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As soon as Arthur approached her, breaking her out of her thoughts, Alegra beamed. This wasn't the same fake smile that she'd awarded to most of the rest of the people, but a genuine one - his very presence offered her a reprieve from what would surely be another few disgustingly tedious hours. Though she hadn't seen him since their little rescue mission for his horse, she had gotten along surprisingly well with him; Alegra had never thought she'd be able to particularly click with a man so held up in the binds of politics. However, she knew him to be a very sensible man from her time spent as a knight, and after that excursion of theirs, the point had been proven once again - along with the fact that he was, in fact, able to take a joke and be humble, which she considered very important traits. She very much enjoyed his company, and there really was no competition among the droll rest of the crowd.

"Prince Arthur," she greeted in return, bowing her head with an equally-subtle curtsy. "Thank you. You're looking quite handsome, yourself." Though it wasn't very traditional for women to return the compliment, she doubted he would mind - after all, they'd fought bandits together. There was no way he thought she was anything near traditional to begin with, and Alegra had a policy of saying what she thought when given the opportunity - and he did look very nice tonight, just like everyone else. Why not tell him so?

Though the people she had previously been engaging with - or rather, avoiding engaging with - seemed more than elated to have him so near them, Alegra subtly stepped away from them. If they were looking for something to gossip about or a person to eavesdrop on, they were welcome to go elsewhere; Alegra allowed no one in on her business unless the person she was involved with wished it. She had been somewhat separate from them, anyway, so there was hardly a reason to let them stick their noses into her affairs. "Are you enjoying yourself?" she asked curiously, tilting her head to the side. He was the prince, so she supposed he would be, but she couldn't help but wonder if anyone else felt as she did - there by obligation, but more against their will. She doubted it.

The whole monster-bug-trying-to-eat-you thing was getting very old, very fast. Her arms were getting tired from swinging side to side so much, something she hadn't trained for - in general, she fought humans, which were much taller than they were wide. This was the opposite case, and the unused muscles were groaning in protest over their blatant abuse. Alegra, never one to sympathize with herself over a weakness - especially not one that could cause her to end up between spider mandibles any second now - ignored it.

When she looked over, therefore, after her peripheral caught the unmistakable flash of a blade, she was momentarily stunned and nearly lost a few fingers for it. A man? What on earth was he doing here - and better yet, when the hell did he arrive? Her brows furrowed in concentration as she attempted to balance her thoughts with the raging arachnids, which didn't seem to be going terribly well in her favor. She took a deep breath, trying to clear her thoughts, and when she looked again, the spider that was just as big as she was had obscured her view. For several moments, she considered the thought that she had only imagined him - it wouldn't be the first time she'd tricked herself into believing something, she was sure. But, as if on cue, the spider moved again, and there he was.

A flash of spider movement to the side, and she dodged, but just a second too late - she avoided most of the blow, but wound up with a lovely slash down her face. Just like the last time she'd fought something in this forest. "Would you just go away?" she hissed at it, and slammed her sword straight into its stomach; but before she could feel victory over that small win - it was wounded, though she didn't think it was dead - she heard the man's voice, obviously speaking to her unless he had a knack for talking with their eight-legged friends. Did she need assistance? Alegra bristled instantly. No, she most certainly did not need assistance! She was perfectly independent.

"I don't-" she began, but was cut off when she had to duck to avoid another spider to the face. She growled in frustration.

It's the forth day, Alegra reminded herself, taking a deep breath. One day left to go. By this point, the sea of people - most of whom she still didn't know, and didn't care to - was nearly nauseating. She was beyond putting up with strangers who "accidentally" bumped into her in order to get her attention - and, even more so, the ones who really did accidentally bump into her because she was a head and a half shorter. The whole thing was becoming ridiculous, and if her mother hadn't been so excited about the whole thing, she would've put up a much bigger fuss by the end of day two.

