"How long have you been here for? Do you like working for Spades? It is true that the Queen drinks twelve cups of tea a day, or is it like, four? Do you get holiday leave? Do you have kids?" Alfred put his face between metal bars and asked the Knight stationed against a wall between his and an empty cell, "Can I have some water?"

The guard clenched his jaw.

"Hey, Arthur said there was going to be rats down here, but I don't see any-"

"That's Queen Arthur to you, peasant!"

Alfred flashed a grin, even though the Knight wouldn't see it. "I'm not just any peasant, you know. I'm a farmer. A farmer," he drawled slowly so the guy would understand. "Look down on me all you want, but farmers are super important. We grow people's food. Do you know how hard it is to try to get some eggs from hens while rabid roosters are trying to claw open your stomach? Chicken claws are sharp! Not that I'm saying we grow eggs. The chickens do all of that, if you didn't know."

No response.

Alfred puckered his face, trying not to beam in such a dank chamber, "Did you see those sexy boots the Queen was wearing? The ones that come up to his thighs? Oh, Gods!" He threw his head back and whooped, echoing, "Woo!"

The guard scrunched his shoulders up, hands balling to fists at his sides.

"Gods!" He repeated, "He could step on me with those, and I wouldn't even mind. Oh, wait, he did-"

"Enough!"

"What? What are you going to do? I'm already in jail. It's not like it can get much worse!" Alfred forced an annoying cackle just for the guard and waltzed to the other end of his cell without waiting for a reply. It was pretty roomy with a metal bed and a lone window with metal bars. Cracks up one wall. No rats. He busted out a lullaby his dad used to sing him and Matthew to sleep, but in an overdramatic, deep and a robust voice, just to get some echoes again.

"Hey!" When that song was done, Alfred wedged his face to the bars again. "What's for dinner?"

The Knight sniveled over his shoulder, "If you keep quiet, perhaps you wouldn't be so hungry and thirsty."

Alfred grumbled and went back to meandering around his chamber. It had only been a few hours. Night came. Dungeons weren't so bad. More boring than he expected. He supposed that was for the prisoners to think about what they had done. He thought about what he done. A lot. Too much.

The door at the top of the steps creaked open. Footsteps. Clank, clank, clank, just another guard. They passed a quick exchange, "It is raining?"

"It's starting to, yes."

They nodded to one another, and the old one that was stationed by Alfred's cell let out a sigh of relief before practically running away.

"Hey," Alfred sauntered across his cell to grip the bars again. "How's the Queen doing?"

Ignored.

"Can I know at least? It's not hurting anybody to know!" Alfred gasped in mock horror, "Oh, no, he knows how the Queen's doing! Gasp!"

The guard cracked his gauntlet against the cage, smashing Alfred's fingers to the bars. Alfred yelped and yanked away. That was a hard hit. He tipped his head, giving his hand a curious shake.

"Geez, you could have just said you have a headache or something." Alfred started to wander his cell again, passing by same old cracks and cobwebs. He picked up his gaze to the window as patters of rain started to drum against the dungeon wall.

Alfred gulped. Maybe all that blabbering did leave his throat a little parched. He pressed against the wall to peek into the world. The landscape was simply a drop-off to the mountainside. He shuddered as goose bumps took a hold of his body, and stuck his arm out until it could not go any further—up to his elbow.

"Oh, come on," Alfred muttered, groping the air, but the overhang above the window stopped him from catching any rain. He wedged himself a bit further, wincing as his arm squeezed against the bars. A dollop of water hit his fingertips. Just a tad more...

Something cracked.

Alfred froze. He wiggled his fingers. Okay, so that was not any of his bones. He tugged, retrieving his arm, but the bars started to creak and bend from the invasion. Caught on a gasp, Al tossed a glance behind himself.

The Knight was not paying attention.

Alfred just bent a metal bar. With his elbow. He backed away from the window.

