“Dear sweet Celestia, this is gonna be boring.” As a loud groan escaped his throat, an earth pony in a carefully-tailored tuxedo turned to his friend and cuffed him upside his head as he finished closing the door to the penthouse hotel suite they'd just left.
“Sec, you've done nothing but whine since we left Canterlot. Can't you take just the slightest amount of pride in what we're doing?” High Security's face wrinkled at that, the gray pegasus using one wing to adjust the undersized formal vest he was wearing for the evening. He tried to straighten out his storm-blue mane as he retorted to his comrade's teasing.
“Pride in what? Playin' watchdog for a spoiled brat nopony's ever gonna waste their money tryin' to kill?”
“Guarding a Prince of Equestria, yes. Blueblood might not exactly be the easiest guy to like, but that's why we're here in the first place. Have you ever read his mail?” Warden, a pony of few words with white fur and a bleach-blonde mane, could be identified as a royal guard by the blind at a hundred yards. His longtime partner was also his best friend, and had been for years, but he'd entertained notions of strangling Security more than once over that mouth of his.
“Yeah, I opened a letter the mailpony told me was a little fishy once. Wound up growin' gills for a week, they said the envelope was covered in Poison Joke.” He shuddered slightly before continuing. “Haven't gone near the mailroom since.”
“So, doesn't that prove that Blueblood's got some ponies out for him?” Warden took up his usual position standing watch at the prince's hotel room door. High Security sat at the end of the hall, covering the bay window looking out over the Manehattan skyline.
“Yeah, I guess. Still, there's a long way to go between magic pranks and hardcore assassins. To hear Dad tell it, he never walked ten feet without seein' some action! We ain't had so much as a heckler in three weeks, bud.” Warden chuckled and replied in as dry and sarcastic a tone as he could manage.
“Sec, your father is Maximum Security. Y'know, 'Mad Max'? If we had anything like his kind of 'action', I'd probably be sporting an eyepatch and a pegleg or two by now. Be glad we've got a quiet detail here, it means we're doing our job.”
“Hmph. Still means we're sittin' on our tails here. Hay, I didn't even get window duty! Night Shift's out there gettin' to play in the updrafts all night.” The anxious pegasus stretched his wings once to emphasize his point, then drew a book from one of the pockets on his vest and cracked it open to find where he'd last left off.
“Could be worse.” Warden's eyes narrowed mischievously. “You could have drawn the short stick and been stuck on 'The Prince's Royal Bedroom' duty tonight.” High Security just gave a disgusted look at that and went back to his book. He certainly didn't envy their squad's unicorn rookie, Shooting Star, her loudly-snoring roommate.
"Well, at least then I'd have been in my armor instead of this ridiculous vest." Loosening his tie slightly, Warden found himself conceding that point. Shooting Star and Night Shift did get to avoid wearing formal dress for the evening.
Having found his page, High Security started his quiet reading for the night. Occasionally he'd glance up to find that, indeed, nopony had managed to shatter the window above him and break into the hallway unnoticed. Likewise, Warden settled into a routine of glancing to the right, the left, and then over at the window just every so often, otherwise just standing at his post and letting his mind wander. His hoof occasionally tapping out whatever tune happened to cross his mind, Security sometimes turning a page and Blueblood's echoing snores were the only sounds to be heard in the short top-floor hallway. All was still. 'Round about midnight, however, things subtly began to change.
Warden's ear twitched. A slight sound over his shoulder was demanding his attention. It was the faintest thing, just the air behind him moving slightly. He looked back quickly, seeing nothing but the still-locked doors of the prince's suite. Shrugging it off as nerves, the veteran royal guard checked the rest of the hallway to be safe and then returned his gaze to a point beyond the opposite wall. Then he felt it again. Not really even a sound but simply a presence, slightly closer this time. He tried to ignore it for a few moments, but the niggling feeling finally got the better of him. Warden turned around completely this time, once more finding nothing there to declare itself. High Security noticed the sudden movement with an air of amusement.
“What's wrong, Colt Scout? Is the wall actually a changeling?”
“No, it's just... I don't know, an itch on my ear or something. Get back to your book.” He continued in an indignant huff, “You could do with a little paranoia yourself, you know? Keeps a guy alert.”
“Nah, bud, you've got plenty for the both of us.” With a toothy grin that would make an Appleloosan jealous, Security went back to his reading and left Warden to swallow his pride. Resuming his post, he did just that... until, like clockwork, the odd feeling returned moments later. Determined not to feed his friend any more ammo for the next morning's team debrief, Warden stoically stared straight forward, the presence over his shoulder seemingly determined to stay exactly where it was. Then, the increasingly-frustrated Warden noticed something else that was off.
“Hey, Sec... do you, by any chance, smell roses?”
“Sarge, just because you're gettin' bored doesn...” Security stopped mid-sentence, sniffing at the oddly fragrant air. “...huh. Y'know, you're right. Did Blueblood have any of those flowers from the ballroom brought up with us earlier?” This observation set the red flags in Warden's head waving like mad.
