[Standard Content Warning: This is an ABDL story blog, that means stories on this page contain diapers, diaper usage (like, lots of it), infantilism and the like! In addition, mental and physical manipulation, bondage and nonconsensual or dubiously consensual employment of all of the above themes and many others may also apply. Viewer discretion is advised.]
“Announcing Princess Raine of House Umbra, first chosen of the Witch Queen, aspirant to the Arcane Crown!”
You look around at some of the signage. You make a mental note to tell someone later that your name isn’t spelled with an e.
You spend a great deal of focus as you walk out in front of the crowd making sure you’re doing so correctly, one small step after another. You’ve spent the last several weeks practicing this. One-two-three-four-five small steps. Stop. Raise your left hand. Make sure your glove is on straight. Wave to the crowd. Then one-two-three-four-five more steps. You stop at your place. You grab the edges of your dress and pull them up, ducking down in a curtsy you spent days practicing in front of the mirror over and over.
Somewhere in your mind, you’re aware they probably would’ve applauded even if you’d tripped and fallen flat on your face, as long as you got back up after, but, hearing them clap still feels nice. It occurs to you that this is the most people that have ever paid attention to you at one time.
Excepting one time you robbed that baron, of course, but that was a different kind of attention.
You look among those applauding for you, all of these newly appointed lords, ladies and the common folk that have been increasingly settling near the tower. You also recognize the inhabitants of the tower, the Queensguard (Madris is clapping and cheering the most enthusiastically, earning her a side-eye from Dame Commander Artemis), the spellcrafters, the guards, the servants. After coming to consider this tower your home and getting to know all of them the last few weeks, seeing them happy for you fills your stomach with a buzzing, airy feeling you don’t know how to fully articulate.
And then, you turn your head and look back. Sitting in the throne at the back of the room is her.
From your target to your jailer to your judge to your savior to…you’re not sure what, now. Your caretaker? Your teacher?
One way or another, your Queen. The Witch Queen. She’s clapping in a sedate, dignified way, but you can tell from the look in her eyes, she knows how much effort you put into preparing for this, you can feel the pride coming from her. More than anybody else, that reaction matters the most to you.
You wave to her. She blows you a kiss.
Everybody admires you for a few more minutes. Then, you take one-two-three-four-five-six-seven practiced steps towards your seat. After that, the Queen stands, makes a few more announcements that mostly go in one of your ears and out the other. Raising some new lords, discussing expansion to the tower and the surrounding area. You’re just beyond relieved you didn’t make a fool of yourself.
Once the announcements are done and the Queen encourages everybody to enjoy the celebration, you sink back into your chair, glad the part where attention is on you is over now. You think about just staying here or maybe even sneaking off, but you know you’re expected to socialize at least a little bit. One thing that’s been stressed to you over the past few weeks of getting ready for this is that as princess, you represent the crown. So you might as well be present.
Also, now that the stressful part is over, it’s sunk in how hungry you are and the food on that long table on the other side of the throne room is looking really good right now. You look at the Queen - she’s still sat at her throne dutifully listening to some lord bending her ear about this and that. So you just get up and walk over. You can feel half of the Queensguard’s eyes on you as you go. That’s been one of the hardest things to get used to. When people who serve nobility and carry swords have their attention on you, it’s usually been because they wanted to visit some flavor of violence upon your person. Logically, it makes sense that now you are one of those nobles and they’re keeping such a close eye on you to protect you, but it’s still taking time to adjust.
Sneaking around and remaining unseen isn’t as easy anymore either, due to multiple factors, one being your new title inherently inviting attention and the other being your new footwear. Just walking in these fancy high heeled shoes without stumbling all over the place is difficult. And forget sneaking, the way the heels make noise on the ground is a constant announcement of your presence. But you manage to make it to the table without much more than a few hellos, thank you for comings and so on and your eyes immediately go to….the sweets.
“H-hello?”
You’re sampling (more like wolfing down) the tarts when you realize someone is addressing you. You look over with a tart still half in your mouth to see a girl in a turquoise dress not unlike yours (yours is purple and gold, matching the colors of the Queen’s banner), wearing large spectacles. You don’t recognize her and from her style of dress, she’s not one of the common folk. She must be one of the nobles who came for the celebration. You instantly try to affect the Noble Tongue you’ve been trying to learn the past few months.
