INEJ
Depression doesn't suit me. Unfortunately, knowing you're depressed and disliking it isn't enough to dissolve it. When the knocks comes at the door, I huff out an answer.
"Come in." Ashiana enters and I give her a soft smile. Regardless of how I'm feeling, we have developed a tentative friendship and I enjoy her company.
"How are you?" It's always her first question.
"My body feels much better. I think my lungs are almost entirely healed - thanks to you." She has dimples when she smiles and it reminds me of a childhood friend. Rosaline was beautiful as well. I loved her dimples, they always showed up when I arrived. Barely a year older than me, we were thick as thieves. Our parents had been close friends for years and our families often travelled together. Thinking of her cheers me slightly until the memories of my capture and enslavement slam into me, pulling me back into sadness. What would she think of me now? Would her dimples show up when I arrived if she knew all that had happened? All I've done? My parents had listened, accepted, continued to love me although I'd kept the discussion of my previous professions to a minimum. They had wanted me home but when I'd told them of my plans, my purpose, they understood and agreed wholeheartedly.
"You will always have a place among us," they'd assured me. But I don't know if I would now. That life, the simple joy that characterized each day, seems unreachable now. I will always been marked by my experiences. This darkness I've travelled through will always be inside me. I don't know if that part of me could re-acclimate to the life I lived before.
I try to push away the dark thoughts but still they hound me. My eyes meet Ashiana's and I see understanding there. While she cannot know my thoughts, we have both been enslaved; both been used; both carry scars that no Tailor can erase.
"How can I help?" The look on her face tells me my feelings are clearly displayed. I shake my head and attempt another smile.
"Can you heal my mind too?" There's sadness in her eyes that matches my own. She shakes her head.
"We all must live with these memories. You and I, we are alike in this. I am sorry -" she sighs "I wish I could change our pasts; heal us of these invisible pains. But..." she looks out the window.
"We must be stronger than them. If we let the pain win, we give those men power they don't deserve. You and I, we will be strong together. Come," she stands quickly. "Get dressed. Something casual," she turns to my bag and rummages through it. With most other people, the action would incite my ire. Instead, her energy and determination infect me. I rise from the bed. She pulls out a loose white shirt and soft black pants. I chuckle
"I can't go out in those. They're my cabin clothes." I don't allow myself many luxuries but once, when we docked at the far end of the Wandering Isle, one of the girls we'd rescued begged me to come ashore and into town with her. I'd intended only to stop, make sure the girls were safely on their way home, and head out again. Saoirse was from town so she insisted that I meet her family.
"Let me just introduce you. They will want to thank the woman who saved me." Her jubilation convinced me and I followed her down the road that led from port into town.
Watching her reunion was one of the moments that will stay with me as long as I live. She was only twelve. Her age made the hatred of those slavers so strong, I had my men tie them to the top of the masts, making sure they were forced to watch death coming for them as the ship slowly sank. I don't think it lasted long enough.
Her parents were regular tailors, not the Grisha kind. While they made all kinds of clothing, they had two specialties. Her mother, Aurnia, was famous for her exquisitely-detailed dresses while Saoirse's older sister, Sadhbh, specialized in soft home wear. She used wool from a rare breed of sheep that their brother kept on the little farm they had a couple miles out. He and their father, whom I didn't get the chance to meet, ran the farm while the women made and sold their wears in town.
Aurnia and Sadhbh both insisted I take some of their clothes with me. There was no denying them and I left with several extra soft shirts and pants and one of the most beautiful dresses I've ever laid eyes on. I brought it to shore with me and I have no doubt it will remain in the back of the closet for the rest of my life.
"That's perfect," Ashiana insists. "We're not going out. Just to the garden for a little air. It will do you good." She sees my hesitation and plunges on, refusing to take no for an answer.
"Join me, please? I haven't had anywhere to enjoy the outdoors in this dirty city since I arrived. I want to share it with someone." The pleading in her eyes convinces me and I take the clothes.
"Alright."