At the very least, tonight she had the satisfaction of enjoying her dress. Women had been instructed to dress under a winter theme, and while many of them seemed to have taken that far too much to heart - fur and massive six-layer skirts were everywhere - Alegra had taken a much slighter approach. Her dress was elegantly cut, with long bell sleeves, in a nice blue satin with silver threads and an underlying layer of white. Her hair was pulled back in two ivory combs with a subtle sapphire accent. Wintery enough for her, and she had managed to avoid looking like a pompous bimbo whose sole desire was to over-heat and suffocate others in their poofy fabric. However, tonight she had arrived slightly late, and as such had been unable to locate any (pleasantly) familiar faces.

With her mother and brother off socializing, it left her standing among a group of people who were talking at and around her and, thankfully, didn't care much that she wasn't responding. She was sorely tempted to leave the ball, but she didn't have any idea where she would go, and if her mother searched for her and was unable to find her, the rest of the night would be ruined by their argument.

Alegra gazed longingly at the entrance for a moment before turning back to her company, fingering the rim of her untouched glass of dark wine. She normally refrained from drinking and left the wine as an accessory - her ability to handle liquor was positively dreadful, though she'd never admit it - but at this rate, she was beginning to think she might need it. Tonight was passing even more slowly than usual, and she'd scarcely been there for half of an hour yet.

Once they started off, Alegra tightened her knees once more to get a better grip on the horse. It took her several moments to achieve balance - a very uncomfortable several moments, at that - but she managed to situate herself just well enough that she moved up and down with the horse rather than against it. In an instance such as this, the enormous size difference between the animal and its owner actually helped, as it allowed her to better meld herself into him. And, of course, it helped that she'd been riding the lovely thing for years now and was very familiar with the way it moved. No falling off today - or so she hoped.

Alegra considered his offer for a good minute or so. Her mother would kill her, of course, if she did not accept the offer to dine with a prince, and she'd never hear the end of it - but then, nor would she hear the end of being gone much longer than she had originally anticipated. Of course, she mused, any punishments and lectures would be easily avoided once she explained the circumstances, and in fact Lady Catherine would be more likely to throw a party and request a recitation of every word spoken. Alegra's lips quirked in a wry smile - oh, if only her mother knew the circumstances to begin with! Perhaps it was better this way, after all.

"That would be lovely," she said with another smile, though he obviously could not see with his eyes being used to steer the horse. She didn't mind the rain at all, really, and if anything was a little sad to know that she would not enjoy the full of it, but this, too, was for the better. If she became ill, it would prove to be an obnoxious inconvenience; there was nothing the wily young woman liked less than being cooped up all day against her will, and feeling sick would only make the experience worse. Though this had not been her original plan at all, the excuse justified the means, and if anything she was glad to be of assistance.

This was becoming increasingly agitating. Alegra wasn't certain what next to do - how far was too far? Not to mention that he still showed no signs of moving any time soon. Was there any point in arousing him if he wasn't going to leave, anyway? None that she could think of. She removed her hand from his chest and rolled over, annoyed but holding it in. The hell if he was going to chase her out of her own bed! She was stubborn, as she had doubtless proven time and time again, and the trait didn't apply only depending on the circumstances. Her bed was her bed, and she was going to sleep in it.

Alegra ran a hand through her hair, walking over to the vanity and running a brush through it a few times to prevent it snarling. She grabbed a white cotton nightgown from her armoire and painstakingly blew out every single candle in the room, leaving it completely dark - an advantage she used to strip out of her dress and into the nightgown, all within barely a minute. Of course, he'd already seen her nearly naked, so she wasn't certain what the point was, but that hadn't demolished the fact that she still had her pride. With the lights out and her clothing successfully changed, she crawled back into her side of the bed and pulled the comforter stuffed with goose feathers over her, muttering a snarkish, "Good night, Vlad." She'd simply have to wake up early enough to avoid the servants seeing them in the room together.

Unwilling to allow him to pique all of the emotions that she had so carefully hidden, Alegra didn't bother responding to his comment regarding the earrings. He was trying to set her off, trying to get a rise out of her - trying to gain some reassurance that there was amusement to be had from stealing a sentimental possession. Well, she wasn't going to feed his bloody addiction for sadism. Somewhere inside, there was fury at him for it, but mostly wary resignation. She'd known it could happen, and she'd taken her chances. Her mistake, really, to put a shiny toy in the hands of a greedy child. She wouldn't make the same one again.

