USD: 12 Years earlier

Location: Luna, Imperial Residency, Princess Celestia’s Wing

Teetering on her tiptoes, Celestia diligently etched a new height marking onto the back of her dressing room armoire, as she had done every year since her fifth birthday. A subtle smile graced her face. This latest mark represented her most significant growth spurt to date. It was a point of pride that her mother, Empress Psi, always inquired about during their annual birthday tea.

“Princess, please,” a maid implored, entering the dressing room.

Reluctantly, Celestia retreated from her hidden sanctuary. The room was adorned with refined paintings and opulent furniture, but her attention was immediately drawn to the vibrant red dress carried by the maid. As she examined the gown, her face soured, and she shook her head slowly while approaching the towering dressing mirror.

It wasn’t that she found the dress unappealing; the red fabric was exquisite, embellished with golden embroidery that pleased the eye. But she had learned that catching the eye of her older siblings was something to avoid.

And donning the Imperial colors was the fastest way to stoke their jealously and disdain.

“I’m not wearing that. Bring the white one,” she ordered.

The maids exchanged uneasy glances, hesitant to defy the young princess’s wishes. Her victory was fleeting, as a slightly older maid, Livia, joined the group.

“Livia, please…” Celestia began.

The older girl shook her head. “Lady Celestia, the Empress specifically chose this dress for you,” Livia explained softly. “We’ll all face punishment if you disobey.”

Celestia understood the implications all too well. Reprimands from her mother were often delegated to her siblings and were best avoided. It was even worse for her maids.

Gazing at her reflection, her ruby eyes were dim with resignation. “Alright, I’ll wear the red one.”

“Thank you, Lady Celestia,” Livia replied. The maids promptly adorned her with the opulent garment, each piece making her feel increasingly exposed.

Livia seemed to sense her discomfort. “Wait,” she said, brandishing a spool of white ribbon. “Let’s add this to the trim. It should soften the look and perhaps make you feel more at ease.”

Celestia managed a grateful smile and nodded. “Please.”

The maids skillfully incorporated the lace, and Celestia assessed her reflection once more. The dress remained a bold statement, but the white trim provided a semblance of security. Livia’s efforts to help her, however small, brought a modicum of comfort.

The dress, coupled with the summons to the audience hall before their annual lunch tea, hinted at a something big happening, and Celestia felt unease in the pit of her stomach.

At the very least, the nobles would be gathered, and all her older siblings present in Sol would be there.

“Thank you, Livia,” Celestia said softly. “I’ll do my best.”

Livia offered a warm smile and placed her hands on Celestia’s shoulders. “You’re strong, Lady Celestia. I believe in you.”

USD: Some time later

Location: Luna, Imperial Residency, Audience Hall

The audience hall brimmed with anticipation, its vaulted ceiling adorned with holo-projected banners from the Empire’s most illustrious houses, interspersed with those of the Imperial Family. Celestia tugged at the white lace trim encircling the neckline of her crimson and gold gown, her nerves escalating as she awaited her introduction.

Muffled chatter from the assembled nobility drifted through the partially opened main doors. Celestia’s fidgeting with the lace intensified as she struggled to rein in her anxiety.

“Lady Celestia…” Livia whispered urgently.

With a frustrated exhale, Celestia stilled her hands and endeavored to compose herself. “I’m sorry, Livi…”

Her efforts were just on time, as the grand doors swung open, revealing the resplendent hall awash in golden light. The master of ceremonies addressed the assembly, his rich voice reverberating through the chamber.

“Noble lords of the Empire, please welcome the youngest daughter of our esteemed Empress. Though tender in years, she is a beacon of hope and inspiration to us all.” The announcer said.

'Lies. The announcer always lies.'

“As the Empress’s first natural-born child, Her Imperial Highness represents the future of our great Empire! Her spirit and determination remind us of the values that have made us strong - unity, strength, and progress - and give us hope for a bright and prosperous future.” The voice carried through the hall strongly, the announcer's voice repeated by subtly hidden speakers.

'They want to know how best to exploit me.'

“Hail Her Imperial Highness Celestia Astraea Psi, Princess of Luna, and a shining star in our Empire’s future!” The announcer finished. A muted stream of clapping filled the air.

Steeling herself, Celestia strode into the hall, her gaze unwaveringly fixed upon her mother’s feet. She feigned ignorance of the condescending remarks and hushed whispers permeating the air. Her natural-born status was a recurrent topic of conversation, one she still struggled to grasp.

What she knew for sure was that it was the reason her oldest brother despised her.

Looming behind mother’s throne, her siblings that had not yet been dispatched to govern the various systems of the Empire scrutinized her every move, their penetrating gazes amplifying her sense of vulnerability.

Suppressing her fear, Celestia mustered her resolve for the impending ordeal. The memory of her first summons to the hall and the subsequent failure fortified her determination. She hadn’t been the one punished that time; instead, Livia had been whipped, and her few tutors had been replaced.

Reaching the base of the imperial dais, Celestia gracefully curtsied to her mother, who sat regally and impassively upon her throne. She maintained her subservient posture until her mother, at last, beckoned for her to approach in silence.

With her head bowed and silver curls cascading around her face, Celestia cautiously ascended the dais to kneel at her mother’s feet. A plush, red cushion awaited her, providing a modicum of comfort and elevation.

The potent aroma of her mother’s perfume filled her senses as she gingerly accepted the outstretched hand before her. Delicately pressing her lips to the cool, regal skin, she executed the gesture flawlessly, despite her racing heart. She could sense her mother’s scrutinizing gaze, unrelenting and inscrutable, bearing down upon her.