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Vaughn had not been expecting her sudden reaction. He was pleasantly surprised. Pleasantly, because she was keeping things interesting. She was not willing to just submit. She was willing to fight. And with that, Vaughn could have some fun. When the blade was loosened from his grasp by her, he decided to fully let it fall to the ground. Her actions seemed drawn out, but eventually, she stood on her two feet. Arms out, Prepared to fight back. He chuckled, sinisterly amused by her display of defensive actions. "Feisty," he commented. "I like that." Yes. That was meant to come out as perverted as one would take it. With a devilish gleam in his eyes, he watched her carefully. She was right. He had indeed underestimated her. For as soon as he had seen her modest demeanor, he thought of her as a little vulnerable girl. But she proved him wrong. It was something that both frustrated him and pleasured him.

Along the lines of frustration, Vaughn did not quite enjoy being insulted. Overestimated. He should never be overestimated. But such agitation was better expressed in other ways. Expressing arrogance was a weakness for it made a person predictable. "Well, what are you waiting for," he said in a strangely expectant tone. A smirk still played on his lips and he locked his gaze on her. He was referring to the sword that was now on the ground between them. The one item that separated them. "Are you not going to pick it up." He did not draw attention to it with his eyes. For he was still too busy noticing every small feature of beauty on her face. And on her body. Yet for his, it appeared his fixation was on her eyes. "Are you not going to kill me with it." Vaughn did not fear death. But the main purpose of his taunting encouragement was to test her limits. To see just how far she would go in her defensive actions. Now she had a weapon within her grasp. Would she take it?

Vaughn was not an impatient man. He could wait for as long as it took for her to abide his words. Though part of him had a feeling she would not. Unless, he had instilled enough fear in her to get her to do what he willed. It was all a game to him. Clearly not to her. But to him, the perverse pleasure of controlling any given situation was what fueled his words and actions. She did not seem to share his amusement in the matter. Her graceful features, while still soft, held a degree of fear in them. It was evident that she was not used to this kind of behavior. To these kinds of demands. And yet, her dress was so very unique. Alluring to any man who had not seen such a style before. Vaughn had traveled the world and this was one of the first women he had come across with such an attire. Unfortunately for her, it had been enough to force his presence on to her.

When she moved her head closer to him, Vaughn's smile only spread. Her discomfort brought him sheer pleasure. Especially on such suggestive commands as the one he had made. Would she comply? Would she resist? She began to slip to her knees, Vaughn's locked gaze on her showed the tears in her eyes. He wondered if he could break her. Only to prove that it was possible. He watched her carefully. It was as if she was a magnet, constantly pulling his sight to her; some unseen force making sure it stayed there. Vaughn did not consider himself a weak man; but she certainly had a way of distracting him with her undeniable beauty.

But he had to focus. Once she was on her knees, crying, Vaughn's smirk remained plastered on his lips. He reached to his side and pulled out a large dagger. He would have gone for the sword. But since they were so close in distance, he did not need such a long weapon. He slowly began to release his hold in her wrist, only to replace one threatening action with another. He held the sword against her throat, at a side angle. All it would take would be one strong swipe and her throat would be slit. Of course, he would not yet do that, if at all. He did not even cut her. It would be quite a shame to create any blemish on her soft, fair skin. While he kept the dagger there, he did not yet place too much pressure. So the cool metal would just be gently [if such a word could be used to describe this placement] rested against her throat. "Would you risk your life, to save your virtue?"

She was just one of those people. Finding the good in everyone. A notion of an idealist, wishing for the best, even when faced with the worst. Had Vaughn had any sort of conscience, he would not have done half the things he had. He would not resort to murder, blackmail and exploitation, thievery, and so on. And set simply spouting off his list of crimes seemed insufficient. He wanted her to see for herself; to experience that he was not one who had kindness in his heart. But proving that, right now, would be difficult. Not because he has reservations, but because there was no one else around. No other means to use. Just her. And her, alluring self. That only seemed to draw him in more. Seeing the way she looked away from him, was easily recognized as an expression of how uncomfortable she felt. Good. That was at least a start then. So as she spoke her words, he kept his eyes intently locked on her. The notion of personal space escaped him. As did the rudeness in staring at someone.

