It was his ninth day of care, whilst able to sleep and awake, that Ser Vincent was able to move into a wheelchair. He sat through doctors unsure of how to proceed with treating a human until his doctor in Canterlot sent his medical file. Made the magical treatment for his hip go much smoother, figuratively; day by day, he felt fragments of his bones slit back together like a marble puzzle wrapped in flesh.

Being an endling, the last and only equestrian human, meant that most if not all medical procedures were done by the best. As a technically endangered animal, a friend of the prince, a knight, and as guard to Princess Twilight, little to no expense was spared this time.

It wasn't a pleasant stay. He didn't like the window having its curtains open, well except for that one time that Rainbow Dash flew by with Fluttershy for a quick chat. He closed the curtains in case anypony else tried to peek at him without his mask and in such a weakened state. He often only kept his gaze on the doctor, but didn't have it in him to ignore the many nurses of the hospital. He hated feeling so vulnerable, wanted nothing more for ponies to leave him alone.

He remembered days when he would would be treated in Canterlot for sprains, fractures, and a broken forearm; his parents were in awe at how quickly he would heal with Equestria's medical capabilities. They'd tell him horror stories about how it would take weeks if not months for humans to heal from broken bones, as opposed to a couple of days. Months! He didn't want to live in a world where he'd have to take months off from his duty. Fortunately, and even with this being one of the most severe injuries on his file, Ser Vincent would be wheelchair bound today.

Today, as he found out, was the day ponies could visit. He awoke to a male voice, as young as his, and speaking with the tone all storytellers used. He kept quite, feigning a stirring when the storyteller fell silent. He picked back up again soon enough.

“...And I held the door open, smoke rushing over my helmet as Vincent the Nopony carried a Minotaur through the burning train carriage. 'He's the last one!' he yelled, 'It's empty, cut it!' and so I did shortly after Vincent joined us in the last remaining carts.” The words from this stallion stirred something in his mind, like a disturbed hornets nest.

The heat was as oppressing and heavy as the crime boss hanging over his shoulder. The bound minotaur was unconscious as the knight carried him through the blazing carriage, towards a familiar face coughing up a lung.

“We're done! Move!” he barked, stepping through the doorway. Smoke flowed over his mask and hood. The roar of the train engine was a deafening as the smoke was choking. At least the heat of the desert sun wasn't as bad as the fires he'd stepped through.

“You first, Vinnie!” the stallion replied, his horn aglow. Vincent entered the next carriage and the stallion joined him, gold armour charred and a captain's blue helmet plumb scorched. Orange magic encased the carriage coupling before it completely disintegrated...

Like a brilliant flash of lightning the memory came and went. Ser Vincent remained motionless, listening but noting how numb his thigh was. 'Painkillers must still be affect – eight hours, localised anaesthesia, numbness spread to toes and finger tips: orcaphine?'

“So there we were, the heads of small southern crime syndicate trapped in Ser Vincent's signature blue goo, a small team of guards, and several supplies for our army's artillery divisions. Five carriages, eight guardsmen, several train operators pushed to the front carriage, ten prisoners, and one knight left wondering what he was going to do about the tatzlewurm.”

A name surfaced to match the voice and Vincent felt his cheeks tug, a small sign of a smile that he'd recently come to be aware of. He was getting better at this whole facial expression thing.

“What happened then?” Rainbow's eager voice came from the far side, close to the window.

“Well, Vincent offloads the scumbag hard enough to break a table and kicks him for good measure--”

“Seems a bit harsh...” Rarity pointed remarked from his bedside, to his left.. “What do you think, Twilight?”

“I've not heard anything about him using those bandages of his yet, and if what you say is true about how he caught those guys, then he'd have used several rolls of the stuff.” Princess Twilight seemed to be in the same frame of mind as the fashionista. He could hear her fold her arms and shoot an analytical stare.

“Is that really beyond our knight?” Rarity inquired.

