6. Omen (6)
6. Omen (6)
—Your Highness, it's Dorothy.
"······Come in."
A little time passed.
Honestly, I was already in a perfectly good mood.
However, remembering that I had gotten angry for no reason, I continued to feign a cold demeanor.
Dorothy, who likely remembered my state before she left the room, simply bowed her head without saying or doing anything else.
"······What is it?"
"Um, I was wondering if you might be hungry······."
Had it gotten that late already?
Come to think of it, the time one could reasonably call "morning" had long since passed.
Normally, slacking off like this would have been unacceptable.
By now, I would have been handling official business while eating,
or, using the excuse of needing some fresh air, postponing my duties to practice swordsmanship.
In that regard, this was somewhat nice.
It had been so long since I'd last slacked off.
It had also been a very long time since I'd last lounged around in bed until lunch.
So, I had planned to have my meals in this room if possible—but,
"To make an appearance for the people in the castle as well, shall we go to the dining hall?"
"··········Hmm."
At Dorothy's words, I had no choice but to bid farewell to my bed.
Seeing my actions, Dorothy proactively brought over the garments.
She really was an incredibly useful secretary.
"······Turn around."
"······Pardon?"
Dorothy expressed confusion, but I also didn't react at all until she had turned around.
Finally seeming to understand my intention, Dorothy turned her body away.
Having thus blocked the view of my only spectator, I took out the undergarments from the clothes Dorothy had brought.
After double-checking that Dorothy wasn't looking, I bent over and put on the panties first.
—Swish, swish.
'······Ugh.'
Were the undergarments an imperial princess wore always this small in area?
Or was it, out of necessity, that my hips and buttocks were excessively large?
Once I had pulled the panty strings all the way up and they settled on my hips, the fabric area was laughably small compared to men's undergarments.
There were no loose parts, no areas with any give.
They clung precisely to the lines of my skin, like wet cotton thread.
And the clinginess of the fabric, which felt particularly and subtly unpleasant.
That front part··· and the back part—both seemed to cling too tightly, making me unnecessarily self-conscious.
But I supposed women's undergarments were just like that.
I picked up the next undergarment.
In the slang often used by men,
it was probably called a,
Breast Cover.
That was likely its name.
####
"·····Eek, eet."
'·········?'
Following Her Highness's request, as she held an extreme aversion to showing bare skin, Dorothy had turned her back and was listening intently with her ears wide open.
They were clearly both women, and she had worn undergarments her whole life too.
Yet, for some reason, the sound of skin friction as Her Highness pulled up her lower undergarment struck her ears so loudly.
Was it because when sight was removed, hearing became the next most focused sense?
Into her ears, which she had opened wide to somehow absorb the information from the sounds behind her, strange noises began to filter in.
"·····Ught, Eek···!"
Wondering why such sounds were coming from Her Highness, she turned her head just a tiny bit, careful not to be noticed, to shift her gaze.
'Wa, wawaa·····!'
There, she saw Her Highness struggling with a massive mound of breast that she dared not approach.
And the reason Her Highness was so uncomfortable was none other than the women's top undergarment, the brassiere.
'··········Gulp.'
Dorothy felt an immense impulse upon seeing that sight.
Why was that?
Clearly, that person was Her Highness, the imperial princess of this nation, whom someone like her should not dare to approach.
And she was merely the personal maid who was to silently assist such a princess.
So why did her heart race so fiercely every time she saw Her Highness?
Why was it that every time she faced Her Highness's jade-like body, she found herself imagining wantonly tormenting that skin with her own hands···—
"—Hic?!"
Dorothy shook her head vigorously, trying hard to erase the imagination clouding her mind.
But even by her own assessment, given the overly static life she had lived until now, such temptation was hard to resist.
"Yo, Your Highness···, if it is not impertinent, m-may this lowly one assist you·····?"
"··········Ugh, hmm."
In truth, Dorothy had asked the question prepared to be struck.
But it seemed Her Highness herself had realized she couldn't manage the large breasts and fasten the bra alone, and so she slightly turned her body.
Dorothy understood the meaning.
Since Her Highness turned her body, she wouldn't see, right?
With that thought, Dorothy was smiling, unable to hide it.
