On the last evening of his trial, Naqam found Hatter sitting on the front steps, his back leaning against one of the logs holding up the roof over the porch, braiding strips of leather together. For a long time, he stood watching the scarred, sun-aged fingers twist and loop the leather together. He wondered what Hatter was making.

The events of his second morning in this sheltered place had been gnawing at his mind the whole time, leaving no second for peace or planning as Naqam performed the several tasks Hatter had allocated to him over the five days he'd been in this place. The idea that Hatter had been watching him without the Ace's knowledge was extremely perturbing.

"Sit down. You're making me nervous," Hatter said around the piece of straw he was worrying at with his teeth.

Naqam blinked slowly, then started to sink into the grass, grimacing at the damp earth. It had rained earlier that afternoon, and he had already had to change his clothes once after getting drenched helping Hatter get some of the younger, more delicate animals into the barn.

Hatter snorted and stopped working on his project to gesture at the step next to him. Naqam frowned, and Hatter sighed. Pointing more authoritatively, he said, "Sit."

Naqam's lip curled and Hatter grinned before turning his attention back to whatever he was making. He sat cautiously on the other side of the stairs, copying Hatter by leaning back against one of the logs.

The last few days had been the most baffling, infuriating days of Naqam's entire existence. Hatter had set him to work mending fences, moving the horses in and out at night and in the mornings and a dozen other things that had occupied his hands, but rarely his mind.

Eventually though, he had fallen into the rhythm of work that the Real Worlder had set.

And what a rhythm it was. The man was practically tireless, not going to bed until the sun was well below the horizon and waking up before the sun had raised its own head. There seemed to be a never ending litany of tasks he accomplished himself, or took the time to show Naqam how to accomplish.

He would never admit it, but there had eventually been something rather satisfying in the completion of the simple tasks he had been given.

The motion of Hatter twisting and knotting the leather hypnotized Naqam, and he stared at whatever it was he was making, captured by the swift, intricate movements.

The Ace still had no idea if he was any closer to getting inside Spade Castle.

He startled a little when Hatter took the piece of straw out of his mouth and flicked it into the grass. The Real Worlder sighed, rolling his neck a little before he said, "Why do you think Killian sent you with me?"

Naqam was shocked by the question. Hatter tended to speak in monosyllables, if he spoke at all, and Naqam hadn't heard more than five full sentences from the man since those first two days. So when Hatter raised an eyebrow at the Ace's silence, he blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

"Because he thinks you could kill me if I was a threat to his family."

"And what do you think about that?" Hatter asked, sounding almost amused as he took a second to study the braid. He shook his head at some tiny imperfection Naqam couldn't make out, and undid a section of it.

His memory flashed unpleasantly to nearly getting shot in the barn, and he held his silence. Lying seemed unwise, but pride held his tongue.

Still, Hatter nodded like he'd said something. He turned to look at Naqam, whose eyes were drawn to a thin white scar along the length of his left cheekbone. Part of him wanted to ask what had happened.

The other reminded him that he didn't care.

Hatter took a second to stretch out his fingers, then said, "If Killian had wanted you dead, they'd be mopping your blood up off the floor of the throne room. He could have gunned you down there and then. He didn't. Now why do you suppose he went and did such a damn fool thing as that?"

Now Naqam looked at him in shock. For a split second, he couldn't believe that Hatter was actually, physically able to speak of his King in such a way. Then he caught a shimmer of green and reminded himself that Killian wasn't really Hatter's King.

Briefly, he wondered what it would be like to be so free. Completely and utterly independent. He shook his head, brushing the thoughts away. Promptly, he decided that it would be stressful to be so constantly responsible for yourself and the consequences of your actions.

He got himself to believe that he preferred being not much more than a weapon to wield.

Cautiously, weighing his words carefully, he said, "Because Killian wants to be fair."

This earned a look of evaluation from Hatter. Not one of surprise, but one of evaluation. Again, Naqam had the odd sensation that he was being weighed and measured by a man he didn't even know, and that the man in question could see into his very soul.

