The Fool

Vane regarded Princess Rosemary from afar, arms crossed over his chest. She sat on the throne, a leg thrown over the other, watching Ruse, the Court Joker, intently. She tilted her head as he recited a riddle, a smile tilting the corners of her mouth upward.

Vane took a deep breath, refraining from pinching his nose. The King was dead and at midnight, in less than seventy minutes, that girl was going to be crowned. He needed to make sure everything would go smoothly, especially because the Princess didn’t seem to care.

He wished the King had held on just one or two years longer. At least until Princess Rosemary could outgrow her childish whims and think about things other than reading those silly books, tending to her rosebushes, or trying to learn tricks from Ruse.

“Master Octavian.”

Vane spun toward the voice. He recognized Albert, one of the Court Guards.

“There’s a problem.”

One of Vane’s eyebrows rose, prompting him to continue.

“The – Lady Genevieve, she, she seems to be wanting the throne, too.” Albert adjusted his collar, which, judging by his panting, had probably wrinkled in his haste.

Vane exhaled a deep breath. If there was anyone less suitable to lead a kingdom, it was Lady Genevieve. She had already brought her family to the brink of bankruptcy one too many times. Not to mention that she was prone to believe all kinds of frauds and swindles.

“Let her.” Vane shrugged. “Nothing can be more powerful than a birthright.”

“She is in possession of some incriminating evidence.” Albert’s voice dropped to a hush. “Apparently, Princess Rosemary is part of an affair.”

Vane cast a look in the direction of the Princess. She was laughing as the Court Joker balanced on his hands. Barely a second later, he tipped over, landing on his back, wincing.

“That must be a false accusation. She has that fool with her wherever she goes. Who would want to have him there?” Vane’s chest tightened with a sensation he couldn’t put his finger on. It was a familiar one, though, one that only appeared when he saw them together.

“Lady Genevieve’s maid seemed confident. There must be something up her sleeve.”

Vane’s eyebrows drew together. “What were you doing with Lady Genevieve’s maid?”

Albert’s shoulders tensed. He began to stammer something, but Vane was not in the mood to watch him squirm. “Don’t worry about it. I will take care of it.”

Vane crossed the throne room, his boots thudding on the black and white marble.

Ruse was showing a card trick to the Princess, and Vane had to wait until it was over before the Princess deemed him worthy of her attention.

“Master Octavian, delighted you joined us. Ruse just showed me how he can make cards disappear. It is quite entertaining, I must say.”

The three cards Ruse was holding vanished with a flick of his hand, one after the other.

“Good evening, Princess.” Vane took the Princess’s gloved hand to press a kiss on the back. “That seems … amusing. I will surely ask for a demonstration myself.” Not that he would need to use tricks. Skill was a much more useful tool for a Captain. “But this time I came here on an urgent matter concerning the coronation banquet.”

“Ah, yes.” The Princess pulled her hand away, folding it with the other in her lap. “Are the preparations coming along?”

“The –” Vane swallowed his initial answer. The ballroom had been ready in the afternoon. Guards had been posted there hours ago. “Yes, they are coming along.”

The Princess nodded, her lips drawn tight in concentration.

“There is another matter I would like to discuss, though.”

Clink, clink, clink.

Behind them, Ruse had dropped a few coins, the silver crowns clattering off the red carpet and onto the marble. “Apologies,” he said as he crouched to gather them.

“You are dismissed now, Ruse.” Vane looked down on him.

The Court Joker glanced up from his position on the ground. His too-big three-pointed hat slipped down, covering one of his kohl-lined eyes. The little heart drawn in the corner of his eyes crinkled as he squinted, blinded by the massive, twinkling chandeliers.

His look was blazing, much more powerful than Vane had ever seen. It made his heart trip. But perhaps he just hadn’t looked at him this closely before and the intensity surprised him.

The bells on his hat jingled. “Of course,” Ruse replied and stood, looming over him.

