The return to Spade Castle was nearly as silent as leaving it had been. But it wasn't a silence that brushed up against Naqam, pricking at him with the need to break it. There was something comfortable about Hatter's quiet now—it was the same quiet in the trees, content and restless all at the same time.

They were headed home.

Every time he thought the word, it sent an unnameable thrill through him. Not exactly excitement, not exactly fear. It still sat oddly with him, that word. He wasn't really sure it was the right one.

Not for him at least.

Hatter pulled his horse to a halt when they crested a ridge that gave them a stunning view of the castle. They had only been gone about a week, but that seemed to have been enough time for the builders to construct at least seven new buildings.

The castle glimmered in the setting sun and from their vantage point, Naqam could see sapphire waves crashing against the black cliffs the castle perched on.

"I never got the chance to finish the book," he muttered to himself.

Hatter gave him a curious look, and cautiously, Naqam explained, "The princess wanted to know when I finished The Raven and the Writing Desk. She let me borrow it... but I never got the chance to finish it so I could tell her whether I thought Alyn made the right decision or not."

He didn't even know if the main character had decided to kill the man she loved or not. The sudden desire to know snapped through him, and he had to resist the desire to dig the book out from under his clothes.

For a moment, he waited for Hatter to snap at him, to warn him away from the princess. But all Hatter did was shake his head, like he had no idea what Naqam was even talking about.

They nudged their mounts into motion once again, making their way through the treacherously rocky terrain to the north of the castle. This time, the silence was somehow tense.

Naqam didn't know if that was because of Hatter, or because of himself. His doubt and shame had started to swirl as soon as he looked upon the castle. Doubt that he would be allowed to belong here. Shame at turning his back on his people.

"Is this right?" he said softly and half to himself. "Can I really do this? Am I not turning my back on myself? Denying who I really am?"

Hatter didn't answer him until they were nearly at the gates of the castle itself. They dismounted and Mad stood in front of the Ace, looking down on him gravely. 

Slowly, he put a hand on Naqam's shoulder. Those green eyes were heavy when he said, "You have to decide who you really are before you can know if you're running from yourself, kid. And it might take a while before you know." Hatter squeezed his shoulder. "The hardest part might be finding out that you are running from yourself, but in a better direction."

"Because the Spades are better than the Hearts?" Naqam asked. He'd meant for his words to be heated, but they weren't. 

"One group of people isn't inherently better than any other, kid." Hatter sighed, his hand falling away. They began walking toward the opening gates.

As they put the horses up in the royal stables, Hatter left him in silence to stew over that. It wasn't how he'd been taught to think. From birth, he'd had it drilled into him that the Hearts were inherently superior, that Red Decks were inherently better, wiser, purer than Black Decks.

Naqam grappled with what he'd been taught from birth—with the thoughts that had been presented to him like they were truth, pure and undiluted.

Only when they were ascending the steps to the main doors of the castle did Naqam speak. "If one's not better than the other... then why should one rule over another?"

Hatter smiled, the expression pleased. His teeth flashed white against his tan face, his eyes glittering with... Naqam didn't dare to believe it was really approval. The quick grin turned into a half-smile. "Why indeed?"

This made Naqam blink several times, but before he could open his mouth to ask for Hatter to explain further, the doors were being opened.

Lady Adira stood in the main entrance, her lovely face set with lines of strain, her skin paler than usual. Her lips parted, her dark eyes shining when her gaze met Mad's. Naqam stopped moving when the Real Worlder did, afraid to draw the Jack's attention before he needed to.

He let his gaze flicker between the two, frowning as Lady Adira just continued to stare. It was almost like... Naqam flinched inwardly—like she hadn't expected to see him again.

"You're back!" a joyful voice suddenly echoed around them.

Hatter offered Adira a small smile and a nod, barely giving himself time to brace before the princess sprinted down the sweeping staircase before them and launched herself into her godfather's arms. Hatter let out a small huff of breath and nearly stumbled back as the princess clung to him.

"Tarian," a voice reprimanded gently.

Naqam froze, then slowly raised his eyes to find Alice and Killian following the same path their daughter had—albiet more sedately. The queen was smiling when Hatter waved her off, ruffling Tarian's hair as he did so, much to the princess' displeasure.

The King swept his dark gaze first over Hatter, then turned those froze obsidian eyes to Naqam.