"Wow, okay," he breathed to himself, "shoddy build, huh?" Glancing back to the window, Alfred decided to tick one day off in his brain and crawled into bed. He put the blanket over his head, blotting out the rain, the crooked bars, and the guard giving him the sourest of all sour side-eyes, hoping for some cheap sleep.

~.~

"I thought tossing someone in the dungeon was supposed to make them suffer. Not us. Not me. I don't get paid to suffer. I get paid to whack people with a stick and throw them in jail!"

"And protect the Queen," a Knight said.

"Yeah, and protect the Queen."

Said Queen stared dully at a wad of paper in his hand, hunched to one side with an elbow being the only thing keeping his head up. Yao stood beside his chair, as always, and pointed to a certain spot on the paper, murmuring too lowly for them to hear.

Another Knight snickered. "That bad?"

"That bad? That bad?! He won't shut up!"

"Oh, that's great. I'm expected to be there next shift. Can't wait."

"I don't get all this fuss over a prisoner," one said. "Why won't we just cut off his tongue? That'll save us the headaches!"

"Enough of that!"

The guards bent together at the central dining table looked toward Yao staring down their messes of plates and napkins.

Arthur cut in, "Yes, enough. I don't want to hear anymore of this."

"What," one of the Knights, "about cutting people's tongues, or about your favorite prisoner...your highness?"

"Both!" Arthur snapped, getting red. "Don't you have anything better to do or talk about?!"

The Knights ducked their heads, snickering amongst themselves and elbowing each other's sides as their Queen flicked his pile of papers before resuming to scowl at whatever they said. He muttered to Yao, "It's all everyone talks about. Even the damned cooks. They could talk about the weather, or the gunk between their toes, but no. It's always about that brainless little...ugh!"

"Yes, your highness?" Yao replied patiently as the Knights rose from the table, guffawing and sauntering away as the maids immediately moved in to clean up their mess.

"I had my sword almost poking him in the bloody eyeball and he smiled at me like nothing! Nothing! Just thinking about...ugh! See?! This is exactly why they should have said nothing. It is as if he is up here with us. I hope he starts rotting in the dungeon and crumbles to dust so everyone would just shut up already!"

"Would you like for me to order the kitchen to end his meal time?"

Arthur seemed to consider this for a moment, before slinging a leg over the other and pouring his hatred on a faraway wall. "He is just a lollygagger. A farmer. A farmer!" His voice shot as he got himself worked up, "Coming in like he owns the place! No!" He slammed his papers on the table. A maid squeaked in fright and scurried away. "I own the place! I'm the Queen! Not him!"

Yao let out a soft sigh, fighting a smile. "So, no tongue removal?"

"Stupid idiot. Who does that? To the Queen? That utter twat was looking for trouble. Still is, running his mouth down there."

"Shall I go down and make sure he gets the message, tongue intact?"

Arthur waved his Jack away, muttering to himself, "Yes, you do...that. I'm getting a headache." To one of the maids, "Get me a chamomile, or something!"

"With lemon, your highness?"

"Yes, with lemon! What sort of question is that?!"

~.~

The dungeon door squawked. Alfred paced around his cell, not idly, but dragging his heels in the cobblestone floor to scrape tracks into it. The guard quickly bowed, and called, "Your Grace!"

Alfred picked up his head.

The Jack of Spades stood before his cell, hands tucked and hidden in his sleeves and a friendly smile on his aged face instead of the usual discontent. "Hello, Alfred. That is your name, correct?"

"Yeah." Alfred almost took a step forward, but decided to hang back awkwardly. "Um...good to see you again, sir? Is there something I can help you with?" He grinned, trying again, "I'll admit it won't be much, but I'll do my best."

"Thank you, Alfred. I'm going to ask you a few questions." Yao said nothing else, so Alfred nodded. A nod back, "Good. How did you get here?"

"When?"

"The most recent time. The gates have been closed and Knights have been stationed at all check points."

