#Bad Ash 4 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

carewyncromwell · 1 year ago

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"Started out on a one-way train -- Always knew where I was gonna go next -- Didn't know until I saw your face I was missin' out on every moment..."

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HPHM Cardverse developed by @ariparri // read more about "the Counselor" Duncan Ashe here! // See Jacob as Duncan's Right-Hand Man // credit for the new and improved physics lecture goes to @ag907!! Thank you, sweetie!! 💚

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It wasn't a surprise to much of anyone when Duncan Ashe became the Jack of Spades. He had become a well-respected member of the previous Jack's court even while still at university, and even throughout his schooling, he was known for being both incredibly driven and ambitious. Even if yes, he also became a bit of a rulebreaker upon befriending Coby McQuaid, his strong work ethic and cleverness were never to be questioned. Combine this with a good sense of dress, and most would agree the young man embodied the part of someone who would easily climb the social ladder.

Duncan Ashe knew where he was going. He was going to be successful, and he was going to do it by beating out all of his competition both academically and in life overall. And that is why he took on the responsibility of working under the Jack of Spades, Ulrich Scheller, while also being a full-time student at the University of Spades. It did result in a lack of sleep, sure, and it did make it so he often had to finish homework in strange locations, such as in the middle of press conferences and against the wall of his dormroom while he got dressed in the morning...but it would all be worth it, in the end. Even if he had to finish up complex physics assignments while sitting on the way-too-full trolley heading out of the capitol, Duncan shrugged it off and just kept going.

Or, at least, he did, when he didn't have random strangers standing next to him on the trolley distracting him.

"Physics, huh? That's fun."

Duncan looked up.

Standing over him was a modestly-sized, rather messily-dressed young man about his age with curly dark hair, carrying a beat-up old leather bag at his side. Unlike Duncan, who was dressed in a well-tailored vest and slacks, this person was dressed for hard labor, with his pants tucked into a pair of scuffed-up black boots and faded oil and grease stains on his long-sleeved linen shirt. Even the muscles outlined under his long sleeves were a good indicator that this person was more of a "blue collar" sort than Duncan was.

"What's this? Fourier transforms?" the young man pointed a grubby finger to Duncan’s homework assignment.

Completely taken aback and lost for words, Duncan nodded yes.

"Oh, that's fun!" the stranger said brightly. His almond-shaped blue eyes were very bright as he examined the homework Duncan had in his lap. "You've gotten your sines and cosines mixed up, though -- I think that's what's holding you up on the second one. See, the integral of cosine is sine, not the other way around. Oh, and the answer is supposed to be negative -- we don't use absolute value here. Personally I've always preferred Laplace transforms over Fourier, but they aren't as applicable in physics. The only reason Laplace transforms really took off at all was because of that one fascist prat in Hearts who studied them a long while back -- forgot his name, I'll have to ask Mum -- but even if he was a creep in his politics, he did bring Laplace transforms into the modern era. Reckon people would've had to develop an entirely different way to solve higher order differential equations without them..."

For a moment, all Duncan could do was blink blankly. Finally, like a rubber band, Duncan's surprise and utter disbelief snapped back into defensiveness. He slapped his arms roughly over his work to cover it.

"All right!" he said, his face flushed a bit despite himself. "You've -- you've certainly made your point..."

Duncan couldn't help but goggle a bit.

"Are you a math major or something?" he asked. His black eyes lingered on the boy's dirty shirt and toned arms. Surely not -- any self-respecting university student would have to dress better than this --

The young man, though, only grinned. "Nah, no university for me. I didn't even finish high school."

Duncan's mouth fell open. "You didn't even finish -- ?"

You have got to be kidding me. Some high school drop-out is standing here giving me a lecture about how to do my physics homework?

"Well, the schools up north aren't the greatest -- after a while, I just kind of got fed up," said Jacob. "Plus it's not like getting straight A's or gold stars is any actual indication of intelligence -- it's really more indicative of how well you can jump through hoops, and well, even dumb animals in a circus can do that..."

Duncan flushed, offended.

"And yet those 'dumb animals' could do it, while you couldn't," he said sharply.

"Guess I just like applying my brain to more useful activities," the young man said with a shrug.

