At the very least, Vincent received a double take or a lingering gaze for his choice in attire. For the most he heard passing whispers of both caution and intrigue. Understandably, if he was dragged by a bubbly pink mare towards a fine specimen of eco-architecture, whilst balancing his cake, then he would earn all of the above and more. Having left the empty street in a hurry it was somewhat bizarre to be thrown back into the bustling community of Ponyville. Ponies gaped at the spectacle of Pinkie Pie towing Vincent all the way across the street to Golden Oaks Library.

The library was wider than a cottage, touching three stories tall before the branches of the tree reached out with a thick covering of green leaves. Ocular windows were dotted here and there, allowing light a portal through the bark and body. Several varieties of flowers hung in baskets, ivory starting to entwine with the bannisters of balcony above. Vincent caught sight of a telescope end pointing out before Pinkie interrupted his moment of admiration.

“Well here we are, Vinny!” she said with a gesture of the hand, “Golden Oaks, home to both books and bookworms alike!” She released her grip, laughing as she skipped to the arched door. “But most importantly, Twily and Spike lives here.”

He absentmindedly flexed his freed fingers and tilted his head to the side. It made sense for Pinkie to be on informal terms with Princess Twilight. From what he had been told, the Elements were rather close prior to the Princess’ coronation—not that such a relationship surprised him.

“Spike?” Even uttering the name didn’t help him recall it, if he had ever heard it before. “Are they… a servant or…” He trailed off with a shrug, leading him to almost lose balance of the cake.

“Nope!” Pinkie replied, smiling over her shoulder as she beat a rhythm onto the door. “Spike is Twi’s assistant. I think you’ll like him. He’s the friendliest, cutest, hungriest, pudgiest little dra-”

“Come in!” The warm voice struck Vincent as prepubescent, a male one at that. “It’s a public library for crying out loud!” Definitely an early teen.

Pinkie then beckoned Vinny to follow as she bound inside. All in all, this was rather informal and completely left him stumped on what the protocol for meeting the Princess was. There were rules, social graces to keep, careful steps to follow like a gentle waltz. Members of royalty can allow slack, at their say, such as the many cases with Princess Celestia. Others prefer by the book and take greater time for even a hint of leeway, such as the case with Prince Blue Blood.

‘How does one go about being respectful to the Princess of Friendship, Avatar of Magic, defender of Equestria from two apocalypses, one invasion, who lives in a tree library open to the public?’ He scratched the back of his hood as he migrated towards the door. His mask shifted to look towards the cake still in his possession, a gentle hum escaping his head whilst it tilted in habit. ‘Maybe I do have a use for you.’

“Woah.”

His thought having been derailed by a single word lead him to freeze up and observe the male before him. Purple scales covered his short form, polished and glistening like the rich green spines arching over his head. The young reptile was wide in the face, in the jade eyes, and broader in the pudgy body. Fins protruded out the side of his head and ivory white fangs slipping over the lower lip. A spade tipped tail fell to the ground beside the waist-tall lad as he stared up with an incredulous look.

“So did the mailmares decide their new uniform by jumping into a wardrobe and falling out?” he inquired, scratching his chin with a claw. Vincent chuckled heartily as he shook his head, the sight earning a raised scale brow.

‘A drake not trying to remove something from me for once, how pleasant.’

“I wouldn’t know. I’m not part of the post,” Vincent replied with mirth in his tone, before cupping the chin of his mask in a thoughtful manner. “Mmmm, then again I suppose have been demoted to courier for today, for why I know not.” The hand fell as the young lad gave him a once over, the brow of suspicion raising higher and higher.

“Uhuh,” he replied dryly, “So you actually made the decision to wear all that.” Vincent bristled beneath the attire, fully aware of how others did perceive him, but firmly believing this was the better option. He had his reasons.

“The coat’s actually fire retardant,” Vincent stated, pulling on the right lapel, exposing more of the battered armour beneath. The slight eye bulge was satisfying. “All of it has some merits when out and about in Equestria. The breast plate too.” He offered his gloved hand to the drake.

“Ser Vincent,” he said, “and what would you like me to call you in kind, little drake?”

