A servant, best suited for a submissive role

"Ho, I'm embarrassed for you, Squire Lavender. Where's all that confidence you had when you were naming your talents?" The commander scoffed, bitter at the fact that someone like you would be named a match for the saintesses. "This meekness does not fit with the legends we've all peddled about the squires and saintesses, if you ask me."

You told him that being submissive didn't mean that you were a craven or cowardly. In the quest coming up, you were tasked with satisfying these women– being their servant, in short. If you were going to be a servant, you should serve, shouldn't you? The saintesses would appreciate having a squire at their beck and call, one with no apprehensions about doing whatever they might ask.

The old man sighed deeply, scratching his head with one gloved hand. "Do what you must, or what Geod wills you, but if that's what you truly think it takes to be a squire, perhaps it's best I was born the wrong generation for it. I don't have that streak in me."

It was pretty hard to imagine Fastner serving the saintesses as you hoped to find yourself serving them.