Adamant fools they were, the lot of them, stubbornly insisting upon the equality of those lesser than they even when presented with the facts: the crown upon their brows, nature’s way of placing them above the rest; the long and noble history of the unicorn race, in which they were always regarded most highly; the size of the unicorn herd which had tucked itself away in the bowels of the mountains, the largest in the land of Helovia by far. These, among other reasons, left the shadow-mare with an irritable sort of bemusement, for it was obvious to her that the path that she had been set upon since birth was indeed the correct road to follow. How could those who claimed her heritage not see it?

Never mind that she, unmarked and plain, had dominated only the lowest ranks of the Crimson King’s armies. What a disappointment she must have been, though she tried so hard to follow his ways. Did she care about her father’s opinions? Perhaps, perhaps not – that had always been a secret held close to her heart, never spoken aloud. Whether or not she yearned for his approval, she was almost sure that she would not have gained it, if he could see her now, resting her boring rump on the highest mountain she could find, lording over a kingdom hardly fit for his hoof, never to achieve more. No, she told herself. You must not think that way. Your day will come.

And so it would, one day, but that day seemed ever so far away just then.

Particularly when one took into account their atrocious lack of new membership. Perhaps Illynx had the right of it, and they would grow only when supported by the fruit of their own loins. The jackal had no interest in foals, particularly after her first had gone so horribly wrong, and Snö’s father had been the only steed with whom she could envision a child. She resisted the sudden urge to grimace at the thought. Another child with the FrostHeart, with whom she had only just returned to good terms? Excellent terms, even, if one considered their recent lover’s tryst – could one call it that? She could not be sure – in the Frozen Arch. No, a foal was out of the question for her, and she could hardly require it of her harem.

The talk turned to the Assassins; the Empress was grateful, for it took her mind off the Ice King and their future children (which, naturally, she would refuse to have). ”Of course, darling, aiding a lost cause is not a habit of mine,” she agreed with a high, cold, tinkling sort of laugh. No, she had little sympathy for the ragtag band of outcasts. She had been in their position, hadn’t she? She had led her herd to safety, been guided by a particularly interested god. She had earned it, and she wasn’t about to fight the Assassins’ battles for them. ”There are more ways than banding together with that lot to bring down the skyrats, after all. All we have to do is find it.”

@[tag]
"Talk talk talk."