On The Origins of 'Princess For A Day' Day


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                                                >Another beautiful day had come to grace the capital of Ponykind, Canterlot. Deep blue skies unmarred by clouds, a mild temperature perfect for outings with the family. Same as the day before, and the days before that. The benefits of having near total control of the country’s weather, one could suppose. Canterlot Castle was similarly enjoying a day of peaceful monotony - nary a fiend nor villain to stalk the halls, and even the petitioners of the Day Court, which was presently wrapping up, were of the mild sort that barely rankled the Princess of the Day’s nerves. Not a single fussy noble had made themselves known. No, merely a few well-wishers and fans, and a hoofful of petitioners bearing a request to shore up some obscure laws involving the legality of street vending on a Wednesday. All in all, a placid mood had blanketed the city from root to blossom.

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                                                >But all one Second Lieutenant Anonymous - a human in remission, currently an Earth Pony stallion - could really focus on was how mercilessly his flank was itching. It was as if the muscles under his fur were fully aware that this was his first day being assigned to the prestigious position of Sentry to the Solar Court, and were doing everything in their power to make him break from his practiced ‘at-ready’ stance. Despite this rebellion in the furthest reaches of his equine form, Anon stood firm and resolute, with barely an eye twitch suggesting he was a hair’s breadth away from going absolutely feral and chewing on his own ass. He didn’t realize it yet, of course, but that irritation and distraction was about to play a pivotal role in his career as a Royal Guard.

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                                                >It was as the last petitioner for the day was being escorted out of the Solar Court, a protocol that would see the guards doing so exit the chamber to announce to the hall that Day Court hours were at their end (and conveniently, ensure the least amount of Royal Guards were in the chamber than at any other time of day) that the peaceful mood of the day would be thoroughly shattered. Shattered, much like one of the massive stained glass window that was falling to the floor of the chamber. A blur of black, shaped much like a pony bolted through the air and again, destroyed another window on its’ way out of the chamber. For a few precious moments, no soul reacted to the sudden disturbance, before one Royal Guard let out a strangled noise of shock and bolted after the offending blur. Being on edge as he already was, Anonymous realized what the rest of his fellows had yet to in their malaise: the blur had not simply passed through the Palace in a hurry, it had a purpose in doing so.

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                                                >And that purpose? Snatching the Crown right off of the now bare Princess of the Day’s head.

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                                                >Second Lieutenant Anonymous considered his options as he hurtled down the slope of stone and earth that had met him on the other side of the castle’s destroyed window. The culprit had been deliberate in their approach; coming from the east side and bounding out the west had seen their’ trajectory towards the upper ring’s commercial district. Had it done the opposite, they would have simply been drawn further into the castle’s interior and made it easier for them to be captured. This was a calculated crime, but that wasn’t surprising. The theft of the Royal Crown wasn’t something somepony just did on a whim, surely. Regardless, the slope demanded attention. The culprit ahead of him stood out from the pastel bright surroundings, clad in some sort of black garb that hid their body and Cutie Mark entirely - and even seemed to have room for their mane to be stuffed in it, ensuring there was no identifying feature to them - but they were quickly becoming harder to discern as they made distance.

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                                                >Anon’s next move was decided for him as the thief contracted their body and threw everything they had into a mighty leap, lunging right over the moat, clearing the other side, and finally engaging in a series of wall jumps between two buildings into the commercial district proper. All with the sort of ease that suggested that they had practiced the maneuver at least a thousand times before to do so with such grace. Anonymous made a brief mental note to have anyone who had maintained the perimeter of this part of the Castle reprimanded, because there was simply no way they just miss that kind of ruckus without either being dangerously incompetent or in on the conspiracy. For now though, as the old saying went: When in Roam, start Roaming.

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                                                >While the grace and speed of the thief were something to be admired, two worlds worth of military training meant that Anonymous had plenty of daring to follow their lead, and strength in his haunches. Kicking off the edge of the moat to cross it was foal’s play, and more than anything, he had to scale back the power of his kicks to ensure that engravings of his hoofprints weren’t left behind on the buildings he was using to ensure his fall didn’t incapacitate him. While he had managed to not damage the properties, the sound of his clanking metal armor and descent alerted the culprit that he was being tailed. A glance backwards and a minute widening of their orange eyes (the makings of an identification!) was all the warning Anonymous received before the thief bolted with renewed vigor, lunging through packs of civilians who were simply making their way through the district. Their panic had cost them their composure, and in doing so left behind a trail that the Second-Lieutenant was able to follow, keeping a bead on the black-clad pony all the while. Desperation grew in his target’s movements, but the Royal Guard did not join them in losing their head.

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                                                >While corners were turned at ludicrous speed without even the concept of caution on what lay behind them, Anon cried out various calls of “coming through!”, “apologies!”, “Royal Guard business, please make room!” More civilians were shamelessly used as obstacles to try and stall Anonymous, and even several carts of merchandise rammed into for the same purpose. A purveyor of cabbages screamed as Anonymous neared, but he found himself quite embarrassed with the guard performed a perfect spiraling lunge right over their merchandise. Less fortunate was the cart filled with flour that the thief deliberately destroyed in an effort to obscure their movements - a maneuver that would have worked if not for their attire. Above the rising cloud of white Anon barely made out the great blob of black as they ducked into an alley, followed by grunts of exertion that gave him a decent idea of what he was sure to find when he followed down the path.

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                                                >Oh, but he was wrong.

