The princess was not always a skeleton. Once, she had been a vibrant young woman, her skin creamy and soft, her eyes sparkling with life. But a cruel twist of fate turned her into a lifeless form.

Now, she was locked in a dungeon, her former beauty reduced to a skeletal form. Her golden tresses and soft pink lips had become mere memories. Then, one day, a voice filled the air.

"My, that is nice flesh, mind if I try it on?" the voice creaked. Its tone was rusty, as if it hadn't been used in ages, yet there was an air of excitement.

Unseen to the princess, the voice slipped into her discarded skin. It slowly filled out the soft hands, the delicate feet, caressing the remnant of her beauty.

The voice admired the chest it now owned. It could feel the weight of the breasts on its old rib cage. It seemed amused by the change, cackling with delight.

As the princess' face slid over the skull, it smiled. The golden hair framed a pink smile, filled with rotten old teeth. The voice asked, "How do I look?"

Now, the voice bore the visage of a beautiful princess. It admired its new form, standing tall with regained vanity. The skeleton was no more; in its place stood a resurrected diva.

"Oh, no, I'll need that dress," the voice said, and it tore off the princess's dress before slipping into it, revelling in the feel of silk on its new skin.

It admired itself, surprised at how well the dress fit. The voice could not help but touch its new body, marveling at how fair and full it now was.

"What? You aren't happy as a skeleton? Well neither was I," the voice cackled, the sound echoing against the dungeon walls. It had a wicked sense of humor, it seemed.

The princess could only watch in silent shock as the voice wore her skin, relishing in her beauty and form. She felt a pang of loss, but also an odd sense of relief.

The voice could not contain its excitement, singing and dancing around the room in celebration. The echoes against the stone walls heightened the voice's jubilation.

The princess watched the voice, a bitter taste of envy on her tongue. She yearned for her body, for the warmth of her skin and the freedom of movement she once had.

"You were kind enough to lose your flesh. I think I'll take it," the voice declared, its words mocking. It seemed pleased by the princess's envy, adding a twisted joy to its actions.

Yet even as her envy grew, the princess began to feel a glimmer of hope. The voice had given her a new perspective. If it could wear her skin, perhaps she could wear another's?

The princess determinedly stood tall, her bone structure stiff yet determined. She was not going to accept defeat so easily. She would find a way to reclaim her body and her life.

Days turned into weeks, and the princess worked tirelessly. She researched ancient tomes, traced cryptic runes, all in hopes of finding a solution.

The voice was oblivious to her efforts, too engrossed in its newfound life. It lived like a queen, acquiring fine dresses and dazzling jewelry to adorn its form.

Finally, after numerous trials and failures, the princess found a promising incantation. It was a risky gamble, but she had nothing to lose and everything to gain.

She prepared for the ritual. On the designated night, under a full moon, she began to chant. The words were alien to her, yet she hoped they held the key to her freedom.

As the princess chanted, the voice grew quiet, a sense of unease creeping into its heart. It had grown familiar with the princess' spirit, but this... this was something else.

A brilliant light enveloped the princess, her skeletal form glowing like a beacon. The voice watched, stunned and bewildered, as the princess began to transform.

The light began to take shape, forming a new layer of skin over the princess' bones. It was like watching clay being molded onto a statue, slowly taking on the form of a human body.

The voice tried to intervene, but it was too late. The princess was already changing, the enchantment too strong to be broken. The voice watched helplessly as the princess returned to her former glory.

The transformation was complete. The princess stood tall, her skin creamy as before, her eyes once again sparkling with life. But now, they also held a determined fire.

The voice whimpered, losing its hold on the princess' old body. It returned to its creaky skeletal existence, watching in despair as the princess reclaimed her form.

Now, it was the princess' turn to cackle. "Well, you aren't happy as a skeleton? Well neither was I," she declared, her words echoing the voice's earlier mockery.

The princess embraced her new existence, with a newfound appreciation for her humanity. She vowed to never take her body for granted again, and to live every day to the fullest.

As for the voice, it was resigned to watch the princess live her life. It was trapped in the dungeon once more, the only sound it could make were the echoes of its own despair.

The princess, on the other hand, lived her life vibrantly. She knew the strength and resilience she possessed. She had conquered defeat and regained her humanity, a victory she would cherish forever.

The voice served as a constant reminder of her past ordeal. She had learned a valuable lesson; our bodies, our flesh and bones, are as much a part of our identity as our minds and souls.

Her newfound appreciation for her body and her life made her a stronger, more resilient woman. She was not just a princess; she was a survivor, a woman of strength and courage.

And so, the princess, now a queen, reigned her kingdom with wisdom and compassion. Every day was a celebration of life, and every night was a testament to her undying spirit.

As for the voice, it remained trapped in the dungeon, a sad remnant of its former glory. It served as a reminder of the princess' victory and her will to reclaim her body, her identity.

The princess' tale spread far and wide, a living testament to the indomitable spirit of humans. And in the heart of the kingdom, the creaking voice still echoed, a ghostly reminder of a past overcome.