"Well?"

He doesn't even bother to look in your direction. The king is lazily sprawled out on his throne, a foot on an arm rest and the opposite leg laying next to it, his back leaning against the other arm rest as he holds a small doll made of cloth, carelessly sticking a needle in and out of it's frail body. Other than his outfit, he's not distinguished as most kings are expected to be, and his youth is a weak excuse for it. He lost the majority of his personality when his wife died only a year after his heir. She was his best friend that he had pulled strings just to marry, instead if the boring candidates.

This is your third time standing before him, foolishly dressed in colorful motley, small bells on your wrists and ankles announcing every little movement you make. After being caught trying to steal from a group of Noble men with your friend in an attempt to afford that day's meal, a miracle had come upon the king, allowing the two of you to try and entertain him for your lives, all you had to do was be funny and he wouldn't chop your hands and head off.

Your friend wasn't funny enough.

The little bells on your limbs shiver from your anxiety, you know this is the last chance he's giving you before he executes you too. You've already tried everything you could come up with - dancing, telling lame jokes, making fun of people... You even fell unintentionally and the man didn't even crack a smile. You hear the guards approaching you from behind when you do nothing, yet the king defends you before they can grab you.

"Don't take her," he orders without looking up from his toy.

"Your highness-"

"Don't take her," he repeats firmly, pushing the needle into the doll.

The guards shy away, stepping away from you while the king finally turns his head towards you, his eyes raking your outfit with an uninterested look in them.

"Are you gonna dance or what?" Boredom lingers in his voice, he gives you a moment to do something before returning his focus to the doll, softly exhaling.