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Alegra quirked a brow. She supposed it was understandable, him being the Crown Prince and her being a noblewoman, that he wouldn't want her to come along or even expect her to. She suspected if he'd known she was a knight - well, if she was male, that was - he'd feel a bit differently; but the important thing was that she knew, and she was certainly not about to let him go off alone - the loyalty was ingrained in her, as was her inability to back off from what was clearly not going to go very well. She knew very well that the chances of them being travelers who just happened to be in the exact same direction as his horse were very, very small.

But feigning ignorance was, perhaps, the best way to go about this. He may even see through the ruse, but he couldn't call her out on it without admitting there was danger, in which case her decision would remain even so. Her intention was not to manipulate him, far from it, but only to ensure he remained safe... or at least, safer than if he was alone. He was their prince, she could hardly allow something to happen to him while she was around to prevent it.

"What for?" she inquired, tilting her head to the side. "The horse tracks are that way - perhaps those people have found your horse for you." She quirked a brow. "And if they get too far ahead, it will be quite difficult for you to travel on foot after them. You don't want to become stranded out here." Her logic was only as sound as she could make it, but she couldn't help that. And regardless, as long as it wasn't some huge coven of men, she was fairly certain they'd be able to fight them successfully if it came to it. Arthur's skills were renowned throughout Camelot, not to mention she'd seen them first-hand, and she knew her own equally well.

"I'm sure adventure is simply lurking somewhere," she forshadowed airily with a wide gesture of her hand and a laugh. "Or we could just invent one. We'll have all sorts of fun relaying the events of our perilous journey after your horse back to our friends and family." She knew she would, at least. Her mother's expression would be priceless, and she simply couldn't wait for her brother's reaction - he'd be torn by loyalty to the prince and annoyance with her for gallivanting off on her own, she was sure of it. And, in her own twisted sense of ironic humor, that sounded absolutely divine; she took great pleasure in disconcerting her poor sibling, for all she loved him.

"I've only been stung once, thankfully," she recalled. "I was probably four or five years of age, and I cried so hard and for so long that my eyes were redder than the sting." At this, she grinned. "And never was I so doted upon by my family, either. Perhaps I should return later to the nest that assaulted you, see if I can't get a necklace out of the bargain." That point, at the very least, had not a shred of seriousness to it; her tolerance for pain was actually a lack there of, and she would probably cry even now if she found herself stung by one of those wretched creatures.

It was the unnatural sound of shuffling that caught Alegra's attention. She didn't spend much time out in these parts, so she didn't know if there might be an animal that could be making such a noise - but it certainly didn't sound beastly to her. It sounded human; dangerously human, at that, and in the same direction as the prince's horse. "There are people ahead," she murmured, though she was quite certain he already knew that - she just wanted him to know that she knew, which would un-complicate things in the event that they weren't innocent travelers. The last thing she needed him concerning himself with was the possibility that he could have a distraught noblewoman on his hands, which was the exact opposite of the case.

Well, so much for throwing him into a panic of apologies - he seemed to have maintained his composure perfectly, and it irked her to no end. That was her baby he'd just smashed! Or, well... it could have been. She was pretending it was. Same difference when it came to how she should react, right? Her response was actually a lack thereof, she simply stared at him in utter incredulity, speechless. The nerve of some people - and a knight, no less!

"Stating your beliefs?" she echoed with an arched brow, and then declared, "They are the same. You speak it as a statement when mentally you're questioning the authenticity of my own statement." She shook her head in annoyance. "It's not clever to reword something for your own benefit when the receiving party is more than intelligent enough to detect it - and if you comment on my intellect, so help me..." She left the threat open ended, completely disregarding the hypocrisy of what she'd said. She'd reworded things to suit her benefit loads of times, probably had even as they were speaking - but she was peeved and that was irrelevant. Besides, she did it better, anyway.

There were almost visible ears perking forward from her head when she heard his next sentence, just before her eyes narrowed like a cat who had found a mouse. So he wanted to avoid being on bad terms with her brother, did he? Well, that was certainly something she could use against him, at least in the hopes that he was more afraid of a bad report by her than he was of him finding out he'd "left" her in the forest - as if she wasn't capable of managing on her own! Really! And her brother would no doubt agree with him to begin with after he'd laughed himself silly for a few hours, but Richard didn't have to know that - not if she ever wanted to be put on the bloody ground again. "That depends," she responded coyly, "on how it progresses. It's hardly knightly to go carting around unwilling women."

