957e3 No.17526[View All]
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As a sort of "spin-off" on the main story of Impregnator Kings, I began work on Impregnated Princess, a 'what if Edward had been born female' story.
Impregnator Kings stars Sir Edward as he fulfills his life goal to become a King and impregnate as many women as he can along the way. The story as we know took the direction of him marrying Crown Princess Tharja and becoming King of Ruhemania already.
Impregnated Princess stars Edwys, a female version of Edward who has been raised to be a perfect wife and aspires to birth many, many children with her husband, chosen for her by her father.
The story began with Princess Edwys already in Ruhemania, married to her husband Crown Prince Tharja. It continued on bbw-chan for a while but I had not yet moved it back to pregchan because I had not updated it… until now.
Here are some basic premises of Impregnated Princess, relative to Impregnator Kings:
1. The main change is Edward in this story is born female and Tharja is born male. They've had different lives and experiences but they're still on some level similar to how they are in Impregnator Kings. It's appropriate to think of this story as 'light-TG' in this case. (That is, the characters were born different genders, there is no in-story transformation.)
2. In Impregnator Kings I try to put focus on images for the females Edward interacts with. In Impregnated Princess I try to give images exclusively of Edwys herself. However, this means that I have a set 'look' for Edwys and I just use random images from anywhere, so there may be little discrepancies picture to picture.
3. Besides Edward and Tharja, other characters may have been born with their genders-switched too. Others have not. I won't say exactly who.
4. In world is overall fundamentally the same. Interpret that as you will.
5. Impregnated Princess is only updated in 'downtime' between updates on Impregnator Kings. Impregnator Kings will always be the focus. Updates may be a little less frequent, and time may be skipped more between choices.
If you're intrigued, please read on. I will give updates for the entire story as was written up until now. If you still wish to read the original thread on bbw-chan, it is over here: http://bbw-chan.net/elite/res/1245.html
I have created a link to a chat thread too. It is here: http://pregchan.com/c/res/4467.html
"Mm… wake up, my love," you hear a voice.
You turn in its direction and blink back your blurred vision at Tharja's figure.
You feel a hand stroke your soft cheek.
"I thought I'd visit you first thing this morning… we need to have a child soon, don't we?"
You certainly do.
"Mm… if you don't hurry up and get pregnant for me… it might hurt the Kingdom," says Tharja.
Yes… that's right.
You certainly couldn't forget that.
You look up at your husband's smiling face.
He's freshly shaved and his young masculine features come together in a way that sends a tingle down between your legs.
He reaches down and brings your delicate hand to his lips, kissing you softly, gentlemanly.
"May I have the honor of joining you in bed, my wife?" he asks, voice suave.
… Of course he can.
You don't need to speak.
You simply lift up the covers, exposing your sheer night clothes and undergarments.
You watch Tharja's face ignite with lust, and he starts unbuttoning his tunic.
Knowing the sight of your body can excite him like this just makes you love him all the more.
It's too much for you to bear.
Your husband being so close, yet so far away is more than your little heart can bear.
You take off your robe, letting it fall to the floor.
You follow up by stepping out of your slippers, sliding gently into the bed.
His scent surrounds you, penetrating your senses with its masculine scent.
This is where he sleeps…
You can't help but make out a satisfied little mewl as you curl up on the bedding, wrapping the sheets around your naked body.
You lie there motionless for several minutes, but…
Your ladybits are still tingling.
They won't stop.
You contemplate your hand.
It was… a sin… to pleasure oneself…
Were to Tharja to come back, you would merely be preparing yourself to fulfill your wifely duties for him.
That would make it all right… wouldn't it?
You bite your lip in contemplation…
By now you're no longer still, but squirming your legs and hips under the covers.
Yes… you were preparing yourself for Tharja…
And if you end up sinning for that…
Well, you've already committed a sin by contemplating it.
You shut your eyes, focusing on the smell of Tharja's scent and the softness of the sheets.
Then, you slowly lower your hand to your crotch…
You let out a shudder as your fingers touch yourself.
You're already getting wet…
It is truly a shame Tharja isn't here.
You would be able to provide him a fine penetration.
You rock yourself in bed, holding your hand still as you move your hips.
Yes, that's how you'll do it. It'll train you to actively help Tharja release his seed.
Your fingers rub up and down your feminine slit, providing you some very desire friction.
If only it were Tharja's cock…
You reach your other hand down and use two fingers to spread your labial lips a little more.
To stroke more than the bare outer-side of your lips, to reach the more sensitive inner labia.
You curl your knees a little more as you slide your pussy against your hand.
You're definitely leaking now, you can feel it coating your hand.
You dare to press on, rubbing yourself harder, and you can feel the hood of your clitoris…
The center and symbol of your femininity.
The hood is retracted a bit, your clit poking itself out from its hiding place, just a little.
You chance to rub it against the edge of your fingertips and let out a moan.
Of course, it wouldn't do to penetrate your opening by yourself.
That was reserved for your husband.
But this was very pleasant… yes, in fact it's very pleasant.
Your soft thighs close around your hand as you find a perfect place to rub yourself against.
With your hips making little rocking motions, you stroke yourself to deeper and deeper depths of pleasure.
Until the sounds of you rubbing your skin would be clearly audible if anyone else was in the room.
Ah… you really are… sinful…
But you can't stop.
You're getting too close.
Your clit isn't just puffy, it's hard and erect.
Your lips aren't just moist, they're swollen and wet.
All you can do is hope for Tharja to come in right now… to offer to fill you with his essence and make you his.
Your breathing becomes panting, your rocking hips becomes a full-body dance of lust.
Your chest is heaving, rising and falling with the shallow breaths you take.
Tears cloud your eyes and your face burns hot and red, along with the warmth between your legs.
You're so close!!
You bite your lower lip until you feel your jaw muscles ache.
You stop holding your hand still and openly rub it against your clit as hard as you can without it being uncomfortable.
You're so close to be satisfied… you can't stop now.
You try to hold in your cries, but little whines still manage to slip out.
Finally you feel your orgasm approaching.
Your palm grinds your pubic mound as you desperately try to get more contact.
You can feel it… your clitoris igniting under the heat of your hand and fingers.
It's building to a spark that will give you the release you so desperately seek… and need.
Aah.. aah… aah… mmm!!
You remember at the last moment to muffle yourself as your mind goes blank. The pleasure from your rubbing reaching its peak.
You can feel your toes curl against the bedding as ecstasy spreads throughout your body, from your crotch to your thighs, chest, and all the rest.
