It's not like Celestia's going to visit you herself, right? She has better things to do."
It was a run-of-the-mill day in Canterlot, as Celestia sat around waiting for the letters of filly schoolers. Of course, they wouldn't be arriving for a day or two, but she had nothing better to do. The sun was doing an excellent job moving itself for the day - sustaining such a powerful Celestial body as the sun could be difficult, but she had to keep up appearances - though she supposed she shouldn't mention that to anyone. It wasn't as if letters and impending conspiracy theories was the only thing on her mind, of course: great rulers learn to multi-task efficiently, and she was currently stamping approval papers for a cause that escaped her mind. Perhaps I need to work on my slipping memory before attempting multi-tasking, she thought with a smile.
Letters from Twilight were becoming more infrequent as the months rolled by, she noted, and quickly ignored the thought with little success. It was stupid for her to think that the pony was shunning her, of course: she wasn't worried about that. But Twilight was growing up, the aged ruler noted with a sigh not uncommon to pass her lips these low spirited days. And her student had devoted her time to a new lesson, one based on age, understanding. The Princess understood it well, and did not chastise the mare for it. It was all a part of growing up. But the fact of the matter was that friendship is a vast ocean of knowledge, one Twilight might have navigated successfully but not discovered fully. It would take many more pupils and more years than she could count to chart the sea of friendship, if it was even possible.
Celestia stamped the final page and looked a list that stuck its head out from a stack of other papers, numbered with the names of fillies. She supposed, if she was ever to complete her task, she ought to start with a new student soon.