Her bright eyes watched him as he crossed over too lay down on top of her bed. The cad! Alegra didn't even want to think about how dirty his armor might be, and that was bad enough without him joining it. Her bed, of all places! Was there nothing he respected? Even mentally, the question was rhetorical. Of course there wasn't. She had come to that conclusion hours ago. At his not-so-subtle (as intended, she figured ruefully) implication, her eyes narrowed like a cats, but as of yet it was still clear of any expression. All at once, she transformed. Two could play this game, and she was a good player, indeed. She rolled over to face him, an intense expression of what seemed to be a mixture of concentration and seduction on her face. "Like what?" she purred, her fingers dancing feather-light on top of his breastplate.

To her credit, Alegra managed to avoid sticking her tongue out, making a face or even rolling her eyes when Vaughn made the declaration that he planned to spend the remainder of the night in her company. The situation frustrated her to no end, but she had to admit that it was much more interesting tonight than usual because of it. She absolutely loathed these ridiculous social gatherings, despite that (or perhaps because) she had been attending them for years and years. They were all the same - all blurred memories of colorful dresses, intoxicated citizens, and being forced to dance with men she didn't like until her feet were sore, and even then being expected to smile and be charming. Though she was equally annoyed and amused with the way things were going, she had to admit that tonight was out of the usual, and that in and of itself made it better.

"Of course, of course," Lady Catherine said with a knowing smile and a nonchalant sweep of her hand. "You two have fun, now." As soon as he made known the possibility of escorting them home, the older women took a flustered air about her with a wide smile. "What a thoughtful young man you are," she commented. Alegra turned her head to the side so that she could roll her eyes without her mother noticing. Thoughtful, indeed, she thought dryly. Thoughtful of himself, that is.

She, in turn, ignored his question. His sarcasm was such that it was not even worth acknowledging, and the question had quite clearly been meant to be rhetorical. All she could do was watch him, thoroughly irked, as he continued to sift through her belongings, and she almost wished he could come across one of her racier pairs of panties, if only to see his response. Of course, "almost" was the operative word in this instance, as she could almost guess his reaction in the first place and knew that it would hover around amused before he decided to make a game of it and tease her - which made her very, very grateful she had relocated them.

Alegra stood up and walked over, standing in front of the vanity beside him as he went through her jewels. She got onto her tiptoes - the only way she could really reach the drawer, but the size of the dresser was needed to contain all of her stuff; she normally had a stepstool, but was not about to use that in front of him - and rummaged along side him until she came across an elegant gold chain with a large ruby and two small tanzanite stones on either side as the only decoration. She held it up, examining it, and then turned to him and held it up against his chest, declaring, "As I thought, completely your style." Was she teasing? Somewhat. She couldn't think of a reason why he would be looking through her stuff if not to steal it, in which case you'd think he'd have chosen several things by now. Her joking explanation in her mind was that he wanted to try it on for himself. "I think I have a pair of earrings that go with it, as well. The set would suit you very nicely."

He was playing her like a fiddle! How utterly obnoxious; Alegra was supposed to be the only one who could do that. Briefly, she wondered what Vaughn would do when her mother began hinting at marriage. How long did he intend to drag this out for? After all, eventually the woman would begin to wonder why he had not offered but remained a suitor; propriety only allowed for so much time. Perhaps at that point he would simply take a large sum of money and be done with her? It was the most likely option, Alegra supposed, though even then she could not decide just how likely it was.

She listened as he continued to spew nonsense, which, of course, engaged the older woman. "Yes," she responded enthusiastically, "you absolutely must! Why, I think I have one from when I was Alegra's very age, in fact. Indeed, just after I married her father..." She continued murmuring to herself, attempting to remember where she had placed it, when she looked back up as Vaughn began talking. Alegra's smile was, in truth, rueful, though it did not appear to be such. She didn't like the idea of his mouth on her skin any more now than she had earlier. Insufferable! Not to mention that he was almost playing the role a bit too well. Soon, her mother would be convinced he was a prince come to sweep her daughter away, just like in the old tales. After all, other men had been just as charming, but most of them had an elitist quality about them - one which Vaughn really did have, but was not showing.