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The spring morning was bright, breezy, and sunlit. The city at the foot of the hill was already fully awake, with people busy with the festival preparations. The merchants and food vendors were preparing their assortments and cookware, the tumblers stretching their limbs, the laborers busy putting up tents, and simple gapers and idlers watching the scene for the future fete unfold from a distance.
The King and the Queen, however, were only starting their day, and despite being awake for less than an hour, His Majesty looked deep inside his cup and furrowed his brow in worry.
“Say, my love, have you noticed that something is missing? Where is the jester? "
"He is nowhere to be seen, indeed," the Queen nodded, gracefully.
“Usually, he is always around. That is strange of him to have gone missing on our son’s birthday. He could not have left, could he? "
"My dear," the Queen laughed, "you come to conclusions so easily. Perhaps he is simply taking his time preparing. He performs a lot, and it is not an easy task to think of new sorts of capers. I imagine that on a day as special as this, he would put a lot of effort into his performance. Give him time. ”
This explanation seemed rational enough, and the King took his wife’s hand as they both got up and headed out into the main hall.
"Perhaps," the King mused, "he is with our son right now. I have heard the nursemaids talk about how often he stays with the Prince* and sings him lullabies. It soothes me to know that our child has a caretaker who can impart to him a love for music. Teachers and nursemaids are necessary for his mind, but this cheer and goodwill is what a future king should always have in his heart. "
"You are more than right, my dear. Now, I think it is time to prepare. I'll send someone to bring the young prince and our jester," and with that her Majesty went off to find someone for the mission.
To their surprise, however, the servant returned with an embarrassed expression on her face.
"I’ve told the nurses to bring the young prince here as soon as he finishes breakfast, but the jester wasn’t with him. Alie says he was in Prince’s room yesterday evening, putting him to bed, but nobody’d seen him since then. Apologies, Your Majesty," she made a nervous curtsy.
"How strange. But he surely will come back before we depart; he has to be with us at the festival, "the Queen murmured.
***
The darkness in the dungeons under the castle was... grey. It was dark for a regular person without a torch, but for him it was incomplete. He could see through it as if it was a sunny summer day. The fool made his way through the corridors, passing the rusty metal bars and heavy doors that were not supposed to let a single sound escape. Back in the days before his arrival, this place had a reason. Not a good one, not a cheerful one, but it had a use. Now the foreign spies were recruited instead, the traitors exiled, and no trouble was worth keeping this place alive. Nothing could harm the royal family anymore. And it had nothing to do with the jester, no, of course not! He didn’t speak to any of the spies or those who, in his very first days as the royal jester, would try to conspire against the King and Queen. His shadow simply smiled at them.
He reached a long staircase leading deeper into the underground, descended, and reached the door he was looking for. The fool stepped inside.
The Dark didn’t swallow him. Instead, it licked the air around him, like a hungry flame licks the firewood, warming him gently. Then it backed away, allowing him to take a few more steps.
"Hullo, Friend!" he enthusiastically waved a hand to the absolute darkness. It was like the softest cloth. And even he couldn’t see through it.
With a sound that would make any living creature want to turn away and run, two big, white, inhuman eyes and half a hundred regular human teeth emerged from the darkness in front of his face, just slightly above it.
"Hello, jester," it said, smiling.
“It’s a big day! Do you feel anything? “He put his hands together, fingers intertwined nervously.
It rumbled for a moment.
"No, the bond is not strong yet. Not enough. ”
"Oh. Well, we wanted to check up on you anyway. How do you feel? "
"I am alright." The pupils shifted for a second and then stared at him with their regular intensity.
“That is so good to hear! Can we do anything? "
"You are already doing your work."
"No, no, but... for you! Should we bring you something so that you won’t be bored in this dusty dungeon? Maybe a book? A game? " he tapped his foot on the floor with excitement.
“Potalia... I do not need entertainment. I do not want it. There’s nobody to entertain. You are very good at your work. Keep doing that," it said, slightly squinting.
“Of course, we will see you some time later, then. Everybody must be looking for us, so we will head back. But if you need anything, tell us! " he carefully patted the wall beside him. The darkness made it feel softer.
"I will tell you," the face moved, as if it was nodding.
"Great!"
The fool turned around and pushed the door open. Just then, a rumbling voice called out to him again.
“Potalia!”