“Hello, ah,” you immediately stumble as you try to remember how to ask for someone’s name, before coming up with, “I don’t believe I’d had the pleasure, Lady…”
“B-Bernadette. Bernadette of House Cloven,” she says with a couple nods and makes an awkward curtsy, you get the feeling at some point in the last couple weeks, you were both standing in front of a mirror trying to figure that out at about the same time. You smile at her.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Bernadette. How can I help you?” You ask, again, trying to be as congenial and princessly as possible. It helps a bit that you think this girl may be the only person here who is more anxious about all this than you.
“W-well, and uhm, thank you for speaking to me, I just uhm, wanted to ask-”
“Hey hey hey hey hey HEY!”
A girl walks up and bumps her hip into Bernadette and for a second you’re afraid she’s gonna go flying over the table and land on the other side of the room.
“I tell you I’m lookin’ for the princess and you go and try to horn in on her first?! What’s your problem, Bernie?!” You squint at this……individual. Her red hair is done up and her red dress is as finely made as yours and Bernadette’s, so you’re pretty sure this is also a noble, but she seems much less concerned with the airs than the two of you.
“I was finding her for both of us, I swear!” Bernadette squeaks, holding up her hands defensively.
“We had just started talking - who….are you?” You ask.
“Oh. Uh, yeah. Sabine Grimwood. House Grimwood.” She ducks down in a very half-hearted manner and you instantly know she wasn’t practicing anything in the mirror. You’re guessing she doesn’t care if people think her curtsying sucks and to be honest, you kind of envy her for that. “The Queen up there made my dad a lord, so I guess I’m a fancy lady now or somethin’ thanks to her, so. Thanks. I guess.” You’re pretty sure that name is familiar, so you think what she’s saying is accurate.
“Lady Cloven chose me to join her house….” Bernadette says. “We were just talking about….”
“Yeah, yeah,” Sabine nods. “We were talkin’ about how the Queen ain’t gonna get married to some lord and have a kid to be her heir, she just picked someone and she’s gonna raise them to be the next Witch Queen, now other nobles are doin’ it too!” She grins at you. “They were sayin’ all sortsa cool rumors about you, too.”
“Rum…ors….” You stammer out and try not to let the little burst of anxiety you feel show on your face. “Like…what?”
“Like you were some awesome swordswoman who slayed a hundred men! C’mon, lemme see your hands. You got sword-swingin’ hands, right?” Sabine asks.
“I heard you must’ve been an incredible witch for the Witch Queen to choose you…” Bernadette says as you try to fend Sabine off from taking your gloves off so she can inspect your hands.
“Stop - stop - cut it out!” And before you know it, the two of you have devolved into slapping at each other’s hands. You both stop when you hear people chuckling at the display of two young noble ladies daintily whapping at each other. You look around and…you let out a little huff and gesture away from the table and the crowd. The two girls share a look and then follow you to a more quiet corner of the throne room.
“It’s…true. I’m not related to the Queen by blood. She chose me and named me princess,” you say. That part’s not really a secret, it’s part of your title and all.
“Wow…” Bernie adjusts her glasses. “So are you gonna be Queen someday?”
“I’m not sure about that part?” you admit. “Everything has happened kind of fast. I’ve only been living here for a few weeks.” You don’t know a lot about succession, especially in a case as unique as yours, but your title also has the word ‘aspirant’ in it, so you don’t think you’re confirmed one way or another to be next in line to the throne?
“Heeeeh.” Sabine grins. “So which is it, huh? What were you doin’ when she picked you, were you a swordmaster or a witch?”
“It was a witch, right?” Bernadette asks.
“It was definitely a swordmaster!”
“Uhm. Well. I’m still working on the basics of magic and I’m learning about swords but I usually just used a club before.” You look around and lower your voice. “Can you two keep a secret?”
“H-how big of a secret?” Bernadette asks nervously and Sabine instantly shoves a hand over her mouth.
