It’s easier than she ever imagined to get him to leave with her. He doesn’t spare a single thought to why she might be here on the tail of her father, come to apply a soft touch where violence failed. Instead, he acts as if she is in danger, acts as if he cares. Tells her that she shouldn’t be here, as if she ever listens to reason. Arsinoe shrugs, a flirty dismissal of his warning and extends her muzzle in greeting.

Perhaps it is just her pride getting in the way, but she can’t see these Lagoon bachelors as much of a threat to her safety. They’re all talk, really, hoarding mares with nowhere else to go but never actually threatening united herds. And it isn’t even that she wants Vadim for the sake of possessing him; while the whole thing started with her casually mentioning her irritation that he’s not done his fatherly duty, it has escalated to this point because she needs to show her worth. She needs to win the trophy that her father could not, and return triumphant to the Badlands.

“A swim,” she agrees to his incredulous question. Step by step Vadim follows her, out of the shelter of the heavy-hanging, green trees above them and towards the beach. She’s so close she can taste it, success where her father failed. Blood to rear her precious Cynisca, another invested guard for the child. And selfishly…well, Arsinoe wants to build a herd and support of her own. With all the changes on Salem, all of the unrest, she hates the idea of riding only on her father’s loyalty, having no support or allies anywhere on the desert island. If something did happen, Vadim is a capable fighter and she’d like to have him nearby and loyal to her.

They reach the cool ocean, and she leads them into the waves, tossing a grin over her shoulder at the stallion behind. The second his feet leave the safety of the Lagoon and touch the ocean, Arsinoe has to bite back a triumphant yell. He’s hers - he’s left with her, and she didn’t even have to make him bleed for it.

“If I didn’t know better,” she teases him, voice breathless with excitement and nerves, “I’d think you’re a ghost you’re so silent back there.” She urges them on, legs eating through the salt water with the shores of the Badlands right on the horizon. “Maybe you’re realizing you just can’t keep up with me.” One more push - Arsinoe is sure he just needs the barest pressure. After all, she’d had Cynisca after snapping at him, challenging him and inciting that thrilling male pride. “Bet you I’ll make land first - winner gets whatever they want?”
Regardless of if he outpaces her, Arsinoe is the winner here. The second he reaches Badlands sand, he’s hers.