Vincent had passed multiple servants as he had descended towards the basement; they had all ignored him. It made him chuckle, really. They had put a lot more faith in him than he had ever expected to keep up his end of the bargain. He stared over his shoulder at the men following him… if he hadn’t joined them for this, they’d be having a field day right now. He started to simply admire the place like a guest. After all, he had been invited. He ran his hand to the clasp of his mantle and rubbed it gently, straightening the garment on his shoulders. All of that sneaking… he imagined he hardly looked put together. He stopped at a mirror to admire himself, check for dirt on his clothes… make sure everything was in order. What did a royal kidnapper look like, actually? Did he fit the part? He got careless.

One of the princess’ royal guard rounded a corner. Evidently they were the only ones that were out of the loop. Before Vincent had even realized there was any danger he had drawn a laser pistol and was leveling it towards the group of invaders. He froze; the man had him, dead to rights. He watched the guard’s hand, waiting to see any jerk on the trigger, the perfect moment to dodge. “Who are you?!” barked the guardsman, his command echoing through the hall.

A shot rang, near silent. Vincent simply noticed the slight buzz past his ear before the guard dropped to the ground. “They weren’t to be harmed,” he growled, glaring behind himself.

“Just a tranq dart, sir,” said the man closest to him, averting his gaze and staring to the ground. Vincent sighed and continued towards the door he knew was the princess’. He contemplated simply kicking it in, raising his leg and preparing; after all, realism was key, right?

He thought better of it and let his foot down, knocking gently on the door. If the racket that breaking the wall caused, and the guard’s shout, hadn’t alerted anyone else he did not want to make any more noise. Not before they were holding their hostage. 

“Princess,” he cooed. “You’re needed outside.”