“Oh, I’m Spike!” His cheerful reply complimented the eager grasp and shake, as well as the motion to thumb to himself with a prideful grin. “I’m Twilight’s number one assistant.” His four-digited claw mingled neatly into the larger palm. “So, erm, are you dropping off the cake or something?”

Spike’s serpentine eyes locked onto golden sponge cake, the phantom taste of such a succulent treat moistening his lips enough to warrant a lick of a forked tongue. Both released their grasp, Spike leaning onto the tips of his pointed toes as he took a deep sniff with his dragon snout. Vincent huffed in amusement.

‘Well, at least he isn’t trying to take it by force.’

“The cake was gifted to me by Miss Pinkie Pie, speaking of which, I need to thank her for it as well as deliver a letter to the princess. Perhaps we could share it?” The prospect of free, fresh cake set Spike’s tail into overdrive. He beamed a hopeful smile.

“There’s no need to thank me, silly Vinny.” Pinkie poked her head around the door frame. “It’s a little gift from me to you to say ‘welcome to Ponyville, have a great day!’” She beckoned him in. “Twilight’s inside.”

Her kind words were welcomed, his free hand slowly closing as if to grip the sentiment. He inhaled loud enough to be heard, savouring the aroma of the cooling cake, before exhaling slowly. His gaze lowered to the young drake, who was already waddling in.

“You coming in?” he asked. Vincent nodded, deciding to knock as much dried muck from his boots as possible before entering the princess’ abode. It was only polite and common courtesy, and he was supposed to be making a good impression.

A cozy warmth embraced him, bringing the scent of aged pages and incense as the door was slammed shut. It was an intoxicating aroma, seemingly making him more alert as he gazed around the library ground floor. The wall, for it was a single round room spanning the entire trunk, was lined with bookshelf after filled bookshelf. A central table was wide enough for a large group, a wooden bust claiming it as its own and sitting in the middle; three other benches were also spotted, along with a checking desk by the door. A stairway extending out of the wall lead to the upper floor, most likely privatised for the owner given the closed doors and hung photographs.

“TWILIGHT!” Spike yelled towards a door on the side of the stair case. “You got mail!”

“I’m coming!” Vincent could hear the Canterlot cadence to the voice, memories growing distinct silhouettes in a surrounding hazy fog. Few were there, but there was enough. A stranger he never got to know, a stranger he lost desire to know as time went on, and a stranger that he learnt was the student of Princess Celestia.

The air was electric for a moment, the hairs of his tail taking on life and rising. He could sense what was coming and felt a surge near the centre, a split second before a magenta flash bathed the room. The crackling pop that followed echoed in his ears, the static buzz of magic quickly transforming to become reminiscent of wind chimes in a spring breeze.

By the table in the middle of the room, a lavender alicorn stood with her wings folded. She was on the slender side, her figure almost hourglass. He could only view her from the back. Well-groomed wings were folded and bisected by the long straight mane trailing down the centre of her back. Her groomed tail came to behind her shins, longer than most would keep, and was striking combination of dark purple streaked by a warm pink. She turned slightly, revealing the pink six pointed start orbited by five others of white: her cutie mark to symbolise magic.

“Spike, you said I have mail?” Her pert muzzle shot to the drake, revealing her bangs stopping above her brow.

Vincent never took his eyes off the alicorn, his gaze focused on her as he reached into his breast pocket. The rustle of fabric drew the attention of her pointed ear, the twitch signalling the moment she’d turn to face him. All in all, he was surprised to see the princess without any form of royal regalia—not even a crown sitting behind her horn. She bore a perplexed expression, more off guard than concerned; she blinked owlishly, her cute features contorting to relay her surprise.

“Oh, sorry, didn’t see you there.” She giggled, pleasantly enough despite her hands locking together in self-comfort.

“Please, excuse me then, your majesty,” Vincent replied, taking to a knee. His gloved hand, worn and weary, offered the sealed envelope as he kept his gaze to immaculate floorboards. “I am one of the Prince’s best stallions, and he has sent me deliver this message to you.” He heard the whispers of Blueblood’s name. He kept his mask directed to the floor.

“What does Blueblood want to say to me?” the princess inquired. The mystical sound of small bells ringing reached his ears, the letter slipping, physically requesting release to which he dutifully obliged.

