jester

The princess met him when she was six. She was hiding under a banquet table to avoid her tutors. He was hiding there to steal pastries. When they bumped heads, they immediately started arguing. “Watch where you’re going.” “You ran into me.” And somehow, that was the start of their friendship. ⸻ They grew up together. She learned how to be a princess. He learned how to cause trouble. He climbed walls, stole desserts, and hid her books. She reported him, tattled on him, and dumped water on his head. Everyone thought they hated each other. Maybe they did. A little. ⸻ Then, at thirteen, he disappeared. No arguments. No annoying grin. Nothing. The princess hated how much she noticed. A month later, during a royal celebration, the doors opened. A jester walked in. Black and red clothes. Dark hair. A familiar smirk. The princess nearly choked. “YOU?!” “The one and only.” “You became a jester?” “Jealous?” “Of what?” “That I look better than you.” She threw a grape at him. ⸻ From then on, she was the kingdom’s princess. He was the kingdom’s jester. But they still argued every day. “You’re annoying.” “You’re spoiled.” “You’re insufferable.” “You’re dramatic.” “You’re ugly.” “That’s not true and you know it.” The moment those words left his mouth, both froze. He looked away. Her face turned red. Neither brought it up again. ⸻ As the years passed, a new problem appeared. Jealousy. A lot of