Stars ― Kaz Brekker

03. bleed red, blush scarlet

THE NEXT EVENING, as her friends liberate a Fjerdan prisoner, Estera wanders down to the boardinghouse on the outskirts of the Barrel, a cup of coffee in each hand. Transferring them both to one arm, she picks up a pebble from the gravel leading up to the rickety front door. She tosses it up into the air, guiding it with a gentle breeze to the correct window. It hits harmlessly against the glass panel, but it's loud enough to gain the attention of the occupant inside. 

A moment later, the window opens and a head of familiar ruddy curls cautiously pokes his head out, looking down. 

"Estera?" Wylan says. 

"No, it's the Boogeyman." 

Wylan shoots her an unimpressed look. Estera sends up a cold wind to wipe it off his face, smiling at his startled expression. 

"Kidding," she says. "Kaz is off wreaking havoc at Hellgate." 

"Hellgate?" Wylan stammers. 

"Mhmm," Estera confirms. "He's got a job for you. Demo work, little arts and crafts. Now, are you going to come down here or am I supposed to drink both of these coffees?" 

A minute later, Estera and Wylan are walking back toward the Crow Club, sipping on their hot beverages. 

"What's the job?" Wylan asks, trying not to make a face as he sips his coffee. He still hasn't gotten much of a taste for it, but he's stubborn enough to keep trying. It isn't like they serve tea much in the Barrel, anyway. 

"Kaz'll explain when we're all together," Estera assures him. "Besides, I'm too pretty to keep track of all the details." There's a beat of silence, and she says, "This is where you agree that, yes, Estera, you are too pretty for such menial tasks." 

"I'm pretty sure Kaz would kill me if I said that," Wylan says nervously. 

Estera resists the urge to roll her eyes. "Kaz wouldn't care," she says, and hates how much she believes it. "I'm trying to help you better your flirtations. Can't exactly woe someone if you swoon like a merchant's wife whenever anyone so much as looks at you." 

His cheeks are predictably flushed. "Who's on the job?" he asks—a clear attempt to shift the course of their conversation. 

"The usual suspects," Estera answers. "Us, Kaz, Inej, Nina. Jesper." She waggles her eyebrows suggestively at the ruddy-haired boy. 

Wylan's face turns redder. "What do I care if Jesper's on the job?" he scoffs, taking sudden interest in his coffee. 

"I think you care a great deal," she teases. "Bleed red, blush scarlet, I leave all my love to my raven-haired harlot. I think Siske Kip wrote that line specifically for you."

"Are you calling Jesper a harlot?" Wylan asks.

"He'd take it as a compliment." Estera nods a greeting to the bouncer standing outside of the Crow Club, slipping into the building with Wylan trailing behind her. She heads up to the preordained meeting room, wondering if the others are already back. Probably—the coffee had put her a bit off-schedule. "A word of advice, my darling Wylan: do try not to swoon every time he speaks you. He's ego's already bigger than the entirety of the Wandering Isle." 

"Shut up!" he pleads in a hiss as they approach the door. 

She stifles a laugh. "All in good fun, Wy," she assures him. "Although if you want help wooing him, I could help you write you a love note? Something you can set to music?"

Before he can respond to that, she knocks thrice on the door. 

Kaz looks unimpressed as he opens the door. "You're late."