Because, naturally, he had to be taller. It was a bothersome thing to be reminded of. Vane had to look away.

“Stay.” The Princess ordered while eyeing Vane. “What concerns me, he can know too.”

He surely cannot but who was Vane to disagree.

“Thank you, my Queen.” The Joker kneeled, tipping his head low.

That unpleasant tightness lodged itself between Vane’s lungs.

Princess Rosemary nodded, then addressed Vane, “What is the matter?”

His eyes flicked to the Joker, then snapped away upon spotting the lopsided grin on that fool’s face.

Vane cleared his throat. “It’s Lady Genevieve.”

The Princess’s brows furrowed. “My cousin?”

He nodded. “I have heard she would like the throne for herself. She claims to have evidence about an inappropriate affair of yours.” Vane’s gaze landed on the Joker, searching his expression for any tells that Genevieve might be right, but his face remained blank. He must have mastered the poker face.

“Untrue accusations.” The Princess leaned back on the throne, stretching out her legs, ankles crossed.

The bell outside tolled, marking the time one hour before midnight.

“I have no doubt, but it still remains something we must address. Surely, the celebration tonight would be the perfect opportunity for her to bring whatever evidence she has to the public.”

“Perhaps.” The Princess waved down a servant. “Excuse me, could you bring me my green book from my chambers? It has a forest painted on the front.”

“I would like to offer two of my senior spies to be at your side at all times. I, myself, would take care of any threat to the festivity itself.”

The Princess picked at her fingernail. “Whatever for, Master Octavian?”

His mouth opened, then closed. Then opened again. “For your protection, of course.”

The Princess tilted her head, as if puzzled by the mere idea. “I will have Roman near at all times.”

The Joker? Vane furrowed his brow at the Princess's informality.

Besides, he didn’t even know Ruse would be in attendance.

“I don’t think it’s advisable to have a Joker at the coronation connected with the demise of your father.”

“My father held no love for me whatsoever, but he did like Roman. He wouldn’t care if he was in attendance or not.”

The Joker sighed exaggeratedly, a hand on his heart. “He had loved my juggling.”

Vane opened his mouth to argue, but the Princess was faster.

“There is no need to fret, Master Octavian. I’m highly positive the threat is not as grave. You’re dismissed now.” With that, she turned, addressing the fool. “I would like to practice the card disappearing trick.”

“I live to serve you, my Queen.”

That gnawing feeling coiled in Vane’s stomach again. Surely, only because he was dismissed so fast, when the Joker was allowed to stay. “I will come and chaperone you to the coronation in twenty minutes.”

“No need.” The Princess waved her hand without taking her eyes off the cards.

“As you wish.” Vane bowed, then spun on his heel, cheeks flaming. Such humiliation in front of the Joker.

Before leaving to check on the ballroom, Vane glanced over his shoulder, sensing eyes boring into his back. Heart lodged in his throat, he realized it was Ruse, eyes glinting as he regarded him while the Princess fumbled with the cards.

Vane hurried out the door.

Once Vane was certain the ballroom was appropriately secured, he stepped out to wait for the Princess to arrive. It was just two minutes shy of midnight when he heard voices down the hall.

“Don’t worry, Rosie, I have practiced the trick countless times.”

Rosie?

Vane would recognize that voice anywhere. It was the Court Joker, but it couldn’t be the Princess he was addressing in that manner, could it?

“I’m not worried.”

It was the Princess.

They turned the corner and Vane wiped the puzzlement off his face. This was something to figure out later, when time wasn’t pressing down on them.

Vane eyed the Princess's hand tucked into the crook of the Joker’s elbow. Ruse had changed into a more formal black-and-white Joker uniform. Vane also realized that he had abandoned the hat, their surroundings missing the jingling that had belonged to his steps.

Princess Rosemary had changed into a golden gown as well.

Vane bowed his head at her and she curtsied. The clock struck midnight with no time to exchange pleasantries or start an interrogation about why they were so late. Maybe that was for the best. Somehow, Vane couldn’t decide if he would like to know the reason for their tardiness.