"There is only one way to find out," he told her, in a rather pleased voice. He was almost anticipating for her to say something that he could do. Something that would disprove her. Yet the question had remained unresolved. "And that is dependent on what you say. And what I do." What he could do. How far he would go. Right now, judging from their position he could certainly imply a dark evil that only the most crude of men would ever do. After all, they were so close, and it would only take the slightest movement forward. Asserting his dominance in forceful means. While Vaughn was anything but a rapist, she did not know that. Perhaps he would see, after all, how far she believed he would go. So with that, he grabbed her wrist with his hand, to ensure she stayed in place; to have that hold over her. And finally closed the distance, his lips now firmly pressed against hers. Her reaction could entail a number of things: a slap on the face, a kick in the groin. Either way, he was prepared to see the extent of what she would do in return to this, intimate action.

Their conversation may seem like it was going in circles. But Vaughn was getting a great deal of information. While his questions were not being answered, he was studying her carefully. He had not believed it when she told him that she was simply a peaceful traveler. And this doubt had been confirmed when she went on to say that she had revealed her identity too early before. Which meant, that she was someone of more importance than she was letting on. These possibilities could not be so easily narrowed down. It could entail a wide range of things. But she had managed to peak Vaughn's curiosity. The more a person talked, the more you could get from them.

"If you believe I am working for them, then why do you ask me what direction Camelot is in. You expressed your doubt in trusting me. Why trust my answer?" It was understandable; common even, for a woman, not to trust a male stranger. Yet, if that were the case, why would she trust in his answer to her question? She asked it enough times, seeming desperate, admitting to being desperate. Would she really believe him if he pointed her in a direction? "Seems we have reached an impass," he said with slight amusement. He was not going to tell her answers; if she was not going to tell him. Nor was he going to let her out of his sight if the return to her previous captor could prove to be profitable for him. Either way, she was staying right here. Only she did not know it yet.

Vaughn had nothing to do with any of the business that was taking place here. He was merely here out of boredom. Out of a lack of anything better to do. And of course, more importantly, to see what sort of trouble he could stir up. It was not difficult really. Alistair was here. Princess Isadora was here. That was all he needed really to cause some problems. Posing as a knight from Gwent, he had access to most resources that he needed. He was able to be in the company of those higher up. And, he would have access to the castle. Which is why he was here, only to create a diversion. any of the knights were in the training field, sparring. Practicing. As some of them seemed to want to create a bit of an informal tournament. Hmm. This could prove to be the best distraction; one that would allow him to slip into the castle while everyone was busy paying attention to the 'fight'.

Now, he needed it to be a worthy one. He casually glanced around at the potential participants. It did not take long to find the perfect two. Alistair. And Prince Arthur. Yes. Perfect. The tension between them was already great, and this would give them an opportunity to have an intense fight, one that was a bit more serious than just friendly sparing. As the men discussed how they were going to go about doing this, Vaughn decided to interject. Their nonesense was wasting precious time. Time that could be better spent sneaking into the castle and taking what he could. "I have a suggestion, if I may." Politeness. He had to be though, just for now so that he would be heard.

"What about Sir Alistair of Gwent," -- Vaughn had to pause for a moment, holding back laughter at how ridiculous that title sounded in front of the Druid's name. "And Prince Arthur of Camelot." The two appeared to be a good match. One had a reputation as a strong combatant, the other had the size and apparent strength to be a suitable match. Of course, Vaughn did not use this logic to suggest the pair. He knew that the fight would turn into something more personal. Others however were not aware of this. That much was clear when they all began to nod their heads, seemingly impressed with this match.

[ Tag Alistair and Arthur ]

There was something about her cold glare and tone of voice, that sent some sort of chill down Vaughn's spine. It gave him a strange sort of thrill, to encounter someone so out of the norm. So out of the ordinary. Yes. There was something different about her indeed, and Vaughn was highly intrigued. He continued to smile. Had he any sort of warning instincts, they would have been screaming at him to get away. But it was a good thing he did not. For that was what kept him firmly in place before her. Solve the ruckus? Hmm. "I believe it has already been resolved, for I no longer see men throwing themselves at each other only to impress you." No thanks to him, and he was well aware of this fact. It was only because she had managed to sneak away unnoticed, for everyone was distracted beating up each other. The fools missed the point of the entire thing. Then again, one could never rely on a drunk man to be perceptive.

