Chapter Text
It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife.
- Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice
Inej Ghafa did not hold many truths, but she did hold one: she was poor. Her status was more elevated than some, but she held no title. The land she held was meager, her inheritance moreso, and, were she to marry, both would transfer to her husband. She was no great beauty; she did not speak French, or play the harp, or draw. She had learned from a very young age that there were not many great prospects for her in life unless she married advantageously. She had decided at that same age that only the deepest of loves would ever persuade her into matrimony, and therefore, she was likely to remain poor. And so the truth was this: when the world is against you, you must learn to hold yourself as if it is not. You hold your head as if you wear a crown. You learn to wring magic from the ordinary. That was how you survived.
It was a truth universally acknowledged, that when the world owed you nothing, you demanded something of it anyway.
Inej made many demands throughout her life. When she was five, already balancing on her toes at any time she could, she found a wounded crow in the forest behind her house. Her parents discouraged her from bringing the poor creature inside; it would be better, they said, to put the poor thing out of its misery. But Inej would not listen. She took the bird inside and nursed it. She willed the water to strengthen it, the food to give it courage. She demanded it live, and heal.
And so it did.
When she was eleven, she met a girl. She was everything Inej was not- she was wealthy, to begin with, and loud. She was round and soft where Inej was still lean bone and sharp angles. Inej had been brought up by her parents and uncles and aunts. Nina’s parents had died when she was very young, so grew up with nannies and governesses. Inej was to inherit only her father’s house and its surrounding lands. Nina was to inherit an estate, and an allowance of more money than Inej had ever even seen. But she looked lonely. Inej found her in a park, sitting by herself while her governess looked on from a nearby bench. She was weaving together wildflowers to make a crown. Inej walked right over to her, sat down in the grass, and wordlessly began weaving a crown of her own. Nina barely blinked an eye; she smiled, and began to talk. She talked about sweets, and the waffles her cook made with powdered sugar and strawberries. Inej talked about her family, how her mother made the sweetest cakes you could imagine. Nina looked sad, then. So the next day, Inej found her again, and handed her a slice of cake she had hidden in her skirts. She came back every day, and after a week, she decided they would become best friends.
And so they did.
When she was fourteen, she met a boy. He had copper-colored curls, and deep blue eyes, ringed with a profound sadness that Inej could not decipher, but knew she would not forget. He lived in a large house, larger than Nina’s, even. His father was a Duke, and wealthy beyond all the world. But the boy would inherit none of it. She found him, one day, sleeping in the stable where they kept the horses. He was still wearing what he had worn when he was removed from his father’s house, no coat or hat, his shoes ripped to pieces from walking. It was snowing out, and Inej knew she could not leave this boy out in the cold. She took him inside for a warm cup of tea, and discovered she rather liked him. He was kind, and quick-witted in a way that reminded her of Nina. He was intelligent, and gifted in music, and Inej found herself quite immersed in watching his nimble fingers dance across the piano’s keys. He claimed there was no family he could write to, no one he knew who could take him in. And so Inej looked at this lonely boy, at the bruises he tried to cover with his tattered shirt sleeves, and decided he would stay and live with her.
And so he did.
Now, at twenty, Inej found she must make yet another demand. This time, for the strength not to push Nina into the dessert table.
It had all started a week ago. A man had bought the estate neighboring that of the Ghafa’s, and the entire town was buzzing with the news. Inej had to admit she saw why- any young, eligible man of great wealth must surely have been in want of a spouse. There were many a young lady and gentleman sending away to the dressmakers and tailors, plenty of fathers making the trek over to the large house to make their introductions. Inej’s father had done the same as soon as her neighbor had settled, their estates being so close.
“His name is Fahey,” Inej said. She was sitting next to Nina in her drawing room, both girls turned sideways on the couch to face each other. Wylan was content to sit on the floor, propping himself up with his hands behind him. “And apparently he’s immeasurably wealthy.”
“Exactly how immeasurably?” Nina had asked, popping a tea cake into her mouth.
She was of age now, and indulged in as many sweets as she liked, though she still asked for some cake from Inej’s mother every time she visited. She had offered a room to Wylan, when she inherited, but he had turned her down. His help was needed back at the Ghafa estate, he said. Inej had wanted to argue that they would manage just fine, but there was a look in his eye that had stopped her, and she allowed him to decline. She never asked why, and he never told her.
