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Someday you’ll meet a boy who will learn your favorite flower, your favorite song, your favorite sweet. Padjen recalled the morning she had overheard her beloved husband telling their young daughter those words.
Her eyes wandered the countertops of the Van Eck mansion’s kitchen. Golden mangoes overflowed from a wicker basket, ripe enough that the kitchen smelled sweetly of the rare tropical fruit that had been a favorite of Inej’s in childhood.
...even if he is too poor to give you any of them, her husband had continued. There was no shortage of expensive scarce goods here; Kaz Brekker had made sure of that, though Inej would not tell Padjen exactly how. But Padjen was no fool - she knew it meant no less that Inej’s favorites were easily in Brekker’s reach thanks to his great wealth. She knew he would have acquired the mangoes no matter the amount of gold in his pocket.
Padjen turned her attention back to the dough at her fingertips. She folded the bread under and over itself, under and over, as she had a million times before, eyeing the dill just to the side of her pan. It would go in on the last fold.
A familiar tap and step sounded from the hallway. Sure enough the door creaked open to reveal Kaz Brekker, the boy who had mysteriously paid their passage all that time ago.
He has brought her knives and death, not flowers and songs, Padjen recalled fretting at her husband only days after meeting Kaz Brekker.
Only one woman loves knives with the names of Saints, her beloved husband had responded sagely. Padjen had put her fingers to her lips, then her chest, in the holy gesture of said Saints.
"You're back," Padjen said now, clearly pleased.
Kaz Brekker nearly never smiled, but Padjen had always been intuitive at sensing the moods of others, and this one wasn't too far from happiness - dare she say, maybe even joy.
A split second later, it was clear why. A bullet of a child zoomed through the doorway just narrowly missing running right into her father's legs. The little one, Padjen's pride and joy, had been a gift bestowed upon them by the Saints, and Padjen had been thanking said Saints every day since.
"Matka!" The Suli word for grandmother in the tiny child's high-pitched voice always made Pajden's heart melt.
"My little love," Padjen exclaimed, scooping the small girl up.
"How's it coming along?" The voice of Kaz Brekker was something akin to listening to one stone pave way against another.
"Your nose will tell you better than words ever could." Padjen beamed at him.
Kaz eyed her bemusedly. Now I see where Inej gets it from, he'd told her once with more warmth than she'd ever heard him express before at that time. When she'd asked, he explained Inej's partiality to proverbs. You mean wisdom, Padjen had corrected him, smiling. But he'd never been mocking of their ways, only observant.
"Did you find the rosemary then?" Padjen eyed Kaz Brekker's hands, which were empty but for his cane.
"No, but-"
"...she likes it better with dill." Padjen said along with Brekker.
And it was true. When Padjen had first been reunited with her daughter and the enormous wealth that came with that, Padjen had made skillet bread with rosemary, but Inej had scrunched up her nose, lamenting the lack of dill.
Only one woman loves dill skillet bread, Padjen could imagine her husband commenting.
"Can I ha'?" Padjen's beauty of a granddaughter pointed her chubby fingers at a tray of pastries Padjen had toiled away all morning making. Not that she hadn't had any help. Kaz Brekker himself had joined her to make and shape the dough.
They were to celebrate the day of Inej's birth this night around an open fire.
"You may have anything your little heart desires." Padjen leaned forward to tickle her grandaughter's little belly to the sound of shrieks and giggles.
"You spoil her too much," Kaz complained, brushing his hair back, but there was no mistaking the ghost of a smile as he watched his daughter eat.
Padjen clucked her tongue at Kaz in vexation. "And what do you call buying her her own gondol equipped with its very own grisha security spells, jamatr?" The Suli word for son-in-law.
Kaz raised a careful eyebrow. "Cautious." But there was a pleased air to the gesture. He'd never admit it, but he enjoyed the title.
The little girl in Padjen's arms began to squirm excitedly, her face now coated in sugar and jam. "Guess what Papa said he's going to get me next, Matka!" The little squirmed her way successfully out of her grandmother's arms and was flying back towards her father. She landed with a whump against him, bouncing excitedly up and down as she gazed up at him adoringly.
"Now-" He began, looking conspiratorially down at his daughter.
“I spoil her,” Padjen huffed under her breath sarcastically. "Let me guess," she harrumphed, turning her back on them to attend to the skillet bread dough. "A pony? A ballet troupe? An island?"
Padjen heard the door to the kitchen re-open.
"Papa promised to get me my own knives!" The little one announced proudly to Padjen's absolute and utter horror. She turned swiftly, but Brekker had already retreated up the hallway.
“Kaz Brekker!” Padjen called after him helplessly. He’d known she wouldn’t leave the skillet bread dough unattended. It had been his idea to make it, but Padjen, whatever she wanted to say, loved to spoil her daughter as much as Kaz Brekker did.
***
"What was all that about?" Inej had just been about to go see what all the ruckus in the kitchen had been about when Kaz had suddenly appeared in the doorway.