"I. Um. Scaled the mountain?"

Yao raised his eyebrows. "You scaled the mountain?"

"Yeah. I just-" Alfred wriggled side-to-side before mimicking a climbing gesture. "You know?"

"West side or east side?"

"Uh, east."

"The extremely steep and sharp-edged, avalanche-prone side?"

"Well, sir, I can't climb up waterfalls."

"That is true. You are every means alive and relatively unscathed. If you were Clubian, I would easily chalk this up to be Lady Luck on your side and a bout of foolish determination." Yao lifted his chin, humming thoughtfully as his gaze strayed somewhere else. Alfred glanced around the cell. Nothing unusual, for a dungeon. "Did you bend those bars? Up there?"

Alfred glimpsed over his shoulder. "Oh, those old things?"

Completely calm, Yao unveiled a hand and waved it in a flourish, "Would you mind bending them back again?"

"Huh? Bend the...those?"

A curt nod. Yao kept smiling. And staring.

Alfred scraped his foot on the ground, not sure what to make of it. "Yeah, sure. I'll try. Heh." He ambled to the wall, and lifted his arms, giving the bars a tug. He furrowed his eyebrows, grunting and trying something different. Metal groaned. He spun around, flashing a grin, "I swear it was easier last time!"

"Really?" Yao seemed into that. He tapped the cell bars in front of himself. "Try these."

"Ha! Seriously? Seriously. You want...you want me to grab those bars, and..."

"Pull them, yes."

"You think I can just pull these things?"

"I think you should try."

"Aren't you afraid I'll bust out?"

"No."

Alfred snorted, and decided to humor the Jack of Spades. It was something to do, after all, and something to think back on, besides the Queen aiming for this throat all the time. He grasped his cell door, and pulled. He winced, yanking again, but it kept solid. "Oh, wow, then, why...?" He glanced to the window.

Yao appraised, "Those weren't just any old, rusty metal. Those were put in recently. They're pure iron, and you managed to pull them apart with your bare hands."

"But I couldn't-"

"However, after a while, it became more difficult to do until you could do it no more."

Alfred lifted his hands and gazed at his palms. They looked the same as they always did.

Yao let out a short hum of amusement as he nodded and turned away. "I will need to look into this."

"Hey, wait!" Alfred gripped the bars and wedged his face into the world, "Where are you going?" Yao kept walking. "Mister Jack-Man! What do you mean?!"

The Knight swung, cracking the hilt of his sword against the bars. Alfred yelped and leaped back, doubling over as he cradled his hand to his chest. "Son of a bitch! Agh! That hurt!" He glared at the guard through watery eyes. "Asshole!"

The guard did not react.

After giving his hand a few experimental shakes, Alfred went to the window and tugged on the metal bars without much luck.

~.~

Yao returned before nightfall. He spooked Alfred, suddenly there in front of his cell and contently gazing at him laying on his bed and kicking his legs in the air. Alfred scrambled to his feet, but the Jack held up a hand for him to relax. A neatly woven blanket draped over his other arm, "Are you entertaining yourself, young man?"

"Well, yeah, there's not much to do in here."

Deadpan, "It's a dungeon. It is supposed to be that way."

Alfred shook his head.

"Maybe..." Yao started carefully, "If you behave yourself, and not give the Knights headaches on top of what they have to deal with, then you might be released early."

"Really?!" Alfred hovered closer to the bars. "Wait, how long do you guys plan on keeping me in here?"

Yao stared blankly. "You came up to the Royal Palace and caused a disturbance. Consider yourself lucky that you weren't executed on the spot for trespassing."

"That's fair."

"It is wise of you to realize your mistakes and accept them." Yao held out the blanket. "Now, here. Take this. The Spadian winter is on its way and the last place anyone would want to be is without something to cover up with."

Alfred gawked at the rosy designs stitched into the fabric and leaned away like those roses had bugs. "Um, sir? I'm in a dungeon. Like, being held prisoner. Why are you giving me a blanket?"

