Talons⛥Kaz Brekker

⛥𝔗𝔴𝔢𝔫𝔱𝔶⛥

Three weeks. Three weeks since Matthias had died. Three weeks since it's all been over. Three weeks since I've seen Kaz. I've been wanting to leave, but I wanted to say goodbye to him. Me, Inej, Jesper and Wylan decided to stay at Wylan's house. I think Wylan was enjoying the company. Kaz had gone back to the Barrel. We had sent a couple notes back and forth, but just small ones that talked about what was happening in the city. We hadn't talked about our relationship since the night Kaz came into my room. I wasn't sure if he even wanted to.

I didn’t think I could make it up the stairs to bed. How had I whiled away so many hours at dinner with Inej, Jesper and Wylan? The cook had been all apologies as the meal was served that night. We had stuffed ourselves on cheese and leek pie, then eaten honey-soaked cakes while sitting on the music room floor. Wylan’s mother had retired early. She seemed to be coming back to herself in fits and starts, but I suspected it would be a long road. Wylan played the piano and Jesper sang the dirtiest sea shanty I had ever heard. They'd often get me to join in. I missed Nina painfully. There had been no letters, and I could only hope my friend had made it to Fjerda safely and found some peace on the ice. When I finally found a ship,  I planned on making my first trip Ravka. I could journey in land to Os Alta, see Nina again. Someday. I’d been researching sailing vessels. But  tonight,  all I wanted to contemplate was sleep. I dragged myself  up  the  stairs  and  crawled  into  my deliciously comfortable bed.

Only when I’d reached over to turn down the lamp did I  see  the  note—a  sealed  letter  in  Kaz’s  messy  scrawl. Sunrise.  Fifth Harbor. Of course he’d managed to get into the locked house, past the servants and the four fools singing at the top of their lungs. It was only fair, I supposed. Inej had been coming and going at the Slat, slipping in and out of windows and doorways, leaving my notes for Kaz when I asked her to and returned with his for me. I could have gone myself or knocked on his office door, but it was easier this way.

Kaz had changed. The pictures of me. Protecting me from myself in the alley. Stopping my father from looking at me. I could still feel the faint touch of his lips on my skin, his bare hands fumbling with the knots of my bandages. I could still feel the warmth of his lips on my own and the rhythm of his thumbs rubbing against my legs and side. I had seen the scant glimmer of what he might become if he let himself. I couldn’t bear to see him dressed in armor once more, buttoned back into his immaculate suits and cold demeanor. I wouldn’t listen to him talk as if the Ice Court and everything that came after had been just another job, another score, another bit of advantage to be gained.

But I wouldn’t ignore his note. It was time to put an end to this thing that had never had a chance to begin. I’d tell him what I’d heard about Pekka, offer to share some of my routes and hiding spots with Roeder. It would be over. I turned down the light, and after a long while, I fell asleep with the note clutched in my hand. It was hard to force myself from bed the next morning. I’d developed bad habits in the last three weeks—sleeping when I wanted to, eating when I liked. Nina would be proud. Being at Wylan’s house felt like I’d reentered some kind of enchanted world. I haven't lived like this in years, it felt illegal. I'd been disowned out of this life. I found myself embarrassed by the pleasure of being waited on again, and yet, Van Eck’s staff seemed glad to have us there. Maybe they’d feared Wylan would close up the house and they’d all lose their employment. Or maybe they thought Wylan deserved some kindness.

One of the maids had set out a lapis silk robe and a little pair of fur-lined slippers by the side of the bed. There was hot water in the pitcher by the basin, a glass bowl full of fresh roses. I washed, brushed out my hair then dressed and quietly let myself out of the house—through the front door, of all things. I moved swiftly as I made my way to the harbor. The streets were still largely empty, especially at this hour of the morning, but I knew I could not let down my guard. My knives were tucked into my coat, my coat was tied tightly to my body. Pekka Rollins was gone. Van Eck was in jail. But as long as Kaz had enemies on these streets, I did too.