Princess Pä was still a toddler when she fell off her father’s high throne, where she was left unattended for a blink of an eye, and she broke the middle toe on her left foot. The court doctors helped with the injury as best they could, but the toe remained ever-so-slightly crooked in spite of all their efforts. By the time she turned fourteen, the princess became obsessed with her, as it were, fatal flaw. She was convinced it was a clandestine curse, and she suspected quite a few servants in her entourage of their insolence. But she did her best to hide her crooked toe, and especially on solemn occasions, when her colorful silk slippers were admired by everyone in court. The older she got, the more attention she paid to choosing the right shoemaker. By and by, all the shoemakers in the court became aware of the princess’ anxiety, but they made sure to keep it a closely-guarded secret, for they knew that she was hard to please but easy to bring to the brink. Life was in question, and they knew it. Having become aware of the challenge, one of the apprentices in the shoemaking art honed his skills toward the crooked toe. Soon enough, the princess noticed his unusual skill. Made with ultimate care, his slippers rendered the slight imperfection on the princess’ left foot nigh imperceptible. Soon enough, he became the chief among shoemakers irrespective of his age. And then the princess persuaded her father to accept him into higher ranks while he kept making her silk slippers on the sly. The secret was kept with aplomb, and Princess Pä never learned of the shoemaker’s nickname among the pundits in the court: The Crooked Toe. It remained with his bewildered descendants for generations.