“Mr. Ghafa said he has over 5,000 a year,” said Wylan, scrunching his nose. “He made his fortune in Novyi Zem and came to Ketterdam to spend it. And that he doesn’t discriminate based on gender.”
“More competition for us,” said Nina. Inej laughed.
“You haven’t even met him. How do you know you even want to be in the competition?”
Nina only shrugged. “Wealthy men are always handsome.”
“Tell that to my father,” Wylan joked. Nina snorted and threw a crumb of teacake at him.
“Anyway,” she said. “I heard he’ll be attending the ball at the assembly this weekend, with twelve ladies and seven gentlemen.”
“He will be, but not with that many people. My father says there is one other man staying on the estate, but he wasn’t present when he went to visit.”
“Another wealthy man, I suppose.”
Inej rolled her eyes with fondness. “Yes, I suppose so.”
“Perhaps we’ll all find someone this weekend,” Wylan said, smiling. “We should all look our best to impress our new neighbors.”
“Does that mean I can pick your outfit?” Nina batted her eyelashes at him. “Please?”
“Absolutely not. You always give me pants that are far too tight.” Now it was Nina’s turn to roll her eyes.
“That’s the point , Wylan dear. You have to show off your assets.”
Inej nearly spit out her tea.
And now they’re here, at the ball, with Wylan stubbornly in pants that did not hug his ass, and Nina nearly toppling Inej over while reaching for a pastry.
“Will you stop that!” Inej whisper-yelled. “Just go around me if you’re so hungry.”
“I can’t,” she hissed back. “From here I have the best view of the door.”
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“Shh, shh, look! Wylan, get over here!”
Inej noticed, for the first time, that the room had gone silent around her. Even the band had stopped playing. All eyes were on the door, watching as Mr. Fahey and his companion entered the room. Mr. Fahey was tall, with dark Zemeni skin and long, gangly limbs. He was smiling, and immediately began making himself acquainted with the people in the room, asking the band to play something lively. His companion, however, seemed reluctant to talk to anyone besides his friend. It was his eyes that Inej was drawn to first. Dark eyes, the color of bitter coffee, but when they caught the light, they were the dark gold color of tea. They squinted as he observed the ballroom, coming to stop on hers for only a brief moment.
It felt like a lifetime.
He was tall, though not as much as his friend, and he wore fine black leather gloves. His haircut was rather unfortunate, but was easily forgotten when he rolled his shoulders, revealing the taut muscle that his suit clung to. He was standing rather awkwardly, Inej would note later, as if he were putting more weight on his left leg than his right. When he caught Inej’s eye, he froze, and she saw him swallow. He looked away just as quickly, but if she looked very hard, she could see his posture had changed just slightly.
It wasn’t long before the pair of them had made their way over to their little group, Mr. Fahey shaking hands with Inej’s father.
“You have met my wife, of course, Mr. Fahey, and these are my children, Inej and Wylan, and their friend, Nina Zenik.”
They all made their respective bows and curtsies; Wylan’s cheeks were flushed, and Inej took his hand very briefly to squeeze it. Mr. Fahey’s companion had raised an eyebrow at the introduction, but said nothing, and Mr. Fahey simply smiled and bowed.
“Pleased to make your acquaintance. This is my friend, Kaz Brekker. You’ll have to forgive his manners, I’m still working on civilizing him.” He leaned in conspiratorially and lowered his voice as if sharing a secret. “Raised by wolves, you know. Nasty stuff.”
“I can hear you, you know.”
Kaz’s voice surprised her. It was low, and raspy, as if he’d had a cough the past few days, and perhaps he had. From the look of him, he couldn’t have been older than twenty one, but his voice made him sound as if he had lived a thousand years already. He bowed in a bit of an awkward manner, and met Inej’s eyes again, holding them for only a second before looking away.
Nina was whisked off quickly to dance with some young gentleman, and Mr. Fahey, Mr. Brekker, Inej, and Wylan were left standing off by themselves. Wylan was still blushing, but Inej did not think it was because of her father’s earlier comment.
“How are you liking Ketterdam, Mr. Fahey?” Wylan asked beside her.
“Please, call me Jesper.” The flush of Wylan’s cheeks only got darker, and Mr. Fahey- Jesper -looked very much like the cat that got the cream. Wylan cleared his throat.
