"Regal Brush." Celestia addresses, loud and firm, touching upon the Canterlot voice of old. "You've been blatantly discussing bribing the crown for the last twenty-five minutes to have the Grand Galloping Gala renamed and rescheduled to a time that would best suit the preference of your wife, no matter the impact to everypony else who might visit. Did you think of the numerous travelers, or of the Ambassadors who take time of their schedule to forge these connections? Mind you, the fee your estate has offered to cover is almost unsubstantial to the costs of the Gala itself, and would, at best, cover the cost hiring a single bellcolt. I say this with a meager level of respect that is quickly eroding, Regal. Stop. Talking." She denounces, her tone going from calm, to displeased, to heavily puncuating her words, a sting with each one uttered.