Hatred still flowed through his heart, but it was less insistent. More like an echo in the midst of being forgotten than a true feeling. He swallowed as Killian continued to stare at him. No one said anything, watching as the King approached the Ace.

Naqam didn't dare shift his gaze. He stood straight, letting his decision ground itself in his very bones.

Killian's mouth bent in a thoughtful frown, his eyes sweeping over Naqam. Then he turned to Mad, raising a dark brow.

Hatter just shrugged, Tarian still tucked up against his side. "You're not the only one who gets to break the mold, kid."

The King grimaced at Hatter, then broke into a rueful smile, turning his attention away from Naqam, who very nearly sagged in relief. Killian offered a hand to Hatter, who reached forward and clasped it, just to let out a grunt of surprise when Killian dragged him forward into a brotherly embrace.

Discreetly, Naqam observed the royals. He watched the tight lines around the King's eyes begin to soothe away as he grinned at his old friend. He saw the brightness that slowly returned to Lady Adira's eyes. The tension that gently bled from the Queen's shoulders.

He knew the signs. They had been terrified this whole time. Even Alice—even though she'd spoken once on his behalf—even she had believed that Hatter might not return home.

Again, shame welled within him, but a different sort than before. Not shame for what he was leaving, but shame for what he had caused. Shame for the fact that, once, he had considered ripping a hole in this family—inflicting a wound that would never heal, not for as long as any of them lived.

"Naqam!"

He startled when a hand was placed on his arm, but all he did was look down. He didn't reach for a weapon, he didn't even bare his teeth in warning. Instead, he just stared like a fool at the princess.

Tarian raised a bemused eyebrow. "I thought Aces were always supposed to be paying attention?"

Alice and Hatter both chuckled, Adira offering a small smirk. The only one who still looked unamused was the King. Quickly, Naqam turned his attention back to the princess, raising both eyebrows in question.

"I asked if you're hungry?" she said, suppressing another laugh.

As soon as she said the words, his stomach anwered for him with a growl that was loud enough for everyone to hear. He hadn't eaten since sunrise, and it was currently well past noon.

He was famished.

Tarian gave him a conspiratorial wink. "We had lunch hours ago, but I bet we could get Cook to surrender something from his kitchens."

Naqam had absolutely no idea what to do. He stared blankly at the princess, then looked at Hatter in silent supplication. All he did was raise a dark brow and let his gaze flick to the King. 

Cautiously, the Ace looked at Killian, who was frowning fiercely, his eyes narrowed with... Naqam didn't know. It wasn't anger. In fact, the look didn't appear to be truly directed at him. 

There was something internal about the expression, like Killian had submerged so deeply into thought he couldn't be bothered to care that he was silent for much too long. Tarian shared a sideways glance with Naqam, her eyes warning him to keep silent.

He'd never had any intention of speaking anyway. His stomach growled again.

Then, Alice let out a soft sigh and threaded her fingers through her husband's. Killian jolted at the touch, glancing down at his queen. She raised a pale brow in question, a small smile playing at the corner of her mouth.

His mouth quirked, halfway between a grimace and an acquiescence. He rubbed at his temple and let out a long sigh, nodding like they had just been in the middle of an actual conversation, rather than an exchange of silent gestures.

Killian looked at his daughter, his expression softening a little as he gave her a smile that might have been a grimace. "Why don't you make sure the Ace has something to eat then?"

Tarian's entire face lit up in a smile so beautiful it knocked the breath right from Naqam's lungs. He couldn't have resisted even if he wanted to when she grabbed his elbow and started pulling him away from the others.

As they left, he heard Hatter say, "There's a few things we need to discuss, Killian." A long pause. Then: "Something happened when we were up north."

Naqam twisted slightly, looking over his shoulder. Hatter was grim-faced as he looked at the King and Queen, whose backs were to Naqam. The only other person he could see properly was Lady Adira, whose gaze immediately shot to the Ace.

All he managed to do was shake his head, protesting some silent accusation from the Jack. She frowned, her hair a shimmering veil of black silk as she turned slightly to look at Mad, who hadn't missed the exchange.

He said something Naqam couldn't hear as the princess dragged him through an open doorway into another hall. All he could do was hope that Hatter would continue to defend him as he had before the Diamond. 

As the princess led him toward the kitchens in companionable silence, he realized with no small amount of discomfort that Hatter's word was all he really had.

