The halls of Canterlot Castle were quiet, save the hoofsteps of a single mare. Her hooves clicked briskly on the stone floor until she reached the largest door in the hall, plated with ornate decorations and fanciful designs. Steadying the metal tray she had brought with her on her left foreleg, she raised her right and knocked.

“Come in,” Celestia’s voice called from inside the room.

Twilight stepped inside carefully. The tray rattled slightly on her foreleg as she balanced it while opening the door.

“Good morning, Twilight,” Celestia said. “How are you doing this morning?”

Celestia’s voice was bright, but faded at the edges, like a flower that had been left to wilt in the sun. Her cheerful smile was dulled by the bags under her eyes, and her mane glimmered weakly as she leaned against the headboard of her bed.

“I’m doing well, Princess,” Twilight said. She gave her wings a soft flap as she lowered the tray onto Celestia’s bedside table. “How are you doing?”

Celestia held a hoof to her mouth.

“I... I think I’m doing well.” She paused. “Am I doing well, Twilight?”

“You’re doing wonderfully,” Twilight said with a smile. She lifted a bowl of cereal from the tray and handed it to Celestia, who took it graciously. Celestia’s horn glowed as she raised the spoon from the bowl to her mouth.

A rustling noise came from the side of the bed as Twilight unfurled a lengthy looking document.

“You’re scheduled to give direction on the Griffon Treaty this afternoon,” Twilight read.

Celestia chewed her mouthful of cereal slowly and dabbed her mouth with her hoof before speaking.

“Am I?”

Twilight nodded.

“What am I meant to direct, again?”

“You’ll give order that the treaty be sustained with an additional tariff, the terms of which have been outlined in this document.” Twilight tossed a scroll onto Celestia’s bed. Celestia picked it up and began to read, but furrowed her brow and set the parchment down after a few seconds.

“My eyes aren’t what they used to be... is it a sound proposal?”

“Very sound,” Twilight said. “Mostly a request for precious metals. A minor clause for large-scale property annex, but only in the event of suggested uprising.”

“That sounds...” Celestia began, but tapered off, narrowing her eyes again. “How do I think that sounds, Twilight?”

“You think that sounds great,” Twilight said, picking up the parchment from Celestia’s bed. “You’ve also arranged to reenact the Mandatory Equestrian Service Act, as well as the Compulsory National Diurnal Tithing, both of which you feel are necessities in this time of potential strife.”

“What did Luna think about all of this?”

“She agreed it was an excellent idea,” Twilight said. She coughed quietly into her hoof.

Celestia nodded and swallowed another bite of her cereal. It had already begun to melt into mush.

“Thank you, Twilight.”

Twilight nodded and rerolled her scroll, tucking it under her foreleg.

“That’s all for this morning, Princess. I’ll leave you to your breakfast.”

“Twilight,” Celestia called. She held her hoof up towards Twilight, who had stopped, halfway to the door. Twilight turned her head with an eyebrow raised, but remained silent.

“Twilight,” Celestia repeated. “Do you think, tomorrow, I might be able to remember for myself?”

Twilight turned properly towards Celestia’s bed, where the princess had set down her spoon. Her mane hung limply against her neck.

From the window on the far side of the room, a beam of weary sunlight shone through the glass. Twilight looked towards it. Through the thick panes and bars, she could hear the quiet scrape of guards in armor marching to their morning positions. Somepony shouting from the street, followed quickly by silence.

Twilight shook her head.

“No, Princess. Not tomorrow, I don’t think.”

Celestia nodded slowly, still smiling. Twilight smiled back.

“Thank you, Twilight.” Celestia levitated her cereal bowl back to its tray with a soft clatter.

Twilight nodded.

“Of course, Princess. See you shortly.”

Twilight waited a moment before opening the door and walking out of the room, letting the door close behind her with a click.

Through the solid walls of the castle, she heard another shout, followed by the clang of steel on stone.

Her hooves clicked on the hallway floor as she walked towards the council room where the future of Equestrian History was decided, one precarious meeting at a time.

Tomorrow, she would remember for Celestia that she had done a good job.