“Yeah, we’re good, we can keep it, vault’s sealed, what’s the secret! Come on, come on, give us the goods!” She urges. You look around again and lean in, so only they can hear you.
“I was a thief. I tried to steal from the Queen.” Both of them looked confused for a moment. You shrug your shoulders. “She was impressed with how far I got, I guess? So she took me in.”
They stare at you for a second, their mouths open.
“That’s so badass!” Sabine says, loud at first, then she quickly lowers her voice again. “Did y’stab anybody?!”
“Wh - no, I just said, I used a club!”
“Did ya clonk anybody?!”
“No, I - well. Yes.” You rub your arm. Of all the parts of your misadventures, that’s the one you spent the most time apologizing for. “I knocked out a spellcrafter when I broke into the spell workshop.”
“Aheheheheheheheh, that’s awesome,” Sabine says.
“I thought thieves got thrown in dungeons or…” Bernadette shivers and tucks her hands into her sleeves. “Lost their hands…!”
“You musta been like, the greatest thief ever to impress the Queen like that.”
“Were you the kind of thief that stole from the rich and gave to the poor?!” Bernadette suddenly asks, her eyes lighting up. Ah. There’s that ‘dashing rogue’ thing again.
“Uh, maybe, sometimes?” You say. “Most of it just I spent on boo--” You stop and clear your throat. ‘Booze’ isn’t a very noble word. “I mostly spent it on. Short-term pleasures.”
“Hahaha, most nobles who caught a thief really would give ‘em the ol’-” Sabine grabs Bernadette’s arm and takes a chop at her wrist, getting a squeak out of her. “The Witch Queen really is one of a kind…” You nod in agreement. She definitely is that. “So I guess none of us have been doin’ this noble lady thing for that long, huh?”
“No,” you laugh and shake your head. “Definitely not. A few weeks ago, my biggest concern was stealing jewelry, now I’m learning how to talk like a princess and become a witch.”
“I just studied whatever magic books I could find back in my old village, I never expected a noble lady to care, muchless invite me into her house…” Bernadette says, rubbing her hands on her head.
“Yeaaah.” Sabine huffs. “My old man’s been practicin’ magic his whole life, but. He never expected somebody’d make him a lord for it.” She gestures at the three of you. “My dad says I should be making friends with other nobles, so maybe we should, ah. Figure this whole thing out together?” You and Bernadette look at each other…and you both nod. Sabine grins and you see a slight blush. Despite her exterior, you get the feeling she’s got her own share of nerves about all of this too. You think you’re starting to like her a bit.
“Oh - before we go any further, though, there’s somebody I have to speak to,” you say, remembering something important. You can tell they’re both going to want details, so before they ask, you explain. “It’s a bit complicated, but — basically, the person who introduced me to the Witch Queen. Kind of.”
“Who was that?” Sabine asks.
“She’s a noble from another kingdom,” you say. A small smile crawls over your face. “Her name is Princess Giulia.”
“Wait - you knew another princess before you met the Witch Queen and became a princess?” Bernadette exclaims. You let out a single laugh and give a bashful little nod.
“Your life is like a freakin’ book!” Sabine says, sounding even more impressed.
“It does all sound kind of extraordinary when you lay it all out….” You admit. You pull out an envelope, sealed with your new house’s crest. “Unfortunately, she couldn’t make it today, she’s fallen ill. So I wrote this letter and just wanted to make sure she gets it.”
“Who’re you gonna give it to?” Sabine asks.
“Well, I think her father, the King came for the ceremony, I heard he actually knows the Witch Queen,” you explain. “I was going to ask her if she could point him out to me so I could give him the letter…” You look around.
“Um.” Bernadette waves a hand to get your attention. “Is…that him?” She asks and points in the direction of the throne….
“MAY, YOU OLD SO-AND-SO!”
A very large man wearing a silver crown has approached the throne. Your Queen looks…nervous about his presence.
“Wait, wait, Boris - Boris, we’ve talked about this—!” Your Queen is looking at her Queensguard, who are watching all of this and not moving a muscle to get involved. You’re pretty sure Artemis is trying to hide a smile.
