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Dirtyhands loves Inej Ghafa. He loves her in the way he would break the fingers of any man who would hurt her, savoring their pain. He loves her in the way the pleasure houses go up in flames, because no one questions the king of the barrel. He loves her in the way that Ketterdam is always a safe harbor for the Wraith, and no angry slaver would even think of crossing her within the city. When dirtyhands loves Inej Ghafa, it is fierce and desperate and angry. Not at her, never at her, but at the world. That he, too proud to kneel before anything or anyone in this saints forsaken place, falls to his knees of his own volition before a woman so good he fears he will tarnish her. She is his wraith, his spider, his co-conspirator. And dirtyhands rewards those who serve him well.
Kaz Brekker loves Inej Ghafa. He loves her in the way he bandages her bleeding wounds, hands growing steadier by the day. He loves her in the fact he still tosses breadcrumbs to her birds, because who knows? A trained bird might come in handy, and once you’ve earned the loyalty of a crow, it’s yours forever. He loves her in the letters he writes, long after the numbers have been run. They always wait for her in any harbor he knows she might frequent, and they are not filled with poetry or declarations, but they are filled with love all the same. When Kaz Brekker loves Inej Ghafa, it is steady and constant and quiet. He does not scream her name from rooftops, but it haunts his dreams near every night. It is a private love, and damn the slat, and his friends, and all of Kerch for all he cares, she loves him in the quiet and the dark and that is his and only his. He will love her presence at his side, her guard on his back, her inaudible footsteps from the shadows. She is his friend, his partner, the person he trusts most in the world. And his love, like the safety that comes with knowing she is near, is constant.
Kaz Rietveld loves Inej Ghafa. He loves her in the gifts he gives, whether flowers or knives. He loves her in the way he holds her, like nothing has ever been so precious. Not gold, not fear, or retribution. The most valuable thing he can imagine is the way she fits under his chin. He loves her in every word of devotion he chokes out, because he thought himself long dead, but she has brought him back to life with her hair loose around her shoulders and her grin as quick as her feet. When Kaz Rietveld loves Inej Ghafa, it is innocent and adoring and endless. Gone is the man he is, instead the boy he lets himself be with her. Naive and giddy, unable to comprehend why she would choose him, but doing everything in his power to be worthy of her. He learns her tongue to whisper everything he feels to her, but never has the words in any language to tell her how much he loves her. And he does. He loves her, he loves her, he loves her. She is the princess from his childhood dreams, and although his younger self had imagined her kindness and her beauty, he never understood exactly what she would mean to him.
Every version of the man he is, the child he was, the man he could be, loves her and always has. Every stitch of his immaculate suit, every jagged scar that decorates his body, all of it, every piece of him, is hers. There is no version of himself that was not hers the moment he saw her. Dirtyhands is his claws, and they will defend her to his last breath. Kaz Brekker is his mind, and she is always on it. Kaz Rietveld is his heart, and she keeps it tight within her grasp, a piece of him far away on the open sea. She makes him strong, she makes him weak, she makes him feel safe, she makes him feel vulnerable, she makes him calm, she makes him crazy. She is absolutely everything, and he doesn’t just get drunk on her laughter, but on the impossible, ridiculous, magical fact that she loves him the same.