This is the SFW version of the novel without the smol/l*li stuff (it will nuke this novel). For the NSFW version, please visit my Patreon page: https://www.patreon.com/c/SmallScribble.
In the dim, lamplight-lit confines of her opulent room, Rosalinda's hand was buried deep inside the loincloth she still wore.
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"Ugh!" She grimaced fiercely. "Not that taste!" Anger, bitter and hot, surged through her. She flung the now-discarded loincloth across the room where it landed damply on the intricate rug. "No matter what I do… it just won't taste right! Not like before."
She slammed a fist down onto the floor beside her, the sharp pain momentarily cutting through the haze of lust.
"I've been doing this for days! Since… since that damnable bitch ruined me with that spell!" Tears of frustration welled in her bright green eyes. "I even stole those stupid maids' dirty loinclothes!" She kicked out at the discarded grey scrap of cloth. "Didn't help a bit! They smell all wrong!"
She let her head thunk heavily back against the door, staring up at the shadowed ceiling.
"I need her. That taste… it's burned into my tongue. Into my soul," she groaned, pressing a trembling, still-wet palm hard against her flushed face. "I'll go mad if I don't have it again. I need to find that woman… and make her give me more." Her eyes, once so haughty and defiant, now glittered with a feverish, desperate resolve.
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In a lavish but now utterly defiled suite across the palace, the scene mirrored the Third Princess's in desperation, though differing in method.
Sergeant Ysabel grunted fiercely, straddling her faithful soldier Caelith. The massive double-ended dildo thrust powerfully within their bodies, a slick piston of flesh-toned wooden object.
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With one final, almost tender glance back at Caelith's unconscious form sprawled amidst the soaked ruins of the bed, she murmured, "I'm sorry."
The apology was whispered, weightless in the silence, but it held genuine remorse for dragging Caelith into her mad pursuit of a ghost.
Stepping out of the room, she moved with the easy grace of the veteran soldier she was. The air outside was cool and crisp, a stark contrast to the sweat-drenched heat of their encounter. Soldiers bustled past, averting their eyes respectfully.
Guards stood stiffly at their posts. The barrack grounds were filled with the usual, controlled atmosphere.
"Last day of my leave starts now," she reminded herself, her backpack containing only the most essential provisions: hardtack, dried meat, water, a flint, and a change of clothes.
Her goal was clear, singular – find the source of the spell, or rather, the woman who wielded it. The one who broke something deep inside her with just one taste.
Ysabel strode down the cobbled path leading towards the outer gates. She had barely covered a few meters when a hunched figure caught her peripheral vision.
The person was clad in a simple, dark robe, hood pulled low over their face, skulking awkwardly near a decorative hedge, utterly out of place in the formal grandeur of the palace grounds.
Training took over. In an instant, she was beside the figure, a firm, gauntleted hand clamping down on their shoulder with practiced ease. "Hey you! What are you doing sneaking around here? Show yourself!"
The figure yelped in surprise, stumbling back slightly, but unable to break Ysabel's grip. They attempted a bluff, pitching their voice unconvincingly low and rough. "I-I w-was just avoiding the sun! Bright today, eh?" The forced chuckle was high and nervous, completely at odds with the deep voice attempted.
Ysabel's hazel eyes narrowed. The build… the posture… the slight scent beneath the mustiness of the robe… Impossible. Could it be?
Without hesitation, she shoved the figure roughly towards a dark, narrow alleyway nearby. The hooded figure tripped and scrambled to keep their balance. Ysabel followed swiftly, her heart pounding not just with surprise, but with a strange, electrifying certainty.
In the sudden gloom of the alley, away from prying eyes, Ysabel pushed the figure against the damp stone wall. Her voice was low, urgent. "What are you doing out here princess?"