“And now,” the guide said, motioning towards the door he’d just unlocked, “please proceed to the royal bedroom. Mind the stanchions and the ribbon. Do not encroach on the carpet, as it is very fragile. Refrain from touching the furniture.”

The ponies padded one after the other to the doorway and the next room, until this one was empty. The guide closed the door behind him. He slinked amidst the group, and stopped in his middle.

“Shhht!” he hissed, and waited until the last whispers petered out. “This,” he began, taking in all the room in a sweeping gesture, “is the former royal bedroom where Celestia used to sleep.” He pointed at the canopy bed whose rich sheets were adorned in solar symbols sewn with golden threads. A full-size dummy of Celestia was lying in it, eyes closed. 

“Such luxury!” somepony blurted. It was hardly over a whisper, but it echoed in the silent room.

“Uh-huh,” the guide replied. “Now you  can see almost every object in this room is marked or carved with the solar symbol. Even –” and as he pointed up everypony raised their head — “the ceiling.” Over their heads stood a large solar disk, spiked with waving flames, painted in gold over a pale blue background. “Gold was Celestia's most prized metal. Do you guess why?” He scanned the group with intent eyes, but nopony ventured an answer. “Well colour obviously,” he finally picked up. “Gold has always been a solar symbol. Silver was reserved to Luna, and copper was associated with Cadence.”

He cleared his throat. “Every morning, half an hour before the scheduled sunrise, according to the etiquette, the captain of the guard on duty knocked at the door you can see over there, and brought to her majesty on the golden platter now laying on the nightstand a cake freshly pulled from the oven by her private chef baker.”

The group shifted slightly. 

“When her majesty had finished –” he paused, smiled and carried on in a more subdued voice, as if in confidence – “many historians say she wolfed her cakes down rather than properly eat them –” he resumed with his normal voice, “she would raise the Sun at the prescribed hour and then hold her first meeting of the day with the other princesses at this table.”

He gestured towards a dark wooden table, probably mahogany. Four seats were placed around it. On one of them sat a dummy of Princess Twilight Sparkle, her forelegs leaning on the table, her face brightened by a beaming smile.

“They look so real! Almost living!” somepony said.

“Yes,” the guide replied. “Our team of designers worked hard to recreate the room’s original atmosphere from old photographs. Any questions?”

A mare raised her hoof. “Was this room used after the Revolution?” she asked.

"Well, rumour has it that our first forecomrade, Starlight Glimmer, made it her private office before she moved into the newly built People’s palace near the Parliament. But there is no historical evidence to substantiate this claim. It was used as a storage room before this museum opened. Any other questions?”

There was a hush.

“Very well,” the guide said after a few seconds. “This concludes our visit. Thank you for your attention and good stay in Canterlot! Please exit through this passageway.” 

He saluted every visitor as they stepped out. When all had left, he flicked a switch that killed the lights, and walked away. The echoes of his hooves died in the corridor.

Twilight Sparkle sighed and stretched her limbs. “Dang!” she exclaimed as she scraped her chair back. “I almost cricked my neck.”

Nothing moved in the room.

“Princess Celestia?” she asked with an alarmed voice. “Princess!?”

Celestia rolled in her bed. She yawned and cracked heavy-lidded eyes open. “Uh?” she said. “What? Oh!” She giggled. “I think I really fell asleep, Twilight!”

“Princess! For an instant I –”

“Twilight!” Celestia cut in with a mellow voice. “Why are you so mawkish?” She sat up on the bed.

“I'm always concerned about you…”

“So sweet my precious pupil. But tell me: how long before the next group?”

Twilight shot a glance to a clock. “A full hour.”

“That’s plenty of time to fill our stomachs. I heard they locked away a crate of hard cider in the cellar. You’re game to snitch a bottle?” She winked.

“You bet!” Twilight answered.

Celestia stood up, magically opened the rear door, and both princesses disappeared into the stairway behind it.