"I'll wait outside in the hallway," which is probably wise. This way, I won't be able to stall for too long. She closes the door and I slip out of the clothes I've been wearing for two days. They managed to get me into the bath at the beginning of the second day but I haven't had any desire to change again.
The feel of the delicate wool against my skin draws out a pleased sigh. I open the door and Ashiana's dimples greet me. A real smile, bigger than the last, stretches across my face in answer.
"Let's go!" She exclaims. I can feel the weight of my sadness lifting slowly, ever so slightly, off my shoulders as I follow her down the stairs. She almost throws open the door in her excitement.
"I've been wanting to go through the garden since I glimpsed it out a window yesterday. Wylan and Jesper invited me this morning and said they'd like you to come enjoy it as well."
When we enter the garden, I look around me in wonder.
The yellow flowers always smell the best. I remember telling Wylan last year. It would appear he took me at my word. Everywhere I look, there are different varieties of yellow flowers accented with white. Some have yet to open as it's only spring.
Weeping cherry trees lean heavily in several corners, dripping with white blooms like a waterfall of melting snow. The ground around them is filled with bright yellow marsh marigolds along with daisies and bloodroots, white with cheery yellow centers. Waves of spirea and forsythia function as white and yellow structures for the smaller plants to cluster around.
The walls are covered with the delicate star-shaped clumps of common jasmine vines, perfuming the garden with their sweet scent. I'd forgotten about jasmine when I told Wylan about the flowers. It didn't grow well in Ravka and, although it's not yellow, even small amounts can envelop an entire area in fragrance.
Then there are the roses. At the center of the garden, an arbor stands with a bench swing waiting beneath it. Along the path are yellow roses, my favorite. The star of the group is a rose I've seen only once and never forgotten. The grandiflora blooms are a light yellow with a creamy finish. The smell is one of my favorites. Yellow roses are particularly hard to grow, especially in cooler climates. That it's here and in bloom means someone is taking very careful care of this garden. I walk down the aisle to the arbor, which boasts a climbing rose, just starting to spread it's tendrils upward along the sides. The dark glossy leaves highlight the rose that, at first glance appears only white but, upon further inspection, reveals a light pink center.
I stop at each blossom, taking a whiff of each until my nose is so confused it cannot truly appreciate the differences. I settle myself on the bench and look for Ashiana. She cups the flowers gently as she bends to smells them.
This is like another world. A place I could get lost in and happily live forever. Ashiana meets my eyes and I see my sentiments reflected there. She leaves the flowers and comes toward me, sitting gently beside me. We rock back and forth in silence for a time.
"It's incredible," she says, finally breaking the quiet. I nod and, although we are both staring out around us, I know she feels my agreement. No more words are needed.
I'm not sure how long we stay like that. Both of us pushing our feet against the ground as the bench swings back and lifting as it moves forward. Our peace is ended by a voice calling our names. We both see Jesper turn the corner at the same time and I glance at her. She wears a matching grin.
"So you found the garden!" He exclaims as he draws closer. I can see Wylan following close behind. I nod.
"It's wonderful," Wylan smiles as he approaches.
"I'm glad you like it. I started on it last year, not long as you left. You were right, yellow flowers do smell delicious. Although, I have to say I'm particularly enamored with the jasmine."
"I am as well," I agree.
"This place is magical. You did any amazing job, Wylan," Ashiana adds. Wylan's cheeks turn a little red at all the compliments.
"I helped too, you know," Jesper insists. We laugh.
"He did. I made him do all the digging." Jesper shoots Wylan a playful look.
"I wasn't aware when I left the Dregs that I'd be forced into physical labor." This time, the look he sends to Wylan is more that a little flirtatious. Wylan's face colors all the way up to the tips of his ears.
The easy camaraderie between us relaxes me and we settle into a discussion of the various plants and their needs. It would appear the careful caretaker is Wylan. With assistance from Jesper, of course. Wylan finally steers the conversation to current events.
"Inej, we're so glad you're home," I smile.
"Me too."
"I - we haven't really had a chance to talk about it but I wanted to let you know about some things that are coming up at the house." I raise an eyebrow in question.
