Chapter Text
Inej
Inej had witnessed apathy. Lived underneath it, breathed its air, dangerously danced on the edge of it, perhaps she might’ve fallen into its grasp if not for her dedication to faith. Never had it been so undoubtably etched into someone’s face before. Like a small indent in an otherwise flawless clay sculpture of a man. Perhaps it was the emptiness in his eyes, the stubborn line of his mouth as though his lips were stitched together, or maybe the sallowness of his cheekbones and the paleness of his face. She might have thought him breathtakingly beautiful if not so terrified under the weight of his attention.
It was quite feasible that this man wasn’t real. Inej must have fallen asleep on the train and hadn’t awoken. The man was terrifyingly striking, the epitome of authority, even before superiors. Eye-catching, yet in a way that hooks you in for eternity. Caught but never released. Inej found herself unable to look away even as the thin line of his lips lifted into something dissatisfied.
“Who is this?”
“Why, Inej Ghafa, of course!” Haskell proclaimed to them all, his ringed fingers digging into her shoulder. “All the way from Lij.”
“She looks Ravkan to me,” an irrelevant member of this introduction cut in.
“I am of Suli descent, sir,” Inej inclined her head, the gesture earning boastful laughs.
Hoping the powder Nina had layered on her face would conceal her flush, she straightened herself. Refusing to dip her head again, she succumbed to the burning heat of a gaze sizzling at her cheek. Kaz hadn’t removed his attention from her, vacant eyes boring into her without a guise of interest. In fact, despite his expressionless exterior, something written in his face told her she was unwelcome. Inevitably, she’d dropped her eyes, too uncomfortable to transfix on anything aside from the wood panel floors.
“She is to be staying at the manor for a while,” Haskell informed them all proudly. “As a favour for her aunt.”
Inej’s face scrunched in bafflement. “But, I thought-”
“You thought wrong,” the voice thick as stone sliced through the discussion in a decisive end. In response to his unprincipled and frankly rude conclusion, there were shuffling feet and shared glances. The Commander seemed unbothered, his black-gloved hand curled around the artistic curve of the crow’s head. Upon moving it, the thud against the ground from the metal ferrule reverberated around the room once again, silencing them like a temple gong. “Haskell, you’re downright flushed, are you not?”
The tonal switch was so sudden, Inej believed his words had given her whiplash. His once clouded expression wasn’t smoothed, but loosened somehow into a satirical expression so calculated that Inej felt her shoulder seize. This observation was not shared by those accompanying her as they visibly relaxed and introduced good nature back into the room.
“Well, I-” Haskell cupped a hand to his face. “You are certainly right, I am.”
“Drinking without eating will do that to you,” Kaz raised an accusatory finger, waving it like a scolding mother. “Let’s continue to the dining room, I’m sure my chef has finished preparations,” his voice bewitching a command to the room.
A rumble of agreements rippled through the crowd and guided them back toward the staircase Inej had just climbed to be there. In the sea of men, Inej remained stationed, paused in time within the passage of movement, blurred faces of visitors, and she became lost to the masses. Haskell had long abandoned her. The intelligent thing would be to move with the crowd, but under the heat and pressure of shoulders, Inej feared she might drown. Allowing the river to flow, she waited, and as the crowd parted, she was not alone.
He had still overtaken her, as though he’d started with the crowd then thought better of it. The cusp of his boot was tapped with the cane methodically. Upon momentary observation, Inej came to realise he was counting. If it were any other individual of whom she hadn’t heard the most outlandish descriptions about, she’d label him odd. But that was already done for her. In a final tap, his cane clicked back to the ground, and Kaz’s shift creaked the floorboards beneath. Unsure of how to approach the man, especially when she was unattended, she followed silently behind. From there, she could at least further discern him, most interestingly, his apparent limp.
Atop the stairs, in an orderly and careful manner, he grabbed the railing and lifted his cane in a swift movement to hold it under his armpit. After a moment of watching him take each stair at a time, with shaking hands and a pounding heart, she neglected the newfound sensation of terror and spoke.
“I can help you.”
The stair creaked sharply, like a singular lightning strike. Had she not been staring so intently at him, she wouldn't have otherwise noticed the muscles in his shoulders tighten and a slight hitch in his breath. Unbeknownst to her was why he faced her with an echo of a sentiment in his desolate, black eyes. He was surprised.
Still at the foot of the stairway, Kaz’s head was tilted up to where she stood. Although she was elevated, he still seemed to tower over her. In the blink of an eye, a click of a glass, and a creak of a stair, the sentiment was gone. His face overcast with stoicism, he looked at her plainly.
“You’re early.”
Then he continued down the stairs.
—˙⋆✮⋆˙—
Maintaining a similar theme to the Commander's other interiors, the dining hall shouted wealth from it’s wood-paneled walls. The table was unnecessarily long for someone supposedly living alone, although it fit the extensive guest list that night. It was decorated modestly, with lit candles divided evenly in the centre, although the chandelier above was lighting enough. Despite the generous illumination, the room retained a warm atmosphere, reflected by the previous obnoxious laughter dwindling into calm chatter.
With Kaz at the head of the table, Inej sat to his left. Overgenerously, might she add, reported in the perplexed stares from guests. And notes of jealousy that left her queasy.
Kaz didn’t acknowledge her esteemed position at the table, primarily because he didn’t acknowledge her at all. All his conversations passed her by, never involving or initiating an exchange with her. Had she not prepared for this behaviour, she might’ve felt deeply offended.
Secretly, she was pleased not to have to socialise. Although in one instance, she believed him to be inconsiderate when he gestured at the pepper beside her without a glance and expected her to pass it to him. Otherwise, she sat quietly in her corner, watching foreign exchanges with men whose names she didn’t know. She’d lived this evening many times before. A rational voice in her mind reminded her that the night wouldn’t end the same way.
Until her seclusion was breached.
“So you are from Ravka?” A man beside her nudged with his elbow. After starting abruptly at his sudden interest in a woman who’d been beside him all night, she addressed him, watching him shove an unreasonable portion of steak into his mouth.
