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  1. The Sunshine Cowboy and the Sweetpea Princess A long time ago, before the records of men, there was a kingdom ruled over by a ruthless king. King Balachor had once been benevolent and good, but his queen had died giving birth to their only child, a beautiful daughter. The death of his queen took a heavy toll on Balachor, and though his daughter the princess was beautiful and pure, his heart hardened to the world, and became cold as ice. Out of fear that one day someone would come and take his princess away from him, Balachor had the princess locked away in his castle, giving her only enough freedoms as he thought were safe. The princess grew up afar from the subjects of the land, only seen briefly through the castle windows, or from far below as she stood on high balconies. Despite this, rumors circulated that her beauty was legendary, and those who were lucky enough to catch these sights named her Princess Sweetpea, for those brief glimpses of her beauty were far sweeter than any food the subjects had ever tasted. Many suitors came from across the realm, lords and knights alike, to beg the king for the hand of the princess in marriage. But all of them were refused, and exiled from Balachor's kingdom. If any were to set foot in the lands Balachor controlled ever again, they would be beheaded. In this way, Balachor struck fear into the hearts of those who might take his Sweetpea from him. One day, a farmer from a neighboring kingdom visited Balachor's castle, looking for someone to buy his cows. He was a young and rugged man, used to having to work for his daily meal. His hair was a brilliant golden blond, and when he took off his hat on a clear day it lit up in the sunlight, as if he wore the sun itself on top his head. It was a warm day in the summer, and as he rode up to the gates, he noticed a fair figure looking down at him from a balcony far above him. The farmer was immediately enamored, and knew he must remember to ask the king about her. Finally, he was granted an audience with Balachor, and the farmer entered the throne room full of humility and respect, bowing and kneeling. "Your majesty," he began, "I am a simple cowboy from the next kingdom over, and I seek to sell my animals. But before we talk about this, may I ask about the fair maiden I saw high up in the castle while arriving here?" At these words, Balachor became incensed with anger. He gripped the throne tightly, and ground his teeth. Who was this boy to ask about his beloved princess when so many others above him had been rebuffed and refused? In his rage, Balachor began to have dark, twisted thoughts. A new example needed to be set, the fear of death no longer seemed to prevent these undesirable people from asking about his daughter. With a sneer, Balachor responded to the young cowboy. "She is my daughter, the princess. Have you come to seek her hand in marriage as well?" Sinister and evil intent dripped from his lips with these words, but the sunshine cowboy, taken aback at the sudden question, spoke without hearing it. "I did not come seeking your daughter, your majesty, but I would be honored to be given the chance. In all my life I have never seen something or someone so beautiful and pure. I think I might die just to gaze upon her beauty again." "Indeed," snarled the king, springing his plan into action. "Since you wish her so, you must complete many trials to earn the chance at her hand. She is dear to me, and I would not have just any man take her from me. Should you succeed, she will be yours, and you will have my blessing in marriage." But Balachor had no intention of letting that happen. This sunshine cowboy would surely perish in the trials Balachor designed, and his mangled body would be hung outside the castle walls as a warning to anyone else who dared follow in his naive footsteps. "Your first trial is one of hunger. You will be locked up for thirty days and thirty nights, without food. If you survive, you may continue to seek my daughter." The sunshine cowboy's heart sunk at this news, and before he had the chance to protest, Balachor snapped his fingers, summoning guards to take him to the dungeons. The cowboy had been through famines before, sometimes going a week without food. But a whole month? He had never heard of anyone surviving that long. The days passed as the cowboy sat in his cell, and hunger slowly ate away at him. At first it was not that bad, but it quickly became painful. He began to chew on the straw they had given him to sleep on, though it was dirty and tasted awful. Twice he managed to catch bugs, quickly swallowing them with what little strength he had left. But through it all, he thought only of the princess, and miraculously managed to live through his ordeal. Thirty days and thirty nights later the guards came for him, walking his weak and skinny figure to the throne room to kneel once more before the king. Balachor had expected him to starve, and was all the angrier he hadn't. "So," the king said, eyeing the cowboy closely, "You lived. Do you still seek the hand of my daughter in marriage?" At her mention, the memory of her beauty came back to the sunshine cowboy, and he nodded, hoping that was all he needed to earn a chance at seeking her love. Surely the feat he had undergone was enough to prove his dedication? "Yes, your majesty," the cowboy weakly replied. But at this, the king stamped his foot in anger. "Very well! Then you must spend a day in the furnaces below the castle. If you have the fortitude to not burn to a crisp, you may seek my daughter's hand in marriage." Surely he would not survive, thought Balachor, who relished the thought of seeing his charred bones displayed as a warning to other suitors. With a snap from the king, the guards carried the cowboy down into the dark passages deep below the castle. The furnaces provided heat to the castle and was also where the blacksmiths worked, heating up metals until they glowed and flowed like liquid. The main furnace was large, its fire chamber large enough to fit twenty men, but not with an enormous fire inside it. Before the cowboy even saw the light down the hallway, he felt the immense heat, made worse from his hunger. The guards left the sunshine cowboy with the master blacksmith, instructing them what was to be done with the farmer boy. After they left, though, the blacksmith sat him down, letting him eat some of his lunch for that day. "I'm sorry, lad," spoke the blacksmith, "I don't