[They reach the cover of the trees safely, but Alaric only stops once they're further in. He leans back against a tree as he catches his breath, and his grip remains tight on Blanche. She stirs and speaks, and maybe were the situation different, he's respond with something sarcastic.]

I'm fine. [It's tight, terse.] What the hell were you thinking?

[Now isn't the time to question her on that. He knows that. They can't just stay here and hope the storm will let up - and more importantly, she's injured. He doesn't have any medical supplies (a stupid oversight, really) and he doesn't know a damn thing about magic.]

You're the damn queen. You can't go throwing yourself into danger like this. I'm just a—

[—just a low-born knight who happened to catch the attention of the princess. The nerve of him, strutting around like he belongs.]

Knights can be replaced. Queens can't.