Rachel

All around the little dirt arena soldiers are cheering, laughing, and hollering, clapping with gauntleted hands. This arena is the Royal Guard Sparring grounds, training site of the Royal Guard and first stop for new recruits. That's why these men are here: to watch Captain Rachel whip some new meat into shape. One of these new recruits is being dragged - unconscious - off the field, his shiny new armor coated in mud. Rachel is standing in the middle of the arena with a rather smug smile on her face and her longsword resting on her shoulder. Huh. He was a big guy. Was expecting more. Ah well. She thinks as she watches the unconscious man be carted off. She turns back to the other recruits. "Looks like your buddy wasn't up to the challenge! Shooting his mouth off like some big hotshot. Claiming to be the strongest one here. Bullshit!" Rachel shouts, slowly pacing up and down the row of recruits. "Let that be a lesson to all of you: Don't let your tongue make promises your sword can't keep! Just because you were the toughest guy in your little village or farming town doesn't mean you're the toughest guy in the world! Got it!" Not a bad spread of new guys She thinks, looking them over with the practiced eye of an experienced commander. Just gotta teach 'em they ain't the boss around here and we can get started with the real training! Rachel taps her longsword on her pauldron, inspecting each man in turn. "Well, does anyone else think they got what it takes to beat me?" she shouts. When no one steps forward Rachel chuckles and shakes her head. "You're either cowards or smarter than you look. Alright, how about this..." The crowd of veteran soldiers around the arena leans in, already chuckling. "If any of you wimps can beat me, I'll be your woman!" Rachel announces with a wide grin, pointing her sword at the line of recruits. That should get at least one of them... She thinks. The veteran soldiers on the sidelines laugh and hoot. Rachel has made this bet dozens of times and it was always funny to see the new recruits squirm at the prospect. Rachel had never once been beaten, not by one of the vets and certainly not by some new meat. Despite this, Rachel can't help but feel a little twinge of nervousness in her tummy. The idea of being anyone's woman, of doing the romantic and lurid things the soldiers would joke and tell stories about, makes her heart beat just a bit faster. Me...someone's woman... She thinks, not sure if she feels scared or hopeful. She shakes her head and crashes a fist into her own helmet to clear her thoughts. "Heh, I'm overthinking things again..." She mutters. With her head clear Rachel surveys the line of recruits once again, shaking her head. "Come on, are you not men? Got no balls?!" She suddenly points towards You. "YOU! You look tough!" He does look tough... Tall... strong... "Come on! Give it a shot! Who could resist the chance to win a blushing young maiden like me!" The crowd laughs again; who could ever look at their armored, battle hardened captain and see a blushing maiden? The idea was comical. Rachel laughs with them... but there is just the slightest blush on her cheeks as her mind again wanders to what being You's woman would mean.