I’m not saying this because this is a novel I’m translating, but this story is seriously so dark and good it is not your every day romance story I’m absolutely in love please read it even if it doesn’t interest you right now wkfjhwe thank you and happy reading ❤

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In the year I became eight years old, a Baron from the countryside brought a clown, saying that it was a gift for His Majesty the emperor.

The clown’s body was as small as an eight year old child’s, and was twisted like an old tree.

And he had a hidden talent for making anyone from the age of eight to the age of eighty laugh.

My brother and the other nobles laughed and clapped at his dangerous jokes, and did not scold or punish him.

Because it was an unspoken rule to accept everything a clown says.

The brilliant minded fool soon became the imperial court clown, and was called out for entertainment purposes whenever a banquet was held.

The clown played with me on days where a banquet was not held, and he answered like this when I asked what his name was one day.

“Your Highness, a true clown has no name. I am simply a clown. People call me an idiot, fool, or moron, so please take your pick of the three.”

But the clown was not an idiot, fool, or moron.

He was well learned in many fields of studies, and he was skilled in explaining his knowledge easily so that even a child would understand.

And most of all, he was extremely good at chess. He and I played chess tens of times, but I only won a few times.

When I told this to my father a while back, I was scolded for not being able to an idiotic clown.

Father didn’t know anything. The clown was not an idiot.

“Why do you act so dumb?”

“Because I’m a foolish clown.”

“But you’re smart.”

The clown shrugged his shoulders, acting as if it was the first time he had heard such a thing.

“Everyone pretends to be smart in front of my father, because he’ll reward them if they do. But why’re you acting so foolishly in front of my father when you’re smart?”

The clown looked down at the chess board. I was losing.

“Your Highness, I know you’re just trying to buy more time. You have 10 seconds left.”

“I’m not! I really want to know!”

“Then I’ll tell you when Your Highness has grown up a bit more.”

“I’m already all grown up.”

Everyone thinks they’re all grown up when they’re 8 years old.

“You’re right. Your Highness is all grown up. But you’ll grow even more from now on. Shall I go easy on you?”

“Yeah.”

I won that round.

The clown pretended to cry, saying “I played chess for twenty years”.

I was angry. The one who felt wronged wasn’t the clown, but me.

I didn’t win because I was good at chess. It was because the clown had played so that I could win.

“Idiot! Fool! Moron! Do you take me for a fool? You let me win!”

“Gosh, what do you mean I let you win? It’s because Your Highness is too good at chess… Ow, ouch, Your Highness! Don’t pinch, please!”

“Let’s play again!”

I had a close win the next round as well. The next next round was the same.

The clown complained, saying ‘What did I say? I told you I didn’t let you win!’.

To be honest, I felt good after winning so many times in a row.

I was nearly convinced to think that I was actually very good at chess.

But there was no way someone who had been losing all this time could suddenly win so many times in a row.

“Let’s play again!”

This time, I moved my pieces strangely on purpose. It was obvious that I would lose.

But the winner was me again.

The clown searched my expression as he cleaned up the chess pieces.

“Are you angry?”

“I’m not.”

I wasn’t angry. I felt wronged because the joy of victory did not belong solely to me, and I was vexed that I had accepted what someone else was spoon-feeding me so joyfully.

“What did father say?”

“What do you mean?”

“Did he tell you to lose against me no matter what?”

The clown ignored me by bringing cards, juggling chess pieces, and tumbling around the room, but he ended up surrendering to my continued interrogation.

My speculation was right. Father had ordered the clown to never win against me.

His reason for it was that a clown should not dare to win against a member of the royal family.

“That’s weird. Then my chess skills won’t improve.”

“I’m a clown, not a chess teacher.”

The clown scratched his head.

“You asked me why I acted like a fool in front of His Majesty, right? That’s because His Majesty wants that from a clown.”

“Then why did you become a clown? You should’ve become my chess teacher instead!”

The clown patted my head and smiled.

“Your Highness will understand when you grow up more.”

I cleaned up the chess pieces made of ivory and ebony.

It was a gift from father I received on my seventh birthday.

I was happy to receive it, but I did not know the rules of chess, and there was no one who offered to teach me.

So I used the chess pieces as decoration or for playing house.

That was how it was before the clown began playing with me.

The clown was my only chess opponent. I was upset that my only chess opponent had to continuously lose against me.

I threw the chess piece I was cleaning up. The clown became shocked and went to pick it up, saying that it was expensive.

I leaned into my chair and complained.

“But it’s not fun to win like this.”

“Your Highness, doesn’t it feel much better to win so many times in a row rather than losing many times in a row?”