"It's about Alys." He looks almost nervous now.
"You see, my father promised her that he'd throw a big party for her birthday after the baby was born. I don't generally care about the promises he made but, well, you've met Alys. She doesn't mean any harm. It's not her fault my father was -" he pauses.
"I know," I say, encouraging him to move past talking about the father that hurt him so deeply.
"My mother has been staying with her. She's much better now and has taken Alys on as her own. She's been helping with the baby a lot too. She was very insistent that we hold the party. So I've been planning it. It's - well, it's next week." I let out a little laugh of surprise.
"I would've told you sooner but..." I wave my hand in the air as if dismissing any implied issues.
"I'm glad you're taking care of her, Wylan. It's very good of you. And I'm so happy your mother is doing better. That's truly a blessing." He nods.
"Thank you. I agree. I-" he looks at Jesper for a moment. "We were hoping you'd join us for the party. You too, Ashiana," he adds quickly.
"I'd love to," she replies just a quickly. All eyes turn to me.
"Of course, I'll come. I doubt I could miss it even if I wanted to," I wink.
"What kind of attire is required?" Ashiana asks.
"It is black tie. Alys had some dress made right before she got pregnant. She never had a chance to wear it, which I think may be part of the reason my father promised her the party. You should've heard her lamenting it's lack of use," Wylan responds, rolling his eyes.
"We'd be happy to have someone come and fit both of you with something appropriate." Ashiana bows her head graciously.
"I'd very much appreciate that. I don't have much use for fancy clothes in my current profession." Wylan looks at me.
"I have something already," Jesper and Wylan look at me in surprise but Ashiana gives me a knowing smile. Apparently, she's already explored my closet. I suppose I'll get to use that dress after all.
It's as we're leaving that I realize I haven't felt sad since I entered the garden. It truly is a magical place. I promise myself I'll come here anytime I struggle from now on. Ashiana loops her arm through mine as we mount the stairs.
"Now," she whisper conspiratorially, "let's talk about my dress." Our laughter carries us up the stairs. I have no doubt I'll be hearing about clothes entirely too often for the next week.
KAZ
Ruffin did a good job of disappearing after he heard about Greiden. I considered looking for him but settled for spies posted around the Kaelish Prince. If he's willing to go that deep into hiding to escape me, I'll let him stay underground and squirm. It will be punishment enough for now.
A message arrives from Wylan a couple days after the fire saying that Inej is recovering well. I ignore his not so subtle hint that I should visit her. I doubt she'll welcome a visit once she learns what I've done. That thought, and only that, causes me to feel a glimmer of guilt for his death. I brush it off. That kind of thinking leads to weakness and I cannot afford to be weak now. While their numbers have been reduced, the Dime Lions are angry and ready for retaliation. There have already been multiple skirmishes in areas where our territories meet.
I hear footsteps on the stairs that proceed a soft knock at the office door.
"Yes?" I call out. The door opens slightly, then a little more.
"Boss?" It's one of the younger members, a tiny girl not much older than I was when I entered the city. She can't do much other than cleaning and cooking but she works hard and that's earned her a place among us.
"Come in," my voice comes out rusty and low from disuse.
"I have a letter for you." I raise an eyebrow. "It came from Mr. Wylan's courier." I sigh.
"Put it on the desk."
"Yes, sir." She steps in quietly, gingerly places it on my desk, and retreats back into the doorway. She pauses for a moment and I look back up.
"Was there something else?" I manage to keep the irritation from my voice but only just.
"It sure is pretty, Boss. That's all. I liked lookin' at it." With that, she ducks her head and closes the door behind her. I give the letter a surreptitious glance, feigning indifference. Two messages from Wylan in a couple days, especially when Inej is involved, is interesting indeed. However, the letter that sits before me is most assuredly not an update on her health. The envelope is an ostentatious gold with my name attractively spelled out in flowing black letters.
Pretty indeed. What was Wylan doing sending me a letter like this? I return to my work, turning numbers over in my head. Who needs paying, where funds need allocating, profits of the Crow's Club, all normally engaging. However, the light glinting off the letter continues to draw my attention away from the figures.