"Like fixing mechanical horses and streetcars, I suppose?" Duncan said very dryly, shooting another condescending look at the oil stains on the man's collar.

"Sure," the young man said brightly, not sounding the least bit offended. "Though that's only Mondays and Wednesdays -- got Pik's on Tuesday and Thursday and the library on Fridays..."

He abruptly looked up through the window with slight surprise.

"...Hey, don't you get off here? This is the university."

Duncan realized with a start that the trolley was driving on, passing the university.

With a bolt of panic, he shot up out of his seat, his papers spilling out over the floor so he could get up and pull the string.

"Stop! Stop the trolley!"

The trolley came to a screeching halt. Grumbling in anxiety under his breath, Duncan quickly stuffed his papers into his briefcase and then hurriedly stumbled off the car and off to class.

It wasn't until Duncan took a catalogue of all of his paperwork at home that night that he realized he was missing one page of the physics assignment he'd been working on. He grumbled sourly to Coby about it and the stupid guy on the trolley that made it so he'd now have to do the work all over again for close to a hour, before finally giving up and turning in for the night. He'd just have to work on it tomorrow.

You can imagine Duncan's surprise, therefore, when the following morning, the trolley driver actually handed Duncan a piece of paper after he paid her for the ride as usual.

"Jacob wanted me to give this to you, if I saw you," she said with a wry smile. "He worked on it for the rest of his trolley ride home yesterday -- he saw the due date was in three days, so he hoped I could get it to you before then."

Duncan stared. The page was covered with equations, all scrawled in exquisite detail despite the messiness of the writing.

The stranger who had to be named "Jacob" had finished not only the problem Duncan had been struggling with, but all of them.

~*~

Duncan didn't collide with Jacob again the rest of that week. His hours at Pik's (which turned out to be a tavern -- Coby had heard of it, even if Duncan hadn't) seemed to start very early in the morning, way before Duncan was even out of bed, and whatever library Jacob was assigned to, it must not have been on the route the trolley took into the capitol. Even on the weekend, Jacob was nowhere to be found -- likely taking some well-earned time off at home, Duncan presumed. And so the university student didn't have any potential chance to follow up with Jacob about him having done his work for him until the following week, after Duncan got the assignment back. And when Duncan did see Jacob again, it wasn't on his afternoon trolley ride south to the university -- it was through the trolley's window.

That Monday, Duncan's entire day had gotten off to a terrible start when the trolley's doors had gotten stuck in a half-open position, making it unable to run. As fate would have it, though, Jacob had been at the following stop, and upon being tipped off to the trolley's problem, he ran several blocks up to go help. Soon he'd rolled up his long sleeves and taken a toolkit out of his worn brown bag and immediately set about taking the door apart to fix it.

Duncan looked through the window, tilting his head to try to get a better look at what Jacob was doing.

The curly-haired young man had completely removed the door from the trolley and was now cleaning the interior, scraping out the gunk on the inside and lubricating the rusted hinges with oil. His muscles -- exposed by his rolled-up sleeves -- bulged slightly as he hoisted the door into place and held it there with one arm while screwing the hinge back on with his free hand. His bicep flexed while holding the heavy door, making veins pulse to life through his pale skin.

He was strong.

Duncan caught himself staring and mentally slapped himself. Good thing too, because the very next moment Jacob looked up and caught Duncan's eye through the window.

Jacob blinked, his blue eyes widening just a bit. Then they lit up and he gave a happy little nod, unable to wave due to his hands being full.

"Hey, Ashe!" he greeted.

Duncan was taken aback. "...You know my name?"

"The driver told me," said Jacob. "At least she said she thought that was your name...she caught a glimpse of your student ID once, and she thought it said 'Ashe.' And she reckoned you kind of looked like the rest of the Ashe family -- not that I'd know, never much been anywhere downtown..."

Duncan's lips came together just a bit. He'd never been very close to his family -- his father in particular -- so the reminder that people could see any physical resemblance wasn't particularly cheery.

"The name's Duncan Ashe," he said briskly. "And you would be Jacob, right?"

"Right! Jacob Cromwell," the curly-haired man responded offhandedly.

