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People assume, that because they are cynical and power hungry and cutthroat, because the Queen is kind and content and soft-spoken, that they are smarter than her.
The castle contains a vast array of enchantments; dozens of protective wards, utilities, devices that don't need to operate magically but why not have all the ovens in the kitchen burn with magical flame when you can afford to have them enchanted thusly?
All these things require upkeep, and the Queen has no court wizard of her own. The opportunity for one to offer their own loyal mage, to help out the Queen and perhaps, subtly, set up a few things they shouldn't, is obvious and ripe for the taking.
The Queen graciously accepts every offered helping hand, arranges for them all to arrive at the same time, and then decides that she is feeling faint and should spend a few days confined to bed for her health.
And so, her charge safely sequestered away behind a slew of other guards and healers, the Knight roams.
"Esteemed mage, might I speak with you a moment?" She asks one of their guests, polite and deferential.
Theirs is a practiced dance, the steps played out without music or direction. The Knight does not need to be told the Queen's plans to enact them, for she knows her lady as truly as she knows herself.
"I worry, you see, that Her Majesty's heart is perhaps too gentle for her own good. That she cannot conceive that not all of her advisors have her best interests in mind, sending their wizards here."
She pauses there, with a slight grimace and tilt of her head. Waits for the intruder to make their calculated acknowledgement, to wonder if perhaps they've been made.
"Really?" The mage says, tone carefully controlled. "You suspect treachery?"
"I don't know." The Knight lies. "I see the opportunity, and- My lady is vulnerable. I can't pretend that there are none so vile that they would take advantage of her weakness. But your lady-"
There is a trait shared by schemers and wizards alike, and it is the complete belief that they are the smartest person in any room graced by their presence.
"Your lady has always been her favorite aunt, and she's been like a second mother to her ever since her parents passed. I've no understanding of any of the spells you all weave through our halls, but I know I can trust you- If you see anything suspicious at all-"
The wizard nods quickly, a slight gleam in their eye as they spy a new angle to work, the chance to sabotage their rivals and ingratiate themselves handed to them on a silver platter. "Oh, of course, I'll keep an eye out."
The Knight makes a show of smiling and relaxing. She is the fretful knight of a pathetic queen; perhaps a hair less gullible, but only just.
"Thank you, truly. Don't put yourself in harms way, and speak no more of it here- Her Majesty suffers already, this week. I would hate to burden her with further troubles."
"I'll send a missive, once we've finished here, of my findings and how I've attempted to ward against them."
"That would be wonderful, I can't thank you enough." The Knight says, clasping her hands together. "I must take my leave, but know that Her Majesty will be made aware of you and your lady's service."
She roams again, searching the halls for more wizards.
"Oh me, oh my, does the Knight think herself a trickster?" Comes a voice from above, and the Knight sighs. "Would she like to raid my wardrobe, while she's at it? Decorate herself with bells? A silly hat?"
She doesn't know what the Fool's fucking problem is, but the nuisance makes sure that it becomes her problem as well. She gets to make grand romantic gestures to the Queen (A unicorn? How did she even do that?), gets the poetic nicknames, and somehow through it all she seems to resent the Knight for it.
"Must you slink around in the dark like an awful thing?" The Knight asks, spying a belled boot hanging from the shadows of the rafters. "I do this for Her Majesty, don't interfere."
"Oh, for Her Majesty? You're Her Majesty's trickster? Why, it does seem I've been replaced! Mayhap I'll go fuck myself."
"It's what I'd suggest." Says the Knight, and she continues on her way.
Replaced, what would the Fool know of being replaced? Of all the idiot things-
She shakes the thought. Her lady needs her right now. The upstart jester can do as she pleases, but only she can carry out her lady's will. That can never be taken from her.
"Excuse me, esteemed mage, might I speak with you a moment?" She says, emotions hidden behind her mask of polite duty. "I worry, you see-"
