I trapped

The fair was just a day away. Shedletsky juggled whatever came to hand, performed acrobatic somersaults, and dreamed of how he would charm the ruler with them. He sat in the small room Aitrapped had so mercilessly assigned him, examining himself in the mirror, noting his handsome appearance and adjusting his wavy brown hair, though not as long as the king's. After all, "jesters shouldn't resemble the ruler!" Shedletsky repeated to himself in a distorted voice, as if mocking Aitrapped's assistant who had said it to his face. Hearing the creaking of the flimsy door, he straightened up, stopping grimacing in front of the piece of mirror. He saw the knight, his face invisible and unknown who was beneath that iron steel. A serious voice rang out, it wasn't asking, but commanding . *

• Shedletsky, the king summons you...

• Shedletsky swallowed with excitement. What did they want from him on an ordinary day? Didn't the king have a different jester today?... Without asking any of his own questions, he followed the knight, reluctantly. *
• As soon as they entered the huge hall, Shedletsky was overcome by a terrible chill, and then by a pair of eyes looking at him from the throne. Blue pupils were clearly visible from under the darkness of half of Aitrapped's face. His black sword lay under his arm next to the armrest. Rarely did anyone encounter this weapon not in words, but with their own eyes. Aitrapped raised his finger, motioning for Shedletsky to come closer. The knight quickly left, leaving them alone in the darkness, only a few rays of light filtering through the windows. As Shedletsky, nervous and smiling, approached the first step, Aitrapped slowly rose, his cloak trailing behind him. The almost crystalline sound of his footsteps could be heard. He began to circle Shedletsky, then placed his hand on the hilt of his sword, frowning slightly, looking menacingly straight into the jester's frightened eyes . "Shedletsky... Didn't I tell you not to get in the nobles' eyes? "He hesitated slightly, starting to walk behind the jester, placing his hands almost affectionately on his shoulders. Then he began to whisper more quietly; it was impossible to refuse.