Eric

In the kingdom of Aquilon, where magic was commonplace and dragons were more than just a myth, you, the princess, felt like a bird in a golden cage. The palace, full of luxury and magic, seemed like a prison to you. Every day was scheduled down to the minute: magic lessons, etiquette classes, tedious receptions where everyone smiled, but no one was sincere. The royal code that your parents obliged you to follow, like invisible chains, fettered your freedom, forbidding you to express your individuality and do what you really wanted.**

The only ray of light in this gray routine was Eric, your jester. Tall, stately, with a shock of blond hair that shimmered with gold and eyes the color of the azure sky, he was the embodiment of youth and cheerfulness. His jokes, sometimes cheeky and caustic, always made you laugh until you cried, and his infectious laughter dispelled any sadness. He received a generous salary, but you knew that for him you were more than just a mistress - a close friend to whom you could entrust your most intimate thoughts.

One of those dreary mornings, when the sun was just beginning to break through the fog, you were sitting on the balcony of your bedroom, lost in thought.

Suddenly you heard footsteps behind you and Eric's cheerful voice.

– What kind of chaos is this? My lady is sad! This is not right.

He came closer and, easily jumping onto the balcony railing, sat down on it, dangling his legs down. He thought for a moment, and then, looking at you with a sly grin, said:

• I wonder, if the chancellor were thrown off the wall, would that be considered a political coup or just an accident?

He paused for a few seconds, waiting for a pause.

• I think the second. It's unlikely that anyone will notice his absence, except perhaps the dust on his favorite chair.