Endure It, Your Majesty. My Chest Feels Like It's Going to Kill Me Too

I gritted my teeth. Endure it. Just endure it. My own chest felt so heavy right now that I thought I might actually die. This had been hell since the crack of dawn.

The maids' hands moved in a frantic blur. Five women swarmed around my body, working in perfect sync. The room was thick with the cloying scent of rose oil—so heavy it felt like it was choking the air out of my lungs. To a man like me, who'd spent his teens rolling around in the brutal mercenary world before being scouted as a royal guard, this perfume was nothing short of toxic gas. It was a far cry from the comforting smells of dirt and blood.

The soft silk nightgown slid off with a whisper, and cool air kissed my bare skin. Thin strips of fabric slipped from my shoulders down to my waist. Goosebumps erupted across my overly sensitive flesh. Just the brush of cloth had every nerve in my body standing on edge. Is being a woman always this exhausting?

"Hngh…!"

I instinctively crossed my arms over my chest and hunched forward. The pathetic little squeak that escaped me had nothing to do with my will. Even my voice sounded like a damn nightingale, which made my skin crawl. As I hastily covered my front, two heavy, cumbersome lumps of fat squished against my forearms. The soft, squishy sensation turned my brain completely white.

Fuck. This was my body, yet here I was, touching it and getting startled by it. Every hair on my body stood on end.

I was a hot-blooded twenty-year-old man in his prime—one of the manliest of men. The humiliation of standing naked in front of several women made my face burn like a ripe tomato. Being stripped bare while multiple pairs of female eyes roamed over me was pure torture.

The maids, however, casually wiped down every inch of my naked body without a hint of embarrassment. Every time a damp towel brushed the inside of my thighs, my hips twitched violently. I was losing my goddamn mind. I wanted to scream, What the hell are you doing, you crazy bitches?! but I barely managed to bite my lip and hold it in. If I opened my mouth, a torrent of thick curses would probably spill out. I clenched my jaw so hard it felt like it might lock up. My fists were balled tight, and my eyes stared blankly into empty space.

That was when the head maid, Margareta, approached me. Pretending to gently wrap an arm around my shoulders so the other maids wouldn't notice, she leaned in until her lips were right next to my ear.

Her voice was as cold as ice. The breath brushing against my nape sent chills down my spine. At the same time, the hand pinching my side showed zero mercy.

My skin was so soft and delicate that even a slight twist sent sharp pain shooting through me. It hurt. It hurt like hell. What kind of skin was this—more fragile than a goddamn sunfish? The pinch from this auntie hurt more than an arrow grazing me in actual combat. This cursed princess's body seemed to have zero concept of defense.

When I flinched, Margareta kept her gentle smile perfectly in place while mercilessly driving more facts into my ear.

Her chilling threat sent cold sweat trickling down my back. The King's terrifying order to turn my comrades into crow food flashed through my mind. He had said that if I so much as scratched the real princess's body or let my identity slip, he would tear me limb from limb. She was right.

Princess Celestia was a second-year student at the Academy, where children of the Empire's prestigious nobles and neighboring royalty gathered. That place was the heart of high ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠society—far more terrifying than any battlefield. And in that den crawling with hot-blooded royals and noble sons and daughters from across the continent, I—a crude, rough man—had to play the part of a beautiful young princess!

It would be a hundred times easier to be thrown naked into an orc village.

"We will now tighten the corset, Your Highness."

Two maids latched onto my back like leeches. They looked exactly like executioners preparing to carry out a sentence. The thick leather straps in their hands gleamed ominously.

"Please hold your breath!"

Zrrrrrip!

The straps were yanked without mercy. My lungs were instantly crushed. Stars exploded before my eyes. It felt like my stomach was trying to climb up my throat. My ribs caved inward as my organs surged upward under the horrific pressure. The pain that slammed through my entire body felt like my spine was being snapped in half. It hurt three times more than taking a direct hit to the solar plexus from an orc chieftain's club.

This was torture. This was a legal assassination attempt. What kind of lunatic invented a machine that squeezed a human body like this and called it clothing? There wasn't even space left in my lungs for air. My face was turning blue.

"Kuhk! Fuck… my… ribs are gonna…!"

In the face of mortal danger, I let out a beastly groan. A vulgar curse was about to fly out of my mouth.

"Oh my! Did you just say… say something, Your Highness?"

One of the innocent-looking maids asked with wide eyes. Her hands were still mercilessly wrenching the corset strings tight. You demonic witch.

"I-I said it's refreshing! Ah, you're tightening it so wonderfully…!"

I bit my lip hard and forced an elegant smile. The muscles in my face trembled. Cold sweat trickled down my cheeks. Inside, I was hurling every curse I knew, but on the outside, I kept my mouth tightly shut. Remembering the King's threat to chop off my head if I failed, I had no choice but to endure even this shitty corset torture.

Just endure it. A countship. Gold. Once this madness is over, a life of luxury awaits where I can live like a king with my brothers forever.

A few broken ribs? I could handle that.

"There, all done! Your waist is even more slender than usual today, Your Highness!"

At the maid's cheerful voice, I barely managed to nod. Every breath made my ribcage throb.