The guard turned his head in their direction, as if to ask the same thing.

Yao did not budge. "Are you going to take it, or not?"

Alfred reached, but stopped. "It doesn't have anything gross on it, does it?"

Grinning, "Not at all. Like the Queen said, we want you alive for as long as possible."

"So the torture is more drawn-out."

"As the Queen says."

Alfred tentatively grasped the blanket. Yao immediately let go and tucked his hands back in his sleeves, watching intently. It was heavy, but soft, and Al slowly brought it closer to himself. The scent of roses came from the knitted fabric, like the floral embedded on it was real. Nothing came out and bit him.

"Um, thanks." When Yao went to turn away, Alfred blurted, "How is he? The Queen?"

"Should you be worrying about that?"

"N-no." Alfred admitted, "I can't help it."

Yao let out a quiet chuckle. "He's stressed. As always is one on a throne for two."

With that, the Jack of Spades turned heel and scuffled away, leaving a dumbfounded Alfred in jail with a cozy blanket.

~.~

The front doors to the Spadian Palace swung open. The Queen rushed forward, taking the place by storm as he left several guards and handmaidens to call after him in worry. Yao straightened from his perch beside the thrones. "Your highness."

Arthur flew by, down a side hall and upstairs, based on the stomps resonating across the tiled floors. The Knights muttered to themselves, lamely grumbling to Yao before finding their way back to their stations. Yao sighed to himself, gesturing for the maids to scram as well before he followed his Queen's tracks.

Another awful King's Meet, by the sound (and looks) of it. Yao stopped by the double doors leading to the master bedroom, listening for a moment to Arthur's furious sobbing, "Stupid, stupid! Damn frog! Dumb kraut! Take your luck and shove it up your arse! Stupid, stupid Kings!"

Yao shook his head and gently rapped a door.

"What?!"

"Your highness."

Arthur groaned, but spoke a little less scathing, "What, Yao?"

Yao opened one of the doors and quietly shut it behind himself. He sighed at the sight of his Queen pulling his legs to his chest, red-faced and teary-eyed in the middle of his bed. "Your highness, may I take a seat?"

Arthur pointedly turned his head away, but with a curt nod. Yao settled on the ottoman by the foot of the grand bed and folded his hands on top of the comforters, waiting for his Queen to speak.

"You already know what happened. What always happens?" Arthur tossed his hands in the air, "I'm so sick of being treated like I'm inferior to them, like I know nothing! I can do anything and everything they can, just as easily and they still...!"

"Yes, your highness. I wish I was there with you today. And the last time." Yao muttered, almost under his breath, "and the time before that."

Arthur kept going, "All because I don't have a King? No, because I sit in for Spades while all the other Queens sit at their little table away from the 'Big Boys' and gossip and drink tea the whole time while those stupid, stupid Kings chew over all the world's problems?! It's not fair! I put out just as much work for my Kingdom. No! More!"

"You do, my Queen."

Arthur warbled some more, drawing his knees to his chest to hide his face.

Yao murmured, "I wish I was there with you, your highness."

"Someone needs to stay behind and watch the palace."

"I have no problem with that. At all," Yao replied calmly. "There just isn't enough of us to go around properly."

"Properly?" Arthur picked up his head, snapping, "Properly, Yao?! What's that mean? I'm doing everything I can to keep this place running smoothly!"

"I can see that. Quite clearly with the amount of constant stress you're under. Do you think that is the best way to do things?"

"Running a Kingdom is stressful."

"It doesn't have to be that stressful."

"No. No, Yao, we talked about this! I'm not getting bound. I'm not getting a King. What, only to be pushed aside and watch him or her mess up everything I have built up for everybody? Absolutely not!"

"If you get the right King, that will not happen! There can be enough of us to be in the right places at the right times! Two of us could go to the meetings, one of us could stay and take charge of the palace, your highness!"

