Love Charms

by Multiple

  “There’s a holdout of nobles… they lived through it all and they’re awaiting you, but there’s no way you can leave this castle, this room. If they find you,” she frowned, shaking her head as she brushed out another blond curl. “I’ve found a way, though. It will sound strange, my darling Princess, but you trust me, don’t you?”

  The slender princess turned on her seat towards her, hope rising in her as those blue eyes widened. “You can get me out to them?” she said, and Mirella saw a tremble in the young woman’s hands as excitement rose.

  “Yes, and you can be off, safe and happy while they retake the city,” she paused, licking her lips. “Princess, I’ve been gifted my freedom. I’ve had a child…” she trailed off as though it were too painful to think of before regaining her ability to speak, “I’m free to go. But you are so much more important. I’ve… I’ve found a way for you to go free in my stead. I will suffer for you, Princess.”

  The foolish girl blinked and looked her over, somehow having not realized that her former servant—whom she’d known almost all her life—was no longer pregnant. “They’re letting you go,” she repeated meekly. It was obviously a lot for the young woman to wrap her mind around, but she knew the tales of how women who survived their pregnancy were granted freedom. “How?” she asked, her voice building back to its usual command in that one, simple word.

  From out of her pocket, Mirella took out of a long, silver amulet, letting the chain drape between her fingers. “Princess, this necklace is enchanted. It will let us switch bodies, so that you may escape, free of scrutiny.” Her breathing hitched as she looked at the young, fair princess, so different from herself. Those big, blue eyes. That long, golden hair. The ivory flesh.

  She didn’t covet those things. She was happy and comfortable in her own body, with the dark, olive flesh and her devious eyes, that long, glossy black hair. And those tiny marks that her pregnancy had still left her. She loved her body, yet this was something she was doing for greater reasons.

  This was her sacrifice.

  With hesitant fingers the curious princess touched the amulet. “What sorcery is this?” she murmured, not expecting an answer. She wet her pink lips then looked Mirella over.

  She knew what the pale, royal waif was doing. She was debating with herself on whether she wished to downgrade herself to a servant’s older form. “I don’t know, Mirella…” she said hesitantly.

  “Your freedom, Princess,” she knelt down in front of the woman, her green eyes imploring the young Princess. “Please, it’s killing me seeing you locked up here, away from your people. They’re losing hope without you. They need you,” tears threatened her vision as she begged.

  A lifetime of serving this petulant girl had taught her how to manipulate her. “It’s reversible, right?” she asked, lifting the amulet and studying it intently.

  “Yes, Princess,” she said in a calming tone. Both needed to consent. To trust one another. To want the switch to occur. Mirella’s words were absolutely honest, and her fingers grazed the noble’s hand, “Your people need you.”

  Anabelle studied the pendant long, lost in her own indecisiveness. It was too long really, considering how obvious the choice seemed, but at last she nodded, her beautiful young face contorted into firmness. “I’ll do it. My people need me,” she said to Mirella, her azure gaze crystalline and hard.

  Mirella resisted the urge to roll her eyes, and took the chain from the woman, slowly descending it over Anabelle’s head, “For the good of Ariste, I do this.”

  The princess arched her spine and stood prim and proper, the fullness of her royal form returned. “The people shall remember this. It will be told in tales long after my rule has ended,” she said with absolute certainty.

  Her harder hands took the pampered flesh of Anabelle, her fingers so light as she grazed the flesh, her voice becoming low as she began chanting. Her voice met with the others of the circle below, the stone of the palace not able to keep the sisters of the Raven Guard from joining their powers together.

  All about them the air seemed to thrum, the air vibrating as if it were countless little pebbles that shook with some mighty energy.

  “What’s happening?” she heard the voice of the princess so faint, as if distant and far off.

  Chapter 27

  The entire city showed up that day for the wedding. The imperial army sent forth its own representatives, minor nobles considered expendable enough for the task.

  Ariste rung with the bells of the cathedral as the smiling couple emerged onto the steps of the great holy building. The new Queen and wife looking even more dainty and pale than usual in contrast to the great, dark visage of the God-King, her husband.

  Anabelle was slender, and that long, white dress felt like it flowed down over her form unhindered by womanly curves, the breeze catching it and making it dance against her body. Her hand held tight to her husband’s as her pretty, pink lips twisted into a smile, tears of joy making her blue eyes twinkle even more vibrantly.

  Flowers were twisted through her golden hair. Little pink and purple blossoms stuck out around her braids and curls, the updo so elaborate and painstakingly done. The soft anklet of raven feathers went unseen as it caressed her bare feet, making her seem even shorter compared to him. Her God. Her King. Her Husband. Her Kulav.

  A lifetime of serving royalty had prepared for that day, and none doubted her as she strode through the nobles, or rode up the hill to her palace. She knew all the things to say, and though the body was foreign to her, she knew how to wield it primly.

  Chapter 28

  That night she met him in the royal bedroom. Forms had to be followed. The Empire’s representatives would insist on everything being done perfectly. Even the virginal shroud had to be provided for them, as any pretence of illegitimacy would be used to swoop in and claim the city.

  The God-King studied her in the light of that magnificent room, held her dainty hand as his eyes roamed over her. “So frail,” he said in a firm but low voice, still reeling with the changes in her.