Duncan raised his eyebrows. "Cromwell? As in the Diamond Empire jewelers?"

Jacob's eyes flashed with dislike. "They're my mum's family. But we don't talk to those prats."

Duncan felt a pang of empathy, thinking of his own family. Something a bit more serious then flickered through Jacob's expression.

"...Were you able to turn in that assignment on time?" Jacob asked. "I hoped you hadn't gotten through it all a second time, by the time you got it back."

Duncan felt his cheeks actually darken with a light flush.

"Oh, ah...yes, I was," he said. He averted his eyes. "I did have to write it out again myself so it'd be in my handwriting, but...what you did was...helpful."

If by "helpful," he meant getting the highest marks he'd gotten in physics class so far.

Jacob gave something of a weak smile. "...Well, I'm sorry you had to write it again -- I'd finished it so you wouldn't have to..."

"Well, yeah, but it wasn't in my handwriting, so someone would've known it wasn't mine, if I'd turned it in that way," Duncan blustered. "Anyway, it...doesn't really matter, it did save me a lot of time, not having to do the math myself. Though I am still a little confused about how you knew how to do it, when you said you never even finished high school."

"I read books in the mathematics section of the library sometimes, during the slower hours," Jacob said with an offhand shrug.

Duncan blinked in surprise.

"You learned all that just from reading library books?" he asked. The courtier couldn't help but be impressed.

"Sure," said Jacob leisurely. "Once you get the theory down, all it really takes is putting it into practice. I just finished up the last of the books on number theory," he added almost as an afterthought. "About a third done with the history section too. Though the science section is actually my favorite to explore -- I recently checked out a book on the biochemistry of various viruses, and it's fascinating. It astounds me that the court of Spades hasn't pushed for using the principle of reverse genetics to develop new vaccines..."

Jacob finally finished screwing the door back into place and, with a bounce in his step, straightened up.

"Go ahead and give it a try now!" he told the trolley driver.

The driver did, and with a ding, the door closed and then opened again like a charm.

Everyone on the trolley burst into applause as Jacob and the other people waiting to board outside all climbed aboard. Several even gave Jacob hearty slaps to the back.

"Thank you so much," the driver said, his blanched face curled up in a weak, relieved smile. "I don't know how I'll ever thank you -- "

"Sounds to me like you just did," Jacob said with a rather handsome smile.

"I've got to at least pay you for your work -- how about -- ?"

"Don't worry about it," said Jacob flippantly.

Without even seeming to notice the driver's attempt to protest, he slid a few coins into the slot by the door to pay for his ride and strolled into the trolley. He sidled into the open seat next to Duncan, grinning broadly. Duncan cocked his eyebrows at the shorter man.

"You could've at the very least accepted a free ride," the well-dressed student pointed out dryly. "The driver was clearly trying to offer it to you."

Then maybe you could save up for some halfway decent clothes, he couldn't help but add to himself, eying Jacob's outfit. It was the exact same one he'd seen him in before, though with perhaps one or two more grease stains.

Jacob blinked. "Really? Huh..."

He shrugged this off very easily, though.

"Oh, well -- I can pay for it, so I may as well. Wasn't doing it for pay in the first place, after all."

Did this guy seriously just shrug off the fact that he could've saved some money when his boots looked like they were a few steps removed from second-hand? Duncan raised his eyebrows.

"Just because you benefited from the trolley being fixed doesn't mean you didn't earn some reward for what you did."

"Oh, I know, but..." Jacob shrugged. "I honestly wasn't even thinking of my own commute, right then. I just knew the driver was having trouble, and I was pretty sure I could help, so I wanted to try. I like solving people's problems," he added with another grin.

Duncan considered Jacob for a moment. It was so strange, how someone who could talk so much about absolutely nothing could come across as so...innocent, in a strange way. So sincere and generous, while also being so clueless about other people's feelings and social cues...

Jacob was a strange person. A strange person, but...interesting.

Little by little, Duncan actually found himself smiling too, though much more wryly.

"...Hm."

Jacob turned his focus to the window as the trolley began to move. Duncan and he fell into a contented silence, which was broken when Duncan initiated conversation again.

"...Which library do you work at?"

