This is what she’d always wanted. There she was, in the ballroom of Canterlot Palace, at the Grand Galloping Gala, in a beautiful dress, dancing the night away. There was a live orchestra playing a lineup of mostly waltzes with a few lively polkas and two-steps thrown in for some excitement. And, to crown it all off, there was a handsome colt dancing with her: pleasant-faced, broad-shouldered, well-trimmed, and sharp-looking in his tailored tailcoat and starched collar. He was a tall one, too; tall enough to look proper next to Artemis, from what she could tell in her stolen glances towards the thin mirrors that hung between the row of doors to the main hall.