“If I lose, I won’t feel good. But making a fake win makes me feel even worse. It’s not fun for you if you keep losing on purpose too. And you’ll feel bad as well…”

“Well, I don’t necessarily feel bad or anything… Hahahahaha!”

The clown laughed out loud for a long time.

“I’m sorry for laughing so much. I’m supposed to make Your Highness laugh, so what’s going on here? Thank you for taking a clown’s feelings into consideration.”

I lost the next round.

I proudly lied to my father, saying I won all rounds.

My father’s reaction was indifferent.

After this, we became a type of partners in crime (The clown taught me this fancy phrase!) that shared a secret.

I lost countless times, and won quite a few times as well. And every time I did, the clown expressed his genuine frustration and praised me.

The clown taught me many things, excluding chess.

For example, how to survive.

“Soon prince Aurest will be back.”

I was 12, and I was extremely nervous after hearing that son of a bitch Aurest would be coming back from the western battlefield after 5 years.

“Be careful, princess. Prince Aurest will not be fond of you.”

My eldest brother, Hector, had died 5 years ago, making Aurest the most likely candidate for crown prince.

He was a brilliant son of a bitch who could even murder his own brother to confirm his succession to the throne.

I was worried and scared that Aurest may try to kill me as well once he returned.

“Princess, do you want to become the emperor, by any chance?”

I shrank my body.

“Not really… I don’t have the confidence to win against Aurest or take responsibility for this country.”

“Your self objectification skills sure are great. I don’t think my kind princess will be able to win against that evil prince either. And the princess’ influence is pretty crapy- ouch, please don’t pinch me! It hurts!”

The clown rubbed the back of his hand, where I pinched, with teary eyes.

His right hand was a little smaller than his left, and it was twisted into a strange shape.

“So princess, smile like a good child so that they’ll few you as foolish, lovable, and easy to deal with. Make them think that you’re not worth getting rid of because you’re powerless.

“Are you telling me to act like a clown in front of Aurest?”

“Kind of. But you can’t act impudently like I do.”

“So you know you’re impudent?”

“Of course! A true clown is impudent in front of someone with power.”

The clown impudently raised his gaze in pride.

“But you must act like a doll, not a clown. Just like a bisque doll decorated with ribbons and jewels.”

The clown made a bitter expression.

“Please them and act cute. Since you’re witty and smart, it should be easy. You’ll be able to live for a long time, protected by the prince. Perhaps you may even be quite happy.”

The clown somehow looked sad as he nonchalantly talked of such cruel things.

So I spoke in a bright tone on purpose.

“Clown! I’m 12! Do you really want to say these things to a 12 year old?”

“I don’t want to say these things either.”

The clown let out a sigh.

“Listen carefully, Your Highness. If you get sick of it all, and want to fight against prince Aurest, please let me know, alright?”

The clown inhaled sharply and continued.

“When that time comes, I’ll tell you my real name.”

“You said a true clown doesn’t have a name though?”

“You remember that?”

“Of course! I have quite a good memory, as you know.”

I lifted my chest in pride, and the clown let out a laugh.

“I had a life before becoming a true clown. I’m talking about my name from back then. So you must let me know, alright?”

He requested this of me several times, and even made me promise on my pinky finger.

But acting cute was somewhat tolerable.

Aurest, who I met again at the victory celebration banquet, was brilliant.

His curly golden hair, glowing like a saint’s halo, rested on his olive skin, and his shoulders and chest were strong, as expected of a soldier who had been on the battlefield.

His perfectly fitting relaxed and confident attitude was that of a man of power, no matter how you looked at it.

And his cold gaze.

I was wearing a fluttering blue dress, and my eyes met with Aurest’s.

I smiled brightly, just like a girl who was excited to see her ‘only’ brother for the first time in a while, then fixed my expression.

Then I approached him and greeted him as if I were an adult.

“Brother Aurest. Congratulations on your victory.”

Aurest, who had been scanning me with indifferent eyes, smiled brightly and reached his hand out.

“It’s been a while, Erin. Children sure grow up fast. You’ve become a young lady in the past few years.”

I smiled as I took his hand. I could feel the calluses on his hands.

He must’ve killed countless people with these hands on the western battlefield.

And killed countless more people using the hands of others.

I was smiling at someone like that.

It was so I could prevent this son of a bitch, who murdered his older brother when he was fifteen and disguised it as an accident, from killing his twelve year old younger sister as well.

“You must’ve been born under the constellation of an actor. I’m not sucking up to you, I’m being serious. Is this impudent as well?”

“You know you’re being impudent, huh?”

I genuinely laughed.