The fridge was empty and Vincent had finished breakfast.

Back in Canterlot Castle this usually meant that Ser Vincent could talk to Platinum Service, Prince Blueblood’s lifelong butler, about what he’d like to eat that evening. Of course, this was not to say that Platinum served the knight as he did His Majesty, rather, the loyal servant ensured the human was just as well looked after by the rest of the staff. The fact that this was endorsed by the prince himself helped as well. At least twice a week both the knight and the prince shared a breakfast in each other’s company, largely due to differences in demanding duties.

Room service was essentially at his liberty to use and whenever he used it he ate in his room, greeting the servant girl with his usual attire. He was friendly and tried not to be intimidating… as one could be to an herbivore serving pork chops or fine salmon meals to sate his appetite. Well at least fish could be passed off as a pegasus delicacy. He wasn’t surprised when, after five years and changing staff, betting pools and whispers about who and what the Nopony was appeared. Of course for the veterans of service to the castle, it was both easy laughs and money when Vincent’s parents came by.

Now? He was miles away from Service who was in all likelihood presenting Blueblood his morning meal, miles away from anypony who understood the needs of Ser Vincent. Canterlot itself had a wide variety of restaurants to eat from, and in emergency cases, he could dine at his father’s establishment… still away from the staff’s eyes.

Here? There was nowhere he could show his face and so he hid away from the eyes of the public beneath his mask. A fact made more pronounced as he walked through the market square of Ponyville, the palpable sense of attention making his skin crawl and fingers coil inside the gloves. The air was warm and the sunlight oppressively cooking him from inside his armour. Sweat ran down his neck and soaked into the cloth that guarded it from exposure, chilling like the anxiety sliding down his spine.

‘Nothing when compared to Saddle Arabia.’

Except deserts didn’t stare back, or even if the sand dunes did have eyes, he wore a more scene-blending coat and pants. The human was always hard to spot, hidden beneath mask and hood, misdirecting with pony gloves and a false tail.

But as he walked past the stalls, through crowds of ponies unwittingly like a shark amidst a school wary of fish, slipped by the group of friends talking in the middle of the path, he could do nothing but glance into the eyes of those who looked back. Most knew, he could tell, for even as he walked tall and head level, should he glance to the side with his malachite eyes they’d catch a pony looking back. Then these Equestrians would – whether out of instinct or not – look away.

For some ponies in this town the illusion had been broken.

His troubled thoughts were brought to an abrupt close as he spied a large produce stand, one of the typical grand affairs; blue tent pitched over a counter, several delectable vegetables on offer, alongside a selection of nuts and dried fruits. The stallion working the stand was on the slender side with fingers like fresh roots as he put out a selection of peppers.

A lot happened as the knight walked over. The stallion in question paled at Vincent’s approach, the ghostly green fur of his turning white as his ears shot up. Offering some comfort, he resorted to an old tactic of not look the vendor in the eye, instead pointing the mask towards a few onions and potatoes that took his fancy. Inside, Ser Vincent sighed as one or two customers glanced behind and immediately ‘looked elsewhere’ and left as the knight joined the queue.

Nervous glances or tempted-twists of the ears back were a sight that made him roll his stone-green eyes under the mask. Ser Vincent stood behind a youthful mare, a good distance too with his arms folded and his attention on anything but her.

“Um, a small bag of potatoes and four carrots please.” He couldn’t see the front of her but she shuffled and shrunk, shoulders slump and her weight constantly switching hooves, tail tucking slightly as he stood out of arms reach. That was literally all he was doing to scare this mare: standing still.

“Sure thing, Butterscotch, five bits.” The stallion got to work, filling a paper sack before putting it all on the counter. The mare quickly dropped her coins, a few extra bits more than required Vincent noted, and quickly scampered off with her goods. He would have put it down to a generous tip if she hadn’t glanced back over her shoulder as she galloped off.

‘Must be busy.’ No, he didn’t believe himself when he thought that.

“Good morning,” Ser Vincent said merrily despite a foreboding feeling growing in his gut. He offered a cordial nod of the head, pointing the mask to the side of the vendor. “Ser Vincent Costello, of the Solaris Knights. I’m new, recently been stationed her to guard the Princess.” He vaguely nodded back in the general direction of the library.

That was simple and easy. A polite and respectful “Hello I’m new to the area,” as far as the knight was aware. He’d heard and used worse back in Canterlot and in the western trading ports on the fringes of Prance. The stallion didn’t seem all that pleased however, and Vincent took a moment to study the guarding stance the pony took.