He turned his head back. How convenient it was now that he didn’t need to turn his body with it!
White eyes squinted again, as if it was trying to figure out something it couldn’t even begin to comprehend.
"Have good fun today," it managed.
“Oh, will do! Absolutely will do, Friend, Dearest! " he beamed, turning fully this time, "Bye!"
He vigorously waved his hand before closing the door behind him.
"Goodbye, Endbringer. Enjoy."
***
"Where could he be? It is almost time for us to leave!" The King was pacing, walking back and forth between two flowerpots.
"Is Potalia not coming with us?" The Little Prince, who was currently in the arms of his nursemaid, already understood the root of his father’s worry and started to become agitated himself.
"He should be here soon. It will all turn out alright," said the Queen, putting a hand on her husband’s shoulder.
Just then, the faint sound of jingling bells reached their ears. From one of the many doors leading to the main hall emerged Potalia, hastily fixing his hat.
“Oh dear, what time is it? What day is it, even? Are we late?"
"Oh, finally!" The Queen exhaled, "Just as I told you, here he is. You made us all worry, you rascal. Where have you been?"
“Oh, we are so terribly sorry, Your Majesty—“ with that, Potalia gave her a bow so low that he tripped over himself, putting one hand on the floor and, as everyone watched, expecting him to fall, resolving the tension with a somersault.
"And Your Majesty..." he bowed to the King, this time knocking the hat off his head and clumsily catching it, throwing it from one hand to another as if it were aflame.
"I can tell, wherever you went, you have not lost your humor there," the Queen chuckled.
“Our Queen, please, leave the jokes to us! Whatever will we do if you take our job? " He clutched the bells on his hat in both fists, tugging on them nervously. “Cracking jokes is always good, but it can’t replace the crackle of a warm fire!”
"I am sure those were not your best jests. You have plenty more to show and I am no competition in your field. No need to worry so much," she smiled.
At this moment, the Little Prince finally escaped his caretaker and ran up to the jester, clinging to his feet in the most unsuitable manner.
"Oh dear, we know we were late, but is scaring us to death really a fitting punishment?" He smiled, picking the boy up. "We swear, dear boy, you get bigger every day. It won't be long until we won’t be able to hold you anymore! "
"Ha-ha, no, I 'ave seen you lift up a carriage!" the boy beamed at him.
"That was only once, and it was for a bit."
"Very well then," said the King, finally returning to reality, seeing that everything was fine. "We should head to the carriage. It is not long until the festival starts!"
“Potalia, let’s go!” The Prince excitedly pointed in the general direction of the "outside."
"Are we coming with you?" The fool fluttered his eyes at the boy and then the royal pair.
“Of course, you always do! Did you forget again? "
“Ah, it seems like all that somersaulting was not good for us after all.”
"Alright, save your jokes for the festival and head out." The Queen gave him a warning stare, but it was less threatening and more of a prompt for him to stop fooling around.
***
The plaza was full of people, lively and bustling. The carriage arrived at the tent that was set up away from the square center, allowing the performers to take over the middle while the royal family could have a rest in a slightly quieter place. The Prince, however, didn’t feel like resting. Full of energy, he explored the tent, but soon got bored of its contents and decided to take a closer look at the fair.
"Potalia!" the King called out, "The Prince wants to see the fair and the performance has not started yet, so go outside and watch over him."
One of the nursemaids called the boy over to check if there was anything she could do for him before he headed out. The Prince was not excited about her questioning him. He wanted to peak outside and go into the crowd, so when Potalia approached and picked him up, his happiness knew no bounds.
"Do not take your eyes off of him, understand?" said the nurse, with almost a threat in her voice. Not that she completely disliked the fool, but she was convinced that leaving noble children of that age with a man was a bad idea. Noble men didn’t know how to take care of their own children, and this one was a jester! Not a fitting company for a little boy! But even with that, she couldn’t dwell on her grim thoughts for too long.
“Certainly! We’ll make sure he doesn’t get lost," Potalia grinned, "Otherwise we will have to, and quickly!"
"Get out, fool." She pinched her nose with a pained expression, but couldn’t completely hide a smile.
The boy became tired of walking almost immediately. He tugged on Potalia’s tunic and, after the jester picked him up again, lit up like a freshly made candle.
"This is much better than walking," he declared.
"We can imagine. Though, if you are not moving your legs and still going somewhere, someone is probably doing all the walking for you. Remember that.”