want to do this to you, but if I don't, the king will have us killed. Worse yet, he has demanded thirty new swords be made before tomorrow, which means we must stoke the fires hot until we are done." At this news, the cowboy's heart sank further than he thought was possible. All seemed hopeless. "Do you think I can survive?" asked the cowboy. "There is a chance," replied the smith, "I will show you where to sit. It will be the coolest part of the furnace, but even then it will be murderously hot. Protect yourself as best you can, and you may yet survive." The cowboy thanked the smith, who guided him over to the large furnace, opening the doors and pointing at the spot the cowboy needed to sit in. Immediately the cowboy began to sweat at the sweltering heat, but faithfully he walked into the furnace and sat down in a far corner the smith had pointed to, covering his face and mouth as best he could. After a few moments, even his sweat seemed to dry, evaporating faster than it came. The smoke was thick, but he was near a vent-hole, which gave him some clean air to breathe. And then, the smiths began the bellows, blasting the fires hotter than the cowboy thought possible. His hair and his clothing smoldered away quickly, leaving the rest of him exposed as he huddled near his vent. Pain wracked the cowboy for hours. He could feel his skin charring, slowly peeling away, leaving the skin under that to char and peel away in turn. The sunshine cowboy truly thought that because of all this, he now knew what hell was like. It was worse than any torture he could have ever imagined, but he knew that if he survived he would be able to meet the princess, and with luck make her his own. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the fires died down. The furnace door was opened, the flames dampened, and two of the blacksmiths came to fetch his burnt figure from the floor. They provided him a set of their clothes and applied a salve to most of his wounds, which would help him heal. A message was sent to the king, who was furious that the cowboy had not burned to death. Balachor could not fathom a punishment more severe, but he did conceive one final devious plan he was sure the cowboy would fall for. The cowboy was allowed a few days to rest and recover while a call was put out throughout the land for all fair maidens of a certain age to come to the castle. A few days later, the cowboy, bandaged and weak, was summoned to the throne room. In it were maidens of all sorts, each lovingly made to look as beautiful as the next, each holding a goblet of wine. "Ha!" the king cried out from his throne. "You have proven yourself champion of hunger and pain, but now comes the final test. Drink from the goblet my daughter holds, and you shall have her. But be warned, the rest are poison! Choose now, farmer, and greet your fate." For certain, all of the maidens were lovely to look at, rosy in the cheek and full in the chest. The sunshine cowboy, bewildered by this final test, slowly walked up and down the lines, carefully studying each of the young women, but while all looked similar to the woman he had seen from the balcony, he couldn't be certain that any one of them was the princess. After all, he had seen her once over a month ago, and had gone through hell and back just to get one more glimpse. Sighing, his shoulders sank, and he turned back to the king. "I'm sorry, sire, I cannot tell if any of them are the princess. To be honest, none of them look quite like what I remember." At this, King Balachor grinned with glee. "But you must drink, young man," the king replied, "Either choose, or I will choose for you." At this, there was a commotion at the back of the room, and another maiden stepped forward from a side door, her radiant beauty eclipsing the others present. "Enough, father!" the real princess stormed forward, furious. "I have heard what you've done to this poor man. How can you be such a wicked creature? Do you truly have such hate in your heart that you would drive this man to his death just to see me lonely?" At this, the king was dumbstruck. The cowboy was speechless, tears welling up in his eyes as the memory returned to him clear as day, this indeed was the princess standing before him. She approached him, softly caressing his face. "I am truly sorry for what my father has done. This was all a trick, and you, a poor victim." The cowboy's throat was dry as he tried to respond, and his words rasped as he spoke. "Your highness, all I wanted was a chance to see you again. I think any other man in my situation would have done the same." The king, finding his words again, snorted at the cowboy. "You petulant peasant! You wanted to steal her from me, like all the others. And now, you have sealed your fate!" He snapped, and the guards at the edges of the room moved in, weapons drawn. But the princess stood in front of him, defiantly. "Listen to yourself, father! This man risked everything to only catch sight of me, and you would selfishly lock me away for your own good. You truly think he came to steal me away? I would rather die alongside someone of honor than suffer one more day imprisoned by a fool!" The guards hesitated, and the king gestured for them to halt. He thought about it for a long moment. The princess was all Balachor had left of the queen, she was the light in his dark. But through her, the queen lived on, and for too long he had lost sight of that. At that moment his heart began to soften, and he realized the errors of his ways. With a short command, the guards were called off. "I...am sorry, my dear. And to you as well, farmer. From now on, the princess may go as she pleases, and may marry whoever makes her happy." At that there was a great commotion among the assembled maidens, cries of joy and happiness. The princess turned to the cowboy, putting a kiss on his cheek. "I'm sorry to say, but...I don't know you. Your deeds are impressive and you will be well taken care of, but I cannot say my heart is yours. Still, thank you for what you've done. Maybe...in time?" The cowboy smiled, and bowed as best he could against the strain of the bandages. "In time, your highness." After that, the kingdom renounced all its former exiles, and there was a grand feast every year celebrating both the princess gaining her freedom, and remembering the late queen. In time, the sweetpea princess grew more and more fond of the sunshine cowboy, and they all lived happily ever after.
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