“So, Twilight.” Rarity takes a dainty bite of her scone. “How are you? Really?”

Only half-aware I’m doing it, I smile what I think—what I hope—is a serene little smile. I’m trying to imitate the one Princess Celestia always wears, the one that radiates distant reassurance even though nopony can read it. Practicing this smile has become a habit lately, though it’s a slow-blossoming skill, the kind that moves so slowly it’s difficult to perceive a change in. Right now, I’m bad at it. I suspect I’ll always think I’m bad at it until one day, far in the future, I suddenly catch my reflection out of the corner of my eye purely by chance and find myself floored by the realization that I long ago became my teacher’s equal without even realizing it.

But right now, I settle for doing the best I can manage for a couple seconds, then cover what I know must be a lackluster performance by lifting my own scone and taking a bite which I can only hope is as politely dainty as my host’s. I swallow a little too fast and it sticks in my throat. It doesn’t feel dainty at all.

I cover once again by lifting my tea and taking a sip to help wash it down.

“Oh, me?” I feign an inflection hinting surprise once my throat is clear. “I’m fine, Rarity. Just fine.”

Rarity smiles her own version of [i]the smile[/i]. It never works for her, though, because she’s got those eyes, those big blue oceans of sparkling sapphire, and it’s the eyes, I’ve come to realize, that are the secret to the smile. It doesn’t work if the eyes don’t cooperate, and hers always tell the truth.

Those eyes say it all, from under their long, perfect lashes.

She knows.

It hangs in the air like steam wafting off a fresh-poured cup of tea, a presence barely seen but impossible not to feel when it’s so close, so personal.

She’s too much a lady to let it linger uncomfortably, so she nips it before it can grow to fill the silence.

“I’m glad to hear it.” She nods a little nod, telling me she won’t question my claim. “I just wish we saw more of you, you know.”

“Well, princess responsibilities, and all.” I shrug weakly.

“Of course.” She nods again. “I understand.”

For just the briefest fraction of a second, I suddenly want to flip the table, because she doesn’t. She [i]knows[/i], but she doesn’t [i]understand[/i], and those are two completely different things.

I long ago despaired of anypony [i]understanding[/i].

I don’t flip the table, of course. Not understanding isn’t her fault, and anyway, the outburst was never a real option. The urge is gone as quickly as it appeared. Instead, I nibble at my scone and keep enjoying my tea—it really is good tea—while we sit across from each other.

“What about you?” I ask. “How have you been?”

“Oh, much the same as always, I suppose,” she says. “Lately, that seems to be a lot of juggling my boutique’s branch shops. Wishing I had more time for creating and less for administrating.”

Now I nod.

“I’m thinking of divesting a bit from that part,” she continues. “Getting back to my roots. Spending more time in Ponyville. I’m not as young as I once was, you know.”

“I’ve been thinking about that myself,” I venture.

She gives me that look again. Now I can’t help noticing the subtle crow’s feet that have formed, and they only make those eyes speak more sharply than ever.

She knows.

Even so, she offers me another flash of a smile, brief and terse but genuine. “It would be wonderful if you did.”

Hearing the idea spoken placates us both for the moment. I suppose it’s enough to grasp onto, because it’s true, I will [i]think[/i] about it. I’m always [i]thinking[/i] about it.

And so the dance goes, afternoon tea with Rarity. We talk and we circle and I smile my distant smile and her eyes tell me she knows and somehow I know it’s not a mistake that I can tell. Our conversation is a shell; we rotate around a hollow center, and we both miss the days there was something there in the middle.

Then finally it gets late and teatime is over, so I take my leave. I step outside and glance back with hatred at my wings, these wings I never asked for, and I fly away.