"There is no right one! They're all the same!" Arthur stuck a finger to the side of his temple, "Once that power gets to their head, forget it! No! It's better this way! I'll keep the Kingdom going. By myself."

"What," Yao pressed more sharply, "as stressed and exhausted as you are? It's only going to get worse! The Kingdom needs a King just as much as it needs a Queen." When ignored, he spoke louder, "Soon there won't be either if you keep pushing yourself this way!"

Arthur turned his back on his Jack, snarling to his pillows, "Be gone, Yao! I do not want to hear anymore of this tonight!"

Yao took a deep breath, but let it all out with a shake of the head. He resigned from the bed, and with a little tut as he approached the doors, "Now, I'm not saying a King will solve all your problems. I don't expect that, but they would be much more easier to deal with."

"Yeah," Arthur grumbled, "I won't be having problems because a King would hog them all."

"We'll see."

"Yao."

"I'm leaving!"

"No! Yao!"

Yao turned around.

Arthur patted his bed, "Where's my blanket? The one Granny sewn?"

"Has it been sent to be washed?"

"Wasn't it washed last week?" Arthur scoffed and flapped a hand, putting his backside to Yao one more. "Whatever. Never mind. Leave me be. And...thank you."

Yao sprung a spry grin as he closed the bedroom doors. "Get some rest, your highness."

~.~

It was snowing. The bitter wind flung snowflakes into Alfred's cell. He clutched the stitched blanket closer, huddling in the corner of his bed, and caught the ever-lasting scent of roses yet again. Just a few days ago, they were in bloom. Now, it was snowing. Was it a few days ago? Perhaps it has been weeks. Alfred hoped so; if he waited that long, and it was only mere days, then he would inevitably go insane. He missed Matthew. He wondered if his brother missed him. He better. He missed his favorite stew. He missed the cow back on the farm.

But Alfred wanted to see Arthur again. He had to; he refused to regret his actions. Something better had to come out of it. The Queen was stressed. A docile smile. Even a short laugh. Nothing would be in vain.

The dungeon door creaked open, all creepy-like. It was dark, spare for the only light by the steps illuminating a Knight's silhouette against the wall. Alfred wiggled, planting his feet on the cold ground so he wouldn't look so beaten-down for the guards to sneer. Bad enough he lost like, ten pounds already, getting only one slummy meal a day that they would toss (literally toss) under the door.

Yao. Alfred blinked. He lurched off of the bed and approached the bars, always enticed to his keen eyes. "Hey..."

"Hello, again, Alfred. You look a little worn."

"How..." Alfred smacked his lips. "How long as it been since you were last here?"

"Six days." Yao tipped his head as Alfred stared at the ground. "I assume they were uneventful for you."

Only six days. Six. Days! So, Alfred only had been in there for a little more than two weeks. At this rate, he would not make it to a month. "I'm used to keeping my hands busy at the farm."

"Good." Yao reached in his sleeve. For a second, Alfred thought he was going to produce a key. Nope; just some rocks. He knelt, and rolled one through the bars toward Alfred's boots. "Step on this. Crush it."

Alfred almost complied. "Uh, crush it? You know that's a rock, right? I can't just..." He made a stomping gesture.

"Yes, like that. Go ahead. Crush it."

Alfred glanced around. The usual guard kept his eyes forward. Al put his sole on the stone, rolling it around for a moment before dropping his entire weight. He yelped as the rock crumbled, and lifted his leg to expect the damage.

Yao eagerly pressed another one into his confused hands. "This one, too. Use your hands!"

Alfred clamped his fingers around the stone, and again, it crumbled to the floor. He shook his fingers, watching the dust fall, before looking to Yao with wide eyes.

Yao saw it, too, but appeared much more pleased as he nodded in appraisal. He produced a short, flat piece of metal. "And this."