“Yes,” she said, stumbling for a further response. Instantaneously she was reminded of her recent drought in social interaction. It was by far her weakest domain as a lady. “Erm, have you been?”
He chuckled. “Long ago,” he dragged his serviette across his mouth, chewing obnoxiously. “I’d like to go back someday. It was nice.”
She nodded appreciatively, as if the compliment was for herself. Though born in Ravka, she’d moved to Lij before she preserved any memories of youth there. She’d visited frequently throughout her childhood and was still deeply connected to life there. Living in Kerch was unfamiliar, even though it was supposed to be home. Her father had once told her that their backyard was their own little Ravka. And she had to admit, it resembled it much more than the little Ravka in Ketterdam.
“I do wish to go there again soon,” she said, casting her eyes downward at her plate.
“Next time I go, I’d like to go summering,” he spoke eagerly. “When I visited, it was for a military campaign.”
“You still treated it like an all-expense holiday, though, Muzzen.”
Kaz must have just concluded his dull conversation about the market and tuned into her own. Muzzen wheezed out a self-deprecating laughter as though Kaz had enchanted him to. When Inej looked into his eyes, they were hypnotizing in a way that explained why Muzzen reacted like this. Though she did not laugh along, only watched. She’d been successfully removed from the conversation and soon lost interest in whatever memory the two men were reliving together. Shifting her gaze down the table, she watched Jesper entertain all those around him with his animated movements and wild stories.
Reaching over, she took a sip of her untouched wine. It was torturous to the tongue and tasted of wasted Kruge. Flaring her nose, she placed it back on the table.
“Is it not to your liking?” A sly voice, leaking with suspicion, questioned her.
The host had once again taken notice of her happenings. But not in a fashion that would make a girl swoon. His gaze was challenging and intimidating, a look that could send her deep into an insanity from which she couldn’t return. Shrinking from his attention, the moisture and colour from her skin were sucked, and she cleared her throat.
“I don’t drink often,” her mind only offering her the bland truth of the matter.
“The wine is from a distillery just outside Ketterdam, prestigious in its faction,” he bragged in a way he didn’t need to. “I’ll have to inform Van Eck of your distaste.”
“I don’t dislike it,” Inej hurriedly refuted, attempting not to seem outraged at his accusation. She hated the satisfaction growing behind his eyes, wishing for his initial disinterest. Judging from his own wine glass, maybe eating wasn’t the solution for the drunkenness of men.
“Ah,” his answer escaped as barely a whisper.
Leaning back into his chair, he lifted his glass to his lips for a sip. With a challenging brow raised, he flattened his hand to gesture to her wine glass.
Inej usually prided herself on her composure, on the self-control she’d taught herself once her father could no longer protect her from her mistakes. After an hour of meeting this man, she was already dancing on the brink of irritation. Perhaps it was the look in his eyes, or the attention he’d gained her from the rest of the table, but her gaze suddenly grew vicious. Blinking away her accidental lapse, she shifted her eyes and complied with a sip, threatening to shatter the glass beneath her grip. The wine was just as bitter, and with restraint, she managed not to make a face.
As she placed it back down and glanced down the table, all eyes fell to their respective plates on cue. Humiliation burning at her neck, she did the same, her fists clenched just above her knee. Then came nothing. The host had again lost interest in her and engaged a man in conversation halfway down the table, who was earnest in his response. While grateful he’d adverted from testing, or rather torturing her, his dismissiveness now seemed personal.
Was this what Specht had meant by expecting attention? Was she already falling into the trickery? Casting a look down the table, she’d hoped to catch Jesper’s eye for the first time that night, but instead she realised that the discussion was now involving the entire dining hall.
“What about the election, Brekker?” The man asked, his question casting a shadow around the room. “They say Rollins is set to win for his third term. Are you still intending to run?”
There was a creak of the chair legs as Kaz sat back, seeming to mirror his immediately thinned patience. Again, she wondered whether the others noticed this.
“Yes, well, alas, my injury will debilitate me from remaining Commander,” Kaz tapped his thigh before resuming his soothing of it. He rested his other elbow on the chair arm and rubbed his chin. “It had crossed my mind.”
There was a collection of mutterings at the table. They resembled journalists, leaning forward to catch a good headline for the paper.
“Of course, I’d need to decide soon on a campaign that rivals Rollins’,” he circled his chin with his gloved hands. It was then that she noticed he had not removed them for dinner. She frowned at the oddity. “He’s known for extravagance.”
“Well, you’re known for your strategising. I’m sure you could compete,” vocalised a squeaky voice from an overly intoxicated man. Still, he earned the approval of most of the table. Inej recognised him as the doorman.
“My utmost gratitude to you, Rotty,” Kaz raised his glass. The man only hiccupped. “While your support is appreciated, your votes are not those that are counted. But rather, the councilmen.”
“Well, I’m sure you are aware of my connections to Karl Dryden,” another man raised. “He’s young and not all that influential, but he can get your name echoed around the chamber.”
“Mhm, and you can earn the liking of the departments, ministers are required to reflect their opinions,” a bearded guy said. “Technically, they aren’t allowed to show bias.”
“The Merchant Council isn’t infamous for fairness,” Kaz joked darkly, his statement not earning the same laughter as his previous riddles.
“You’ve got a better chance than anyone,” Muzzen from beside Inej encouraged. “Ghezen knows Rollins has been in the position much too long.”
This final remark sent Kaz into deep consideration, where he almost left his body entirely. While his eyes might’ve been vacant earlier, they were utterly concentrated that made him almost not entirely himself anymore. He only remained rubbing his thigh methodically up and down, until he exhaled deeply and sat up as though to address.
“Who here would be willing to support me?”
The question was simple to everyone present in that room, and an almost unanimous agreement rose to the volume they retained in the sitting room. Silence followed their vows, Kaz seeming to mentally note their willingness as a sign of entrustment in him. She wondered what he had done to earn this respect, this admiration. Kaz had thus far been little more than a menace to Inej. Yet, the majority of the men and a few women down the table seemed just about ready to take a bullet to the shoulder for him. Though she supposed that, as soldiers, this kind of loyalty was required.
