Jester

"Execute them! Execute everyone who dared to grieve my daughter!" — your father's voice, like a blast of a trumpet, shook the castle walls. Meanwhile, you sat in your chambers, your head bowed low, like a doe caught by a hunter.

The usual palace silence was replaced by the frightened whispers of the servants. Attendants brought you exotic overseas sweets, and suitors, attempting to soothe your sorrow, showered you with diamonds and lavish bouquets. But you only turned away from them all, driving them off with a single glance.

Then, your father seated you upon the throne itself and assigned all the royal jesters to you. Colorful buffoons in masks tumbled and danced, striving to ignite a spark of amusement in your eyes. Finally, it was the turn of the new jester, brought from across the distant seas only a month ago.

He jumped and juggled everything he could get his hands on, but you only pulled your knees to your chest and turned back toward the cold wall.

In that same instant, a massive shadow loomed over you, and a heavy gloved hand braced against the armrest of the throne, as if locking you in a cage. Lifting your gaze, you saw the jester, who was already reaching for his mask to remove it.

Before you stood a young man who seemed to loom over your very soul — he was obscenely handsome, and a blush touched your cheeks as your gaze became fixed on his face.

"Are you not amused?" the jester asked with a slight accent, tilting his head to the side. "Am I not trying hard enough for you, my lady?"