Parasite Princess

As the new maid walks into my bedchamber, I can tell father hasn’t told her. Her hands are still, and no fear marks her porcelain face. Her red-lipped smile is as innocent as a child’s, and she steps up to my mattress at a pace that is neither rushed nor cautious.

“My absolute greatest pleasure to meet you, your highness.”

“Ada is fine.”

“Now, I can’t go around calling you that, now can I, your highness? I mean, what would his majesty say?”

“Father won’t mind. He lets me do as I please, after all. Will you call me Ada? It is so rare that I hear my own name… even Father chooses only to call me “Princess” or “Daughter…”

“Hm. Well, will “Princess Ada Cordomini” do? It is lengthy, but I can adapt.”

“Yes, that’s more than fine. Thank you, um…”

“My name is Sabina Enfield.” She bows. “I am devoted to your service from now until my passing as your personal maid servant. Please, address me as you wish, your highn- rather, Princess Ada Cordomini.”

The woman rises, and looks at me with the most loving expression she can muster. She obviously intends to stay here for quite some time, but she doesn’t know what she’s getting into.

“I come from a family of many professions. As such, I am skilled in medicine, arms, and fashion. Please… for your morning attire, please consider a few of my creations I’ve brought with me.”

She opens my closet to reveal three dresses. I suppose to anyone else they would seem beautiful. I can hardly judge them. It takes only a glance before I understand they will not be wearable by me.

“I do hope I got your sizes right. How do they look?”

“I cannot wear them.”

“Er… yes? Are they not to your liking? Oh, I’m very sorry… I did try to cover as many tastes as I could in just three pieces, but…”

“The stomachs are exposed on all of them.”

“Oh! Oh, my, I’m so very sorry, again, I am… I just- assumed, since most royal fashion now is like that, you would be okay showing a bit of skin…”

“It’s not quite that.”

“N-no? Then… er- well, what seems to be the problem, Princess Ada Cordomini? I assure you can fix any imperfection.”

“It has nothing to do with the dress.”

I stand, my nightgown bunching up around my waist, it writhing just underneath. I take it she cannot see, as she makes no mention of it.

“Sabina, I…”

It is of no use to explain. I slowly lift the skirt to just below my breast, as it is exposed to her. Extending down from my pectoralis major, it beats and convulses in a rhythm entirely removed from my own heartbeat and breathing as it unravels. It does not look or speak, except to me, which it now says inside my mind:

“I smell no terror on the female.”

She looks down its length as it unravels itself, soon rising into the air, my entire height above my head, as the claw marking its end points towards her. I grab at it, holding the wretched thing down until it obediently wraps back around my pelvis.

“So he did tell you.”

“Yes, I just… was not aware… of the severity…”

“This is my only secret. If you can keep it, just as my father has for fifteen years now… you can be my servant.”

“No need to worry.” She smiles, moving her hands to the hem of her uniform’s skirt before raising it up. Soon, the curtsy becomes something more exposing- revealing the pulsating mass overflowing from her belly button, its dozens of tiny, blood-red infant-like hands tugging at her stomach. “I… will do my absolute best.”