There was an old man of Dee-side,
Whose hat was exceedingly wide,
But he said, 'Do not fail,
If it happens to hail
To come under my hat at Dee-side!'

There was an old person of Newry,
Whose manners were tinctured with fury;
He tore all the rugs,
And broke all the jugs
Within twenty miles' distance of Newry.

~Edward Lear

Another unpleasant inevitability: The Knave couldn't avoid encountering the Hatter forever. The thorniness of this pending event, after their duel on Frabjous Day, cannot be overstated.

Even with advance warning from Mirana that she had invited her dear friend to dinner one night, it was with trepidation that Casiphia and Ilosovic went into the banquet hall. Amid the quantity of white marble and fabric and wigs, it was impossible to miss either Stayne or the Hatter, with one stark in mostly black and the other a splash of assorted colors. He and Casiphia took their seats as stealthily as possible, but this didn't stop the Hatter from spotting them instantly from his seat near the other end of the table.

Slamming his teacup to the table, he glared at them.

"I'm thinking of words that start with the letter S," he announced. "Slime. Scoundrel. Scallywag. Serpent."

"Snarky," said Casiphia under her breath. The lady in waiting seated next to her hid a grin behind her napkin and exchanged a glance with her, which Casiphia found gratifying.

"Scrum. Slurvish," the Hatter continued, suddenly realizing that Mirana was giving him a stern look. He lowered his voice, but continued. "Snig. Snooghodler."

"Now you're just making up words!" Stayne shouted, leaping to his feet.

"And you deserve every one of them!" the Hatter roared, also jumping up.

The next to take to her feet was Mirana, with dignity, yet with eyes blazing. "Gentlemen, enough. We are going to have a civilized meal here—are we not?"

Both men retook their seats, casting baleful glances down the table at each other. Casiphia patted Ilosovic's hand and whispered something in his ear that sounded like "be the good example," which incensed the Hatter all the more. He remained quiet, however, although his eyes still blazed Orange.

"Well, we knew this wasn't going to be entirely pleasant," Casiphia said to Rosalba at her right.

"As long as we get through it without bloodshed. Or too much wasted food," Rosalba winked. Casiphia was starting to realize her fellow courtiers might be more interesting than she'd given them credit for—at least this one.

"I keep expecting Mallymkun to pop out of a teapot and storm down the table to stab me with a hatpin," Ilosovic whispered.

"If she does, I'll help you bind the wound," Casiphia said.

"So helpful, you are," he said, poking her arm with the tip of his knife. Casiphia snatched the knife from his hand and hid it under her plate.

But Mirana was tapping on her crystal wine goblet with her spoon and waiting for the room to fall silent. As soon as it had, she spoke.

"Tarrant, Ilosovic," she began. "You two have been both friends and enemies over the years, since the two of you were boys. I know you both have reasons for anger, but surely you see that your history should bring you back to friendship. I don't ask that this happen tonight, but I do ask that this dinner be a polite occasion."

The Hatter mumbled something and Stayne stared at something nonexistent across the room.

"We have lived through fraught and perilous times. It is now time to begin rebuilding, to leave the past to the ashes and move forward. We should remember what it is we care about in each other, and use that as our foundation."

Mirana returned to her place, and gradually the room filled again with quiet talking.

"She is going to be a very good queen, is she not?" Ilsosovic whispered to Casiphia.

"Yes, I do believe she is," she smiled back. "If she can make peace between the two of you, I am very hopeful for the future."

"Just as long as I'm not supposed to make amends to that clodpated lunatic tonight."

"Hush. Drink your tea."

"May I have my knife back?"

"No. And if I have to remove your weapons one at a time to keep peace this evening, I will do so," Casiphia said, doing her best to ignore the smirk on Stayne's face as he gave this some thought.

Then she gave a long and tremulous sigh.

"Milady, what is the matter?" Ilosovic asked.

"It's just...well...I have long wanted Tarrant to make me a hat. But if the two of you are enemies..." Casiphia fluttered her eyelashes and gave him a sad look.

"I think I'm having too much influence on you, my dear," Ilosovic laughed. "Very well, if you're going to take advantage of my affections for you..."

"Oh, I most certainly am," Casiphia said. "Whatever further incentive I can provide in this situation, I will be glad to do so. I do work for Mirana, after all."

"The world we live in grows stranger by the day, does it not?" Ilosovic said.

"It certainly does," Casiphia replied, leaning over to give him a quick kiss, heedless of the reactions of anyone else in the room. "And I wouldn't have it any other way."