“No, he didn't.” Warden's voice dropped to a whisper. “I think that might be perfume, mate. Not my scent, either.” Looking directly above himself, Warden gave the ventilation ducts a hard glare. “Sec, get up there and check the vent.” The moment he said that, there was a pronounced shuffling sound several feet back in the piping. Instantly, High Security leaped from his seat at the window and struck aside the ornate grate over the ductwork, flying as much as climbing into the ventilation pipe.
A moment's glance down the narrow tube showed a pony's black tail fleeing down a vertical shaft at the end of the vent, the fan in the way stopped mid-turn by a wooden wedge. Lying abandoned on the vent shaft's floor was a small but razor-sharp jeweled dagger. Growling angrily, Security snatched up the knife and gave chase, squeezing his way through after the suspect and calling quickly back to Warden to confirm a pursuit. Warden, in turn, moved rapidly to secure his charge.
“Star, we have an intruder in the vents!” Warden bucked through the doors to the prince's suite, clearing the way into the sitting room. His youngest squadmate wasn't far behind, her horn lit and eyes searching the darkened room. Warden wasted no time getting the curtains across the panoramic windows opened, pouring what moonlight there was into the room and revealing the last member of his team, the thestral Night Shift, lounging on the ledge just outside. At a signal from Warden, he leaped from his post and dove to cover the doors below while his commanding officer and Shooting Star swept the remaining rooms of the penthouse for signs of danger. In the last room they checked, little more than a spare bedroom containing a few pricey art pieces bought at auction that evening, Star tested the grate on the vent above with a satisfying telekinetic tug. It didn't so much as squeal in protest.
“That's all the vents, sir. Whoever's here, they haven't made it in.” Warden nodded sagely, relieved that this attack seemed rather poorly planned out.
“What in Equestria is all this racket about, Sergeant?” Oh, great, just what we needed. Warden did his best to put on a professional, emotionless mask to meet the dreary-eyed Prince Blueblood, roused from his sleep in the commotion. Admittedly, the sight of Equestria's least-popular royalty clad in a badly-askew silk bathrobe with his luxurious blonde mane mussed with drool was nothing short of hilarious, but that laugh would have to wait.
“I'm sorry, sir, but there has been an attempted infiltration of your rooms here. I have my guards pursuing the intruder downstairs, and I'm going to join them in the chase. Private Star, get the prince to the hotel's security office and wait for the all-clear from me once you're there. No telling if there are others, so stay alert and move quickly.” A short salute was all he needed before taking off out the still-open doors to find High Security and Night Shift, hopefully with their quarry in tow. The rose-maned unicorn he left behind cleared her throat and repeated the order.
“Alright, your Highness, we need to get down to the security office. The hotel staff have a panic room for us there...” Blueblood cut her off with a raised hoof.
“Private, the supposed intruder has been dealt with, it is the middle of the night, and I intend to return to my bed. Kindly station yourself at the door and wake me in the morning.” Not waiting for a response, the prince turned drunkenly on his heel and staggered back toward the waiting master bedroom. Shooting Star, however, wasn't having any of that.
“My apologies, sire, but my orders are clear. Now get your slippers on or whatever you need, because we're moving!”
“No, Guardsmare, we're not.” Blueblood set her in his gaze and continued in a huff. “You may have been assigned to my entourage, but I am Equestrian royalty! You shall do as I command, and I am commanding you to do whatever you must to protect me right here in this penthouse. Good night, my young mare.” Once again, he turned to go back to bed. His increasingly-irritated protector followed him closely, watching with a dropped jaw as the arrogant dandy laid right back down to sleep in the face of what could be an assassination attempt. As he curled up in the sheets, Star groaned... and then had a moment of inspiration. Her eyes narrowed, a fiendish smile creeping its way across her muzzle.
“Yes, sir. As you wish.” She entered the bedchamber to stand stock-still at attention between the bed and the massive windows' drawn curtains, a dangerous edge in her voice. “Oh, I will do what I must. Right here, in this penthouse.” She lit her horn, the emerald glow snaking its way around the bedframe. “And might I add, sir, that I shall thoroughly enjoy performing my duties exactly as you command.” With that, she hefted the mattress clean off of the box-spring, prince and sheets in tow. Blueblood's sputtering protests and struggles on the floating bed were cut off by the blankets coming alive, carefully and forcefully tucking in the royal pain and not-so-accidentally gagging his muzzle in the process.
Satisfied by her charge's sudden compliance, Shooting Star left the suite prancing just a bit more merrily than was strictly necessary of a royal guard evacuating a VIP from a crime scene. Down the hall, she glanced at the elevators with mock disappointment. “Well, your Highness, I don't believe this mattress will fit in that elevator.” A venomous smirk told the prince exactly how much she was bothered by that discovery. “Seems we'll just have to take the stairs.” Opening the door to the stairwell with a triumphant flair, Star set the bed spinning to work her way down the hotel's twenty-two flights of steps to the ground floor. She couldn't wait to see the looks on her team's faces when she had to explain this.
