It would be unfair to criticize the young world for going soft when the evidence in every other aspect of life was that it hadn't. Things like this made it difficult, though. Time was that you kept the beautiful maidens you didn't want being carried over the horizon safe by building walls to hold them and keeping stout warriors with spears ready to hand nearby, so that the only avenue to managing the act was a surprise attack by night and by sea. It was unheard of to find someone [i]this[/i] desirable, a treasure of a foreign royal court no less, just... standing in the middle of nowhere? 

But then, the way Angelesia had described it this type of thing must be very common indeed. Certainly it was possible that there were more clever traps than her scans of the landscape had noticed on approach. Or just as likely this Princess was unbothered by the possibility that her jewel would be stolen. There were, after all, systems in place for its retrieval. One could hardly blame a lion for assuming it was invincible. 

Saber appears over the hilltop in an eye blink. She moves faster than any man or animal. Faster even than she had when she carried Diaofei on their hunt, or away from Bohemond's first assault. It's easier without her armor. It's even easier with the trickles of mana flowing in from the plants and the air around her into her legs. Where she steps, grass withers and insects drop. The winds turn stagnant. And Saber moves faster. 

She pounces like an animal from atop a cliff, though she comes from the low ground initially. An elbow flashes into Fallweaver's stomach, to drive the air she needs for spellcasting from her lungs. She clamps a hand around her mouth, to keep the sounds that would alert any hidden guards in this singular moment of vulnerability. With her other hand she plucks the little black cat by the scruff to keep [i]it[/i] from setting anything off or rallying a response. Familiars are not to be underestimated; no obvious openings to be exploited. She was asked to do a job in exchange for payment, and she would deliver on her end. It is the spark that will allow her to cash in regardless of what happens next. 

The next moment she is turned and leaving, tossing Fallweaver over one shoulder and bounding on two legs and one arm, not the way she came directly but to a point she can triangulate her destination. More importantly she is moving deeper into woods, where it will be easiest for her to use hill and tree to fight off the inevitable response. But in the meantime if this Princess' troops wish to engage her and learn the ways they will first have to prove that they can catch her. 

"Be honored," she offers in reassurance, "Though you are at best a tertiary objective in a conflict you are as yet ignorant of, in better times I would have captured you for the simple pleasure of your company. You are a treasure worthy of my best efforts."