1/11

These were some impressive flyers. I noted that they didn’t look like most royal guards you heard about in promotions or pamphlets. One of them was a mare with a green coat and a pinkish mane, while the other was a stallion with a white coat and a sweeping yellow mane, both of them clad in light armor and moving gracefully as we swooped in, a careful and well-executed controlled dive. It could be hell to maintain speed and direction, and it barely felt like we were going down, much less the near-total freefall our angle implied.
	And with an artful grace and practiced coordination, the two angled us down onto the platform without so much as an errant jolt, landing us smooth as silk and slowing us down until we were in a perfect position next to small crowd of ponies who were waiting for just that. Within seconds they swarmed the carriage, collecting materials and inspecting the vehicle, while a pink unicorn stepped up to converse with Tempest. More than one glance was shot over in  my direction, and I mostly sat there as the buzz was around me, but no one quite interacting with me.
	I must have been looking particularly like a fish out of water, because eventually a hoof tapped on my shoulder. I looked over to see a stallion of remarkable size… He had to be my size and half again, with a broad, even musculature and a calm, easy grace. In general, he was the ideal of stallionhood and I found myself feeling a little bit lacking in comparison. But in spite of that, there was an aura of calm about him. Even with his grey coat, black mane, and practically glowing yellow eyes, I couldn’t help but feel a little bit calmed down him, just looking at him.
	“Hello there!” He said in a rich, deep voice. “I suppose you’d be First Prize, eh? Lucky stallion.” I felt like I was supposed to say something in response, but the best I could manage was a weak smile that was breaking at the edges and a grunt. He stared at me for a few seconds more, then sighed and patted me on the shoulder again. “Look, I know you’ve got a lot of bullshit heading your way, so let me get ahead of this. I’ve been assigned to be your bodyguard and liaison. My name is Rock Solid, and I am. To you? I don’t have a title. I’m on your side alone.”
	Slowly, the tension eased out of me, a mixture of his genuine statement and his calming atmosphere. Frankly, a huge chunk of it was just that I needed someone like him, and I could project onto him whatever part he felt short of the stated objective. “Hah, thanks, Rock. Nice to meet you, I’m First Prize. This is… this is a lot.”
	“Really? I was expecting total excitement,” he said, gesturing towards the literal red carpet. I had to stop and consider it for a second. With the, uh, aggressive treatment that the Captain had given me, I wasn’t quite expecting that.
	With a jolt, I began to piece together that I wasn’t exactly going to be kept in the dungeon most of the time. Sure, a gilded cage was a cage but… Prince Consort did mean Prince. The enormity of it all started to hit me at once, and I was shaky on my way out of the carriage, leaving Rock Solid to grab me before I face planted onto the carpet dramatically.
	“Woah, hey there,” he said. “I always figured pegasi handled heights better than the rest of us.” He gently set me down on my hooves and I flared my wings out, flapping a couple of times to help me get my bearings again.
	“Normally I can,” I say. “Physical heights. Not social heights.”
	He boomed out a laugh, a rolling and boisterous sound that nearly knocked me over again as he laughed at my stupid joke. “It wasn’t that funny,” I protested, but he was having a hard time calming himself down with the aftershocks. If he weren’t so naturally genuine, I’d have a hard time believing he meant it.
	“Come on, Sir Laughs-a-Lot,” he said, starting down the carpet. “You’re late, and we have a doctor’s appointment to get you to. Celestia’s expecting you in an hour, and we need you ready.”
	“Huh?” I asked, plodding belong after him, ears still ringing. “I’m not hurt...I don’t think I’m hurt.” I idly checked over myself while he shook his head.
	“Nah, more of a check-up and a physical. Need to make you’re ship-shape in Trottingham fashion.” He explained as he started off, pausing to make sure I was following at an appropriate distance.
	“And… if I’m not?”
	He snorted. “Are you always this much of a downer?” We trudged through the castle, and it began to dawn on me that this place was big. Like, really big. Big enough that it had multiple streams of traffic weaving into and out of each other, pegasi flying through the air, even the occasional (very clean) cart being towed through the gleaming marble hallways and artful columns. It was, after all, more than just the abode of the Princesses: it was the head of government for most of Equestria.
	We took a few of the larger hallways first, and I found myself a little staggered by the sheer quantity of ponies who were milling about. Rock generated more attention than I did, me being a relatively unknown quantity at this point and him being a head above most other stallions. More than a few of the glances were mares who’s eyes lingered on his flanks just a moment too long for it to truly chaste, too.
	Eventually, we ducked into a much quieter part of the castle, two stallions who I had come to believe form the bulk of the Royal Guard standing at attention and letting us past with a scrutinizing glance, the classic ‘I’m watching you’ gaze as we walked past. Here, the hallways seemed smaller, there was only the odd maid or servant bustling around, and everything had a much more cozy feel to it.Carpet and wood, warmer tones, calming pictures as opposed to the grandiose portraits over most of Equestria.
	“The Princess’ personal apartments,” he said by way of explanation. “She needs someplace that’s more homely than the life writ large that’s most of the castle, I suppose. You’ve got your appointments set up here.”