“Catching these guys? Nah. Vincent's outstanding in that field. But he's efficient. So I don't get why he'd bother being so overzealous with these guys, kicking them when they're down. Heck, Vincent helps patch up a few bad guys if he thinks he'd handled them a bit too roughly.” Princess Twilight paused, to which a wooden creak, akin to a chair with a pony reclining in it, was heard. “Yeah, no, all the other reports I read when selecting him state he chose to mess with their heads, make them feel outmatched, without control, but he doesn't beat them when they're subdued.”

“Alright, alright.” The stallion conceded and Vincent felt a smirk boldly form. He quickly got rid of it. “Normally, the guys back in barracks like that sort of thing. Ser Vincent, masked vengeance delivering the beatings us regular guardsmen can't.”

“What? Yer mean knights can get away with that?” Applejack seemed to have also paid a visit, sitting or standing by the door.

“Well, since the dawn of their inception, knights have always tried to keep bureaucracy and restrictive laws out of their way. Not to say its a free for all for them, they still have a chain of command and must abide by certain laws, but they don't need a search warrant. And they could hospitalise a stallion without losing their job.”

Vincent heard Fluttershy gasp close to where AJ was.

“That's an uncomfortable amount of power,” Twilight stated.

“Oh, if you ever thought the physical part of training for selection was bad, I hear the way they find out if your the sort to easily abuse that power is worse!” The stallion's tone lowered to a whisper. “Now, you didn't hear it from me, but, let's call them the knight drill sergeants, they use old magic to test you, to see what it would take to make you ever consider doing anything unethical. We're talking restricted section stuff, here.”

“So, what, they ask them questions and read their minds?” Pinkie asked, close to Fluttershy and Applejack. Must be the visiting area.

“No, no. It's like supposed to be a dream where you've made it, you got this power, and then your tempted. Day after day, as you slog through the physical training and the paper tests. Little things in your dreams. I've even heard tales of stallion's being arrested for what the knight's found out they would do!”

'What a load of flub.' Ser Vincent wasn't sure what rumour mill his friend had subscribed to but it needed to stop. True, he didn't need a search warrant, but he needed a damned good cause, often provided by his knight commander. Chances are, if the knights were already involved, then something serious was going down. True, he could hospitalise anypony he wanted, but as the selection process was used to find out, he didn't want to.

To be respected? Yes. If not, then feared? Yes. The culmination of either or both generally put most ne'er-do-wells out of commission. Otherwise he'd conjure a few bruises. But one doesn't call a knight to shatter the knee of a purse snatcher, you call a knight if you need him to flush out a bunker of criminals. Heck, Vincent personally tends to the wounded of the underlings to crime bosses, telling them to sort themselves out. Also such carte blanche methodology only applied to missions or investigations. He couldn't snap an arm because he felt like it. Wouldn't either. What kind of animal has such lack of control? Not him. Not again.

He could hear the impatience in Rainbow's voice. “Hey, we can all ask Vinnie for the details about what he can and can't do, but back to the burning train.”

“Ah!” He heard the stallion clap his hands together, rubbing them and lacing his tone of voice with excitement, “So where was I? Oh yeah. We both look back, Vincent dusting off ash from his desert coat after having done what nopony thought could have been done. We both stand there, tall and coughing our lungs out, as we watch the previous carriage be left behind. That was when the beast returned, skirting the surface sand like and eel in a lake. Faster than most could blink, it erupted forth, breaching the surface like a demonic hand and punching through. Took the whole carriage with it!”

Vincent heard the stepping of hooves close to his bed side. He remained feigning sleep. Hmmm, he couldn't think of a justifiable reason to pretend... he could be awake and be told the story but... maybe he could listen for more inaccuracies.

“So we move on, turning back to collect the trash, when I ask him 'We cant keep feeding it trains, what are we gonna do?' He keeps walking, with his hands behind his back and his masked faced trying to look over his shoulder. He says, slipping into a bit thicker Trottingham dialect, “I'm rather partial to the idea of blasting it to pieces.”

Vincent felt that was wrong somehow...