“After you, Princess.” He opened the big door leading to the ballroom. She pulled her hand away from the Joker.

With a smile, the Princess entered. The crowd welcomed her with awe and cheers.

The Joker stepped in after her, grinning at Vane. His heart skipped a beat.

Now that Ruse’s head was free of the hat, a strand of dark hair fell in front of his eyes in a way that would have seemed unkempt if his hair wasn’t looking effortlessly soft and smooth instead. Vane still didn’t approve, though.

During midnight dinner, he kept his eyes on Princess Rosemary and Lady Genevieve, with a few of his spies, despite the Princess’s wish, watching too. Which, in hindsight, he praised himself for, because the Joker had caught his attention with his clumsy antics one too many times.

He stumbled, dropped the juggling balls, which were supposed to be in remembrance of the King, and even knocked over a vase. Vane spotted a few of the guests whispering behind his back, probably saying the disapproving thoughts he was thinking.

Initially, he had thought it suspicious. Ruse had been the Joker for a few years – not that he was famous for being extraordinarily good or entertaining, but he surely was supposed to be better than that. Then Vane remembered that even in the throne room earlier, he couldn’t seem to hold onto simple coins.

That bitterness returned, tasting sour on his tongue.

He sighed, venturing into the crowd to search for Genevieve, whom he had lost sight of.

Vane found her chatting, heads leaned close together with her two sisters, their backs toward the pearl-white wall. Genevieve was holding a piece of paper, showing it off to her siblings. Vane approached them.

“Good evening, ladies.”

They curtsied. “Good evening, Master Octavian.” Genevieve blushed. Biting her lip, her green eyes took him in. The paper, which he now could tell was a poorly developed photograph, was still clutched between her fingers.

Vane shifted to take a look, moving closer.

“I have been trying to find you all night.” Genevieve giggled, starting to fan herself with the photograph. If that was the evidence, she truly wasn’t the brightest light on the horizon.

Vane tried to catch a glimpse, but couldn’t, and he almost groaned. Leaning in further and bracing his arm against the wall behind Genevieve, he stood close enough for her perfume to be suffocating. Her sisters giggled. “My eyes have been on you all night.” Technically, not a lie.

“Really?” Genevieve froze, her hand covering her mouth and she finally stopped fanning herself.

Vane caught sight of the photograph. It was indeed depicting Princess Rosemary, but the other person, or rather their back, was someone he didn’t recognize. Only then did he realize he half expected to see the Joker with her, but that was definitely not him. Something in his chest shifted, and he exhaled for whatever reason.

Before he could study it further, someone jumped in front of them. Genevieve recoiled, stuffing the evidence away. “My goodness!”

“Good day – I mean evening, ladies.”

Vane closed his eyes. Of course it’s him. Just when he was so close to figuring out what this was about.

“Would you like some entertainment?” The clinking of coins sounded, vexing him further.

Vane looked up, finding himself shockingly closer to Genevieve than he thought, their noses almost brushing. This surely didn’t look appropriate. “Excuse me.” He pulled back. “I have to – I have some business to attend to.”

Genevieve deflated but bid him goodbye.

Vane passed the Joker, casting him a glare while he only grinned, eyes brimming with quiet amusement.

After a few minutes of crossing between chatting nobles and hurried servants, Vane spotted Princess Rosemary. Though before he could reach her, trumpets sang into the night, summoning the Princess onto the raised podium.

All candles, even those on the chandeliers, were extinguished, save for the one sitting on a wooden stand, illuminating the crown, the Princess and the Archbishop on the podium.

Princess Rosemary stood next to the crown as the Archbishop held his speech. Meanwhile, the Joker had abandoned the sisters, performing that juggling of his way better than he had before. Vane whipped his head around in the dark, looking for Genevieve.

