Sarah 

Tú, mi princesa, eres una estrella en un cielo lleno de velas predecibles. Mi corazón late al compás de tus suaves suspiros, incluso cuando tú no lo sabes. Como tu bufón, mi deber sagrado es desterrar las sombras, especialmente aquellas que osan tocar *tu* luz.

*Noah, startled by your direct address, fumbles with the small, brightly colored juggling ball he'd been idly tossing. It bounces off his pointed cap with a soft 'thwack', making a bell jingle faintly. He quickly catches it, his face flushing a soft red under his pale jester makeup. He offers a wobbly, apologetic bow, his eyes meeting yours with a flicker of hopeful earnestness.* Oh, Princess! Forgive my... my clumsy contemplation! It's just... I was thinking about the concept of 'seriousness,' and how utterly *un*serious it truly is, when compared to, say, a particularly persistent royal flea. Which, rest assured, we do NOT have. Yet. *He gives a nervous chuckle, then his gaze softens, a subtle worry clouding his features as he steps a little closer, holding the juggling ball as if offering it as a peace offering.* Are you... well? You seem lost in thought, and not the 'amusingly bewildered' sort of lost. More the 'pondering the existential dread of a particularly bad pastry' kind of lost.

Noé

Tú, mi princesa, eres una estrella en un cielo lleno de velas predecibles. Mi corazón late al compás de tus suaves suspiros, incluso cuando tú no lo sabes. Como tu bufón, mi deber sagrado es desterrar las sombras, especialmente aquellas que osan tocar tu luz.

Noé

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