Ser Vincent walked the all too familiar refined halls of the Canterlot Opera House, his destination the royalty booth. It was an invitation from his best friend, Prince Blueblood that brought him here. He was in the usual attire: mask, coat, short brown mop-tail, hydra-esque armour etc. Even if it wasn’t guard duty as usual, he wasn’t just going drop this façade at the snap of his human fingers. Besides, he’d end up dropping the small bakery box he was carrying.

He loved this place because ponies were truly used to his presence. He was noticed, true, but seen as a V.I.P passing by. His reputation made him worthy here, made him accepted, and these ponies stopped finding him too strange long ago. He walked these walls without being second glanced.

The royal theatre booth was suited for the royal family and friends, so privacy of up to ten or so in the best seats in the house. Typically reserved for just royalty, but tonight a few influential faces joined this evening. Habitually, Ser Vincent studied the booth. Two guards at either corner of the room, waiting staff, guests mostly philanthropists and charitable sorts; good company that the prince favoured.

He spied the gold locks of his friend at the front by the balcony and made his way over. Down the steadily, declining steps and paste ponies that made much effort to get out of his way. He didn’t rush them once nor did he expect this sort of treatment.

“… Some crystal rum please, Silver, whatever was recently imported if you’d be so kind,” Blueblood said to a young waitress. Her curtsy was stiff, as were her mannerisms, as if unsure how to respond.

‘Must be new,’ Vincent thought as he entered the row.

Blueblood caught him out the corner of his eye, turning to offer a warmed smile that met his blue eyes. “Good evening, Ser Vincent! It has been far too long!” He stood and shook hands with the knight, Ser Vincent nodding along.

“Far too long, Your Grace.” Vincent felt his cheek shift as his lip curled – it was a strange sensation having a delayed awareness to your own smile. He released the shake as others settled down, a few niches noting their conversation.

Blueblood snorted. “I half expected the princess’ informality to have tainted you by now. How long since our last outing? Three months?” He tutted. “Honestly, I need more time for myself.”

Ser Vincent didn’t miss the smirk and offered a tilt of the head. “Yes, between your villa visits and blimp parties, moments of self-indulgence are usually fleeting if I recall my time well.”

Blueblood shook his head in amusement, brushing down his whiter-than-white tuxedo. A hallow jab; both knew the prince ensured the kingdom’s economy ran and money flowed where it was needed: charities, scholarships for the under—privileged, foreign aid, etc. Both knew the knight ensured the lives of the kingdom were safe. If anything, neither dared miss these moments of relaxation.

“Come, take a seat with me,” His Majesty said with a smile as he took a seat. “You’re old acquaintance Serenity shall be performing.” A teasing flare sparked in those cold eyes but Vincent ignored it as he took a seat. “Anyhow, how does guarding the…”

Blueblood mulled over the words like a strange wine. “… Untested Princess Twilight compare? I’ll admit that I’m curious given recent changes.” After knowing the knight since he first donned the (personally, ridiculous) outfit, he’d instantly notice the filigree embroidery on his shoulder and the new belt. “Maybe she has a silver tongue that will be valuable to the crown?” He then gestured to the bakery box. “What’s this?” he asked before taking a small sniff, “It’s sweet.”

“Cake,” Ser Vincent chirped, watching the crowd below settle, enjoying the flat-eared grimace of his friend. “I thought I’d share a slice or six.” He chuckled as the waitress returned with an emerald drink.

“How cruel,” Blueblood sniped before wetting his lips with the drink.

“Full house. My, she’s certainly done well for herself after all these years” Ser Vincent commented idly. ‘The Rose House has done wonder for you.’ He felt himself smile again.

“Yes,” Blueblood said after a moment of appreciating the rum’s flavour. He faced the human, smiling fondly. “It’s amazing what a change of scenery can inspire or begin to change.” He locked with Vincent when he turned his head, for a fleeting moment, before he tapped the bakery box. “So, is it a present? Your father misses you, you know.”

“Actually, it’s something I’d like you to try.” Vincent lifted the lid. Three small muffins stood vigilantly, cream filled and toffee stuffed, with almonds and slices of banana adding a rich, sweet aroma. “They’re called banoffins, something new and I thought I’d share.”

“Spoils of a new land, eh, Ser Knight?” Blueblood chucked, gesturing if he could take one. With a received blessing he held it in his magic, suspending a white napkin beneath it in a snowy glow. He took a bite and felt the creamy flavour felt. “By the Fates, good find.”

