By the second book, or record to be more precise, Princess Twilight had a vague idea of what was going on.

The first record was of a Private Apollo, a skilled archer and talented musician. The thin record revealed few missions, mostly how the earth pony had made skilled shots and won various trophies, even pointing out that at a young age he was a future candidate for the Equestrian Games. The Prince pointed out that for what he’d be doing if chosen, it would be best to choose someone with more than two years of experience in service overall.

“Is it that important? He seems talented.” Twilight inquired moments before flipping the cover page. Her eyes were drawn up by his amused huff.

“All of them are talented, Princess Twilight.” He tidied the rose in his front pocket, maintaining an air of grace whilst doing so. “I wouldn’t stifle talent; the natural capability of a pony is not restricted by class, race, or experience – those aspects merely help, some more than others.” He looked to her with a neutral glance, though she saw his cold eyes studying her. “If he’s the one you believe is best, then by all means, choose him.”

She glanced down to the newer dossier, still in her hands but with the cover open. This time a lieutenant Burner looked back. He was cute, she gave him that, despite the mug shot styled identification photo. This one was a unicorn of scarlet and blue, rugged and a few years older. Naturally his file was a little bit thicker. But not the thickest.

Upon arriving at a familiar library, Ser Vincent silently slipped to the front. The guards were generally stone faced even whilst on the move, but as the false-stallion brushed past one of the golden unicorns he heard a sharp intake of air. Every guard knew of Ser Vincent, but nopony knew who he was, or what he actually was beneath all that clothing and armour. These guards were no different. He left the two royals to the care of the four guardsmen and stood before the door, looking back to them.

“I’ll just perform a quick sweep.” His gaze shifted between the two forward guards. “I want you two positioned at the rear of the building, watch the upper branches.” After a swift nod they marched on, splitting to move around the treehouse on both sides. “You two remaining will guard the front.”

“There’s really no need,” Princess Twilight insisted, stepping forward. When the guards didn’t stop Twilight pressed on, walking towards Ser Vincent with a shaky smile. She was met not only with his stoic masked stare but also Blueblood walking briskly to keep up.

“Princess Twilight, please, this is merely formality.” He said with an airy wave of his hand before he lowered it to gesture to Golden Oaks Library. “Shall we?” he asked with a small smile beneath calm diamond blue eyes. He was now holding his expensive briefcase with his other hand.

“I…suppose its fine,” she replied with slight apprehension. “Forgive me, but I’ve only really seen Celestia have guards surround her, kind of weird being the one surrounded.” She stepped forward, her smile smaller but still warm.

“I suspected as much.” He released a terse sniff. That earned an arched brow and a skewed glance from Vincent. “Have you really not been conferring with my aunt about what to expect?”

“She has helped but this is… not something she was actually aware of until late.” She replied, eyeing Vincent with uncertainty. “I’ve been talking with her since you know.”

His Majesty sighed as they walked past the knight, stopping by the door. He rubbed his temple before opting to comb his mane with a finger. “I’m sure you have, but this is something you don’t need her advice with, Princess Twilight.”

She eyed him with scepticism, folding her arms under her bust but maintaining a polite, kind look. Really? Was he really suggesting not to talk to her old mentor about something like this? What next, telling academic to abandon peer review methods? “Consider this where I’m the faucet of wisdom.”

“You know, you can call me Twilight, the other princesses do, including Cadence.” He rolled his eyes in response, an act that made Ser Vincent move to rub the bridge of his nose. He stopped himself before touching his mask, thankfully.

“That’s fine for them, Princess Twilight.” The prince nodded towards the door but never took his eyes off her. “So if we can, shall we start this meeting?” Twilight glanced to Ser Vincent, more so to redirect the small frown from its source, and found him staring out to the curious crowd.