“Do you, Princess Rosemary Ambrose, vow to lead this kingdom in good faith?” The Archbishop’s voice echoed in the room, the light of the sole candle flickering over his wrinkled face. Everybody’s eyes were fixed on the ceremony.

A wooden, warm scent hit Vane’s nose. He spun on his heel.

“In remembrance of our beloved King,” Ruse muttered as he weaved between the guests, still juggling and moving forward.

Vane stared after him, mouth slightly agape. What is he doing?

Someone rammed into him from behind. It took him a few moments to regain his footing and find the person, but as he spotted Genevieve shuffling forward, heels clinking, his heart skipped a beat.

He raced after her, whispering apologies to the guests he bumped into.

“With this, I will take upon the responsibility and honor to crown Princess Rosemary Ambrose,” the Archbishop declared, crossing over to the crown.

Reaching out his hand, Vane tried to grab Genevieve before she could arrive at the podium, but his fingers only brushed the back of her silk sleeve before she mounted the stairs. “Stop!” her shrill voice rang out.

The crowd gasped as one, the crown hovered over Princess Rosemary’s hair just a few inches away from her becoming queen and Vane’s blood froze. He had failed. Miserably.

And now he had to watch the disaster unfold from the first row.

Genevieve turned to the shocked audience with her chin held high. “Before anyone is crowned, I could not in good conscience sit back and watch our kingdom fall to scandal. Love makes us blind, but actions have consequences. Dear Archbishop, I beg you to take a look at this.” Her hand disappeared into her shoulder bag.

The Archbishop started towards her, face scrunched in confusion, deepening the wrinkles.

Before Vane’s feet could propel him forward to do… anything, the Joker appeared next to him. He tripped, tumbling to the ground with a loud thud. A wooden ball he was juggling slipped out of his grip and sailed through the air. With a sharp crack, it struck the wooden stand holding the only candle. The stand toppled. The candle hissed out against the marble floor.

Absolute, pitch-black darkness swallowed the ballroom.

Screams of panic erupted. Vane pulled out his dagger, marching toward the podium. Words like “ambush” and “help” were yelled while several people knocked into him in their haste to exit the potentially dangerous ballroom.

A soft wooden scent hit his nose, then was gone the next second.

A match flared to life. Another one. And another one. The spies Vane posted throughout the room lit the candles that were burning just a few minutes ago. A few of them shouted reassuring words to the trembling guests as order started to return.

Vane climbed onto the podium, trusting his spies to calm the nerves of the nobles.

Genevieve stood blinking in the sudden light, her arm still extended. Though the photograph was gone. In its stead, clamped tightly between her fingers, was a single, thorny red rose.

The few people watching went from terrified to utterly bewildered. Genevieve’s face drained of color as she stared at the flower. “I... I had... this isn't –”

“A beautiful sentiment, Lady Genevieve,” Princess Rosemary interrupted smoothly. She had a knowing smile plastered on her face. “Offering a rose to the new Queen before the crown even touches her head. Your loyalty is noted. Step down now.”

Eyes narrowing at the Princess, Vane grabbed Genevieve’s arm gently and escorted her off the podium. Genevieve blushed and hid her face from the whispering nobles as one of the spies took her over from Vane.

Vane refocused his attention on the podium just in time to see the Archbishop raising the crown once more. He lowered it onto the Princess's head. The room erupted into cheers.

Standing amidst the applause, heart hammering against his chest, Vane searched for Ruse. He found him near the podium, rubbing his knee, his face scrunched in pain. A sudden flicker of worry raced through him, but when the Joker made eye contact with him, he flashed an unbothered smirk, extinguishing any concern.

With an agonizingly slow motion, the Joker slipped his hand into his black-and-white checkered sleeve, pulling out the corner of the photograph just far enough for Vane to see before sliding it back into hiding.

Vane’s eyes widened, his mouth parting slightly.

Ruse winked, mouth pulling into an amused grin, and Vane wondered if maybe he was the fool all along.