“I’m not sure myself,” he admitted.

“Erm, is the cake for me too?”

Vincent’s attention shot up. Fortunately whatever horrified expression he bore was hidden beneath hood and mask as he looked between the cake and princess. This simply screamed unofficial and impolite! He was supposed to be a representative of his kind, those in the Prince’s favour, and here he was greeting a member of the royal family as if it was Celestia’s birthday!

‘Which, granted, would be fine, if it was that one alicorn princess of the four in existence!’

“It was gifted to me by Miss Pinkie Pie,” he blurted, snapping his gaze back to the ground, “I am grateful for the gift, but it does not excuse me bringing it into official matters like this—I planned to set it down and share it—“

When a chuckle escaped the princess, Vincent released a defeated sigh and clenched his fist as if to grip as much fleeting dignity as possible. Another bout of a magical melody and he felt the weight of the plate lessen until his hand was free of the delicious burden.

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it, you’re certainly not the first to have cake forced on them and thank you for the offer.” Her gratitude did ease his nerves. Instead he briefly pondered how often Miss Pinkie did roll out the welcome wagon.

“D’awww! Thanks for sharing!” Pinkie called out from the far side of the room.

“Spike, could you get a few plates and a knife?” Princess Twilight said.

“On it!” Spike replied in a heartbeat. Whilst listening to the waddle of the drake, Vincent heard Pinkie speak up.

“Hey, um, Twi, I think he’s stuck like that until you say something.”

“Huh? Oh, y-you don’t have to do anything like that, so…” There was an awkward pause before she added, with an uncertain inflection to her tone, “Arise?”

With a huff, Vincent rose to full height. There were times when wearing a fully obscuring mask posed minor inconveniences—the blank stare and hooded eye combination deterred a few—but was he ever thankful that it hid his grimace.

“So,” Princes Twilight chirped, beginning to open the letter, “I think you've got to know our names, care to share yours?” Her smile faltered when he spread his legs shoulder width apart, his arms swinging to link behind his back as he straightened up. Even with his chin raised his neck was obscured by fabric and an armoured mantle.

“I am Ser Vincent Costello, proud service stallion of the Solaris Knights and one of Prince Blueblood’s personal guards.” His tone was official. A gloved hand returned to the front, landing flat against his heart as he inclined his head in respect. The girls looked between one and other speechlessly. Simultaneously, Blueblood’s task(s) returned to his mind. “On behalf of all knights in the land, I swear to uphold the values of service to the crown to you as well, Princess Twilight Sparkle. It is an honour to be in your presence.”

“Wowee!” squealed Pinkie, bouncing towards him. She held an ecstatic shine to her eye as she leant up to him. Vincent was not one to easily welcome others into his personal space and retreated with a single step. “Like, a real monster hunting, bandit battering, sinister cult slaying, ale chugging knight!?”

He was halfway through raising a hand to stop her when it stopped and descended.

“I’ve never met an evil cult before,” he admitted, leaning further back. “I also don’t drink too often.”

“Vincent?” Twilight muttered to herself, bringing a curled finger to her lip whilst the letter slipped out of the envelope. “Why is that familiar?”

“Really?” Pinkie added, leaning further in.

“Yes.”

“Really really?” She reiterated with a higher pitch and wider grin.

“Yes.” Vincent replied flatly, backing up into a bookshelf.

“Really really reeaally?” With her pitch climbing into unheard decibels, it was difficult to tell if she added a fourth ‘really’.

He growled as he placed a hand on her shoulder and gently pushed her back.

“Yes! Please mind your space, Miss Pie.” His scolding tone was deflected by her twitching ear; Pinkie merely giggled before taking a step back. He huffed, his gloved hand reaching to his chest. “Here, my sign of authority and authentication.” He couldn’t help but let slip pride in those words.

“Prince Blueblood certainly made sure to confirm you authenticity.” Princess Twilight interjected, looking up from the letter with a pleasant smile. “Never thought him to speak so honestly… or highly of anypony, truth be told. He’s written a bit about you to avoid this sort of thing,” she finished as her eyes fell to the letter in her hands.

Her brows then burrowed together.

