When she glanced at him, Alden's eyes tried to hone in on her face, but before he could distinguish any features, she was already looking away. And she was seeming to become unsettled by his presence.

Alden wasn't sure whether to take that a sign she was innocent, or if he should be even more suspicious of her.

Either way, he was starting to drive himself mad in his pursuit of the truth. He was absolutely determined that he knew this woman from some point in time, there just had to be enough of a difference in her appearance which made him struggle to recognize her.

It was as if a fog had been casted over his mind. Not having complete awareness in the situation... it was almost a necessity to him. It was like he was being deprived of water.

There had been something in that woman's smile, though. Even if her intent behind it was to look bashful, Alden swore he saw it before. Except, in his memory, it was mocking, directed towards him.

It was starting to shape up in his head. That pest of a thief, always with that smug grin on her face, hurling snide remarks his way. Could it be..?

As he considered the possibility, Alden knew a royal wedding would be right up her alley — and so was dressing up like a noblewoman to sneak in.

He tried to test his theory. "Before we leave, if I may, there's something about you that's awfully familiar," there was a bit of a sardonic bite in his tone. "I just know I've heard your voice somewhere, although I'm having trouble placing you. I'm much better at remembering faces."

Tove was becoming increasingly irritated with him. He was right to be suspicious, but what if she truly had been a nervous young woman intimidated by his presence? If she was truly someone soft and gentle, she'd probably be shedding tears, but unfortunately she couldn't summon those on the spot to catch him off guard. It would seem that her little ruse was up.

Sighing in exasperation, Tove dropped the sweet, meek attitude and took on the personality he knew her so well for— The sharp tongued theif who lived for creating trouble just for him. He knew who she was, he only sought confirmation in her face. There was no point in delaying the inevitable.

"Truly, Alden. I'm surprised it even took you this long to stitch things together," she tisked, her head lifting and cocking to the side as she narrowed those cold blue orbs upon him. Tove pushed a hand through her ebony locks, removing the curtain that had helped to hide her delicate features from him. "But I suppose I cannot blame you for favoring my face over my voice, dearest," she chuckled, that teasing, flirty lilt wrapping through her words.

She stayed a few feet from him, her gaze piercing into him as she anticipated whatever he'd do next. He'd try to capture her, no doubt, but she was more than ready to run. It would be a curious thing to see a supposed noble woman being chased by a knight, but then again, they were all alone for the time being.

"You're ruining my plans again," she pouted, her hands resting idly at her sides. She rarely ever drew weapons on the knight, but she wasn't sure how far he'd go to save the day on such an important day. "I don't suppose you'll just let me on my way?" She mused, grinning in the way he knew her for.

Alden wasn't shocked in the least when Tove revealed herself. He simply returned her gaze with equal intensity, his eyes narrowed.

It seemed as if he snapped back to reality as he shed his temporary role of detective, living in the present, ready to take action. He examined her from where he was standing. Alden had the distinct feeling she wouldn't back down, but neither would he.

He had to weigh the consequences of this situation and had to do it fast. Tove could easily play the frightened maiden being intimidated by the big, bad knight. He'd get in trouble before he could explain himself while she ran off with more jewels than she could handle.

There was another problem as well, he didn't know if Tove was armed or not. She could easily have a dagger hidden on her and he probably wouldn't find out until it was too late. It was true, she had never been violent as far as Alden was aware...

But this was an important heist. If Alden was in her shoes, he'd do anything to pull it off.

However, the most obvious issue is that she would try to flee. Like she always did. He was surprised Tove hadn't run off by now. She must've been especially determined to succeed at this job — Alden was even more determined to put a stop to her.

"You know I can't do that, Tove." He was tense, awaiting her every move, prepared to spring into motion. "And it would be wise of you not to try and escape... then again, when has that ever stopped you?"

Alden's jaw tensed, teeth clenched together at the words courtship ritual. The gall of her! He was convinced that Tove saw everything as a game, and other people were the foolish pawns.

He couldn't stand it, especially today of all days. Alden had lost each and every one of these back-and-forth battles, but this time, he was intent on winning the war.

Alden was poised for action, prepared to spring as if he were a coiled snake. If he failed now, would he be accused of sabotage? Would the royal family mistake this as an inside job?

He shook the weight of failure off his shoulders. Getting stuck in his head would only hinder him, and this wasn't the moment to lose focus. It was drilled into his head during training: keep your eyes on one goal, and follow it through 'til the very end.

When Tove swung forward, he threw his arms out in an attempt to grab her, but she quite literally was right out of his reach - she spun away at the last moment and went thundering down the grass lane.

In an instant, Alden was after her, a bloodhound on her trail. She was heading through the labrinyth that served as a passage between the courtyard and servant's quarters.

