The only bit of admiration he held was for the pony who was writing the articles. She seemed bound and determined to see just how far she could stretch over the line without being rebuked, and every day that she got away with it, the more ponies she swayed over to her shining palace of lies and innuendo, and the more difficult it would be to stop her, for to penalize her now would be seen by her sycophants as an attempt at cover-up. Blueblood knew full well how much mileage she’d get out of that editorial. If she was smart—and she probably was—she’d already prepared it, ready for publication the moment she didn’t show up for work for any reason.