“Well, well, well!” Trixie said, and it was impressive how she made that word sound mocking with nothing but attitude and a small tip of her hat. “If it isn’t Princess Twilight!”

“Well, well, well,” Twilight replied, voice lower, her smile a glacier. “If it isn’t Trixie. Just the pony I wanted to see. Are you done not helping clean up the Castle?”

“I am! I ran out of windows to break.” Trixie did a little twirl on the broom, and then looked around. “Are you done over here? Because I need you to find a book.”

Twilight arched an eyebrow, and then looked at the dirty wall in front of them. “Does it look like we’re done?”

Trixie looked, too. “I can’t even tell. Have I ever told you that I find your Castle is very ugly?”

“You have.”

“Because I think your Castle is very ugly.”

“Trixie, you live in a wagon. Applejack’s dog has better living conditions than you.” Twilight glared, and then went back to the scrubbing of the wall. “Ever heard of glass houses?”

Trixie looked at the Castle, and then at Twilight. “I have!” she said. “They’re very ugly. I just told you.”

“Crystal. My house is made out of crystal. It’s completely diff—”

“Anyway!” Trixie lowered her broom, making the big cat sitting at the end of it meow in protest and shift to regain its balance. “While it is true I think you have awful taste in… pretty much everything.” Trixie gave their surroundings a very meaningful look before continuing. “I do think you can make good choices now and then. So, you know, all in all, you balance it out. You’re not as terrible as you look.”

There was a pause.

Twilight dropped her mop, and almost forgot to keep flapping her wings. “What? What th—what?”

Trixie looked down. “You dropped your towel.”

“—It’s a mop. It doesn’t surprise me you don’t know what it is, you don’t strike me as the clean ty—did you just say something nice to me?” Twilight asked, and she was borderline offended. She inched away from Trixie, hoof against her chest. “Really?”

“Oh, trust me, I dislike it as much as you do.”  Trixie twisted her mouth, like she was tasting something foul, and then moved the broom a little so the big cat wouldn’t fall down. It meowed a grateful meow. “But, truth be told, you did choose Starlight as your student. So your taste can’t be that bad all the time.”

“That—” Twilight flashed her horn, and the mop came back to her. “That,” she repeated, “came absolutely out of nowhere. Trixie, are you okay?” Genuine concern in her voice. “Is this witch nonsense getting to your head?”

“Not really! I just like Starlight more than I hate you.” Trixie waved a dismissive hoof in the air, and then looked at Twilight. “Anyway, I need your help.”

“Oh?”

“Your library is terrible.”

“Oh.”

“And I need a book."