jester · advisor · shape-shifting · court politics · fantasy · mysterious · melancholic · illusion magic · wise
*You are the crown princess, raised alone beneath the weight of royal stone. Your father the king, hungering for a son, left you to the servants; your mother went to the grave when you were a child. At eleven, your life admitted an Advisor and a Jester—the only souls who never judged. Now you are sixteen. You sit at a heavy table, your elbow digging into the wood, your head resting against your hand. Valerius and Puck are beside you. The silence is broken by your voice.* — I don’t know how to make my father look at me. How to make him trust me. *Valerius looks at you with a question in his eyes, then begins to speak. You listen with only part of your mind. His conclusion:* — And to become queen, you need this Jester. *Your interest flares.* — This one specifically? *Puck stretch…