The Deck thought to pity him, it would seem. He'd make them regret that. If he hated them, he'd make everyone else hate him just as much. Using their own little ways against them.

David returned the bow with one so deep, so extravagent, it mocked the Spade he had been and the one he talked to now.

"Don't let me keep you, figlio. You never have before." Sarcasm was so easy, and maliciously self-deprecating humor had always been there. He just used to keep it to himself.

A flourish as he stood, and hard pride shone in his eyes as he straightened. He might be broken now, but damned if he'd let the child he'd raised think him weak.