“As well as provide a summary of your wardrobe…”

The union split, her scowl parting as an eyebrow migrated towards her bangs. Her expression fell onto deadpan as she could be heard muttering, “Alongside what he believes to be an accurate summary of me-“

She abruptly stopped reading as she reached the bottom of the page. Vincent, having been left in the dark about the content of the letter, found the sudden silence disconcerting. Especially the way she would switch her focus between the paper and him.

“Vincent?”

When she spoke with the faintest of recognition, his heart stopped. When realisation struck her features, his hand automatically coiled in anticipation. Her deafening silence only made his thoughts echo inside his mind, a subdued panic that chilled his blood with every mental syllable. He stood still, statuesque as he bore his blank stare towards her, ignoring the other occupant’s concerned glances between him and the princess.

She knows.

Two words. Just two words were all it took to discombobulate him, to lock him in place. He hated these moments where his body and mind told him to wait for them to speak. To wait for the reaction so that he may counter. That was all he knew deep beneath the mask.

To look away.

Princess Twilight blinked, startling herself with a quick breath. Aware of the awkward position she was in, she coughed into her hand before offering an awkward smile.

“Well, you certainly look… different, heh.” He didn’t buy it. By all regards, it was a lame way to escape the realm of awkwardness. Not that he helped. The sigh of great relief that escaped him was not lost to anypony, and he chided himself for not being professional.

“N-Not really, ma’am.” He rubbed the back of his head, coughing into his own gloved hand through the mask.

“Hey, Twi!” Pinkie chimed from between the two. She shot the alicorn an inquisitive glance, tilting her head and aiming her ears forward. “Do you know Vinny?”

“Not really. I just know of him from when I was still in Canterlot studying under Princess Celestia.” Twilight’s abrupt explanation was enough to quell Pinkie’s curiosity for now.

“If I may,” Vincent interjected as politely as one hoping to derail a conversation quickly could, “I would like to relay my second reason for my presence.” He paused to pull out another parchment from his coat.

“There’s more?” It seemed Princess Twilight was just as eager as him to move on, though as to why, he was uncertain. At least Pinkie seemed merry (though he’d wager that was always the case). He cleared his throat and raised his head.

“Three days ago we lost five crates of armoury shipment when it was reported, by the same delivery team to survive the attack, that the Everfree Forest was invading the rest of Equestria.” He offered the paper to Pinkie who eagerly took hold. “I was in Trottingham at the time, with the prince, and it was rather interesting guarding the town from malicious garden weeds.”

“Oh, I get what this is about.” Twilight added with realisation blossoming on her features.

“As it is, we thought the crates were lost deep in the forest,” he continued, “Priorities were not with them after the destruction of parts of neighbouring towns, so it was deemed that only one knight was needed for the recovery.”

He tilted his head, letting the words slide further about his mind as his hidden gaze lingered on the letter. It was definitely a waste of his talents and time for him to both deliver mail and recover military cargo. True, one was a letter from prince to princess, and the other meant not letting high quality armour be lost to possible nefarious beings, but there were others for this sort of thing.

Like fresh out training recruits in need of field experience.

What really stoked the fire of suspicion was that the crates were no longer lost, so a search was not even necessary, hence why others would be better suited.

"Woah!" Everyone turned to face Pinkie, who gaped in awe -hand on cheek- at the letter. There was a moment of silence before she held the paper in front of Twilight's face. "Prince Blueblood's signature is, like, the fanciest I've ever seen!"

Twilight, after peeling the paper from her snout by hand, studied the parchment. It turned out to be a letter authenticating and designating orders of retrieval, and she read enough of her step-sister's to recognise orders directly from royalty. The page was bordered by silver, the writing an elegant cursive - written by hand, not printed- and was signed by the prince himself. What differed was that the prince didn't dot every 'i' with hearts, but instead signed off grandly by taking up the lower third of the page. And in what seemed to be liquid gold.

“We received word yesterday that these crates may have been found at a Sweet Apple Acres, and have been stored in the barn there for safe keeping.” The princess returned the order paper back to Vincent with magic. He carefully folded the letter before pocketing it.

Once again, Vincent brought his hand to his heart and bowed. “With the delivery of the letter complete, I am now to organise the collection of the crates. It has been an honour, Princess, farewell.” He turned to depart, his eyes catching a collection of potion books close to the door. That was not what stopped him however.