“Well, in that case,” Kaz grabbed his wine glass again, dramatically pausing as he drank. “I guess I should run.”
The volume now exceeded all. The night seemed much more monumental than premeditated. While she’d based her predictions on the assumption that people were aware Inej was his fiancée, Kaz did not seem to have trusted many people with this information. Or anyone outside of the actual operation, for that matter. No, the night was for a much more deliberate personal gain on Kaz’s part.
While the others cheered and discouraged his hesitation in the election, it quickly became painstakingly obvious that Kaz had never doubted his enrollment. He had been characterised as a strategist by Rotty, and it was frankly impossible to know the depth of his schemes. These clear indicators had Inej unconvinced that nothing that came out of Kaz’s mouth wasn’t deceitful. She even began to second-guess the marriage itself.
As Kaz brazenly mentioned his plans for the election, it grew tiresome deciphering what was honest, a half-truth, or a blatant lie. Inej soon became exhausted. The sun had long set; the night should have been concluding, though not a person moved to leave or gave any symptom of fatigue. It wasn’t long before Inej feared she might doze off at the dinner table if she did not leave hastily. While Kaz was casually explaining the inner workings of the different factions of defence and the influences on voting, Inej slipped out of her seat and followed the direction she had seen the maids take when their meals were provided.
Her presence initially went unnoticed in the kitchen until an older-looking woman turned and jolted, releasing a shriek. Gaining the attention of all the other women, they paused their scrubbing and drying to look at her. Inej winced.
“I’m incredibly sorry,” Inej slouched over and grabbed the dropped towel. “It’s just I-”
Her words died on her tongue as exhaustion overcame her. Along with fatigue was a slackened rein on her emotions. Shutting her eyes to force down the full force of her misery, she swallowed and inhaled through her nose to try again. “I’m just quite tired,” she admitted pathetically.
Playing with a loose strand of fabric from the cloth, she fought the urge to toss herself through the window and run until her feet bled. She did not move. After a fleeting moment, she felt a warm, though damp, hand rest on her shoulder. “My Saints, you look sickly,” the old woman tutted. “And exhausted, you must come along. Angelia, take my station, won’t you?”
“Yes, Ma’am,” a girl swiftly hurried from the opposite side.
Two hands on either of her shoulders, Inej was led out by the woman, rubbing warmth back into her arms. Inej could only hang her head as something lodged in her throat like shame. Unsure of where she was being led, the woman left Inej at the foot of the staircase before rushing over to the doorway, where her luggage had been abandoned. Only in seeing it held by the woman did Inej realise how small it was. How little her life was to be able to fit in small compartments. Or just how much she had been forced to leave behind. Inej was tired in a way that sleep wouldn’t fix.
“I haven’t introduced myself,” the woman lugged the baggage over. “I am the household's head maid, Natalia.”
“Nice to meet you, Natalia,” Inej bowed, remaining with her head hung. The old woman heaved a sigh.
“Darling, if there is anything you-”
“Inej?” A familiar charismatic voice vibrated around the centre room, enhanced by the tiles. She then noticed that the dinner had come to an end. “Did you leave?”
Jesper’s question confirmed she was able to escape inconspicuously, although this was deemed pointless since everything concluded anyway. The man made his way over, and the other departing guests clung to each other, keeling over, headed toward the open door held by Rotty, who had reached it first. Inej’s vision of the proceedings was soon blocked by Jesper’s tall frame, who, despite his naturally lanky appearance, towered over her. She hadn’t noticed the physical advantage he had over her, only assisting in furthering her anxiety. She cursed her hazy brain, as she knew this man was harmless.
“Are you alright?” He asked sincerely, eying her luggage.
Blinking, she nodded. His silence told her this wasn’t enough. “Yes, just…” she glanced at her new head maid, who was watching her intently. “Tired.”
“Ah, traveller's fatigue,” the Zemini man split into a grin. “I know the feeling.”
“I can’t imagine you tired,” Inej admitted sheepishly. At least he chuckled.
“Jesper,” Kaz called out, void of a tone. Soon, Jesper’s frame moved out of her way, revealing the Commander, resting heavily on his cane. “What are you doing?”
“Inej’s luggage,” Jesper suddenly reached over and lifted the bag Natalia could barely hold, effortlessly. “I’m bringing it to her room.”
“I’ll do it.” With a twist of his heel, Kaz was walking their way. “If traveller's fatigue is real, you would have it too.”
Jesper’s mouth wordlessly hung open, eyes switching between the oncoming Kaz and the stationary Inej. Unaware of the meaning behind the hassle, she considered sending them both on their way and carrying the luggage herself. She’d trekked across Kerch with it, had she not? What was a few stairs? No matter that her knees threatened to buckle.
Although it was explicit in the way Jesper shut his mouth and stepped aside, that Kaz’s words were law. Arguing would be a further pointless waste of the remaining energy. Grabbing her bag, Kaz didn’t gesture to her before him or acknowledge her at all. Even she wasn’t so tired to expect he’d be courteous.
“Goodnight, Jesper,” she dipped her head as he waved farewell. “When… when do you think you’ll be back?”
The question was as pitiful as the voice in which she delivered it. Her pride had expired. Jesper was one of the few who hadn’t drained her in their presence. If her future were here, and there was a possibility of friendship, she’d hope to be a worthy candidate for the man. It was very clear from dinner that he wasn’t in a similar drought of friendship as she was. She could only hope that his amiability wasn’t extended indiscriminately to all, and she was simply lonely enough to believe he deemed her noteworthy.
However, he smiled. “As soon as you’ll have me,” then he was off, a wink paired with his parting.
Upon his exit, it was abundantly clear that Kaz was not waiting for her. Bidding a brief farewell to Natalia, Inej scaled the stairs, attempting to recapture him in her eyeline. She reached the top of the stairs just as Kaz turned the handle to the room that must be hers. The relief that they would not be sharing a room, let alone a floor, allowed some leeway in how he had treated her that evening.
