The Melancholy Of A Clown - Chapter 1

It was as if I could hear Cicero, who committed suicide, turning in his grave all the way from here. But if the Princess likes it.

 

“Jester.”

 

“Yes, Princess.”

 

“Please sing it again.”

 

As you command.

 

At the end of the second round, the Princess turned her head towards the window, where the gentle moonlight streamed in through.

 

“It does feel different. This song suits that woman better.”

 

I know who you’re thinking of, Princess. Time goes on helplessly whenever I think about her. Six years ago, the day where I had first sung the rewritten version of Cicero’s poem.

 

It was the day when yet another woman was executed. The Mad Queen, Katherine Blyde.

 

“I was genuinely happy when she died.”

 

“How do you feel now?”

 

“Of course, I’m happy.”

 

“Hmm, I don’t think so.”

 

My heart would always pound with tension whenever I spoke boldly before the Royal Princess. The Princess asked interestedly.

 

“Why do you think so?”

 

“Whenever the Princess is happy, your laughter would go from Re to Si.”

[T/N: Re, or D (musical note), the second note of the musical scale in fixed do solfège. For the seventh degree, the name Si (from Sancte Iohannes, St. John, to whom the hymn is dedicated), though in some regions the seventh is named Ti. ]

 

I gently brushed against the lyre’s strings. However, it was all too obvious that musical instruments wouldn’t be able to imitate the Princess’s lively laughter.

 

“Just like this. But it finished in the middle. Right on Fa.”

 

“You’d even notice all of that?”

 

“Of course.”

 

“You must have heard my laughter more than me. You could even tell the difference.”

 

“Shall I sing Cicero’s song one more time?”

 

“No. Play whatever you want.”

 

You’re finally laughing, Princess. As such, my mission has been accomplished. This clown’s reason for living is to ensure that the smile on his Lord’s face remains on her lips.

 

I shall perform a section of a nice melody on the lyre. At the sound of regular breathing, it seems that she has fallen asleep unknowingly. I stood quietly to vacate from my seat.

 

Wondering why the bedroom was so bright, the answer seems to lie with the full moon. There was a reason why that woman had invaded the Princess’s thoughts.

 

It’s also a night where the wolves howl.

 

・○・●・○・

 

Act 1

 

Let me tell you what happened six years ago, when I was fourteen.

 

I was a rookie that had just stepped into the royal palace. With unkempt hair, in colourful loose clothes, and decked awkwardly in makeup. In short, I was a foolish kid that didn’t know who’s who and where’s where. It was also my first time seeing His Majesty, King Tristan V Johann from a portrait hanging on the palace’s hallway. Now that I think of it, I don’t know how I managed to survive until now.

 

As with everywhere else in Winsland, the people of the royal palace were divided into two categories; those with a title and those without, nobles and commoners. I belonged to the latter category.

 

The nobles solely managed all the important tasks. Attending to the bedrooms of the royal family, appraising the food and wine, educating the ladies-in-waiting and attendants. I wasn’t interested in being an elite minority. It was my opinion that in order to be accepted by a new place, it was more beneficial to gain the approval of many. There were hundreds of workers that lived out of sight while labouring assiduously.

 

For the first few days, I was an outcast that was made to sleep on a laid-out straw mat in the kitchen. It was fortunate that I was somewhat quick-witted, so I learnt how to earn the favour of others.

 

First, whenever the workers chatted while doing laundry or cleaning, I would sneakily help them. Please think about it for a moment. When life is constantly filled with wrinkles from hardships, who would be able to stand being hard on a cute-looking child that appears suddenly, smiles charmingly and acts coyly?

 

For some reason, a maid liked me so much that she would give me candy whenever I met her, and it was rather embarrassing that I had to eat it all in front of her. Goose-flavoured candy, which has plenty of goose oil in it, was a great item that you’d never find elsewhere.

 

I took full advantage of being the youngest in age, and ignited their instincts to protect their youngest.

 

Workers were a constant fount of information. Less than a week later, I became well versed in all the rumours that were circulating in the city.

 

The topic that had caused a sensation throughout the country was the Queen that was under the blade of the executioner. Under the colourful charges of treason, adultery, black magic and attempted murder that adnorned her like ornaments, the woman that proudly asserted her innocence before a judge was the woman named Katherine Blyde. While there were many nobles that fell instantly due to conspiracies, it was rare for the mother of a nation to end up like that.