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                                                >While the Royal Guard’s training had always drilled into recruits the concept of ‘expecting the unexpected’ - a concept that had become akin to dogma in the wake of the Changeling Invasion - there were some things that just did not gel when one tried to piece them together. Rushing out of the cloud of flour, a pony jolted in fright at the sight of him - but it wasn’t the culprit. No, this pony was about half the height, not clad in a full body stealth suit, but... a very familiar crown. Pure gold, with a singular superbly cut amethyst set so perfectly in the center it was as if it was spawned there. The oversized diadem rested lopsidedly on her head, obscuring one of her eyes. The thief had went to such an effort just to dump the Crown on a random filly? Anon boggled at the sudden turn of events, already inspecting the alley for the thief’s trajectory (it dead ended into a wall, but they’d already demonstrated their parkour capabilities...) when the young lady spoke up and casually threw a wrench into things. “You’re here! I didn’t expect you’d be this fast, but mommy always said the Royal Guard were timely!”

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                                                >Anonymous paused mid-stride, intent on meeting the filly to question what she’d seen, but the way she spoke of expecting him gave him pause. He took a moment to really inspect the young pony before him. A pale coat with an almost equally washed out blonde mane that rested along her jawline in barely perceptible curls. Only one of her eyes was visible at the moment, the left, a vibrant purple. The accent placed her in the company of the city’s nobility, which only further made him question her presence in this dingy alley. Putting on his best ‘interacting with the tourists’ voice, Anon knelt carefully on his knees to better make eye contact with the filly. “Punctuality is the cornerstone of a good patrol schedule, ma’am. You were expecting me, then? What can the Royal Guard do for you? And may I have the honor of your name?”

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                                                >The filly pronked in place, the oversized crown on her head wobbling as she babbled. “Hello Mr. Guard! I’m Jasmine Reed! That stallion told me that I was chosen to be Princess for the Day, and that I got to make one wish! I hadn’t even heard of this contest, but I’m just so excited to have won!”

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                                                >The Second Lieutenant responded with a practiced chuckle. He knew that he had to pass this filly off to the first guard he could find if he wanted to keep on the tail of the culprit. Even if he had recovered the Crown, there was no chance he’d let them get away with this brazen disrespect to the Diarchy. Still, he was curious. “And what is your wish, Your Majesty?” Prepared for a request of sweets or somesuch, Anonymous felt his muscles tense as the sprightly little filly suddenly grew bashful, starting and stopping her response a few times before Jasmine finally worked up the courage.

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                                                >Gripping the Crown with one of her forelegs, she pulled it up to rest correctly on her brow, exposing the bright purples and reds of a shiner beginning to blossom on her right eye, and spoke the words that shattered Anonymous’s heart. “I wish my daddy was nicer to me.” The Royal Guard approached the filly, and...

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                                                >“...And I knew then and there that that thief was getting away with their crime. There wasn’t anything in that city that day that could stop me from seeing this through.” Colonel Anonymous finished, pausing to take a draft of cider. The story was one he’d told many times over, but it still left his throat parched as he wove it.

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                                                >The mare across from him, one Ink Slinger, waited patiently for him to finish before asking her next question. “And what of the Princess? You had quite recently been promoted to Second Lieutenant, I’m sure she was expecting you to return to the castle with the Crown and the thief in hoof. How did she react to you towing in a filly, instead?” The retired Guard simply laughed at that.

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                                                >“Oh, she was baffled for sure. But when I explained the situation and how I felt this took precedence over finding the thief... mare, that proud smile she gave me? Worth more than any of the medals I’d earned in my career, without contest. I’m still riding the praise in that expression to this day!” The reporter and colonel shared a laugh at that. “After that, I think most ponies know how it went from there. We found her father was a middling Noble that had shushed up folks trying to speak out about his behavior, dealt with him... ahem, accordingly, and our Princess got the great idea to use the ‘Princess For a Day’ holiday as a way to get abused foals the power they needed to get help. Fortunately, between her and Princess Twilight’s exemplary rule, it’s more commonly just a day to fawn on a randomly selected child in the city, and... quite frankly, I’m glad we’re able to have things work out that way more often than not.”

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                                                >Ink Slinger took to helping herself to a draft of cider before going to her final question for the interview. “Did anything turn up regarding the thief who swiped the crown in the first place? I know that you said you were more focused on helping fulfill Jasmine Reed’s wish, but surely other members of the Royal Guard were able to pick up the trail.” At this, Anonymous stiffened. The expression on his eyes was that of a stallion warring with himself, but he quickly came to a conclusion.

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                                                >“I’m afraid to say that in the rush of dealing with preparing a whole new holiday on zero notice, the thief was able to flee the city while we focused on hunting down the father for his crimes, instead.” The colonel’s foreleg reached over to gently nudge Ink Slinger’s own, causing her to pause her note-taking. “But off the record? The Princess put a stop to that hunt almost immediately. We both came to the conclusion that the thief never intended to truly steal the Crown. Their entry and exit path through the Solar Court? The glass windows they destroyed were unadorned with any recent heroics by the Elements of Harmony or the Royal Sisters. They did not harm anyone as they fled through the streets... though I can’t pretend there wasn’t a minor amount of property damage. Regardless, their efforts were entirely on getting our eyes on that little filly. A truly extraordinary machination to get somepony help, the likes Her Highness claims to have not seen in centuries. That kind of dedication to justice, even if it broke the law, deserved recognition. As far as the highest authority in the land is concerned, it was an act of Faust.” Colonel Anonymous tipped his interviewer a wink.

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                                                >”But you didn’t hear that from me.”