The New Court Jester

You are in control of the room. Their eyes riveted to you as you juggle 4 wooden fish while riding a unicycle and telling a bawdy tale about a fisherman who decided to wade into the deep water, and received a nice surprise. As you recite the punchline, you dismount the unicycle and catch all four fish.

"And the trout said: 'that was the strangest worm I ever tried to eat!' "

The room ROARS! A far cry from the lukewarm reception you received at first. This was a testimony to your natural abilities, and your charisma, as much as something you had to prove to your late teacher. Yes, your predecessor and mentor was quite well loved, even into his old age. He was always performing magic tricks and acrobatics to the amusement of the royal family and their guests. It was because he was so well-loved that you were allowed to take his place. It was quite unorthodox for a girl to perform in such a fashion for the court.

Early this evening, you put on your banana yellow stockings, a baldric with sleeves of colorful bands, and a vest which tied in the front. You donned your short green boots. You had looked utterly ridiculous, and when you went to entertain during the feast, the stares you had received made you want to run away crying. Soon you had gained the attention of the crowd, however, then kept it with fantastic feats, entertaining jibes, and hilarious anecdotes. Everyone had been in the palm of your hand. Everyone, that is, except for the King himself. The untimely demise of his Queen just a year before had dampened his moods. Also, he had been vexed by the recent developments to the north. There had been aggressive movements from an opposing army. He was too deep in thought to be truly entertained. The Prince also seemed less than happy, you had grown up in the court with him, and the two of you had been good friends. He is far above you in station, but that had meant little to you as children. In recent years, a rift had been growing. Tonight, as he witnessed your humorous ministrations, he seemed uncomfortable in his seat, not raucous like the other revelers at the feast his father had convened.

After the night's festivities were through, you took your bows and deftly escaped clumsy attempts to keep you there in the hall. More than a few lascivious lords or servers grabbed at your tight-clad bottom, or swung a brutish arm over your shoulder, only to encircle a wisp while you quickly made your exit. The entertainment had not merely been humorous, it had sparked wine fueled fantasies about your agile frame and painted face.

On the way to your quarters, you overhear a group of servers gossiping. They at first are spouting accolades to your routine, which you settle to listen to, anxious to get your ego stroked. After a few moments of that fun, however, their conversation turns to the King.

"You know 'es up in 'is throne room, thinkin' 'bout that army..."

"Es lonely these days, 'ee is. Since, well, you know, 'is wife..."

"I ain't never seen 'im like this before, it's sad..."

Silently, you get back on your way to your quarters. The King comes to your thoughts. He's always been benevolent and kind, you've always been fond of him, even had a crush for a while. You reach your room and decide to go to the throne room instead, he needs a shoulder, or maybe a joke, you'll be there. As you turn, a page meets you in the hallway.

"Ma'am, the Prince has requested your presence in his chamber." He blurts out, sounding a bit out of breath.

"OK, then, I'll be there soon, thanks." You hear yourself reply.

The page turns and leaves you alone in the long stone hallway.