Chapter Text
You would think after knowing Kaz for nearly five years, seeing him at six in the morning sitting in the dining room making small talk with the kitchen staff would no longer surprise Wylan anymore. But it still did. The staff certainly had no idea they were talking to the most dangerous man in Ketterdam. To them, Kaz was just a friend of Wylans who he had met in college at Belendt. What was most surprising everytime was just how charming Kaz was. He smiled, made eye contact. He carried himself as if he had grown up in a family rich and educated enough to have sent their son to one of the most prestigious music universities in Kerch. Annaliese, Wylans cook, an older woman in her sixties, smiled warmly at Kaz as she handed him a mug of coffee. All while telling Kaz about her granddaughter and how she, just like Kaz, was passionate about playing the piano forte.
“You should hear her, Mr Daalmans.” Annaliese said, her thick worker hands pressed affectionately to her cheek. “She’s only eight, but she plays like a true princess.”
“I am sure she does, Mrs Colijn. Make sure she keeps it up, if you don’t start young it's near impossible to get into academies these days.” Mr Daalmans (Kaz) had his usual mischievous glint in his eyes. The usual one he got whenever he was fooling someone. Wylan had picked it up over the years in hopes to notice it if Kaz ever tried to pull it on him (again).
“Morning, Annaliese, Mr Daalmans.” Wylan said sleepily, stepping in quietly to the dining room from the staircase. He was still in his sleepwear, pale blue, thick cotton night shirt and pants. All wrapped in a velvet grey robe. Summer was ending and Autumn was coming in quickly as it usually did in Ketterdam. Annaliese jumped with a fright.
“Ohdearie, Mr Van Eck. Please do a kindness in making yourself more noticeable before you keel me over with such a fright.” Annaliese said. Placing her hand to her chest and shaking her head. Staff would never usually speak so familiarly to the master of the house. But Annaliese had practically raised Wylan, and had been a close companion to Wylans mother. Right until the end. Annaliese was family at this point. Which was why it was somewhat hard to see Kaz lying about himself so openly to her. But there was no other choice, and it had been Wylans idea to lie in the first place.
“I hope you don’t mind, I took the servant entrance to come in. I saw Annaliese was already up and I did not want to wake you.” Kaz said, he smiled so warmly at Wylan that it gave him goosebumps. He knew the smile was a lie, but even still, Wylan was just a simple boy and Kaz was a very handsome man who smiled so rarely ever. And although Wylan hated to admit it, Kaz's smile seemed so genuine and beautiful that it could be painted and hung in a museum.
“Mr Daalmans had snuck in so quietly like a cat I didn’t even hear him come in through the back. Just found him in the dining room.” Annaliese chuckled heartedly. Poured a cup of coffee for Wylan and went into the kitchen. If Annaliese was not so good natured and Kaz not so convincing it would be very obvious that Kaz had most likely just come in through the locked front door by using his magical ability to unlock anything. Wylan hated to admit it, but he had always wanted Kaz to teach him how to lock pick, but he did not want to give Kaz the satisfaction of knowing that. Wylan picked up the hot coffee and sat on Kaz’s right, who not surprisingly, seated himself at the head of the dining room table. Once Annaliese was behind closed doors in the kitchen, Kaz, like a flick of a switch, went back to his usual self. His voice went an octave lower, his posture went back to being at a knife's point, even though he still leaned on the table with the coffee mug in his hands. Wylan folded his arms over his chest and sunk deeper into his chair instinctively, pressing his lips to his coffee.
“What business, alley cat?” Wylan asked, smiling softly and taking a sip. Annaliese had forgotten to add the milk. Wylan must have pulled a face because without saying a word or prompting, Kaz had moved the small milk jug over and placed it quietly infront of him. Wylan hated how pleased it made him.
“I thought you could use the company, since Jespers gone on his little holiday.” Kaz said not making eye contact as Wylan poured milk into his coffee. Jesper had only been gone a day to stay with his father and meet his new step mother. Jespers father was not keen on returning to Ketterdam since his last visit. Wylan had been invited, of course, but Wylan unfortunately had far too much to do. And Jesper was going for nearly a month. If he got his work done quick enough, he could join Jesper and his family for a week or so perhaps. But this seemed unlikely, especially if Kaz was already sneaking in through his front door, that usually meant business. Wylan rolled his eyes at Kaz and gave the bastard of the barrel the most ‘get on with it, Brekker’, expression he could muster. Kaz smirked in response.
“You’ve been working closely with Lord Yul-Phan on the steam engines.” Kaz leaned back straight against his chair. Ready to talk business.
