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>"We do not see why thou still dwellest upon this."
>The metal adorning your feet chime down the marble hallways as you march next to your sister.
>"Lest the western merchants go back on their word, We do not see peace between the tribes failing again."
>Upon receiving no reply, she tilts her head towards you.
>"Dost thou not agree?"
>You sigh and concede to meet your sister's gaze.
"I'm merely saying that we shouldn't take our eyes of the situation just yet."
>The moon princess raises a skeptical brow at you.
>"Thou suspect the merchants would try to deceive the royal sisters?"
"I'm not implicating anyone," you explain, as you come to a stop outside the door to your personal quarters. "But from my experience, the merchants of the west aren't the most trustworthy of ponies."
>The midnight-blue alicorn seems to ponder your words for a moment.
>"Verily, thou dost possess greater acquaintance with their character than We, but still..."
>She lowers her head in thought, only to have her attention stolen by a single flower resting at the foot of your door, accompanied by a small envelope.
>Her snout adopts a small grin.
>"Oh my, it appears thy 'secret' admirer hath visited again," she says, heavily accentuating the word 'secret'.
>You look down to observe your newfound gift.
>A bright, freshly-picked sunflower laying next to a neatly folded letter of a thick, smooth paper -- exactly the same as always.
>"Our discussion may continue on the morrow, as thou surely must be eager to compose a reply for thy paramour," your sister says with snide, raising a hoof to her mouth as she titters softly.
"Oh stop it, Luna," you say in a flat tone, "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were jealous."
>Your sister's snout scrunches together at your implications.
"Come to think of it, when was the last time you received an anonymous gift from a secret admirer?" You ask, forming a smile of your own.
>"Humph! 'Tis not very anonymous when one dost knowest the identity of one's admirer, though, We must concede, 'tis befitting of his name."
"Fear not, sister, I'm sure you'll find some belladonnas waiting at your door one of these days."
>"Hah! Very funny, sister," Luna replies, sounding slightly perturbed. "We are merely puzzled as to why this Mr. Anonymous persists with his courting, even when thou hath confronted him and explained that requited love is nary a possibility."
>The force behind your smile falters slightly.
>"One would think he would tire with such knowledge at hand."
"Yes, that's a bit strange..." You speak, your voice fluctuating ever so slightly.
>"Did thou not tell Mr. Anonymous to cease with these offerings?"
"Yes, o-of course."
>Did it suddenly get warmer in here?
>"And did thou not tell the guard to not let him enter these private halls?"
"Uh, yes, I did."
>Yes, the temperature is definitely rising.
>"And did thou not tell the cleaning staff throw away any unwanted gifts found in the hallways?"
"Y-yes, naturally..."
>Something must be wrong with the castle's heating; your coat is practically burning up.
>"'Tis not strange then, that his gifts still find themselves at your doorstep?" Luna asks, tilting her head sideways.
"Yes, yes, very strange indeed, sister, positively puzzling," you blurt out as you hastily open your chamber door and hurry to squeeze through the opening. "But it's very late, we'll have to talk more tomorrow. Good-night, sister," you call out, pulling the door closed behind you.
>Left outside your quarters, the midnight princess dons a warm, knowing smile as she notes that the sunflower and the love letter have seemingly vanished.

>You breathe a sigh of relief with the door closed behind you.
>You might have left your sister with a rather abrupt good-bye, but the topic of Anonymous' gifts always seemed to smelt away your usual composure and jumble your thoughts.
>And if Luna were to learn that you had yet to confront Anonymous about his anonymous gifts, or that you had specifically ordered the castle guard to always grant him free passage to your halls, she wouldn't let you live it down for at least a thousand year.
>Stepping over to your study, you observe your gifts up-close.
>You were going to confront him eventually, of course.
>Using your magic, you lower the sunflower into a vase on your writing desk, after first removing an older, less vibrant version of it.
>Some day, you'd let him know.
>It was, after all, completely unheard of for a princess to be courted by a commoner, let alone an alien.
>Sitting down at the desk, you raise the letter to your snout and take a deep breath, inhaling a familiar, pleasant scent.
>Some day...
>Ever so gingerly, you unfold the paper, and start reading his carefully concocted penmanship.
>As your eyes travel the curvatures of dried ink, you feel your coat growing warmer again.
>An unbefitting smile has enveloped your snout and your cheeks are burning beet-red as you finish reading.
>With great care, you fold the paper closed again, and place it atop a neat pile of identical notes sitting on your desk.
>Sighing softly, you turn your head and peer out across your dimly-lit quarters.
>You could almost hear your empty bed calling out for you.
>Turning back to your desk, your eyes land on the single sunflower, resting calmly in it's newfound home.
>Some day, you'll confront him, and put an end to this.
>Yes.
>Some day...

end