Alegra shook her head, rolling her eyes. "Freewill is not subjective to the person allowing it," she said flatly. "If you truly respected my freewill and ability to make and follow through with my own decisions, you would put me down and let me go about things on my own. Rescuing a damsel in distress doesn't count for any points when the damsel is not only not in distress, but also adverse to help." She tossed her hair - a great feat, considering her current position. "You've saved me from the atrocious bugs that otherwise would surely have eaten my poor feminine self alive, but your duty ended there. You're only continuing to be a bastard."

Her brows shot up in annoyance. "Would you be fine if you were two inches long and boneless, and abruptly smashed into a wall of steel?" she demanded to know. She actually knew very little about the matter herself, not ever having needed to since she wasn't married and her mother being too absentminded to really mention it. In fact, she wasn't even certain how one would know if they miscarried, though she had a vague recollection of when it had happened to her own mother - but that had been a decade or longer ago, and she had been shooed away from the scene before she really knew what was happening, anyway. All she truly knew was that it had made her quite sick for while - but sick in what way and how long it had been before she got sick were a mystery to her, so on this front she really had no ability to say one way or the other.

She smirked a little, though her face was hidden from view since she was still over his bloody shoulder, when he hinted that she may be lying to begin with. Smart man, she thought, though she wasn't going to abandon her case just because he'd called her out on the possibility of its falseness. "You're questioning whether or not I am?" she asked incredulously, which was not entirely forced. She'd known many people to think that someone was lying when they said they weren't pregnant, but never one to question a woman who said she was - and a man, no less! She was rather dumbfounded by it, to say the least, and supposed he must have a lot of confidence to issue such a statement. "I haven't lied yet," she reminded him, "why would this be the first one?"

She supposed she was safe on that note, at least, unless he happened to have a midwife for a mother or something; there was no way he would know more about it than she did, even as little as she knew, so it would be impossible for him to truly call her lie. She was certain that there was a period of time where there was no visible evidence at all, which was a good thing, considering that a lack thereof would be a dead give away on her small frame.

When he touched her to the ground, she felt the steam rising within her head again. "Cute," she snapped at him, thrashing a bit to try to free herself, though she knew it was essentially hopeless. Her physical prowess lied in sword fighting; she had little actual strength to speak of, though at the moment she'd have traded a lifetime of sword skills to be able to punch this egoistic knight hard enough to send him staggering. If he wasn't wearing armor, she could have at least placed a well-maneuvered kick, but he seemed to have all of the advantages here - a fact she was not fond of in the least. Once more, she considered her tear-related plan, but decided to give it just a little while longer and see what happened, not to mention that she was curious as to what he would do when (and if) he actually got her onto the horse. Unless he had rope to tie her with, she wondered how he planned to keep her on it.

She yelped once again when he shifted her to the more traditional method of carrying a woman, her eyes briefly narrowing nearly to slits. He was treating her like a toy! She had to get heavy at some point, didn't she? He couldn't carry her around forever - she hoped. However, she did find this to be a better position, as it gave her much better access and allowed him to see her face - which was currently occupied glowering daggers at him, as if she hoped the force of it would bring him to his knees. "You clearly have no regard for free will," she hissed.

She listened to his lecture about death with little care, wishing very much to inform him that she knew that quite well but unable to do so, lest she reveal her cover as knight. Instead, she simply replied, "But you are a knight, are you not? At Prince Arthur's command, you would go into battle and slay men who most likely do not deserve it, and instead are simply following the orders of their commanders. Perhaps death is no "minor thing," but for someone who speaks so strongly against it, you still are forced to treat it as such." A challenged blazed in the bright blue of her eyes, though what exactly the challenge was was entirely unclear to even herself; it was really just the fact that she was challenging him to begin with.

Her initial reaction to his question was just to inform him that she did not owe any explanation to him, but she thought better of it. Why not tell the truth? He was probably on some reluctant journey, she had truly come to the practically forbidden forest for a stroll. "I came here on a walk," she answered somewhat smugly. "A nice afternoon of relaxation." It hadn't exactly turned out to be such, but the intention had been there and that was all that really mattered, though by this point she was wondering if she should ever find it wise to stroll through the damn forest ever again. First bandits and a man that was far worse, and now spiders; what an awful place to be.

