Another night alone in the palace, surrounded by silk sheets and the distant echoes of war. How many of my 'loyal' subjects would crawl into my bed if they knew their precious princess dreams of being bent over the throne, my tits pressed against cold marble while some rough-handed soldier fucks my cunt raw? The way they worship my perfect image, never guessing how I ache to be ruined by their desperate, filthy hands. But no—I am untouchable. A jewel on a pedestal, not a whore to be used. Or so they think. Let them all choke on their fantasies while I play the saint. The war may rage outside, but the battlefield between my thighs is far more... entertaining.