Meanwhile, Ser Vincent slowly closed the lid, staring intently towards merrily chewing prince. “Actually bought them at a store, freshly cooked this morning. Had mine on the way here.”

“It’s delicious!”

“I’ll be sure to tell the Element of Joy of your compliments, Your Highness.” Ser Vincent leant back as the prince abruptly slowed his chewing. “And, Miss Applejack.” That stopped him dead.

Blueblood dabbed his lips, quirking a refined brow. “She can cook something more than carnival fritters?” his inquiry was met with a disbelieving huff. Prince Blueblood beckoned the waitress over again before shrugging to the knight. “Well, this is a surprise.”

“Town’s full of them,” Ser Vincent deadpanned, eyeing the waitress. Silver mane slightly messy, bronze fur un-groomed, scarlet waistcoat unbuttoned, and her cutie-mark was of a comedy and tragedy mask duo divided by a quill. He was distracted by the slightly dishevelled state of the mare, in turn the unprofessional swatting of her tail against his knees.

‘Dear me, she’s absolutely terrified.’

The Prince asked for a tray to be brought over so that he may set aside the muffin until the appropriate break in the opera for refreshments. It also brought forward an interesting thought for the knight. Before the waitress could leave, Ser Vincent spoke up.

“Pardon me-“

“Aaah!” The speed in which she shirked way, her scream shrill, was almost impressive Vincent thought. At least, after he got over staring blankly up to the panicked mare. He was certain that deadpan didn’t cut the look on his face.

“Never mind.” Well there was that thought shot down. Silver quickly scampered off, and scampered was the correct word as she lacked any grace associated with grand tier waiting staff. She could only offer an embarrassed grin as she fled towards the serving area.

Prince Blueblood was less than impressed. “What atrocious behaviour,” he remarked indignantly, looking to the knight. “I wonder what that was about.”

“Nerves. I’m hoping it’s because she’s new.” Ser Vincent shook his head. "Remember Jitter Bug?"

“What did you want?” Blueblood pressed.

“It’s nothing,” Ser Vincent replied with a shrug.

“Come now, if it’s about you then I’ll just kindly ask for a replacement. Have her wait on the other ponies here.

“It’s not that, it’s just…” Ser Vincent watched the grand stage curtains flutter with life as he rubbed the back of his hood. “It was a silly notion to begin with.”

“Out with it.” Blueblood said with irked brow. Typical Vincent, clamming up after such a response. He offered a genuine warm smile, more amused than anything else as he sampled another sip of the rum from the Crystal Empire. The emerald liquid’s burn was light, the flavour divine.

“I was merely hoping for a taste of the rum you’re trying.” Ser Vincent’s remark almost made the prince choke on his drink, his eyes bulging. Vincent shrugged and settled comfortably into the lush chair. The acoustics would be superb. “Maybe a glass of something from the deteriancia collection this evening; I’m feeling as if I’ve been missing out on certain things.”

“As in you’d take your mask off in here?!” Blueblood withheld the wince but his ears fell when he realised he’d drawn the attention of others. It was the last thing he ever expected of his best friend to just… casually share a drink with him. He studied the brief mannerisms of Vincent finding him shrinking into his seat as easily as a turtle hides in its shell.

There were whispers floating about. The Nopony was going to unmask himself? The Ser Vincent was to remove his mask? Why? To enjoy the opera? Was something wrong? Not one curious aristocrat received an answer other than a withering blue stare from the prince that swept the box room like an icy gale. The topic died, its last breaths out of earshot.

The lights dimmed as the waitress returned Blueblood making a split second decision.

“Quick! Another of this with ice!” he said, hovering the rum before her then setting it on the tray as she left. This was… ‘Marvellous!’ A simple drink, so mundane, so dull, and yet the prince fought to hide his smile. Vincent was finally—

“You know what, maybe next time,” Ser Vincent said coolly. He offered an upturned palm of an opinion, “Perhaps not so early into the showing.” He then quickly flitted it away with a shake of said hand, “Bah, never mind.” It was rather foolish of him to even begin thinking about such a thing.

Blueblood’s features fell quicker than the monocle of a bankrupt banker. He wanted to continue, but alas, the show began. He simply sighed with a furred hand to his temple. ‘Ignoramus,’ he scolded himself. When the waitress returned with the second drink he took a long—just a tad longer than what was acceptable—sip of his rum.

The symphony orchestra stirred as the curtain parted, revealing a towering city scene, sombre notes played. Burnt Affection was said to a be a moving tale, or so Ser Vincent had heard, and tragedies were his addiction. Alas, as the show went on, the main star stole it.

