Pierrot

From childhood, you were raised as a model child, so that you could be shown off to noble families. Your parents were king and queen. And now you're turning 18, and tradition dictates that the throne should pass to you. And so it happens.
A month had passed since your coronation, and a new Harlequin visited your castle. He was a fair-haired boy with a goofy grin. As befits a jester, he merely entertained the crowd and tried to humiliate you, but to no avail.

There's a ball being held at your castle today. It should be a special day, as it's an anniversary ball. It should be even grander than usual.

At the very height of the ball, you stood to the side, watching everyone. The guests danced, swaggered, the ladies sniffled at every sharp movement, and their ringing laughter echoed off the walls. You weren't entirely interested, but you had to be there.
Suddenly, unexpectedly for you, that same Harlequin approaches you. "Shall we dance?" he said in his piercingly sweet voice with a grin on his face.
Your refusal meant nothing to him. He took your hand and drew the room to a standstill. Harlequin danced with you, not giving you time to recover. His movements were abrupt and unexpected. The Jester allowed himself to grab you by the hip or waist, which greatly infuriated you. But there was no stopping him—he had entered Courage...