“Nice to know, so what do you want?” Ears forward, teal eyes sharp and pointed at Ser Vincent’s mask, tail twitching, and he was leaning forward onto the stand, protectively over a few hazel nuts. Evidently, the stallion had already made up his mind about the knight.

“Oh just a few nuts and dried fruits, specifically half a kilo of almonds, and another half a kilo of hazelnut.” Vincent brought the glove up to the muzzle of the mask as if in deep thought. He then pointed towards the produce to his left, “Three carrots, half a kilo of broccoli and two cucumbers too, if you’d be so kind.”

“Eighteen bits.”

The only reason Vincent knew he his jaw had dropped was because he felt his chin crash into the bottom of the long pony mask. For eighteen bits, in certain circles, he could afford a stem of a potent paralytic tulip imported from Minos, strong enough to put an ursa minor to sleep in an instant. For eighteen bits, he could have two leaves of a flower that made him see in the dark for four seconds a piece, meaning they’d make an excellent main ingredient for nocturnal vision enhancing potions. For eighteen bits a tour guide from gryphonia would point him towards a forest where a fungus grew that could potentially be used to replace broken sensory neurons in his skin.

For eighteen bits he could afford a decent main course in the standard Canterlot restaurant.

“I beg your pardon? Did you say eight?” He must have misheard.

“Eighteen.” The stallion huffed before tapping the base of his pointed ears. “Must be hard to hear things with that hood up, huh?” he added with a subtle disdainful manner. It was the kind of professionalism that Vincent had a shred of respect for, a sort of, cruel politeness that showed how unwelcomed he was.

“You can’t possibly expect me to accept that pricing,” Vincent rebutted with a shake of the head, arms folded, “If you wanted to rip me off in a somewhat convincing way you should have started at eight.”

“Well it is what is, pal, sorry,” the vendor replied, faux sympathy covering for a complete absence of sincerity.

“For some reason I doubt that,” Ser Vincent said with his voice growing cold. “I won’t be paying that much, in fact, I doubt anypony would pay that much.”

“You’re probably right,” the earthpony replied with a nod, eyes darting the busy market and back to the knight. He scowled. “Nopony would.”

There was a short, pregnant pause where in the two faced each other off. The stallion growing restless as the knight froze, statuesque and simply staring back at the tail-twitching vegetable vendor. Oh, Ser Vincent was very, very much aware of the stares he was getting from potential customers. Goosebumps ran across his body whenever he thought about it.

Then he chuckled, a soft baritone reverberating through the mask, subdued and at a volume only he and the stallion could hear. It was a mocking laughter, for Ser Vincent was very much aware of why the produce seller wanted him gone, for one reason and another.

“Trust me, the Nopony wouldn’t. You have a problem with me, a knight, buying from you?” Vincent asked.

“Never, but you aren’t buying are you? So…” The stallion shrugged, still eyeing the large vacant space around the armoured… thing that kept ponies from approaching. “Look, if you don’t like the pricing go elsewhere. I ain’t one to haggle so don’t take it too hard--”

“Fine.”

“Huh?” The stallion blinked, ear a twitch.

Ser Vincent simply shrugged. “I see there’s no way of convincing you so I’ll just have to look elsewhere for what I want.” He then turned on the spot and stepped to the side of the tented stand and simply surveyed the marketplace. For a while this left the stallion content enough to go back to business, a sigh of relief even escaping him as he relaxed his stance. Patrons would return and his almost-modest income would return.

Except that’s not how things went.

He had no customers at all for the passing half an hour. Not one usually to brag but he was a fairly popular produce vendor in this town, not enough to say, be the go to guy but close enough. He had a decent price range too… for ponies. So the fact that nopony was queuing up was troublesome. That is until he realised why.

He followed the wary gazes of would-be customers, all of which, leading to the knight that stood off to the side. He huffed in bewilderment, watching the knight casually bring his gloved hand to his chin and look upon the market ponderously.

“Hey!”

To this the… thing pretending to be a pony mechanically turned its head over its shoulder, as if it had been disturbed.

“Yes?”

“I thought you said you were going somewhere else?”

“Looking, my fine gentlestallion, looking elsewhere.” Ser Vincent returned to gazing upon the market, hands swinging to link behind his back.

