A Tale of Fur and Flesh

By Giselle Renarde

Princess Lally has lived in misery for many years. After fleeing her father’s kingdom, she takes refuge in darker realms, surrounded by a forest of shapeshifting creatures. Disguised as a peasant girl under layers of furs, she seeks shelter and protection in the land of good King Aelwyn. Will Lally remain in the dark world of shapeshifters for all time? Or will the secret princess find relief from her suffering in the one man who treats her with kindness?

A romantic adaptation of the fairy tale Allerleirauh.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Giselle Renarde
• Release date: Oct 10, 2022
• ISBN: 9781005614874

Giselle Renarde

Giselle Renarde is a queer Canadian, avid volunteer, and contributor to more than 100 short story anthologies, including Best Women's Erotica, Best Lesbian Erotica, Best Bondage Erotica, and Best Lesbian Romance. Ms Renarde has written dozens of juicy books, including Anonymous, Ondine, and Nanny State. Her book The Red Satin Collection won Best Transgender Romance in the 2012 Rainbow Awards. Giselle lives across from a park with two bilingual cats who sleep on her head.

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A Tale of Fur and Flesh © 2011, 2022 by Giselle Renarde

All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental. All sexually active characters in this work are 18 years of age or older.

This book is for sale to ADULT AUDIENCES ONLY. It contains substantial sexually explicit scenes and graphic language which may be considered offensive by some readers. Please store your files where they cannot be accessed by minors.

Cover design © 2022 Giselle Renarde

First Edition 2011 by Excessica Publishing

Second Edition 2022 by Giselle Renarde

Warning: the unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in prison and a fine of $250,000.

Table of Contents

Disclaimer

A Tale of Fur and Flesh

The Past

The Tale | Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

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ABOUT GISELLE RENARDE

A Tale of Fur and Flesh

By Giselle Renarde

The Past

It is most strange , what one recalls of the past.  Memory, like a dense fog, reveals only what it will.  It is capricious.  It is fickle.  All that it does not reveal is simply lost.  Best not to dwell on the failure of memory.  To dwell might easily bring one to question the competency of its creator. 

Lally, her mother’s voice echoed as they plucked buttercups by the riverside. 

That was so long ago. 

As an adult, the recollection of her mother’s broad smile bathed Allerleirauh in warming light. 

Foolish Lally! mummy went on with gentle reproach.  Why must you gnaw at your nails?  Fingers are not food.

"Fingers are food!" Lally giggled, tapping them against mummy’s soft lips.

Mummy pretended to devour her small fingers.  Yum, yum, yum!  My little Lally is yummy-nummy-nummy! she laughed.  Her voice was like bells.  With love and admiration, Lally laughed along.

But that was so very long ago, when mummy was alive.

Lally never laughed like that anymore.

The Tale

Chapter One

Many years ago, good King Galyn and gentle Queen Gwladys led our righteous land.  The queen’s great and glorious beauty was known across the territory and in nations beyond.  She was adored by all she encountered, and deeply loved by those closest to her.  The pinnacle of her splendour was a cascade of luxurious hair that shone like strands of gold.

What a troll, Lally said to herself as she read. 

Her pensive longing to know more about mother was interrupted by the thought that these words had been written by Offal, her father’s devil of a councillor. 

Where did he plan to record her many competencies?  Yes, Queen Gwladys had been beautiful, but beauty was hardly an accomplishment.  What of her peace-keeping efforts in times of war?  What of the ties she established with neighbouring nations?  Her mother had been much more than a pretty woman with long golden hair. 

If councillor Offal wished to compose a history of her parents’ reign, was it too much to ask that it be accurate?

Before reading on from the unfinished manuscript, she peeked out into the stone hallway.  She hadn’t heard anyone afoot, but last time Offal caught her rifling through his private affairs, she felt the lick of his boot against her backside.  She couldn’t be too careful.  Of all the castle-dwellers, he was the cleverest and thus the greatest threat. 

King Galyn doted on his fair wife and loved her all the more upon the birth of their only child, Princess Lally.  Lally was a gleeful girl whose great fortune it was to have two deeply caring parents.  The royal family was often seen walking together through the vast forests of their kingdom.  It was a custom of both mother and golden-haired child to fill their baskets with small objects of interest. 

Buttercups, Lally recalled. And acorns, and mushrooms...

On the afternoon of Sunday May the Ninth, the beloved queen, the king, and their princess daughter went searching the forest for edible fungi.  Stricken by a springtime cold, Queen Gwladys was congested and her vision blurred.  She plucked a seemingly harmless mushroom from the base of a Larch tree.  Dusting it against her skirts, she sunk her teeth into the mallow top. 

Soon after, her stomach began to burn. 

The queen felt quite incapable of supporting herself. 

Her loyal husband, perceiving his wife’s illness, lifted her from the spongy soil and carried her home.  There, the ailing queen was put to bed.

Gwladys summoned her pretty daughter, aged only eight years. 

My darling Lally, said she.  A most fortunate mother am I, to have such a worthy daughter.  Caring and curious, generous and gentle, you deserve all that is good in this world.  Pray, do not forget that I love you.

All conjecture, of course, unless Offal had been hovering in the rafters of her mother’s bedchamber during that private moment. 

Lally still remembered the blood her mother coughed into her handkerchief.  She envisioned the scene from outside herself now: golden-haired child throwing plump arms across her precious mummy’s waist, wiping her tear-stained face across the down duvet.  She tried so hard to be a brave girl until mummy got better.

My cherished daughter, there is something I wish for you to have, mummy whispered.  It was a secret only for them to know.  In Lally’s little hand, she placed an enchanted walnut.  It looked just like any other walnut, but contained a secret that could only be revealed when the perfect time arose.

But when will it open? Lally whined.  She hadn’t realized the immensity of the gift, nor the severity of her mother’s illness.  I want the secret now, Mummy.  Please show me what’s inside.

I can’t, my darling, her mother replied.  The secret gift is yours now.

Lally hated this memory.  Its persistence goaded her, like a crowd of hecklers urging one toward a precipice.  How could she not have seen what was coming?  Yes, she was young, but she should have known.

The blackness of death hovered over the queen’s bed, its foul stench penetrating the chamber.  Queen Gwladys called her husband to her side and whispered to him, I am a most fortunate of wives.  How worthy a husband have I!  You, who have sat at my bedside and spoken kind words to me.  Galyn, my love, you deserve nothing less than the best of all things.  I bid you promise, if you ever wish to marry again, take only a wife who possesses my great beauty.  Take only a wife who has just such golden hair as I have.

Foul rumour!  Her mother was never so vain; she wouldn’t have said such a thing.  Lally didn’t believe it for a second.  At any rate, how could her father ever grow to love