Peter was riding horseback on a beautiful grey stallion who was as excellently groomed as it's owner. The weather was cooling in the autumna weather and Peter already missed the summer months. He wore a black cloak over his suit and leather gloves, tipping his hat to any people he passed by as he road. The orange and red leaves fell from the trees on either side of the road. It was really was a perfect fall day, though Peter wasn't looking forward to the snowy winter months.

What he hadn't expected was when the carriage in front of him suddenly started to shake and then tumble as one of the wheels fell off. His heart jumped in surprise and he hurried to catch up, leaping gracefully off his horse as he pulled it to a stop just behind the broken carriage as a woman stepped out. "Is everyone alright?" he asked, moving to the woman's side and looking around at the driver and anyone else around. He hasn't realized that the lady had just asked the same question.

Alaric's brow scrunched as the driver was about to say something else before he said that it was a child that had crossed their path. He had an idea what he'd been about to say and wasn't pleased by it but didn't bring it up. He was relieved to hear that everyone was okay at least.

He smiled as the pretty woman spoke to him. "Oh I'm sure I don't know as much as this fine professional," he said, motioning to the driver. "But I'm fairly handy and could at least provide that extra stability by having another to help." He moved towards the wheel that had fallen off and was lying on the road and crouched down to take a look at it. He frowned when he saw a large crack. "Unfortunately, it looks like the wheel itself is broken. It wouldn't be good to put this one back on the carriage. You'll need to get it replaced or repaired first." He looked over at the driver and then back to the young woman. "I could give you a ride to wherever you were going while your man here gets this fixed," he offered with a kind smile.

Peter waved off her worry with his hand and smiled. "Nothing would be a better use of my time than helping a lady in need, I assure you," he said with a little bow at his waist. "My name is Peter Kingsley, my lady. Please tell me who I have the honor of meeting and allow me to assist you." His eyes sparkled with sincerity, just glad to be here and be of use to her.

To say she was not a lady in this society usually meant that someone was claiming to not have noble blood. But it was obvious in her attire and demeanor that this woman was no commoner so yes, she was in fact a lady. Yet to turn away from the idea of someone using that as a title made him more curious about her. Not a lot of humble nobles in Loren, that was for sure. "Well, just Annabeth, it's my absolute pleasure to make your acquaintance."

He glanced to the stallion standing not far behind them and then back to her. "Please allow me to give you a ride. I'll even walk while you ride if you prefer though it would be faster if we both rode."

Peter's gaze was soft and curious as he watched her consider her options before choosing to trust him. It made his belly feel warm and a little thrill for having successfully convinced her to join him. "Well I can assure you that your faith won't be misplaced," he said charmingly. "Let me help you up," he stood by the shoulder of the stallion and offered his hand so that she could climb into the saddle first. "Hop on and sit close to the front and I'll just slide in behind you. Easy peasy," he said with a little wink and a smile.

She was soon atop the horse and Peter gazed up at her, momentarily losing all the breath in his lungs at the sight of her above him. Her sharp jaw and breathtaking features looked even more dazzlingly when she was lording over him, if only in height. Goodness, she was stunning. He didn't stare for long but had to visibly shake himself from his stupor before he climbed on behind her. As it was a saddle made for one, the only possible result was that they were sitting very close though he tried to be polite and not press his hips into her, attempting to find the smallest amount of distance between them as he took the reins and nudged the horse into a walk to head into town.

"So," he said, making conversation, "you said you were getting fabric. What for?"

Her answer made Peter feel a bit bad for asking but it didn't stop him from continuing. He wasn't the type to back away from challenging conversations. "I'm sorry to hear that. Did her father pass or just not in the picture?" he asked. Not that 'just' was a valid way to explain that kind of loss, only that it was less tragic to death. "How old is she?" he continued.