Chapter 1
The hustle and bustle in the capital city on a busy day wasn't as rushed or crowded as in other cities, one might observe. Ponies draped in silks and linens, perfectly suitable for the summer months, made their way up and down the shrub-lined boulevards, on the lookout for the nearest stall or shop that looked appealing. Vendors shouted out their wares at the top of their lungs, putting the most eye-catching items on display in front of them.
It was through this crowd that Fancy Pants made his way home, his formal senatorial robe replaced with a more casual vest and tucked into his saddlebag to not attract too much attention while on a simple walk. He'd had enough excitement for one day, after all.
Bright fabrics with rich embroidery lay stacked in bolts in front of their stalls, occasionally unrolling long enough for the disgruntled vendor to have to chase after one. Poor Lilly Love, he thought. She's always knocking over one thing or another when she gets too enthusiastic during a sale. Red amphorae with intricate patterns painted onto them stood upright with bronze and copper vases and jugs, burnished to shine in the late afternoon sun. A very wide range of jewelry lay assorted on a velvet cushion atop one vendor's stall, though the disgruntled look on the mare's face told him she hadn't been having a very good day, either.
He stopped for a moment, glancing back and forth between the jewelry vendor and a wine seller right across from her. Bellona's breath, he needed a drink or two anyways. And he had been looking for a present for Fleur before he left for the Parliament session; now was as good a time as any to get one. Oh, and something for Night Light and Twilight Velvet, too.
With his usual cheerful smile, he walked up to the jeweler, glanced down at her wares, and quickly produced a purse half-full with bits. "How much for that, my good lady?"
Fleur de Lis reclined on her couch in what most would call a regal pose, gazing into the depths of the shallow pool in the middle of her house's atrium, and discreetly ignoring the sound of loud, boisterous recreational activities in the bedroom on the north side of theroom. She shook her head with an amused smile, suddenly glad for the many scented wax candles she'd set around the house. She looked back up to find the other two mares in the room still chatting away. "I've told you a hundred times North, you can't let those nastier get to you too much. I mean, after all, you were paid fair and square for the plans; what do they want, a discount on the next one?"
North Star just huffed and spent a few minutes gazing into the cushions of her couch before looking up at her companion. "I know, I know, Petunia, but you know I can't help it! Those insufferable ponies call my work 'a bunch of organised scribbling.' Scribbling! The greedy lot can usually barely scratch a straight line in the dirt, and they have the nerve to call architectural drafting 'scribbling?' I work for every bit I get, and if they don't appreciate having to pay for the best damned architect in the city," she gestured towards her cutie mark of a drawing compass, "Then they can go pay for a cheaper one!"
Petunia nodded in sympathy, refilling her cup of wine from a nearby pitcher before handing it to one of Fleur's servants, "Take that to North. She looks like she needs it." Once both their cups were refilled, she continued. "I feel for you; after all the horticultural pursuit isn't one looked on too favourably in this city," she muttered, "Oddly enough, since they sure love their gardens here, but most of these aristocrats can't be bothered to respect the ponies that make them grow and flourish." She froze for a moment, before glancing over at Fleur with an apologetic smile, "Present company excepted, of course." Her smile slowly sank back into a frown as she looked down into her cup, then back at Fleur. "But... come on, my Lady, you have to get tired of it too, I mean? The old farts and their constant belittling, the snobby looks, the stupid muttering behind our backs? It's got to be-"
Fleur delicately coughed, shooting Petunia a stern look, and the other mare fell silent. She looked Petunia in the eye, before opening her mouth to speak, "Yes, it is... unpleasant to deal with, especially with my modelling career being a 'not noble enough' background for some of the stodgier ones to count me as an aristocrat, wealth or not." She shrugged, keeping her face a neutral mask of indifference, "Still, need I remind you, a good number of my friends and allies are nobles. Night Light, Twilight Velvet, Octavia Melody, Primrose, Purple Stripe, Prince Blueblood-"
North and Petunia were just barely able to cover up their snickers by turning them into a fits of coughing, intentionally avoiding the glare Fleur threw their way. "No offence, my Lady, but Blueblood usually has one of three things on his mind; power, sex," North gestured towards the currently-occupied bedroom off the atrium for emphasis, "and drink. All three together, if the rumour of him hosting Bacchic rites in his villa are anything to go by."
Petunia flushed, trying to look anywhere but at the two other mares. "Actually, they're quite true. I've been to one of his parties, and believe me when I say they make Purple Stripe's look chaste." Her ears folded down in embarrassment at the surprised looks Fleur and North were shooting her. "What? I'm not one of Lady Camina's sworn virgin priestesses, so don't look too shocked. I'm an adventurous mare, after all."
North broke the moment of silence with a chuckle, while Fleur filled a cup of wine for herself before passing the pitcher back to North. "So you are, Petunia; I do not doubt that." She offered the pitcher to the other mare. "More wine, dear?"
"Thank you."
The three of them lay there, quietly sipping from their cups, before North started the conversation back up in her usual direct manner, "So, how was Blueblood between the sheets anyway? If rumour's anything to go by, he's supposed to be very... vigorous."
To her credit, Petunia did not spit out her wine; as she had prudently drank just before that question was asked. Instead, she flushed even redder, shakily setting her cup down before she could spill any. "How would I even-"
"You just admitted to going to one of his orgies, dear."
The horticulturist pony squirmed in her chair, North fighting down a fit of giggles at Petunia's expense while Fleur took the more delicate approach. "Don't mind her any, Petunia; you know how... blunt she can be about these matters."