You arch your back against the bed as the spasms take control of your body, making you flex and tighten your feminine little muscles…
Aah… hah… haaah…
Your pants fill the room as you lie on your back, hair somewhat tangled behind you, but that's fine.
You spread your legs out in victory as your pussy finishes contracting… as if to milk a cock for its seed that isn't there.
A few more seconds and the intensity of the pleasure fades.
Leaving you with… loneliness.
Tharja isn't here… and… you just pleasured yourself, knowing he wasn't here.
You're a… terrible girl.
You huddle yourself under the covers, regretful of indulging your lust.
You can only hope no one learns of this shame.
…Yes, you must confess this and take the penance the Priest gives you.
You'll feel embarrassed to the extreme admitting your deed to him, but… perhaps then you can salvage some redemption.
You continue to lie waiting for Tharja.
Even if you were to give up on him returning, you don't want to risk exerting your muscles standing up and walking back after all that… exercise.
It's not long before you're simply too comfortable and you fall asleep.
>No choice yet. Further update coming soon.
You lie there in the quiet darkness of Tharja's room.
The candle you brought has long burned itself out. Some time must have passed.
You actually are confused as to the time and whether it's appropriate to get up.
You wonder how Tharja manages to sleep with a room like this.
… But then, that means he never came back?
Or perhaps he saw you sleeping in his bed, and decided not to disturb you?
You're pondering over those possibilities in your mind when you hear footsteps from out in the hall.
Your heart pounds in your chest as excitement overtakes you.
Tharja was finally coming back!
No, there was definitely more than one pair of footsteps.
Before you can think of anything more, the door bursts open.
You shriek as you realize it's castle guards, carrying torches.
You aren't dressed, you yell!
There's a bit of awkwardness where the guards have to avert your eyes, but hand you your discarded robe.
They explain it's well past morning, and it was discovered you weren't in your bedroom.
The entire castle was locked down to search for you.
… Oh dear.
The entire castle?
You aren't sure if you should take them seriously, but then you're led outside the halls leading to Tharja's room into the regular castle and you get the impression it must be true.
There aren't nearly as many maids bustling around, and the castle feels queer because of the absence.
At least there's no one to see you looking borderline indecent as you're lead to…
The throne room?
Your stomach quivers.
Was the King waiting to punish you there?
The soldiers 'escorting' you exchange some sort of weird gesture and a few words about having located you.
You don't want to go in the throne room and face the King…
The emotions are simply too much. You start to cry.
It doesn't matter, the door is opened and you're ushered inside.
You take one glance and realize there's no one else there.
One of the guards tells you that you must wait there, do not try to leave.
The doors to the room shut, keeping you inside with no one to watch you.
Were they thinking up a punishment?
Time passes, in which you can do little more than stand, awkwardly.
It's beginning to hurt your feet to stand in one place, so you pace a little…
The only place to sit is on the King's throne, and you would never dare.
You feel rather miserable.
You almost want to knock on the door and beg for at least… a cushion.
Before you can gather up your nerve, the door opens.
It's Daniella, flanked by guards holding the door open.
They allow her inside and then shut the door behind her.
She gives you a straightforward bow, the kind a servant might use if they were in a hurry and needed to do something but still had to show their courtesies.
…She looks perfectly well-dressed, as always.
"Your Highness," she starts to say. Her tone is soft, and not the harsh, judgemental rebuke you were expecting.
"Your Highness, would you please explain what happened last night?" she asks.
You think you understand.
Daniella… was interrogating you.
No question about it. What you told her would definitely be repeated… if not directly to the King, then at least whatever soldiers had to organize whatever the castle went through to find you.
… Yes, they think you'll confess more easily to a feminine ear.
You break out into another sob.
Despite your noble background, and even that you're royalty, you feel less than Daniella at that moment.
You beg her pardon and ask for a moment to compose yourself.
She waits, and you finally start speaking.
You were lonely and couldn't sleep. You wanted the companionship of your husband… so you took your candle and sought it out.
Tharja wasn't in his bed, but…
It's… indecent to have to say out loud what your intentions were.
Even if Tharja is your husband, it reflected your lustful thoughts.
Daniella notices your hesitation.
She makes a little sound of a sigh.
You aren't sure if she's impatient, judging you, or possibly sympathetic.
"You were seeking… sexual… satisfaction?"
You can feel your face light up in a blush.
It's enough it must extend all the way to your toes.
You… you have to answer her.
You can't just leave it at that.
But what were you really wanting… and what would she believe?
She's not a Priest or even a nun. What you say is likely going to be repeated, but…
Perhaps she would understand, as a woman to a woman?
You realize you're holding your hands to your cheeks, and slowly let go, before speaking your answer.
>You wanted Tharja's attention. You just wanted to see him… Why wasn't he there?
>Confess to having a sexual… craving. Blame your pregnancy if you have to.
No need to admit to being lewd. Option one, we wanted Tharja's attention.
Option 1 feels more like what Edwys would say, especially since she doesn't know about Daniella being a witch hunter.
We're ladylike, so option 1 and they can take it as they will.
Edwys and Tharja are married. Even in a medieval setting, sexuality within a marriage is absolutely okay and nothing the be ashamed of. She doesn't need to admit to masturbating, but missing intimacy with her husband is surely nothing anyone can hold against her.
Option one is very much the only way to go here. Plus, when Tharja hears, he'll probably be more attentive and visit more, so Win-Win.
>6 votes for option one, you wanted to see Tharja.
>1 vote for option two, you wanted sexual satisfaction more than anything.
Emphasize your desire for your husband.
You… wanted Tharja…
More than anything.
If he had sent you back to your room without so much as a caress, you could have dealt with that.
Instead, he wasn't there, and you decided to keep his bed warm for him in hopes he'd return.
Then… yes, you became overwhelmed with his smell.
You, very quietly, confess the other details of last night to Daniella, including your… sin.
It shames you to think about, let alone speak out loud, but it's better than Daniella possibly thinking you were meeting some lover in your husband's bed, of all things.
She listens, not interrupting, then… you have nothing left to explain.
Why wasn't Tharja in his own bed?
Was he away?
… You know it's selfish, but your heart… wanted your husband.
Is that wrong, you ask?
Daniella flinches with the smallest hint of a sad frown.
"It's not wrong, Your Highness."
Her words help you calm down and your panic subsides.
…You were sorry for causing a fuss.
But you never thought it would turn in to this.
Daniella nods, eyes downcast.
"Thank you for explaining the situation to me, Your Highness."
Daniella starts to turn to leave.
What are you to do now? Are you to wait?
