the velvet crown

THE VELVET CROWN Chapter One The Jester's Bell The bells of Valemont Palace rang thirteen times that night. No one noticed. Except the jester. He stood beneath the great clock in the western gallery, listening as the final chime disappeared into the darkness. Thirteen. It was impossible. The clock had never struck thirteen in the three hundred years it had hung above the palace entrance. The royal servants whispered that the clock had been built by a madman, but the king had always dismissed the stories as superstition. The jester knew better. He pulled the hood of his velvet costume lower over his face. A single silver bell at the tip of his cap moved softly. Chime. "You're late." The voice came from behind him. The jester smiled. "Your Highness." Prince Lucien stood at the end of the gallery. He was dressed entirely in black, except for the silver crest embroidered over his chest—the crowned wolf of House Valemont. At twenty-four, Lucien had already mastered the expression expected of a future king: calm, distant, untouchable. But the jester had seen beneath it. He had seen the prince laugh when nobody else was watching. He had seen him cry once. And he had seen the fear in his eyes whenever his father spoke about the crown. "You shouldn't be here," Lucien said. "Neither should you." "This is my palace." "And yet you sound like a man trespassing in it." Lucien's mouth almost curved into a smile. Almost. Then his expression hardened. "Someone has been asking questions about you." The jester stopped smiling. "Who?" "The king." Silence settled between them. Beyond the tall windows, rain streaked the glass. The palace gardens disappeared beneath the storm, and the distant statues looked like pale ghosts. "The king doesn't care about jesters," the jester said. "He cares about everything that happens under his roof." Lucien stepped closer. "Especially secrets." The jester looked at him. For a moment, neither spoke. They were not supposed to be alone together. A prince and a jester. One was born beneath a crown. The other had entered the palace wearing bells. There were rules for everything in Valemont. Who could speak to the royal family. Who could dine at the king's table. Who could enter the eastern wing. Who could touch the crown. And there was one rule that had never been written down. The prince was not to become close to the jester. Because the jester was not what he appeared to be. Lucien reached into his coat and produced a small envelope sealed with black wax. "I found this in my father's study." The jester stared at the seal. A crown surrounded by thorns. His expression changed. "Where did you get that?" "I told you. My father's study." "Who else knows?" "No one." "Then burn it." Lucien frowned. "You haven't even read it." "I don't need to." The jester took one step backward. For the first time that night, the bells on his costume were completely still. Lucien lowered his voice. "Tell me what it means." The jester looked toward the dark corridor. Then back at the prince. "It means your family has been lying to you." Lucien's face went pale. "About what?" The jester reached for the envelope. Before his fingers touched it, footsteps echoed from the staircase. Someone was coming. The prince immediately stepped away. The jester pulled his hood over his face. A moment later, a royal guard appeared at the end of the corridor. "Your Highness." Lucien turned. "Yes?" "The king requests your presence." Lucien glanced briefly at the jester. It was barely noticeable. But the jester noticed. "Tell my father I'll come shortly." The guard bowed. "Of course." He disappeared. Lucien waited until the footsteps faded. Then he looked back. The jester was already walking away. "Wait." The jester stopped. Lucien held up the envelope. "You still haven't answered me." The jester turned his head slightly. "About what?" "Why are you afraid of that seal?" For several seconds, there was only the sound of rain. Then the jester smiled beneath his mask. "Because, Your Highness..." He touched one of the silver bells on his cap. "...the last person who carried that seal was murdered." Lucien froze. The jester disappeared into the shadows. And somewhere beneath the palace, behind walls that had been sealed for generations, something ancient began to move.