Her room was as regular as one could be. Off white bedsheets, a metal bedframe, and a singular window across the wall. There was a small wooden dresser beside a much larger closet, and the room was dimly lit by a lamp that Kaz had on. The streetlights leaked through the thick red curtains. It was modest, smaller than her childhood room, though she could not find a single word of complaint. It provided her with the one non-negotiable, privacy.
“Tomorrow morning,” he spoke, hoisting her luggage onto the dresser. “You will meet with Haskell and I. In my office.”
Addressing his words to her, he did not meet her gaze. Their proximity made her nervous. The setting, the time, the party, and now the bed before them, had not escaped her notice. She wondered if he detected her withdrawal, her back almost pressed to the wall beside the door. Any escape attempt would be futile. She belonged to his household now. Just as she couldn’t speak out against Heleen, she doubted she’d remain unscathed if denying him.
Then, he turned to face her, sparing her a glance, and remained where he was. He asked, “Would you like to ask where the office is?”
Blinking, a prickle of sweat formed on her forehead. The room was much too hot for her liking, even with the door wide open. “Where is your office?”
Instead of instantaneously responding, he shifted his attention to the drawn curtain. “Find Natalia; she will assign a driver to you. Have you heard of the barrel?”
“I haven’t heard of the barrel.”
Something in the shift of his posture told her the question had pleased him, or rather amused him. Looking back at her, he withdrew the drape and revealed a beautiful city skyline just beyond his hedges. The view was gorgeous, though her attention fell more disappointedly to the lifeless space that was his backyard. As blank and emotionless as his eyes. Too tired to conceal much more, her shoulders slouched in disappointment, no longer stiff with tension like a proper soldier.
“The heart of the city,” he told her, letting the curtain drop. His voice no longer carried the tone of satisfaction, only one of indifference. Perhaps slightly annoyed. “We’ll discuss more there.”
His word was final, and he strode across the room. Unable to stop her muscles from seizing as he neared. He left her feeling unreasonable. Kaz had not touched her. Never having insinuated he might, she felt near idiotic that she assumed his intentions. This was Inej’s first party that finished with only her own body wrapped in her bedsheets. Something about this simple achievement had hidden something in the confines of her heart, similar to planting a seed. What might grow from it, she was not sure. Though she knew with proper care, it had the potential to be as beautiful as flowers in the Spring. She could only hope the soil of her heart wasn’t so toxic and ruined that it might die before blooming.
—˙⋆✮⋆˙—
She awoke groggily. Usually blessed with proper rest provided by the quiet, mundane country, Inej had not prepared for lively city sounds. The city did not wait for her, and it was cruel in its wakefulness. Vehicle engines screamed down the street, bells of operating trams sang out their arrival, and worst was the boisterous nature of early morning conversation. Inej knew Ketterdam as a major city, a Capital. Perhaps she had trusted too heavily in Jesper’s insinuation that the manor lived on the outskirts of it all. The city was not something to be avoided.
The haze of travel fatigue had ceased its possession of her body and now loomed above, though she suspected it would not survive the week. Stretching so her arms circled up to her head, she rolled onto her stomach and peevishly noted the room’s absence of a clock. Rubbing her face, she fought valiantly against her itchy, drooping eyelids and sat up in her bed.
The room filtered through light from the morning, despite its purpose as a blackout. Again, she could not find herself a complaint about it. The room was bathed in a warm, sunny light that only the morning sky could blush upon in its brief glance at the moon. Tinged slightly orange from her curtains, and it was almost like sunrise. She doubted it was. But without a clock, it was impossible to tell.
Continuing her routine of stretches, her objective became clear. With no bathroom connected to her bedroom, she resorted to twisting doorknobs all down the hallway until one gave way. After a couple of mistrials of this flawed system, she found one. Uncertain whether the bathroom was hers, she examined the white-tiled room cautiously.
A pipe connected to the wall with a shower head protruding from it, and below was a bathtub. There was a certain luxury in choice. Upon further inspection, she found numerous unoccupied storage spaces, and everything, from the sink to the washroom itself, was spotless. Was she arrogant to believe this may belong to her? Unsure of her position in the household’s hierarchy, it was too early to be sure.
She used it anyway, grateful for the lock in case her vanity had acceded to her. Choosing her typical silks and shawl from her wardrobe, she had believed it might provide her with a sliver of home. Instead, she felt like a flagrant imbecile who hadn’t been informed of the dress code. Placing her felt Gainsborough hat on, she only hoped it was enough to blend her in with the rest. She may need to invest in a broader wardrobe. If the massive closet wasn’t a hint enough.
Finding Natalia was easier than any other task she’d accomplished that morning, as Inej only had to open her door.
“Oh, dear!” Natalia shrieked in surprise. Inej sheepishly shrank, guilty for the scare. “I’m sorry, I thought you were still resting.”
“No, I… well, I was about to search for you,” Inej clasped her hands in front of her. The woman brightened.
“Brilliant, very punctual,” she commended, peering past the doorframe. “Could I-?”
“Oh, yes, of course,” Inej moved the obstruction her body created. The woman smiled and crept inside, seeming nervous about overstepping. Her respect for her boundaries had pleasantly surprised Inej. In fact, from the time she’d spent in the manor, not once had she been intruded upon. Although her time had been limited thus far.
The woman inspected the room, announcing her results with a clear sigh. “My, not an object out of place. You’ve even folded your sheets,” she placed her hands on her hips. Raising a pointed brow at the dresser, the expression became advisory, “You must unpack soon. It helps with settling in.”
“I haven’t had the time,” Inej defended shyly, not wanting to admit she’d passed out the minute Kaz had exited her room. “I’ll do it after the meeting.”
“Oh no,” Natalia denied, drawing open the curtains. “I received a budget from Mister Brekker. We are set to go shopping afterwards.”
“Shopping?” Inej frowned in contemplation. It was though her thoughts were written above her head for all to read. Had she not just been thinking of expanding her wardrobe? “For clothes?” She confirmed. The woman laughed abrasively, not dignifying Inej with a response.
