A long time ago, there lived a king whose wife had passed away. The late queen owned a pair of golden slippers. When the king wished to remarry, he had the following proclamation made: ‘I shall marry the woman whose feet fit the queen’s golden slippers.’

Now the king had a daughter named Curia. One day she went into her late mother’s chamber, slipped on the golden slippers, and they fit her perfectly. So she went to the king and asked: ‘Dear Father, will you give me the golden slippers?’

But the king looked at his daughter and said: ‘You shall have the slippers, but only if you become my bride. This is my command!’ The beautiful Curia turned pale when she heard this and, in her distress, fled to her godmother.

Her godmother lived in a grand palace with numerous servants. She gave the king’s daughter the clothes of a maid so that no one could recognise her, and had her feed the chickens and tend the pigs. And so a long time passed.

One day, her godmother held a ball. She had three beautiful dresses made for Curia so that she could dance. A young prince also attended the ball. When he saw the beautiful Curia in her sky-blue dress and wanted to dance with her all evening. But she feared being recognised, so she let her ring fall, and as she bent down to pick it up, she fled unseen from the ballroom and hid in the henhouse.

On the second day, Curia no longer dared to go to the ball, but her godmother gave her the second dress, adorned with the moon and the stars. No sooner had the prince spotted her than he rushed towards her and danced with her all evening. This time, too, she dropped the ring, and although the prince held her hand, she fled from the ballroom unrecognised.

On the third day, her godmother gave her the third dress, the dress of the sun, and as she entered the ballroom, the prince took her by the hand and asked: “Most beautiful princess, please tell me your name!”

“My name is Curia, fair Curia,” and with these words she leapt out of the ballroom as fast as she could and hid once more. The prince went after her, but he could not find her anywhere. He grew sadder by the day, and out of sheer longing for Curia, he eventually fell ill. Her godmother visited him and wanted to give him a glass of water, but he said: “I will not drink a drop of water unless the fair Curia with the ring comes to me!”

So the godmother sent for Curia. Curia put on her most beautiful dress, the sun dress, and when she stood before the prince, it seemed as though the sun were rising.

And so fair Curia became the prince’s bride, and they lived in joy and happiness.

Fassung Djamila Jaenike, nach "Curia, schöne Curia", in:  C. Decurtins/U. Brunold-Bigler/K. Widmer, Die drei Hunde, Rätoromanische Märchen aus dem Engadin, Oberhalbstein, Schams, Chur 2004,Übersetzung Lysander Jaenike©Mutabor