Tove had felt the air rush against her skin when Alden had tried to grab her, making her squeal with excitement as she began her escape. She could hear his thundering footsteps and the sound of his armor, making her remember just how fast he truly was. If there ever came a day he chased after without armor, she knew there'd hardly be a chase to even take place. She was swift, but admittedly he was just as well.

Tove navigated the maze with reckless abandon. She didn't know the ins and outs of it, honestly, she just had to get far enough away from Alden to hide. Though, given the way that those damned slippers on her feet kept tripping her up, she had no doubt that the knight was still hot on her trail. Growling with frustration as she lost one slipper on a patch of raised cobblestone, Tove ditched the other small shoe without stopping, leaving it in her wake like a bread crumb for him to follow. It wasn't ideal to be barefoot, but it was better than tripping and stumbling with each turn.

Thankfully there hadn't been any servants using the paths she took. They were probably all too busy preparing for the wedding, but it also made it harder for her to decide where to go. And then, as she cut one final corner, she didn't have anywhere to go. A dead end stared at her, the cobbled stones jutting out at random in some places. Up. She had to go up and pray she was high enough before her annoying knight caught up.

Tove didn't waste another second as she took to the stone wall, her fingers gripping the small ledges as she heaved herself upwards. The rough surface bit into her fingers and feet, but she ignored the scraping burn as she climbed, fighting occasionally with the skirt of her gown. She hated dresses. She hated them with a burning passion, but she hadn't expected her plan to fail so miserably so soon.

Alden stuck to her trail, or rather, what he assumed her trail was. Twisting, turning, one would've expected him to collide face-first into the wall at the speed he was going. Fortunately, he had the advantage of being familiar with the grounds.

He had to skid to a halt as he came upon two diverging paths. He knew he had to pick one, and if he chose wrong, that would guarantee he'd lose her. For good.

Alden stared ahead, eyes darting from one path to the other, as if looking would reveal the answer to him.

Come on, Alden! Think! What would she do?

But he knew that Tove was a stranger to this labrinyth, and most likely would've picked at random. Alden supposed he would have to as well, though it killed him to not be completely certain in his choice. As if he was leaping into a dark abyss, not knowing where he was going to land.

Taking in a deep gust of air, Alden started to go down the path that curled to the left. His eyes remained fixed ahead, searching, not even sparing a glance at the ground beneath.

That was, until he almost stumbled over something. He didn't even know what it was until he righted himself and turned around to investigate. A slipper.

His confidence renewed, he went farther onward, eventually finding the slipper's twin. He continued.

As he came to the end of the path, where a large stone wall kept anyone from progressing forward, he finally found her. Tove was in a battle with silk, hindered by her skirt as she attempted to scale the wall.

His lips split into a wide smile, followed by a barking chuckle. Alden couldn't help himself — he'd spent all this time, worried sick about what would happen if she got away; he needed a good laugh, and this seemed to do it for him.

He approached. His laughter had died down but lingered as giggles that interrupted him after every word he spoke. "Having... haha.. having a bit of trouble, are you?"

Tove always knew a dress would be her undoing. The silk, so pretty and luscious kept wrapping around her legs and getting stuck under her bare feet each time she tried to climb higher. She'd manage to climb up one step, only to slip down by two when her feet slipped. It was embarrassing! She was an amazing climber, and she couldn't even make it half way up the wall.

Then she heard laughter, making her jolt with surprise as she lost her grip again, sliding back down the stonewall. It bit and scraped at her skin, but she didn't seem to care much even as a hint of red blossomed from the open scrapes. Her cheeks were just as red from how she blushed, her lips pursing with discontent as she turned to face Alden, who was much too pleased about her difficulty with climbing.

She couldn't believe she'd looked like such a fool in front of him of all people. There she was, dressed out of her element along with no shoes, her hair in her face, while standing in front of something she should have scaled with no issue. She had no other option for escape. And even worse, he was laughing at her.

Without much thinking, Tove stomped forward, her brows drawing in as a pout carved deeper at her delicate features. "Do not laugh!" She huffed, poking at his armor clad chest as she forgot that distance was the goal, not close proximity. "I'd like to see you climb such a wall with silk slipping and sliding beneath your feet!" She fussed at him, her head tipped back to look him in the eye. Of all things, she couldn't stand him laughing at her when she already felt so vulnerable and defeated. The day had gone horribly, and she wasn't even sure it could be fixed at that point!

No, all she could do was push and poke uselessly at his chest and express her displeasure to him with rosy red cheeks. She didn't want to resort to violence either, even though she still had her knives. Theft was one matter, assault with a deadly weapon was very much so another.