"Moooooooootheeeeeer!" The sound was like a thousand sour apples going through a poorly-oiled cider press all at once.

"Yes, Sugar?"

Donna Clementina di Orange was in her absolute element, which was somewhere on the periodic table between "Socializing" and "Plotting". Either way, it was a noble gas. She'd monopolized the Contessa for as long as she could, but finally demurred to her guests, some of whom were visibly twitching with anticipation.

Now the Donna was entertaining the lesser dignitaries, whilst keeping close to the center of the room. Yet between sipping imperceptible quantities of punch from an ever-full champagne flute, carrying on half a dozen conversations about everything from the weather to Canterlot gossip, and maintaining her place as the absolute epicenter of absolutely everything, she'd still managed to block off Applejack's every line of escape. And now the delightful Sugar Spice had joined them, her makeup the exact copy of her mother's, with the small exception that it was dripping down her face in white and orange streaks.

"Mother, that pink pony has simply ruined absolutely everything! I don't think she was even invited."

Clementina didn't look at her daughter, but gave a far-off pony a little wave, and chuckled at a friend's joke as she talked out of the corner of her mouth.

"Oh, she was invited. I received the letter from Canterlot this morning. A special friend of the Princess." Her voice was low, and she kept a smile frozen on her face as she nodded to a dignified stallion who strode by.

"Celestia?!" Sugar Spice exclaimed.

In a small sphere around the Donna, the conversation momentarily calmed as a few ponies turned their heads. Clementina snapped her gaze at her daughter.

"Quite, dear, and I'm certainly not going to spurn a friend of the Princess over something as trivial a little spilled punch. Now do go wash up, darling. You look simply terrible."

She'd turned back to her third conversation, a longwinded discussion of court intrigue with a tottering old stallion and elegant-looking young mare, and was about to drag Applejack into it for the umpteenth time when she saw an escape route.

"Actually, Aunt Clementine, I think I'd better go say hello. She's my friend, you see—"

But to her surprise, no further explanation was necessary.

"Celestia's guest, your friend? Oh, you should have said something, dearie. By all means, do go. And— "

She leaned in close.

"If it's no trouble, do try and keep her out of the punch."

Applejack gave her a reassuring smile and high-tailed it out of there. She caught the first snippets of the conversation.

"Yes, it's polka, I believe. A peasants' dance, you know…"

Pinkie (snorkel-equipped) was blowing bubbles in the punch (the third bowl, a pair of stallions scoffed as she passed) when Applejack scurried up to her.

"Pinkie Pie, am I glad to see you! You gotta' save me…"

Pinkie's head plunged into the punch and out of a nearby cup. She blew a stream of punch from her snorkel-spout and gave Applejack a huge orange-tinted grin.

"From what?

Applejack crouched behind the table and lowered her voice.

"My relations. My Aunt Clementine's determined to introduce me to everypony in the whole town. More than once, if she can manage it. And Sugar Spice…she keeps changing dresses. I don't know how she does it."

"In a changing room, of course…"

"And Uncle Valencio keeps trying to convince me that the family needs to reorganize the farm hire-archaically. More marginal profit, he says. Keeps wavin' fancy papers in my face. And then there's this froofy-doofy Contessa di Magia. I'd almost believe she was unhappy to see me. She shuts up like a clam when I'm nearby. And Braeburn's gone missing again. I swear, he keeps leavin' me with these dang relations, almost like he's avoidin' me…"

A particularly snooty couple walked around the table. Applejack looked around for somewhere to hide. Finally, she plunged her head into a punch bowl. Pinkie Pie said something that came out as a stream of bubbles.

"What?" But her voice was no less garbled.

When the couple had passed, she ducked behind the table again. Pinkie's head came out from under it.

"I saaaaaid, do you wanna go find him?" Pinkie's legs clambered onto the table and she crawled out from under it.

Applejack gave a happy little whinny that drew more attention than she would have liked.

"Yeah! Maybe he can explain why he keeps ditchin' me."

They crept away from the party. Away from the lights and music, Appleoosa was quiet. A few ponies wandered down the street, shadowed under the storefronts. Here and there a stallion lay on a side-street, deep in his salt. A small band of scraggly buffalo meandered along, constantly looking every direction. These were the inhabitants of an Appleoosa after dark, whose more respectable citizens had either closed their windows or reveled in the town square.

"Sooooo where do ya think he could be?" Pinkie was looking in barrels and sticking her head under cobblestones, but Applejack just looked around.

"He can't be far, 'cause he keeps coming back to the party."

"Why don't we ask someone?" Pinkie leapt in front of a nervous and flighty-looking stallion.

"Saaaaaaay, have you seen—" But he jumped and bolted down an alleyway before she could finish.

"Oh, come ON, you didn't even give me a chance."

"There, is that him?

Applejack spotted a pony, with her cousin's hat and color down the street, hidden by an awning's shadow. He was in a close ring with three other ponies, all talking in low voices. Applejack cantered over.

"Hey, cuz, is that you?"

But the moment she raised her voice, all four of them bolted. Down an alley they went their faces shadowed and inscrutable. Applejack gave chase.

The alley was unlit, and she barely managed to weave around trash and bricks as she pursued the shadowy figures into the dark. They turned a corner sharply, and she skittered past before changing direction and rushing after to find—"

Nothing. Nothing but a two-story dead end and a pile of sand. Pinkie Pie slid down the building on her right as Applejack caught her breath and looked around.

"Wheeeeeere'd they go?"

"Something funny's going on, Pinkie. That was Braeburn, or I'm a sourdough pretzel. But what's he doing out in the dark, talking all sneaky-like? And why'd he run away from me? It's not like him…"

Pinkie started pacing back and forth.

"Indeed! It almost seems…mysterious!" She whipped on her detective hat, and plucked her pipe from thin air. "He's talking suspiciously in dark alleys, and running from his closest relation. Not to mention, he ditched a party! And what's more—!"

Applejack swiped the hat and pipe before she could go on.

"Mysterious, sure, but not hard to solve. I'll just ask him tomorrow. He can't lie to me, not his cousin. Then we'll know what all this trouble's about. Still, weird."

Pinkie sighed longingly as Applejack put away her detective gear. But she perked up as they started back towards the house.

"Well, at least tonight was fun. Wait until Princess Celestia hears that we got into a chase!"

Applejack stopped, and looked her in the eyes.

"I…uh, I don't think we should bother Princess Celestia about this."

"Whyyyyyyyy not?"

"Well, the princess is real busy. I wouldn't want to…to add to her worries. We'll figure this out on our own."

Pinkie squinted suspiciously at her.

"Is that reeeaaaaaally why?"

Applejack looked aside.

"Well, it's also my cousin Braeburn. I wouldn't want to get him in trouble for no reason."

"But he ditched a party. A PARTY Applejack!"

Applejack couldn't help but smile.