[ tilting back in his chair, kaz replays every moment that led to this and wonders which parts were true. this one? if it’s true what nikolai says now, if there’s nothing to be done, he should crawl back to ketterdam — can’t, because he needs to find the heart for infuriating, achingly mournful nikolai — but nikolai gives him one last revelation, sinking into the skin. only hurt and fatigue dull his response. i am tired of tasting your blood, brekker. maybe that’s what he missed. that nikolai didn’t just want him — that he cared about him, too. he never said that, not in so many words. why would he care? his first thought is that there’s no accounting for taste.
you don’t understand mine. no, he doesn’t understand, as much as he gathers evidence and makes guesses. a pathetic, miserable thought: i would if you’d tell me. nikolai won’t allow him inside that guarded vault, locks impenetrable, so kaz refuses to engage with it further. as the king wills it. he tries to reorient his understanding of nikolai and the job both, stripping out all the tender, witless pieces.
at what part? his face cracks open again, exposed until annoyance tightens the furrow of his brows. nikolai keeps looking, like he has any right to see this pain — and then bloody well ignores his orders by sliding the ground. fine. not a shootable offense, though if he were to stand now, kaz would aim for the legs. the zowa likes him not, but she won’t let a boy who seems human die. ]
You know which part. [ does he? or is he as obtuse as he pretends to be sometimes? if it’s true that nikolai doesn’t want him, not enough, and cares in a way that prevents him from staying, then kaz has nothing left to lose. in the aftermath of a sigh, his reply sounds empty. ]
The only other person I’ve told that name [ that name, not mine. ] is the man who killed my brother, so he’d remember exactly who came back from the dead to ruin him.
[ there’s an air of finality to it, resignation to their distance. a last truth before they part, so nikolai knows what it meant, to speak it aloud. even if all his other threats prove idle, this one won’t. a secret that has been rarely told and never in a moment of trust like that. inej had heard it then, too, but it was rollins he was telling. pekka fucking rollins, who hadn’t even remembered the rietveld boys, their names and faces lost in a sea of marks. wouldn’t have known kaz’s own name, if he hadn’t taught it to him with a hundred cuts to his empire. he came back to take everything from rollins and then stopped short of the final theft of what he loved most.
because a monster needn’t waste time doing every monstrous thing, and it wouldn’t bring his brother back from the dead, but it would have driven an immovable wedge between him and inej (and jesper and wylan and nina) if he killed the rollins' boy. the lines they've crossed tonight aren't as close to the jutting ledge as that one. a flicker of hope. they might yet find their way back. and they might not.
no matter the outcome, kaz decides that he will gift nikolai with the heart of sankt feliks, so that he can choose where he goes, even if it leads him away. ]
Edited (made up fantasy languages smh x 2) 2021-06-25 08:21 (UTC)
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you don’t understand mine. no, he doesn’t understand, as much as he gathers evidence and makes guesses. a pathetic, miserable thought: i would if you’d tell me. nikolai won’t allow him inside that guarded vault, locks impenetrable, so kaz refuses to engage with it further. as the king wills it. he tries to reorient his understanding of nikolai and the job both, stripping out all the tender, witless pieces.
at what part? his face cracks open again, exposed until annoyance tightens the furrow of his brows. nikolai keeps looking, like he has any right to see this pain — and then bloody well ignores his orders by sliding the ground. fine. not a shootable offense, though if he were to stand now, kaz would aim for the legs. the zowa likes him not, but she won’t let a boy who seems human die. ]
You know which part. [ does he? or is he as obtuse as he pretends to be sometimes? if it’s true that nikolai doesn’t want him, not enough, and cares in a way that prevents him from staying, then kaz has nothing left to lose. in the aftermath of a sigh, his reply sounds empty. ]
The only other person I’ve told that name [ that name, not mine. ] is the man who killed my brother, so he’d remember exactly who came back from the dead to ruin him.
[ there’s an air of finality to it, resignation to their distance. a last truth before they part, so nikolai knows what it meant, to speak it aloud. even if all his other threats prove idle, this one won’t. a secret that has been rarely told and never in a moment of trust like that. inej had heard it then, too, but it was rollins he was telling. pekka fucking rollins, who hadn’t even remembered the rietveld boys, their names and faces lost in a sea of marks. wouldn’t have known kaz’s own name, if he hadn’t taught it to him with a hundred cuts to his empire. he came back to take everything from rollins and then stopped short of the final theft of what he loved most.
because a monster needn’t waste time doing every monstrous thing, and it wouldn’t bring his brother back from the dead, but it would have driven an immovable wedge between him and inej (and jesper and wylan and nina) if he killed the rollins' boy. the lines they've crossed tonight aren't as close to the jutting ledge as that one. a flicker of hope. they might yet find their way back. and they might not.
no matter the outcome, kaz decides that he will gift nikolai with the heart of sankt feliks, so that he can choose where he goes, even if it leads him away. ]