The morning after the noble's humiliation was curiously calm.
No summons from the King. No wrath from the Queen. No reaction from the noble court.
It was the quiet of a predator holding its breath.
Jungho sat at the windowsill of his assigned quarters, legs dangling over the marble ledge. In his palm, the paper coin from the Fool's Guild still felt unnaturally warm.
"Let's see how long you can keep smiling."
A challenge? A warning? An invitation? He hadn't yet decided.
The system chimed.
[System Notice: You are currently under passive evaluation.]
[Court Favor: +1 (residual audience impression)]
He flicked the paper coin into the air. It fluttered once, then stuck unnaturally to the wall like a leech.
Jungho didn't blink.
There was something in the castle now. Watching him, again.
Later that day, a court steward arrived.
"The Queen has requested a private performance."
He bowed. "No audience. No stage. Just her. Tonight."
Jungho arched a brow.
"What kind of performance?"
"She said," the steward paused, "she wants to see what kind of fool laughs in the dark."
That evening, the Queen's private chamber was cleared of attendants.
No guards. No servants. Just Jungho, a single candle, and a woman who had executed four barons last winter without raising her voice.
The Queen of Thalesa was younger than Jungho expected.
Not in age—but in the way her presence pushed air from the room. Young fire, not old stone.
"Fool," she said, sipping her wine without looking at him. "Make me laugh."
Jungho bowed.
"With respect, Your Majesty, that depends."
"On?"
He smiled. "On what kind of lie you prefer."
A pause.
Then a very small smile.
"You may begin."
He did not juggle. He did not dance. He told a story.
A story of a boy born under a prophecy. Not to rule, but to suffer. Every king he served would fall. Every friend would turn to enemy. And the world, when it finally burned, would do so to the sound of his laughter.
It wasn't a joke. Not really.
But the Queen laughed anyway.
Not because it was funny.
Because it was true.
After the candle burned low, she set down her glass.
"You amuse me, jester."
Jungho inclined his head. "I live to serve."
"No," she said, eyes now sharper. "You live because I permit it."
The system surged.
[Warning: Threat Detected. Passive Restriction Enhanced.]
"Should I ever stop laughing, I will have your tongue nailed to the bell tower."
Jungho smiled wider. "Then I shall endeavor to always be hilarious, Your Majesty."
The Queen rose. "Leave me."
Back in his chamber, he nearly collapsed.
The performance had drained him. But more than that—the way she looked at him. Like she knew.
[System Evaluation: Jester Class Evolution Unlocked - Prerequisite Progress: 48%]
[New Passive Acquired: Fool's Nerve – Fear Resistance Enhanced in Royal Presence]
He chuckled bitterly.
"Next they'll give me a skill for smiling while poisoned."
Outside, someone knocked.
"Enter."
A shadow stepped through. Not the watcher. Not a noble.
It was a young maid. Too young.
She curtsied, but did not lift her head.
"You dropped this," she said.
She held up another paper coin. This one burned with red ink—not warm. Hot.
He took it.
This one had no words. Just a crude sketch:
A laughing face split down the middle. On one side, a crown. On the other, a noose.
Jungho didn't need a system message to understand.
A choice was coming.
And fools, by nature, were expected to laugh no matter how they died.
The silence of the Queen's chamber clung to Jungho like a second skin long after he left. The candle smoke lingered on his clothes, and so did the weight of her stare. It hadn't been just a performance. It had been a trial. A test. And somehow, he had passed—for now.
The paper coin burned faintly in his hand as he returned to his quarters. He stared at the crude sketch again: one face, split down the middle. A crown on one side. A noose on the other.
It wasn't a message. It was a mirror.
---
Sleep didn't come. When he closed his eyes, he saw the Queen's smirk. When he opened them, the system's glow still hovered.
> [Court Favor: +3 (private performance - successful)]
> [System Status: Passive Surveillance - Active Interference Neutralized]
Neutralized? That meant someone had tried to interfere. Someone not part of the system.
He pressed his thumb to the edge of the coin until blood welled. Nothing happened. No portal. No summoning. Just a growing stain on the coin's edge.
He muttered, "Then I'll bleed for it, if that's what it takes."
---
By morning, the halls buzzed with rumors.
The Queen had laughed. The fool had survived. A noble had disappeared.
Baron Telveron.
No announcement. No body. Just... silence. Which in court meant only one thing: unfinished business.
Jungho pulled his patched jester coat tighter and stepped into the court garden. Roses bloomed here even in frost, a symbol of the kingdom's illusion of stability.
As he walked, a familiar voice greeted him.
"Fool!" Lady Marissa, one of the Queen's whispermaids, waved her fan.
He bowed theatrically. "Yes, my lady?"
"They say your tongue dances better than a duelist's sword."
"And far less blood, unless you insult my rhymes."
She laughed. But her eyes flicked past him, and for a brief second, her gaze narrowed.
Someone was watching.
Again.
---
At midday, another summons arrived.
Not from the Queen. Not from the King.
From the Chancellor.
A rare name. The spider behind the throne. The man who never showed his hand unless it was already on your throat.
Jungho was led to a quiet chamber behind the state archives, where dust replaced guards and cobwebs lined the ceiling like old lace.
The Chancellor sat at a desk, penning a letter in absolute silence.
"Do you know why you're here, Fool?"
Jungho smiled. "Because someone laughed too hard or not enough?"
The Chancellor's lips didn't move, but his eyes flicked up.
"Because you perform too well."
Jungho said nothing.
"You think satire is harmless?" The Chancellor stood. "Every joke hides a dagger. Every laugh weakens the spine of power."
Jungho met his gaze. "Then perhaps the court needs stronger spines."
The Chancellor walked to a cabinet and withdrew a small velvet box. Inside: another mask. Not paper. Porcelain.
"Put it on."
Jungho hesitated.
> [System Alert: Mask of Binding - Limited Duration Effect: 5 Minutes]
He obeyed.
The world shifted. Colors dulled. Sounds faded. He saw threads—literal threads—connecting people in the court: from servant to knight, from noble to queen.
The Chancellor's voice echoed. "See it now, do you? The web. You are a string of disruption. But you are also... useful."
He removed the mask.
"Perform at the masquerade. Do well, and you rise. Fail, and the web tightens."
"And if I refuse?"
The Chancellor smiled. "Then you die, but slower than most."
---
That night, Jungho stood before his cracked mirror.
The mask he wore daily was invisible. But it weighed more than steel.
He looked down at the paper coin and porcelain mask.
Two masks. Two choices.
Play the fool. Or become the fool.
He picked up his paintbrush.
A new performance was coming.
And this time, he would write the script.