He didn't dare lower his gaze. That would seem weak, and if Naqam had learned anything, it was that a man like Hatter had no time or patience for weakness.

"Now where would you go and get an idea like that?" Hatter asked, turning once more to his project.

Naqam chewed on his lip, making a small sound of surprise when one of his slightly exaggerated canines poked a hole in his lip. The copper taste teased at his tongue and he grimaced, making a bead of blood spill over the edge of his lip and trickle down his chin.

He went to wipe it off, but his attention was caught by the intense stare of Hatter. His eyes had glued themselves to Naqam's mouth and his face had taken on a sort of tightness that made it look like he was wearing a mask. A shadow seemed to pass behind his eyes.

Self-consciously now, Naqam wiped away the blood, and Hatter blinked, obviously snapped back to the present. Slowly, Naqam answered, "I read a book once."

Now Hatter grimaced, taking Naqam by surprise. With a roll of his eyes, he said, "The one Alice wrote."

"How did you..." The question trailed off. There was no point in asking. Hatter consistently seemed to know more than he should.

The grimace turned into an indulgent smile, though, not one meant for Naqam, and Hatter said, "You're not wrong, kid. But that doesn't quite cover it."

Naqam opened his mouth, then shut it, frowning. He didn't understand what Hatter was trying to get at here. What was worse was that Hatter seemed to grasp that fact immediately.

He took his hat off, looking for a long moment over the valley spread out before him. He frowned, appearing lost in thought, and Naqam copied him. The sun threw spears of light down over the thick grass, trying to battle through the clouds dragging it steadily toward the horizon.

Horses grazed and frollicked in their paddocks. The sound of birds echoed through the air, the wind sighing through the trees. The air was sweet here, and cool, everything green and peaceful.

"Killian doesn't want to be fair. He just is." Hatter turned his attention back to the braid. "As much as he might not want to admit it, he would sleep easier at night if he knew you were locked up tight somewhere."

"So what stopped him from doing that?" Naqam asked. He bristled at the very idea, which had the added benefit of reminding him why he wanted so badly to get out of this secluded place and back to the castle.

"Me."

The simple answer shocked Naqam. If his eyes got any wider, he was sure they'd pop out of his skull. Blankly, he said, "What?"

"You heard me," Hatter said, sounding slightly amused.

"But I don't understand," he admitted, his tone surlier than he'd intended.

It didn't seem to upset Hatter, though. If anything, he grew more amused, and Naqam wondered what it would take to ruffle his feathers. 

He got the answer sooner than he expected.

"What you have to understand here is...is..." Hatter trailed off, his fingers growing still. Naqam followed his gaze to find a distant rider coming onto the property.

Hatter inhaled deeply, just to breath out a curse. Giving Naqam a side-eye, he said, "A day early."

Naqam stood, but Hatter just turned back to his project, his shoulders tightening. The rider was astride a horse the color of the grey clouds above. Sunlight flickered off a flag of silken black hair and Naqam suddenly realized who this interloper was.

Really there were only four people who would have dared trespass on this place, lest they incur the wrath of its guardian.

Lady Adira urged the horse into a gallop. Hatter muttered under his breath one more time, then put his hat back on and stood up. He walked out to the middle of the grass, then stood with his arms crossed.

He didn't flinch when Lady Adira barely reined the horse in at the last second, its hindquarters nearly touching the slick grass as it skidded to a halt. The horse snorted and tossed its head.

Hatter looked up at the Jack, frowning slightly. He grabbed the horse's reins next to its mouth and stroked a hand down its neck, instantly calming it. "You're early."

"It's good to see you too, Mad," Adira said primly. She dusted a gloved hand over her spotless black shirt, which hugged her torso. The curve of her waist led Naqam's eye down the length of her black clad leg, the cloth snug there as well.

He couldn't particularly remember ever meeting someone who was so fiercely beautiful. Her maroon lips and elegant body were just as much a weapon as the gun on her hip.

Naqam frowned, blinking himself out of that train of thought. She was from a Black Deck. She couldn't be that pretty.

