A new trophy hung in the great hall: a deer's head, complete with large antlers. The jester couldn't resist.
"Oh, deer," he began predictably, pointing at the head.
Silence.
"It's a lovely head your majesty. Did it not be-hoof you to display the feet?"
A few chuckles were heard. The king smiled slightly.
"The king showed great prowess in the last hunt," the jester tried a new tack. "Not anyone could instruct his hunters to kill such a fine deer. Most of us don't have our own hunters, for one thing!"
The king's mouth twitched between smile and frown, causing his moustache to dance. I was told this jester could weave a good tale, but at my expense?!
"Dearest jester, tread carefully," said the queen, adjusting her crown. "Your future is looking murky as the forest where the deer was hunted."
"My apologies, your majesties," the jester said with an exaggerated bow. "My humour is like the fine venison you are eating. It takes time to digest it."
"More like time to die-jest-er!" snapped the queen.
The king finally laughed, a deep, hearty guffaw.
#Inktober2025 #inktober #microfiction
#mustache #weave #crown #murky #deer