  He looked resplendent in his shimmering outfit. It was, in essence, a more ostentatious version of his battle wear. The glimmering raven’s feathers so sleek, gilded in silver. They would be crowned on the morrow assuming the Empire found no objection. Officially the King and Queen.

  “It’s strange,” she agreed, but her hands moved along his chest so readily, so eagerly, and he could tell it was her. None would have the brazen audacity to meet his eyes like she did; none would have the authority to let her palms press against his flesh. “Kulav’ar will look so different from me, now,” she lamented, but her mouth sought out his, her tongue glancing against him.

  The Princess’ body was hers, now. And she gave it freely to him.

  Scooping the delicate young form of his wife into his arm, he pressed her to the bare flesh of his ashen skin, letting her pale form feel him out as he carried her to the massive bed. It was a king’s bed, and could’ve fit two dozen waifs like her now, but it was all theirs.

  He laid her out, slid his hard hands up her slender calves and milky white thighs, pushing her stunning dress up as he eyed her. Through it she heard the material of his pants stretch with his growing arousal, the leather straining. “There shall be more children,” he said, though with the tone he knew it was little compensation for her.

  The youth did provide her many more opportunities. The Princess was still so vibrant and nubile, and she knew her form would contort so attractively. Those blue eyes of hers stared up at him as her legs parted, revealing the smooth, blonde pelt between her legs. Her body was ready for him, and she bit her lip to suppress a grin.

  “I never thought I’d have to go through this again,” she admitted shyly.

  A grin spread across his face at that remark, and as she watched him roll his shoulders back and undo the clasps of his belt, pulling open his pants, she saw that massive, dark girth fall out so heavily. “This time,” he said, lowering himself down over her
so that its bulging crown, so slick and dark grazed her pale blonde tuft of pubic hair, “it shall be a lot worse.”

  She saw his teeth then as he nudged himself against her thin hymen. Such a tiny, puffy little slit seemed so vulnerable compared to him as he prepared to rip it asunder.

  She’d given birth, she knew of pain, but something about the prospect of him taking her virginity thrilled her, even at the promised pain. She thought back to the women she’d helped him deflower, to those concubines she’d wetted for him, and grew heated against his thick crown.

  “My husband,” she murmured, “Don’t take me gently.”

  He didn’t.

  That bulbous girth tore into her, forcing her narrow, virginal canal to widen in his wake. He gave such a low, husky groan of delight at it, the pain and pleasure so sweet. Then, pausing in their marital bliss, they looked to the obscene sight of his bulbous dark cock protruding out of her puffy pink slit.

  No longer did she sport those wide child bearing hips. Now it was such a slender frame, and it made his penetration of her look all the more lewd. He began to buck his hips and pump his shaft into her, groaning with satisfaction as his pace grew so fast.

  She screamed, partly because she knew the Princess would scream. Only they could hear that arousal that ran with it, that secret, shared bliss as she felt that thick cock piston into her. She couldn’t lift her legs, couldn’t hook them around him, but it was so sweet, and violent. The slender curves, the pale flesh of her body was in such contrast to him. In such contrast to her own body.

  Kulav held little back, and the sound of his heavy balls slapping against her pert little ass resounded in the chambers, his husky breathing and moaning such a ruckus. They both know the Empire’s representatives listened from the chamber outside the door. Everything was so official. But none of that stopped them from enjoying it, and he ripped her dress in his hard yank, trying to get at one of her petite breasts, mauling it with his hunger.

  The dusty pink nipple was so hard against that small bit of flesh, her breasts not even a handful for the large man, though they were firm and supple. Her eyes fluttered closed as her warbling cry resounded around the chamber and tiny ‘ows’ peppered the air. He was hurting her, but the silent way she coaxed him on, the eagerness of that hot, wet entrance were so sweet as the blood dripped from her and soiled the sheets below.

  Just as it should.

  It was such a roar when he came, as if he too were putting on some show for their observers. The beast in Kulav let loose as he shook with his climax, loosing such a torrent of thick, virile cum into her fertile young cunny.

  It was a strange experience for Mirella—now Anabelle—and not just because of the switch of her body. It was as if she could feel herself on some level beyond what a person should. She could sense his seed working into her with such tenacity, and had this sense that if she willed it, she could deny it a hold within her. Instead she let it runs its course, and that night she knew, by some power, that she had conceived.

  Chapter 29

  The coronation was even bigger than the wedding. The Empire had acquiesced to the new rulership, for there were no grounds to deny it. The princess was now the saviour of her people, sparing them another arduous battle, negotiating for food relief from the imperial forces, and, to top it off, she offered them all a traitor.

  None objected to the offering of the middle aged servant. The Raven Guard, her sisterhood, were the only ones other than Kulav and her who knew the truth of who she was, and so they accepted it. But to appease the Empire and show the good faith of the new rulers, “Mirella” would serve the rest of her days raving in some dark dungeon that she was the true princess.

  Such things were bittersweet, however. She thought she’d paid her price, but she was wrong. Her own son no longer recognized her as mother, and though so young he looked at her with such an odd gaze.

  The new life swelling within her delicate body, elevation to the status of a queen and the love of her God-King would have to suffice. In the late nights, though, when her husband slumbered beside her, she wondered at Kulav’ar, and what would come of the true son of Kulav.

  Note From The Authors

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  J.E. & M. Keep love to combine fantasy, scifi, horror, romance and mystery into exciting and titillating novels.

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