"I'm not finished with him," Hatter tried again, and there was an underlying tenseness in his tone that the Ace didn't quite understand.

He shrugged it off, realizing it was just one of many things he didn't — and most likely wouldn't — understand about Hatter.

Adira raised a dark brow at him, then wiggled around in the saddle until both legs were on one side of the horse. She extended a graceful arm toward Hatter and said, "Help a lady down, won't you?"

Hatter gave her a droll look that said clearly that he knew she didn't need any help. Now she raised both eyebrows at him, her smile wavering ever so slightly. The Real Worlder's mouth pressed into a line, but he stepped forward. Reaching up, he placed a hand on either side of Adira's slim waist, her hands resting on his shoulders as he helped her down to the ground.

With a laugh like bells, Adira hugged him, kissing his cheek. Hatter tensed again, but gave her a small, genuine smile. He stepped back, glancing at Naqam. His smile turned to a scowl and Naqam looked away, toward the direction Lady Adira had come from.

He desperately wanted to ask why she was here; wanted to know if the King had changed his mind.

Hatter grabbed the reins of the horse, then turned to Naqam. "Take her to the barn, brush her down and put her in that stall near the doors. Give her some oats and water her."

Naqam opened his mouth to protest, then glanced sideways at Lady Adira, whose dark eyes watched him keenly. Swallowing his urge to argue, he nodded and gently took the reins out of Hatter's hand.

He made a point to stroke a hand down the mare's neck, but she snorted and bobbed her head, almost yanking away from him. Naqam scowled, then sighed at the hard look this garnered from both Hatter and Lady Adira.

Getting a tighter grip on the reins, he started murmuring under his breath, trying to appear relaxed. The horse tossed its head once more, shaking its silvery mane, but didn't balk when Naqam started leading it towards the barn to carry out Hatter's instructions.

Over the light breeze, he heard Hatter say, "You are a day early, Addy. I wasn't done talking to him."

"Killi was impatient. He's always impatient lately. Ever since—"

"Yeah. I know," Hatter cut her off. "You'll still have to wait until tomorrow."

Naqam's heart fluttered a little uneasily at that. If he really had passed Hatter's test, then what did it matter if he left one day early.

He had the dreadful thought that he hadn't been able to pull of his little act. That Hatter was going to kill him here and now, with Lady Adira standing witness. Or worse, that he'd drag him back to the Hearts.

"That's what I told him, Mad," Adira sighed.

There was a long silence, and Naqam thought he had moved too far away to hear them. Then, Hatter asked, "Are you staying tonight, then?"

"Am I welcome?"

The question surprised him so much, he very nearly turned around to gawk at the two of them. He shook his head minutely, forcing himself to keep walking to keep them from suspecting that he was eavesdropping.

Maybe they're not quite the solid front they present to the world, Naqam thought. A small smile played at the edges of his mouth. If there was some kind of rift between Hatter and the others, perhaps he could use that to his advantage.

Hatter's deep voice carried better on the air as he said, "You always have been, Addy. You know that."

Naqam could make out the fact that she was saying something, but the soprano tone of her voice allowed the wind to obscure her words.

The Ace risked peeking over his shoulder to find the Jack standing right in front of Hatter, with him looking down at her gravely. Then, Naqam had to turn away to open the barn door.

Turning to shut it, allowing himself to take his time with the heavy door, he frowned when Adira placed her hand on his arm, her actions plaintive. Like she was asking him something important.

He couldn't see her face, but he could imagine the intenisty of her dark eyes. Remembering her less than charitable attitude toward him when he had showed up at Spade Castle, Naqam had the uneasy feeling that she was asking Mad to tell King Killian that Naqam was not to be trusted.

He itched to run back and rid himself of this infuriating woman, eyes narrowing as he watched her satin sheet of midnight hair ripple in the breeze, swaying gently down her back.

Suddenly, Hatter's gaze snapped up to Naqam.

Eyes widening, he quickly slammed the door shut, busying himself with taking care of the horse Adira had ridden in on.

All he could do was wait.