"You've all worked hard. You may leave now."

At Margareta's command, the maids ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠bowed politely and filed out of the room. The rustle of their dresses faded along with their footsteps. The iron door closed, leaving just the two of us in the room.

Bang!

The door flew open again as a massive shadow stepped inside. The air in the room suddenly grew heavy. A towering figure over 190 centimeters tall, muscles practically bursting through silver armor, with a massive longsword strapped to his waist. A rugged, scarred jawline. It was my original body.

No matter how many times I saw that vicious face, I couldn't get used to it. Was I really walking around looking like that? I hadn't realized it back when I rarely bothered looking in mirrors. Seeing my old self from an outsider's perspective, it was basically a walking weapon. If I ran into someone like that in a dark alley, I'd probably piss my pants before I could even reach for my wallet.

"Um… Sir Knight… I mean, Your Highness. Did you sleep well?"

It was my own gravelly voice, yet the tone was strangely cautious and demure. The hulking man clasped his hands politely in front of him and gave a shy greeting. Seeing that massive frame shrinking in on itself and acting all timid was surreal. A rugged, bandit-looking ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠man with a thick beard was blushing and fidgeting with his toes.

It was the real Princess Celestia inside my body. I was going insane. This cognitive dissonance felt like it was damaging my eyesight. It was fucking disgusting. My once-reliable body was acting all girly. I wanted to bite my tongue off. I felt like running over and punching that hideous face right then and there.

"Uh… Your Highness… Ah, Sir Knight… Ugh, I'm getting confused."

I forced the words out. The thin, sweet voice of a beautiful girl flowing from my own mouth still gave me goosebumps. Having the real princess wear my body and pretend to be my guard was the safest way to keep the two of us together.

"Yes. But this body is just… so big and hot. I sweat a lot and it smells, too. Still, it's fascinating how much strength it has. These firm pectorals and veiny forearms… It's truly a magnificent—no, a splendid physique."

The princess poked and prodded at my thick forearm with curious fingers, secretly licking her lips. The way she looked unfamiliar with her own body, those sparkling eyes set in that brutish male face—it made my stomach turn.

"But when I woke up this morning, something down in my pants felt really strange…"

The real princess rubbed between my body's legs with a pitiful expression. My heart sank like a stone. No. Don't touch that. Don't squeeze my precious manhood with that pathetic look on your face. Just because you're making a sad face doesn't mean my junior down there is going to shrink!

"It kept getting strangely stiff and swollen, which was quite confusing."

"Don't touch that! You're not supposed to fiddle with it like that!"

I jumped in panic, completely forgetting about the corset crushing my lungs, and shrieked. I did not want to hear ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠a detailed report about my morning wood coming from the real princess's mouth. Having that rough voice describe my private physiological reactions was enough to make my head explode from sheer humiliation.

The princess flinched and quickly pulled her hand away. A princess who'd been raised like a delicate flower in a greenhouse could never handle the healthy morning tent of a twenty-year-old man.

"S-sorry. It's so heavy to carry around… it's difficult."

"Endure it. My chest feels like it's going to kill me too," I snapped, thumping my chest in irritation. The heavy bounce that followed was transmitted perfectly. The weight I felt through the thin silk dress was no joke. It was ridiculously huge. No wonder this body had a short lifespan from the strain on the waist. The constant jiggling was driving me crazy. Just walking down stairs made it bounce up and down so much that it was hard to even keep my balance.

"Ahem. Both of you, please conduct yourselves with dignity."

Margareta pinched the bridge of her nose and let out a deep sigh. Her eyes were filled with the kind of disgust one might show toward pathetic trash.

"And for heaven's sake, fix your postures. From the outside, it looks like Her Highness is standing with her legs spread like a man, while the guard is shyly twisting his body like a maiden. It's making my eyes rot."

At her brutal dose of reality, both the princess and I flinched and hurriedly corrected our stances. I quickly closed my spread legs. The princess untwisted hers and forced her shoulders back. I couldn't argue. Even I had to admit the sight was nauseating. To anyone who didn't know our souls had been swapped, it would look like two lunatics putting on a ridiculous comedy act.

In front of the full-length mirror, I was rendered speechless by my reflection. The figure staring back didn't seem like a real person. An impossibly slender waist that looked like it might snap at any moment—that miraculous curve was the result of the corset's merciless squeeze. Above it, the two heavy breasts pushed up by the corset, swollen to the point of bursting, as if they had gathered every ounce of soul in the body. The sky-blue silk dress with its dizzyingly deep cleavage blatantly emphasized those voluptuous lines.

Beneath the lustrous silver-gold hair were lips like red cherries and large, sparkling eyes. The way that cleavage swayed with every breath created the perfect image of an absolute beauty that would make any man's blood rush south. She was insanely beautiful.

And that beauty was me.

The face of a goddess, but the eyes held the murderous glare of someone ready to slaughter a man. Deep wrinkles furrowed that delicate brow. Inside was the rough soul of a twenty-year-old macho mercenary, yet the outside was a sensual beauty. How the hell was I supposed to endure this horrific gap? The cognitive dissonance was going to drive me completely insane.