“We’ll leave in an hour and…” whipping her head around animatedly, her hand rested under her chin. “By Saints, we must buy you a clock as well.”
Inej waited patiently as the woman tapped her chin, mouthing the mental list she was curating in her mind. It wasn’t long before she returned to the world Inej awaited in, immediately guiding her toward the kitchen. While the Ghafa house had hired cooks and maids, her family was modest before all. Her father believed in accountability and remaining capable, while her mother took pride in her cooking. There had been people to accompany Inej in tasks, though she’d viewed them more as peers rather than employees. Getting breakfast made for her was certainly an out-of-the-ordinary treat, but she had every intention of expressing her wish for the responsibility of household chores. Especially cooking.
Unable to extract coherent words of protest, Inej ate alone at the head of the large and empty dining table. Ghosts of laughter still lingered, and Inej felt obliged to barge through the same kitchen escape door from the prior night. However, Natalia was adamant about treating her as an esteemed guest. So Inej remained alone for the majority of the morning, facing the once lively chairs now uninhabited as she sat as host.
“We’ll leave within the hour,” Natalia panted as she vigorously scrubbed where Inej had just eaten. She was almost insulted, being certain she hadn’t spilt a thing. “Traffic is heavy in the early morning. Especially in the Barrel.”
“I’m ready now,” Inej offered, curious to visit her new hometown.
“I’ll need to alert Rotty,” she said, disappearing behind her own eyes once again. “I hope Kaz isn’t displeased with our precedence. He doesn’t like being unprepared.”
Inej had gathered this very early in meeting him. He seemed largely irritated by Inej’s earliness and, furthermore, by her surprise on the stairs. She wondered if these two instances had already written her off as an inadequate fiancée. Not wanting to allow her deprecating worries to consume her first day in the city, she quickly spoke.
“I can speak with him,” she rose from her seat. “Please, I’d like to… settle in.”
Using her own words against her, Natalia was unable to deny Inej’s proposal. Soon, she was being led through the kitchen, now deserted and spotless. She continued the same route Inej had taken earlier, only turning left into a side door leading outside. Natalia rushed around in a constant state of distress, her frenetic movements naturally increasing Inej’s own anxiety. The day was bright, though in the distance she could see a looming cloud predicting an overcast. Although any reminders of the previous stormy day had vanished, not even lingering droplets on the protruding leaves of the hedges remained. Inej found herself displeased by this.
“Rotty, darling,” Natalia flailed her arms as the man came into view. He was beside another man, holding large pruning shears. Even from where Inej was standing, there was a deep blush that spread across his cheeks. His companion snorted away from Rotty, who marched toward the two with urgency.
“What is it, Mam?”
Mother? Inej failed miserably at concealing her surprise, even going so far as to release a small gasp. Natalia and her son took notice and spared a look. Straightening herself, they quickly resumed whatever kerfuffle they were about to begin.
“Have you forgotten?” Natalia appeared affronted. “You are set to drive us to the Commander’s office.”
Rotty ran his tongue across his teeth and theatrically pulled his sleeve up his arm to hold his watch in her face. “Half an hour from now?”
“Miss Ghafa wishes to go now,” Natalia remained stubborn and stern, crossing her arms definitively.
Not wishing to be involved, Inej intervened, “Oh, that was a suggestion…”
Rotty ignored her effort and tugged his sleeve back down, sputtering quietly to himself. “I have to ready the car,” he reminded.
Natalia waved him off, “That will take five minutes, Miss Ghafa and I will wait on the street.”
With an unhappy twist of his mouth, Rotty stormed back the way he’d come. Natalia waved to the gardener, and the man returned her greeting gladly. Inej awkwardly raised her hand only for the man to turn back around. Swallowing her embarrassment, she followed the head maid out of the garden gates. Even with employees from the Ghafa house, she found it considerably difficult to connect with them. She’d silently blamed Heleen, who’d changed the entire staff upon arrival. Although it was now clear, the fault lay entirely with Inej herself.
They waited patiently in the already bustling crowd. Inej was presently unaware of the time, though if she were to guess, she’d still believe early morning. People scurried past her with individual agendas, each having spent the last hour in a manner vastly different from hers. Some were clearly only just arriving home, while some were attending work. They all wore similar clothing, modern, buttons, boots, and elaborate hats. They all looked expensive. They all looked Kerch. Inej wished she hadn’t worn her silks. If she stood with her hat out to them all, she was sure they’d start donating spare change as though she were a performer.
Finally, Rotty pulled around in a contemporary vehicle. It was impressively clean, shiny. Inside, it even smelled new, looked pristine, and she began to feel out of place again. Rotty sat in the driver's seat, wearing an odd-looking hat, and his hand was placed on the gearshift.
“I’ll take the scenic route, for your interest, Inej,” Rotty declared as he pulled away. “And anyway, Kaz might have fit if you’re early again.”
So, he was upset about her early arrival the previous night. Pleased to have realised it, she was also nervous about what it entailed. If even Rotty had perceived this, who was incredibly drunk that night, what feelings had she invoked in Kaz that went unnoticed by both of them? She’d thought Rotty’s judgment was best. She promised to remember to be mindful whenever speaking with Natalia. Not wishing to protest against her wishes, Natalia would gladly lead them through fire upon Inej’s request.
The city was intriguing and soon recognisable with Rotty and his mother narrating each street. The buildings were taller than she’d ever witnessed, the roof out of view from Inej’s car window. The further into the city she went, the more she realised that perhaps she’d been too harsh on Jesper. The manor was almost puritanical compared to the confines of the barrel.
The sun had only just kissed the concrete jungle, yet she was certain it had never slept. She doubted the people ever did. Street markets were already fully functional, people had ordered their coffees, performers were getting their early tips, and the morning paper was already being flailed around by young boys.
Amongst the foreign delights of it all, Inej couldn’t help but notice those curled and twitching on the curb, rugged up beggars, and abandoned women asleep on stations. There was a layer of grim to the city, despite its appeal. She wondered how many of those sitting on the streets had arrived similar to her, so hypnotised by the fascinating liveliness that they forwent the glimpse into their awaiting future, rummaging in bins.