/)~*~(\
Back in the vacant penthouse suite, silence and stillness reigned. The hurried evacuation of the room had taken mere moments; not even three minutes had passed since Warden burst into the suite when the door to the stairwell closed behind the detained prince. The rooms themselves appeared untouched, the smashed main doorway and missing mattress aside, and all were lit only with the soft glow of the moon streaming through the windows. The gentle blue light bathed everything in a calming aura, providing just enough illumination for the vacant chambers to not appear haunted in the night.
The illusion of peace was broken by a rope dropping from the open vent outside the splintered door. A single pony slid down the rope, a unicorn mare in a black catsuit with a scattered pattern of white diamonds and a rather extravagant mask across her face. She picked up a bottle of perfume which had been tied to the end of the rope, lightly spritzing herself with the rose scent to remove the hideous odor of the industrial piping she'd been clambering through for the past hour. Placing the bottle back into its place on her belt, the mare strode casually into the suite. I suppose, she thought to herself, toying with the guards may have been a touch reckless... Oh, all's well that ends well. If Warden had turned quickly enough to see the perfume bottle floating behind his head or being tugged up into the vent, her game would have been over then and there. He hadn't caught her, though, and that was all that mattered.
She sauntered into the royal chambers through the wide-open doors, admiring the beautiful craftsponyship that had gone into the room. With a faint blue glow from the pony's horn, the candelabras around the room sparked to life and the curtains were drawn. Warm yellow and orange replaced the cool blue of the moon, changing the entire suite's appearance in an instant. By firelight, the ornate vaulted ceiling was cast in gorgeous shadows and the relatively large space began to feel somewhat smaller and more comfortable. Pausing only a moment to admire the elegant scenery, the masked mare moved on. She had a schedule to keep.
Poking her head into the adjoining spare room, the intruder looked up at the ventilation duct with a slight frown. She had originally intended to enter through here, but the grate had proved too strong to be removed from the inside. The perfume trick had been a stroke of luck, a last-minute improvisation which had worked out brilliantly. She had a solid five minutes alone with the penthouse now before any of the guards returned to investigate. That was more than she actually needed, and far more than she'd hoped for when the original plan failed, so she felt entitled to a little bit of sightseeing.
The paintings and statuary stacked in the room's corners drew her eye, so she lit several more candles in order to examine them properly. A critical eye revealed several masterworks, though most were of middling quality. All would fetch fine prices at any market, however, and the notoriously tasteless prince had likely paid a substantial premium. A grin crossed the mare's face beneath her mask. Given that the auction selling these pieces had been a charity affair, the contents of this room could very well represent the most generous thing Prince Blueblood had ever done. The irony was terribly amusing. All the same, though, these were not the goal tonight, and so the intruder replaced several dust tarps she had moved and continued on to the bedroom.
“Ah, yes, here we are...” A light giggle filled the air. In their rush to reach safety from their 'attacker', the royal entourage had fled without much of the prince's property, never suspecting that their charge had never truly been in any danger. A knife dropped in the vent and her disguise's wig tossed theatrically down the air shaft, and they'd assumed an assassin was at hoof. That pegasus had been so bent on eliminating the 'threat', he'd charged right past her hiding place in the side room's vent shaft without so much as a glance in her direction. The notion of a simple thief likely hadn't even crossed the guards' minds yet.
The masked mare glanced around the room, sizing up her options for the short amount of time she had left. A small strongbox sitting in one corner of the room contained his spending money from the day's auction, likely a rather respectable sum even after paying for his purchases. The closet was stacked with several fine suits, any one of which would cost the average Equestrian citizen months of their earnings. Even the bathroom, on inspection, had been used to store a surprisingly large collection of jewelry and high-end cosmetics. What finally drew her eye, though, was the simple, scuffed block of silver set with gemstones sitting on a small cushion upon the prince's bedside table.
Upon closer inspection, it seemed like an unremarkable trinket. A silver medallion with brass fittings, the small broach bore Blueblood's family crest on the front in a miniature mosaic of crushed precious stones, quite a few of which were actually missing or scratched. What made this particular broach special, however, was the fact that it had been hoof-crafted by Prince Blueblood the First over three hundred years earlier and passed down in his family line for generations. Its age and famous creator made it a valuable museum piece, to be sure, but the personal history of the nobleponies who had worn it made this a priceless and irreplaceable family heirloom of Equestrian royalty. It was the perfect target for the infamous jewel thief known as the Collector.
She smiled, turning the medallion over in her telekinesis. “Simply marvelous. And now, you're mine.” The Collector tucked the Blueblood family crest into the small satchel at her side and replaced it on the nightstand with her calling card: a small quartz crystal, perfectly clear, with the monogram 'C' carved onto the face to mark her passing. She made certain to cinch down the precious pouch's straps and then simply cantered out of the room as every flame within was snuffed out. Just before making her final exit, though, she stopped for a moment. A devious smile crossed her features, and she gave a giggle that could only be described as mischievous. She reentered the darkened suite for a brief moment, then walked back into the hallway. She clambered back up the rope into the ventilation duct and vanished into the hotel's innards. Her job was done here. Silence and stillness reigned once more in her wake.