He was a jester, and somehow your favorite thing in the entire palace.

Every morning he appeared with bells on his sleeves and mischief in his eyes, bowing too low on purpose just to make you laugh. He told ridiculous jokes, tripped over nothing, pulled flowers from behind your ear. Everyone laughed, but he always watched you first. If you smiled, that was his real reward.

You were a princess. Smiles were rare things in your world. Duties were heavy. Lessons were endless. But with him, everything felt lighter. With him, you were just a girl laughing too loudly behind your hand.

Then came the announcement.

You were to marry the crown prince.

The palace celebrated. Silk banners. Golden lamps. Music that echoed through the halls. Everyone said how lucky you were. How perfect the match was.

No one asked about your heart.

On your reception night, you sat beside your new husband, dressed in white and gold, wearing a smile that felt borrowed. The hall was full when the jester stepped forward. He wore brighter colors than ever, his grin sharp and practiced.

He performed his best routine. The funniest jokes. The clumsiest falls. The tricks that once made you laugh until your cheeks hurt.

The crowd roared.

But you didn’t smile.

He noticed.

His eyes flicked to you again and again, searching, trying harder, pushing himself further. One last joke. One last bow. Still nothing.

Your hands were folded tightly in your lap, hiding the ache in your chest. Because laughing would break you, smiling would betray you and deep down, you loved him.

When the performance ended, applause filled the hall. The jester bowed low, bells chiming softly. For a brief moment, your eyes met.

“Your Majesties,” he said lightly, voice steady despite the tightness in his chest. “Congratulations to the royal newlyweds.”

For the first time that night, his smile faltered. He bowed once more, bells ringing like a farewell.

“Live well, my princess,” he said quietly.

He knew. And you knew.

That your heart did not belong to the crown prince beside you.

It had always belonged to the jester who taught a lonely princess how to laugh.