One merely had to look for long enough and those that recall the knight without his mask were painstakingly obvious. Other gawked and peered at the two royals whereas they would whisper and point just past her. At the knight. He was once again unreadable behind that mask, heck, she was certain he was catching her in the corner of his eye but paid her no heed. If he was scowling with righteous rage or maintaining a statuesque stoicism she doubted she’d ever know looking to his second face.

“…You’re right, we should probably address the issue before anything else.” She turned to look to Spike, who was already holding the door open for them. He inclined his head, bowing low and grandly.

“Welcome to Golden Oaks Library.” His announcement was in reverence and it brought a slight grin to royal bachelor’s maw. “There are snacks and nibbles beyond the centre table, Prince Blueblood.” He lost his newly founded optimism for the drake.

“Servants refer to the royals as ‘Your Grace, Majesty, or Lordship. Those closer refer to me as Prince Blueblood.” It was at this that Twilight stepped forward, the fiery glare she bore born from a protective elder sibling. She entered and confronted the prince head on.

“Spike is my personal assistant. He is not my butler.” In response to the edge in her words the prince paused, eyes though widening seeming coolly indifferent. He regarded Spike with an over-the-nose stare, the drake firing back a defiant glare of his own, before lowering his muzzle and conceding a nod.

“Granted then, I’ll let it slide. He is not your servant,” he said stepping further in and taking a seat at the table, “But he will still address me as such.” Peering in, Vincent saw Princess Twilight burning a glare into the back of His Majesty’s head. He reached for one of the many stuffed, square pockets along his belt.

‘I’d rather not face down an alicorn, especially a prodigy of magic. As last stands go at least I’ll be remembered.’ When she snapped her attention to him he offered a silent and weary shake of the head in the form of an apology. ‘For dying for another stallion’s pride… Fates I hope they rewrite my tragic demise altogether.’

“Oh, and Ser Vincent?” His attention switched to His Majesty, Twilight’s ears twitching as she turned to look back as well. The Prince didn’t fully look over his shoulder as he spoke, instead opting to open his briefcase. “You have my permission to take time for yourself. It should only be an hour and half or so.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Ser Vincent’s reply didn’t earn His Grace’s attention. Instead, Prince Blueblood reclined further into his seat, turning to overlook him and regard the princess with an oddly smug smirk. She in turn rubbed the back of her head before walking to meet him at the table.

“Fine.” Was all she said before she took her seat opposite the prince, a thought creasing her brow. “Shall we begin?” Ser Vincent easily found her reply strange but without context he knew he’d be in the dark about that.

Ser Vincent turned away as the door closed on him. He stood close to the door, his mask moving as he scanned the slowly dissipating crowd. The regular guards were a few paces ahead of him. They would serve as a basic front-line defence, ensuring that anypony wouldn't be disturbing the royals as they worked. Vincent only had to intervene if it was anything too much for them to handle. In most cases, guards had their stations to attend to and Vincent followed the Prince. He was usually in the same room but the Prince had asked to give him privacy as he talked to Princess Twilight on some matters. He didn’t like, nor did he dislike the addition of two more guards. Even at somepony else’s villa there were only two other guards on hand. Not that they were needed with him there.

“So hey, don’t I recognise you two?” The familiar raspy voice made his hand curl, a chill running through his spine. It was silly really. He shouldn’t be so shaken. He made to move around the side of the library, his body twisting but his mask locked between the back of the front guards’ helmets.

“You two please remain vigilant here. I’m going to see who’s pestering our rear guards. Understood?” His voice was polite and warm, his default natural tone really.

“Aye, Ser Knight,” came the simultaneous reply of both guardsmen. With that the knight migrated to the back of the library.

“Yeah, those guys didn’t talk either.” As soon as he was close enough, the lounging form of a hovering pegasus floated lazily into view. She was level with the lowest branch, likely why she was beyond the reach of the tree’s green crown. Her wings gently beat as she drifted upside down, her rainbow mane and tail hanging limply as she stared at the rear guards with a bored expression. “Kinda killed the conversation, you know?”