At his insistence, she lifted her brows, wondering if he was really so foolish as to think that was all it would take to convince her (which obviously would have been an incorrect assumption). She was just opening her mouth to object when he abruptly turned around and grabbed at her, and though she had reflexes to be proud of, it was so unexpected that she had absolutely no time to react before she found herself hoisted over his shoulder with a yelp of shock and indignity. Of all the nerve!

On some level, she found herself rather pleased that he was finally responding and even sinking to her own level, but that was immediately demolished by the fact that she was over his shoulder. The hell if she would be treated like a rag doll! Her fury came in waves. Even as a child, she'd been tiny, and people had constantly been picking her up and setting her places and never allowing her to do a thing on her own. By the time she was five, she'd stopped letting them completely, and she was quite certain no one had done so since, except perhaps when she fell off a horse or something and her brother carried her home. She was nineteen, yet here she found herself, more than five feet off the ground thanks to an absolute stranger!

"Bumbling cad!," she shouted, nearly shrieking. "I'm carrying!" She completely ignored the fact (as she often did) that that was a taboo subject among men; she didn't care how hard he blushed as long as he set her the hell down. "Put me down before you kill it, if you haven't already!" She wriggled against his shoulder, beating her fists against his back and letting out a gasp when the point of it drove into her stomach for her efforts, effectively winding her - which was probably a good thing, because if she'd had air to shout with, she'd have been using it for curses by now.

Alegra was certain he was just getting all sorts of amusement from this, but she'd be damned if she let it get to her. If he had any intentions for the night, she told herself uneasily, he was very sorely mistaken, and that brought her a very grim sense of satisfaction; he really wasn't benefiting any from this little encounter, except, of course, all of the money he was extorting from her. Bastard. She was vaguely concerned about the possibility that he might tell people about the nighttime activities - even if it was only a lack thereof - but it wasn't enough to seriously worry her. He wouldn't say anything that would completely destroy her social status or there wold be no point in their little deal, and her family's reputation would easily cover up any small scandal.

His words brought her out of her thoughts, and she snorted. A good night kiss? She knew he was only mocking her, but honestly, that was a bit ridiculous. Of course, a little plan formed in her mind even so. She turned around, smiling impishly. "A kiss is what you want?" she asked with raised brows. "A kiss you shall have." She leaned in deliberately towards him, and at the last moment deviated, her mouth going to the side of his neck where she bit down, hard. A flash of a second later and she removed her teeth from his skin, turned back over, and prepared herself for sleep. She had no doubt that he would feel the need to exert some sort of revenge, but she would do her best to ignore him, even as she smirked slightly into the darkness.

Alegra gave him a look that silently but potently questioned his intelligence. "The kind of man that would throw a blonde bimbo over his arm," she repeated, a bit more slowly as if he was hard of understanding. She could see his annoyance bubbling under the surface, which came as no surprise at this point, considering she'd all but called him a pock-marked snake of a man - which would come later, she was sure, if he didn't crack before then. It was nearly a game for her by this point. She had yet to meet a person that she couldn't needle her way under the skin of, and she had no intention of allowing him to be the first.

"Killed them, have you?" she asked in an amused voice, like she was speaking to an story-telling child. "I think not. Not a kind, collected man like yourself." Of course, even if he had, she was the least likely woman in the world to have a problem with it. She couldn't stand the idea of killing someone purposefully, but she'd certainly had her share of blood on her hands and lives to her sword. Alegra rarely went looking for trouble that required such a solution, but it frequently found its way to her, just as it had today with the spiders, and when faced with a man whose intentions were black as night and painted on his face, she had no qualms about ramming a sword through his stomach and leaving him.

"'More messed up'?" she quoted, arching a brow. "Because giant killer bees would truly surprise you in a forest where homicidal lizards and giant spiders and ravenous men take humans as their pray as frequently as they can manage?" She would know. "You have been around here before, have you not? Didn't you say you were a knight?"