“This is the pleasure district. Most nightlife lives down there,” Rotty announced, pointing to a street inaccessible by car. “It’s only walkable, increases participation apparently. Or, that’s what Kaz once told me.”
Inej nodded, knowing she had no intention of ever having her soles touching that pavement. “Are we close to the Commander’s office?”
“Almost,” Rotty responded. “He bought a building not too far from this whole production. Didn’t pick him as the sentimental type, but apparently he grew up around here.”
“Grew up here?” Inej’s eyes fell upon a mother, hugging her son very close to her chest, hand outstretched for change. “How… awful.”
Rotty laughed. “Not impressed?”
“It’s certainly eye-catching,” Inej amended, drawing her eyes from the upsetting images of the streets and back up to the skyline. “Perhaps it’s better during the day. Or later at night.”
“The barrel is the barrel,” Natalia spoke now. “No matter the time.”
Inej didn’t doubt it. As they continued through, the more unsettled she became. Why would Kaz insist on having a property here? Why not closer to the merchant district, or the military base? Was there a sick sense of pride he got in seeing the streets lined with suffering below his luxurious building? Or did it just remind him of where he’d built from?
Inej could not waste her time deciphering the crossword of Kaz’s brain without all the clues. She’d need her wits during this meeting. Having the assumption she was an out-of-her-depth girl, Inej, so far, had the advantage. She would not roast her brain cells on her burning curiosity about Kaz’s past.
The arrival was further than she expected. While the office was still in the barrel, it was removed from the pleasure district. Beyond this, the traffic was utterly horrible. With the tram running through the central street, people would frequently dive before vehicles or cut across the street. Inej was sure she could’ve walked there faster. But she had no desire to ever be on these streets alone.
The Commander’s building itself was standard, disguised with duplicates matching on either side. Were she a bystander, she’d barely spare it a second glance. Though she assumed this was the point. The only outstanding detail was its height, exceeding its siblings on either side. Even then, it was not the tallest in the city. Inej was still dreading the stairs.
“I’ll be seeing ya,” Rotty winked, dipping his silly hat. Closing the door, Rotty began the surely tedious act of trying to get back onto the street. Natalia continued, not worrying about her son.
“Come on,” she insisted, waving Inej onward. Locking her arms, she felt they might be walking into a bustling crowd. As they entered through the door, she’d been correct.
While the swarms on the streets were disordered, within the building, it was perfect chaos. Coming from all directions, people merely swerved past each other, schedules before them. No one spared the two visitors a glance, irrelevant in their calendar. Inej was almost immediately overwhelmed with stress that was not her own. All looked like businessmen or spokespersons, not like soldiers. They all dressed corporately, like politicians wearing their suits of lies. They were most interesting, until Inej looked up. The building was gutted in the middle, with each office and floor available to the eye from the front door. She’d almost gasped, deeming this the most beautiful building she’d laid her eyes on, aside from the train terminal.
Natalia led her through the crowd, experienced in her manoeuvring. She’d been there before. Making it to the front desk, she smiled. “Evening, Anika,” she said, smoothing her hair.
The woman at the front desk was reading an excerpt from her mechanical typewriter resting on her desk. Her hair was cropped to her ears, displaying wonderfully stacked earrings. She was dressed most elegantly, in a tight blazer that wrapped around the waist and a skirt that fell just at her calf. Upon hearing the voice, she almost tossed the paper in the air with either delight or surprise. Which one? Inej could not tell. But Anika split into an elated grin.
“Ah, Natalia!” She cried. “It’s been too long.”
“It certainly has,” she tugged on her gloves, shoving them in her pocket. “We all missed you at the evening dinner.”
Anika rubbed her forehead wearily, “Yes, Pim told me it was a good night. You have to understand, I was completely under the water-”
“There is no need for an explanation, love,” Natalia reminded her motherly.
Anika blushed bashfully, chuffing the paper on the desk, then rolled her chair across the booth to them. Her eyes fell on Inej, “Is this…”
Natalia nodded, turning to Inej for her part. She dipped her head to the woman and said, “Pleased to meet you.”
“Oh, she is darling,” Anika gushed, resting her chin on both her hands. “They all said so.”
Inej wasn’t sure how to process the suggestion that the guests not only talked of her, but thought her ‘darling’. Her heart warmed at the relief she’d made a good impression, though her mind ran with what other things they might’ve discussed. Her face ended up displaying an odd grimace and bared teeth. Anika, who looked up with eyes of admiration, twisted her face into a concealing laugh.
“Oh, dear, Kaz better be careful with you,” Anika finally stood from her chair. “I assume you met Nina?”
“I- Well, yes, I did,” Inej frowned.
“Nina will kill him,” Anika smirked at Natalia and chuckled excitedly.
How much was each person in this office aware of where she’d been these past few days? It was slightly unnerving that every person she’d met with was well aware of who she was, while she had not a clue about them. They all assumed she was a visitor, being housed by Kaz. Well, that is what he’d announced to the table. Yet, Anika here was insinuating much more. Kaz’s operation was not only confusing her, but pulling the strings of her mind into knots.
Inej was led against the streaming river of workers toward what she assumed would be the stairs. However, they stopped before a birdcage room connected to the wall. Anika flashed a card to the man waiting inside, who then wordlessly unlocked the gate, and they all filed in. The silent man then twisted a lever, shaking the floor, and slowly they began to rise.
“Is this an elevator?” Inej breathed, believing her eyes were deceiving her.
“Yes, Ketterdam has all the latest technology of the new century,” Anika confirmed proudly.
“I was only aware of the prototype,” Inej continued, wishing she were closer to the door for a better view. “It seemed like a fairy tale.”
“Wait till you see our developments on the aeroplane,” Anika grinned. “A lot goes on under this roof.”
There was nothing she could say to that. When Inej was first informed that a soldier was present at the Ghafa house, she never would have predicted to be using an elevator in the Capital city. And Kaz had constructed this building? Was he not just a Commander? Kerch was in an era of peace; had he decided to dip his fingers into all areas of business? His power became apparent to her, along with her insignificance. Why did he need an arranged marriage? Let alone with someone of her background? The weight of this meeting now hung heavily on her shoulders.
