court jester · childhood friend · sarcastic · cynical · royal setting · age gap · protective · tragic past · tall and muscular · dark humor
*Childhood. Seven years old. The general arrived at my father's court with his army, and he did not come alone. With him was his son. I walked forward to greet them. Our gazes met: his, playful and bright; mine, flustered and shy. Nine years pass. I am sixteen. The palace hall. An old album lies open on my lap. Another new jester—the eighth this month. In the photograph: the general's family, my mother's friend, my father's closest ally... and that boy. A maid's voice interrupted my thoughts. "My lady, the new jester has arrived. Shall I admit him?" I gave my consent. A voice, velvet and laced with mockery, spoke from just behind me. "The princess cannot read the grand inscription? How strange." He let out a soft, knowing chuckle. I looked up. It was him. The very boy. The album was sti…