"The one uptown, near the museum!" Jacob said with a grin. "My mum recently became a curator there...we generally walk home together those days, so we can pick up Wyn from school on the way. Anyhow, Mum's the most smashing curator -- never been great around lots of people, but she's so smart...she outclasses everyone else there, easily. One day she told me about this new exhibit she's been helping with on the history and short-lived reign of the Knave of Hearts -- bloody as all get out, mind you, but brilliant..."

Before long, Jacob had gone on a long tangent about the history behind the Knave of Hearts's reign and the boom in technological advancements that cropped up in the rest of Cinderhaven in response to refugees fleeing the Kingdom of Hearts. Duncan was having trouble following all of it, but Jacob's passion was remarkable enough to sit through -- it was like sitting beside a raging fire just to enjoy its warmth. And in those times when Duncan found himself on the same wavelength as Jacob, he found a strange excitement pulsing through him as well.

"...And well, out of that, we got new tanks, models of mechanical horses, gas stoves -- even our modern streetcars," said Jacob. "All that, just from immigrants coming here, to explore greater opportunities."

Duncan nodded. "I've put in several proposals to the Jack of Spades, for just that reason."

Not that he's willing to do anything the least bit differently than how they've always been done, he thought dully.

"There's so much potential for growth, if we just invest in projects at home. And if Spades invested more in developing those technologies used for transportation, then it could even encourage other technologically sharp minds in other parts of Cinderhaven to settle here."

Jacob beamed. "Oh, for sure! But you know, I reckon that's only one component, the improving of our transportation methods. It's also about the fuel we use."

"Finding a way to increase coal production to meet demand, you mean?" asked Duncan.

"Yeah, sort of -- but to increase production, we'd also have to make improvements on how it's done," Jacob pointed out. "Coal is smashing and all, but it's still a toxic substance. Prolonged exposure runs the risk of kidney damage, lung damage, heart damage...even it just being too close to running water has proved dangerous. Not to mention coal mines are ridiculously unsafe."

Duncan nodded grimly. The Jack of Spades had received several reports about that, though he'd sort of treated it as "par the course," for such "unskilled" labor.

"So you think the first step would be improving conditions for those coal miners," Duncan surmised.

"Right!" said Jacob. "And well, it wouldn't be too hard! We already have windowed submarines that help us breathe and travel safely underwater...all we'd really need is a way to adapt that concept for use in mines! Some sort of a submarine suit, for use underground instead of underwater...oh!"

The curly-haired man abruptly shot to his feet and grabbed the string, tugging down on it sharply to tell the trolley to stop. Duncan looked up, startled, as the trolley came to a stop right outside the university.

"Didn't want you to miss your stop," said Jacob with a slightly cheeky smile.

"I suppose it is the least you can do," Duncan said coolly, "considering you almost made me miss my stop for a second time."

He got to his feet and headed for the trolley door. In the door frame, though, he paused, and he glanced back at Jacob.

"...You work at Pik's Tavern, right?" he asked.

Jacob blinked. "Yeah -- Tuesdays and Thursdays."

Duncan's lips curled up into a very small smirk. "I'll try to pop in sometime. I could use a place to eat with a good discount...that is, if knowing a guy there would put me in good standing?"

Jacob beamed so brightly that his blue eyes actually sparkled a bit.

"10% off your order, if you ask for me by name!" he said brightly.

Duncan's smirk broadened a bit. "10%? That's not bad. All right -- tomorrow morning, then, before I head into work."

"It's a date, then!" Jacob called back, as Duncan finally climbed off the trolley.

Once he'd stepped off, Duncan found his eyes darting up to the trolley as it closed its doors and drove off. He also found his heart beating just that little bit faster and his cheeks flushing as he brought a hand through his hair, looking away again quickly.

A date, then, he recurred Jacob's offhand remark in his own head. Duncan tried to push the memory down, even as it made his lips spread into an amused smile.

Obviously he'd never date an idiot like Jacob Cromwell...but talking with him some more would be fun. It'd be like spending time with Coby, back in grade school -- except with someone who couldn't read social cues and went on ridiculous, rambling tangents about absolutely nothing...

But it could be fun. Listening to Jacob get carried away by his own passions and getting a bit swept up in them himself for a while...that could be fun.

