Ending B-2: At Least the First Time Was Mine
Everything went dark without warning.
It felt as if I had sunk into a deep sleep. In the dream, my prince looked at me and smiled—but soon his face began to blur, and before long he was vanishing before my eyes. I tried to reach for him, yet my hand only passed through him. I could grasp nothing at all. The dream felt so real it terrified me—and it broke my heart. Everyone was disappearing, leaving me alone in the dark. My beloved family, Father, Mother, my prince… my knights, my maids—all of them fading, one by one. I stretched out my hands, desperate to hold them close and keep them from vanishing, but my fingers only slipped through their forms.
And then, as suddenly as the dream had begun, I opened my eyes in a darkened room.
It took a moment to understand that something was terribly wrong. When I looked down at myself, I realized I was no longer in a princess’s body. I was in the body of Kite—a private from Latvia. I was wearing a rough woolen uniform with a jacket, worn trousers, and military boots. The cloth scraped uncomfortably against my skin, and the cold metal of the buttons made me shudder.
Was it dawn? A faint light filtered through a small window, casting shadows along the walls. I tried to stand, staggered, and collapsed to the floor.
That was when I heard the strange sounds filling the room.
I looked—and saw the Crown Prince and the princess locked in passionate love until the early hours of morning. My face went bloodless. I sank to the floor in shock as a fear I could not even comprehend crashed over me. No—how could this be possible? Was what I was witnessing real? My prince, making love to her—to someone wearing my face?
The despair of being trapped in a colonial soldier’s body… the cold, hard floor beneath me… and the sounds of my prince and that impostor making love. Moans and cries of pleasure spilled through the room. The way he looked at her was nothing like before. That gaze was thick with affection and desire.
"Ah… hah… this position is so lewd… my prince…"
"Haha… this pose… hah… I’ve wanted you like this so badly, Leticia…"
I froze where I was, my gaze locked in place. Their pale legs, bare in the moonlight, stabbed at my eyes. Her moans grew louder and louder.
"My prince… please… recognize me… my prince… please…"
I whispered it, but my voice could not drown out their moans. Listening to them, I felt my own existence dissolving—my life as a princess, everything I had been—slipping away as if I had already been erased.
His hips slammed into her with such force I almost feared she would collapse, and her cries climbed higher. What a beautiful body… her whole frame trembling. Watching their lovemaking, I felt my precious thing harden. When I reached down, the heat and rigidity of a man’s organ pressed against my fingers. Urgency surged through me; as the burning sensation spread, the muscles around my penis drew tight—and I thrust it up and spilled my seed.
Grief, injustice, every thought I had—all of it blurred as I sank into that climax. When the fierce sensation finally ebbed, exhaustion followed, and after it a hollow emptiness that felt desperately lonely. I could not shake the void, or the sense of loss.
Morning came. I hurried to my post. Standing watch on the castle ramparts, I watched my carriage set out for Britain and felt despair settle over me like a weight. The sun shone brightly, but it was not enough to lift the clouds of sorrow that hung over me. Leaves rustled in the wind, yet only empty echoes sounded inside my heart.
And then I looked at the orb. It had shattered from what had happened. I knew then that I could never return to my original body. I was sealed in this form forever. In that moment I felt lonelier than I ever had in my life.
The carriage drew farther and farther away, and I was left alone in Latvia in a soldier’s body. Watching the dust from its wheels settle back onto the earth made my chest ache. As it vanished into the distance, a deep longing and despair swept over me that I could not hold back.
I still carried the memories of Leticia, Princess of Astria. Those memories were truly happy and beautiful—my younger brother, my family, and the Crown Prince. The time I had spent with them had been so full of joy. But I could no longer be with them. My kingdom, my family, my love… all of it was gone.
Now I had no choice but to live as Private Kite. Love with the Crown Prince had become a broken dream, something forever out of reach. I knew I could no longer expect any affection or attention from him. He would be with that bastard who had stolen my body. He no longer cared about me.