Alfred decided to comply without more questioning. It was something to do. His nose curled as he put some pressure into this one, and it curved against his fingers with an ugly groan.

"That was a piece of untempered steel. We use that for most of our weapons and building materials." Not angrily at all, "And you just snapped it in half with a twist of your wrist."

"Uh...sorry?"

"There is no need to apologize. You did well." Yao started to turn away.

Alfred dropped the metal piece and tackled the cell bars. "Wait!" The bars groaned and caved to his touch. The Knight leapt from the wall as Yao spun around, eyes bulging out of his head. "I-I didn't mean to do that!" He grabbed the bars again and jerked them back to their original straightness...kind of.

Open mouthed, the guard's hand dropped to his sword. Yao waved him off, "No. It is fine. Stay here for a little longer, Alfred. I'll be down with something warm for you to eat."

"Oh, okay..." Alfred backed away with a small voice. With the guard still gawking, he wandered to his bed and sank into the pathetic mattress. He stared at his hands. The same hands he had his whole life. His eyes flickered to the metal bed frame, and he reached over and ran a fingertip across it. Nothing happened. Alfred pinched the frame between two fingers and squeezed. Hard. The metal slowly caved. "Damn!"

Maybe he could bust free. But...

Yao wouldn't have totally left a now-super-strong prisoner with only one Knight that appeared to have defecated his armor, would he? No. The Jack trusted him, for some reason, to stay put. Maybe he could be pardoned. Finally. He didn't get anywhere with the Queen. Perhaps that was for the best. It was sort of a silly notion that a farmboy could speak with the all-powerful lead of Spades one-on-one, huh?

Prison was making him pessimistic. How typical.

Thump!

Alfred jumped as the Knight crumpled to the ground. Someone should have been wearing a helmet. "I didn't do it!"

Unless he did. With some new mind powers!

A newcomer stepped over the guard's body and stopped before the cage. Okay, it wasn't mind powers on Alfred's part. He gasped and flew to his feet. "Mattie! Gods, you're-"

"I should have known you were in a freaking dungeon. I told you, Al. I told you!"

Alfred ran up to the bars. Matthew adjusted his bow to one arm before poking the other through. "Careful!" Al said, cautiously wounding his arms around his brother. "How did you even get here? Did you climb up the mountain, too?"

Matthew pulled away with a strange look on his face. "Too? What do you mean, too?! No, just the wall. Then I hiked up one of the back pathways. There was a couple of guards, but...I must have been too fast for them."

If his brother didn't cause a huge fuss, the guards probably thought the others closer to the palace would catch and 'take care' of Matthew. It was the only logical explanation. What was logic these days, in crumbled stone and bent iron bars?

"Well? Come on! Who has the keys?"

"What?"

"I'm busting you out of here!"

"Are you kidding?!"

"Of course I'm not kidding! Are you kidding?!" Matthew tucked his hunting bow behind his back and kneeled to rummage around the guard. Alfred's legs jittered from the cold air and his brother sweeping the dungeon, but he came back with nothing. "Uh...looks like we have to break the lock."

Alfred, without a doubt, could do it now, but he clamped a hand on Matthew's wrist as he fiddled with the cage. As long as he didn't squeeze, no bones were broken. "Mattie, no! Don't. You should get out of here."

"Yeah, right. Shut up." Matthew dug in his pocket for whatever. "Hey, give me that piece of metal right by your foot. Maybe we can pick this and-"

"No! Matthew. Seriously. Don't."

"What is with you?! After looking for you for more than a fortnight, I finally find you in the Spadian Royal Dungeon, which you climbed a mountainside to get into, and I had to outrun guards armed to the teeth with spears and swords to get to you, now you're telling me to screw off! No!" Matthew swooped down and snagged the slab of metal when Alfred didn't do anything. "How about you screw off!"

Alfred sighed. He reached through the bars and gripped the hatch. Mathew stumbled backwards as the lock crunched in Alfred's hand, and with a hard pull, it snapped from its hold. Alfred made a show to drop the desecrated clump of metal at his brother's feet.

