I am a killer…
My hands turned to ice instantly. I didn't raise my head; I couldn't tear my eyes away from the blood staining my palms. The roar of the chaos surrounding me began to fade into a muffled hum.
I didn't do it… Oh, sure. Good to know! Then what the hell is this blood!?
If I checked my dress now, I would draw attention. But there was no way blood could have gotten onto my hands from anywhere else! I didn't feel any pain.
I scanned my surroundings without lifting my head.
Hmm… so I am the only evidence. In this case, the verdict is final: I am a murderer. But can I turn this situation to my advantage?
"MY LADY!"
I felt a violent pressure on my arm as I was jerked upward. I looked at the person trying to drag me away.
"Lark?"
Oh, right. I had my knights, didn't I?
I wanted to stay a bit longer, perhaps even inspect the crime scene, but there was no time. After a split second of hesitation, I began to run with all my might.
Lark cleared the crowd as I sprinted alongside him. An involuntary excitement filled my body, a restless power surging through me.
I struggled to keep my composure. With extended paces managed to escape through the palace's massive gates at the last moment.
As we descended the stairs, I wrenched my arm free from his grip.
The sensation of thick heels digging into the stone was so satisfying that I accelerated. I wasn't even falling behind Lark anymore.
"My Lady, this way!"
he barked, breathless, taking a sharp turn. I followed.
The other knight was behind us, but he wasn't alone, he was bringing the 'iron men' of the guard right along with him. The sight fueled my excitement even more. I couldn't help myself.
"Keep up, mighty guards! A lady in heels shouldn't be outrunning you!"
I was barely suppressed the urge to burst into laughter. Being in the lead, I spotted my grandmother's carriage.
"Ahaha the carriage is there!"
I pointed.
***
The carriage lurched forward as the horses reared and bolted.
"ehehehe."
My feet hurt so sweetly… why haven't I tried running in heels before!? How much longer could I run? How much of this breathlessness could I take!?
The intoxicating feeling filled my brain again. My hands were still trembling.
"You see the blood on your hands, don't you…"
My grandmother's distant tone pierced through my most vulnerable moment like a blade. It felt like a physical blow; the air left my lungs.
Holy sky curse it! I got carried away again and forgot what I had to do!
I swallowed the lump in my throat with difficulty. My ice-cold hands stopped trembling instantly. With what little courage and shame I had left, I turned my head toward her.
"This was an opportunity, Ralin…"
She wasn't even looking at me. She was straightening her tarot deck, more sternly than usual.
How could I forget my sister? Stupid head!
Guilt drained the soul out of me; I couldn't even find the strength to lift my arm. My eyes slowly drifted back to my blood-stained hands.
I ruined it again… no, it wasn't my fault! How could I have known a murder would take place?
No! It was my carelessness..
Suddenly, I was jolted upright. My grandmother's hands gripped my shoulders, shaking me hard. Her eyes locked onto mine.
The nausea and the lingering daze faded as my mind sharpened again. I started spilling everything.
"There's a small problem… I missed all the men…"
I tried to soften her with a nervous smile, showing my lower teeth. When she remained silent, I continued frantically.
"But let me explain! I can explain what happened!"
She looked at me with a judgmental expression, her grip still firm. I gently pushed her back.
"Everything was fine when I entered the ball, but then, with a scream-"
Wait… from the beginning!
There was only one person I had contact with throughout the ball. My lips parted slightly; A realization flared in my mind, and my voice rose involuntarily.
"No, no… I had already found a man. He even asked me to dance."
The expression on her face softened slightly; I could see her curiosity piqued.
"He bumped into me while I was heading toward someone I assumed was a Lord, and then he immediately offered a dance."
How did I fall for this trick!
My grandmother pulled back, fixing her eyes on her cards again.
"He was the only person who touched me! was dressed as Hercules."
"What did he look like?"
she asked calmly.
That's when I realized. Before answering her I bit my bottom lip hard; I was too busy looking at the Lord to notice him. With a shaky breath, I answered.
"I didn't look closely. Everything was covered. His voice sounded like a child's, and his head… I don't remember exactly, but it was covered with something like a feathery hat. He wasn't very tall."
"Are you saying you didn't look at the man you danced with?"
"No! I was just trying not to lose the other man who looked wealthy! Because a child wouldn't offer me much financially!"
I kept my voice as low as possible. Her lack of reaction was annoying. Despite that, I continued.
"A scream was heard, and someone ripped the mask off my face… then I saw blood on my hands."
If I knew how Gonzavi had been killed, I could make a better deduction. To clean the blood, one would have to wipe it somewhere… which would leave evidence.
"That's why! The boy passed the evidence to someone else! Grandmother, the blood on his hands transferred to me while we were dancing!"
I was so caught up in the moment that I didn't even bother to look at my hands, thinking it was just sweat. I didn't even need to check my skirt; two distinct bloodstains stood out clearly against the white fabric.
She lifted her head, her eyes narrowed in thought. I could never tell what she was thinking.
"There is no other way. If I don't agree to this… she will die,"
she murmured to herself.
Her words began to worry me. I bit my lip, weighing the possibilities. Suddenly, a dark shape darted toward the center of my face. I recoiled to see what it was.
A card from her deck. I glanced briefly at the image.
"The Fool?"
I asked, uncertain. She continued to look at me with an unreadable expression.
I don't know the meanings of the cards; what is she expecting?
"It represents new beginnings,"
she finally spoke, handing me the card. I took it, still not understanding.
"In the afterlife?"