 

Even now, I still remember. Katherine’s trial could be called a national event. Both nobles and commoners alike stood right outside the court of law, waiting for the verdict. As the man peering through the window and reading the judge’s lips waved a red handkerchief symbolistic of ‘being guilty’, the majority of the crowd cheered immediately. This was because, not only was it the long-awaited verdict, it also meant that another highlight was added.

 

Would you like to hear something interesting? When it was time to decide whether the accused was guilty or not, the judging council wasn’t divided. Instead, the decision tilted towards one side and was settled too quickly.

 

Katherine had many enemies. From the moment she took power, her life wasn’t smooth sailing. First of all, as the succeeding Queen, there was a very important opponent that she had to compete against. That would be the preceding Queen, Monil of Pembrooke, Princess Verona’s mother.

 

Monil was a quiet and upright woman. Born as the young lady of the ducal family, she has interacted with the royal family ever since her childhood, and completed preparations to become the mother of the nation at an early age through rigorous education. It was unimaginable that there would be a more suitable Queen than her. It was also a testament to the might and prosperity of Winsland as a distinctly powerful nation, when for the first time in several generations, a foreign Princess wasn’t taken as a Queen.

 

Tristan V and Monil of Pembrooke married with the blessings from the entire country. It was said that when the couple took a walk, it was like a pair of swans swimming around gracefully. Everyone expected them to remain a devoted couple to the end.

 

However, Monil’s body got weaker and died from an illness early. Her position was replaced by a fiercely burning flame, Katherine Blyde, as if she had long awaited it. It was clear that the people were discontent with the difference between these two women.

 

Many people looked at this story in an inflexible manner. A king that was troubled by the death of his beloved wife. A crafty woman that took advantage of his moment of weakness and dug in like a snake. Even though it was cliché, it was quite popular amongst the people, as they liked to polarise everything.

 

There were many different names that referred to Katherine. The most commonly used one was ‘the Mad Queen’. She was the craziest of all the queens recorded in history. She would occasionally be called “the Wolf Woman” by those who praised her. A woman that led such a passionate life like hers would have as many followers as enemies.

 

To explain the meaning behind the two titles, we must first look back at the history of Winsland.

 

About a thousand years ago, there was a group of barbarians that sailed in the eastern seas. It was a combative group that made others look at them differently, with bullhorns as head gears and wielding axes. They discovered and settled on a sunny continent covered with grasslands, which is Winsland, and the first king of the barbarians was Heath.

 

It was said that King Heath had a sacred wolf with black fur and golden eyes. The wolf was by the king’s side day and night, both on the battlefield and in private. He served as a judge who preyed upon those that were threats, based on loyalty and bestial instinctivity, becoming the source of fear and reverence towards the king.

 

One day, King Heath made the mistake of not bringing along the wolf to a banquet, and died after drinking poisoned wine.

 

The ownerless wolf climbed the northern mountain and disappeared without a trace. It’s said that when a person worthy of succeeding the legacy of King Heath entered the mountains, the wolf will acknowledge him as its owner and grant him absolute kingship.

 

Coincidentally, King Heath didn’t leave any children behind, so his family line was cut off with his death. Therefore, modern scholars interpreted that ‘qualification’ to be a noble quality inherently within the soul, and not a matter of bloodline.

 

This romantic story had managed to gain devotees over time, despite the restrictions from the church. Even now, countless people await the true king that’s chosen by the wolf. Katherine Blyde was one of them.

 

Those that were overly absorbed in this legend often fall into the delusion that they themselves were a worthy monarch. The northern mountain was filled with pilgrims with such beliefs. According to records, approaching the wolf when you’re unqualified would result in death, making this a lifelong gamble.

 

But Katherine was different from the rest. One day, she began to claim that she was the wolf from that legend. The creature that disappeared a thousand years ago now walked amongst us in the form of a woman. What an absurdly beautiful story!

 

Of course, she didn’t proclaim it loudly and publicly. The words that she had spoken quietly to the ladies-in-waiting were leaked out accidentally. Most of the rumours in the royal palace started circulating slowly from a secret place.

 

In reality, Katherine had black hair and golden eyes, and she understood the history of King Heath more than any other scholar. When talking about him, she called him intimately as if she was personally acquainted with him. It was also said that she often looked dazedly at the northern mountain with sorrowful eyes.

 

It could have been simply regarded as a type of delusion. But the nobles have no intention of downplaying it. When a person at the center of a fierce power struggle starts to say such absurd remarks, it means the person has reached the limit, both mentally and emotionally. It was a very good opportunity in many ways for those who thought of her like a thorn in their side.