~*~

That day Duncan ended up bringing up the idea of applying reverse genetics to future vaccinations during a meeting with the Jack of Spades and his other courtiers. It was an idea that prompted an muted nod of approval from the Jack, as well as a few side-long glances from the other courtiers that made it clear they wished they'd proposed the idea.

Jacob would've probably been blissfully unaware of those envious looks, Duncan thought to himself in amusement. He probably would've also gone a whirlwind tangent about how to apply the same vaccination principles to the farming of produce or something.

~*~

When Duncan visited Pik's Tavern the following morning, he wasn't served by Jacob, as he'd expected -- instead, after eating one of the best breakfasts he'd had in his life, Duncan found a scrawled note on the receipt his female server had brought him.

10% off, as promised! Hope I cooked the eggs all right -- if you'd like them runnier next time, just let me know. Jacob C

The bloke could cook. The knowledge made Duncan stare at the little note on the receipt a bit longer than he should've.

After stewing in his thoughts for a moment, Duncan finally decided to bite the bullet and ask his server about when Jacob got off work. The server gave him a knowing smile.

"He's supposed to only work mornings," she explained, "but he always stays later. I reckon Jacob would stay and work for a full twelve hours, if we'd let him...but he always heads out, whenever his sister gets here."

Duncan blinked. "His sister?"

The memory of Jacob mentioning a "Wyn" rippled over his mind.

"Carewyn's her name," said the server fondly. "She's a sweet little thing -- smarter than her brother too, sometimes. She's still in grade school, but she always takes the trolley after school to 'pick Jacob up' when he's working here, so they can head home together." She gave a soft laugh behind her hand. "It's absolutely adorable."

The thought of Coby carrying his sister Veruca on his shoulders when she was little rippled over Duncan's mind, and it made something a little softer flit through his expression.

"...I see..."

Well, there went the idea of talking to Jacob some more after he got off work... Duncan considered his options for a moment before speaking again.

"...I'll be off then," he said at last, his voice incredibly business-like. "Tell Jacob I'll be back Thursday morning -- and if possible, I'd like to give him a review of his cooking in person."

~*~

From then on, Duncan would come into Pik's Tavern every Tuesday and Thursday morning on his way into the capitol, Jacob would cook him a scrumptious breakfast spread, and they would talk while Duncan ate. More than once Duncan would pay for Jacob's meal too so that he could eat with him -- if nothing else, he said gruffly, he should reimburse the Tavern for "stealing" one of their chefs for an hour or so twice a week.

As he and Jacob sat together, they would talk about various things -- economics, dirigibles, medicine, anthropology, music, renewable energy, joke shops, trains, mythology, biodegradable alternatives to household goods...anything and everything. They'd also talk about themselves, sometimes. Jacob would gush about his sister Carewyn, who was as sweet and small as a cherub, but brave and smart as a whip, and his mother Lane, who was soft-spoken and hated crowds, but was the gentlest and smartest person he knew. Duncan would talk about Coby -- about how laid-back and fun he was to be around, about all the trouble they got into at school together...about how much he loved his sister Veruca, and how much Jacob had reminded him of his best friend. Duncan would talk about his father and how they never spoke after the death of his mother -- how Duncan was working at the court of Spades and was determined to really be somebody, his own person, on his own and successful and free to do as he liked. Jacob would talk about how his father abandoned his family, leaving Jacob to drop out of school so as to help keep his family afloat financially through his multiple part-time jobs, and how he taught himself using books from the library, since he lacked the money or qualifications to attend university himself. Sometimes Jacob would even sing! Duncan caught the other man's tenor voice echoing several times out of the kitchen on his way out to greet him, and each time the soaring, carefree tone would make Duncan's heart skip a beat.

The two young men would talk and talk until finally both Jacob and Duncan had cleared their plates and had to get back to their respective jobs. And at Duncan's job in particular, he found the subjects of his meetings with Jacob returning to his mind more and more, whenever he'd meet with the rest of court.

