Once the stallion had left the room, Lyra let out a long breath and leaned into Dale. She'd felt like she’d been under a microscope the whole time Fancy Pants was questioning her, and it hadn't helped that he'd left her worried about tomorrow and worried about the trial. She should have realized she was going to have to give a speech—it was so obvious; a pony didn't just get a position like this without thanking everypony and shaking a few hooves.