All-Kinds-of-Fur

Once upon a time, in a kingdom where roses bloomed year-round and crystal streams sang through emerald valleys, there lived a king whose wife was renowned throughout the world for her extraordinary beauty and golden hair that shone like captured sunlight. She was not only beautiful but also wise and kind, beloved by all who knew her.

When their daughter was born, the queen looked into the infant’s eyes and saw her own spirit reflected there. “Promise me,” she whispered to her husband as she lay dying shortly after the birth, “that you will only remarry if you find a woman as beautiful as I am, with hair as golden as mine.”

The grieving king, unable to deny his dying wife’s last request, made the solemn promise. The princess grew up to be the image of her mother—graceful, intelligent, and possessed of the same radiant golden hair that seemed to hold starlight in its strands.

Years passed, and courtiers often urged the king to remarry for the sake of the kingdom. “You need a queen,” they counseled, “and the realm needs an heir.”

The king would always reply, “I have promised to marry only one as beautiful as my late wife, with hair as golden as hers. Such a woman does not exist.”

But as the princess reached her eighteenth year, the king looked upon his daughter and was struck by a disturbing realization. She had grown to become the exact image of her mother—the same ethereal beauty, the same golden hair that caught light like spun sunshine, the same gentle grace that had first captivated his heart.

To the horror of the entire court, the king announced his intention to marry his own daughter, claiming that she alone fulfilled the promise he had made to his dying wife.

“Father, this cannot be!” the princess cried in shock and revulsion. “Such a union would be against all laws of nature and heaven!”

But the king, obsessed with his twisted interpretation of his promise, would not be dissuaded. “You are the only woman who matches your mother’s beauty,” he declared. “The promise must be fulfilled.”

Desperate to delay this terrible fate, the princess made three seemingly impossible requests. “If you insist on this course, Father, then first you must grant me three wedding gifts: a dress as golden as the sun, a dress as silver as the moon, and a dress as glittering as the stars themselves.”

The king, determined to have his way, summoned the finest seamstresses in the kingdom. Using threads of actual gold, they created a dress that blazed like the sun itself. With silver thread so fine it seemed like captured moonbeams, they crafted a gown that shimmered with lunar radiance. Finally, working with threads embedded with countless tiny diamonds, they made a dress that sparkled like the night sky.

When all three impossible dresses were complete, the princess made one final request: “I also require a cloak made from a piece of fur from every animal in the kingdom.”

Again, the king’s hunters scoured the land, gathering fur from every creature—from the tiniest mouse to the greatest bear, from common rabbits to exotic animals that lived in the deepest forests. The royal furriers stitched them all together into a cloak of many colors and textures that was both beautiful and bizarre.

On the night before the wedding was to take place, the princess knew she must act. She gathered her three magical dresses, wrapping them into a bundle so small it fit in a walnut shell—a gift from her fairy godmother years before. She also took three precious items that had belonged to her mother: a golden ring, a golden spinning wheel small enough to hold in her palm, and a golden thimble.

Covering herself completely in the cloak of many furs, the princess blackened her face and hands with soot from the fireplace, then fled into the dark forest. She ran through the night, guided only by moonlight and her desperate need to escape the terrible fate that awaited her.

As dawn broke, exhausted and lost, she found herself in the territory of a neighboring kingdom. Unable to go further, she climbed into the hollow of a great tree and fell into a deep sleep.

The sun was high when the sound of hunting horns woke her. The young king of this realm was hunting with his party when his hounds discovered her hiding place.

“What strange creature is this?” wondered the king, seeing what appeared to be a wild beast covered in fur.

“It’s some kind of peculiar animal we’ve never seen before,” said one of the hunters. “Look at all the different furs!”

The princess, thinking quickly, spoke in a rough, disguised voice: “I am but a poor creature abandoned in the forest. I know not what I am or where I came from.”

The king, moved by pity for what he assumed was an unfortunate wildling, said, “Come with us to the castle. You can work in the kitchens in exchange for food and shelter.”

At the castle, the servants laughed at the strange new arrival, calling her “All-Kinds-of-Fur” because of her peculiar cloak. They gave her a corner near the kitchen fire to sleep in and the lowliest tasks to perform—scrubbing pots, cleaning floors, and tending the fire.

Though the work was hard and the servants often mocked her appearance, the princess performed every task with grace and skill. The head cook noticed that despite her rough appearance, All-Kinds-of-Fur had remarkably gentle hands and seemed to possess knowledge far beyond that of a simple forest creature.

One evening, the king announced a grand ball. All the castle was busy with preparations, and even All-Kinds-of-Fur was given extra work polishing silver and cleaning the great hall.

“I wish I could see the dancing,” she sighed as she worked.