The silent guards stood proud as the undeterred sentinels they were. Statues of fine marble brought from Canterlot itself, clad with golden boots and armour, bearing their weapons vigilantly, but most of all, wearing Princess Celestia’s mark with pride. A curious cyan mare was not worthy of distraction.

Even if she did groan.

“Miss Dash?” His voice alarmed the mare, her form shaking as she self-righted to find him approaching her. A pleasantly surprised smile reached her amethyst eyes.

“Hey, Vinnie! Back so soon?” Before speaking up to the mare, Vincent caught the flicker in the ears of the guards. Could have been reflex but the fact that they didn’t move to face forward again revealed otherwise. How unprofessional.

“Well, we do as the job instructs, right?” He offered a friendly voice despite his reservations. He’s not here for chit-chat, he’s here to kindly tell her to stop bothering the guards. “And it’s Ser Vincent.” She arched and brow and raised her hands as she drifted towards him.

“Okay, Ser Vincent, I get it, you’re on the clock.” She touched down with a clop and her wings closed behind her back. She shifted her weight to one side, resting her hand above her cutie mark on the other hip. “I’m guessing you can tell me when Twi’s gonna be done.”

“His Majesty informed me that it shouldn’t take too long.” His statement came with him holding his gloved hands behind his back, his coat opening up a little as he stood broad chested and tall. He did so out of natural habit; he was being open yet stating he didn’t have much else to say through body language. It helped make up for the blank stare courtesy of the mask.

“And how longs that?” She folded her arms under her small bust and began tapping the toe of her hoof against the stone floor. She then thumbed over her shoulder. “It’s just ‘cause me and the girls are gonna go on a picnic so we’re waiting on Twilight.”

“I suppose it will feel as long as an hour and a half does to you, Miss Dash.”

She groaned louder, wings rustling as her tail whipped. She then scrunched her muzzle as she took on a contemplative look, her eyes eventually falling onto him. She regarded him with a grin. He met her with a tilted stare. “Say, you never did get around to telling me any awesome stories.”

He still kept his head askew, a face of confusion hidden behind the mask. When, exactly, did he agree to that? He recalled that she had asked that of him during his previous time in Ponyville. Or rather she had insinuated it was going to happen. ‘Let’s nip this one in the bud.’ Whatever next? Was she going to ask him to speak without the mask? He had a job to do and he was going to do it without scaring somepony else.

“And I’m likely not to, I’m afraid,” he commented with disheartened deception, his mask leveling as he shook his head. “I’m on duty so I’m afraid there’s no time for pleasantries.” He gestured past her, his tone taking on a polite sincerity. “So I’m afraid I need to ask you to vacate the premise if you have no further business, Miss Dash. I’m sorry, I mean no disrespect.” She scoffed but smirked.

“Dude, I get it. Blueblood’s watching his back because he’s got Rarity and AJ miffed.” Miss Applejack harboured a grudge against the Prince? That was new, and more of a reason to stand guard. He stepped forward, closing the distance between the two but keeping her at arm’s length. She wilted in form but still stood her ground.

“They’re not threats are they?” His tone was cold like an overhanging icicle as he peered down to the shoulder high mare. Immediately she burst out laughing, clutching her gut as she chuckled. He glanced to the other guards, both of which were looking past her but had their ears still locked onto their conversation. Again, how unprofessional.

“S-sure, Applejack’s just waiting to apple pie the guy and Rarity’s just waiting throw a hissy fit.” She sniffed between huffs of amused breathes, an amused smile on her maw. “AJ’s not gonna risk being taken off the farm and Rarity, well, she made it pret-ty clear she wanted nothing to do with the guy.”

‘Makes sense. Miss Apple Bloom made it clear that her sister and her brother pulled the most weights on their farm. So losing a good worker could be detrimental.’ He nodded his head in absent thought, glancing towards the curious passers-by across the street. Miss Rarity seemed to have made peace with His Majesty, but it’s just an uneasy truce. Same thing, just with a few more cracks in the works.’