'Ser Vincent steadies the captain of the guard, a skilled unicorn who was for a long time worthy of his currents rank. He was returning from a personal inspection of a new barracks being built close to Appleloosa when he accompanied the knight.

Vincent watched the previous burning wreck of a carriage drift away in a deceptively slow manner. It was simply slowing down, having been tied to a train with its engine pushed to its extreme. Through all the hacking and wheezing, the spitting and deep breathes, Ser Vincent patted the armoured back of the officer.

“Get it out of your system, we're not done yet,” Vincent stated to his, technically, superior. The knights and regular guard often did have a strange relationship, where knights joined squads and followed orders. At the same time, they were capable of leading teams. Depended on the mission.

“Is the worm... still on our tracks?” the stallion said through a small grin.

Vincent felt a smirk of his own form. “Hot on our tails, you can say.”

Both chuckled, sickly due to the smoke inhalation, Vincent less so as his mask offered some protection. Then an ear splitting roar silenced them. Vincent had been searching the speeding surrounding for travelling mounds bounding their way over towards the train. There was no sign until the last moment where, from the left of the ever distancing burning carriage, the earth was pierced. A large, fleshy pink spear shot out the earth by the tracks. It was a body built to burrow through stone, and as such, it easily tackled the flaming wreck.

The tatzlewurm was particularly aggressive, or hungry. It had been following them for sometime. So far, sacrificing carriages had kept it at bay but it was no longer a viable method of protection. The beast took the flaming wrecking clean of the track, the wooden body exploding into flaming debree and the metal chassis and wheels buckling as they flew off the track. As if the giant beast was a train of its own, it flowed out of the earth and back in, stealing a portion of train carriage to snack on.

“Well, it will make an excellent addition to the wall,” Ser Vincent remarked, feeling a tug on his coat.

“You still adding to that thing?” The captain of the guard pulled him back further into the train, where the prisoners were beginning to pledge oaths to lead better lives.

“Well, I already have a tatzlewurm, but not one of a tatzlewurm tackling a full train carriage.” Ser Vincent turned back, spotting the captain refitting his solar tabard and shaking the soot from his silver tail.

“So how did you beat the last one,” the captain asked, as calmly as he helped a shaking crook to his hooves.

“It triggered a rush in me and I managed to free myself of its tongues, long enough to throw a sleep potion down its gullet.” Ser Vincent said, scanning his belt. He hadn't enough for one of this size. “Whilst it was drowsy and I still had magic in me, I punched it until I cracked its mandible plate then it got the message and fled.”

Ser Vincent recalled the moment he said that. He also made a note not to tell Fluttershy about shattering the facial bones of an animal. Ever.

The stallion continued grandly recalling the events that put Vincent in hospital in the first place. “So , in the end, we drag three canons into the last carriage, heck, we might as well call it the caboose and-”

“Um, If I may interject,” Princess Twilight said. Vincent didn't have to open his eyes to know that she raised her hand with a curled primary finger.

“Gah!” Once again, Rainbow voiced her displeasure.

“A caboose is at the end carriage of a train, true, but not all end carriages are cabooses.”

“Yes, thank you for the correction, Your Majesty,” he heard the stallion say, probably with a practice smile knowing who it was. “Anyhow, we usher the prisoners further into the train whilst bringing a few artillery guys to join us.”

'Three thick cannons, grey as iron, stood equal distances apart in the carriage. Four stallions manned each one, loading them with dense balls of explosive red spheres. That was part of why Vincent was here, to ensure the explosive ammunition was safe for use and storage. The prisoners were him being side tracked.

These 'Boomer' ponies, an unofficial moniker for the 22nd artillery regiment, wore different uniforms to Canterlot and general infantry; almost exclusively earthponies and fitted with lighter armour. No tabard, but dulled grey plated chest pieces, padded pants not to dissimilar to what Ser Vincent wore himself, and a space to holster a short sword. Vincent chose the pants because they were great for absorbing blows on the thigh and shins. Before the scale chest piece he even used the shock shirts the regiment were given.