“And how are you liking Ketterdam, Jesper?”
Jesper gave a cheshire grin. “Very much. Much more to do than in Novyi Zem, don’t you think, Kaz?”
He turned to his friend, who only made a noise in the back of his throat and nodded. He looked very much like he wanted to be anywhere but here.
“Not much to do in Novyi Zem, you see, besides farming,” Jesper continued. “I’ve never been very good at sitting still. Drove my da crazy.”
“Me too,” Wylan joked. Inej gave him a sharp elbow to the ribs. “Ow, Inej--”
“Don’t make jokes like that,” she hissed.
The two other gentlemen didn’t seem very fazed by this. Jesper simply held out his hand, and asked Wylan to dance. With a nudge, the two were whisked away towards the dance floor, leaving Inej with a scowling Kaz. Inej gave her best smile.
“Do you dance, Kaz?”
“Not if I can help it.”
Inej raised a challenging eyebrow. “Do you not find the festivities to your liking, then?”
“I don’t find many things to my liking.”
“Are you at least enjoying the country?”
He looked at her this time, those bitter coffee eyes scanning her up and down. “Not particularly.”
Inej could not help but stare. How a man like Jesper could ever be friends with a man like Kaz, she didn’t know. Selfishly, she felt a sinking in her stomach at the realization that, should Wylan come to like Jesper, she’d have to see Kaz far more often than she would like to.
Having apparently exhausted Kaz’s capabilities of holding a conversation, Inej excused herself with a quick curtsey and made herself invisible in a quiet corner. She made herself content watching Wylan dance with Jesper. His smile was not quite as wide as she knew it could be, still reserved in his shyness, but there was an ease in the way he danced that she did not recognize. His shoulders, normally tensed, were relaxed, and he allowed himself to be moved by Jesper’s gentle hand. He laughed, bright and loud, and Inej swore she could have felt it from the rooftop.
“It seems our little Wylan is all grown up,” Nina sighed. Inej snorted.
“He’s always been grown up. But it’s nice to see him so happy.”
Nina hummed in agreement. “Jesper’s a good man. And not to mention rich.”
“Poor choice of friends, though.” She nodded over to where Kaz was sulking in a corner.
“Kaz isn’t the most pleasant person to be around, but he has ten thousand a year. And he owns half of Derbyshire.”
“The miserable half?”
Nina giggled, and it wasn’t long before she was grabbing Inej by the hand and leading her to hide beneath the dessert table. Part of the trouble of being Nina Zenik was that she loved attention, but it always seemed to come from the wrong sort of people. She had been hounded all night by more than one displeasing gentleman whom she knew was only after her for her considerable fortune, and spent more time avoiding potential partners than actually dancing. Inej was content to follow her, the two of them swiping glasses of champagne and hiding sweets in their dresses before they made their escape.
“Come on, Kaz,” a familiar voice said, his boots visible where he stood beside the table. “I must have you dance. You can’t spend the entire evening sulking in a corner.”
Inej looked at her friend, wide-eyed, and put a finger to her lips.
“I wasn’t sulking,” Kaz had grumbled. “And you know how I feel about dancing.”
“You’d have no trouble finding a partner,” Jesper urged. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen so many pretty boys and girls in my whole life.”
“You’re dancing with the only handsome person in this room.” She watched as Nina’s red lips turned down into a pout, and Inej had to put a hand over her mouth to keep from laughing.
“He is the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen. But his sister Inej is very pretty, don’t you think?”
Nina wiggled her eyebrows, and Inej gave a swat to her shoulder.
“Perfectly tolerable,” Kaz said. “But not handsome enough to tempt me.” Inej and Nina both stilled. “You had better return to your partner and his smiles. You’re wasting your time with me.”
Inej had never considered herself to be very pretty. She knew that she was not ugly, and she knew that she was not beautiful like Nina, but she had never looked down on herself for it. She was generally pleased with the way she looked, and had anyone else commented on it, it would not have bothered her. But something about the words coming out of Kaz Brekker’s mouth had bothered her.
“Don’t listen to a word he says,” Nina said, reaching over to take Inej’s hand in her own. “Imagine how awful you’d have to be to be liked by him.”
Inej forced a smile. “Don’t worry. I wouldn’t dance with him for all of Derbyshire, let alone the miserable half.”