This is a story about a foolish Prince, an evil sorcerer, and the misuse of a magical artifact of great power . . . mischief and chaos ensue.

**A drunken Caspar, feeling lonely at the loss of his friend Kyler, decides it's time to spend time with his wife, the Princess Sanja.**

Caspar reigned in his tall gilding and looked down the river valley. From this elevation, he could see the mighty river Vanna as it coiled around Castle Vanaheim and the town that surrounded it. The castle that Caspar called home was relatively new, having been built by his grandfather after he united the seven fiefdoms into one kingdom. The afternoon sunlight caught the waters of the Vanna setting it alight and bathing the town that grew up around the castle in a reflected beauty.

The sound of hooves and the barking of the hounds interrupted his revere. Cord, Caspar’s closest remaining friend and the son of the Baron of àrDachaigh, pulled his horse to s stop a next to Caspar. The horse was blowing from the hard ride but Cord looked to be in worse shape. Several inches shorter than Caspar he had the fat of a youth who’d never been forced onto the training grounds by his father. However, Caspar knew from personal experience that. he could drink men twice his age under the table and in addition to playing the lute he knew every tavern song in the realm. At night, he made a fine drinking companion.

Going hunting had been something Caspar had forced upon Cord since the departure of his friend Kyler. After forcing a woman’s body onto Kyler and using him for sport, Caspar had thought his friend had convinced himself that it had all been a dream. The day after had been filled by Kyler looking strangely at Caspar and then glancing away before Caspar could catch his eye. Caspar had caught him muttering to himself and that night Kyler had gotten himself drunker than Caspar had ever seen. Still, his friend had said nothing.

His work in the training yard had suffered since Kyler’s mind seemed somewhere else and he’d kept glancing up into the rainbow of dresses as the women of the castle watched. By the fifth day Caspar started to wonder if he needed to act, to bring Kyler out of his strange ill mood. He considered a repeat performance, the idea of Kyler once again trapped in the lithe body of Annika, squirming under him, begging to be taken gave him a raging erection. ‘Yes,’ Caspar made up his mind, tonight he’d once again introduce Kyler to the many carnal pleasures he’d mastered.

That afternoon a messenger had burst into the castle. King Oberon and Gunter had taken the message in the privacy of the King’s study much to Caspar’s annoyance. Word had travel, by servant gossip, to where Caspar sat drinking in one of the castle’s gardens. The slave Nefertari brought the news to him.

Besides the sorcerer, Horus, she was the only one who knew of his crystal neckless. He’d used it on her several times to cause her to take other shapes for his pleasure. Today he’d needed information and had enlisted the beautiful woman to his cause. Using the necklace, he’d caused her to take on the shape of Clove a servant who’d been with Caspar’s family since before he was born. The real Clove had left the day before to visit her daughter in town. Her daughter was due to deliver her second child any day and Clove had some knowledge of midwifery.

Through this deception, Caspar had discovered that Pictish raiders had come up the coast in their crude boats and were troubling the coastal towns. Knowing his father, Gunter would be dispatched to deal with the problem. What had caught Caspar off guard was that King Oberon had decided to go and had taken both Gunter and Kyler. He’d left Caspar in charge of the castle during his absence. Caspar enjoyed the responsibility, for the first day. After that the drudgery of the many duties, the Lord of the Castle was required to perform, weighed on him.

Two weeks after leaving, the Warband returned. To Caspar’s disappointment Kyler wasn’t with them. After dealing with the raiders and setting their boats aflame. Kyler had left the warband. He’d explained to his father that he need to take some time to travel the lands of Hyboria and learn of its people.

“My lord, I am famished, exhausted from the hunt and in need of refreshment. Shall we not return to the town? I know a tavern on the way to the castle with the comeliest wenches in all of Vanaheim!”

Cord’s comment brought Caspar back to the present and he grinned slapping his friend on the back. “Aye, I think a pint or six might go down smoothly. Tell the huntsman to return to the Castle and deliver our game to the cook. Now that the King is in residence I am free to spend the night in a tavern!”

Caspar stumbled to his chamber. His head spun from the wine and strong drink. Yet he knew he didn’t want to sleep. His mind drifted to Sanja, his wife, she had started to show the signs of being pregnant, with a nicely rounded belly, and she didn’t want him sniffing around. Being turned down by his own wife was humiliating. Her words rang out in his mind.

“Pah! You’ve spent the afternoon drinking. Now you come to me fresh from a whore demanding my attention. Get out!”

At this Caspar had denied his dalliance and demanded his right as a husband. Sanja had glared at him with her bright green eyes, “You’re a man. You just can’t understand what I’m going through, now leave me alone.”