“How did-” Wylan stopped himself. Of course Kaz knew. It wasn’t a secret, but he also hadn’t been sharing it readily around. Who was he kidding? If Kaz had not learnt it by his own means, Jesper probably would have told him anyway. “Yes, I have been. Why?”
“How long do you think until the trains will be running in and out of Ketterdam frequently?” Kaz asked, Wylan frowned with worry. There could be a million and one reasons why Kaz wanted to know this, and only two at most would possibly be for good or even legal reasons.
“Why?” Wylan asked and Kaz now rolled his eyes. Wylan knew what Kaz was thinking without him having to say it: Why bother asking? You probably won't like the answer.
“Come on merchling, you know I dont give information away for free.” Kaz said, tapping the table expectantly. Wylan knew from the lightest spark in Kaz’s chocolate eyes and the slightest upturn on his thin pink lips that Kaz was just teasing him. So Wylan reached over and flicked a sugar cube at him. It rolled awkwardly with a soft thud just inches from Kaz’s rested hand. Kaz lazily brushed it aside on the table with his gloved hand and it disappeared.
“Not for a year or so.” Wylan finally said, inspecting where the sugar cube was only seconds ago. “There's a lot of trouble with the train lines. Lots of bridges over canals are still needing to be built.” Kaz nodded expectantly. He probably had already guessed the timeframe and just wanted confirmation.
“But that can't be the only reason you’re here, Kaz. You could have asked in a letter, or sent someone to find out.” Wylan lifted his coffee up to his mouth and found that a sugar cube was now melting in it. Now his coffee was going to be too sweet.
“I need you to get your bunsens and chemistry set out.” Kaz said.
“I told you, I’m not doing that for you anymore.” He said putting his too sweet coffee down.
“You don’t even know what it is for.”
“It’s for you, that's all I need to know.” Wylan looked down at his light brown coffee and the slow dissolving flat side of the sugar cube. Kaz snickered.
“After all these years, youre still so careful and distrusting. Good, it means you’re still not stupid.” Kaz said. Wylan couldnt help but snort in mild amusement. Wylan had seen the worst of Kaz, the lighthouse still haunted him sometimes and the boat after Inej had been stabbed. But Wylan knew that the worst of Kaz was also a result of what made the best of him and why after everything, him and Jesper had still remained close to Dirtyhands. Well, as close as you could be with Kaz. It still did not mean Wylan would just do what Kaz wanted all willynilly. He was trying to make something of himself, change the Van Eck name to actually mean something good.
“I’m sure you have heard of there being a rise in nightphine. “ Kaz said with an unreadable expression. Wylan cringed and shivvered a little. He had heard. It was a mix of morphine and nightcaps. An illegal drug that would put someone almost instantly into a drowsy high state, then land them in a heavy sleep. If the dose was done incorrectly the person would be dead. There have been many reported cases of people using it for a variety of illegal reasons. Some people had woken up in unknown locations, their bodies and clothes discarded. Some brothel workers even waking up after it had been used. A few dead bodies were also found with the drug coming up in autopsies. It had originally been made for medical reasons, but as always, crooks had other ideas.
“I’m not making it for you!” Wylan said in anger and disgust. Shooting to his feet and nearly knocking his chair back. Kaz quickly raised his hands in a gesture of good will and to calm the merchling down.
“I am not asking for you to make it for me, Wylan. If I wanted nightphine I could have barrels of it shipped to me in minutes. What I want you to do for me, is make a chemical that can reveal whether or not the drug has been put into drinks.”
“What?” Wylan sat back down. All anger had quickly rushed out as quickly as it had entered. “Why do you want me to do that? What has this got to do with the trainlines?” Kaz sighed at Wylans questions, exasperated.
“Because there is profit to be made, merchling.” Kaz said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. Wylan had clearly reached the barrel boss’s limits. His words were laced with impatience. “Are you going to do this? Or am I going to have to waste my time finding someone else, someone who doesn’t ask so many obvious questions that could be answered if he actually thought about it for more than two seconds.”
Wylan was a bit hurt at his remark. He had no right to be so harsh. It was early in the morning, he had just woken up, so what if his brain was not working at full capacity yet. What was more frustrating is that Kaz probably already predicted Wylans answer. How could he say anything but yes? Even if Kaz was supposedly doing it just for profit, it could really help a lot of people. But even if Wylans brain was still groggy from sleep, he knew that profit wasnt the only reason. It never was for Kaz. And Wylan had to admit to himself that helping people wasn’t just the only reason he was saying yes. That a small part of him, buried under his moral righteousness, that if someone else had asked him to do this, he might not have been so inclined, with his already busy schedule. This was going to be a lot of late nights.