Chapter 31
Chapter 31
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 31
Chapter Title: Not Livestock, But a Person
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Curtains parted to let in the morning sunlight, caressing her skin.
"Ughhh! Hngh!"
She stretched out refreshingly, joyfully greeting the new day.
"Huaaam… Hmnya…."
Another day had begun.
She rose from the bed and first slipped off her pajamas.
The night-chilled air tickled her side, making her shiver all over.
Next came unhooking her bra.
Jiggle, jiggle.
Her breasts, liberated from the bra's confines, reveled in their freedom by bouncing against each other like applause.
"Ha… finally, I can breathe…."
As the weather grew warmer, she'd discovered yet another downside to her massive bust.
Sweat built up terribly underneath them.
It was unhygienic and could lead to rashes if she wasn't careful.
So during the day, she'd have to duck into the bathroom now and then to wipe them down with a handkerchief.
If only they were just normally big.
From what she'd seen so far, her breasts were the largest among all the women in the Imperial Palace.
Sometimes catching those envious stares made her feel oddly pleased.
A sense of superiority… or something like it?
She slid off her panties next.
Having tossed and turned in her sleep, they'd wedged deep between her cheeks.
She reached back, gently parting her butt to fish them out.
"Just one big feature would be enough……."
What a ridiculously greedy body.
If the breasts were huge, the butt should be small.
If the butt was huge, the breasts should be small.
But no—both were enormous. How selfish could it get?
Lying flat on the bed lifted her waist uncomfortably because of it.
To sleep properly, she'd need a cushion under her lower back or have to roll onto her side.
"So damn inconvenient~"
Though it did look good.
As a man at heart, she knew exactly how alluring this feminine form was.
A bit embarrassing to admit, but if she set her mind to it, she could have any man wrapped around her finger.
Of course, she wouldn't.
She'd have to be insane to try.
Just saying it was possible.
"Still… there are perks."
She glanced in the mirror before washing up.
Pretty.
Not some pre-shower delusion of "I'm kinda hot, right…?"—objectively speaking, her transformed self was breathtakingly beautiful.
Coming from a man, she knew it all too well.
"No, cut it out."
She shook her head firmly.
Don't get too comfortable.
She had to think about returning to her male body someday.
"Hmm~ Hmhm~"
Humming cheerfully, she finished her shower in high spirits.
She tied her butt-length hair back with a ribbon.
Tying it up had become second nature now.
She fetched fresh underwear from the drawer, slipped it on, and opened the wardrobe.
"Let's see, what to wear today……."
Same designs.
Same colors.
A row of identical black robes hung there.
"Pfft!"
The sheer futility of "choosing" one made her burst into a quiet laugh.
"Feeling great today~"
Maybe a sign of breakthrough research ahead.
"Hm?"
The Imperial Palace seemed unusually bustling today.
Maids darted about busily.
The Palace of Life kept only a minimal staff.
Elite maids handpicked to suit the princess's finicky tastes.
Yet today, several unfamiliar faces were among them.
"Good morning."
She headed to the dining hall for breakfast.
"Wow~!"
The table groaned under a feast of mouthwatering dishes.
Breakfast fit for a banquet.
Curious about the spread, she wandered toward the kitchen.
The kitchen rang with the frantic clash of cookware.
"Huh?"
Unfamiliar chefs were hard at work inside.
"Marco!! You moron! You call this food?!"
Damond, the princess's personal chef—usually so mild-mannered—tossed a finished dish into the trash and bellowed.
"Make it again!!"
Standing blankly at the entrance, blinking in shock at this new side of him, their eyes met.
"Miss Withbel, good morning."
"Ugh! I told you not to call me 'miss'…!"
Damond instantly reverted to his usual kindly expression.
During her time in the palace, she'd grown close to a few people.
The knights guarding the Palace of Life.
The maids attending the princess.
And Damond here, who faithfully filled her belly with delicious meals every day.
Their bond ran deep enough for her to wander into the kitchen at will, all thanks to a simple incident.
'So good! I'm in heaven~!'
The princess had been away on duties, leaving her to eat lunch alone.
'Sniff…!!'
Mid-blissful bite, she'd heard muffled sobs from behind and turned.
There was Damond.
He rarely left the kitchen, so it was their first real talk.
'To see someone eat my food with such joy……!!'
Moved by her enthusiasm, he'd granted her "free kitchen access"—not literally, but close enough.
Now, whenever she got snackish, she'd poke her head in with a "Damond, what's for lunch~?" or "Damond, dinner plans~?"