“You, uh, think you could do it elsewhere?” The stallion asked with a frown.

“I could look anywhere, but you see, I may never find what I’m looking for.” Vincent glanced to his left, tilting his head. He wasn’t looking for anything at all for that matter.

“Oh, yeah, well, maybe I can point you the right way,” the stallion replied, a practiced smile growing along with his irritation, “Save you standing around for a long time.”

“You need not worry, I’ve been on guard for Prince Blueblood whilst he attended important functions, had to wait vigilantly for hours until I had to escort him back to the palace.” Ser Vincent turned to step before the entrance. “Once waited all day whilst up to my waist in mud to catch a low grade chimera.”

Slowly and with the prowl of a bear entering another’s den, Ser Vincent walked back into the tent and up to the stand. He bore the tilt of the head as he lowered his gaze so that, even though his muzzle was pointed down, the stallion could feel the cold stone glare of the knight.

“I’m looking for half a kilo of almonds, and another half a kilo of hazelnut, three carrots, half a kilo of broccoli and two cucumbers all for less than eight bits too.” He watched the vendor swallow a dry throat as he tried to return to hovering over his counter, but Vincent cut him off. The knight leant over, hands firmly fixed on the surface and the stallion leaning away. “Please.”

He titled his head the other way as he stood tall. “I’m very patient so take your time. Then I’ll be out of your mane soon enough.”

“Ser Vincent?”

Both looked back to the entrance, finding a familiar apple farmer hauling three bushels of apples in a small wooden box.

“Good morning, Miss Applejack,” Ser Vincent responded with a merry tone.

“Well, howdy!” She beamed as she brought the box in. “See you’re doing a bit shopping, gotta say, I didn’t think I’d see you out the house anytime soon.” She turned her freckled face to the pale green stallion, “Here’s the first half of your apple shipment, Emerald Zest.”

“Thanks,” the newly named stallion managed, confused by the formality between the knight and the apple farmer migrating through the barrels of vegetables behind him.

Ser Vincent took notes of the opportunity, what he could use to his advantage to improve his image… or at least let the town know where things stood between him and them. Miss Applejack obviously had a working relationship with this Emerald Zest and she was half finished with her deliveries here, meaning that she may have deliveries for elsewhere. He could look good to this community if he were to offer his assistance.

“You’re in good hands, Ser Knight,” Applejack began as she dropped off the crate and wiped her brow. She stepped back to the front of the stand, thumbing towards the vendor. “Zest’s good for a lot of veggies at a fair price, good to those hard up on bits too.”

But first… Vincent thought, raising his head and linking hands behind his back once more. “Well, at eighteen bits I’m being assured that I’m practically stealing from the charitable fellow.”

In some dark corner of his mind, Vincent reserved and savoured the wide eyed stares of those he scared like one stored brandy or wine. So when Emerald coughed, ears wilted and eyes like pin pricks as he glanced between a supplier of quality goods and a troublesome customer, Ser Vincent unknowingly cracked a grin beneath the mask.

With an arched brow and friendly grin Applejack looked back up to Vincent. “Are you buying half a week’s worth?”

“Two kilos of nuts, three carrots, broccoli and two cucumbers.” He had to admit there was a charm to the shock in Applejack’s face, kind of ‘country cute’ as it were. He extended and arm out and offered an upturned palm towards the visibly sweating Zest. “Quite the bargain, I’m sure you’ll agree.”

“What the hay, Emerald?!” Applejack blasted, startling the knight a tad. Glancing out he spotted half the market briefly look into the tent. Briefly. “What kind of deal’s that?”

“I-it—look, Applejack, I can explain.”

“Then talk,” the mare growled, tail lashing as she flicked up her Stetson.

“It’s just that, well, it’s…” Finally, after wilting like a spring bean under the harsh emerald gaze of the farmer, Zest pointed towards the knight and muttered, “It’s because of it.”

She scoffed, tossing her thick bundled pony tail back over her shoulder as she glanced back to Vincent. He only offered her a slight tilt of the head before turning his attention back outside. She snorted before looking back to the stallion. She opened her mouth, a verbal lashing fit for tanning the hide of a bull ready to spring forth, alas she shook her head and sighed. She saw Emerald wince as she regarded him with disappointment, “Really, Zest? What’s got into you? You weren’t like this with Zecora.”

“Zecora’s still a pony,” Zest retorted through a harsh whisper, “and she didn’t bring ogres to town, nor did she beat the tar out of them.”