"Um...did you just do that, or am I seeing things? It's probably the high altitude or something-"

"I can't go right now, Matthew. I just got these...this super strength stuff and I think the only way I'm going to get answers is if I stay here. So, please go. Before you get thrown in here, too. Or worse!"

"No!"

"Matthew!"

"I'm not going back to the farm without you."

"Yes, you are!"

"Don't tell me what to do, Alfred! If you're staying..." Matthew clenched his jaw, unleashing a long exhale. More calmly, "I'm staying, too! I outran several highly trained Knights this morning. You can't do that off of vegetable stew alone." He shook his head as Alfred pursed his lips. "Something's strange around here. The Spadian Palace. I wonder if it does something to people-"

"It's the Queen."

The brothers jumped. Yao stopped in his tracks as an arrow readied toward his face in a heartbeat. He raised his eyebrows, granting, "Indeed you're fast." His eyes drooped to the guard on the floor. "Interesting."

Alfred sucked air between his teeth, jabbing a finger at Matthew's weapon. "Um, Mattie? That's, um, you're pointing a bow at the—at the Jack of Spades."

Yao asked, as if there were not a sharp metal tip aimed at his eyeball, "What do you hunt?"

Matthew flexed a couple of fingers against the parachute string. Alfred clamped his teeth over his nails. "Little bit of everything. Elk. Fowl. I even shot a crow out of the sky once. B-because you asked, sir. Not that I was bragging."

Yao slowly lifted his free hand (the other carried some kind of ceramic container), and set on top of the tip of the readied arrow. Matthew eased, lowering his weapon. Alfred tossed his head back in relief as his brother asked, "You said something about the Queen giving people powers. How does that even work? Alfred's in jail, why would he-"

"Not just anyone," Yao said, "and not that the Queen does this consciously."

The brothers exchanged a long look. Matthew decided it was a good idea to put his bow and arrow away.

"It's an exchange of power amongst the Royals. In all of the Kingdoms, don't you boys know? The Queen gives off power. The Kings amplify it. The Jacks see and detect this...these pulses of power. It's how we find new Kings and Queens."

"Oh, cool," Alfred murmured. "That's...cool, I guess? Right?"

Yao smiled to himself and shook his head. "Only certain people can be a part of this. The Spadian Suit, for example, has strength unknown like any other. However, not everyone can be a King. Countless of formal gatherings, parties, random encounters, I have been through them all for years with Queen Arthur, waiting for someone to claim his side. If anybody would take those sparks and ignite, and boom! We would have a King!"

Matthew took a step back as the Jack spread his hands in the air.

Yao decided to put that container of soup on a table somewhere, and tucked himself back into his sleeves. Alfred's stomach grumbled. "Nobody came. Nobody. Until you. A farmboy. No wonder you never showed up. How could you, a peasant to the Queen?"

Alfred stopped breathing five seconds ago. "Uh, what?"

Yao neared the bars, studying Alfred's wide-eyed gaze. "You climbed the entire side of the mountain with...presumably your bare hands. Bent the bars to the cage. You're something else, young man." Alfred gaped and his mouth moved to say something, but nothing came out. Yao continued, "It doesn't stop there. I thought I felt something from you, with the Queen, but I had to make sure. The blanket. The Queen's favorite. It has him all over it. You got something from it. Of course you did. You would make your hands bleed to be at the palace, yet not a drop of blood. Nobody can resist fate."

Alfred had to step away. He let out uneasy laughter, honestly spooked from the Jack's ominous whispering. "Are you okay?"

"Yes. I'm fine. Are you?"

"Uh..."

"Al," Matthew blinked at his brother like a fool. "I think he's saying you're a King."

"Ha! What! That's...oh, wow! That's funny! Yeah, that's why you guys threw me in jail!"