“I’M JUST SO HAPPY FOR YOU, MAY! I THOUGHT YOU WERE NEVER GOING TO GET ONE OF YOUR OWN, COME HERE!”
“Boris, I’m glad you came, but, please, no hugs, my back can’t - AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!”
All three of you wince. Now, the Commander of the Queensguard, Artemis, steps forward and starts prying the King off of your Queen, who looks like her soul has momentarily exited her body.
“Madris, get a spellnurse,” she commands. Madris grimaces, nods, and walks away.
—
“So, you used to know Giulia’s father?”
“Mmmrph.”
The ceremony and the accompanying celebration would continue for several hours more, with spellnurses knitting the Queen’s spine back into place only putting a momentary damper on the proceedings. But eventually, things did come to an end. You gave King Boris the letter for Princess Giulia (managing to avoid a back-cracking hug of your own in the process), spent more time with Sabine and Bernadette, introduced yourself to a few more lords and ladies and generally did your best to do your Princessly Duties. But now, finally, you have a moment to speak to your Queen in private. The two of you are in the garden, a recent addition to the area around the tower. Workers are busy planting flowers that were brought to the ceremony as gifts as the two of you walk by.
“We fought side-by-side a long time ago,” she huffs. “He’s a good man and a good friend, just a little too…”
“Enthusiastic?” You offer with a laugh.
“Indeed,” she says with a grumpy growl as she rubs the small of her back. She looks at you. “You looked as if you were enjoying yourself.”
“I…I did,” you say. “I met some people who are in similar situations to me.”
“Good,” your Queen says. “A lot of changes are being made. People finding themselves in positions they didn’t expect as our kingdom finds its footing. I’m glad you’re making connections. It is proper for a princess.”
“Mmn,” You murmur. You look down. “Can I ask you something?”
“You just did,” the Queen says. You pause and let out a huff. She chuckles and waves a hand. “Ask, my Princess.”
“I just want to — why did you make me a princess?” You ask. She looks at you for a second like she doesn’t understand the question.
“I thought you already knew that,” she says. You’ve just been going with the flow the past few weeks, so you guess it just never occurred to you to ask. “A Queen needs an heir, to ensure stability. I decided to find somebody I thought would make an excellent witch and teach them.” That’s what you thought, but, it still doesn’t make sense.
“I’m not a witch, though,” you said. You think about Bernadette and Sabine, who may be new to a life of nobility, but have been studying magic or been around it their entire lives. Relatively… “I can’t cast any magic without tools, I told you, when I broke into the tower, I just used pre-prepared spells.” The Queen waves a dismissive hand.
“Raw magical power is only one aspect of a witch’s true ability,” she says matter-of-factly. “I picked you because of your ingenuity, your courage, your determination. You have many admirable qualities, Rain, you just haven’t been afforded the opportunity to utilize them properly.” You don’t know about admirable qualities, particularly courage, but you guess your Queen must be a good judge of character, or she wouldn’t have become a Queen.
“So, does that make me your heir?” You ask. “Am I going to be Witch Queen some day?”
“As of right now, you are an aspirant,” she explains. “You are not my heir and you may not be the only candidate - in time, we may take in other princes or princesses.” Again, your mind travels to Bernadette and Sabine. “But you have the advantage of being the first. If you study hard and take all of your duties seriously, I may one day name you next in line to become Witch Queen.” That’s about what you thought the situation was. But you’re still not sure if it makes sense to you.
“Well, how can I be a witch if I can’t cast magic and how can I become your heir if we’re not related by blood?” You ask. You understand that she chose you, but you still thought the rules of succession were pretty clear that you had to be related by blood to succeed someone.
“You can and will be able to utilize magical aptitude of your own, in time. Entirely of your own body. There is mana within you that’s never been awakened. You remember the mana infusions I’ve been giving you?” She asks.
“They’re hard to forget…” She rubs her arm.
“Mmn.” She looks away, her tone becoming a bit apologetic. “We’re trying to work out the side-effects. We believe we’ve made some promising progress. But the reason they’re important is twofold. Not only will my mana awaken yours and awaken your latent magical ability, but if our mana fully combines, the power of the Queensblood will awaken within you. It’ll be the same as if we were related by blood.”