In a swift movement, the man screeched the lever to the other side again, jolting it to a stop. Opening the gate, Anika guided them to the left, revealing to Inej that they were on the highest floor. Soon after reaching an office farthest from the elevator, Anika tapped the door with her knuckles, all easygoingness dissipating. Inej mimicked this sentiment.
“Anika! You’re looking wonderful,” Haskell exclaimed moments after opening the door. His attention shifted to Inej, his energy somehow multiplying. “Inej! My, your silks are breathtaking today.”
“Thank you, sir,” she forced a grin. Haskell now looked to Natalia, offering only a vague smile. Never before this point had Inej despised him more.
“Inej, you are…” he trailed off, eying his watch. “Early yet again.”
“Only by ten minutes,” she opposed, tilting her head to the clock on the wall.
“Early is early,” a cool voice chimed in. Inej felt Anika stiffen, as though Kaz’s tone was unexpected. Inej was already habituated to it, concerning her again of her impression. This meeting was growing increasingly sombre by the minute.
Haskell forcibly coughed, “Anika, do you mind entertaining her escort in the kitchen? I’ll lead Inej down when we are done.”
“Yes, sir,” Anika saluted, the first reminder of the militant background of the establishment. Inej felt a hand clasp hers briefly, turning as Natalia squeezed it before leaving. She was left defenceless.
“Come in, come in,” Haskell widened the door for Inej. She complied, careful as she stepped from the red carpet of the level into the hardwood floor of the office.
It was as she expected. Traditional, yet somehow modest in its appearance. What was surprising was the brightness of the room, natural light soaking the otherwise dark interior. The room was large, as expected, with parallel burgundy couches closest to the window, and a large desk on which the Commander was hunched over. Behind him was a wall of medals, a display crafted by two large bookshelves on either side.
He didn’t raise his head as she arrived, nor stop his scribbling. Haskell guided her to the closest couch. Were she not so nervous, perhaps she could’ve appreciated the view from the highest floor, with the sun poking from behind another building and an endless ocean just before the harbour encompassed with ships, distant figurines.
As she returned her focus to the working man, he had folded his writing book and now observed her, leaning forward on his desk. She tried her best to conceal any influence his gaze had on her.
“Are you always so premature?” He asked, his voice slick with ridicule.
Playing with her thumbs in her lap, she responded, “I believe it’s better than being late.”
“What about just being on time?” He arched a brow.
“I had nothing else to do this morning,” Inej replied honestly, despite the humiliation in the fact. Kaz was not moved by it, nor did he see pity in it.
“Could you not have slept? Jesper diagnosed you with traveller’s fatigue,” His gaze mocking as he approached her. “I thought someone from Lij would appreciate the new terminology.”
The insult did not escape her, and before her better judgment, she snipped, “I thought someone from Ketterdam would appreciate being a step ahead.”
The man was not phased, though she felt Haskell beside her sniff in what communicated awkwardness. Kaz took a seat on the opposing couch, resting his leg on the lower table before them and hanging his arm over the back.
“Do not feel you must go to such lengths to impress me,” he finally replied. Inej felt a similar irritation from the previous night emerge. “Anyhow, you are lucky today has been dull. Haskell?”
Inej’s attention was then dragged from a growing hatred of the man to the matter at hand. Beside her, Haskell placed a folder on the table. The two men collectively stared at her, their eyes informing her she’d do best to study whatever was inside. As she unclipped it open, a picture fell from it. Her blood ran cold upon realising she was staring at herself.
“This is me,” she stated, unable to bury her unease.
“Yes, the whole folder is on you,” Kaz admitted, studying her carefully.
Inej met his challenging gaze, “Why?”
His eyes shifted lazily from Inej to Haskell, as though he was above explaining this all to her. The old man turned to her frankly, “You were approached only days ago by Specht and Pim, who informed you of why you are here. To marry.”
The reminder of it all deepened the emptiness in her heart and stomach. The black hole was sucking away any awe that the building and the days of travel had given her. She nodded.
“This is not known to everyone,” he explained. “Not by most in the building or by all at the dinner last night.”
Inej was aware of this. She had come to realise that she was a pawn. There was a reason Kaz had gathered all those in the defence department the night of her arrival, why he’d confirmed his intentions of running for the council. The reason those unaware of her existence before her entrance were also those most surprised by his announcement. She considered all she’d observed that night, the possible lies on Kaz’s tongue, the false damnation of his chance at being elected. She’d sensed the manipulation, having lived under it for the past years.
“This is about the election?” She almost stated, not appreciating how slow Haskell was in revealing information.
The man blinked in surprise. “Well, I-yes…” he shot Kaz a disoriented look upon the breaking of his script. The Commander leaned forward to resume his dialogue.
“Yes,” he confirmed. “I need a wife, someone foreign from here, unknown to all. And I need to be wed before the election.”
Inej squinted her eyes as she considered his admission. “Do members of the merchant council require wives?”
He began the notion of rubbing his leg, “Most do, though it isn’t necessary. For me, it’s more than that. There are rumours, words that ring some truth and can affect the outcome of the election. Your presence can squash them.”
Inej wished to ask what gossip he referenced, though she feared he’d deny this information. Also, this would be a waste of her breath, as it didn’t matter why, only how.
“What would be my purpose beyond this?” She asked now, curating a series of questions in her mind. “Would I still… fulfil my wifely duties?”
She was sure he understood her as he became more genuine than he had been before. “Everything about this marriage is about appearance and reputation,” he explained. “Anything that happens behind manor walls is irrelevant. We’d only appear together publicly. And as for the duty you are referring to, I’ll have false medical records proclaim your inability to conceive. We’d inconspicuously release them once suspicions are raised. Media will be brutal, but if we act right, the story will be for the ages.”
“The story?” She repeated.