They worked with the efficiency of soldiers who were drilled and trained day after day. In less than five minutes the cannons were relocated and loaded and aimed at the wall. It was a loading wagon so the wall fell for easier transference of goods onto the train. It wasn't supposed to be opened whilst the train moved. Vincent felt that some rules needed to be broken.

He stood by the lever on one side, the captain of the guard on the other. With a curt nod from the stallion Vincent reached for the handle.

Then a jarring thump struck the carriage. With a metallic screech, the entire thing was shifted to one side as it rode over an undoubtedly disfigured track. The beast roared as the train fell back down with an almighty crash as the wheels hit the track. Vincent lost his footing, leaning onto the lever and pulling it as everypony else battled with inertia. The wall fell as vertigo struck Vincent and he gazed upon carriage

The world seemed to slow as it always had, the colour fleeing from the world where nothing moved. As the door fell, light spilling into the greyed out carriage; he witnessed many things fail before him. A lit canon had toppled and several of the boomers tripped forward, almost out.

With golden furnaces burning deep from within the eyes of his mask Ser Vincent quickly moved. With uneasy steps he shoved a stallion to the far wall, practically taking him off his hooves. The second one was within arms reach and, at the expense of spraining the wrist, he swung him around and into the wall as well. The rush was decreasing; although the initial burst slowed the world down it didn't last.

Although his reactions were quickened, he was only fast enough to grab one stallion by the tail as he teetered over the ledge, arms swinging wildly over the rushing country side. A fourth stallion was just out of Vincent's reach, his gloved tips slipping off his shoulder pauldrens. He watched with expressionless horror as the stallion turned to look him in the eye as he fell out the train.

Ponies were very expressive. Made reading them easy but Vincent was far from a master of such a craft. He didn't need to be in the fleeting moment. Wide eyes shrunk, silvery and staring back, knowing that Vincent might be the last thing he saw. The ears were tall, not pinned to his scalp as most terror stricken ponies would be – it was a horrible form of realisation, that in this passing second he would perish. Vincent hated that ponies were more expressive than humans.

His mane then jerked back toward the train as an orange glow seized the stallion. He was thrown back, over an unlit cannon and into the arms of a still standing boomer. Vincent pulled the teetering stallion he had by the tail in just as the door was torn off. The captain of the guard's horn glowed with a fiery orange, the wavering layer of mana shinning brightly over an otherwise greyed out stern face.

“The cannon!”

The cry from the officer made Vincent refocus. The cannon in question had fallen, the stand keeping it up collapsing along with the a wheel. The lit fuse was halfway through when everpony and the knight's attention was stolen by the return of the tatzlewurm. It was far, its screech signalling its approach.

Vincent did not think about anything else beside the original plan: shoot the tatzlewurm. He picked out a vial of petrify and slapped it against his hip. The stallions ran for the next train as it approached, closer and closer. The captain tried to pull Vincent, but even without the magic coursing through his body, he wouldn't have a chance.

With a mighty draw of enhanced strength, Ser Vincent lifted the cannon and steadied it against his hip. The petrify formula began to encase the metal body at the base as Vincent did his best to secure his stance. His thigh, hip, and where the cannon touched him turned to stone. It felt like he was holding a plastic pipe.

He couldn't hear much of what his friend was saying as he tried to drag the knight; he heard the rush of the train running over metal tracks and the wind roaring as the country side blurred by. What he could see was a strange haze of colour and grey as his mind processed that neither he nor the desert was moving, just the train. A wasteland of sand dotted with cacti and small oases, a dusty world stained with small blots of green beneath a blue sky.

And tunnelling along the surface was the beast. A homing mound chased him and arced neatly from afar, curling closer and closer with cruel intellect.

And then it breached. Its three plated lips split, the pink mouth opened wide and large, slimy teeth glistened before him. Its body became saturated with colour as it moved with terrifying speed. Like a horrific flower blooming before him, purple scaly stem, rosy sepals, and green eel-ish anthers flaying as it descended from its arc.

