Fanta-Ghirò the Beautiful a personalized book with your child as the hero

In a kingdom of grey stone towers and wide green fields lived a king with three daughters. In his hall stood three chairs. The red chair meant he was angry. The black chair meant he was worried. The blue chair meant that all was well and he was glad. Everyone in the castle knew the chairs, and each morning they peeped in to see which one the king had chosen.

One morning the three sisters came into the hall and found their father on the black chair. The red and blue chairs stood empty beside him. He held his chin in his hand and stared at the window.

"A neighbouring kingdom lies just beyond the hills," he said. "I don't know whether its ruler wants friendship or trouble. I should like to send word, but I don't know who could carry it."

The eldest sister said a messenger in a fine gown and a golden brooch would do. The middle sister said a large escort with banners would show the king's importance. The king shook his head. Neither plan seemed right.

The youngest daughter was Fanta-Ghirò, and she had been thinking quietly. "Father, a fine gown and a crowd will only make them nervous," she said. "Let me go. Everyone watches a princess, but nobody watches a traveller. I can learn more, and I can offer friendship without any fuss."

The king looked at her for a long time. At last he gave a small smile. "You are the smallest of my daughters, but you have the sharpest mind. You may go, if a trusted guide rides beside you."

Fanta-Ghirò chose a plain deep-teal tunic with cream sleeves, soft ochre trousers, strong brown boots and a short blue cape. She left her jewels in their box. The king gave her a scroll sealed with wax. When she turned it over, she saw there was nothing written on it at all.

"The words are yours to say," said her father. "The seal only shows that you come from me."

She and her guide rode out at dawn along the winding road. Mist lay in the valleys and larks rose from the fields. The guide, who had known her since she was small, watched her sit tall in the saddle and said nothing, only smiled. By afternoon the neighbouring castle rose ahead of them on its hill.

The gate keeper led them into a garden full of roses and clipped hedges. There an old gardener stood beside a small table. On the table lay a tray of glittering trinkets and, beside it, a coil of rope and a lantern.

"Answer my riddle," said the gardener. "I have keys but open no locks, and I have space but no room. What am I?"

Fanta-Ghirò thought of the doors and keys she knew. "A keyboard," she said. "Or perhaps a map with its key and its empty space. I think the riddle is about something with signs and places for them."

"A good guess," the gardener chuckled. "Now choose one thing from this table to carry with you."

The trinkets shone like little stars. But Fanta-Ghirò remembered the long road home, with dusk coming early in the hills. She picked up the rope and the lantern. "A shining thing is pretty," she said, "but a light and a rope may help someone in the dark."

The gardener bowed. "Many walk out of here with trinkets. Few walk out with sense."

A servant then led her into the great hall. The neighbouring ruler sat at a table with a chessboard laid out before him, and all his courtiers stood around, expecting an easy game against a young stranger.

"I hear you carry a message," said the ruler. "But first, play with me."

Fanta-Ghirò sat down. She did not hurry. She watched the board as she had once watched birds in the orchard, and moved her pieces carefully. The courtiers whispered. Then she slid her bishop across the board, and the ruler's king had nowhere to go.

The hall fell quiet. The ruler stared at the board, then at her. Then he laughed out loud. "I have not been beaten like that in years! Who taught you?"

"My sisters, and a lot of rainy afternoons," said Fanta-Ghirò. She put down the sealed scroll. "My father sends no words but this: he would like to be your friend."

The ruler was about to answer when a messenger hurried in, dusty from the road. He bowed to Fanta-Ghirò and gave her a letter. It was in her sisters' hand. It said her father had been sitting alone on the black chair since she left, and the castle missed her.

The ruler was already waving a servant forward. "I have another test planned for you, a harder one," he said.

Fanta-Ghirò folded the letter. "It sounds like a good one," she said kindly, "and I'd love to try it another day. But my family needs me now."

The ruler looked at her, and he understood. "Then go home, and tell your father the tests are over. I would like to visit him."

She rode through the evening with her lantern swinging from the saddle, and her guide beside her. It was nearly dark when she reached the castle and ran up the stairs to the hall.

There sat her father, and he was not on the black chair. He was on the blue chair, smiling as widely as she had ever seen. Her sisters stood beside him.

"A rider came ahead of you," he said, "with word from the neighbouring ruler. He says his kingdom wants peace." He opened his arms, and Fanta-Ghirò ran into them.

A week later the courtyard of the castle was hung with bunting. Long tables were piled with bread, fruit and honey cakes, and in the middle of the biggest table stood a chessboard. The neighbouring ruler and his people had come over the hills, and the king's people greeted them at the gate.

Fanta-Ghirò, in her teal tunic and blue cape, welcomed each guest by name. The ruler asked for a rematch, and she accepted. Everyone gathered around to watch, and for once nobody minded who won.

The red chair stayed empty, the black chair stayed empty, and the king sat on the blue chair in the sunshine for the rest of the day.