The thing about beautiful women is, they never tire of hearing about it. But they hear it a lot, so the trick is to tell them how beautiful they are, in a way they’ve never heard before. Bonus points if they don’t see it coming. Catch their attention with a story that seems unrelated, and then BAM! Ambush compliment. Works every time.
So I spin her a sexy tale with a bunch of naked goddesses in it, who desperately need my help and promised me anything my heart desired. She’s not buying a word of it, but it’s holding her attention. I tell how I chose love over wisdom and power. Chicks dig that, and the queen is no exception. I tell her how the goddess of love promised to reward me with the most beautiful woman in the world. And then fate leads me here, to Queen Helen. BAM.
I’ve had success with this approach before, but never like this. Suddenly she’s all in on the fate stuff. Wants to run away with me. I mean, I knew her marriage couldn’t have been great, but she really wants out. And along I come, opportunity personified, and she grabs hold with both hands. That part’s not a metaphor.
The thing is, I was laying it on a little thick with the “most beautiful woman in the world” stuff. But lying in her arms, it didn’t seem far off the mark. If you’ve ever been in that situation, you’ll know why I couldn’t find it within myself to refuse her anything.
Anything in the world.