With no one around, I'm not sure why I'm pretending I don't care. It's not as though there's anyone here to judge how quickly I open it. Or don't. I consider throwing it away but Wylan is as close to a friend as I get nowadays. I roll my eyes and reach for the letter. I use my letter opener and even with it, the paper is thick enough to give it pause before yielding to the pressure.
I unfold it carefully and then resist the burst of laughter that attempts to escape.
The Esteemed Wylan Van Eck requests the pleasure of your presence at the Van Eck Estate
Please join us in celebrating the birthday of Ms. Alys Van Eck and welcoming her daughter, Plunje Johanna Van Eck -
I stop reading and shake my head, a small smile breaking through.
This is ridiculous. Still, I can't help a chuckle from escaping.
She named her Plunje. I distinctly remember that title was destined for a parakeet. Won't Jan be pleased? The thought shakes another rumble of laughter out of me.
If only all my plans worked out so well. Uncharacteristic remorse fills me as my mind unwittingly reminds of my recent plan that went so terribly awry. The darkness of the memory overtakes me completely and only anger is able to counteract it.
I doubt anyone considers my presence pleasant. I look over the date and time accompanied by another head shake. I place the letter in the burn pile and turn back to my numbers. Yet, no matter how hard I try, my focus is divided now. Divided by her. A vision of her silhouetted in my window. Another of her hair escaping it's tight coil. The tiny smile she saves for me when we lounge together, deep in discussion.
As much as I want to ignore the thoughts, I cannot help but wonder Would she want me there? Would she be pleased to see me? Wylan hinted as much in his first message. Then again, I'm not sure how much Wylan knows about the feelings of females.
Does she miss me? This one question has plagued me for over a year. It continues to echo in my mind even now. Even now that she's here, close enough to ask, close enough to tell...
I stand suddenly. I grab my cane and pull the door open quickly, my hand gripping the handle entirely too tightly.
Time to go. I find I can outpace my mind much better when I'm walking. A few of the Dregs look up in surprise at my abrupt appearance. I move swiftly down the stairs, the thump of my cane resounding along with my footsteps. I see a couple men rise to follow me and I don't stop them. With the Dime Lions on the prowl, I'd be foolish to walk alone with so much on my mind. Not that I haven't been a fool before but more than my life is at stake now.
While I know most people wouldn't believe the monster that is Kaz Brekker cares about anything other than himself, I do recognize the responsibility I have to the Dregs. I am the one who made them what they are now. I'm the one who took power from Per Haskell, causing a major change that didn't include a lapse in leadership. I'm the one who started this fight with the Dime Lions, first with Rollins and again with Greiden. If I go down, many of my men go down with me. While I know most of the 'good citizens' of Ketterdam wouldn't see any issue with that, they are my men and I'm not one to give up anything of mine easily.
I walk faster, winding through the streets that are still crowded with people. Past the pubs, pleasure houses, and gambling dens into the more respectable area of the city. Here, people don't hawk their wears in the streets. The shop windows are lined attractively with all manners of goods. I don't normally make it this far. I don't have to glance behind me to know that the Dregs have fallen out, disappeared from sight. This part of town isn't nearly as dangerous and it would make more trouble for me to be seen with them than without.
I slow my pace and take my time looking at windows. A store entirely dedicated to toys emits high pitched squeals audible from outside even with the door closed. The next seems to be a subsidiary of the other (both windows bear the name Bantum) selling clothing and other goods for children.
The miller comes after and I pause, running my fingers along the rim of my hat, which I pulled low when I left the Slat. Of course, anonymity is difficult when the gloved grip on my cane carries a certain notoriety. Here, however, fewer people know of Kaz Brekker and my penchant for scheming and reputation for causing pain. I know the edges of my hat are rather ragged and I consider purchasing a new one.
Get me a new hat. The memory of her, this hat in her hands, hurries me onward. Against all odds, I've managed to hold onto this one for over a year. Now, the idea of parting with it brings a pang of deep displeasure.
