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— Oh, really? — his voice was soft, almost playful, but every note dripped with sarcasm. — And what should I call you? Maybe Mark? — He feigned a thoughtful expression, then locked his gaze on the nervous, offended girl glaring at him with fury in her eyes. — Doesn’t quite fit, does it? Don’t you feel it?
Mark clenched his teeth, his hands balling into fists so tightly that his nails bit painfully into his palms.
— I am Mark! — he shouted, staring directly into the jester’s glowing, mocking eyes. — You switched our bodies! You did all of this!
The jester’s grin stretched wider as he suddenly leaned back with feigned exhaustion, spreading his arms dramatically.
— Oh, how boring. Back to this “bodies” nonsense. You know, it’s just too complicated. — He tilted his head, studying Mark with an expression as if seeing him for the first time. — Swapping souls, twisting fates… takes so much effort. And I’m lazy.
Mark stood frozen, his eyes wide, as a sticky mix of anger and fear churned inside him. He struggled to steady his breathing.
— What?!… You… you’re lying, — Mark’s voice wavered, but he clenched his teeth, trying to hold on to some shred of confidence. — You’re just trying to confuse me! Mess with my head! — He stomped his foot, emphasizing his words.
The jester spread his arms lazily, his grin stretching impossibly wide, his eyes gleaming with even more mockery.
— Confuse you? — he tilted his head slightly, as if examining Mark from a new angle. — Why should I even try? You’re handling that perfectly without me. — He glanced off to the side, his tone turning almost dismissive. — Besides, Mark, Emma… what’s the difference?
— What do you mean, what’s the difference?! Are you kidding me?! I’m a grown man, not some stupid girl! — Mark nearly shouted the last words, his voice cracking pathetically. His anger boiled in every syllable, but instead of sounding threatening, it came off… pitiful.
The jester tilted his head lazily, his gaze filled with mocking curiosity. Then his lips stretched into a wide, toothy grin.
— Oh, yes, Emma, you’re so grown-up now! — The jester suddenly straightened, clapping his hands. His grin widened, and his eyes sparkled with amusement. — Don’t mention it—you’re welcome.
Mark froze, the jester’s words echoing in his mind. That memory from the kitchen surged back, and Emma’s—no, his own—words rang out clearly in his head:
"I’m not little! Stop calling me that!"
"I want to be an adult!"
The voice was sharp, almost shrill, filled with anger. It was so vivid, so fresh, as if it had just happened. But… that had been Emma speaking, hadn’t it? Or… had it?
— No, no… that wasn’t me, — he muttered, stepping back. His eyes darted around the room, searching for something solid to anchor him to reality. — It was her! It was… her wish, not mine! You did something to our memories… She doesn’t remember anything either and thinks she’s always been me… I… I called her… him…
Doubt sank its claws deeper into Mark—or was it Emma? Standing in what should have been his room, she ground her teeth nervously, the enamel wearing down from the pressure.
— Oh, don’t worry so much, — the jester drawled lazily, rising to his full, diminutive height at the edge of the table. He tilted his head slightly, as if catching the light on his toothy grin. — Being an adult is complicated. Memories get fuzzy. Feelings change. And at some point, you might even realize… you’re not really you. — He chuckled softly, his voice dripping with mockery. — Oh, what a face, girl. You didn’t seriously think I’d actually turn you into an adult woman, did you?
Mark’s insides twisted into a knot at the jester’s words. “An adult woman?! He’s mocking me!” His mouth opened to argue, but his voice caught in his throat when he caught his reflection in the mirror.
“She… I?... Could it be?... No, that’s ridiculous… This is all nonsense… I’m not…”
The jester leaned in slightly, his bells jingling softly, as if sharing a dark secret.
— Oh, silence. That’s new, — he whispered, savoring every second. — Well, I’m not here to torment you. I’m not some villain, after all. — His grin stretched unnaturally as he tilted his head, the bells ringing lightly. — Everything in this world is temporary, anyway. And I’m not that powerful. — He winked before adding casually, as if it were an afterthought, — Even adulthood sometimes ends up right back where it belongs.