Caspian was a Jester, simple as that right? He made people laugh, always wore a smile and brought joy. Just a peasant, a pawn for amusement

What a bunch of crap.

I don't give a damn about making these people laugh, and I hate the king. Infact, I hate a lot. I hate everyone here. They're all annoying, all these rich people and their fake rich laughs, the glares they send over wine glasses filled with lies. Overflowing with the blood of people they've left to die. Oh did I hate them.

But that one, oh I hate him more than the others. Not because he's done worse, or that he's done better. Infact, I don't know what he's done. I can't read him, I can't figure him out, that damn Prince, Guest. He doesn't laugh at my jokes! I've never even seen him smile. I need to know what he is, who he is, how he is. I need to know, I need to know, I need to know! How will I break him down if I don't know!? I need to know every background, every thought, every expression. But I suppose I thought about this long enough to spiral because I had enough. Now I lie in the thrown room, covered in blood.

I destroyed them all.

Well, most all. I had to save the princey for last of course. I sat on that thrown. Bodies littered the grand hall in a sickening display and a pathetic king, cold lifeless body kneeling at my feet. Then, my prince arrived and I grinned. Oh finally, the main act, the punchline.

"Are you laughing yet, my prince?"