“So about those stories, do you guys take breaks or…”

“No, I don’t get breaks—“

“Liar!” A sugary voice startled the knight, especially since it came from above. Miss Dash, the guards, and himself looked up to find Miss Pinkie Pie sitting in the branches. Her legs swung out, her smile beaming down as her eyes narrowed playfully. “Somepony’s pants are on fire~” she sung, her tail swinging side to side as she looked up through the canopy with a thoughtful expression.

“Which is a weird thing to say since ponies don’t normally wear pants, but maybe it’s because they catch fire that we don’t wear any.” Whilst Dash smiled and shook her head, Ser Vincent peered up and regarded her silently. He heard the guards rustling beside him. A stunned quiet soon thickened the atmosphere as Vincent slowly lowered his gaze.

‘They missed this?’

“Miss Pie… get down.” His voice was soft but absolute.

“Hey!” She pushed herself off the branch and landed before him, springing back up to come uncomfortably close the knight. “What did I say about that? Hmmmm?” She emphasised her offended nature by tilting her head to the side in order to glare him down with one wide eye. “Hmmmmm?!”

He chose not to believe that the curl of her mane also prodded him between the eyes of the mask. Instead, swiftly but gently, he clamped his hands on her upper arms. The act didn’t deter her but her resistance in standing her ground was for nought when she was slid back with little effort.

“…Pinkie Pie,” he began as he released her, his voice lukewarm, “It would be best not to linger too close, the guards might mistake you for trying to break into the meeting.” Mechanically, Ser Vincent looked over his shoulder and looked to the guard with the ear turned to his little talk.

‘I’ll best have a few quiet words about his awareness.’

“I know that Prince Blueblood just said that you can take a break,” Pinkie said whilst patting his shoulder. He looked back to her, lowering his head as a dog looks down to a pup. She smiled innocently. “So I was thinking we could go to Sugarcube corner and you can tell stories, then I can bring food out to everypony, and then we come back here, and we get to take Twilight on a picnic and you get to take the Prince home! Win Win!”

Eating with others? That meant removing his mask. Eating with strangers in a town where some shy away for knowing what lies beneath the mask, whilst leaving the Prince alone? Was he to abandon his duties to simply for R&R? He was recovering and a simple job like this was basically a pre-warm-up warm-up. Sure, his legs did ache and his left hand still stung with every micro-movement; a bit more rest would be nice. He also had back up.

‘Then again… this is one of the few times that regular guards would be enough. Princess Twilight can fend for herself and others.’

He shook those thoughts out of his head before looking down to the hopefully smiling Miss Pie—Pinkie Pie… he meant Pinkie Pie.

“I’m sorry, I’m on duty.” He stepped to the side and glanced between both of them before his vacant stare looked towards where he gestured out and away from the library. “For the time being these premises are strictly off-limits for civilians. I’m afraid I need to ask you to leave.” With wilted ears and less poof to her mane, Miss Pie pursed her lips and nodded. Her sad blue eyes looked to Dash who offered a shrug.

“Fine.” Miss Dash frowned as she moved to pull Pinkie along by the hand. “If you do wanna take a break, you can find us at Sugarcube corner.” The fuchsia mare turned to look to the cyan pegasus as she took to the air, hand still gripped.

“But Dashie, he won’t know where it is!” Pinkie’s comment earned a pink eye roll moments before Rainbow shot the knight a look.

“I don’t think he minds.”

Ser Vincent remained quiet as he watched the two leave, half out of protocol to ensure they didn’t make any attempts to return as he back was turned. He remembered that he sent the guards ahead of him to secure the back, and that they overlooked this mishap was troubling. As he spun around and migrated towards the guard that still had an ear pointed to him-- instead of using it to survey the surroundings-- he could still hear Miss Pie shouting.