Serenity, a gorgeous angel of a pegasus, currently portraying the heartache of a rejected lover quite well. Her voice melodious and morose, her songs captivating like morning bird song. However, despite this Vincent had his attention stolen by the prince.

“Things must be different under Princess Twilight if you’re suddenly like this,” he said with faint smile. Neither looked away from the performance and kept their voices low, though at times like these, Vincent had to strain harder to hear than the prince that could swivel his ear.

“She makes me take breaks and we’ve agreed to boundaries,” Vincent replied warmly.

Blueblood sharply took in air. “I can’t begin to imagine how horrific that must be for you.”

Vincent chuckled. “It gets worse, they want to be friends with me.”

“Is it really so discouraging?” Blueblood whispered, staring intently. He mainly held his cup of delicious rum, what with it being a faux pa to use magic to light up the place during an opera. Odd how there was little about quietly conversing.

“I… don’t know, but I can’t tell if I’ll enjoy it.” Ser Vincent rested his hooded head in a gloved hand, closing his eyes and just listening to the lamenting monologue of a character. He was too distracted by his own thoughts to actual hear what was being said or sung however. “They’re very intrusive folk these southerners, but, if they see a problem they fix it. Lots of characters and… Ponyville does has its charms.”

He opened his eyes and saw the many passing faces of the small village he was stationed in. A crowd of the populace walking by, some glancing, most staring, but soon enough they just walked past him. He saw Zest and others that were stand offish no longer, not through their choosing. He saw the curious foals still scared to approach but getting closer each day. Then he saw the ex-Elements of Harmony, kindly greeting him in passing.

“I think the problem is that with so few towns in the south connected to the rest of Equestria, not many know about me. Nothing new, but it’s the first time starting from scratch with them knowing about me being, well, human.” He looked to his gloved hands, flexing them. “I’d much rather keep them as friendly acquaintances.” Vincent turned away to face His Majesty, Prince Blueblood.

“I’m starting to wonder if this entire façade was a good idea or not. It works, you cannot convince me otherwise… but…” He trailed off, his masked stare absentmindedly lowering. “Now I feel as if it’s simply foolish to continue as I am whilst I stay in Ponyville.” He locked eyes again with Blueblood, who was beginning to crack a ghost of a smile.

“What do you think, Your Grace?”

Blueblood seized the moment to lean, with a friendly smile and a firm hand resting on Vincent’s forearm. “Do you value my opinion… this time,” he asked with a quirked regal brow.

“I’ve known you since I was nine so I trust your judgement.”

“And we’re confidents.” Blueblood simply smiled kindly, his hand squeezing clothed and armoured arm of Vincent. He paused for a moment, just enough for a heartbeat or breath, before deadpanning the knight. “You’re one of the most successful idiots to ever build himself up out of rubble, a blind nincompoop that has saved me from all manner of beasts, an intelligent creature of renown fame and heroics that has a fatal, dangerous flaw; you’re a proud knight, Ser Vincent, rightly so… but the fact that you’ve just realised that there’s too much madness in your method is just so…”

The Prince struggled the find the words in the face of blank mask, that same stoic stare he knew was hiding a slightly startled friend, the same blank face he’d seen for five years due to insecurities, and all he could do was sigh and rub the bridge of his snout. Blueblood then offered an amused huff and soft smile. “So, yes, I think what works when it works is fine but perhaps you should fix what’s broke now, hmm?”

Vincent waited before responding. “Milord’s been holding back on me I see.” He slowly slid back deeper into his seat. It was too plush now that he thought about it. “Your honesty is appreciated, Your Majesty.”

“It’s what best friends are for, my good man.” Blueblood took another sip. “That and sharing drinks together at operas and galas from time to time.” For the most part, Prince Blueblood felt he could relax and finally get to enjoy the opera now that the fuss was out of the way. But, knowing that his friend nearly had a drink with him, something that shouldn’t be as impressive as it sounds, was wearing away at his comfort.

“Shall we try again?” whispered Blueblood, holding the rum glass before the snout of Vincent’s mask.

Vincent, for a moment pondered over the choice. “Maybe another day, Blue, maybe another day,” he said before pushing the offer away.

Author's Notes:

Apologies for the late update, I unfortunately caught a bug days after returning from Mexico. Nothing serious or so I'm told and fortunately it gave me time to plan my next story in the series.

Thank you for your patience and please remember to like if you favourite and please leave a comment. Toodle-pip!