Daniella turns back.
"Not at all. You are free to return to your room."
You're tired of walking around undressed. It's long past an acceptable time to wear such things.
You thank Daniella… you thought you would be facing the King.
… You're careful to call him His Majesty in front of Daniella.
Daniella shakes her head.
"His Majesty, King Vlad, has more important matters to commit himself to, Your Highness."
You can't help but let out a startled little squeak.
It's a relief when the doors open and the soldiers allow you and Daniella to pass.
You can barely look at them before scurrying away.
You can only hope they'll forget about you, but you know better.
You'll be the object of their gossip for some time.
The thought is enough to almost make you start sobbing again.
Daniella isn't with you, she walks in a different direction leaving you alone.
You return to your room to find two maids waiting to help you get dressed.
You're still feeling mortified, but they don't mention anything about not finding you in your bed when you awoke.
Hopefully no one knows beyond the maids and the guards who were looking for you.
>No choice yet. Further update coming soon.
After getting dressed, it's time for your breakfast. The maids escort you to the room and you can't help but feel like you're being watched, now.
Of course you sit down alone to an empty table.
It's a tiresome affair and you poke and play with your food like a child.
You can't help feeling sorry for yourself. At the same time, you feel sorry that you're feeling sorry for yourself.
It's only when you remember you must take care of yourself for the child inside you as well that you finally find the strength to eat. It's a slow, cumbersome affair.
You're a few bites in to your plate of cooked eggs and berries when the hinges of the door squeak and it begins to push open.
You've eaten enough to know the maids never interrupt meals.
You actually feel a tinge of fear before you see…
…Tharja's face emerging behind the door.
He gives you a pleasant smile.
"Edwys, my dear… how are you holding up?"
You can't help but blush, recalling the events that started your day for you.
It's… been an interesting morning, you finally reply.
Tharja's not alone, a maid comes in behind him and carries a plate of food for him. She sets it down in front of him at the table before excusing herself, the door shutting behind her.
"Apologies for just arriving now, my dear wife. Were you missing me?"
It went without saying, so you just nod, demurely.
You watch him take up his fork and cut at a bit of egg. He nods back.
"Me as well… it's unfortunate the King has tasked me with… certain obligations recently."
This is too good to be true. You know Tharja must be here because of what happened today.
He finishes swallowing the bite of egg he took.
"I'm very sorry, Edwys. There would be times the King would require me to be away, day or even night… and I may have to leave the castle."
Yes, you say.
You remember him explaining that.
You leave out that you were suspicious it came so soon after you revealed you were pregnant.
But, you can't help but add, Tharja did give you permission to enter his quarters at any time.
His expression turns into a mischievous grin.
"I did appreciate you taking advantage of that."
… You should feel happier about Tharja's comment, but you can't.
He's being kind and not specifically raising the subject of your sin, but you know that's the purpose of this conversation.
You mustn't argue… you mustn't be contentious… you had to be a perfect wife, like your father had made sure you were raised to be.
But the question looms over your head… what sort of obligation from the King requires Tharja not sleep in his own bed at night?
… No, you won't think of Tharja as a liar. Neither will you ask and imply it.
There must be some reason. It is all right if you don't know.
–And if it was just an opportunity for Tharja to spread his seed…
You needed to accept that. It would be wrong, even as his wife, to confront him about his… urges. And you certainly don't want to ask about it and risk hearing an answer.
You hadn't realized it, but you'd screwed your eyes shut in your emotions.
You feign a light laugh and make an excuse that you were just… embarrassed at recalling being so selfish.
Tharja leans forward, reaching his hand across the table.
"You can be selfish, Edwys."
You look up into Tharja's eyes and see only kindness there.
You reach out and let him take your hand.
Your vision blurs as you blink away tears.
Thank you… thank you so much!
Your mood clears and you finally feel at peace with your emotions.
You want to just embrace him right now!
He gives your soft fingers a little rub, and then lets go.
His hands feel rougher than you remember…
Well, whatever. He was likely busy with some masculine activity.
You smile and finally point out your dress is newly embroidered with jewels to make you look more regal, and does he like it?
Before long you're talking and catching up and eating your meal together.
It doesn't end there, Tharja invites you for a walk around the castle. He wants to see the new garden being built. You happily agree.
Unfortunately, you don't end up admiring the garden so much as each other.
Tharja holds your hand and whispers you are the prettiest flower in the castle.
Your head is full of romantic little nothings by the time the sun reaches midday.
After you share another lunch, Tharja invite you back to his room saying he wants to spend time being even more intimate.
It's the perfect finish to your day together.
But it also reminds you of how you woke up this morning, which you'd been able to forget until then.
Twice in consecutive nights? You'll surely get a reputation of being some shameless sex-starved… beast.
…But you dare not turn him down.
You can only nod demurely as Tharja wraps his arms around your waist and places his hand on your rump.
Your heart is pounding and your ladybits are tingling as he leads you back to his wing.
You hope your dress is easy to iron. You don't have the nerve to tell Tharja you need to hang it up properly.
It's surely going to be left in a crumpled heap on his floor before too long.
>No choice yet, further update coming soon.
You step lightly down the hallway to Tharja's room. Tharja gallantly leads the way with a torch.
You're thankful he's here to carry it. You always become frightened when you must be around flame bigger than a candle.
You can't help but worry it will somehow catch your long hair alight and the fire would engulf you like lightning striking a tree. You aren't sure if that's a reasonable fear to have, but you can't deny the terror it makes you feel. The very thought makes you shiver from head to toe.
Tharja pushes open the door to his room, stepping inside with you.
He places the torch on its holder and immediately embraces you.
Strong arms wrap around your body, strong hands find your curves.
His warm lips press against yours as he claims what's his. Of course, you offer it freely. And after all the attention you've received from him today… you desire it. You need it so much.
Tharja teases your lips with his tongue and you part them for him, he wastes no time invading your mouth with his red muscle. It's all you can do to tilt your head back as you're overcome with the sensation. You do your best to coil your own around him.
You let out a gasp, breaking the kiss for air, as you feel Tharja's hand grope your sensitive breast. You murmur a soft protest, reminding him your breasts feel sore.
"Mm… my apologies, Edwys…"
He presses another kiss to your lips, then pulls back completely, his hands going to his undo his clothes, starting with his belt.
"I think we would do well to move this to the bed," he whispers, voice lustful and husky.
You nod, watching him reveal more of his lean masculine body in the torchlight, and you can feel your canal lubricating itself… your pussy ready to invite him inside you.
