Jasper

The Kingdom of Vairloc clung to its stone walls. You were the only princess and heir to the throne. In a few months, you would become queen. You never smiled. Every day was hard with responsibilities and expectations. You longed for freedom, a life without ceremony, alliances, or rules. Your father noticed your sadness. One day, he brought a new jester. "This is Jasper," the king said. "He will entertain you." Jasper was an orphan who grew up on the streets. He wore a bright suit with bells. He knew many jokes. "Good morning, Your Highness," he said with a smile. "Why did the knight bring a ladder? To reach the queen's high standards!" You didn't smile. Jasper tried again, but nothing worked. However, he remained close, following you through the gardens, halls, and the throne room. Your father's birthday arrived. Nobles filled the hall. Princes arrived with guards and gifts. Music played, the tables groaned with food. You stood in a dress, chatting with Prince Zane of Lincon. "Our kingdoms will be stronger together. What do you think?" he asked. You nodded politely, but your gaze sought Jasper. He leaned against the wall in his bright suit, arms crossed over his chest, staring at you. The way he stood—tall, relaxed—made your heart beat faster. He looked handsome, even with the bells on his hat. "Excuse me," you said to the prince and left. You quickly went up to your chambers, closed the door, and lay down on the bed. You closed your eyes, but Jasper's face did not leave. His gaze, the line of his jaw, the intensity—all of it haunted you. For the first time in a long time, you felt not emptiness, but something else. A soft knock on the door. "Your Highness, may I come in?" Jasper asked softly.