“He was just doing his job!” Applejack fired back.

“Yeah, and he scares half of the town too. Look, nopony’s coming in.” He gestured to the outside the tent, where ponies were taking one glance at Vincent before heading off. It was as she turned to look that the viridian knight returned to the counter.

“I’m already here,” he remarked before looking down to Applejack. “I understand that you have more to deliver? Perhaps I can be of some assistance?”

“What? Not now Vincent.” Applejack said, bemused as he reached under his long coat and around the back.

He shook his head whilst clicking his tongue. “Miss Applejack, allow me to have a moment with Mister Emerald Zest, I’m sure we can renegotiate.” Ser Vincent said with warmth touching his tone. “Why don’t you go fetch the rest of the order, I can guarantee things will be sorted by the time you get back.” He made sure she heard a smile in his voice. “I’ll even help you out afterwards.”

She snorted before turning to prod him in the exposed armoured chest.

“If he gives you trouble—“

She barely blinked before her hand was caught in a rock solid grip, firm but not painful. Ser Vincent gently pushed it away.

“Don’t worry,” Vincent said whilst maintaining that friendly tone, “I’ve ran this obstacle course many times.” He released his grasp and pointed out of the tent, “Now don’t let me keep you.”

With a doubting glance, Applejack looked back to Zest. She grunted before flicking her Stetson down over her eyes and marching out. The stallion sighed rubbing his temple before giving the knight a harsh glare. Ser Vincent couldn’t care less at the moment.

“Now look here, Vinny—“

The knight abruptly brought his fist down hard onto the counter top, startling Zest. Fruit and spare change hopped on the spot, a silver coin diving for the ground. Vincent then leant over and came uncomfortably close to stallion, tilting his head as he looked down on the shrinking pony.

“You’re going to do two things from now on,” Ser Vincent said coolly. What warmth there was had vanished, a chilling tone lacing his words. “I only want the normal rate, none of this, let’s say, rip off the new guy nonsense. So what would the price be?”

Zest raised his muzzle in a weak attempt to seem composed but the fact that the knight was leaning over like a beast waiting for the kill ruined that illusion.

“F-five bits.”

“Sounds reasonable… even with that little tip on the end, huh?” Vincent pressed. Zest got to work and quicker than ever before, he had his customer’s order in no time.

“Anything else?” asked Emerald, wincing as the knight ground the fist into the wooden counter. It groaned as Vincent nodded.

“It’s Ser Vincent. There’s a good measure of respect in that title that I expect you remember. I earned that, it was not given. So I want you to drop your attitude.” His other hand came about to prod the stallion harshly in the shoulder, extracting a small yelp. “If I can’t have your respect, you lose my common decency and I’ll take your fear of losing profit instead.”

Ser Vincent then backed away from the table, taking his produce bag and quickly leaving just as Applejack came back.

“I hope you two came to an understanding,” she said, depositing the crate of apples in front of the counter. She glanced to Zest who was looking at the counter with a perplexed expression.

“I believe so,” Vincent remarked, stealing her attention. “So where are we heading off to next?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“I’d like to assist you in your deliveries, if you’re still making them.”

“Nah, but thanks for the offer,” Applejack replied with a smile. She joined him by the entrance, shooting the vendor another disapproving glance.

“I insist, I’m still not really sure about what’s where around here,” Ser Vincent added, voice turning friendly once more. “And I did enjoy the trip to the town hall when I first arrived, so if you’d take me once more I’d be grateful.” She squinted up the knight, a grin growing on her muzzle. “This time I’ll even be repaying you.”

“Well if you’re gonna be adamant about it, can’t really turn down a free worker, sugar cube.” She chuckle before trying to slug him in the arm. He caught with the hand that wasn’t holding his goods. “Right, right, no touching.” She turned on her hoof and stepped out, looking back to Emerald Zest.

“Well… bye, Zest, don’t let me catch you ripping Ser Vincent off again, you hear. Come on, big guy, I don’t have much left to do.” With that she departed.

Ser Vincent looked back to Zest, who was glancing between him and the stack of bits the knight had left behind.

“It’s because I didn’t want any trouble, don’t want any hard feelings, and because I won’t tolerate you disrespecting me again.” With that the knight left to follow the apple farmer.

This left Zest with a stack of ten bits, a little confusion, and a bit of uncertainty about his views on the knight.