You say a silent prayer of apology to the poor tailor who made your dress so pretty as you start to undo the laces of your bodice and slip out of it. You pull it over your head and drop it in a mess on the floor, soft clinking of jewels striking stone heard as you do so.
Tharja has himself naked by that point and spares no time freeing you of your undergarments, until your flesh is completely exposed from head to toe.
You actually can't help but squeak in fear as Tharja settles his hands on your curves, forgetting you're exposed in a way that only Tharja will see. Yes– that only Tharja should see.
You let out an excited moan as Tharja's hands swirl over your belly.
"Have you developed a bump her yet, my dear Edwys…?" he asks, softly.
Your lips turn in a frown and you admit you haven't… just yet.
But you know his son is there, waiting to show himself.
"Hm… I understand." He smacks his lips. "In the meantime… there are other areas of you to touch…"
He curves his hands around your backside and grabs a healthy pinch of your ample ass in his hands, cupping both cheeks in his embrace.
You let out another little sound as he provokes a jump from you. You reach your hands up to wrap your soft arms around the back of his neck.
He's… intent on making you cry out, isn't he? You can't help but whisper the accusation to him.
He doesn't hide his grin.
"Maybe a little…"
The next instant, he's picking you up. He lets out a small grunt as he pulls you up. It has the desired effect of making you squeak in surprise again. His arms move, one to your thighs and the other up your back, just under your hair, as he suspends you completely in the air. One hand under your knees, the other supporting your back.
You blink up at him, speechless… and a little frightened. You're not terribly heavy, but was this too strenuous for him? You start to ask, but then think twice about it. You don't want to perhaps deliver some indirect insult by questioning his ability to lift you.
Tharja stares down at you, licking his lips.
"I hope you're ready, Edwys… I've been desiring you for some time."
–Oh. It hadn't occurred to you that Tharja may actually be needing an outlet as much as you have.
You arch your back in his embrace, doing your best to put your breasts on display for him.
You're feeling genuinely romantic as he steps over to his bed and sets you down.
You look up at him with excited, anxious eyes, arms sliding to your sides to let him get a full look at you.
You look at him, at least until…
You can't bear holding back, you turn your head to gaze at Tharja's member.
As you expect, it's hard and pointed directly at you, head beginning to poke through his foreskin.
It… looks so swollen…
Your thoughts are interrupted by Tharja putting a firm hand on your thigh.
He lowers his hand to your feet, ushering you to bend your legs.
"Turn over, Edwys. I desire to take you on your hands and knees."
You prefer to have sex with you both facing each other, but you won't deny his request. It gives you a shiver as you do as he says, turning yourself on your front and propping yourself up on your hands and knees. You feel like some beast presenting itself in hopes it will be mounted… impregnated… bred. Tharja has already done that, of course, but you can certainly dream.
Tharja wastes no time, he climbs up on the bed and positions himself behind you. You feel his hands grip your waist as he adjusts your position, forcing you to spread your knees a little wider and arch your back to his liking. Your breasts hang freely, your erect nipples pointing at the floor.
The suspense and not knowing when the penetration will come fills you with trepidation and fear. Tharja can set any pace he likes with you barely able to do more than moan and speak back at him…
You wait for his cock to touch your lips, but it doesn't come. You realize he must be teasing you… you can't help but let out a disappointed little moan.
You feel one of his hands lift up from your body, then–
You give a sudden surprised gasp as you feel your head pulled back. Your neck arching, thrusting your chin out. What's he… doing?
You realize after a split second of fear that he's reached down and grabbed your long hair, enough to pull back at your head.
"Heh… sorry, Edwys. I just realized… you've sort of grown the perfect set of reins to hold on to, with you posed this way."
…No. It's… it's the symbol of your femininity, your fecundity…
He continues on.
"So, let's do it… just like this."
You can feel your hair being brushed by his hands as he starts to rub his cock along your outer labia lips. You can feel the pressure on your scalp as he pulls it taut enough for you to be aware he's holding it.
Your long hair is your symbol of who you are… it annoyed you at times with how hard it was to maintain and care for, but letting Tharja pull it…
It felt wrong. It is wrong. You don't want that. He might damage it.
How can you stop him?
He's your husband. He has a right to use you as he wants. If… if he prefers to manipulate your body, you'd have to accept that… is hair-pulling not part of that? Perhaps… perhaps you'll grow to like the pain.
…Tharja continues to rub himself against you. You know if you're going to voice an objection it had better be before he penetrates you.
There's no stopping a man's lust once he's inside you. You know from personal experience.
Your heads feels dizzy as you consider what to do. Tharja was kind… he'd listen, surely…
But… do you have the right to speak up?
>Stay silent and let Tharja do whatever he wants.
>You don't like this, but you'll put up with it for the sake of his desire. Permit him to pull it but speak up and ask Tharja to at least be gentle.
>It's too much. Beg him to release your hair.
Option one. She should give it a try. Maybe she'll like it rough after a while.
>3 votes for option one, be a good wife and let Tharja do as he pleases.
Stay silent, submit to the hair pulling.
Poll closed. Update soon.
…You say nothing.
It's his right to use you. It's his right to manipulate you. Even break you.
So are your thoughts before Tharja thrusts his hips forward and spears your delicate feminine folds with his virile, manly cock.
You can't help but jerk your body, arching your back and letting out a surprised gasp.
The feeling of Tharja holding your hair, giving you less freedom of motion, makes you twist and turn and stretch your neck out.
It's… not pleasant. Bolts of terror course through your body as you struggle to breathe.
Your lungs fill with panicked breaths as you deal with the fear that Tharja will pull your hair too hard, that you will spend so many years growing it again.
You become aware of a deep, satisfied moan from Tharja.
His grip relaxes somewhat, and you sigh in relief as your hair goes slack enough to lower your head.
"Damn, Edwys… you were really… tight…"
…Oh, that's right.
Tharja's cock is inside you. The feeling of your hair being pulled made you focus on your panic and not your sex.
You hear Tharja let out a lusty little sigh. There's a layer of hunger there you haven't heard before. You're not sure you'd heard Tharja swear before either.
"It's because I pulled your hair, isn't it…? It really gets you off?"
Before you have time to think about it, Tharja gives another tug and you let out another surprised yelp as your head is pulled back again, your vulnerable white throat exposed as you have no choice but to arch your neck back.
You hold back more fear as Tharja places his lips beside your ear.
"Squeal for me, Edwys."
He follows it up with a savage thrust, so much your body is shoved forward from the impact.
True to Tharja's command, from your lips emerges a pitiful shocked squeal.
