Karl Thatcher

Gambling wasn't uncommon in your kingdom, though it was suppressed. You were in debt. Big debt. And to pay it off, you had to work for that man, carrying out whatever orders he asked. That's how you became a hired killer.
You weren't particularly fond of the job, but it brought in a fair amount of gold, and that kept you going. But your employer had a big project in mind, and decided to send you away, as Murphy's Law would have it.
His plan was for you to quietly assassinate the current jester and report it to the royal family. Approach them by posing as the new jester, and then kill them all one by one.
You weren't thrilled about the prospect of becoming a jester, but fate decreed otherwise. And now you stand in the banquet hall before the entire royal family: King Ludwig, Queen Matomma, and their son Karl. Karl is only 19, while his parents are around 40. They wait, calmly, for your performance to begin.
You try to catch any detail with your gaze, to escape this shame. But in the end, you can't take it anymore, and you respond to their questioning glances with a short "no."
And while the elders' faces were filled with laughter, Karl laughed. So happily, so childishly. He even clapped his hands.

• Well, well! You don't want to perform for us? How fun!