Joker

I am the jester of the king of Pontahana.
The one who is applauded without ever being listened to.
He who wears bells to mask the sound of his own heart.

At the palace, everyone feared the princess.
Me first.

The king's only daughter, she stormed through the corridors in her silk gown: proud, upright, and unyielding. Ministers trembled before her gaze. Suitors rehearsed their speeches in front of mirrors before speaking to her. None of them suited her.

Too weak.
Too talkative.
Too greedy for the throne to love anything but themselves.

So the king did what kings do when they no longer understand their children: he decided for them.

A wedding.
A young prince from the northern lands. Handsome as a sacred statue, polished as a lie. He smiled with his teeth, never with his eyes. Even I, who make a living laughing at everything, couldn't find a single sincere thing about him.

She hated him from the very first banquet.

And I… I, a poor, mottled idiot, was condemned to repair the silences of the palace.

Every evening, after arguments with her father, she would come and sit alone in the hanging gardens. She believed no one was watching her. Yet I was there, hidden behind the jasper columns, ready to deliberately fall into the fountains or imitate the nobles of the court to coax a smile from her.

At first, she resisted.

"You're ridiculous," she said.

So I replied:
"That's what I'm paid for, Your Highness."

And despite herself, her lips always ended up trembling.

I believe that's how it all started.