Standing alone in his chamber it hit him. She was right. There was the dim memory of a night in a whore’s body, but as frightening as that had been it had also, if he were honest, been enjoyable. Then there was Nefertair’s innuendos. Her blatant enjoyment of every moment she spent riding his cock and her teasing comments, that if she had a cock and he had a pussy, she’d teach him the true meaning of pleasure. During many a long night of debauchery he’d considered taking her up on her challenge, but for some reason he always held back. Perhaps she was just too eager to own a cock.

Now standing in his darkened room Caspar knew he had a way to show Sanja that he did understand women. He laughed, and took the necklace from the safe where he kept it. He could understand HER far better than Sanja thought possible. Once he had the pendant on he moved through the castle to Princess Sanja’s rooms. There were no guards outside her doors, none would dare to hurt the princess. Pausing Caspar knocked before entering. The sitting room was gilded in gold-leaf work with polished white wood. Even at night with only a few lamps the room felt light and airy. Caspar staggered still drunk through the room to Sanja’s bedchamber, “Sanja! Wife! I have a way to resolve our problem.” Caspar threw open the door and used his lamp to light the lamp on the table before moving to the one next to the mirror.

Sanja sat up in bed. Her white sleeping gown clung to her luscious curves and after rubbing her eyes glared at her husband. “I’m trying to sleep. The babies, you put in me, take all my strength!”

“Yes, but this is important! You said I don’t know what you’re going through, and I agree, I don’t. Yet, I have a way to solve this.”

Sighing, Sanja slid her legs over the side of the bed, parted the curtains and stood up. For a moment, she rubbed her sensitive swollen breasts and then the slight bulge of her tummy. Then she glared at Caspar, “How can you, a man, solve the mystery of child birth?”

“With this!” Caspar pulled a crystal pendant out from under his tunic and held it out to her. In the light the crystal caught fire and Sanja gasped. “W-What is it?”

“Magic!” Caspar slurred drunkenly, a wild look in his eye. “A magic that will bring us together like nothing else.”

“You’re drunk!” Sanja stated folding her arms below her breasts and glaring at her husband. “Now, get out.”

“Nay, it is true, I have partaken of the juice of the grape, but I am not drunk! Yet, if you want me to leave, then this body might, but it won’t be ME.” Caspar gripped the crystal in one hand and in a rush, he added, “Sanja, invoke!”

This time it felt like a force pushed him and he stumbled from his body. Everything had frozen in place. Caspar looked back and saw his body holding the crystal looking large and intimidating. Then he looked over at Sanja and just then he saw a ghostly image of his wife float up away from her physical body. For a moment, they looked at each other and then a power seemed to grab Caspar just under his phantom heart and with a jerk he was drawn into Sanja’s waiting body.

All at once his senses came alive. He sucked air into his lungs gasping and the soft feminine sounds of he made set his heart racing. Caspar looked over as Sanja stumbled forward. She was clearly off balance in his body, and drunk.

“Sanja, are you okay?” The words were soft and delicate and the sound sent a thrill through Caspar.

The blonde man looked at her and blinked. “W-Why do you look like me?” Then his hands flew to his throat. “What’s wrong with my voice?!”

“Come with me.” Caspar moved forward to take Sanja’s hand. The first few steps felt odd and off. He felt a weight on his belly and the orbs on his chest moved freely bouncing in an unconstrained way beneath the sleeping gown. Taking Sanja’s large male hand in his soft delicate one sent a shiver through him. The full-length mirror that Sanja used, when dressing, evaluate each new outfit, was off to one side. When they were in front of it Sanja let out a deep gasp and moved forward. Disbelief clearly written on his swiftly sobering face. Standing inches from the mirror she raised her hands to touch her face and watched the image copy her movements. “I-I’m you. I’m the royal prince. I’m Caspar!”

“Yes, I told you. Magic. Now we can learn about each other.”

“What if I don’t want to learn about you?” The words were harsh, alcohol induced, yet the ring of truth hung between them.

“I need to understand you. We’re not swapping back. Not for a week. You can be me, train, go to meetings, learn to debauch. I’ll do needle point and try to understand what it feels like to grow a life within my body.”

Sanja spun around, lost her balance, and staggered to the side. She grabbed a table and then glared at Caspar. “What gives you the right to do this?”

“I’m the Crown Prince. You are my wife. Obey!”

The words sounded less forceful coming from his new petite form, yet Sanja seemed to wilt within his body. With a life time of training to obey, and as much alcohol as Caspar had consumed, Sanja was in no state to argue.

“Now, put out the lights and come to bed.”

Sanja nodded, slightly drunk, and in the darkness followed her husband to bed.