There was an earth shattering boom that shook him and his core... he was on the floor as a blinding light bathed him, an intense heat washing over him... blood poured out from his ruined pants... Ser Vincent... he...'

“And with the cannon hoisted against his hip, he declared, and I quote, 'If you could comprehend who I was, you'd know how far down the food chain you were, little grub.'”

Vincent opened his eyes to a blurry world just as the stallion clapped his furred hands together.

“Boom. No more tatzlewurm. Also no more use of his legs for the rest of the trip.”

“You know how much I hate embellishment, Kindle,” Ser Vincent managed, propping himself to sit up. Through use of intensive medicines, more so given that he was an endling, Vincent was making a speedy recovery. He could manage to sit up against the headboard and level a bed-headed glare at the captain of the guard. “I would also never say anything so ludicrous.”

The stallion offered a cheeky, lopsided grin as he pointed a finger, “Out loud, right?” He... might have had Vincent there.

In the light of mid-morning day, the captain of the Canterlot guard wore that perpetual smile of his despite the burned fur on his right ear. Enkindle Forge was the definition of a poster boy for the guard; handsome features framed by a thick silver mane and beard, toned muscle wrapped in sunset orange fur, a cutiemark of a sword of fire with bolts of flame flowing from the tip, and eyes like smelted gold staring back warmly.

He was the kind of smug and smarm that belonged to heroes towering over a fallen villain – an endearing kind of arrogance he fired out in small doses. Hit Vincent like a poison dart and made him grumble for a moment. The girls giggled much to his resentment.

Rarity spoke from his bedside, “Well, as I understand it, most crooks tremble from mere stories they hear about you.”

Ser Vincent turned his head to see her seated neatly in a flared dress, the top half a calming blue and the silken bottom half shifting to a pearlescent hue. He could see the material was fairly thick as she smiled back and thought that the autumn chill had to finally be rolling in. Normally it would be a nice sign for one to dress up for someone in hospital, but given that Rarity is one of the few ponies always dressed, it was simply nice that she came. Once again she was the only one dressed.

“If I couldn't finish a job then I wouldn't have a reputation in the first place,” Vincent remarked, feeling his cheek twitch, “I'm not one to exaggerate my capabilities – I am as good as they say because I'm not built upon miracles.”

“Wow, never thought I'd see you smug!” Enkindle remarked, drawing Vincent's attention again. He blinked and rolled his hand. “I mean, without your mask. These days I can feel it in your voice well enough.” He then gestured to the girls. “Also... no mask and we're with company.”

“Well, you're nowhere near as pretty, and as such, not worth the trouble, Kindle.” Vincent felt the smirk on his lips this time as Rainbow rolled her eyes and Rarity grinned. “So please, don't overdo the stories.”

Enkindle raised his hands, revealing burnt patches on his palm. “Okay, okay. Just give me your report and I'll preach it back home.”

“So how you feelin', Vinnie?” Applejack got to her hooves and moved to the foot of the bed, next Pinkie who was tying a new 'get well soon' balloon to it. It was green and glossy, a nice touch he thought.

“Like a dragon bit my side,” he replied with a cheerful voice.

“Did you really hip-fire a cannon?” Rainbow Dash drifted in on a cloud pillow, sitting level and close to Rarity's head.

“Rainbow!” Rarity balked, leaning towards Vincent to avoid the cloud. Her lilac perfume wafted over. “My mane, Rainbow, you'll get it wet!”

“Dash, you can't bring clouds into a hospital!” Twilight berated, pushing the small cumulus back towards the open window with her shimmering magic.

“Ugh, fine!” Dash hopped off the cloud and headed towards the window with in tow. Her tail whipped and her ears fell flat.

“I did indeed,” Vincent answered turning his gaze toward his hip. He dared to twitch his thigh and felt grating from within, of partially mending bone being tested. A vengeful flare of pain burned close to his groin.

“Vincent!” the mares cried out in unison, startling him. He felt a soft hand touch his shoulder. It snapped his focus back to Rarity on reflex.

“Don't strain yourself, dear,” she said with concern.