You want to tell him 'no'… you don't want to be treated like an outright beast…
But instead of words, your voice only emits more and more hurried squealing.
It echoes off the walls in Tharja's confined little room, the sounds burning in your ears.
Mixed with Tharja's moans as he continues to thrust his cock into you, striking your ample rump with each thrust, creating a hard slap each time that mingles with your cries, with Tharja's labored panting.
You can feel your eyes burning, wet with tears as he mercilessly pounds away.
You want to slump down on your forearms, or at least wipe your eyes free of their tears, but you cannot even manage that.
Your head is too taut with Tharja's pulling. You have no choice but to keep your poor arms ramrod straight.
You body shakes with dread and pain as Tharja satisfies himself.
You can feel it, you can hear it.
The hard desperate thrusts and the satisfied groans from behind you.
Tharja's going to cum…
Drool drips freely from your orifice as you continue squealing.
You can't help but hold your mouth open in an attempt to relieve pressure on your scalp.
Tharja's crotch slams into your ass once, twice, thrice…
You feel your hair pulled even harder as his muscles tense and he orgasms. A loud masculine groan resounding through the room.
Until you hear him panting hard, feel the heat of his chest over your bare back as he lies on top of you, and his cum flows inside you.
He finally lets go of your hair.
But not before giving your back a fond kiss.
"F-Fuck… Edwys… that was the best sex I've ever had… I can still feel myself cumming…"
He runs his hands up and down the front of your belly, trailing up to massage your delicate breasts.
You… didn't come close to enjoying it. Your pussy feels wet and raw.
But, you can take a certain satisfaction in your sex. Hadn't Tharja praised you? Hadn't you done what he wanted?
–Though you're not sure if you should feel proud or indignant that he slipped and said: 'The best sex I've ever had,' instead of 'The best sex we've ever had.'
Meanwhile, you can't help your nerves.
You quickly move your hair away so he can't touch it anymore, then turn back to examine his fingers.
Tharja raises no objections; he's curled up beside you, body still vibrating with pleasure.
You indeed find one or two hairs curled in his fingers. Their length is truly impressive.
Not enough to become a patch of missing hair on your head, but even that little bit makes your heart race.
You can't lose your hair… you just can't.
You're tempted to run from the room and find a maid to help you wash it and oil it.
You're being silly.
This amount hardly matched what hair you lost in a normal brushing. It's trivial.
…But how could you know for sure it'd always be like that?
Tharja is a man, after all. He could underestimate his strength.
You sit on Tharja's bed, fretting, his sperm slipping down your thighs as you ponder your hair.
Tharja seemed to genuinely enjoy it all…
The panicked thoughts you had made your groin constrict and milk his cock, hard. Harder, you suppose, than you normally manage in your sex. Though you always made an effort to do that.
No doubt he'll be expecting and looking forward to experiencing that again.
Though having your husband looking forward to sex with you was… good, it wasn't as good a sex for you.
Your own desires are unfulfilled, in terms of raw pleasure. You can take satisfaction from the result, but… was it enough?
You turn and look at Tharja's face.
He's dozing, a contented grin on his face as he sleeps. Looking utterly relaxed.
You have a choice to make.
Your lips turn into a tight frown as you ponder what to do…
Let this continue? Or possibly… ask Tharja to stop?
>Stay with Tharja until he awakes with more of his senses. Explain you really don't want your hair pulled. He can do anything else.
>Cuddle with Tharja and, later, confide your fears and ask him to help you find a solution.
>Masturbate yourself to orgasm and then lay with Tharja, accepting the hair pulling forever, if it's what THarja wants.
Option 2. Marriage is a partnership. We want to make Tharja happy, but we don't want to live in constant fear of our hair. The sexytimes should be enjoyable for both.
I too vote for option two.
BTW: aristo, do you still have the beginning of the story? The thread on bbw-chan is gone and it's not in the wayback machine as far as I can tell.
You mean of Impregnated Princess? This is it. This is the entire story. The only thing that's missing is the choice prompts and the votes. (What was chosen is listed at least.)
I think I may still have a version with those prompts and the votes still saved, but is there some part you're looking for?
Oh. Then misremembered that some piece of the beginning was missing.
You may be thinking of the post where I teased the possibility of this sex scene back in the bbw-chan thread. It's identical to what is here, though.
Can't believe I managed to miss this last week.
>3 votes for option two, cuddle, then confide your fears with Tharja.
Share your misgivings about having your hair pulled with Tharja.
Poll closed. Update soon.
You curl up to Tharja's side, settling in next to him.
You let your fingers curl around his chest, feeling his muscles. The smell of his scent fills your senses as you close your eyes and cuddle close.
Tharja lies there breathing, and you become aware of how exhausted he must be; your hand rising and falling along with his chest as air fills his lungs.
You rest your own eyes, unaware if sleep claims you or not.
It's all you can do to hold back from needling him with your concerns.
Eventually you do feel him stir, rolling over.
You turn your fingers around his skin, hoping to rouse him.
It takes a few minutes, but he finally turns back to you.
He lets out a deep groan.
"Just speak up if you want something."
…He sounds approaching the borderline of being annoyed. You decide you must follow his command.
You would… prefer not to feel such extremes of emotion during your sex.
That is… fear.
You can't help but draw out your words with awkward pauses, worried you won't find the right words.
Tharja reaches up and tangles his hand in your hair.
"Is this about the baby in your belly, Edwys?"
No, but now that he's suggested it, you can't help but feel your request is more selfish than it seemed.
It's your… hair.
It's precious to you. If you lose it, it won't grow back.
That's why you can't lose it. You fear if Tharja makes a habit of being rough, then you just may.
Tharja listens, then lets out another sigh.
"We'll talk later."
… All right.
You let it go without saying anything more.
You're not sure if you did any more than sour Tharja's mood. You'll have to wait and see.
You go back to your room walking stiffly and sorely for the next two weeks.
Tharja continues to show you attention, even if he must be gone in the morning and can't have you sleeping in his bed overnight.
Though, his motions in bed are not as… intense.
You never do end up talking about your hair pulling again. He simply stops doing it.
You decide that's enough of a solution and never bring it up again.
One morning, like any other, you're awakened by the morning light and warmth.
You blink yourself awake and stretch out with a long yawn…
Your pregnancy makes your sleep difficult. You wake up feeling as tired and worn out as when you lay yourself down. You've asked the maids to stop coming to wake you, at least not without cause.
Unfortunately, it didn't help matters.
You continue to lie for a period of time before you roll yourself upright and move to swing your legs over.
