War

Atop her red horse, a single woman sat, dressed in a beautiful red gown cut low under her breasts, one bare, smooth leg extending out of her dress from the slit cut strategically just at her hip. Any higher, and perhaps the men who stood drooling over her would have been able to see the piece of string that barely classified as a thong she was wearing. She smiled as she watched those men crush each other for a chance to lay their eyes upon her, spilling one another's blood and turning a blind eye to it as they came close to her.

It was not just the simple men that were taken in by her beauty and charms. Kings as well were taken by her, abandoning their queens for her, and putting their armies to war for a chance to bed her. And at times she would let them bed her, for knowing just how marvelous she was in bed only served to increase how much men wanted her. They could not keep quiet of their "conquests," though they were always too taken by her to realize that they were the ones being used. For it was never long after she had slept with a man before he was slain, and his position and power were to be taken by another.

Entire wars were fought because of her, and two kingdom's desire to take her as their queen. Kings who wanted to wed her, and men who were hoping to take his position as soon as she was claimed as their own. Fighting with their hearts and never their minds over her, never thinking about what had come of the men who had been lucky enough to be chosen by her, only wishing to be one of them.

These actions had continued on for centuries, and never did the men question the longevity of her life or how eternally beautiful it was. Perhaps because there were very few who lived through the wars long enough to realize that she had been the center of the world's attention for so many years past when her prime should have ended.

She was a master of deceit. She frequently lied about how many lovers she had taken or who she had recently bedded in order to get the attention of those she sought. She lied about what people were whispering behind her lovers' backs, or what people had offered her. In fact, she hardly remembered the last time she had told someone something even remotely resembling the truth. The truth would have stopped the battles. And she did so love watching people fight over her.