He'd always sneak her a taste, and every time, the flavor was pure magic.
Only one gripe, though.
He kept calling her "miss."
She'd told him straight-up she was originally a man, cursed into this form, but he always forgot.
"Sorry, slipped my mind again."
"Watch it next time."
She pouted, voicing her mild displeasure.
"So, what's the occasion today?"
She scanned the kitchen again.
Ten chefs hustling about.
"You haven't heard?"
She nodded.
Anything yesterday?
She replayed the day.
Pretty ordinary.
Morning curse research, afternoon magic lessons.
The only thing from the princess had been sexual harassment like, "Sir Withbel's butt is so plush, I could use it as a pillow."
Now… she was kinda used to it.
Haha. Hahaha.
She really shouldn't be.
Anyway.
No word from the princess about any events today.
"Today is the regular social tea with the ducal ladies."
"Social tea?"
That princess?
Impossible to picture.
A gaggle of women laughing and chatting demurely.
She squeezed her eyes shut, forcing the image.
The princess surrounded by gorgeous flowers.
The princess's huge hands carelessly stripping their dresses.
A debauched "social" orgy on the bed.
Thud-thud.
Slap-slap.
White nectar bursting from the wilting blooms.
"Uwaaaah!!"
"Eek! Why the scream out of nowhere?"
"Ah… sorry."
These days, the princess conjured just two images.
Ruthlessly cleaving foes with her sword.
And ruthlessly thrusting her massive cock.
Princess in name only—subconsciously, she registered as male.
The feminine form? Only from that first greeting.
Ever since, pure masculine vibes.
Vulgar speech and all, it cemented the image.
Plus, they'd actually gone and done… those things.
"If it's not too much trouble, could you send my meal to the lab?"
"Ah, didn't think of that. Of course—I'll have it delivered at mealtime."
"Thanks."
Looked like the dining hall was reserved for the ladies' gathering.
This was the polite move.
"Sorry for chatting while you're swamped."
"No trouble."
"Catch you later."
She stepped out.
Damond's stern shouts at the chefs followed immediately.
"Gonna hole up in the lab today~"
No.
Library first.
The Imperial Library was a trove of knowledge.
Even grimoires unavailable at the Magic Tower as standard.
A comprehensive archive of worldly lore besides.
She'd visited once, tagging along with the Tower Master.
Five stories of wall-to-wall books.
An ocean of wisdom.
Might snag even a scrap on curses there?
Imperial access required, but.
They'd probably approve.
The palace bent over backward for her convenience.
She was en route to the lab for breakfast—and the library—when.
Rounding a corridor corner, a woman burst out.
"Ah……."
Collision imminent.
The girl sensed it too and squeezed her eyes shut.
"Uwah!!"
Impact.
"Kyaa!!"
Not even a hard bump, yet the woman toppled backward, landing flat on her rear.
"Oww……."
She winced, rubbing her butt.
"Sorry!"
Apology first.
No one's fault.
Inevitable in that split second.
But her dramatic fall made it feel like her error.
She offered a hand.
That said.
Wow…….
How could anyone look like that?
In the best way.
White hair neatly coiled into a prim bun.
Thick lashes framing ruby eyes like a rabbit's.
Round, full-moon face—pure bunny vibes.
A lavish white chiffon dress, bridal in splendor, hugged her slender waist to subtly accent her delicate frame. The flipped hem revealed smooth thighs.
Fairy straight from a storybook, ethereal and enchanting.
"You alright?"
She helped the woman up gently.
"Oh my, since when did the palace start dairy farming?"
The woman cocked her head, innocent eyes locked on her chest.
"Letting cows roam free is downright dangerous."
"Eh?"
"They're so swollen, ready to burst with milk. Better call the dairy hands."
"You talking to me?"
She blinked, pointing at herself.
"Oh. A person?"
This woman had just roasted her deliberately.
"Liar. Grotesque udders like that on a person? Revolting. How on earth does the palace let such a tasteless, vulgar wretch wander its halls unattended?"
Prim diction, poison words.
Wait, no way?
One name sprang to mind from her knowledge.
A ducal lady infamous for her foul mouth despite stunning looks.
"……Ilia von Snowbelt?"
"Oh my, you look dim-witted, yet you know my name? Clever cow. My mistake—you're a person, not livestock? Those massive tits keep fooling me into thinking cow. Sorry."
The villainess ducal lady: endlessly sweet to men, endlessly savage to women.