I awoke later to a tap on my door. I lay still for a moment,. not sure if I had heard anything, then rose to undo my latches and open the door a crack. The Fool stood outside my door. I do not know if I was more surprised that he had knocked instead of slipping the latches, or at the way he was attired. I stood gaping at him. He bowed genteelly, then pushed his way into my room, closing the door behind him. He fastened a couple of latches, then stepped to the center of the room and extended his arms. He turned in a slow circle for me to admire him. “Well?”
“You don’t look like you,” I said bluntly.
“I am not intended to.” He tugged his overjerkin straight, then plucked at his sleeves to display better not only the embroidery on them, but the slashes that showed off the rich fabric of the sleeves beneath them. He fluffed his plumed hat, set it once more atop his colorless hair. From deepest indigo to palest azure went the colors, and the Fool’s white face, like a peeled egg, peeping out of them. “Fools are no longer in fashion.”
I sat down slowly on my bed. “Regal has dressed you like this,” I said faintly.
“Hardly. He supplied the clothing, of course, but I dressed myself. If Fools are no longer in fashion, consider how lowly would be the valet of a Fool.”
“How about King Shrewd? Is he no longer in fashion?” I asked acidly.
“It is no longer in fashion to be overly concerned with King Shrewd,” he replied. He cut a caper, then stopped, drew himself up with dignity as befitted his new clothes, and took a turn about the room. “I am to sit at the Prince’s table tonight, and be full of merriment and wit. Do you think I shall do well at it?”