One of the male knights reached for my deck, but I pulled it back just out of his grasp.
"Oi!" he growled, his weathered face twisting. "You said pick a card."
Gods, you'd think Holy Crescent Order knights, Lirania's finest, would have better manners.
Authority changes a man, I swear.
I widened my grin, painted lips curling, and tilted my head toward the orange-haired knight.
Her golden eyes bored into me, uncaring.
"Ladies first, always," I spoke, voice dripping with charm.
Most women would've flushed red by now, tripping over themselves for a smile from me.
But this knight? Not even a smile.
Her face stayed stone-cold, like I was scum beneath her feet.
Just who was she?
"This better be worth my time, jester," she said, her voice soft yet sharp.
She stepped forward, armour clinking, and plucked a card from the fanned deck with deliberate precision.
I knew the card the moment her fingers touched it.
My deck, which consists of 104 sigil-etched cards made of magic, whispers its secrets to me alone.
I reshuffled the remaining 103, shooting her a mischievous smirk.
"Please," I said, passing the deck to one of the men, "call me The Fool."
The knights watched as the other one took the deck.
I gestured for him to shuffle.
"Now, let's see what fate deals me."
He mixed the cards clumsily, and I drew one, holding it outwards with a theatrical grin.
"Well, well. It seems I've drawn the Jester."
The men exchanged glances. They hardly seemed surprised.
In a city crawling with mages, that alone wouldn't turn heads.
But I wasn't finished.
To impress the Holy Order knights, you need spectacles.
"Milady," I said, bowing slightly to the woman, "reveal your card, if you please."
Her expression didn't shift as she pulled the card from where she'd tucked it against her breastplate.
She flashed it: the Knight, a warrior in etched silver, blade gleaming.
My grin widened. The stage was set.
"How fitting," I said, drawing a deep breath. "I didn't mention, but in a moment, these cards will fight for us."
The knights blinked, confused. I showed them what I meant.
With a snap of my fingers, shadows split from the cards, coalescing into spectral forms.
From her card rose a female knight, clad in radiant armour, a greatsword gripped in both hands, ready to strike.
From mine emerged a jester. He carried no weapon, and yet his painted face grinned under a belled cap.
"Incredible," one of the men muttered, stroking his stubbled chin. "But your clowns got no chance. No weapon against a knight? He's fucked."
I flashed him a smile, red eyes glinting.
"A Fool doesn't need steel. Tricks are more his thing."
The spectral knight raised her greatsword, shadow-steel gleaming, ready to cleave the jester in two.
The crowd around us hushed, drawn to the display. But before the blade fell, the jester darted forward.
"Ahhh!"
A gasp tore from the orange-haired woman's lips.
No, not a gasp... a moan, soft and unmistakably seductive.
Her cheeks flushed a delicate pink, and her knees buckled slightly, as if the cobblestones had turned to jelly beneath her.
Those golden eyes widened, flickering with something between shock and… pleasure?
"What in the hell?" one of her companions barked, stepping toward her. "Glory, you alright?"
Glory. So that's her name.
Knight Glory's breath came in shallow bursts, like she'd just fought a battle herself.
But I knew the truth, and from the way her gaze darted to mine, she suspected it too.
Nothing was wrong with her.
In fact, she was feeling better than ever.
" I-I'm fine," she stuttered, forcing her voice steady.
She thrust the card back at me, her fingers trembling faintly. "Take it. You win."
The other knights gaped. "What? It was just getting good!" the second protested.
But Glory wasn't listening. She spun on her heel, armour clanking, and strode into the bustling street, her orange hair catching the sun like a flame.
The men hesitated, torn between chasing her and staying with me.
But they were knights, at the end of the day
They had duties.
"Apologies, Fool," one grunted. "Another time."
They jogged after her, leaving me alone with the murmuring crowd.
A lesser showman might call this a failure. An unfinished act, which would mean a flop for a clown's first day in Lirania.
But me? I saw victory.
Knight Glory, pride of the Holy Crescent Order, had fled, rattled by sensations she couldn't name. But I knew she'd be back.
Oh, she'd be back soon.
———
Later that night, in the sanctuary of her private quarters, Glory sat on the bed with her armour discarded to the side.
She hugged her knees close to her chest, whilst thumping at the crimson moon pendant draped around her slender neck.
But her mind was elsewhere... On the Knight, the Jester, and most importantly, the Fool.
The moan that escaped her lips in public. She had never made such a sound in her life.
And at the same time, she had never felt such pleasure either.
During the battle of cards, the Jester somehow slipped through the Knight's defences, landing a glancing blow on her chestplate.
Yet somehow, Glory felt that blow on her own body.
Not a blow of pain, but rather an insurmountable pleasure.
It was as though a spell had been cast on her.
She hated magic, always had, which was why she chose the way of the sword.
But this magic used by the Fool was different. She couldn't help but feel some sort of admiration for it welling in the depths of her stomach.
It was as though her body was betraying her mind.
Glory let out a sigh, as she lay back naked on her bed.
"I shouldn't even be thinking about such things. With the looming war between the Holy Order and the Sun Covenent..."
And yet, deep down she knew.
This event would play on her mind forever.
Now that she had been given a taste of pleasure, she needed to know more.
She needed to meet The Fool again.
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