Isaac had never really prided himself on being a particularly accomplished spy. His appearance was too unusual, it tended to stick in people’s minds, a poor quality in any aspiring participant of espionage. When he had a moment to really consider it, he wasn’t that accomplished at anything, being the best tactician or fighter held no interest to him, he preferred simple pleasures.

Business, business, he had to stop getting side tracked with these foolish periods of self-pity that seemed to be growing more common day by day. Back to the princess, who was still dancing with a worryingly guarded expression, as if engaging in combat. He supposed that was what politics was, some sort of wordy battle of wits, it was beyond him by some measure, but he had little else to do for some time but muse on concepts he had very little interest in. His eyes swept the people around the princess, looking for the more alert stare of a bodyguard. He certainly hadn’t expected to find one staring right back at him. His eyes immediately darted away, settling on a potted plant.

Was he made? Had he been spotted as a fraud, as a threat? What was the likelihood that the man, he presumed, knew who he was or what he was there for?
No, it was more likely he knew how to recognise the gaze of another with hostile intent, even when the expression was guarded. That was the problem with the blood, it picked at the wits, making it hard to hide one’s emotions. He stopped looking at the plant, realising probably too late that it wasn’t an ordinary thing to spend so much time looking at it. 

“Alright mate, keep calm.” He muttered to himself, barely moving his lips as he looked back over at the man. He quickly took in his apparel, decided he wasn’t particularly interested in combat right then, and then began to wrack his brain for any information he had dug up prior to this night. Someone who had made him this quickly, provided he had, was someone with considerable skill. Someone like that working on the light side of the law was bound to have a reputation, was there someone like that in the Princess’ employ?

There was. He had a stupid name, more like a job title, Guardian or something along those lines. Apparently he was good at killing assassins, just his luck. Well, he hadn’t come to assassinate anyone, not tonight, but if he was asked it would be good to test beforehand just how formidable this guard of hers was. He began to move towards the princess, over-exaggerating his intent with some ease due to the natural shakiness of his body. He made his way towards her carefully, often glancing at the guard but mock assured by his own stealth. His right hand crept under his coat, seeking the hilt of the blade hidden by its length, the point at which any good bodyguard would make his move. He was just fifteen feet from the princess…