The Killing Joke

N°2

For the remainder of dusk the convivialities went on if full whirl, only well after midnight did the guests begin the retreat into their assigned chambers. To your grand relief, you neither had to see Vitor again, nore did your father feel the need to mention anything regarding apt suitors. And as soon you were allowed to withdrawal into your chamber too, you gladly did sans hesitation or procrastination.

As you apacely stride your usual path through the south wing of the manor towards your personal boudoir, you are however caught off infront of your door by a guard who seemingly had awaited your arrival. "Good evening miss, I was instructed by the emperor to hand you this here key to the dogs coops." The sentinel announces, handing you a compact key, which you hesitantly take, curiously eyeing the shiny metal glistening in the candle light flooding the corridor. "To the coops? Why'd I need such a thing? I do not keep any dogs in the stables." You inquire precariously, tilting your head in wonderment as you eye remain locked on the fragile looking key.

"The jester, madam, we were allocated to lock him up there. Your father did unambiguously order to keep him outside the usual living quarters." The guard answered, making your eyes widen a bit, nervously chewing down on your bottom lip. That really seemed unnecessary barbarous, keeping a human being in the mews was a little too much even if it was a mild summer night. But what could you do? Really, anything that would show any leniency would be immediately suspicious, even if your guilt demanded otherwise. So you fleetly thank the guard before scampering into your spacious bedchamber, locking the door behind you.

There, you swiftly proceed to do as you did every night, rid yourself of the fiddly, frilly skirt and crinoline, a rather heavy contraption to carry around all day. And after purging yourself of that dastardly tight, stiflingly corset lacing up your torso, the fancy bodice; you lastly dislodge the face paint and the intricate headpiece to free your natural hair from under the sweat inducing decor. Finally, you could breathe properly, you think to yourself as you throw over your much lighter nightgown before thoroughly combing your straggly, h/c hair.

You were about to just call it a day and plummet into your bed for a well deserved catnap, when your eyes suddenly get stuck on the metallic key laying beside you on your dressing table, judgingly scintillating in the candles turbid light. For some peculiar reason you could not help but to sense a acrid guilt creeping into your guts, screaming to be taken care of, demanding to be resolved before granting you any ease. Like you could see the fools pleading eyes glistening in the keys reflection for a moment.

With a deep sigh, and a mild trembling, you give in to your moral sense nagging away at your mind; grasping the key timidly. It was the middle of the night, who could possible catch you sneaking about in the veil of the obscurity? Only the moon would be your spectator tonight. Might as well apologize on behalf of your fathers discourteous behaviour. So you collect a slightly older blanket no one would miss, the remainder of the food you could fiend from this noon, and silently prowl out of your chamber and into the dark maze of corridors you knew like the back of your hand.

Fleetly slinking outside into the garden areas you are glad to find most everyone gone, no lights are left burning in the estate, and the guards did not frequent to patrol through the park in the back of the manor were the stables were. So you had easy game skulking into the mews were the animals of the estate were kept. Once the large, wooden door is securely shut behind you, you lighten the portable candlestick you had snuck along in order to make some light in the dusky stables.

First thing you find are the graceful stallions in their compartments neighing softly at you disturbing their night's rest, however not loud enough to alarm anyone, they knew your face and scent to be a unthreatening one after all. Only when you reach the very last corner of the large stable complex, there where you frequented to lock to hunting hounds after hunting season, you find what you were looking for. Amongst the mostly empty kennels, the dim light of the candle outlined a pale human figure huddled in one of the crude cages.