𝑮𝑳𝑰𝑻𝑻𝑬𝑹 | 𝑘.𝑏.

11

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K I C K T O T H E G R O I N
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JESPER TRIED TO IGNORE THE pang of jealousy he felt upon seeing Feta's utterly unmoved face. She had taken the revelation of Wylan's identity with so much stride Jesper wondered if he missed her voice underneath Kaz's in the reveal, speaking the boy's surname. Judging by Wylan's red-faced mortification, it was clear he hadn't shared that tidbit with Feta during her visits to his boardinghouse room, which left Jesper to wonder if Kaz had told her or if, like Inej, she'd been one of the first procurers of the information.

Wylan's mouth opened and closed miserably. He couldn't seem to decide who he was more ashamed of knowing his real name: condescending Kaz or smiling Feta already offering her condolences for whatever clueless performance she had given him. "You knew?"

Feta merely nodded. Kaz leaned back in his chair, one knee bent, his bad leg stretched out before him. "Why do you think I've been keeping you around?" he asked with a hint of amusement.

Wylan's face got even redder, if that was possible, nearly matching the ruddy shine of his curls, giving him the appearance of having drank far too much on a cold evening. "I'm good at demo."

"You're passable at demo—"

"He's learning!" Feta defended. She'd always been in his corner from the minute they'd spotted him trudging from his boardinghouse room to the tannery.

"Slowly," Kaz conceded, though it still came out harsh. "He's excellent at hostage, however."

"It doesn't matter," Jesper butt in. Even though it mattered considerably, made much more sense in terms of Kaz's usual behavior. "We should still take Raske and leave this baby merch on lockdown in Ketterdam."

"I don't trust Raske," Kaz said.

To Jesper's dismay he realized Kaz and Feta had been having a silent exchange, most likely regarding Kaz's politeness — or lack thereof — to Van Eck's spawn. He was reminded bitterly of the times where Feta would follow Kaz after a job, much like how she'd done after the parley, and the times Kaz would let her, no matter how much grumbling and snapping he did at first. Get over yourself, Jesper.

"And you trust Wylan Van Eck?" Inej asked, her surprise getting the best of her.

"Wylan doesn't know enough people to cause us real trouble."

"Don't I have some say in this?" complained Wylan. "I'm sitting right here."

The noise of the room lulled. Nina and Matthias weren't the most acquainted with the merchants of Ketterdam and what recruiting a son of theirs meant, but they seemed just as impressed by Wylan's spine in the situation. Even Kaz was impressed enough to acknowledge him.

Kaz raised a brow. "Ever had your pocket picked, Wylan?"

"I...not that I know of."

Feta smiled thinly. Good answer. Anyone who firmly answered no hadn't been in Ketterdam long enough. Besides, multiple visits of Feta's had been inspired by reports from Inej of shady figures taking note of scrawny, shuffling Wylan returning alone to his boardinghouse, frequently patting his pockets — again, Feta's budding friendship with the merchling wasn't so much a ruse as it was a warning to any onlookers. Wylan Van Eck was off limits.

"Been mugged in an alley?" Kaz pushed on.

"No."

"Hung over the side of a bridge with your head in the canal?"

Wylan blinked. "No, but—"

"Ever been beaten until you can't walk?"

"No."