"I read about the mages in the east. They live in the woods and can make things move on their own."
“Really?" Potalia raised his eyebrows.
"Yes, and I think we need to invite them here. When I am king, I will do that."
"You could tell your father."
"No, I want to do it myself." The boy shook his head.
"We see. You will be a good king. "
"Yes, and I will make sure people don’t always have to walk!"
"Our boy, please do not repeat after us, "don’t" is for the commonfolk. You should say your words properly. Also, walking is not as bad”
“Some people can’t walk! And I like how you talk. I think I’ll also make it a rule. Father and mother always say I must not hurry, I’m a prince. I want to speak shortly!"
"We see... Your first statement, we mean. You can make rules when you’re a king, but for now, please settle for what your father and mother tell you. We don’t want you to get in trouble for repeating after us."
After that, the boy stopped speaking for some time, clearly irritated that his favorite jester did not completely support him. His mood, however, did not stay the same for long, and soon he turned his head to Potalia again.
"I like this festival; it is very colourful!"
“So do we! Colourful indeed. And it’s in your honour, our dear boy! If it weren’t for you, there would be no festival."
The boy was a bit startled by that. He was used to being important; he was a prince, after all. But this idea that if he didn’t exist, there would be no fair-
"Look," he suddenly pointed out a group of people in colourful costumes that caught his attention, their faces painted, "It’s your people!"
“Yes, it is. Let’s greet them?"
"No..." the boy said, his face changing from excited to worried, "I don't like other jesters."
"Those are not jesters; they are street performers, clearly. And please, it’s "do not". Now, we shouldn’t leave you here alone, but saying hullo wouldn’t hurt. How about a little plan? "
The troupe members were joking with each other and gathering some sacks and clubs when Potalia approached them, holding a sleeping boy in his arms. Prince’s face was buried in the jester’s shoulder, and he was looking so peaceful, nobody would dare make a sound too loud. Potalia, however, still started with a small warning.
"Hullo, friends! His Highness has fallen asleep, but we thought that shouldn’t stop us from checking in on other performers. How are you this beautiful day? "
"Hello to you too," nodded seemingly the oldest of the group, "We are almost ready to move. Going to the middle. We’ll be performing, fifth on the list. And you? "
“We’ll show up as well. Though we probably will stay closer to His Majesty and Her Majesty, you will see us there!"
“Sure thing, on those high seats!" grinned the youngest performer, who was, apparently and surprisingly, a young girl, holding all of the juggling clubs.
"They are very convenient. One can drop their standards from those really well." Potalia smiled back at her.
"Eh, from what I heard, your jokes are good," another performer shrugged.
"Maybe. That’s always for the audience to decide. Is there anything interesting happening besides the performances? We have some more time to spend and it’s getting boring very quickly." He didn’t add that it was, in fact, the Prince who was getting bored.
One of the troupe looked at him and then comically looked around, as if asking his friends "are you hearing this man?"
“Look around; we’re at the fair! Bored? Go get some food and a drink, listen to music, spin a wheel of fortune. Find someone to mingle with-"
"Now!" Potalia pressed the boy tighter to his chest, "There are children here! And we’d rather not, anyway."
"Suit yourself," scoffed the man.The elder firmly but politely moved him out of the way and nodded to Potalia.
"Good luck out there, brother."
"May luck be with you too." Potalia clicked his nonexistent heels and walked away, humming a familiar melody.
After he walked around the artificial corner made out of two food stands, Potalia looked down at the grinning Prince.
“They didn’t suspect a thing! You are a born performer, dear boy. "
"Did you hear me laugh?"
"No! Did you? --"
"No, I hadn’t made a sound!" he exclaimed, proudly.
At this point, Potalia had given up on trying to teach the boy proper royal grammar and just pretended he didn’t hear anything wrong.
“Potalia?”
"What is it?"
“What does "mingle with" mean?”
In his thoughts, Potalia sends a few dozen curses upon that performer’s home.
"It’s a commonfolk word for something that children are too young to witness. We’ll tell you sometime later."
"No, tell me now!"