“It’s near the town hall, Vinnie! Third street from to the left and then a right when you find Fridges and Pianos! Okay Dash, take us away! Wheee!”

“PINKIE!”

“Maybe if I bring something, that might change his mind!”

‘If that shop name is literal then what a bizarre choice of goods to sell.’ Silently, he crept upon the gold clad guard, his hidden gaze locked onto the flickering ear. He glanced to the guard partner, finding him focusing ahead and upon the surrounding area, rather than Vincent and his little talk.

As he slipped his mask’s muzzle between the spear and the guards head, his gloved hand fell hard upon the shoulder. He felt the guard shudder and freeze, as if he had fallen victim to paralytic poison. Ser Vincent wasn’t cruel, but the guard was supposed to have swept the area before taking his position here. He’d need a little… reminder.

He spoke with warm words into the guard’s ear.

“Excuse me, but my curiosity has the best of me.” The guard, stoic in face but fearful in the eye, looked to his side and found Vincent’s mask mere inches from the corner of his sight. “I’m having difficulty in processing just how a Canterlot royal guard manages to miss a pink earthpony in a tree.” The knight gave the guard a squeeze, hardly felt through the armour he was sure. “Care to explain?”

He dropped his grip and moved ahead to stand before the guard, moving to reachable distance with the sun on his back. It highlighted the quick-fix patch on his shoulder, the shadow of the knight reaching waist high on the guard.

“Ser, I cannot. She was not there when I walked by.” His voice was strong, rich, but monotone as he avoided eye contact with the masked knight. “My apologies.”

“It’s not my record you tarnish,” Vincent replied with a voice like course rock, folding his arms and leaning in. “But Blueblood’s life you might risk.” He kept the stance, akin to how a vulture peers down upon prey drawing its last breathe. Finally, after a solid minute, the guard met him in the eye. Then, with a voice like a passing winter breeze, he spoke. “Please act your best. I won’t mention it but… if something had gone wrong you’d answer to command, Princess Celestia, and then…”

Vincent stepped forward, bringing his muzzle merely centimetres from the guards. With the shadow of the mask thickening under the hood, the bright sun behind it, it made what glimmer of sharp malachite all the dangerous.

“…Me.” That was all he said as he stepped back, quickly averting his gaze. Ser Vincent hoped he wasn’t too harsh, but the stallion should know what guard duty meant, and the degree of professionalism and performance to be expected. He’d await the same thing if he missed Miss Pie in the tree. He saw the muscle of the unicorn’s neck move as he silently gulped before offering a stern nod in response.

“Th-thank you, ser. I will be on my best from here on out.”

“Take it to heart but don’t take it personally,” Ser Vincent responded coolly with an exaggerated bow of the head. “I’m sure it may have been a mistake, but as guards we shouldn’t make the easy ones. I trust you can manage not letting ponies through the back?” He glanced between both guards, earning a curt nods.

“Excellent… then I’m off.” Ser Vincent then clapped his hands together and turned on his heel. Both guards blinked, glancing to one and other before the second guard called out.

“Ser Knight? What do you mean?”

“There’s no way you missed Miss Pie, sorry, Pinkie Pie announcing that she was coming back. If I’m not here then she will quickly leave you alone and it will make your work easier. Remain alert.” They heard him sigh, his steps slowing as if pensive. “She’s the type to follow through on promises.”

“And what do we tell the Prince?” The first called out, making the knight stop in his tracks. They saw him quickly scan his surroundings, his mask glancing to the more open areas to the right rather than the urban parts of town. The wind passed by, stroking that short tail and flicking his coat as he looked to the sky. With a slowly clenching fist, Ser Vincent gazed back over his shoulder.

“I shouldn’t be too long to warrant worry nor for you to have to tell him in the first place.” He glanced down, his blank face pausing before he looked forward and set off.

“But just in case, inform him that I’m off to find a reason to visit this strange town.”