All he had was the hope that Hatter had read his sincerity. That he knew Naqam had meant what he said, even though he was still struggling with his decision. He was utterly at the Real Worlder's mercy, and there should have been something horrible at the thought that he'd willingly put himself there.

Instead, something tentative and uncertain stirred in his heart as he looked down at the princess walking by his side.

It hit him like a bolt of lightning, the understanding. He suddenly understood what Hatter had been trying to tell him outside the castle. 

It wasn't about the group, it was about the individual. It wasn't the Spades who were better than the Hearts, or the Red Decks who were better than the Black Decks. That was too big, too large a scope for true understanding.

It was the fact that Hatter was a better man than Naktis ever had been. That Killian, for all his fierceness, for all his stubborness and distrust, was a better leader than Mavros had been all those years ago.

He looked down at the princess again to find her studying him as well. His mouth went a little dry and he stumbled to a stop right in the middle of the hall they'd been walking down. Tarian blinked in surprise but stopped as well, watching him curiously.

With that understanding, it was like a veil had been ripped away from his eyes. For the first time, he didn't see the black hair that marked her as a Spade. He didn't see the blue eyes that marked her as something from outside of Wonderland.

He simply saw the princess—saw what she promised Wonderland.

Not destruction as Naktis had always preached, but hope.

And Naqam would be well and truly damned if he did anything to stop that from happening.

Tarian smiled, the expression nearly tentative as it answered his own smile—one that had snuck up on him unexpectedly. She let her smile grow as his faded in shock and grabbed his hand.

"Come on," she said. "I have it on good authority that Cook is making blackberry cobbler for dessert. Perhaps if we're lucky we can test it before tonight."

A slightly choked sound came from Naqam's throat as true amusement burst through him at that. The princess looked over her shoulder, her small hand still in his. Her eyes glowed as her mouth opened in an unrestrained laugh of her own.

She tugged at his hand, pulling him into a run and he laughed again, the sound raw and unpracticed.

They ducked and dodged around various servants and workers, more laughter erupting at each startled face they passed until they reached the doors to the kitchen.

Naqam ran a hand through his hair, brushing it out of his face, still grinning and laughing like a fool. Tarian smoothed the wrinkles she'd created in the skirt of her lilac-purple dress, giggling as well, watching him with delight.

"You should laugh more often," she said when they had regained their breath.

The smile fell from his face as he blinked, then frowned. "I laugh plenty."

She knocked her shoulder against his. "No you don't. That's the first time you've laughed since you came here." The princess led him into the kitchens, looking back at him once. "You're handsome when you laugh."

Color stained his cheeks at that, and she left him gaping like a fish while she begged something delicious from the cook.

Silently, he sat at one of the long preparation tables in the large, warm room. The princess flashed more of those pretty smiles, just as at ease down here with the servants as she'd been in the more courtly portions of the castle.

And everyone wanted to indulge her, judging by the heaping plates of blackberry cobbler she returned with.

Naqam silently accepted a fork from her and they ate in silence. He stole as many glances at the princess as he dared. Finally he couldn't stay quiet any longer.

"I haven't really had any reason to laugh before," he admitted quietly.

Unthinkingly, he brushed his thumb over a thick scar on the back of his right hand. It was an old wound. Naktis had slammed his hand in a door, breaking the bones in his dominant hand to force him to train with the other.

It told the story of his childhood as well as any of his other scars though. 

He jumped when the princess lightly touched the scar, her fingers warm and soft. After a moment, he dared to meet her gaze, already bristling at the pity he expected.

It caught him off guard when he found anger instead. A moment passed before he realized it was not anger directed at him.

"Then stay here," she said, her voice forcibly casual as she drew her hand away from his, "and find more reasons to."

A lump formed in his throat, making it hard to speak when he bowed his head. "I'll try."

After a moment, they went back to eating in comfortable silence, the kitchens a whirl of activity and scents around them. A warm, happy place filled with a warm, happy people.

How could Naktis want to destroy this? 

His fingers tightened around his fork, rage spearing through him at the thought, at the knowledge that he had once been willing to let Naktis use him as a tool. A burning desire to hunt Naktis down caught him by surprise, but he didn't fight the urge.

He simply allowed it to simmer, let it stoke his courage as he began to plan how exactly he would tell Hatter and the King what the Hearts had been planning, and what his own role was to have been.

Naqam would accept any punishment, just so long as Tarian stayed safe.

Just as long as she remained, hope would remain for Wonderland.