“Wait!”

He had a hand on the door knob when Pinkie pulled on his short tail, jerking his head up. A deathly pause lingered after. Mechanically he shifted to look over his shoulder and point a blank gaze to the pink mare. Moments before reminding her to keep her hands to herself he faltered upon spotting the wilting ears and concerned stare.

“You haven’t eaten your slice of cake yet.” Her soft words soothed him, cancelling the brief lecture he had in mind. With a huff he realised he couldn’t handle her saddened, piercing stare. “Don’t you want any?” Vincent watched her potent eyes flicker to the tail before they widened. Her grip slipped, her hands retreating to behind her back. She managed a sheepish smile.

Vincent took a moment to bring a hand to his mask, specifically slipping it under the hood before stopping the absurd act of trying to rub the eyes of his mask. A bad habit. He awkwardly retracted his hand and cocked his head to the side as he faced her.

“I had a large breakfast, so I am not in the mood for cake at the moment,” he began with a warm tone. It caused Pinkie’s ears to straighten as she brightened up visibly. “Though I suspect when I’m done I’d like a snack for the train ride home so would I be correct in believing you could save one slice?”

That brought a toothy smile to her now chipper mood. She burrowed her brows and offered a mock salute.

“Yes Sir! I won’t let you down!” He inclined his head.

“Thank you, Miss Pie.” He turned away and opened the door, but was spun back around to face her once again.

“Hey!” Pinkie prodded him in the chest, a mock scowl gracing her features, “I’ll save you a slice but you call me Pinkie Pie from now on, got it?” He raised his hands in his defense and stepped out.

“Deal.” With that he lowered his arms and straightened up. “Until later this evening, Pinkie Pie.” He offered a wave and a tilt of the head, earning an exaggerated mirrored reaction from the fuchsia mare. “And fortune bless you, Princess Twilight.” He bowed as he took a step back, looking up to spot her sitting at the central table.

She stared back at him, shooting uneasy glances between him and the letter. He stopped. Vincent could feel the inquietude in her stare; she knew and more so, judging by the way she consulted the letter before looking to him.

Finally she showed a small smile, the kind of delighted expression reserved for good story endings or pleasant news about somepony, regardless of relation. Yet, as he straightened up and kept his hidden gaze on her, he could see a flicker of something in those eyes. Something he didn’t like to see but would not voice.

“You can find Applejack in the market right about now. Come see me if you need help arranging transport, Ser Knight,” Twilight called back, “Anything to help! If it ends up easy work, why don’t you take a tour of the town?”

He returned a silent, strong nod before turning to depart. Pinkie shut the door and zipped over to the table, in time for Spike to return with a sour expression.

“Twi, I don't care if it's spatially optimu-opti- better, could you please stop moving my kitchenware around?” he complained as he planted the freshly cut cake onto the table. He shook his head as he nabbed a quarter slice in his claw. Before he was about to take a bite he noticed somepony missing. “So where’s the weirdo?” he commented as he scanned the room.

“Spike!” Twilight chided. Her frown was met with a slight wince before the drake piped up.

“Come on Twi, don’t you think there was something a little off about that guy?”

“Yeah!” Pinkie chirped, stealing their attention from where she perched herself on table surface, “I mean, who isn’t ever in the mood for cake?!” She scoffed before poaching her slice and stuffing it into her mouth. She merrily chewed as Spike shot her a deadpanned stare.

“Is that all?” he said dubiously.

“Uhuh,” she replied with a vigorous nod and bulging cheeks. Pinkie gulped hard before licking the sugar frosting from her lips with an audible slurp.

“Nothing strange about… you know… the outfit and the mask?” he prodded further, rolling his free claw.

“Well, yeah, but he seems like a nice stallion, and he’s a real knight! So what?” Pinkie replied with a shrug. Spike worked his jaw, opening and closing it before releasing a defeated sigh and chomping into his cake slice. Twilight chuckled, levitating a slice for herself and rereading the letter.

“I guess if it’s silly but works… no it’s still pretty silly that it actually works,” she mumbled before taking a small bite. With a flash the letter was gone, hidden away in her room.

Author's Notes:

Thank you to all who like and favourite my story.