You wonder what you should do today…
The tailor may have your new clothes completed by now.
You wonder if the peasants have raised enough of your garden yet, enough for you to walk and admire the view.
You take off your night gown and throw it over your modesty partition, moving to take up your underwear.
Of course, you don't even bother with the partition. At least not in the morning.
You slide your lower underwear up your thighs and then work on your bodice when you see it. You blink. Then you blink again. You smooth out your hand and run it over your mid-section.
Could it be…?
A sudden rush of energy fills you and you forget your weariness and rush over to the mirror.
… You have a bump.
It's small, barely noticeable, but it's undeniably there once spotted.
You have a bump.
You have an honest-to-goodness bump!
You can feel your face become hot, your eyes becoming wet.
You're stuck between wanting to dance and cry in joy.
This was it… the next stage to your pregnancy. Your future child with Tharja letting you know he's there.
You continue stroking your belly as the emotions wash through you.
It's most marvelous feeling in the world… and the scariest.
You'll have to work on being the best mother you can be.
–But, for now, you're the picture of delight.
You have a bump!
Your excitement is spoiled by a knock on the door.
You turn your head and call out.
Who is it, you ask?
You hear an older woman's voice call back and you recognize it as one of the maids.
You're still full of emotions to the extent you can barely make out what she actually says, beyond that she's come to visit you.
Half of your breasts are spilled from your loose bodice. You could do with having her help you into it.
But, maybe you should show off?
You do wish you had someone to share in the moment.
It couldn't hurt to invite her in to see your newly-pregnant belly, could it?
>Tell her to wait while you (attempt) to lace up your bodice and finish dressing yourself.
>You're too emotional to hide it, you may as well be proud. Invite her in and show off your bump.
>You mustn't be too personal with the maids. Call her in to help with the bodice and your dress, but don't call particular attention to your bump. …Or at least, try not to.
Mm… Option 1. While Edwys doesn't strike me as being one to rub her belly in her maid's face (though that's an interesting mental image), and she might want to subtly show off to the maid, I think she might want to save the baby bump reveal for Tharja.
>3 votes for option one, lace up your bodice and finish dressing. Don't show off your bump.
Dress yourself and have the maid wait.
Poll closed. Update soon.
You mustn't let your excitement run away with you.
You ask the maid to please wait. You're not presentable.
Your hands go to work tying your underclothes together.
All the while, you can't stop smiling. You close your eyes and rock from side to side, feeling immensely pleased with yourself.
You finish putting on your dress and have almost forgotten the maid is waiting when you open the door.
Not just a maid, but a blonde-haired woman are waiting for you.
She's dressed in very fashionable traveling clothes. A shortened skirt on her dress.
Her long blonde hair looks as if it could rival yours in length.
Her clothes bear a brooch with an intricate design, and she carries a book in her arms.
There's no doubt that this woman could be anything but an aristocrat.
The maid speaks up, introducing you as Her Royal Highness, Edwys of Ruhemania.
The stranger curtsies before you.
Ah. The etiquette falls to you.
You know who this person must be.
The maid goes on to introduce her as Beatrice, lady from Elbania.
You exchange pleasantries, a soft mutual 'how do you do,' then you offer your hand for her to shake.
You're the princess, you can set the level of formality, and you're too emotional for a stiff meeting.
You tell Beatrice you're very glad to make her acquaintance. You know she'll make a fine midwife.
She responds to your gesture by taking your hand for a soft shake, not shying away from full-hand contact. Her face meets your smile with her own.
"My, my. Thank you very much for the vote of confidence, Your Highness."
You think you're going to like Beatrice.
You almost want to tell her to call you 'Edwys,' but perhaps that's too informal.
The maid speaks up at that point and tells you breakfast is waiting for you. It was planned for Beatrice to join you.
"If that's to your liking, Your Highness."
Of course! It'll be a perfect opportunity to get to know each other.
That was your plan, but…
Nature is making the experience into a misery. No sooner do you sit down with Beatrice and your meals are presented then you take one look at the food and lose your appetite.
You stare at the food for a good ten or twenty seconds before you realize Beatrice has not started to eat.
Ah. She's being polite. She's waiting for the Princess to take a bite before she does.
You apologize. The past few weeks or so, you just have times where you can't stand the thought of eating. No matter how good the food is.
Beatrice gives you a reassuring smile.
"That's completely normal," she nods. "It's just a sign your pregnancy is advancing healthily."
You perk up a little, hearing that. You knew it was something to be expected, but… the more healthy a baby you can carry, the better.
"Indeed." She gives a faint little laugh. "When you don't feel like eating, go ahead and don't eat. It'll be much better than trying to force yourself."
It's exactly what you want to hear.
You make a comment about feeling sorry for the poor cooks, but you won't feel guilty.
You bid Beatrice to please eat, and she finally takes up her spoon.
You reflect on how glad you are that you asked for a midwife. An educated, dedicated midwife.
No sooner has she arrived then she's put one of your silly little fears to rest and provided you with sound advice.
…It's a little boring and awkward to sit and watch someone else eat, but you have no choice.
You don't want to just get up. And you have nothing else planned. Maybe you'll start to feel hungry.
You note Beatrice has impeccable manners as well. You mentally remind yourself that even if you've become used to eating alone, you must continue to practice. Some day, surely, you'll be entertaining some other nobility.
The door suddenly opens. It's enough of a surprise that you almost recoil.
It's Daniella, with empty hands.
It's like Daniella not to knock, but somehow… it feels different.
She wears a stone-serious face.
Did something happen…?
"Miss," she begins, and it's clear she's addressing Beatrice, not you.
Beatrice… suppresses a frown.
You don't blame her. She breached etiquette by not addressing you first with a 'Your Highness.' But, you'll let it slide. Daniella has helped you in the past, after all.
"Miss. Your room is prepared."
Beatrice's eyebrows arch.
"Is that so? I thought I would have my choice."
"…That is not your decision. There are only a few rooms available."
That comment is outright strange.
You've stepped the halls too many times to know that there's unused rooms.
–Aren't there? The way Daniella says it makes you question your own assumptions. Maybe they were being used, and you just weren't aware.
"There is only the matter of your luggage. May I take your things for you, Miss?"
She steps closer, holding an outstretched hand.
It feels another breach of etiquette. A servant should wait until they are asked to take care of something, not take it upon themselves… at least not like this. Beatrice has barely arrived.
You realize now Beatrice still has her book. She'd transferred it from her arms to her lap.
Beatrice gives Daniella a close-lipped smile.
"Oh, this? I will keep it, thank you."
