Wylan sat forward. “The Tailor? She’s at the embassy?”
Kaz raised a brow. “What an interesting fact to forget to mention, Nina.”
“It wasn’t relevant at the time.”
“Of course it’s relevant!” Wylan said angrily. Jesper was a little surprised. Wylan hadn’t seemed to mind wearing Kuwei’s features at first. He’d almost seemed to welcome the distance it gave him from his father. But that had been before they’d gone to Saint Hilde. And before Jesper had kissed Kuwei.
Nina winced slightly. “Wylan, I thought you were coming to Ravka. You would have been able to meet Genya as soon as we were on the boat.”
“We all know where Nina’s loyalties lie,” said Kaz.
“I didn’t tell the Triumvirate about Kuwei.”
A faint smile touched Kaz’s lips. “Like I said.” He turned to Inej. “Did you state our terms?”
“Yes, they’ll be at the hotel baths in an hour. I told them to make sure no one saw them enter.”
“Let’s hope they can handle it,” said Kaz.
“They can run a country,” said Nina. “They can manage a few simple instructions.”
“Is it safe for them on the streets?” asked Wylan.
“They’re probably the only Grisha safe in Ketterdam,” said Kaz. “Even if the Shu are working up the nerve to start hunting again, they aren’t going to start with two highly placed Ravkan dignitaries. Nina, does Genya have the skill to restore Wylan’s features?”
“I don’t know,” said Nina. “She’s called the First Tailor, and she’s certainly the most gifted, but without parem …” She didn’t have to explain. Parem was the only reason Nina had been able to manage Wylan’s miraculous transformation into Kuwei. Still, Genya Safin was a legend. Anything might still be possible.
“Kaz,” Wylan said, twisting the tail of his shirt. “If she’s willing to try—”
Kaz nodded. “But you’re going to have to be twice as careful until the auction. Your father doesn’t want you showing up to skunk the scam he’s pulling on the Merchant Council and the stadwatch . You’d be smarter waiting—”
“No,” said Wylan. “I’m done being someone else.”
Kaz shrugged, but Jesper had the feeling he was getting exactly what he wanted. At least in this case, it was what Wylan wanted too.
“Won’t there be hotel guests at the baths?” Jesper asked.
“I had them reserve the whole place for Mister Rietveld,” said Nina. “He’s very self-conscious about disrobing in front of others.”
Jesper groaned. “Please don’t talk about my father taking his clothes off.”
“It’s his webbed feet,” said Nina. “So embarrassing.”
“Nina and Matthias will stay here,” said Kaz.
“I should be there,” Nina protested.
“Are you Ravkan or a member of this crew?”
“I’m both.”
“Exactly. This conversation is going to be tricky enough without you and Matthias there to muddy it up.”
Though they went back and forth for a while, eventually Nina agreed to remain behind if Inej went in her stead.
But Inej only shook her head. “I’d prefer not to.”
“Why?” Nina asked. “Someone needs to hold Kaz accountable.”
“And you think I can?”
“We should at least try.”
“I love you, Nina, but the Ravkan government hasn’t treated the Suli very well. I’m not interested in exchanging pleasantries with their leaders.” Jesper had never really considered that, and it was clear from the stricken expression on Nina’s face that she hadn’t either. Inej gave her a tight hug. “Come on,” she said. “We’ll get Colm to order us something decadent.”
“That’s your answer for everything.”
“You’re complaining?” Inej asked.
“I’m stating one of the reasons I adore you.”
They went to find Colm, arm in arm, but Nina’s teeth were worrying her lower lip. She had to be used to Matthias criticizing her country, but Jesper guessed it stung more coming from Inej. He wanted to tell Nina that you could love something and still see its flaws. At least, he hoped that was true, or he was truly cooked.
As they split to prepare for the meeting with the Ravkans, Jesper followed Wylan down the hall.
“Hey.”
Wylan kept going.
Jesper jogged past him and cut off his path, walking backward. “Listen, this thing with Kuwei isn’t a thing.” He tried again. “There is no thing with Kuwei.”
“You don’t owe me an explanation. I’m the one who interrupted.”
“No, you didn’t! Kuwei was sitting at the piano. It was an understandable mistake.”
Wylan stopped short. “You thought he was me?”
“Yes!” Jesper said. “See? Just a big mis—”
Wylan’s gold eyes flashed. “You really can’t tell us apart?”
“I … I mean, usually I can, but—”
“We’re nothing alike,” Wylan said indignantly. “He’s not even that good at science! Half his notebooks are full of doodles. Mostly of you. And those aren’t good either.”
“Really? Doodles of me?”
Wylan rolled his eyes. “Forget it. You can kiss whomever you like, Jesper.”
“And I do. As regularly as possible.”
“So what’s the problem?”
“No problem, I just wanted to give you this.”
He placed a tiny oval canvas in Wylan’s hand. “I took it when we were at Saint Hilde. I thought it might come in handy if Genya’s going to try to put you back to your old merchling self.”
Wylan stared down at the canvas. “My mother painted this?”
“It was in that room full of her art.”
It was small, unframed, suitable only for a miniature: a portrait of Wylan as a child of around eight years. Wylan curled his fingers over the edge of the painting. “It’s how she remembers me. She never got to see me grow up.” He frowned. “It’s so old. I don’t know if it will be useful.”
“It’s still you,” said Jesper. “Same curls. Same worried little divot between the brows.”
“And you took this just because you thought it might come in handy?”
“I told you, I like your stupid face.”
Wylan ducked his head and slipped the portrait into his pocket. “Thank you.”
“Sure.” Jesper hesitated. “If you’re headed down to the baths, I could come with you. If you wanted.”
Wylan nodded anxiously. “I’d like that.”
Jesper’s newly buoyant mood lasted all the way to the lift, but as they joined Kaz and descended to the hotel’s third floor, his nerves started to jangle. They might be walking into a trap, and Kaz wasn’t exactly in fighting form.
Some part of Jesper hoped that the Ravkans would say no to this mad plan. Then Kaz would be stymied, and even if they all ended up in Hellgate or swinging from the gallows, his father would at least have a chance to escape unharmed. Colm had spent hours with Nina and Kaz trying to learn his role, running through different scenarios, enduring their endless questions and prodding without complaint. Colm wasn’t much of an actor, and he lied about as well as Jesper danced ballet. But Nina would be with him. That had to count for something.
The lift opened and they entered another vast purple-and-white hallway, then followed the sound of running water to a room with a large circular pool at its center, surrounded by a colonnade of arches. Through them, Jesper could see more pools and waterfalls, coves and alcoves, every solid surface decorated in glittering indigo tiles. Now this Jesper could get used to: pools of steaming water, fountains dancing and burbling like guests at a party, piles of thick towels and sweet-smelling soaps. A place like this belonged in the Barrel, where it could be properly appreciated, not in the middle of the financial district.
They’d been told they would be meeting with only two members of the Triumvirate, but three people stood by the pool. Jesper knew the one-eyed girl in the red-and-blue kefta must be Genya Safin, and that meant the shockingly gorgeous girl with the thick fall of ebony hair was Zoya Nazyalensky. They were accompanied by a fox-faced man in his twenties wearing a teal frock coat, brown leather gloves, and an impressive set of Zemeni revolvers slung around his hips. If these people were what Ravka had to offer, maybe Jesper should consider a visit.