“I'm not,” he lied, and it was obvious she knew.

Her brow took off to almost nest in her mane, her dubious glare shifting to her friends. She glanced back to him as Fluttershy approached, removing her ivory hand. “Vincent, you sound better than you look. Keep that in mind.”

'Of course... no mask...', he realised. An odd sensation in and of itself. He wasn't used to forgetting he wasn't wearing a mask. Getting used to and working around its presence? Yes. That was different. Like wearing a shirt. Yet, even with the nurses around he remembered to minimise eye contact. Why had he forgotten now.

“Are you uncomfortable?” Fluttershy asked as she softly stepped over. She fidgeted with her hands before tucking his bed sheets in. “If you need more rest we'll go.”

“No,” he said automatically, “I think I'd like it for all of you to stay.” He offered his best kind smile to her, actually feeling his cheeks twitch.

“Well, good, we wanna see you open you get well cards!” Pinkie chirped as she held up the unopened envelopes.

“Well now, Vinnie, since when were you so open to the public?” Enkindle asked. Vincent only noticed the wrappings on his hoof as the captain hobbled over. “Then again, leave you alone with any mare and all that...”

“Kindle...” Vincent's mood fell into a lava pit, his glowering glare targeting the unicorn. It went ignored much to his chagrin.

“I mean, for a guy that isn't big on dating you don't half leave a small trail of broken hearts...” Enkindle continued, eyes coincidently skyward as Vincent began to bare his teeth.

“Oh, really?” Rarity remarked with interest. Her pitch and tone made him freeze as he glanced to Rarity, finding her looking down on him with an almost vulture like glint in her eye. “So you do try for the story book Knight angle, after all.”

“Ma'am, you're looking at the knight that's adding stories to it.” Enkindle added before chuckling warmly.

Vincent sighed and looked to the butter pegasus with his best pleading eyes. “Miss Fluttershy, make them stop, they're teasing me.” He didn't know how well his face acted, but his perfectly mimicked a hurt child.

She smiled before brushing the rose lock of mane that always fell beside her face away from her eye. She gave a mocking, motherly glare to the group. “Now, now, leave the poor stal-- um, man alone.”

There was a mutter of agreement, followed by a pregnant pause. Ser Vincent eyed Enkindle, seeing him bow his head and ears a little but keep that coltish grin. He looked to the rest of the girls, seeing Pinkie and Applejack route through a bunch of letters whilst Twilight smiled back. Rainbow looked bored as she stomped back. However, upon meeting eye contact with Rarity, when sapphire met malachite she burst.

“Oh, do give us a story, Captain!” she blurted, ears pinning back and smiling, yet wincing to avoid Vincent deadly stare.

“Nothing serious mind you,” Enkindle said dissmisively, raising a finger.

“Kindle, no!”

“Just Sapphire Shore, Night Light, a gryphon named Helen...”

“Seriously, Kindle, you're on thin ice!”

“And who can forget that Ser Vincent is the one pony that the Rose House always asks for,” he finished.

Rarity gasped. “My word! Sapphire Shores comes to me for costume fittings!” She then braved a look to Vincent who stared back dead pan to her offended gaze. “You might of mentioned knowing Sapphire Shores once or twice when you visited my boutique.”

“Rarity, I have never expressed any romantic interest in these mares, and as such, never led them to believe I had such interests. Casual intimacies also never being on the table either.” Vincent leaned back into the headboard and felt the sour look on his face curdle further. “I have no idea where those stories come from.” He then fired a glare at Enkindle once more. “Though I have my suspicions.”

The stallion immediately raised his hands again and eased off. “Hey, I only tell the boys about action okay. You're the one that acts and leaves everypony else guessing about what's going on in your head.”

“Indeed!” A bold voice came from beyond the door. It opened with white magic encasing the door handle and Prince Blue Blood stepped in. The stallion was dressed as sharply as ever; expensive horseshoes, groomed powder white fur, crisp white suit, and Vincent could smell the vanilla scent from where he lay in bed. Then the knight noticed the subtle creases in his shirt, the dots of dirt at the bottom of his pants, the missing diamond cuff-link.