You almost want to take it upon yourself to lecture Daniella on forgetting her manners to an aristocrat, but you can't find the words.
The scene is too tense, and a chill runs up your back as you watch the two women interact. Daniella with her steely expression and eyes that don't seem to leave Beatrice.
Beatrice challenges her in her own way: sitting there without dismissing her or showing visible offense, as if daring Daniella to continue.
… You realize now these two have personalities that won't let them get along.
It's as if they were natural enemies; destined to dislike each other.
Beatrice sets down her spoon.
"I say," she starts, "I really should insist on having a selection for my living quarters. I'm here on His Majesty's request. The castle is certainly big enough."
There's a slight pause.
"…I suppose if you are willing to accept a delay, that would be possible," she offers.
Beatrice gives an annoyed little squint.
"A delay? In what? Having a simple place to rest my head?" she asks.
"…I will take what steps I can to accommodate your request, but I can't offer guarantees. His Majesty only gave orders for one room to be prepared."
"Ridiculous. No offense to His Majesty, but I refuse to believe you have naught but one room prepared for the arrival of an aristocrat."
"…Many of the rooms are in mothballs and used as storage. They are full of dust that will need to be cleaned, furniture that is unfit to be used."
Oh. That makes more sense.
Come to think of it, you weren't given a choice of where your room would be.
You watch the two women stare at each other.
…Perhaps you should intervene?
It feels like a conversation going nowhere, and you really should assert yourself.
"Well, I am here at the request of His Majesty to provide my services to Her Highness. Perhaps we should invite her to settle this."
Ah. You've lost your ability to hide in the corner, it seems.
"…Yes, it is fair that Her Highness decides."
They both look at you, expectantly.
What… what are you deciding?
At any rate, they're both waiting for you to talk.
You try to sum up the conflict.
–Beatrice wants her choice of room, you begin.
His Majesty has only one room prepared.
It will take time, perhaps overnight, for a different room to be prepared.
In that case…
Both women look at you with their full attention.
It feels less like you're trying to find a compromise. You're picking a side.
The thought makes you pause, which gives you one last second to consider what to offer as a solution.
>…Beatrice should just accept the room given. For now at least. If she truly hates it, she can request one later. You don't know if the King will allow it, but… it's the most straightforward solution.
>Beatrice is an aristocrat and deserves a say. She should have her pick. If the maids truly can't get it prepared… you'll offer that she can sleep in your quarters, for the night.
Give Beatrice her choice of room
Hmm… I'm so glad I didn't find the main series back in the early days. Living with Vlad was seriously dangerous, and extremely depressing.
Option 1, if only because I don't see Princess Edwys being particularly self-confident. Not enough to hold up against Daniella, at least.
Gonna go with Option 2 simply because we need Beatrice to like us.
I agree that Edwys does not seem assertive enough for option two.
The way I see it is that because Beatrice can make our life easier or harder depending on her whims (to a point), her comfort is as important as ours. So, I would say that now would be a time to be assertive and self-confident, even if it's just a front.
Perhaps, but Daniella's scary and creepy, and we know full well she has the king's ear, even in-character.
We might be carrying a potential heir to Ruhemania, but we're dealing with an aging and unstable tyrant. No one will be safe until he's dead, and this iteration of the main character doesn't have the position or the opportunity to make that work for them.
>2 votes for option one, encourage Beatrice to accept the room give to her.
>2 votes for option two, intervene on Beatrice's behalf for her choice of room, offer to let her stay with you overnight.
We have a tie.
I will come back to this later, and if there is still a tie, I will flip a coin to decide the result. Then I will write the next update.
Please feel no urge to change your vote. Changing your vote will not make the update happen sooner.
I vote option two
>2 votes for option one, encourage Beatrice to accept the room give to her.
>3 votes for option two, intervene on Beatrice's behalf for her choice of room, offer to let her stay with you overnight.
Poll closed. Update soon.
This is ridiculous.
Of course, there's only one solution.
Beatrice deserves consideration. She must have her choice of room.
She's going to be a midwife to you. She'll be intimately involved in your pregnancy and those after.
…And you hope she'll become a dear friend.
Furthermore, and you hate to do it like this–
But Daniella is acting much too cavalier.
She's been borderline rude to Beatrice. She deserves proper manners shown to her, even if she's from Elbania. No, perhaps more so because of it.
Beatrice has been very polite. She deserves the similar consideration.
And if there truly is no other room open tonight… you'll share your own.
Hospitality knows no bounds.
Daniella lets you speak your piece. She does a good job holding down any negativity if she's feeling it.
Then she hangs her head.
"…Apologies, Your Highness. You are right in this matter. And I will correct myself."
–Well, that's good.
You add on that it was Beatrice who was wronged. Her apology would be better suited for her ears.
Daniella turns toward Beatrice and bows her head.
"Apologies, Lady Beatrice. I meant no disrespect."
You glance over for Beatrice's reaction.
You watch sort of loll her head.
"Mm. Well, you were only following His Majesty's command, weren't you? You can hardly be blamed for that, even if your method was a tad… brusque. I shall overlook it."
Beatrice returns to eating, leaving you to dismiss Daniella.
She promises to make arrangements to temporarily move Beatrice's things into your room for the night. She then departs, shutting the door behind her and leaving you both alone.
You can't help but feel some lingering unease.
You tell her that was very out of character for Daniella. She's not exactly talkative but she's normally more sympathetic.
Were you right in assuming it was because she was from Elbania?
Beatrice gives a brisk shrug with her neck.
"I don't see why it would. It's hardly another world, Your Highness. But, it's no matter. I've put it out of my mind."
She finally gives you a pleased little smile.
"Thank you for engineering that solution. Spending the night together will give me a fine opportunity to judge how your pregnancy is affecting you."
You hadn't considered that.
Really, you ask?
You have had trouble sleeping lately, now that Beatrice mentions it.
She nods her head.
"It's another normal sign that you're healthy, Your Highness. It will become important for you now and later to have the correct posture, even in bed. Especially when you're gravid and truly heavy with child."
You can't help but smile at that thought.
This was good. You're eager to learn all the good habits you can from Beatrice.
You find yourself looking forward to a new set of studies you can take to prepare yourself to be the perfect mother for your many children.
Tharja will be no doubt pleased too with what skills Beatrice will impart on you.
>No choice yet, further update coming soon.
You spend the rest of the day with Beatrice. You take it upon yourself to show her around the castle. At least, what you see of it.