“A creature like you at a royal ball?” laughed the head cook. “What a notion! You’d frighten the nobles with that wild appearance of yours!”

But when everyone had gone to the ball, All-Kinds-of-Fur retreated to her corner and carefully removed her cloak. She washed the soot from her face and hands, then put on the dress as golden as the sun. When she looked in a cracked mirror, she gasped at her own transformation.

Slipping into the ballroom through a servants’ entrance, she joined the dancing. Her beauty was so radiant and her grace so perfect that everyone stopped to stare. The king himself was immediately captivated and danced with no one else the entire evening.

“Who are you, fair lady?” he asked. “I don’t recognize you from any of the noble families.”

“I am from a land where the sun always shines,” she replied mysteriously, offering no other explanation.

As midnight approached, she curtsied gracefully and disappeared before the king could stop her, leaving him bewildered and enchanted.

All-Kinds-of-Fur hurried back to the kitchen, hid her golden dress, and covered herself once again in the fur cloak and soot. When the servants returned from watching the ball, they found her apparently asleep by the fire.

The next morning, the king announced another ball, so taken was he with the mysterious lady in gold. Again, All-Kinds-of-Fur worked hard during the preparations, and again, when everyone had gone to the festivities, she transformed herself.

This time she wore the dress as silver as the moon, and if anything, she appeared even more beautiful than before. The king danced with her exclusively, begging her to tell him her name and homeland.

“I come from a land where the moon always shines,” was all she would say before vanishing once more at midnight.

For the third ball, All-Kinds-of-Fur appeared in the dress that glittered like the stars. The king was so overwhelmed by her beauty and mystery that he slipped his own ring onto her finger as they danced.

“Please,” he pleaded, “tell me who you are. I have fallen deeply in love with you.”

But again she disappeared at midnight, and this time the king was heartbroken, fearing he would never see her again.

The following day, the king fell into such a melancholy that he could barely eat. The head cook, concerned for his master’s health, decided to send their most capable servant to prepare something special.

“All-Kinds-of-Fur,” she called, “you have gentle hands. Make some soup for the king.”

All-Kinds-of-Fur prepared the finest soup she had ever made, seasoning it with herbs she remembered from her mother’s garden. Before carrying it to the king, she secretly dropped her mother’s golden ring into the bowl.

When the king found the ring in his soup—his own ring that he had placed on the mysterious lady’s finger—he immediately summoned whoever had prepared the meal.

All-Kinds-of-Fur appeared before him in her fur cloak, face blackened with soot. “Did you make this soup yourself?” he demanded.

“Yes, Your Majesty,” she replied in her rough disguised voice.

“This ring—how did it come to be in the soup?”

“I know nothing of any ring, Your Majesty. I only prepared soup as I was ordered.”

But the king looked more closely at the strange servant. Despite the soot and bizarre cloak, there was something familiar about her eyes, something graceful in her movement.

Several days later, the king again requested soup from All-Kinds-of-Fur. This time, she secretly dropped her mother’s golden spinning wheel into the bowl. When the king found this treasure, he again summoned the strange servant.

This time, he noticed that despite her disguise, her hands were as white and delicate as those of the mysterious dancing lady.

When he requested soup a third time, All-Kinds-of-Fur included her mother’s golden thimble. Upon finding it, the king could no longer deny his growing suspicions.

“Remove that ridiculous cloak,” he commanded.

“I cannot, Your Majesty,” she protested. “It would not be proper.”

But the king approached and pulled away the fur cloak himself. As it fell, golden hair tumbled free like captured sunshine, and when All-Kinds-of-Fur lifted her head, the king saw the face of his beloved mysterious lady.

“You!” he gasped. “You are the enchanting woman from the balls!”

She nodded, tears streaming down her cheeks as she told him her story—her father’s terrible demands, her desperate flight, and her months of hiding in his castle.

The king was filled with compassion and admiration. “Your courage and nobility shine brighter than all your beautiful dresses,” he declared. “Will you do me the honor of becoming my queen?”

Their wedding was celebrated throughout both kingdoms with great joy. The princess’s father, upon learning of his daughter’s new happiness and his own shameful behavior, renounced his throne and retired to a monastery to seek forgiveness for his sins.

The three magical dresses were displayed in the castle as symbols of the sun, moon, and stars that had watched over the princess during her trials. The cloak of many furs was kept as well, reminding all who saw it that sometimes our greatest treasures come disguised in the most humble appearances.

Queen All-Kinds-of-Fur, as she was lovingly known, ruled with wisdom and kindness, always remembering her time as a servant and ensuring that no one in her kingdom was ever judged by their appearance alone. Her story became a legend told throughout the land, inspiring others to look beyond surface appearances to find the true nobility that lies within the human heart.