The King’s Witch – A Twisted Fairy Tale of Frogs, Witches, and Bitter Love

Once upon a peculiar time, a young girl kissed a frog, and to her surprise, the frog transformed into a handsome prince. They married, and as the tales go, they were supposed to live happily ever after.

But reality, as it often does, was a bit messier.

For a while, the couple lived in bliss, enjoying the grand castle life. That is, until the birth of their first child—a son who, much to his mother’s horror, looked nothing like the prince she married. Instead, the baby bore an uncanny resemblance to a frog: long spindly limbs, a flat nose, bulging eyes, and a mouth so wide it nearly stretched ear to ear.

He croaked instead of crying, hiccupped incessantly, and every time his mother looked at him, she felt an almost irresistible urge to toss him into the same pond where she’d first met his father. Showing off her froggy-looking heir was out of the question. To avoid social embarrassment, she constantly made excuses to friends:
“Oh, he’s terribly sick today—colic, perhaps!”
“Just a mild fever, but best not to catch it!”
“Teething troubles, you understand!”

Worse still, the prince-turned-king adored the little croaker. He spent hours with his son, chuckling at every hiccup and croak. Eventually, the queen could stand it no longer. When the boy turned three months old, she suggested that perhaps it was time for boarding school.

The king was stunned.
“How did you ever break my enchantment?” he asked bitterly. “You couldn’t have possibly loved me as a frog.”

She didn’t deny it.
“I have an extraordinary imagination,” she replied coolly. “When I kissed you, I wasn’t loving the frog—I was loving the prince I imagined you’d become. That was all the love I could muster.”

That confession, unsurprisingly, soured their happiness. The castle grew colder, not in temperature, but in affection.

The Queen’s Escape

One day, the disillusioned queen stumbled upon an announcement: a prestigious Fairy Godmother School was opening in a neighboring kingdom. To her, it was a sign—an elegant escape from the dreary castle life and a family she neither loved nor understood.

She told herself she was doing it for the greater good—for children like her unfortunate son who needed divine intervention. She left without a backward glance.

At the school, she did well enough—not the best in her class, but skilled enough to graduate and begin her godmother internship. She started helping children, bestowing minor blessings and magical aids. Life felt purposeful, until the day she laid eyes on Wilhelmina.

Wilhelmina was perfection incarnate: golden curls, sparkling eyes, skin like porcelain. Every fairy godmother in training had contributed a blessing, making her thrice-blessed. The former queen stared, unable to believe the injustice. That should have been her child—a beauty she could proudly present to any gathering.

Jealousy gnawed at her. She snapped,
“You fools! You’ve doomed this child to be swarmed by suitors and fortune-hunters. Let me protect her from such a fate! From now on, anyone who touches this child’s skin shall break out in hives!”

She convinced herself it was a kindness, but the Council of Fairy Godmothers thought otherwise. They banished her—to the moon no less—condemned to sulk in solitude.

The Offer from the Witches

But the moon wasn’t so lonely after all. While she brooded, a shadowy delegation appeared—the Council of Witches.

They admired her spirit.
“You have great potential,” they purred. “Would you like to hear our offer?”

Their proposition was irresistible. They had been grooming a warrior king, a conqueror in need of cunning magical support. With her raw talent, the former godmother could become his trusted sorceress—if she embraced a darker path.

She agreed. Training began, not in granting blessings, but in crafting schemes, weaving spells, and conjuring power plays. And with that, the Frog’s Princess became the King’s Witch—a formidable figure by the side of a ruthless monarch.

Moral of the Story

Sometimes, love built on imagination can turn bitter when reality fails to match dreams. And not all fairy godmothers are destined for happy endings—some become witches, and some, like the queen, simply find their true calling in the shadows.