fₒᵣ ᵢ ₐₘ bₑcₒₘₑ dₑₐₜₕ, dₑₛₜᵣₒyₑᵣ ₒf wₒᵣₗdₛ
Anastasia Morozova is a kinslayer. Anya Varamyr is a murderer. Anastasia is a decorated soldier. Anya is a backstreet cutthroat. Anastasia would die for her country. Anya would die for her friends.
Anastasi...
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Anya crouched down on the dirty ground of the dock, twirling her dagger between her fingers. She'd had Nina turn her hair a dirty shade of blonde. When Kaz had given her a funny look, she'd muttered something about not wanting other pirates to recognize her at sea - both she and Nina knew it had more so been done to hide away from any curious Ravkan eyes.
"You know, when my father sent me off to University, the last thing he told me was to watch out for cutthroats and pirates," Jesper announced. "I thought I'd be able to at least stick to half of that promise."
"Sorry to disappoint good old Mr. Fahey," Anya smirked, running a finger over the brim of her hat. "If it makes you feel any better, I've never been Captain of my own ship - and I've never actually killed anyone for money either."
"Oh, she's a saint," Matthias muttered under his breath, eyebrows twitching nervously as he continuously glanced over at Nina.
Well Matthias, Anya thought, in some parts of the world I am. Nina stifled a laugh.
They were only waiting for Inej now. The Wraith was running late, and the Wraith was never late.
"Maybe she's lost her touch," Jesper laughed nervously.
"She'll be here," Kaz cut him off, voice as grating as ever. "Have some faith, Fahey."
"Did Kaz "Dirtyhands" Brekker just crack a joke or am I dreaming," Anya giggled, scanning the horizon. "Actually, don't answer that - I know I'm dreaming."
Kaz's face remined stoic as always, but Anya swore that the right hand corner of his mouth twitched ever so slightly. It was strange, seeing Kaz without his tailored suit - much like Jesper, Wylan and Matthias, he dressed up as a sailor. She found that the longer she analyzed him, the more she missed his clean cut merchant's wear - he just looked off. Then again, Kaz could wear a spinster's frock and still somehow scare the shit out of any seasoned soldier.
When he turned to meet her gaze, Anya refused to look away, raising an eyebrow in defiance. She'd never dare touch, but nothing was stopping her from looking for as long as she pleased. Before either of them could look away, a scream rung through the eerily quiet air. "Kaz!"