Yao scoffed, and pointed to the clump of metal on the floor, "Can non-Kingly people grab a lock like that and crumble it into a ball like it's a piece of paper?"

Alfred stared at the lock.

"Why did you come here in the first place, then?! I should go in there and smack your head against the wall a few times!"

The twins simultaneously stepped away from the Jack.

Going on some more, "You climbed a damn side of a mountain and busted in here just to lay an eye on the Queen! You blabber and blabber and never shut up and give the guards headaches because he's all you talk about, but now? I'm telling you that you have a place by his side for the rest of your lives, and you laugh? Has everything up to this point been a joke to you?!"

"No!" Alfred squeaked before the Jack's might, "but Arthur literally stepped on me! He almost jabbed my eye out with a sword! It wasn't all out of love, either!"

Matthew shrugged, "I almost shot the Jack of Spades with an arrow, and I barely just met him."

Yao nodded. "You are forgiven."

Matthew grinned.

Alfred gripped the bars in dramatic effect, "You think he's going to be like, 'Oh! You found a King! Delightful! Sorry about calling you an idiot-peasant and screeching in your face.'"

"That is just the way Arthur is. He does that to everybody."

"He's going to throw us all in the dungeon if we tell him that!"

Yao closed his eyes, sighing. "Are you fine with being a King, Alfred?"

"A King?!" Alfred balked. "I...! I've never been a King before. I don't know what to do! It doesn't sound so bad, but-"

"So, you would, after accepting your fate, ascend to the throne, by the Queen's side?"

Alfred locked on his brother's obvious surprise. "The farm and everything..."

Matthew let out a short laugh as Yao looked to him, too. "Al, you would be a King. That's the honor of twenty lifetimes. The King! Of Spades! A whole Kingdom! You think you're so strong now? Imagine what you could do as King. Imagine all the stuff we talked about, how to help the Kingdom, all these people...you could finally do something about that!"

Alfred turned to Yao. "Both of you think so? I-I don't know the first step to being a King! I chase chickens around for a living!"

"That is why you will learn. We will teach you, sire."

The winter wind filtering through the window dusted Alfred's skin with goose bumps. Himself, sitting beside the Queen. Taking the Kingdom's stresses so he didn't have to all by himself. Doing anything he wanted, and with nothing standing in his way. No money problems, no older folks shunning his dreams, no Knights cracking his fingers with their freaking swords. Alfred's heart lurched. "Oh, Gods," he whispered to himself. "That would be me."

"It will be you." Yao grinned as he peeled open the cell door. "Why don't you step out, future-King? You are long overdue." To Matthew, "I believe, be it by blood or you're in the Cards' favor, you may be something of interest, as well."

Matthew threw his arms around Alfred, and he caught the scent of home. Alfred unleashed a chuckle of disbelief against his brother, "Oh, my Gods! Wow! No way. This isn't happening. Not to us."

"I-I think it is. To us." Matthew said more excitedly, "To us!"

Alfred laughed in disbelief as they shook each other's hands up and down. "Really? Really! Well, we got to convince Arthur all of that. Think it'll be a little easier said than done."

Pulling away, Matthew appraised with a soft smile, "Aw, come on, Al. You can do it. You never know how to give up, after all."

"Hey. What's that supposed to mean?"

To Yao, Matthew shrugged a shoulder, "I heard of the Queen's...the Queen being prone to..."

Alfred guessed, "Stepping on people?"

"Hot-headedness. If you don't mind me saying that."

Yao gestured that all was fine. "I do not."

Matthew asked, "How are we going to diplomatically sit him down and make him hear us out?"

Alfred blundered over whatever Yao was going to say, "Tie him to a chair! And gag him so he can't argue!"

"That, my future-King," Yao noted with a tight smile, "is an example of not being diplomatic."

"What's your idea, then?"

"Ah, see? It is a good thing to listen to what I have to say. You learn fast. Come here, you two. He won't like his one, but..."