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It’s strange, Wylan thinks to himself, walking through the streets of Ketterdam and not having to fear for his life. His father is awaiting trial in Hellgate, and he’s still got Dregs protection over him in even some of the seedier parts of the city. He can hold his head high, nodding his hello at a few people he recognizes, as he makes his way to the Harbor.
Kaz is there already, naturally, his black suit cutting a sharp silhouette against the grey fog of the city, hands clasped over his signature crow’s head cane. He’s unmoving, a figure carved of marble above the rocky shoreline. The passerby give him a wide berth; it seems even the tourists fresh off the boats know better than to get too close to Dirtyhands.
One of Kaz’s runners had dropped by yesterday, passing along the message of his meeting request. It had been horrendously vague, as most of Kaz’s communications are - only a time and a location and a demand that he tell no one, with no explanation of the underlying purpose.
Knowing Kaz, there’s probably a job involved. One that Wylan has no intention of taking, but one he figures he should have the dignity to decline to Kaz’s face.
“Merchling,” Kaz says as soon as Wylan walks up, nodding a greeting.
“I think I’ve earned the right to be called by my actual name at this point,” he replies. Merchling isn’t even correct anymore - he’s no longer the son of a merch, he is a merch.
He should earn Kaz’s ire for that remark, but inexplicably, he sees something almost like a smirk flit across Kaz’s features. “Okay, Wylan.”
That - the acquiescence to his request - throws him off balance for a moment, and it takes a second to regain his bearings. But if Kaz is trying to butter him up for some outlandish request, it won’t work. “What do you want, Kaz?”
“Your father’s estate, the one you now possess, includes a small fleet of ships, correct?”
Wylan nods. “It does.”
“One of them is a small warship, capable of heavy armory and carrying a reasonably sized crew, yes?”
He and Jesper have gone through most of his father’s records, and he’s pretty sure he remembers a ship matching those specifications. He also doesn’t doubt that Kaz has them memorized, so it doesn’t even matter what his answer is - Kaz already knows, and this line of questioning is little more than posturing. He answers in the affirmative.
“I believe the going price for a similarly fashioned ship is approximately half a million kruge,” Kaz continues, still entirely cryptic in his motivations for this conversation.
He hasn’t really looked into ship appraisals, so he has no idea if that’s an honest truth or not. “Sure,” Wylan replies. “What does that matter though?”
“I want to buy it from you.”
He wants to… buy a ship? What use does he, in running a gang and generally haunting only the darkest parts of Ketterdam, have for a ship , much less one as expensive as that? It’s not like he’s Inej, with her mission of setting out on the seas to take down slavers and -
Oh. Oh.
“What exactly do you plan on using this ship for, Kaz?” he questions.
A gust of wind comes in off the harbor, rustling Kaz’s carefully-combed dark hair. “My business is no one’s but my own,” he answers.
“If you’re asking for Inej, there’s no need to buy - ”
“I’m not asking for Inej,” he interrupts. “The market price is five hundred thousand. Will you sell it to me or not?”
How on earth Inej and Jesper put up with Kaz for as long as they did without soundly slapping him is perpetually a mystery to Wylan. He’s not even the slapping type, but his hands are still somehow itching to smack some sense into the Barrel boss before him.
He knows Kaz doesn’t think him that stupid. And yet here he is, lying to his face anyway.
“I’ll give it to you, there’s no need to - ”
Kaz cuts him off a second time. “I’m not asking for, nor do I want your charity, Wylan. Either you sell me the ship for five hundred thousand or I find another seller of another similarly designed ship who will.”
If it were anyone else, Wylan might not let it go. But he’s not going to win a battle of wills against Kaz Brekker, and, all things considered, being forced into accepting payment for a ship isn’t exactly the worst thing he could’ve gotten out of this meeting. All of it is fully legal, fully above the table, and while he has no need to add another half million kruge to the Van Eck coffers, he can no doubt find some sort of charitable enterprise to put it towards instead.
“You have yourself a deal,” he says. “I’ll have the accountant draw up the transfer papers in Inej’s name this afternoon.”
“It’s not for - ”
This time, Wylan’s the one to interrupt. “I’m already giving you the deal you asked for, the least you can do is stop lying to my face.”
Kaz opens his mouth, then closes it again. It seems Wylan has managed to stun him into a temporary silence. That might be something of a rare accomplishment.
“If you mention a word of this to her…” he finally manages, but his sentence ends at that.
“I know how gifts work,” Wylan answers. “Your secret is safe with me.”
Kaz nods in response, and Wylan imagines that’s probably the closest he’s going to get to an actual expression of gratitude.
He turns to leave, but he barely makes it half a step before Kaz speaks again. “Thank you,” he says, the polite words sounding entirely out of place in his distinctive rasp.
“You’re welcome, Kaz,” he says in response, as soon as he gets over the initial shock. “And… you’re welcome to come by for dinner any time, you know. I get that life as a Barrel boss is busy and all, but… Jesper misses you, I think. We all do.”
He means it. As frustrating and seemingly unfeeling - and slappable , Ghezen - as Kaz may be, Wylan is inexplicably fond of the Bastard of the Barrel. Something to do with the bonding experience brought about by almost dying together countless times over the span of a couple weeks, perhaps.
“I’ll think about it.”
“Good,” Wylan says, and leaves Kaz there, staring out at the harbor, a stone statue once more.
He can’t proclaim to understand Kaz, or to understand any of whatever exists between him and Inej, but he absolutely recognizes what this means for them. What this means for Kaz, giving Inej the final bit of her freedom.
And damn if he doesn’t respect him just a little bit more for it.