 

Finally, on a spring day in May.

 

The execution ground was crowded with people. Even those that struggled to make a living, left their work aside and rushed to the venue. Nobles that refused to interact with commoners, forgot about their dignity and craned their necks out from the supreme court’s window. On the same day, everyone looked at the same place at the same hour with the same heart.

 

Katherine was able to achieve something impressive even after being banished from her throne. She managed to bring unity amongst the people, regardless of class and status.

 

The young executioner dressed in a black cloak swung his sword a few times like he was rehearsing, before holding the rosary around his neck with his eyes closed. He had always prayed before taking a life. He believed that if he did so, those he killed would go to heaven.

 

The executioner’s sword being used was lighter and sharper than normal. It was a special object that he would only take out when he was commanded to give a merciful death.

 

I had always thought of the execution ground as a stage. As everything took place above eye level, even if it was a vile and atrocious act, we’d have to raise our heads to watch. As we observe, reality fades away and we become a part of the play.

 

The executioner wields his sword indifferently, and the death row inmate doesn’t scream or cry in their final moments. This was because when the curtains fell and the seats were emptied, he would come back to life.

 

It was all just a play. As such, there wasn’t a need to frown or feel guilty. When those that would usually break into a cold sweat at the sight of the neighbour’s dog being beaten stood before the scaffold, they would consider the scene of decapitation as merely a play.

 

His Majesty the King sat on the balcony of the Supreme Court, looking downwards at the execution ground. His emotionless face, that had neither joy nor sorrow, was like the still deep sea that wind and waves couldn’t reach.

 

Someone shouted in the distance.

 

“Make way for the sinner!”

 

It was the moment where the Queen would appear. Everyone held their breaths, as they had never seen such a beautiful woman up close like this.

 

Dressed in a black cloak and hair styled in a dignified manner, she did not lose her arrogance despite the harsh treatment of the gendarmerie. Other than her pale white skin, black and gold were the colours that she was composed of.

[T/N: A gendarmerie is a military force with law enforcement duties among the civilian population.]

 

The silence was only momentary, before the ground was filled with jeers instantly.

 

“It’s a witch!”

 

“Boo–”

 

When the Queen arrived at the scaffold, she took off her cloak and handed it to the accompanying handmaiden. The young girl with a youthful impression accepted the cloak with a tear-filled face. As such, the Queen personally wiped her tears away.

 

As I was standing close by, I overheard their conversation.

 

“You still act like a child. Would it help if you cry like this?”

 

As the queen spoke sympathetically, her handmaiden’s shoulder shook as she sobbed more emotionally.

 

“Use your tears sparingly, Ophelia. Don’t we all die someday?”

 

“My Queen…”

 

“Instead of me, worry about the child that’ll be left alone.”

 

The handmaiden seemed unwilling to let her go as she kept touching the Queen’s sleeve. The two eventually separated as the military police pushed the Queen’s shoulder. The Queen had immediately and shook off the military policeman’s hand with an equal amount of force. It seemed as if the flame of her life was burning brightly just then.

 

The Queen gave a brief speech before lowering her neck under the blade. She said that she was neither a traitor nor a witch, and if she was guilty of something, it was that she only loved one man in her entire life. It was a meaningful declaration that she wasn’t afraid in the slightest when facing death.

 

It seemed that, I was a part of the crowd at that very moment. What was it that we wanted? What on earth did we want to see, that we had waited here for the Queen’s execution ever since dawn?

 

None of us had believed that she was a real wolf. Even those that loved her did not doubt that she went crazy.

 

…But, what if.

 

What if she could create a miracle with her supernatural powers to avoid her death during her last minutes.

 

That was what we had actually anticipated in the corners of our hearts. We hoped that the Queen wasn’t mad, hoping that the ones who were mistaken were us. We hoped to see the legend come true before our eyes in any shape and form.

 

But a miracle didn’t happen. The Queen rested her neck on the blackened pedestal, and the executioner’s sword split through the air. He ended it as soon as it had started.

 

It was the end of the second Queen of Tristan V, Katherine Blyde.

 

・○・●・○・

 

That evening, a grand banquet was held to celebrate the execution of a traitor. The royal palace was in a hubbub with the sound of clinking glasses and voracious laughter.

 

The nobles that hated Katherine were in a festive mood. As soon as their glasses were emptied, they were filled again, and they laughed over trivial things till their faces were red. It wasn’t because of their buoyant mood that they seemed more depraved than usual.

 

Emotion glimmered beyond their empty smiles. Their relief was evident.