The rest of the way to the royal tent was long and painful, but finally the boy settled for the simple explanation of "it’s the same thing people do to create children, but the goal is just debauchery instead. It’s very irresponsible. Also, please do not tell the King and Queen we told you any of that, or they will hang us by our feet on that huge chandelier in the ballroom"***
The Prince giggled at the image of that, but agreed to never speak about it with anyone. Luckily, he knew how to keep secrets. After all, he met his friend when he was three and didn’t tell anyone, except the Advisor who specifically asked him about it before. But that man knew what to ask about, and surely most people don’t walk around asking children about commonfolk word meanings.
Closer to the tent, Potalia noticed an old woman, from another land, judging by her clothes, setting up her own little stall. She put a few big bowls on the table in front of it, started the fire under a big pot next to it, and then...
"What is that smell?" While turning his head in every direction, the Prince disapprovingly wrinkled his nose.
“Let’s find out?”
"Let’s not, it’s terrible!" He covered his little nose.
The old woman smiled at him from her tent.
“It’s the boiling oil in my pan, young one. I will be making kus’**** and selling them here. Would you like to try? "
"No..."
"You shouldn't judge by the smell. I'll coat them in sweet syrup and they'll be the most delicious thing in the world," she rebuked him, pointing to a huge bowl of dough.
"What is kus’ anyway, good woman?" Potalia asked, desperately trying to see what was in the other bowl. The Prince tugged at his tunic disapprovingly.
"A sweet dessert from my homeland I fry it in oil, then coat it in honey. It’s very good, shiny and golden. I use my grandmother’s recipe; it never fails me."
"Sounds interesting, does it not?" He winked at the Prince, who, at the thought of something being covered in honey, immediately changed his behavior.
"I want them now!" he declared, trying to turn, while in Potalia’s arms, to face the woman.
"Well, maybe you should buy some." The woman winked at the jester, "For yourself, for the boy, get some kus’, young man! They’re good, and you’re helping out an old woman. "
"How much do they cost?"
"Two copper for one bowl" and she gestured at a stack of hand-sized paper bowls, clearly hand-made too.
"We see... Well, let’s get you inside the tent first, then we’ll ask His and Her Majesty if you can try some. We shouldn’t buy you food without their knowledge. We’ll both be in trouble." Despite the Prince’s clear protests, Potalia carried him away from the beautiful honey-covered dessert.
"They don’t have to know!" the boy whispered to him.
“It really is better if they do. They are your parents. And we are only a fool; we don’t even have money!" Potalia carried the boy inside and put him on the ground.
At that exact moment, the sound of hasteless and refined footsteps approached, and the Queen herself looked at the two of them with her usual polite smile.
“Mama!" The Prince immediately rushed to her and tugged on her dress, "There is an old woman outside, she is selling sweets! But Potalia won’t buy me any if you don’t say "yes."
Queen's brow furrowed at the sound of "won't" and "don't," and Potalia decided that it might be best if he helped the boy out.
"That is pretty much it, Your Majesty. We were only going to ask you if we were allowed to buy him anything from the fair, and besides, our pockets are emptier than a bottle of wine after a good dinner... "
"That is true," she sighed, "But my child... You should not eat the food from this fair. Perhaps one day we could invite this woman to the castle, and then you can try what she is making. What is it, Potalia? "
"Kus’, Your Majesty"
“Ah, I see. I have had those before. But not like this, not at the fair, this is...” she looked down at her son, “I am sorry, my sunshine, you can try them at the castle. I will personally send someone, I promise. But right now, please go to your nurse. And Potalia, if you don’t mind…"
"But it is my birthday!" Little Prince stomped his little foot and looked up at his mother, as if to see if it worked. She only shook her head, chiding.
"Please. You should eat something we have in the tent. Our cooks worked so hard to give us a proper feast, and it is much better than commonfolk food, believe me. But I promise, later I will send someone to buy you what you want. "
That startled the boy a little bit, just enough for the nursemaid to come up and carefully take him by the hand and to the farthest part of the tent. The Queen motioned to walk away as well, with Potalia following her, confused.
“I appreciate that you are looking after him. I truly do. However… It upsets me to deny him this dessert, but he should understand the rules. There are some things we cannot do, even if a commoner can. It breaks my heart, but certain freedoms... The royal family cannot have "
“But it’s his birthday, and it’s only one bowl! It surely can’t be that bad," he suggested carefully.
"I understand," she sighed, and in that sigh he sensed genuine remorse," but there is nothing I can do now. And Potalia… He is starting to sound like you. Please, mind that next time.”