“Our love story,” a quirk on his lips told her how comical he thought this all. “Beyond these rumours, noblewomen adore a romance. And noblemen love to please their wives. You can get me into dinner with these merchants, businessmen, and anyone who has a say in the election. I need to be in both newspapers and gossip columns. I need to be everywhere, and you’d get me there. Alas, there are many benefits to having a wife.”
It was almost too good to be true. A marriage without its aspects? Duties without the harmful kind? This marriage was one that only a girl who’d only undergone what Inej had could dream of. Did he know this? How much did he truly know of her? All these answers were inside her folder. She knew she wasn’t the only candidate; however, she was the favoured one.
“Then why not search for a real love story?” Inej countered. “Why settle for a loveless, fruitless marriage with no chance of a predecessor?”
“As I said, the rumours ring some truth. Fake marriage is more convenient,” he replied allusively, assuming she was aware of gossip in a city that was not her own. “You must understand I’m revealing a lot, despite having just met. I’m placing trust in you, still unaware of whether you are on board.”
After all she’d learned, Inej was most surprised by this. She had left her home, travelled by three trains, left in the care of unknown men, attended a party of strangers, slept in a bed that was not her own, for what? A choice she’d believed was not hers. All to find out now, miles from her family, she could decide whether to stay. “Did you not pay my aunt?” She frowned, aware of the stupidity in admitting she was unaware of her power.
“We did,” Haskell now cut in. “This is not the 19th century; you cannot be sold off. Ultimately, it is your decision.”
Overwhelmed by the stares of the two men before her, she lowered her eyes to her hands. Once acquainted with the domination Kaz had over most individuals she’d met, she feared her weakness was too evident. Yet, in a room with this influential man, Inej was deemed most powerful. She would decide whether to give Kaz the means to win, whether she’d agreed to this marriage. Having been ingrained in her mind his authority, Inej never would have believed that Kaz Brekker might rely on her presence so heavily. Unaware she’d been taken all the way to his office to be told she could say no.
Would she? Deny Kaz’s offer, that is? She’d return home and live alongside her aunt and uncle. Witness her cousins grow into beautiful adults. See her father’s grave as often as she liked, visit her mother, as she’d vowed. Exist in a constant state of self-isolation. Fall asleep under the willow tree. Witness Lij’s beauty in Spring. Have all of her belongings. She wondered how many people came to Ketterdam to escape the life she’d lived herself. How many had been offered an opportunity like this, only to be discarded on the street? Would the city regurgitate her in the end? Could she survive Ketterdam? It was safer in Lij.
Ultimately, safety wasn’t happiness. What awaited her wasn’t only her family, but the devil that she’d invited into their home. What also awaited her were demons in her sheets. Endless nights of Heleen’s parties. Heleen had been hired as her advisor, as her parents could no longer counsel her. Inej would live as Heleen’s pet, trapped in a menagerie. Living in a body that held no dignity. Kaz was offering her the key from her cage, a loosening of her shackles. Kaz may be a demon, but he was not the kind that would force open her legs. The kind waiting in dark corners to stick a hand up your skirt. He was offering her solace, peace at the price of nostalgia. All that was in Lij were days of lounging in memories and nights of pain.
“If I say no,” she began. “And I told everyone about this. Would you have me killed?”
Haskell, beside her, began sputtering at her statement, outraged by her audacity. Although Inej’s question was not meant for the advisor, Kaz did not display a similar affront. “I would have you erased,” he revealed. “By what method I do so is entirely up to you.”
She wanted to ask, why her? Though it would be a wasted question and a pointless answer. Inej was not educated in politics, though she’d met plenty of politicians, all with lustful intentions accompanied by patronising words. Kaz would not appreciate wasting breath. The answer was clear anyway. In time, Inej knew she’d regret returning home. This temporary discomfort did not compare to constant violation. Perhaps in space, Inej could heal. Become happy again. Or at least live with peaceful nights. With no responsibility to any man outside of Kaz, no duty tied to her bed.
“I assume there is a contract,” she said steadily, hoping for some indication of emotion. The only response she’d earned was an exhale of relief coming from Haskell. Kaz himself only stood silently, grabbing a document from his desk and a fountain pen he had been using previously.
“A true politician, you’re becoming. Once you sign, it is irreversible,” he informed her carefully. “I would tell you to read in detail, but that would be a poor business move from me.”
His warning vibrating in her head, Inej read the conditions of the marriage. They were quite detailed and surprisingly flexible. Most of what had been told by the two men, other terms she’d merely assumed. With nothing unreasonable, she placed the document on the table before her. Leaning forward, she felt Haskell do so as well, breathing over her shoulder. The pen began shaking in her hand, her irrational thoughts overwhelming her. What am I doing?
“Haskell,” Kaz snapped. “Give the woman space.”
Grateful for his strange defence, Inej was able to gather her thoughts, reordering the benefits and drawbacks. The pen, weighing firmly in her hand, she carefully traced her ink-written signature at the bottom of the page. Placing the writing tool beside it, she felt Haskell rise from his seat.
“Oh, wonderful!” Haskell enlivened in raw relief. “Ghezen! Did I not say she was the right pick?”
“Yes, you were right indeed.”
The Commander, no, her fiancée, drew his eyes from the celebrating advisor to Inej. Hands still shaking at the revelation, Inej could not find a smile to give, hoping her firm posture told Kaz she was confident in her decision.
Her eyes fell upon the enthralling view of the harbour again, aware of the treat this view may become. The seed planted in her heart the night before now sprouted, promising growth. In her most profound intuition, she knew she’d made the right choice. She returned her attention to Kaz, now allowing her curiosity to conquer her.
“Are those rumours about your gloves?” She asked. He raised his chin in acknowledgement and eyebrows in surprise.
“Observant,” he noted. Or complimented, she wasn’t sure. Tearing his attentiveness from her, he stood tugging on his black leather gloves in contemplation. “I believe you’ll find your own answers.”
Then, Inej had lost any attention Kaz was offering as he resumed his position behind his desk. Inej walked into his office as a foreign girl from Lij, leaving with a new role assigned to her. A noble Kerch woman. She intended to play her role to perfection.