The Unattainable Princess, thats what they call me, for despite my beauty, I've never married. Its become legendary just how many men have lost their lives trying to take me to wife. It all started in such a mundane way. Pose a riddle and the suitor who answers correctly would have my hand in marriage. Those who failed were put to death. Such a common thing, you hear it in so many fairy tales. Even I was amazed at just how many men arrived to try and win me as their new bride. They were all hopelessly enamored with me, just from tales of my beauty. Poor boys...of course, there was no real answer to my little riddle, I had intended to simply tell the man who caught my eye the most that he was correct. Instead I found an infinitely more enjoyable use for all that lovesick fodder.

 Ah, that was a fun few days...princes, noblemen even kings and emperors lined up like lambs to the slaughter. These men had everything: money, power, land. But they gambled away those lives of luxury in a futile attempt to have me. Every head that rolled away from a lifeless body, leaving a trail of blood behind it, sent surges of pleasure through me. When the last suitor perished, I knew what I had to do. I needed more.

A man's life, willingly given, is the greatest gift a woman can receive. And I endeavored to receive more of them than any woman had ever dared dream of before.

At first, it was as mundane as the riddle that started it all. Sending knights and brave heroes off on impossible quests in my name, knowing full well they were likely to die. They knew it too, but they couldn't refuse me. How could they, given how beautiful I am? What man wouldn't happily go to his death if he knew he was doing it for me? Some of them would miraculously succeed in their adventure, persevering despite grievous losses to their companions and suffering beyond imagination. They'd return with whatever I'd requested, believing their dreams were about to come true. I can still see the looks in their eyes when I told them I wasn't fully satisfied and sent them off again. Some of them I simply found so unworthy that I told them in no uncertain terms that I wanted nothing more to do with them. Those unfortunate souls, their hearts crushed by my indifference to what they had endured for me, always ended up dead by their own hand shortly thereafter. Undoubtedly their last thoughts were about me. The lips they would never taste, the breasts they would never squeeze...pleasant thoughts to usher a man into oblivion, to be sure.

It only grew from there. Then there were great tournaments in my name where mobs of strong, handsome, gallant young men would slaughter each other while I watched on. I don't even know how many times I did this, but it never failed once. No matter what, thousands and thousands of men would always partake and they would all give their lives for me.  Of course, even if some lucky boy did survive all the carnage, I'd find some flimsy excuse to have him put to death. Just as it was with those crestfallen adventurers, watching it sink in was a treat. One man I recall in particular was a real delight. He was a warrior straight out of the great sagas: tall, impossibly muscled and with chiseled features other women would swoon over. He put on quite a show, slaying dozens of his fellows in my name before emerging as the sole survivor. Oh how he roared in triumph, holding the severed head of some other dullard aloft, as if presenting to me. I made it known how appalled I was at this barbaric gesture and demanded his own head in return. The great warrior didn't even resist as my guards decapitated him. He simply fell to his knees and stared blankly at me, preferring death to a life in which he had seen my beauty but would never enjoy it. 

Emboldened, I soon began to truly test the resolve of my suitors. One man, an emperor of a truly great land, was very easily convinced to round up his vast legions and march them into a massive canyon for me. No price was too high for my favor as far as he was concerned and his disciplined troops were quite happy to meet their doom for me. Sure enough, they formed ranks and obliged me, marching off the cliff like lemmings. It went on for days and the men never once hesitated. It was quite a sight, really. Seeing that enormous chasm choked with the broken corpses of splendid, valorous soldiers who had happily died such empty deaths simply because it was what I desired. When it was all said and done, I quite easily walked across the canyon upon the broken forms of the dead and swam in the river of blood that had formed. As for the Emperor, once all his men had perished I told him he needed to throw himself in as well to prove himself worthy of me. Without thought, without fear, he obeyed me. 

Finally, I used my beauty to start wars, telling kings that they had to win my favor by conquering their neighbors. Even their soldiers, who stood to gain nothing were so zealous! They knew they were going to war entirely because of my whim. But that was more than enough for them. Even those stupid, insignificant little men knew the only thing they had to give me, the only thing I wanted from them, was their life. Every one of those lads died happily, knowing I would find some small measure of delight from their demise. God, king and country combined are not as worth dying for as I am. What a spectacle it was, watching vast armies murder each other for my pleasure, my name on their lips as they rushed in to the jaws of death. I would observe from a safe distance, lounging about and being tended to by servants. As pleasurable as those tournaments had been, they were nothing compared to this. Being fanned and served grapes while watching all those men suffer and die was an experience like nothing I had imagined. Soon enough I had the entire world at war, nation after nation being destroyed by my lust.

There are so few men left alive now. But to those that remain, I am still their obsession and they desperately want to have me. No matter how many of them die, they are far more terrified of another winning my hand than of their own deaths. This fear breeds desperation and they persist, stopping at nothing in their attempts to impress me. The only thing that scares me, though, is the idea of running out of men to play with. Its a fleeting concern, though. Even if they all die, I'd merely have to wait a few years until their sons are ready to entertain me.