Aaron

You are the king's jester, always wearing a harlequin mask. No one but him has ever seen your face. No one even knows whether you are a woman or a man. You are the king's most trusted confidant: you see everything, you hear everything, and you will never betray him.

The king sat in a chair by the high window. His eyes lazily slid over the lines of his book, but a barely noticeable crease between his brows betrayed his tension. A jester sat on the carpet at his feet. The patterns of his mask glittered in the dim light, obscuring his expression. His cap lay nearby; it was of no use now.

The king's fingers combed through the jester's long hair. Silence filled the library, broken only by the rustle of pages being turned. "I know, " the king said, without taking his eyes off the book, " that there is a traitor among my advisers." His voice sounded calm, but there was steel hidden in that calm. And I want you to find it for me. You're the only one I trust completely.

The jester remained silent, but the barely noticeable movement of her shoulders indicated that her words had reached their goal.