Merame froze when Yifa came over to her and did the exact same thing her father had done.  Yifa would definitely like what she felt.  Her bottom, while round and definitely womanly, was pert and firm, befitting her athletic character as a soldier.  It was so much so that she could have bounced a silver dinar off it.  Equally with her breasts...they were round and full and quite fat in nature.  This was a body that would, if she had been born into the Icewalkers, been protected once it bloomed, the promise of excellent mothering overriding anything else that she might have done.<br/><br/>"E-every?"  Merame was starting to understand this position.  It wasn't just a bodyguard, though it sounded like there was an emphasis on that - she was a servant, supposed to do whatever the Icewalker asked of her.  The fact that she wasn't legally a slave and wasn't allowed to be abused was good news to her, but it sounded like she was going to be the woman's plaything, too.  Which is when what Yifa was saying finally managed to catch up to her.<br/><br/>"L-lovely...?"  This was not a term Yifa had heard used to describe herself.  Talented, driven, determined, certainly, but... "I-I'm<em>lovely</em>...?"  That...that was not a term for a soldier!  It was one meant for the women in the courtesan's houses, ones who did wooing and dancing and such things, not women who did fighting and spilling blood and what she did for a living.