A little while after the end of the night, Twilight finds me at a secluded corner of the ballroom. As she nears, an errant sunbeam streaking in through a window catches her in the eye. Sleepiness has rendered her reactions muted, but she still backpedals, cringing, before ducking beneath the shaft of light with all the grace of a minotaur on skates. I feel just a little bad for chuckling.

"I'm sorry about that," I say with a little smile.

"No, it's fine, Princess Celest—" is all she can manage before a long, wheezing yawn overtakes her. "Oh, my goodness, excuse me!"

"It's all right. Perfectly understandable considering the circumstances, in fact."

"I usually do my all-nighters with a lot more coffee," she admits. "But coffee at an occasion like this wouldn't feel right, would it?"

"No, it wouldn't," I agree. I cast a glance at Luna, who's in the middle of the dance floor. The last of the guests have her surrounded, thanking her for the night and exchanging pleasantries before following the other ponies out the door. A good number of them seemed ready to pass out in their carriages on their way home.

"Thank you for arranging this, Twilight," I say. "She's really enjoyed herself, I can tell."

"It's nothing at all," Twilight insists, smiling broadly. "Just doing my job as the P-O-F, after all."

It takes me a second to figure out the acronym, but I smile when I do.

"Speaking of Pincessly duties," I say, ruffling my feathers a bit, "I'm actually thinking about retiring, myself."

When Twilight realizes I’m not joking, her eyes widen and dart subconsciously to the sunrise-filled windows.

“Oh, not from [i]that[/i],” I say with a chuckle before I point towards the little gaggle of nobles still gathered around Luna, eager to be seen with her. “From [i]this[/i]. From being the [i]Princess[/i] of the Sun.”

“Why?” Twilight asks. “Is there something wrong?”

I can’t help but feel a twinge of pride in her. A few short years ago, this kind of talk would have shaken her entire world. But now, her first thought is to help.

“Nothing’s wrong,” I assure her. I grin a little. “Can I actually tell you a secret?”

Twilight is still confused, but she nods.

“I actually never wanted to be a Princess,” I admit. “If I had things my way after Luna and I defeated Discord, I would have just gone to live in a quiet meadow somewhere, and ponies would be wondering to this day about how the sun rose and set.

“But Luna convinced me that ponies needed to know that they were being watched over. That we had a responsibility to guide them. And though it has been truly wonderful to see my little ponies succeed and grow over the many years I’ve cared for them, I think I’ve ruled for long enough, now.”

“Does Luna know?” says Twilight. Her ears are swivelling the way they do when she’s thinking.

“Not yet, but I’ll tell her soon.” I shoot my sister another glance. The few ponies that are still with her—Ispot an astronomer and a musician in their midst—are the ones that don’t have political reasons for being here. They seem to be having quite the good time.

“Won’t she be upset?”

“Perhaps at first,” I say, “But I honestly believe she has the most to benefit from this.” I let my voice drop a pitch or two to emphasis this next part. “Has the thought occurred to you that tonight may have been the first time that many of our guests have seen a moonset?”

Twilight blinks, and I continue.

“And it wouldn’t be from a lack of early rising. The simple fact is that most of the time, their attention is drawn other side of the horizon.” I sigh. “But it’s not their fault; I haven’t given Luna or Equestria enough room to grow without me.”

“I think I understand,” says Twilight. “When are… you planning on leaving?” A worried waver shakes her voice.

“It won’t be something I do overnight,” I reassure her. “I plan on doing it the right way, and it may be several more years before everything is put in order.”

“Okay,” she says, clearly relieved, “but let me know if you need my help, okay?”

“Of course.”

I gaze across the nearly-empty ballroom and I look forward to being the Princess of nothing but a little brook in a meadow, somewhere.