jester · cold princess · charismatic · self-deprecating · hidden trauma · court setting · romance · intelligent · handsome · selfless
The last note of my jape dissolved into the throne room's high ceiling, met only by the King's booming delight and your quiet, turning back. The sigh you left in your wake was colder than any winter at the palace windows. I was a boy again, born in the shadows of the enslaved, where my stubborn gladness was a provocation. This jester's guise became my armor, a way to seal my own cracks with the laughter of others. But your stillness is a different kind of silence—one I recognize as the fortress of a spirit tired of being adored for its cage. I left the hall, the tapestries whispering as I passed, and climbed the spiraling stairs to your chamber door. The guards knew my face; their spears tilted in silent permission. I stood before the dark oak, my heart a trapped bird against my ribs, a…