"I, I shall be impudent then·····."
Dorothy approached the princess.
For some reason, even though they were both women, the easily embarrassed princess was covering her chest with her hands, the bra draped over them.
And then Dorothy saw it.
The full-length mirror on the dressing table, positioned diagonally from them.
The mirror was reflecting their figures.
That meant that the front view Her Highness was trying so hard to hide was entirely visible to Dorothy.
—Rustle.
She arranged Her Highness's hair to ensure it didn't get caught in the bra straps.
At that moment, the scent of the princess's hair that entered Dorothy's nose, and the sticky, thick body odor emanating from the nape of her neck, made Dorothy's head spin momentarily.
"I, I will fasten it now."
Was it a pity?
Or rather, was it a relief?
Bras made for women with large breasts like Her Highness typically had hooks between the cups as well.
The hook she had just fastened was the one on the back, so presumably the front hook was for Her Highness to fasten herself—
"·····Hmm, i-is it like this···."
At that moment.
What entered Dorothy's sight was the reflection in the mirror of Her Highness's cute, petite, and still un-discolored pink areola and nipple.
Seeing that, Dorothy thought.
'Ahh···.'
····I want to bite into that beautiful fruit·····.
I wonder what kind of melody would come from the pretty princess's voice then···—
"·····Hah."
In that instant, she realized what kind of imagination she had just indulged in.
Dorothy forced her smile away.
She was happy.
And simultaneously, an impulse surged.
But she restrained it.
If she couldn't control that impulse, her head would surely roll.
There was plenty of time anyway.
From now on, she would continue to serve by Her Highness's side during dressing, pre-sleep care, bathing, and makeup.
"Ugh, it's a bit tight······."
"I, I gott—Eet. I will instruct them to tailor undergarments that fit Your Highness perfectly."
Driven by the perverse desire to see it again, Dorothy bit her tongue mid-sentence but spoke as if nothing was wrong.
Naturally unaware of these inner thoughts, Jaina (who thought it was one-sided kindness) did not refuse.
"·····W, well. Thank you······."
"··········Hueet!"
"·····?"
Dorothy felt it for the first time in her life.
The sensation of being so happy upon receiving praise from her master that she felt like she could fly.
Was this how Teacher Cassandra felt all the time?
It was like she had become a dog.
A dog whose world consisted only of its master,
who wags its tail and runs upon seeing its master,
a loyal dog so devoted that merely receiving praise or a head pat from its master made it ready to lay down its life.
Overjoyed, Dorothy began thinking of today's special coordination for Her Highness.
She wanted her master, Princess Jaina, to be revered, almost deified, among the lower ranks.
And the first among those lower ranks who revered the princess was Dorothy herself.
####
"·····We greet Her Highness."
"We greet Her Highness-!"
What should I say.
Everyone already knew my face.
I had somewhat expected that His Majesty the Emperor would have spoken beforehand, but this was on another level—it seemed like they all already knew.
Of course, I already knew them too, as I had seen them all while living as the prince.
Anyway, following Dorothy's guidance, I sat not in my usual seat···—but in the seat one over.
Well.
That seat was the one used by me, the prince, so it was a seat the me now, acting as a princess, could not occupy.
"··········."
As I sat waiting for the food to be served, I couldn't help but notice certain things.
Especially since the gazes directed at my face were so intense they felt prickly.
"My face feels prickly."
"M-my apologies, Your Highness···! I will have them look away immediate·····!"
"It's fine."
It wasn't actually that uncomfortable.
I saw these faces every time I came for meals, so they were familiar, and the admiring gazes directed at me weren't entirely bad.
Probably because there was no ill intent in the looks they gave me.
The gazes they directed at me were all like this.
Loyalty.
Admiration.
And anticipation.
It was a strange sensation how the gazes I received from people I knew could change overnight, just because my body had changed.
—Pfft.
Since the gazes they sent were this heated,
I might get indigestion even while eating.
—Screech.
"Yo, Your Highness···?"
As I pushed my chair back and stood up, surprise and concern showed on Dorothy's face.
In Dorothy's imagination, I was probably oppressing them for their prickly gazes, perhaps even raising a hand.
Well, I had absolutely no intention of actually doing that.