"If we're looking for funds for these projects," Duncan proposed one day, "then perhaps technology could provide some solutions. Sure, we don't have enough money to pay for a new school right now...but investing in energy that's renewable, rather than single-use, could make it cheaper to refuel the machines needed to build these new structures. Water, for instance -- it's still only been used on the large scale right now with dams, but hydroelectric power could be a great alternative, if it could be duplicated on a smaller scale."

Afterward the Jack of Spades actually pulled Duncan aside to speak to him privately.

Ulrich Scheller was a very austere, by-the-book sort of man. Duncan had never once see him smile, and he and Coby both reckoned no one had ever heard him crack a joke in his life. Ulrich was very tall and stiff-shouldered, dressed in a high-necked black and white tweed coat that made him look like a vicar. He was losing some of his blond hair, so he'd combed his gelled hair down a bit to obscure it, but it didn't appear comical: if anything, it only made his forehead appear taller and his face appear longer and pointier, by extension.

"Your idea is really quite inventive," said the older man, his eyes boring into Duncan very carefully. "I hope you don't mind if I discuss it with the King, when next I speak with him?"

Duncan was startled. The Jack actually wanted to tell the King about something he'd suggested?

"Of course not," he said very quickly, once he'd recovered.

"Good," said Ulrich.

He crossed his arms behind him, strolling over to the window and looking out.

"...The King was very positive, when someone passed along your idea about vaccines. He came to me specifically requesting that I invest more in our local laboratories for the coming year. ...I don't think I've ever heard the King speak so passionately about infrastructure before."

The Jack's eyes watched Duncan's reflection in the window carefully. Duncan felt like an invisible hand was squeezing his stomach in a vice grip.

"...Thank you," Duncan said after a moment.

"Your hard work and resourcefulness have garnered quite a lot of attention," the Jack pressed on. "Investing in biodegradable tools, applying submarine technology to mining equipment...even the Ace of Spades has noticed. I think I even caught her expressing some interest in some of your ideas -- or at least, adapting them for her particular department..."

Ulrich gave Duncan an almost curious look.

"I must admit, Mr. Ashe...you are an impressive young man."

Duncan felt ill.

The praise should've been so validating -- after all, Duncan had worked incredibly hard, and he did want to be seen as valuable to the Court of Spades...but he'd only brought up Jacob's ideas because they were objectively good ideas -- they had to be, if the King reacted so well to them! Duncan hadn't really planned to take sole credit for those ideas...and now that he was set to, he found himself feeling trapped. On the one hand, he didn't want to take credit for ideas that Jacob had come up with all by himself, without even a formal education...but on the other hand, he didn't know how the Jack of Spades would respond to the knowledge that Duncan had earned all of this respect through promoting ideas developed by someone else...

"Mr. Ashe?" said Ulrich. "Is something the matter?"

Duncan shot out of his reverie. "No, sir."

He paused. Jacob's grinning face swam over his mind.

"Guess I just like applying my brain to more useful activities."

"Wasn't doing it for pay in the first place, after all."

"I honestly wasn't even thinking of my own commute, right then. I just knew the driver was having trouble, and I was pretty sure I could help, so I wanted to try. I like solving people's problems."

Jacob never looked for any kind of reward, for the work he put in. He didn't ever seem to want anything selfishly for himself. All he ever seemed to care about was solving problems -- knowing that what he'd done had been helpful to others...

Even so...

Duncan swallowed.

"...I can't take credit for those ideas, sir," he admitted lowly at last. "All I did was share them -- "

"Shared them at very critical moments," Ulrich cut him off smoothly. "They were timely and educated suggestions. You clearly put a lot of thought into them..."

"No, I didn't," Duncan said, a bit more loudly than he meant.

He very quickly reigned his emotions back in as best he could.

"...I mean, yes, they were applicable to the task at hand -- and yes, I have worked hard, and I appreciate you noticing..."

The young man swallowed again, trying to steady his courage.

"...But those ideas...I didn't come up with them on my own. They weren't even my ideas in the first place -- they're someone else's."

Duncan averted his eyes, unable to look at his superior.

"...He's the inventive one. I just...recalled his ideas, during those conferences."

The Jack of Spades considered Duncan for a long moment. Then, to Duncan's shock, he actually smirked slightly.