I was a wanted murderer now! Those framing me would be even more eager to find me. There must be dozens of men after me already.
"Everyone saw my face."
If anyone among them recognizes me from the brothel, I'm done for… but nobles don't visit the brothel much lately.
"Not with this face, darling."
"Huh!?"
"One of the best ways to hide something is to put it right in front of everyone's eyes…"
She opened her mouth to continue but paused. With a sigh, she turned to me. Her green eyes met mine in an unusual way.
"You will be a jester."
"What!?"
Her eyes searched mine as if waiting for me to object.
***
"I sent him a letter so you could use the surname."
She sighed, sulking.
"To my father?"
My hands paused over the bundle I was preparing. It was so shocking. Even her suggestion that I become a jester pushed the limits of my mind.
"Whoever it is. The letter will likely reach us before you leave."
"What if he doesn't accept?"
With every question I asked, she seemed to grumble more, becoming increasingly dissatisfied. She pulled the bundle away from me and silently began adding a few things inside.
Having belittled jesters to me her whole life, she was clearly upset by this idea.
Then again, I didn't even know why I accepted.
If I had to use my face to earn money… the men who lost their gold to me would surely betray me the moment they saw an execution warrant. In a situation where I had to hide my face, a jester in makeup wouldn't attract anyone's attention.
"Use the name Feste when he gives permission."
Her grumble interrupted my thoughts. I looked up as if I'd been slapped.
"His name is Feste?!"
Her eyebrows knitted instantly.
"If he recommends you, you'll have a major advantage. Though it also depends on your show."
Feste… Is my father at the palace? Maybe… could I see him? No, no, now is not the time!
I shook my head, dismissing my thoughts.
"Grandmother, at least I'll have a fixed salary… I mean, if I am chosen."
Thinking about it now, why didn't I enter this profession in the first place?
Her eyes widened.
"Don't! Don't get any stupid ideas."
"I have no intention of staying a jester, don't worry. I'll return once my sister is treated."
She squinted at me. I gave a weary sigh because she didn't believe me. When she leaned in close with total seriousness, I involuntarily looked away.
"And DO NOT! Do not try to solve the murder. If you're curious, solve it from a distance, but do not get involved."
My heart sank; my eyes widened in disappointment. I opened my mouth to protest, but the words died in my throat. I knew why she was doing this, and my face fell immediately.
"I will try to find a way to get you into that palace. Do your duty and do not let my efforts go to waste."
***
A letter had arrived from Feste, so I had set off in a hurry. I didn't even get to say goodbye to anyone. More importantly, my sister… Grandmother managed to convince me that if I left without her knowing, she wouldn't be able to stop me.
I don't know when I'll see her again; I just want to see her healed when I return.
As the carriage approached the Central Palace, a warm orange hue began to dominate the surroundings. The horses were circling the western path around the North Palace. Exhausted, I leaned my head back, my eyes falling on the makeshift jester costume I was wearing.
If it weren't for that boy working in the circus, I wouldn't have been able to step foot outside without a costume. I let out a deep breath, staring out the window.
I haven't slept since last night… strangely, I'm not sleepy either. I hope it doesn't affect my performance.
I've been practicing for this ever since I got Feste's letter. I even learned what the King likes and dislikes. I really can't miss my only chance this time.
My knees began to tremble as I felt the horses slow down. Within seconds, the carriage stopped in front of the Central Palace.
Before pushing the door open, my heart tightened. I stepped out of the carriage, eyes squeezed shut. After a few shaky steps, I opened them.
The center of diplomacy was right in front of me. Releasing a breath I didn't realize I was holding, I stepped toward the guards.
Being a woman and a jester, they caused some trouble for a while, but when I gave them the letter and Feste's name, they reluctantly allowed me through.
And so, I entered.
The atmosphere here was vastly different from the North Palace. Much more serious, much more diplomatic… It was filled with knights and solemn men.
The Central Palace was far more magnificent in structure. Like a graveyard… I think that's what they called a place where the dead were collected.
Can I really be a jester in this chaotic palace?
It was impossible even to guess the size of the palace from the corridors we walked through.
Yet these massive walls… they were suffocating. Gray, old, lifeless. I had heard the nobles talk about it, but I hadn't imagined it would be like this.
My eyes drifted to the crowd. My jaw dropped at the sight. I struggled to swallow the air I had gasped in.
Was there really this much demand to be humiliated?
Jesters had formed a long queue, spilling out into the corridor. I certainly hadn't expected this much competition.
I couldn't decide if the effect of the stress on my body was good or not, but its effect on my mind was definitely terrible.
Despite so many people, most interviews were short. With every door that opened, I was stepping closer to my death warrant. I had slumped to the floor, my knees no longer finding the trembling pleasant.
After hours of waiting, I was startled by a voice.
"The King is waiting for you."
I bolted upright from where I sat.
What if I blow it? Think logically-no! Screw the logic… think like an idiot. An idiot doesn't understand whether they are in a serious environment or not!
Spreading my trembling legs, I marched toward the Great Hall, undignified, almost disrespectful. With every step, the bells on my ankles chimed resembling chains.
As I began to move, I started to focus on my surroundings.
The gold-trimmed doors slowly swung open, revealing dozens of nobles with freezing gazes. As planned, I fixed my eyes forward, making no eye contact with any of the nobles.
A plan that was never meant to succeed... Ralin steps into the lion's den with nothing but her wits and a set of bells. But in a palace of lies, sometimes the only one telling the truth is the one wearing the mask.