Day after day of military drills and duty would only isolate me further. I despaired of everything. I could find no meaning in my own existence. I had been someone loved and praised by all—and now all of that had vanished. What meaning did my existence hold now? How was I supposed to live alone like this? When would this suffering ever end? Those hopeless thoughts kept tormenting me. Was I simply to abandon my love for the Crown Prince and endure each day carrying this despair for the world?
My life had become nothing but a succession of despair and pain. I wished for it all to end. But it never did. I had to keep living—through the pain, on and on.
I was no longer a princess. I was nothing more than a common soldier in a grim barracks. Even after a year, the smell of this place never became familiar—bugs, the reek of night-blooming flowers, sweat all mixed into the worst stench imaginable. The beds were hard and uncomfortable, and the barracks were packed with other soldiers. The darker the night grew, the coarser and more obscene the talk inside the billet became. The men traded jokes and stories while I lay on my bunk and listened.
"Hey, I saw Lady Irene yesterday… her tits were insane."
Another soldier chimed in, "That new maid, Lena, is pretty cute too these days."
"Wonder what kind of noises she’d make in bed."
"Ah… this is a secret, okay? Just between us… yesterday, Princess Leticia…"
At the sound of my name my ears pricked up, and I felt my cheeks burn with shame.
"They say the moans were pouring out of her room until dawn… she definitely got fucked by that Crown Prince bastard last night."
"Whoa… if I could just spend one hot night with that princess, I’d do anything," one soldier said with a laugh.
"Ha. A woman who’s tasted a Swordmaster’s cock is gonna want a premature little shit like you?" another shot back.
They went on with their crude, filthy remarks about Count’s daughter Irene and all manner of other women—and about money, tobacco, liquor, and drugs. Lying there listening to their vulgar talk, I felt waves of hopelessness crash over me. Surrounded by these crude men and their crude humor—this was the life I was trapped in. It felt as if I would never escape this body or this forced existence.
Another guardsman laughed and said, "What about that maid Rosie? I wanna bury my thing in that ass of hers. But did you see the look in her eyes? Total tease."
The talk soon turned to the most beautiful princess of all—Leticia—and the guardsmen’s fantasies about her lush figure ran wild.
"But you guys seen the size of that princess’s tits? I wanna shove my cock between them… give her a titjob once," one guardsman said with a lewd grin.
"Or grab that princess’s ass and take her from behind," another added.
I tried to ignore them, but their voices were too loud, too rough. I understood then that my life had been flipped upside down and dropped into an abyss, and despair and loneliness flooded through me.
My prince had not recognized me. Just like these animals here. He had once whispered that he would love me forever—but it must have been nothing more than desire for my body. And even now he was probably enjoying that body. The thought made me sick. Imagining what he and that bastard living in my body were doing at this very moment was unbearable.
While the guardsmen kept up their filthy talk, I felt as though I had lost everything. The wedding was only a week away—the wedding that should have been mine. The wedding of my prince and my body. And I would be rotting here…
I could still feel the phantom weight of my prince’s engagement ring; my hand felt so empty without it. That ring, the symbol of our love and devotion, seemed unbearably heavy on my finger—yet there was no ring on my finger at all. All I had left were scars across my body from harsh training and battle.
When I closed my eyes, I felt tears slip free. I knew nothing would ever be as it was. My life had changed forever, and now I had to live a life that was not the one meant for me.
As the night deepened and the others drifted off to sleep, I was left alone, seized by thoughts and desire. To quiet the anxiety gnawing at me, I masturbated. A fleeting pleasure, a moment of relief—and at the same time, agony. Lying on the rough bed, I felt as if the darkness might swallow me whole. No one knew whether I would ever return to my former life, or whether I would remain forever trapped in this body and this existence. I clung to a thread of hope even as I wept, yet in the overwhelming dark around me I could not feel so much as a faint glimmer of light.
Still, I tried to console myself—at least the first time had been mine.
All that came out was a sigh.