I move past several more stores, unseeing until I draw abreast of proprietor of women's accessories. This too seems to be an addition to another store. What appears to be an old-fashioned Draper shop connects the accessories shop with a seamstress "specializing in women's apparel." Movement just inside the closest window catches my eye and I pause.
I see Ashiana first; her long curls hanging around her like a thick veil. I don't expect to find Inej, small and dark, beside her. With Ashiana's golden beauty in attendance, most people would miss Inej. In fact, most people would miss Inej regardless of Ashiana's presence. She stands slightly off to the side, her body so rigid she could be a mannequin. Until she laughs.
Ashiana turns to her, a white and gold fan, dripping with pearls attached to the delicate lace by silk ribbons, held open against her face. She looks at Inej. She must have said something because Inej throws her head back for a moment, lips parted, all of her moving into a full body laugh. I almost step back but I can't, I can't turn my eyes away from her. Her happiness infects me and all I want is to find a way to capture it so I can bring her back to it again and again.
Then I see it: the moment when the laugh becomes too much and she has to rein it in. She puts a hand across her chest and I see Ashiana place her hand over it. Inej breathes slowly a few times then nods. Ashiana withdraws, placing the fan back on the table.
As though drawn by my stare, Inej looks toward me. I can see the exact moment she recognizes me. She stills like an animal caught in the eye of a predator. Ashiana notices and looks up. Her reaction is the opposite. Her smile widens and she winks. She nudges Inej and I realize that in the short time they've known each other, they have become friends. It shouldn't surprise me. With their similar background, there was a lot of commonality to be found. Even so, jealousy lights a fire in me. I want to laugh with Inej like that. I want to touch her casually, in the midst of an exchange. I want her eyes to brighten when she looks upon me.
This woman is turning me into a sap. Perhaps it would be so if the reality wasn't so pitiful. I can do none of those things with her. Instead, I can only watch and wish as we perform the dance my past has written for me. I can only look on and hope the waters don't overtake me when she draws too close.
Almost immediately, I see Ashiana sauntering towards me. No way to avoid her now. She opens the door and looks out.
"Are you just going to stand there?" She asks expectantly. She's always been a little too bold with me but we interact so infrequently that it hasn't bothered me before She reminds me of Nina in many ways, including her audacity. Perhaps that is another reason she and Inej have formed a friendships in so short a time.
I duck my head in mock submission and move toward the door. I remove my hat as I enter, attempting to appear gentlemanly. Something about Inej, so different yet clearly a welcome addition to this shop, makes me want to at least seem like I could belong here. The irrationality settles a grimness inside me instead. There's no way the monster of Ketterdam could ever belong in a place like this.
"What brings you this way, Kaz?" Ashiana questions immediately. I shrug my shoulder nonchalantly.
"Simply out for a stroll." I see Inej's eyes narrow for a moment. She knows I'm not one for casual meandering. Everything I do has a purpose; a purpose she used to be privy to when her presence at my side occurred with regularity. However, even if she was by side night and day, I wouldn't tell her the reason for this walk. Admitting that would reveal a weakness I doubt I could hide again.
Ashiana however, nods as though this is an acceptable answer. I consider asking about the nature of their visit but the words tumble out of her before I get the chance.
"We're here to accessorize for Wylan's party. Well, I am. Inej is being difficult. She won't get anything fun." She nudges her again then looks at me. "Maybe you could convince her?" Inej meets my eyes and I see something akin to humor but it is swiftly squashed by suspicion followed by forced indifference.
"I don't think Ms. Ghafa needs my assistance. I'm certain my opinion of ladies' fashion is severely lacking." The formality of my statement rakes pain through me. Why can't it just be easy between us, as it used to be? Then again, never in the history of our relationship have we appeared in such a high-class shop. We are both out of our comfort zone.