"Mr. Ashe," Ulrich said coolly, "you misunderstood my compliment completely. I never expected all of those ideas to be solely your own invention -- for however smart you fancy yourself to be, you are still only a student," he added rather dryly. "You have so much still to learn -- about politics, about the world. About mankind overall. That's why it's a remarkable talent, to discern which voices to listen to...to pinpoint good ideas when you hear them and promote them to others who might be too afraid to pursue them, despite their novelty. ...It's a talent I've lacked for a very long time..."

The Jack turned around to face Duncan properly, his arms still folded stiffly behind him.

"Yes, perhaps others presumed these ideas were fully germinated from your brain, but I was never so foolish to. Speaking from experience, however -- there's nothing inherently wrong with being influenced by the people around you, especially if they are both valuable and trustworthy. And from the sound of things...the people who've inspired you have been fortunate enough to earn your trust."

Duncan felt that hand squeezing his stomach loosen its grip. He relaxed slightly, relieved that his position hadn't been compromised -- but there was still something restless, in his feet.

"...Thank you, sir," he said.

Duncan paused. Then, after a moment, he spoke with a big more strength in his voice.

"Sir?"

"Yes?"

"There's this man I know. He's my age, but his mind...it's inventive, truly inventive, in a way mine isn't. ...I think he'd be invaluable, in developing new interior projects for the Country of Spades."

Ulrich cocked his eyebrows, interested.

"If you think so, perhaps you should invite him to court."

Duncan's heart gave a leap of surprise as Ulrich strolled over to the door of his office.

"...You give your approval, sir?" Duncan asked, delighted.

"After tonight, Mr. Ashe," the Jack said cryptically, "I don't think you'll need it."

He didn't explain himself at all before he strode away.

It was only when Duncan returned home that he found the official Spades-sealed letter that had been delivered to his door.

Dear Mr. Ashe, We are pleased to inform you that you have been nominated -- with nearly universal approval from the Court of Spades -- to take on Master Ulrich Scheller's position as the Jack of Spades.

~*~

Within a few weeks, Duncan had taken on the mantle of the new Jack of Spades. The same day Duncan was inaugurated, Jacob Cromwell put in his letter of resignation at the mechanic shop, Pik's Tavern, and the uptown library near his home and took a full-time job as an advisor and technology expert at the court of Spades under Duncan.

The rest of the courtiers honestly didn't know what to make of Jacob at first, but fortunately even those who'd looked upon him with the most scorn eventually came to see how truly brilliant the young man was. More than a few times, Patricia Rakepick tried to coax Jacob to make some more militaristic modifications to his blueprints -- but to Duncan's satisfaction, Jacob always ended up finding a way to blow the Ace of Spades off.

"Why would you use mining suits on a battlefield anyway?" Jacob asked with a deep frown. "They'd get trashed up so fast you'd have to fix them over and over...so pointless..."

Duncan smiled wryly. "Guess I shouldn't be surprised you have more interest in building mechanical bees than bombs and tanks."

"Well, of course!" said Jacob as if it were obvious. "Mechanical bees can help with the shrinking bee population. With artificial pollinators in the mix, we can both help the environment and improve food and medicine production! Not to mention the technology could be applied to larger models, once it's perfected -- imagine! Mechanical winged horses that can pull our own modified flying carriages! Mechanical carrier pigeons to deliver messages! Maybe even mechanical dragons! Imagine the uses that could give to a welder, or a baker...anyone in the culinary industry, really..."

Duncan found himself smiling absently as he let Jacob go off on another one of his dreamy tangents. His subordinate's blue eyes had drifted skyward ages ago, as it often did whenever he was thinking hard, but they sparkled like happy aquamarine gems.

Jacob hadn't had a lot of opportunities in his life, prior to meeting Duncan. After meeting him, though, Duncan hoped he'd have more, much more.

Because someone this resilient...this brilliant, this passionate, this idealistic and good...even with all the disadvantages he'd had and all the struggles he'd had to overcome and all the reasons he had to resent the world and his place in it...

He deserved to be celebrated. He deserved to be great, and appreciated, and successful -- to be able to do what he wanted to do and chase all of his sky-high dreams as far as they'd take him...

Jacob deserved to feel important. Because...he was. To Duncan, at the very least...he was important.