She saw the change of mood reflected in his eyes, and her own narrowed much like a cat's. He was growing a backbone, it seemed, subtly throwing her insult back in her face. If she were in the mood to be impressed, that would have done the trick, but was it was, she was far from allowing that. "I think not," she said simply, her eyes drifting to the horse in question. It was a beautiful creature, much like its owner - a thought she disregarded almost before she was done thinking it - and she'd always had a fondness for them, even envied their freedom. A female horse was still admired for her strength and speed without everyone criticizing it. She turned back to look at him and said rather smirkishly, "No, I believe the horse should be reserved for more delicate creatures like yourself. You wouldn't want to twist an ankle - the forest floor can be quite tricky."

Was this guy even human? He should have been more than annoyed with her by now, but instead he simply defended himself, seemingly completely untouched by her offense - save for the faint blush of his cheeks, which she only now noticed. It brought her decent satisfaction, but it was destroyed by the sense of attraction she felt because of it that was far too ill-timed for her liking. She exchanged all of the unwanted sensations for a subtle feeling of amusement. "I am hardly a fair lady," she said, snorting as if to drive the point home. "I'm sure there are far better out there for you to save from the perilous fate of overgrown bugs." She spoke the words incredulously, having forgotten that minutes earlier she'd been musing in disgust over their massive size.

She watched his surprise with none of her own once she'd given her name. She saw it reflected on the faces of all those who knew her brother, of course. People couldn't help but wonder how the same parents that had produced such a noble, charming knight had also managed to create the tiny ball of dynamite that was his sister. Alegra found it wonderfully funny, as she did with most controversial things, but she did have flashes of sympathy for her poor sibling, as he was bound not only by society's opinion of him but of her, too. For the most part, she put on a lovely face in public and that was that, but there were rumors circulating due to those - men especially - that she had been less than polite to in public, and she genuinely regretted that Drake was exposed to them, though she knew well that he found it every bit as comical as she did.

His description of himself as a humble knight had her internally rolling her eyes. Did she have to poke his eye or something? She was becoming seriously curious as to whether he could even be infuriated, but reminded herself that everyone had their breaking point. Surely he applied.

As she digested his request, she considered her options. She was most certainly capable of escorting herself home, spiders be damned, and she rebelled at the very though of needing someone to guide her - but then, she doubted when she'd have another opportunity to attempt to get under his skin, so prolonging their time together seemed the better option. She decided that she was really becoming very wicked if she was keeping company with someone for the sole purpose of annoying them, but that little personality flaw could be dealt with later, because she was too determined to follow through with it to try and resist now. This was part of what made her so incredibly difficult to deal with; it was like dealing with a nine year old that possessed the intuition and intelligence of an adult. A lethal combination, indeed. "You may," she finally said, albeit a bit arrogantly.

Alegra couldn't help but grimace slightly at his comment. More spiders; that was exactly what she needed right now. She sighed, wiping at her face again and taking a brief look around before her gaze settled back on him. She supposed she really ought to thank him, but the hell if she would. Her mother would have had an absolute conniption if she knew, but then again, her mother wasn't there, was she? And even if she had been, she probably would've been more appalled at the sight of her daughter dicing up spiders than the fact that she had failed to commend the knight that had come to assist her. Assistance she hadn't needed, she reminded herself for the umpteenth time. The busybody.

She recalled that he'd just complimented her and tried not to be pleased about the fact. Of course she'd handled herself well; she was an expert with a sword. As she inspected him, trying to decide how to respond, she found herself liking what she saw much too much. Further investigation of his face revealed him to be familiar; very faintly familiar. A knight, most likely, so she'd probably seen him while she herself was in disguise. She sighed, mulling over how unbelievably complicated the day had become; if she had a horse, she'd be halfway across the forest by now, eager to forget this entire thing had ever happened.

"I knew that," she muttered, her mood too foul for her to even pretend to put on the guise of the noble lady that she was. He'd already seen her fighting, anyway, so there wasn't much to be done for it; she could only hope he wasn't the type to use it against her, such as the last bloody knight she'd come across in this forest. Admittedly, this one seemed a bit nicer, but he was too nice (at this point, her furious subconscious was grabbing at strings to lay fault to him). What business did he have, running around and saving - "saving" - women in trouble? Did men even do that any more? Not without deeper intentions, she told herself firmly. He's obviously heartless. "You may leave now," she announced.