You stop when you hear that. She walks forward a few more steps, then stops and looks back at you. You put a hand to your heart, thinking about that. You look up at her, a nervous question leaving your lips.
“Does that make us.” You stop. Then you bite your lip and force yourself to finish the question, “Does that make us a parent and a child?” A smile comes to the Queen’s face.
“That’s up to you, of course,” she says, again, very matter-of-fact. “Do you feel that way about us?” You look away and rub your arm.
“I’m not sure yet.” The Queen nods.
“We’re not in any rush. All of these things will take time, and you can take your time deciding.”
“…yeah.” You nod. “Yeah. I understand.” You start walking again, following after her. “Hey, if you don’t actually have an heir right now, what happens to the throne if something.” You grimace. “Happens to you? Like, if a stone comes loose and falls on your head?” The Queen chuckles.
“Both you and I have a numberl of passive charms around us at all times, meant to protect from unforeseen physical harm, so if you’ve found yourself spending a lot of time warily staring at the ceiling, looking for loose stones, you can relax.” But she understands the point of your question and continues. “If I were to pass unexpectedly before naming an heir, Commander Artemis will be named Protector of the Realm. The decision of who is next to hold the Arcane Crown will be hers and she will sit the throne and rule until that person is ready. She’s already my closest adviser in this manner. She has very clear instructions on what to do if the responsibility falls to her and a large quantity of my mana has been saved and kept in storage.”
Of course, she’s already had a plan figured out for a while. You don’t know why you expected anything less.
“Okay,” you say with a nod. You still don’t want to think about anything happening to your Queen, but, you’re glad there’s a plan in place, you guess.
“So if you want to increase your chances, she’s the one I would start kissing up to,” she says playfully. You huff.
“Kissing up has never been my strong suit.”
As the conversation shifts and you start talking about other things, like the ceremony, your mind goes backwards in the conversation a bit and you find yourself wondering.
What would it be like if you considered the Queen your mother?
You’re still thinking about it when you retire to your own bedchamber.
Then, rather abruptly, you’re thinking about something else. You wince and try to pull up your dress, but it’s too late. You whimper as you feel warmth building between your legs. Resigned to your fate, you stand there and let it finish. When it does, you take several dainty, careful steps, wincing as you feel the wet feeling rubbing between your legs. You make it to a seemingly nondescript place in the wall and give it a few knocks. A few seconds later, the wall opens up and Madris is standing there.
There are some advantages to having your chamber right next to the Queensguard’s chamber.
“Good evening, Princess Rain!” She says cheerily. She sees the expression on your face and then grimaces. “Ahhh. Happened again, huh?”
“It’s gotta be those damn mana infusions…!” You grumble, your properly practiced noble tongue fading entirely in her presence. “I just don’t have any warning when it’s about to happen anymore.” Madris hikes up your dress and your petticoats, then pulls down your bloomers. She looks at your panties, then squints at you.
“This enchantment is almost about to give out, Princess,” she says. “This isn’t your first accident today, is it?”
“I…!” You start blushing. “People kept wantin’ to talk t’me during the celebration! I felt a little come out - I thought it was just a little!”
“I know, I know…!” Madris says. “But I keep telling you, Princess, if we want to keep this a secret, it’s easier to enchant something a little thicker to be hidden than it is to enchant somethin’ this thin to be able to take a whole day of you leaking in them…”
“Madris, you’re talking about…” Your blush gets fiercer. “You’re talking about diapers!”
“Not-not necessarily!” Madris waves her hands defensively. “Maybe just something a little stronger than--”
“I’m not wearing diapers!” You say, stomping your foot defiantly. Madris can tell she’s wounded your pride and knows better than to push it, so she surrenders.
“You’re right. You’re right, Princess,” she says and puts a hand on your shoulder. “C’mon, let’s change into some clean underwear and a nightgown and get a new enchantment on so you can get to bed.”
“Mmmph….” You have to admit, right after vehemently denying that you need diapers, the phrase ‘change into some new underwear’ doesn’t exactly fill you with confidence. You really hope your Queen was right about figuring out those side effects.
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