"Your mother isn't very happy about the knives." He said almost carelessly as he shrugged out of his coat.
"My knives?"
"The little knives." Kaz nodded discreetly at the case stored in secret across the way.
"What about them?" Inej demanded, affronted.
"I don't think she wants her to have them."
Kaz shucked off his gloves where they joined his coat in a heap on the chaise. He leaned down and kissed Inej deeply.
"Of course my daughter is going to have knives." Inej said, offended, as soon as their lips parted.
“She’s your mother,” Kaz shrugged, but his lips tugged at the corners as he parted to go greet Jesper and Wylan.
Inej blanched. “She likes you better.” She called after him, but he only laughed dismissively.
Later, sitting around the fire in the garden, surrounded by her family and closest friends - really, all family - Inej found herself full and satisfied.
“This is the best thing I’ve ever had in my mouth,” Nina was cooing, cradling the remains of a golden mango and ignoring Matthias’ glare.
Inej giggled and had to silently agree. She was about to get up to get another serving when a shadow fell over her. She looked up and her lips broke into a grin. Kaz was balancing their child on one hip and a tray of mango slices in his other hand, accompanied by salt, chili and lime, just as she liked.
“Mmm,” Inej said as way of thanks, taking the tray.
Kaz dropped to the stool next to hers, swinging their child around to his lap.
“Mama, you’ve already had four,” the little girl trilled, holding up three chubby little fingers.
Inej captured the tiny hand and brought it to her lips. “And I shall have more,” she pretend to gobble down the tiny little hand to the joyous shrieking, giggling and running away that usually accompanied such an attack. The little girl sprinted to her grandmother to seek refuge, laughing all the way.
“You’re lucky you claimed Brekker first,” Nina was lamenting, jealously eyeing Inej’s tray.
Kaz scoffed at her side, but Inej took up one mango slice and leaned over across the way. “Here.” She said, feeding it to her friend. Nina’s face was rapturous.
“You were right, it’s so much better with lime.” Then Nina was trouncing across the yard, Matthias at her heels, to get her own tray of similarly decorated mango.
Inej grinned, placing another slice of mango between her lips. The sticky juice, cool and sweet, ran down her chin. Her eyes met Kaz’s. Then, one long, pale finger came to her jaw, hesitated and then swiped gently at the juice.
Inej stared at his face, soft as it was for all its hard edges, and was lost for a moment.
“Thank you.” She murmured, wanting to kiss him deeply, wanting more, and knowing it wasn’t the time. She was thankful for more than the gesture, for more than the fruit, and it was enough that he knew that.
“For what?” His lips twitched and she elbowed him lightly before plucking up another mango slice.
Inej had mentioned it in passing, years ago. Her favorite fruit. It had still been a delicacy then, something she hadn’t had since childhood but had craved since then.
She had blinked long and slow when the first shipment of golden mangoes had arrived at their doorstep not long after. Kaz pretended not to have known what she’d been so excited about. But when she’d served herself a mango, cut into slices and smothered in lime, salt and chili, he had thereafter ensured no shortage of all four items in their pantry.
“What?” Kaz asked, uncertainty painting his voice as he watched her watch him with what could be nothing less than longing and love.
That boy would bring you the sun if he thought it would make you happy, her mother had once told her after Kaz had gifted her a particularly expensive new knife.
That’s impossible, Mama, Inej had replied, laughing.
Exactly, her mother had said, something all knowing in her eyes.
“I have a gift for you,” Inej said suddenly.
Kaz’s left eyebrow tilted dangerously. “On the day of your birth celebration?”
Inej nodded and absently placed the tray down on the floor at her side, her craving for mango forgotten. She turned slightly to take hold of a package she’d hidden under the fabric of her stool.
Kaz’s face was cautious, careful and curious all at once. “What is it?” He asked as she placed it in the open palms of his hands. The package was light as a feather.
“Open it,” Inej barely breathed at him.
With the quick help of his deft graceful hands, Kaz plied the box open- and froze.
His eyes slowly found Inej’s again.
Inside the box was the tiniest hat, an exact replica of the one Kaz wore every day. An exact replica of the one he’d asked Inej to buy him all those years ago.
His eyes darted to her flat stomach where her hand had rested absently. “Are you sure?” He asked, fighting a smile, but it was a losing battle as Inej said-
“Yes, my darling Kaz, treasure of my heart.” Inej had meant to mock those words he’d spoken to her all those years ago, but her heart felt too full of love, she could almost not speak.
Kaz barked a surprising laugh, and all heads around the fire turned to look at them. It was a pity, as Inej wanted nothing more than to lean forward in that instant and kiss him silly. But Kaz had never been one for public displays of-
The thought was chased from Inej’s head in an instant when Kaz brought his lips crashing down on hers.
“Oi, save some sugar for the rest of us!” She heard Jesper crow at them distantly.