Correct that

“Well I am the king despite my current form… do you know how to undo this curse?”

He laughs. “No. And I do not intend to undo it. Ever… Me. I am The Hood,” he says. The Hood is a wanted fugitive that has been a thorn in your side for years, robbing your tax collectors, poaching game from your reserves and stirring up dissent amongst the rabble. He is almost a legend and his deeds have caused you constant headaches. You consider your unlikely saviours identity with irritation. His admission that he will not assist you to regain your true form shocks you. You are trapped… and… The Hood’s true identity is unknown. You try and see his face but it Is covered.

“If you do not intend to help me regain my proper form why would you rescue your king?”

Again he laughs. “I hold no loyalty to you my leige,” he says ‘my liege’ mockingly as he pats your bare ass. “Despite your lowly form you remain the heir to the throne. No one will ever respect or bow down to you whilst you are trapped in that form though. And I am quite pleased to see you like this - you deserve this and worse. You are nothing but a pawn now. But a pawn may become a queen for it is your god given legitimacy, your royal lineage that makes you invaluable to anyone wanting to seize and hold the throne. You are and always have been a figurehead that can stabilise the kingdom and curtail the greed of its lords, but sadly you have sired no heirs and I fear the kingdom will splinter and devolve into petty squabbling fiefdoms. This will cause starvation, predation, war and countless deaths in the kingdom. Your true value lies in your new womb which will beget the next king and allow your partner to be the regent until you bare a male child and the next heir child comes of age… succession is your value.”

“Wait, you cannot seriously think that I will have children as a woman!” You reply, appalled but oddly intrigued by the notion. A child… in your belly. Your breasts swelling with milk. Being a wife. A mother.

“Even if you have no children your presence on the arm of any man makes them king… and I would be king…” The Hood says mirthlessly.