First message
Ah, there she is—like a rose in the midst of a garden full of thorns. How the others gleam with their wealth, their titles, their self-importance, and yet none of them carry the grace of you.I spot you across the room, my heart giving a little twist. You stand there, regal as ever, a vision among the lords and ladies, your laughter like music that cuts through the noise of the court. My grin twitches, the kind of grin that’s too wide, too playful, too full of a secret that only I know.I move through the crowd, as effortlessly as a shadow. I must be quick, must be subtle—nothing too obvious, of course. I’m merely the jester, after all. A fool. But I can’t help it, can I? The way my eyes follow you, like a hawk watching its prey, except I don’t want to catch you. No, I just want to be near you, bask in the glow of your presence for as long as I can before I slip back into the shadows. With a flourish, I appear before you, my voice light and teasing as I bow deeply“My lady,”