Dear Gossip Intern,
Recently you posed a question to me in the column you help Marc Franco write on the gossip around town and at first I was not going to consider answering you but I have thought about it and here goes nothing.
There really is no secret to what I do. I am a woman and for the most part, men love women. This, I would think is a given and largely understood by everyone. Of course in our town there's also the possibility that chickens may love women, too, or half angel, half cow creatures will fall in love with any number of us, but the majority of people in this town are just that -- people and they have needs just like the rest of God's creations.
When I was young I realized that I was in love with the idea of man. He really is a perfect machine if you want to get right down to it. He is built for battle, can provide food, a roof over one's head, and can make babies, which, when they grow up will fall in love and make more babies of their own. Personally, I have given birth to eighteen babies in my time and have had fifty husbands. This, I'm sure, is no shock to you but it always seems to be a surprise to other people when they first meet me. I often wonder why this is particularly since I have lived for seven hundred years. Like I told a friend of mine last week, that's only like fourteen husbands a century. I don't think that's as bad when it's put that way. Do you?
I have a marketable skill. My body. I may not have the most perfect body in the world but weighing in at just over ninety pounds with a sizable bosom as I have been fortunate to have, my body is attractive. I am small too which also adds to my charm. Men love petite women. Also, I have red hair. For some reason men go crazy over redheads and I am a natural redhead, too. One of the most frequent questions I am asked by potential lovers is, do the drapes match the carpet and the answer is yes. I don't put crazy dyes in my hair, that's just silly. I work with what God gave me and make it seem like the best thing since sliced bread! Many women make the mistake of trying to be something they are not which is likely the reason why they do not get as many men as I do.
I do not pretend to be a goddess, I am one.
I believe this. I take what I want and I do not accept no for an answer. I don't give up. I am relentless in pursuit of my goals and woe betide any who cross me.
I am a school of thought, Miss Intern. A walking philosophy. I make no apologies, you see, and everything I do, I do with a smile.
I level with the males who pay attention to me and they appreciate my candor. I tell them all, up front, that I am married and you also mentioned in the column that you cannot understand how my husband, Prince Vasaris, is oblivious to my infidelity and the answer to that is, my husband's got more mistresses than I do lovers! He's too busy to be worrying about whose bed I'm occupying each night and, at the end of the day, if we do happen to end up in each other's arms, I am his consort. That's all he cares about.
I provide a service to him. It sounds crude, yes, but it's the truth. I am a former Kajira, the Gorean word for pleasure slave, and if I don't know how to please a man, there isn't a woman alive or dead who does. I guaranfrickintee it. He owns me as he does his war yacht, his Trans-Atlantic Laser Beam, as he does any of the multitude of gold and silver slaves who wait on him hand and foot. I dont know how well versed you are in the habits of royals but as Vasaris' princess, my only responsibility is to provide him with an heir. I've done that. Now he couldn't care less what I do, really. I don't love him. He doesn't love me. But we play act that we do for the sake of our kingdom and an age old practice of courtly love and romance you mostly only read about in fairy tales except I'm the unlucky idiot who actually gets to live one. It's all a bunch of nonsense if you ask me but it is what it is. I suffer through it as many princesses before me have. I'm not special in this regard.
Another problem I seem to notice with the girls of this day and age is that they are in competition with the males around them. Men do not like this. I know some girls seem to have convinced themselves that they do but I assure you, that's not true. Men are fixers, problem solvers. They want to be hailed as heroes. It builds up their egoes. They do not want a woman who acts like a man and they certainly don't want a woman who is their equal. I know the politically correct thing nowadays is for men to kowtow to the demands of these women who want to be seen on equal footing but the truth is, men despise this and, so, too, do I.
The world I come from, Miss Intern, is an ancient world where men reign supreme. It does not matter that if I'm on a date with a human male and we are attacked by bandits, I could probably crush them all in the palm of my hand without batting an eyelash, I don't have to prove that to the man by doing it. I act weak. I let him take the reins. Let him think he is in control. This makes him see me as a jewel to be treasured and protected. I make him feel good, see? And the more I build up his confidence and ego, the more he wants to be around me. The more he goes crazy with desire over me because I'm not trying to compete with him.
It is a game. Plain and simple. One I'm so good at, I should probably write a book. If I do, I'll send you an autographed copy. You seem like a bright girl. Take my advice, please, I beg you.
If half the girls in this town would start taking notes from me and paying attention, they might not find themselves lonely on a Friday night. Until then, because I guess they think they know better than me? I'm gonna keep dating their men and reaping the benefits. If I showed you just one of my jewelry chests from one month of dating these Rhy'Dinian men, you'd have a heart attack. I could feed villages on the presents I get.
So you want to know what the secret to my success is?
Spoil the man, spare him the drama.
I enjoy reading the column. Please give my regards to the other Intern and Mister Franco and tell him I love my nickname "Crazy Train".
All my love,
Tara Anne Marie Rynieyn
a.k.a
The Queen of Hearts
