As the night became day, the morning rays danced through the curtains, gently tugging on the eyelids of the mare in the crystal castle. She awoke, not at once, not with haste, but rather that of somepony with every mystery solved, every predicament preempted, ready for the day to sweep her away.
The castle was an essential component of her routine: Ten laps through the halls around the Cutie Map Foyer, a quick rinse, a hearty breakfast hoof-made from the kitchen, a checklist of the day’s duties. In Canterlot, as in Ponyville.
A brief knock on the palace door. Odd, she thought. If the mailmare needed her attention, she would fly in from the window. What would throw off her day?
She pushed open the door. Oh. Her.
Again.
“Look,” Rainbow Dash said, “it’s been two weeks. You have to leave, and you understand why.”
The mare looked her up and down. “Do you have a meeting scheduled, Mrs. Dash? If you need a formal audience, you should have said so the last time you stopped by.”
A glare. “This is the last warning you’ll get. The Princesses said after two weeks, the Elements of Harmony will have to work together to solve this problem. You can leave now, or Applejack and I will personally drag you out.”
An empty threat. “Oh? Did I not tell you? Last week, the county formally acknowledged this building as government property. Given its vacated status, this is certainly a proper allocation of resources, don’t you agree?”
“Twilight and Spike have been gone for two moons! The castle is still in use!”
“Oh, it certainly is. I’ve renovated the entire third floor. Local productivity is through the roof!” She caught a glimpse of the staircase, a moment away from her month’s work. “Oh, if only you appreciated it.”
“Renovations! It’s not yours! You can’t build in there!”
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Dash, but if you want to discuss fund allocation, you’ll definitely have to call beforehoof. Now, if you have no other preoccupations, I will return to my workday. I suggest you do the same.”
She slammed the door shut. Not to be rude, of course. You can only close such a magnanimous door so gently. Mrs. Dash was only being cautious, and who could fault her after such grand changes? Oh, she was getting caught up again. No more trivial matters, she thought. Back to work.
Mayor Mare trotted up the staircase. Ahead of her were the complete archives of Ponyville, migrated from Town Hall. What was once a cluttered maze of unorganized organizers in a decrepit office was now shelves of tabulated tax returns, displays of deeds and a sole station for her work, located in the tallest building in Ponyville. No beasts to burn documents, no constant construction.
Would the princess not be proud of this transformation? Sure, Ms. Glimmer was to be the chosen warden of the castle, but when the princess see’s what she’s done with the place, there would be no shadow of the doubt that her, the Mayor, deserved to look after the castle.
The Ponyville castle.

===

A knock at the door. A knock? No, it was more violent than that. Mayor Mare collected the strewn papers from the sudden jolt into a pile before peering out from the balcony. Far beneath her was Ms. Pie of Ponyville, heaving a large lumber log towards the castle. Was she breaking in? Doesn’t she know it’s a pull door?
Another slam knocked her to the ground. Standing up, she noticed the sheaf of papers on her desk stood still. Amazed, she steeled herself. Remember what you’re fighting for.
She looked down at the pink pony, now staring straight up. She waved. The mayor waved back. What in the name of Celestia was she doing?
“What in the name of Celestia are you doing!” boomed the princess. Out from behind the castle, the princess flew in, her assistant beside her.
Finally, thought the mayor, the princess has returned! The voice of reason to deal with these pesky ponies! She observed from on high, ready to announce her successes to her fellow body of government.
A few minutes passed. The mayor noticed the clouds gently moving overhead. Well, she thought, this will resolve itself soon. Back to filing those contracts.
Before she retreated back inside, Twilight appeared on the balcony, a burst of magic trumpeting her arrival. “Mayor Mare,” Twilight began, “Can we talk for a moment?”
The mayor circled back. “Oh, Princess, so glad to see you! Congratulations on your return, I’m sure your travels have left you exhausted on your arrival. Did Ms. Pie let you in?”
A blank stare. “Mayor, Pinkie says that Rainbow Dash contracted her to break into the castle.”
“The nerve! This is a formal government building! Certainly the Elements of Harmony don’t wield such status!”
“A government building? Was the castle incorporated into Ponyville?” Twilight panicked. “Wait, did we sign that? Is the land zoned for a castle? Why is this coming up now!”
“Great questions, Twilight,” the mayor said, guiding Twilight over to the seat in front of her desk, “and we can discuss this now, considering I’ve been trawling the archives for these past few weeks for information about this,” she motioned around, “property.”
Twilight glanced away. “Actually, let’s discuss this later. Spike and I need to rest first. We can talk this tomorrow.” She paced towards the door, paused and looked around. “Is this my room?”
“Your room was relocated to the North tower. This is the governor’s office now.”
“Ponyville has a governor?”
“Well, not really a governor position. But, as the highest position of power in local governance, one can say I qualify as a pony who governs.”
Twilight shifted. Something clicked in her mind. “Alright, Mayor. I need you to tell me what you’ve done. All of it.”
The Mayor grinned. She understands, She understands! Finally, a pony who understands! Once the princess hears about the progress she’s made, the workflow optimizations, the synergistic sheafs! She will keep this castle for herself. For Ponyville!

===

She didn’t understand.
“Sorry, Mayor,” the princess apologized. “I know you believed in what you were doing, but you can’t usurp a castle and weasel your way out of using the proper channels.”
The mayor sat in front of Town Hall. Her organization was stuffed back into the basement, waiting for another mare to come crashing down and burn a week’s worth of progress away. Her luxurious hallways reduced to shuffling between cabinets.
“It’s okay, Mayor!” Pinkie interjected. “I tried to move Sugarcube Corner into the castle’s kitchen back when it appeared! I know how you feel.”
The mayor glanced at Pinkie. Somehow, Pinkie must have known how much she reminded the mayor of herself in her youth. She stood up and wiped away tears that never formed. “Alas, I can tell when my foolishness overwhelms me. Thank you, Ms. Pie.”

(I don’t know how to end this properly. I also don’t have time.)