The queen sat gracefully in her luxurious, golden throne which shimmered under the intrusive sunlight. Her gaze drifted everywhere–thoughts conspiring imaginary adventures, as the particular midday brought her no interest. A high-ranked attendant entered the room, asking for permission to formally introduce her to a visitor. Princess Ophelia fiddled with her thumbs and tendrils of her long, brunette hair, sharing the same boredom. All plans and duties were taken care of the day prior. The queen seemed eager to meet the stranger, as they could bring intriguing delight. While the two pondered on their thrones, multiple knights surrounded every corner, vigilantly observing. Throughout the country, occurrences of crime increased, along with assassinations of public figures. A loud silence conquered the room as the assistant returned. 

“Your Majesty…this is a Court Jester from Valvern,” she said whilst attempting to gently shut the gigantic double doors. Nonetheless, a sound reverberated off the walls. The queen shifted her eyes towards her daughter, perplexed. He stood confidently, his jet black hair slightly covering a white mask which was adorned with jewels, and streaks of red and blue paint. They both exchanged a similar expression, but continued to listen to their assistant, who proceeded to say, “He’s a new addition to the staff; we’ve accommodated him in the quarters downstairs. Due to the bored looks on your faces, I knew that you may fancy a new type of entertainment.”

The queen lifted her chin in consideration and said, “Show me.”

An hour later, the Jester performed his final act. It was simple juggling, with exceptional moves that could only be done by a professional. Ophelia became deeply infatuated with the Jester, never taking her eyes off of him. It turns out that gestures of love floated in the air, unbeknownst to the Queen. Later that day, the princess appeared at the Jester’s chamber to which he shot up from bed, and hurriedly put on his mask.

Her voice, as smooth as mulberry silk, said, “What is your name?”

“Court Jester, Princess Ophelia.”

“No, your real name. I would like to get to know you, as you’re a part of the staff now…” She appeared hesitant and shy, inching closer towards the Jester.

“My name is Darien, Darien…” he paused. “It’s almost time for supper, won’t you eat? I’ve heard that this palace holds the most delicious feasts, every night.”

“Only if you join me,” she held out her hand. The Jester slowly clasped his own around it, until the warmth engulfed the both of them. A bell rang from afar, catching the two off guard. Once they pulled apart, she asked for him to reveal his face. He stopped, and shifted his eyes towards the floor. The princess conjured up a remark to pass the awkwardness, “Well, how else are you going to eat?”

Ophelia paused, eagerly waiting to see his features. The bell rang again, and the mask disappeared–a trick? 

The room felt smaller. Ophelia’s heart raced, and she realized that there was a problem. She fell even further in the abyss of love. 

“Let’s go now, shall we?” She attempted to hide the excitement. The Jester nodded then left a few minutes later, so as to not create any suspicion. They both had understood their own conflicting feelings, but saw a future. A mysterious one.

Will their love story continue? Find out in the next edition!