"It's... it's alright," Petunia took a deep breath, her face returning to its usual violet hue. "Actually..." she grinned sheepishly, "He was pretty... vigorous. A bit smaller than usual, but by my ancestors, I definitely felt all of it, for sure. I kid you not; it took him nearly three hours to run out of stamina. And he was with probably a fair number of the guests that night besides me. I didn't stay for the second and third nights, I was so exhausted."
Fleur nodded, thinking back to some of the stories Fancy had told her of Blueblood's stamina. "So Fancy told me." A small grin made its way onto her muzzle, "He didn't say he was a little undersized, though."
North snorted, "Of course not. He'd want nothing more than for you to think the utmost best of his 'dear friend Blueblood', despite his vices. Probably hoping you'd actually agree to his offer to join those two in bed one of these days. How he ever took a shine to that fussy little lecher, I'll never know..."
Fleur paled at the thought; while she loved Fancy dearly, she had little regard for Blueblood, his political position and very close friendship with her lover aside. Unlike some of the more adventurous members of her class, it was a requirement for her to at least like somepony before thinking of bedding them. She knew Fancy felt the same; she just didn't understand what he liked in the stallion, Fleur thought to herself with a just a hint of envy.
Before she could start brooding on how to deal with the ambitious fop of a prince, the door to the previously occupied bedroom swung open, the object of her thoughts appearing on the other side of the doorway, with a grin so smug Fleur had the urge to smack it off his face. From behind him appeared two of Fleur's servants, Rosemary and Star Bright, the two of them sporting the usual giddy, painfully wide smiles Blueblood tended to leave in his wake. "My Lady Fleur! Your beauty outshines the brightest lilies of the field, as always," he said with a sweeping bow, somehow managing to look dignified despite being sweaty and just a tad bedraggled, not even mentioning the other bodily fluids probably on him.
Fleur just gave him a flat look, "Go clean yourself up, Your Highness, before you speak with me. Can you not spend a day without seducing one or more of my servants? Are the guests at your... parties not enough variety for you?"
Blueblood just gave her that irritatingly charming smile that almost never seemed to leave his muzzle. "Not my fault all the mares in your household are distractingly attractive." He shot the exiting flank of Star Bright a rather appreciative look. "The stallions, too."
Fleur rolled her eyes, not in a mood to deal with his antics yet. "Don't I know it," she muttered, before slipping on her mask of indifference once more, "At any rate, you need to get cleaned up before Fancy gets home, and before Night Light and Twilight Velvet arrive to head to the party tonight."
"True enough," Blueblood said, making his way out of the atrium and towards the back of the house. She breathed a sigh of relief as soon as the door shut behind him, turning back towards her guests, who had remained silent the whole time. "Well, don't just lay there; it's time for us to get ready! You left your dresses in the guest bedrooms, right?" The two of them nodded, and promptly headed off to change.
With a sigh, Fleur lay back onto her couch on her back, looking up at the patterns on the ceiling. It wasn't that she disliked Blueblood because he slept with Fancy; if that was the case, she wouldn't get along with Hoity, South Pole or even Night Light and Velvet; well, at least before that one night the Senator, his wife, and Fleur had spent together after Fleur's birthday party, anyway. It was more that... well, she was worried. She knew Blueblood and Fancy's friendship went back years before they'd even met each other, back at their Hoofton School days; but she also knew Blueblood was an ambitious power-broker, and couldn't help but wonder if, worst came to worst, Blueblood would betray Fancy if it suited his political goals. She felt tears prick at her eyes at the thought; she just didn't want him to get hurt like that...
"My brightest lily, I am home!" announced a familiar boisterous voice, Fleur's brooding quickly turning to delight. The mare nearly fell into the atrium pool in her scrabble to get to the door, but she made it with nary a hair out of place, wrapping her forehooves around the barrel of her lover as soon as he stepped into the atrium.
"Thank the ancestors you're home! After all I heard about the trouble with the Senate today, I thought you wouldn't be back from the palace in time."
Fancy returned the embrace with equal vigour, nuzzling into her shoulder. "Well, I'm home now, my dear Fleur," he said, pulling away enough for her to see his smile. "I trust Blueblood behaved himself while I was gone?"
Fleur bit back the first retort that came to mind, before settling for the second. "As much as usual; he's in the bath at the moment, of course."
"Ah," he said with a tinge of disappointment. "Oh well. I trust he didn't act too unsavoury towards you, my lily?"
"No." she said with a shake of her head, her lip curling slightly. "Just him being... himself as usual."
Blueblood frowned, his eyes taking on that 'pleading' look that always managed to make her heart (and Blueblood's, she suspected) melt, at least for the time being. "Alright then." He turned away for a moment, in thought, before his eyes widened. "Oh, by the way; I have something for you I picked up from the market." He opened his saddlebags, levitating his gift for her out so she could see it. "I hope you like it."
A brilliant gold pendant in the shape of a, well, Fleur-de-lys hung on a chain in front of her, set with sparkling little white gemstones. Her eyes watered slightly, before she pulled Fancy in for a passionate kiss, to his pleasant surprise. "Well, that answers that question!" he said with a breathless chuckle once she pulled away.
The two of them simply gazed at each other for a few moments, before a cough caught their attention. "Erm, Your Grace, My Lady? It's time for you two to get ready for the party."
Fancy nodded, sharing one last nuzzle with Fleur before going their separate ways. "Of course it is. And may it be a damned fine party."
