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Hyah was a twirly girl, a whirly girl, a girl who liked daisies, and moonbeams, and pixies, so true. Her hair was a gorgeous chestnut color, with touches of gold which enhanced her beauty and swiftly grew. The dragons claimed her as their own, because of her sweetness and goodness and what she’d been through. Hyah’s laugh was one of the faerie king’s favorite sounds, as her hair was his favorite color, and hue. He was a young king, a solid king, a king who was sedate, and ordinary, and plain a royal, obscure. The king had met Hyah many moons ago, when they were 3, and 4, a wee lad and lassie, She thought of him as her good friend, Pete, never thought of him in any other way, for sure. “She is beautiful,” his head guard told him. “And look at those tiny legs, and that beautiful chassis." The king was angry, fast and hard, when the head guard spoke of such things. He had plans for Hyah, the faerie, and it had to do with jeweled wedding rings. “She’s already spoken for,” He told the young man, severely, in his hopes, putting dings. For Hyah had completely and utterly entranced this young king of imaginary kings. He courted her fast, and hard, and she was swept off her feet, so quickly, he could not be detoured. Hyah was the envy of all of the others who had been looking hard at the king, thinking him pretty pure. He was not even aware he was completely and utterly hopelessly in love until Head Guard wanted her. They were married on a Wednesday, and on Friday she wrote her first check, to Head Guard, her lure.
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