Ashiana huffs. "You're no help at all. Very well. We'll choose some gloves. Inej has committed to those, at least. Evening gloves are all the rage now and Wylan's party promises to be attended by those wearing the height of Ketterdam fashion." She gives me a sly look. "I'm sure you have an opinion of gloves." My hand clenches around the head of my cane. Ashiana is moving away before I can consider swinging it at her. Inej follows with another skeptical glance at me. I have no choice but to follow.
The back wall boasts a wider assortment of gloves than I expected were even in existence. Ashiana moves past the shorter gloves, not even sparing a glance to the wrist-length ones, pausing briefly at those that extended midway up the arm, until she reaches gloves that look as though they would extend to the elbow and beyond. Most are white but the embroidery and beads come in a variety of colors.
I cannot believe I am about to peruse women's gloves. The implausibility of it has me throwing looks over my shoulder, checking to see if any of my men are watching this. Satisfied that we are mostly hidden, I turn back. Ashiana has pulled at least five pairs off the shelves, all bearing some kind of pink and green floral embroidery. Inej remains behind her, eyes taking it all in but she makes no move to approach a particular pair. As I look over them, I'm nearly overwhelmed by the myriad of designs.
I most assuredly prefer men's gloves. They only come in a couple colors of leather without decoration. Much like the black ones that adorn my hands now. Ashiana stops and grabs Inej, pulling her closer.
"You're not getting out of this," she scolds. "You know you need some." She motions to a group of heavily beaded ones. "These would go well with your dress." Inej tries to withdraw but Ashiana has a firm grip on her arm. With a small shake of her head, Inej looks toward the simpler ones. She reaches for a plain pair of white gloves but Ashiana stops her.
"No, you have to have something with a little flair. That dress requires it." Ashiana grabs a pair with silk bows in a line from wrist to end and another with some sort of gold beads that form a thick ring around the end but gradually lessen in number as they reach the wrist. She pulls leather gloves that are white with gold flowers sparsely embroidered on the top connected to dark brown leather along the inner arm and palm. This time, it is Ashiana who shakes her head.
"Not these. Too firm for the delicate lace. The gold would go well though." This time, she pulls a couple covered from fingers to end in lace. Inej pushes them away. She finally approaches the wall. I can see her considering the simpler ones. Unconscious of my reasoning, I step forward. I gently take an understated pair off the shelf.
The top bares a lace cut-out about mid-arm that will expose her skin beneath it. The end contains more lace with a few small pearls in the center of a couple flower-like swirls, finishing the design in large crescents. I hand them to her and she doesn't meet my eyes as she takes them. She straightens her arm, carefully pulling one of the gloves onto her left arm. It ends an inch or two above her elbow. Flipping her arm over to the inside of her wrist, she slips three pearl buttons into place, tightening the fabric so it doesn't bunch.
I fight the urge to unbutton them again and trace my thumb along the soft skin of her wrist. I refuse to entertain how it would feel to touch her skin through the small openings in the lace halfway up her arm. I breathe in deeply and step away.
Ashiana returns, her arms encased in two different gloves. She takes a look at Inej's arm and nods.
"Those are perfect. Good job." This time, Inej does meet my eyes. Confusion colors her gaze. "Now, which of these do you prefer?" Ashiana asks, drawing Inej's attention away. Inej silently points to her right arm. The white fabric bears a long, winding line of green vines and pink flowers from the wrist to a clump of flowers that accent a scalloped edge.
I have got to get out of here. I'm considering scalloped edges, embroidery and pearls. Decisions made, I step back and attempt to escape. Ashiana stops me.
"Thanks for your help, Kaz. We'll see you on Friday?" My eyes meet Inej's once more. She hasn't said a single word to me and I'm left to wonder, again, if she would want me there.
"Perhaps," I say noncommittally. With that, I bow slightly and turn on my heel, fixing my hat into place as I exit. I shake my head, attempting to remove the bizarre experience from my mind. Instead, an imagined image of Inej, long gloves encasing her arms, reaching out to me, touching my cheek, hands in my hair, pulling me closer...
This walk had the opposite of the intended effect. Now my fantasies have new fodder. I head back into the bowels of Ketterdam. Time to settle some territory disputes.