 

Katherine was such a person. Rather than hatred, she was an opponent whose existence evoked fear, and her absence brought relief instead of joy. Those that entered her field of vision exaggerated that they wouldn’t see the sun three days later.

Those who were out of her sight exaggerated and never saw the sun three days later.

 

Originally, such a banquet demanded the presence of His Majesty the King as a show of respect for the decision made by the Supreme Court. But His Majesty’s face was nowhere to be seen. Everyone didn’t realise it as they were so drunk.

 

Not doing something you disliked to do was also symbolistic of power.

 

As usual, I had to move from room to room, providing entertainment for the distinguished guests.

 

‘Tell me a joke!’

 

‘Yes, sir.’

 

‘Give me a riddle!’

 

‘Yes, sir.’

 

‘Perform a stunt!’

 

‘Yes– Oh, I had left the juggling ball behind. Allow me to borrow the apple you’re holding.’

 

I accompanied them, playing like that for a long time.

 

No matter where I went, there would always be some nobles that acted as if they were my master. I am only the royal family’s property.

 

The aristocrats were like children. Constantly asking for things that were interesting, getting entranced by things that sparkled, and working themselves into a fit whenever they couldn’t get what they wanted.

 

It was cute when children did that.

 

Just as I was immersed in the force of habit, Princess Verona, who was sixteen, walked into the banquet hall. It was my first time seeing her from up close. As the Princess had a personality that rejected meaningless entertainment, we wouldn’t have met.

 

Court jesters were originally a part of the culture of entertainment that arose from the prosperity of the kingdom. For example, there were no entertainers during the reign of the austere king Rutherford IV. It was an era where the whole nation dressed only in cheap and prickly gray clothes.

[T/N: austere – severe or strict in manner or attitude.]

 

That was a far cry from the current situation anyway. In any case,

 

“What are you talking about so happily?”

 

The magnetism of the Princess was already present even at a young age. Of course, the Duke of Langston’s flattery remains unchanged.

 

“You look beautiful tonight as well, Princess. I was just about to bid farewell to the Mad Queen.”

 

“Has everyone else other than me had fun?”

 

“No, the most important part was left for the last. Clown, finish the joke that you were about to make.”

 

The Princess then turned her gaze towards me.

 

“So it was you. The clown that my father took a shine upon.”

 

No, rather than saying favoured, it was more like calling me to juggle for hours by his side when he was bored, and rather than juggling correctly, he found it more amusing when I made a big deal out of my mistakes, and when I repressed my words of, “Please save me.”

 

The Royal Princess seemed like she was about to properly evaluate me as she crossed her arms.

 

“Well, give it a try.”

 

As per the order, a prepared joke left my mouth. Although I don’t remember it clearly, it surely was dirty and obscene. The nobles laughed while holding their stomachs.

 

The Princess remained silent, before asking with a serious expression.

 

“How old are you?”

 

My whole body went numb at the sight of her soul-piercing gaze. I answered while picking up the etiquette I had long thrown away.

 

“I’m fourteen.”

 

“Fourteen… But you’re still making such jokes?”

 

“Was it not to your liking?”

 

“The contents were rude. The Duke of Langston seems to like it.”

 

As the Duke was already dead drunk, he did not listen to our conversation.

 

“…My apologies.”

 

“From now onwards, refrain from doing anything that is unbefitting of the royal palace. Do you understand?”

 

After giving me such a warning, the Princess walked far away.

 

At the strange feeling, I had remained still for a moment. How could someone like me have been disrespectful to such a precious person? To think that my words that were dismissed as a fool’s chatter would hold such meaning and weight.

 

That’s right. It was surprising that people were an existence that was both disrespectful to one another, and yet entertained each other. However, the natural hardships and happiness of human relationships are not permitted for me. This was because a clown should be an existence that only brought joy.

 

This incident was surprising for three reasons. Firstly, there still was someone that looked at me as a human being, and not a clown. Secondly, it happened in this royal palace. Thirdly, it was the noble Princess.

 

If you know something that’s more incredible than this, I’ll buy it for 50 crowns. These days, I suffered quite a bit as there was a lack of interesting stories to tell the nobles.

 

Did you ask why I did not tell this story? Have you gone insane? It’s a pure memory that I would like to cherish, and I don’t intend to bring it within ten steps of the dirty ear holes of those nobles.

 

In any case, returning back to the point.

 

While I was deep in thought, someone grabbed my shoulder. It was Duke Ansley, an old friend of His Majesty the King, and the chancellor.