"Will do, Your Majesty. Will do.” He could almost feel the bitterness in his mouth and, as soon as she walked away, Potalia darted to the corner of the tent where the boy was, in the company of his nurse.
"Oh well, dear boy... It looks like we are now forbidden from buying you any food at all. "
Clearly upset, in the way that quiet and convenient children can be, the boy was sitting on a small rug and twisting a button on his shirt.
"Will mother- Make you not play with me anymore?"
"No, she only asked us to choose our words better." Potalia smiled, sadly, stroking his poor boy’s hair. Of all the things, this one could have made this impulsive child so happy, and he would definitely get into trouble for providing it. Well, then.
"That-t... That is good."
“Oh, boy... Remember, if you cannot have something in the moment, it is not the End. Now now. Let us think of something. We won’t be gone for long, promise!" The Prince didn’t even tug on his sleeve as he got up.
Potalia found her behind the tent, the same nursemaid that told him to watch the boy closely. He took off his hat and approached her, slightly bowing, as if to make himself smaller.
“Say, say, good woman, will you spare a coin for a little fool?”
"Oh, for-" she turned to him, her eyes wide and her hands trembling slightly, "You! What, are you getting ready for the beggar’s role? Are their Majesties kicking you out? "
"Any day now," he giggled.
"Well, what do you want?"
“We told you, a coin! Two copper, to be precise," he bowed.
"What for?" she narrowed her eyes.
"Oi, leave him alone, you old crone!" A younger voice came from behind, making them both jump up, even though Potalia could hear the steps. He just wanted to unwind a bit, and what better way than to fool around? A younger nurse patted him on the shoulder, "I know, "what for". You’re a good guy, fool. Making the King and Queen happy makes life better for us all. And their boy should be happy too, if you ask me. Sure, Her Majesty has her rules, but it’s the kid’s birthday, so let him have fun! Here’s your two coppers. "
And she put two pieces in his hat.
"Thank you, kind lady!" Potalia bowed and gave a gleeful look to an older nursemaid. She rolled her eyes. "The boy should have fun, and it isn’t very fair to treat local food as if it were... lesser. Isn’t it? "
"Sure, that’s what I said," and with an approving nod, the nurse returned to the tent.
Potalia stared at the two copper pieces in his hand and hurried to the old vendor’s tent. She was sitting on a wooden stool, smoking a carved pipe and chatting with another vendor who smelled like apples.
"Hey, I see you’ve returned!" She beamed at him, "Are you here to buy?"
“Surely not," Potalia opened his eyes wide, "We’re here to ask you about that pipe, obviously."
“Alright, boy, I know you can do better than that. I saw you go into that tent. Are you a royal jester or not? "
“We’re trying not to use up our jokes before the main event, good woman. Apologies. Now, what can these two get us?"
It was ten minutes before the start of the performances when the little Prince felt something touch his shoulder. He shivered and looked up to see Potalia’s face, almost glowing with pride, as he handed him a paper bowl full of something hot, steaming, and honey-scented.
“Here we go, our boy! Do not tell anyone. Let’s make this our secret."
"Potalia!" Holding the bowl in one hand, he jumped up and awkwardly hugged the jester with one arm, "You got them!"
"We did! Now, eat up."
"No, sit down, we will share them!" the boy ordered.
“Oh no, no, we don’t need to eat, remember? We’re not hungry."
"But try them!"
“It is our birthday present to you. Now, have it all for yourself, please. We need to get ready to entertain the crowd."
"But Potalia!.."
The fool sighed. This life was fun and easy, but some parts of it were still proving to be challenging. On the other hand, if his biggest problem now was how to convince this child to eat his dessert instead of how to go out there and perform for the crowd, it surely was alright.
“Potalia? If mom sends someone to buy me more, does it mean I get to have two servings?" The Prince giggled in excitement.
"Oh... Oh yes, it does!" The fool smiled, trying not to ruin the moment. Maybe that would be too much honey, though? “Isn’t it wonderful? See, you only need to have a little patience and a little faith in your dear fool, and it will all be so very fine."
"That’s great," the boy decided, with his mouth full.
"Please, do not speak while-"
“Potalia! Jester! It’s almost your time!" Somebody yelled, poking his head into the tent, "Get ready!"
"We are!" he exclaimed, turning his head to the crier, "and we'll see you, dear boy! Now it’s time to have some good fun! "