“Care to explain why you thought you could hold and fire a cannon?!” Blue Blood's stern glare turned those blue eyes icy, his tongue sharp. “I swear, you think yourself to be invincible! You certainly don't think about anything else.”

“Your Majesty,” Enkindle said, bowing his head.

Blue Blood noticed and gave him a glance, one that Vincent recognised as the one reserved for those who fail top properly greet him. However, his expression immediately softened upon spotting the injuries the captain had sustained. “At ease, captain,” he said with a smile, “Don't hurt yourself.”

He then glared back at the knight who stared impassively back. “You might shatter your shin and not care!”

Ser Vincent rolled his eyes like a rebellious teen. “I am deeply moved by your sentiments. So much so that I vow to transfer to a comfortable life of cake eating.”

“You'd probably find a way to choke a dragon with one,” Blue Blood sniped, strolling over to the bedside opposite Rarity. Fluttershy, with her head bowed, quickly slinked away from the marching prince.

“Hey!” Pinkie exclaimed with indignation. She leant onto the foot of the bed and glared pink death at the stallion. “No smack talk about cakes!”

“Excuse me?!” Prince Blue Blood cried in shock. Who dared address him in such a way? He took a proper look around the room and found the answer hit him hard, weighing down his expression into a form of miserable dead pan. “Oh. Of course.”

The girls weren't too pleased by his presence, Vincent noted, thought the majority were hiding it well enough. If not for years protecting the prince he would not have been able to spot the subtleties of hostile pony body language.

Applejack was furthest from subtle, scowling harshly from the under the brim of her hat; Rainbow kept her ears down as she looked to him, magenta eyes narrowed slightly but no frown visible. Rarity was the hardest to notice but he spotted the obvious signs: though composed and with the ever present air of grace, she had turned her snout up slightly, tail lashing once, and had turned her back slightly to the prince.

“Good morning, Your Majesty,” Twilight began with a polite smile. She stood up and joined Rarity's side but remained on her hooves. “How was your spa treatment?”

“Brilliant,” Blue Blood said, his frown lessening as he looked to her. “In fact, I am not done. I rushed out as soon as Spike informed me that I could visit.” He made to glance back to Vincent but stopped himself to offer her a critical stare over his nose. “Also I gave the boy some small change for his services – are you giving him an allowance at all? He seemed rather surprised to be paid for his services.”

“Well if he ever wanted anything then I bought it him,” Princess Twilight defended coolly, “Besides, he only ever wants turquoise or comics.” She folded her arms and lifted her snout at the prince.

“Well, gee, Twi,” Applejack interjected with a small glare, “We've being paying Apple Bloom to do her chores since she was eight, reckon you can give lil' Spike a weekly reward.”

“Indeed, Twilight,” Rarity said with exaggerated aghast, “Having poor little Spikey helping you run the library and sending letters at your whim is certainly worthy of a wage.”

Ser Vincent watched Princess Twilight sweat beneath the disapproving stares of her friends. He figured the prince's regular stoic distaste had hardly hit her as hard as Fluttershy's disappointed gaze. Twilight looked down to him, her tail tucking slightly.

“Vincent, surely you'll vouch for me,” she said with an uneasy smile. It faltered as she stared at the knight.

He tried for pitiful look, once again looking to Fluttershy by his side. “I haven't been paid in months and she orders me to warm myself by candlelight when I guard her.”

Fluttershy rolled her eyes and smiled motherly, resting her hand on his forehead. “Oh you poor thi--” She recoiled as he did.

Vincent wasn't used to soft fur blessing his brow, the scent of vanilla and strawberries shampoo falling upon his face. He jerked on contact, instinctively gripped the sheet but stopped himself. He stared back in the passing second, aware that he was going to cover his face with the sheet, aware that he would have searched for his mask, aware that he had startled Fluttershy. Her wings twitched as he looked back, the third second passing before he snapped his attention back to Twilight.