"Besides, I thought it would have caused you to feel, flattered," he said, a bit teasingly. He knew that it would lead to a fight. That woman, contrary to popular belief, did not enjoy a bunch of men fighting over them. A couple, perhaps. But not a bunch of drunkards. Plus, she seemed to already know that he was the one who started this whole situation. How? Who knows. Maybe she was more perceptive than he had given her credit for. Maybe she was more than just a pretty face. Maybe she actually had a brain in there.

With her little strategic movements, light weight, and speedy gestures, he did indeed stumble. But this was far from any sort of admittance of defeat. Before nearly hitting the ground after his already compromised balance becoming less stable when she kicked him, he managed to catch himself. He did not fall. Nor did he feel threatened by her words, or even actions. Instead, her 'threat' caused him to deeply chuckle, as he gave her a slightly amused smile. He was leaning towards not killing her. Where would the fun in that be anyway. It was not every day that he came across a fake damsel in distress, who in actuality, wished to pick a fight with men. Well, that was what it seemed like. He was still curious to find out her motives for doing this. To rob someone. An ambush perhaps. If it was an ambush then her companions were not very attentive, nor did they have good timing.

Vaughn kept a bit of a distance from her, as much as she allowed after her break from his grasp. "My my. Feisty little creature aren't you," he commented, still smiling. His words were taunting and mocking towards her, obviously. Vaughn more so enjoyed provoking people through verbal means. It always provided great amusement to see what affected them. To see how to get a rise out of them. He intended to find out what sort of subject would cause this from her. One that he already knew of, was to simply ignore her. For the first time he had done that, she did not take too well to it.

Vaughn just continued to smirk. It was safe to say that his partnership with Alistair was at its end. He had fallen for this woman, and with that, all the strings attached to being with a woman who would not condone his behavior. One that led to kidnapping royals and nobles of the like. It was a shame too really. Alistair had been useful. One of the few people that Vaughn made an effort to see more than once. For the sole reason that their alliance had been quite profitable. And now, this woman had ruined it all. Damn women. This is why 'love' was the most ridiculous, delusional notion man had ever concocted to make themselves feel less lonely. Pathetic. Utterly pathetic.

"Oh trust me My Lady. There is of course something you can do that may persuade me to silence." He went back to suggestive propositions, knowing she would not go for it, but enjoyed the vulgar taunting. "If Alistair had gotten you to do it, then that means it must not be very difficult to do." In other words, he was calling her easy. It did not matter to him that he was being so disrespectful to a future Queen of a kingdom. Respect was one of the many lacking traits of Vaughn Adeney. "Speaking of the man rotting away in the dungeon, what is it that you plan to do to him?" That was part of the reason he was here after all. To find out the future of the man who he had successfully kidnapped and held others for ransom with. It was not out of compassion. It was out of sheer curiosity. Besides, it gave him a reason to pay the lovely Isadora a little visit. And he would never pass up an opportunity to do that.

Vaughn kept his eyes locked on her, watching her every move intently. It was going to get increasingly difficult to sit here, attempting to blend into the background. For he was the only man sitting. Ironically, it drew attention to himself from the men who were riled up and just looking for someone as an outlet for their hostility. Vaughn would be no such scapegoat. After all, he had only technically urged a few men to make a move. Though he did know full well how the situation would escalate. He had been in enough taverns and encountered enough drunk men to know just what to say. Which was why this woman was so out of the ordinary. When she said something to the barkeeper and began to move towards the door, Vaughn immediately stood up. He took one final gulp of his drink, putting the mug back onto the table. Even though seconds after a body was thrown on to it, breaking the entire thing.

This was Vaughn's cue. He casually walked through the mad crowd, seeing which exit she had gone through and without asking the bar keepers permission, walked through the same one. Once he was outside his eyes scanned his surroundings, not taking long to find the mysteriously alluring woman. A small smirk formed on his lips as he took a couple of steps towards her. "You certainly did create quite a ruckus back there." His eyes surveyed her body, trailing up and down, thoroughly inspecting her in a way that only men would do towards women. "Not that I can blame them for fighting over such an, exquisite figure."