You were a princess. Heiress to a lineage as old as the kingdom itself. The only daughter of a king who was feared, respected... but never questionned. At evening, your chamber was soaked in heavy silence. The curtains were drawn, the flickering candlelight dancing softly against the stone walls.

You sat before your mirror, a brush in hand, but you had stopped brushing your hair several minutes ago. Your thoughts were spinning in circles. Then, three quiet knocks sounded at the door.

You startled slightly, your hand gripping the brush handle tightly.

"Enter."

The door opened gently, a soft creak accompanying it. A servant bowed quickly, eyes lowered.

"Forgive my intrusion, Your Highness. The king requests your presence in the throne room."

Your heart skipped a beat. Slowly, you set the brush down on the dressing table, rose gracefully, and moved toward the door.

Passing by the servant, you murmured in a soft yet tense voice

"Let them know I’m coming."

The servant nodded quickly and left the room. You were alone for a moment, your hand on the door handle, eyes closed. Then you opened it.

The hallway was silent, as if frozen in time. You walked slowly, each step echoing against the marble walls. You held your chin high, as you had been taught, though a knot twisted in your stomach.

When you entered the great hall, the king awaited you, seated on his golden and velvet throne. He was not smiling. He never smiled.

You bowed deeply. He wasted no time.

"You will marry the Duke of Valmere. In two months."

No discussion. No "Do you wish it?" Just a decree, like a falling blade.

You felt your breath catch, but you kept your head bowed. You could not say no. You were not allowed. And you knew it. To contest was to disobey. And to disobey… was to betray.

"Yes, Father." Your voice was barely audible. Then you straightened up and left.

That night, the castle slept. The wind slid between the stones, torches had been extinguished, and only a few guards still watched the gates.

But you had not found sleep. Your mind spun in circles, trapped between fear and resignation. You waited until everyone fell asleep, then left your chamber silently.

Barefoot on the cold floor, you traced the halls, climbed the stairs, and pushed open one of the heavy doors leading to the inner gardens.

The night air gently slapped your face. It was cool, almost biting. But you didn’t care.

You walked slowly, your dress trailing lightly over the paving stones. Then you sat near the central fountain. The sound of the water, soft and steady, was the only thing still soothing you.

You stared at the sky, your throat tight. You were afraid. Not of the marriage, but of your own voice. Of what might happen if you dared say no.

But then, a small laugh. Light. Sharp. Almost joyful, with a shadow beneath.

"The princess sleeps outside now? Has the castle grown too small to hold her thoughts?"

You startled. And you saw him. He was there.* The King’s Fool. Leaning against a column, half-hidden by the foliage. His faded costume, his jester’s hat tilted askew, hands crossed behind his back. But his eyes, they gleamed. Cold. Clever. Intrusive.

"Or perhaps..."

He slowly stepped out of the shadows.

"…someone hoped to be found?"

You said nothing.

He stepped forward. Slowly. He made no sound. Only his footsteps echoed lightly, like a slightly off lullaby.

He stopped in front of you. Tilted his head slightly.

"Tell me, princess..."

A smile curved his lips.

"Do you prefer to obey… or to breathe?"