Nothing is wrong. You decide to go through with it.

"Nothing… Nothing is wrong. I just… I think… I need..."

Noah is still looking at you, trying to make sense of your bearings. You take a deep breath, trying to calm down and to think for a second about your choices and the consequences. How would he react if you deny him?

"You need to rest, surely? It's been a long and exhausting day for you."

He's making it easy for you. Almost taking the decision for you. You don't even need to say anything, you just need to nod and let him go. But is it what you want?

No, it isn't. Yes, you are clearly emotionally unstable. But your body doesn't feel exhausted at all. Quite unlike the previous days, where your body reacted with different symptoms of strain and fatigue to the physical exertions you weren't used to, today has been different. In fact, the whole experience today has been quite exhilarating and exciting. You remember how just moments ago this culminated in your enjoyment of Noah's kisses and his touch. And even the thought of being **** by that swine Boris… while more than disturbing to the state of your mind, your body has a different memory and is more than clear about reminding you. Reminding you with unmistakable signs of arousal, like a warmth and wetness between your legs. Your body remembers the pleasure which according to your mind you were not supposed to have. Your body has the memory of experiencing an incredible energy. You want to feel that again. You want more.

"Stay!"

"Your Majesty?"

"Assist me to take this armor off."

"As you command, Your Majesty."

You stand up and Sir Noah comes closer again, until he stands right next to you. He begins to unfasten the various straps that keep the armor pieces in place. You take note that he clearly knows what he's doing, just like Akina this morning. And you guess this process will take a bit of time, giving you a few more moments to order your thoughts.

Part of you still wants to call this off. Thinking about what happened to you these last days. Your father and your brother were taken from you, killed by your own mother - who turned out to be a fiendish creature, an evil demon. Being robbed of the comforts of your royal home, **** to flee on the road, assaulted and kidnapped by bandits. And finally **** by their leader because you were helpless, too weak to resist him. After all of this you are an emotional wreck. You need time. Time to heal and recover. And Noah seems like a decent man. He would surely understand, wouldn't he? All you need to do is to tell him all that… Or you could start sobbing and he would take you into his strong arms to comfort you…

… and he would know that you are still a spoiled little princess. Moody, weak, unreliable. And Men talk. Soon enough the entire bandit camp would know. It would undermine your authority, which you know only hangs on a thread. That accidental show of a naked woman apparently with some unnatural powers killing their leader, standing fearless and strong in the face of an armed crowd. It created an image. A belief that you are extraordinary, capable of more. But if that image got turned into one of an frightened, scared little girl… No, that's not an option.

"We can take off the cuirass now. Lean forward and stretch out your arms."

"Like this?"

"Yes."

He grabs onto the material around the shoulders, trying to pull the armor over your head. Your shirt seems to cling to it, as it gets pulled over your head also, you can feel the sweat-soaked linen on your face. But Noah only gets halfway and the cuirass feels kind of stuck around your chest. The repeat attempts to pull it off cause friction against your engorged nipples, slightly painful, but somehow pleasant at the same time.

"It's really tight…" he observes.

"Yah, you tell me!"

"Wait a second. Stand firm. On the count of three. One… Two... Three!"

While you can feel him pulling with all his strength, you try your best and actually manage not to topple over.

With the tightness, constriction and pent up warmth of the armor lifted from your chest, it's quite the relief to be able to breath without any resistance. But you quickly realize, by the feeling of cooler air on your naked skin, that your shirt stuck to the armor and got pulled off with it. Of course your first instinct is to preserve your modesty, to cover your opulent breasts with your too small hands. But you realize quickly how pointless this is, given what you have decided to do. And given that the entire camp has seen you completely naked anyways. And you know what your course of action has to be.

Because one thing is clear. You're not a little girl anymore. You can't show any weakness. You cannot ever be weak again if you want even the faintest chance of survival. Not even to mention the utterly mad idea of reclaiming the throne, your birthright. And you cannot go back on your word now. You need these people here to trust you, to believe in you. The best way to do that right now is to persuade Noah. And currently there is only one way you can show him that you are true to your word and that you deserve his loyalty.

You let your arms drop to your side, setting free again the luscious white flesh of your ample breasts, which jiggle a bit but soon come to a rest high on your chest. Each slightly tear shaped orb is crowned by a juicy nipple, already hard, showing off your arousal. Strangely, and you don't know why, but now that you are half naked you begin to feel much more confident, while the bad feelings you had fade into the distant back of your mind.

You are in no way experienced. But looking at Noah's face, you recognize the lust and desire in his eyes. And a question. Most men are obsessed with breasts and you know that yours are quite a sight. Your maids told you so on several occasions. You only need to nod, signaling that it's okay, and he is soon all over them. Caressing them, fondling them, squeezing them carefully, while also licking over them and paying extra attention to your stiff nipples. And his thoroughness is rewarded by your continued moans. You are more than ready for him.

You interrupt and signal Noah to help you get out of your skin tight leather pants. And just like this morning it's quite some work - perhaps even slightly more so - to pull them over your hips and booty. You don't remember having ever so much trouble with your dresses at the royal court as with this set of protective armor. And every respectable noblewoman knows how much hassle it can be to put these elaborately designed dresses on - although of course they were custom tailored and you had several maids taking care of you. But never mind that. You're glad that you wore that armor today, because apart from that bruise on your wrist you have no noteworthy injuries. And you're also glad that Noah clearly didn't think that he needed any protection from you on your first day of training. Because you don't want to wait any longer and his regular clothes are now the only thing left in the way.