You take her to the garden. Most of the work seems to be done. There's rows of earth, cordoned off by wooden fences, and a path with an archway. Benches are placed along the path scattered here and there. It leads to one outdoor table for two. You could imagine sharing a meal or tea with someone there.
You don't doubt it'll truly look wonderful when it's finished. But as of now, it almost feels… strange.
Like looking at a mannequin without a dress.
You look to Beatrice.
–Would she join you for a sit?
You're feeling a mite tired from the walk.
"Yes, I think that's appropriate, Your Highness."
You both settle on each side of the table. Beatrice easily and elegantly gathers her dress as she sits, like a true lady.
You were more looking for an excuse to have a quiet moment alone with Beatrice than a real break, but you think she's aware of that.
The setting is open enough to know no one is nearby to overhear, but public enough it doesn't feel scandalous to talk.
You should have a real conversation with Beatrice.
The question was where to begin…?
You decide to start with the obvious.
Has Beatrice been a midwife for long?
"Mm. I became intimately trained with the role fairly recently."
Has Beatrice been pregnant, herself?
You blurt the question out before you think too much of it.
At your query, she simply smiles. Like she's suppressing some amusement.
"Your Highness, there is no ring on my finger. And I traveled with no one but myself."
You can't help blushing, mortified at the insult you implied, unintentionally.
Of course Beatrice wouldn't have left a husband of hers behind, nor had a child out of wedlock… nor abandoned them.
You peep a small apology, unable to meet her eyes.
She waves her hand.
"It's all right. It's a fair, logical curiosity. But, no… you see, I'm fond of study. I took to reading when I was very young. I know many things, and women's health during pregnancy is one of them."
But, then… why?
Beatrice smacks her lips, closing her eyes and recalling something.
"A dear friend… she was pregnant and wasn't aware of that fact until the baby asserted itself. In the form of an aggressive display of her water, bursting. In public."
You cannot hope to hide the shock on your face. How could that poor girl not know? You keep your curiosity quiet this time and let her continue, unabated.
"As such, there was no time to summon anyone else. Not even a commoner who would be more suitable to getting her hands dirty. I had no choice other than to put what I remembered to use and help her breathe and calm herself. After that, I became known as a midwife and had people seeking me out. Of course, I could not possibly turn down a request from a King."
You nod along with her story. It sounds like Beatrice didn't choose to be a midwife. She had the role thrust upon her.
The book Beatrice carries must be one about women's health. It stands to reason that she would want to keep it close to refer to it.
"Would you like to know anything else, Your Highness?" she asks.
You try to think of how to steer the conversation.
>You want to know more about the nearby Kingdom. What is Elbania like? Was the journey as difficult as yours?
>Your curiosity is satisfied for now. If Beatrice likes studying, maybe offering to show her the library will get on her good side? Ask if she'd like you to show her where it is.
>It's not right to monopolize the conversation and not let Beatrice have her turn. Prompt her to ask you whatever she likes about your own history. If she's interested.
Option 2. Let's keep things civil. And alright, I'm metahaming a little. But keeping Edwys in the dark sounds like fun right now.
Lets go with 3 into 2. Answer a couple questions, then show her the library.
I'd like to have at least three votes, but it seems I have no choice.
>2 votes for option two, invite Beatrice to the library.
Poll closed. Update soon.
You thank Beatrice for indulging your nosy little questions.
As repayment, of a sorts… why don't you show her the library? What would she say to that?
Beatrice's eyes light up and you know you've suggested the right thing.
"I'd say, I'd be very interested, Your Highness. Books are so very rare."
…Are they, you ask?
"Oh, of course, It can take a lifetime of dedication to copy even one. Let alone write and create one from scratch. A full library is a precious thing."
You suppose you had taken it for granted.
You think having Beatrice around will definitely open your mind.
There's no sense in wasting time, and your legs feel a bit better.
You stand up and walk with Beatrice to the castle.
You wonder if Tharja will be there or you'll find it unoccupied. It could be a good chance for them to be introduced.
You'd like to think they could interact amicably… without him being attracted to her, of course.
Though, that may be impossible. Even as another woman you have to admire Beatrice's beauty. In her face, and figure. Her proportions are very close to the ideal for pregnancy and childbirth, as your training to be a good wife has taught you.
She'd surely make a good wife for someone someday. Perhaps you would be mothers together?
It's an interesting little thought you have to occupy yourself with as you both walk.
>No choice yet, further update coming soon.
You reach the library.
Tharja isn't around, but you expected that.
Beatrice takes in the library with delight. Her steps bold and proud as she strides into the room.
"My, my… this is a sight."
She gives some restrained laughter. It only occurs to you how big the library is now that you've heard Beatrice's giggling echoing against the walls. You close the door behind you, for fear the sound may travel too far. You place the torch you're carrying at the holder so you have your hands freed.
"May I…?" she asks, looking back.
It's open to you, and you therefore have the right to open it to Beatrice.
She examines one of the bookcases, smacking her lips.
It's more to herself than to you, otherwise you think you might have the presence of mind to be offended on THarja's behalf.
It never seemed to you that dusty, but you don't suppose you've been around to make sure it's upkept.
Beatrice turns back toward you.
"Won't you join me, Your Highness?"
"Are you not interested? You'll need a way to pass the time, in a way that doesn't tire you. It may improve your spirit to take up the hobby."
She has a playful smile on her face.
"Besides.. reading opens worlds you never knew existed."
There's an odd sort of twinkle in her eye as she tells you that. It's not unsettling, but you have the feeling you've been told something beyond the scope of your personal knowledge.
If Beatrice says so, it may be worth doing.
If Beatrice could learn how to midwife from books, you may be able to refine your maternal skills a bit better as well.
>No choice yet, further update coming soon.
You spend the rest of the day with Beatrice in the library.
It definitely got you on her good side, but it doesn't leave much time else for conversation.
You suppose that's all right.
The book she picks for you is interesting. It tells about the various animals found in Ruhemania.
You feel fortunate your escorts did not happen upon one of the aggressive bears described in that book. With how the book describes their strength, you think it possible you may not have survived.
You were hoping being in the library would also mean you'd encounter Tharja…
But he never appears, even when it's clear sunset has rolled in.
Beatrice is confused with why you look crestfallen when it comes time for you to go back to your room.
"What's wrong, Your Highness?"
Ah. You didn't tell her Tharja's room is at the very end of this hallway.
Maybe you should…?
>Share with Beatrice that Tharja's room is over there, and you hoped to meet him.
>Tell her it's nothing and return to your room together. It's been a long enough day.
[View All] (67 posts and 14 image replies omitted)
Option 1. Why not share?