The princess steps through the doors, and unfolds.

The long sigh that escapes her lips seems to take all her regal bearing with it—she slouches down, wings unfurling to practically drag against the polished marble floor. But her polite royal mask slides not into a frown, but a tired grin. Another day’s work, well done. Time for the monthly checkup.

She passes by a window, fond eyes tracing over familiar patterns, old friends and family, preserved in glass. This private wing of the castle houses older works than the main section, the great triumphs of her youth and even before—selfish maybe, but while they are pieces of her nation’s history, but they are [i]her[/i] history too.

Slipping down a narrow corridor, she finally arrives at her destination. Nudging the door open with a wing, she steps into the small room.

“Hello girls,” Princess Twilight Sparkle says with a sleepy smile.

In front of her stand six statues arranged in a circle. Were anyone else to see this room, they might be a little confused—the history books never seem to mention the slightly manic tinge to the Bearer of Laughter’s smile, or the shy duck of Kindness’ head. They certainly never said that Loyalty was so [i]short[/i]. 

“Today was a bit of a pain in the butt, to be honest.” The princess laughs, shifting to pace around the room. “The new Dragon Lord is going on about ‘heritage’ and ‘soft ponies’—same revivalist nonsense as usual, it’ll pass. Doesn’t stop everypony from getting into a tizzy about it though.” She weaves between the statues, animating for the first time since she stepped out of court. “And we’re having some teething problems over in Cirruscinnati. You’d think somepony would realise building a new cloudcity might be difficult, given we’ve only ever made one before!” Stopping, she huffs and shakes her head, a wry grin spreading over her face. “Between you and me, I think I pulled the short straw with this job.” She runs a fond hoof over Generosity’s forehoof, thrown forward in perpetual fabulosity, before pulling away and moving towards the end of the room. “I’ll see you all next week. Nightmare Night, you know?” And with that, she pushes forward through the next door.

The room beyond is similar, but smaller. Only two statues stand here although they are a little larger than the ones before. Both stand tall and proud. Twilight bows her head. 

“Luna. Celestia.”

Then she flops to the floor, limbs scattering in an undignified heap. “You left me a lot of work, you know that?” she huffs, squinting upwards at their stone faces, her crooked grin belying her grumbling. “Right pair of slackers, you are.” She sighs, lowering her muzzle to the floor, eyes closed.

She sits like that a while. An outside observer would be forgiven for thinking the princess was asleep. The minutes tick by.

“I think I’m going to give up my throne soon.”

“Not [i]soon[/i] soon,” she corrects hastily, shooting up into a sitting position, “Got to find some poor sod to fob this off on, another student. Marigold’d probably throw something at me if I asked. She’s smart like that. But, well. Soon.” For the first time, her mouth curls down into a slight frown. “It’s just… a lot.Memories, good and bad. Made a lot of new friends! But they’re all dying or dead now. And any new ones will do the same.” She scrapes her hoof absently across the floor. “I kind of get why you ended up so distant from most ponies. It’s easy.”

Then, with a sniff, she shakes herself out, and hauls herself to her feet. “Anyway, got a few more years in me. A few more friends, a few more stories. Hopefully good ones, but either way I think I’ll be alright. And then I’m finding wherever you two buggered off to. Might take me awhile, but should be fun!” She throws a smirk back at the statues, already heading back to the door. “Later!”

She trots back through the door and towards the exit, slowing a little as she reaches the middle of the room. Her smug smile softens. “...I miss you girls.” For a moment, the weight on her shoulders is palpable. Then she straightens. “But we had a good run, didn’t we.” A nod, small but sure. “Yeah. A good run, all told.”

With a soft click, the door shuts behind her, and a story ends. But that’s alright. There’s always another one.