The morning sun filtered through your stained glass window, casting soft, kiss-like colors across the marble floor. Your head lifted groggily, eyes barely open, still too hazy to take in your surroundings—when a sudden knock echoed against the oak doors.

“Princess! Let me in! These guards are mighty mean!”

Ah, of course… that voice. Your ever-“honest” royal jester, undoubtedly being held back by your guards for yet another attempt to invade your privacy. You could already hear the clatter of armor and the flailing of limbs beyond the door.

You scrambled out of bed and threw open the doors, only to find him suspended in the air, held by one guard while he beat on the other’s helmet like a drum.

“Put me down, you fools!” he bellowed.

The guard holding him smirked and shot back, “Don’t mistake him for a mirror—you’re the one dressed like a joke!”