With one swift strike, the wooden sword is knocked from your hand, clattering to the ground nearby. The armor of your opponent gleams as they take position for another strike, their face, hidden under their steel helmet, is impossible to read. They do not hesitate, giving you no free moment to dive for the only weapon you had. You never even stood a chance. You can only watch as your heavily armored opponent raises their blade for the final blow, then brings it down in a powerful chop.
The blade--also wooden--stops short and hits you on the head with a small bonk.
"I win again," your opponent says. With a sigh, she lifts the helmet off her head, and you can see Celine's face again as she shakes her hair out of her eyes. Her straw-colored bangs stick to her forehead, wet with sweat. "You have to stop opening yourself up. Otherwise..." She gently pokes you in the stomach with her training sword. "...Easy target."
"Yeah... I know," you say. Celine had somehow talked you into joining her as a knight, and had taken it upon herself to be your personal mentor. Sure, she wasn't much older than you, but she certainly had more experience. And while there was something comforting about having someone you knew teach you how to fight like this, you were finding it hard to focus.
Celine wipes her brow with her gauntlet. "Well, I think that's enough training for today. We'll go back to the barracks so I can change out of this," she says, slapping her ironclad thighs.
"Okay," you agree, hefting your own practice sword. As Celine goes to rack hers, you look over. "So... What are we doing tomorrow?"
"Oh, nothing," she says dismissively. "Tomorrow's free. Master Claude's giving everyone an opportunity to enjoy the festival tomorrow."
"Really? That sounds nice," you say. Maybe some relaxation would be just what you need.
"It is," Celine replies, "So we can rest up all we want tonight before going to the festival. You're going to go with me, right?"
"I--"
She reaches down and grabs your wrist before you have time to protest. Before you have a chance to pull away, she pulls you into an embrace against her armored breast. Her breathing is still a little heavy, and a damp heat comes off her sweat-slicked skin. Her armor is cold and solid, but her touch is warm and soft and inviting. She raises her eyebrows and looks down at you in her arms, giving you a playful smile.
"Right?"
"Ah, yes, um, sure," you say, your voice cracking slightly with nervousness.
Celine laughs softly and presses her lips to yours, kissing you with surprising passion. Your heart races and your breath catches in your throat, and for a moment, you forget to move or speak. Then Celine breaks the kiss and steps back, laughing and shaking her head.
"Well, guess we should get to bed early if we're gonna make it to the festival in the morning," she says, then gives your shoulder a friendly shove.