“In all seriousness though, it is a bit...tyrannical that you don't give him some pocket money,” Vincent said without emotion in his tone. He couldn't speak for his face but he assumed that everypony was seeing the look of man swiftly hoping to move on from moments ago. He didn't even try the impossible task of hiding his expression but disguising his tone he could do.

“I'm not a tyrant!” Twilight balked, wings twitching.

“Weeeeell,” Rarity began, “since you're a princess now it is a rather apt term, is it not?”

“No!”

“Are you going to start paying him?” Rainbow added, smiling at the squirming princess.

“Of course and... and...” Twilight shook her head before pointing at Vincent. “Hey! Let's not get side tracked here. We're talking about Vincent.”

“Et tu, princess?” the knight remarked sourly.

“Oh, the hypocrisy!” Twilight shot back. He heard Rarity titter at his side as Princess pointed a harsh glare back at him. It was one of those 'Hush you, you don't get to talk from the hospital bed' glares.

Blue Blood's blue eyes were lukewarm enough for his scolding to mean he wasn't completely upset with Vincent. Simply venting. “Be quiet you idiot. This has been going on long enough.”

“Twelve days is not that long, Your Grace--” Vincent bit his tongue at Blue Blood's sneer; there have been so few times in his career, when he was asked to guard the prince, that Vincent saw such a blatant display of rage.

Not fiery anger, or loud fury, but seething rage. A hatred of something potent enough to spill out of the diamond facade of stoicism the prince had perfected. Usually, the cracks in his mask arrived after a constant ache of a rich noble or C.E.O was trying to push for something, a new law to abuse or certain standards to be slackened for profit's sake, and it was always when the two were in private.

And in the passing heartbeat as the two locked eyes, jaded malachite clashing with glacier blue, the princess sighed and looked away. “Just... be quiet, Vincent Costello. I'm not another enemy. You know that.” He looked back, his expression oddly tired. “This has been going on long enough.”

'What has?' The knight was only allowed a moment of pondering before he was berated once again.

“Ser Vincent!” Blue Blood began in an authoritative tone, groomed ears shooting up, muzzle rising, “I am ordering you to remain here and in no way shape or form, attempt to return to the field until you are given the all clear by your doctors. Do you understand?”

The air was thick with a tension that silenced the girls; the mares glanced at one and other the knight and the prince simply stared back at one and other. Before any of them could speak, Ser Vincent chuckled.

It was subdued at first, he gaze faltering as his chest seemed to spasm. Then lowered his head as soft baritone rumbled with quiet mirth. Then he laughed. He laughed with his head rising back and his cackles summoning flash backs in girls of villains the Elements had bested. Vincent laughed, his green eyes bright as he mockingly defied the scolding fraternal stare of Blue Blood.

With a space between chuckles, he said, “You have no power here! You surrendered such abilities when you made it my assignment to guard the princess.” He then went back to laughing. He felt his cheeks strain and it felt good.

“In that case, Ser Vincent, you are to remain on sick leave until you are feeling better,” Twilight said instantly.

Vincent stopped laughing. He felt his face fall as he lowered his head, chin touching his lightly furred chest and hair falling to cover his brow. “Bugger.” And so Ser Vincent accepted his fate, to the sound of Captain Enkindle Forge and the girls quietly snickering.

Author's Notes:

Behold! The sequel of Cloth Hearted, Armoured Skin. making it the sixth installment of the Changing States of Knight series! That's amazing! Even with this one having a long delay in being submitted the support has been simply mesmerising!

It starts with To See Both Faces. I cannot stress how important it is to read this in order to understand the world this is set in, but to summerise: anthro ponies are tastefully nudists unless specifically stated otherwise. No rude or explicit material will be described in this story.

I'd appreciate it that if you liked you also favourited and vice versa. It would bring further joy to see comments and critiques, to further my writing. I do hope you enjoy this story as you have enjoyed my past entries. If you are new and put off by this being the sixth installment, fret not, for these stories are relatively short.

Have a blast either way!