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[roughworkdone]

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[roughworkdone]

"Tool of the trade," he corrects as he sits back. Kaz lifts his dark eyes to watch Inej, to study her reaction to this. He won't call it a gift. It isn't. Inej needs to know how to protect herself and this is a start. She's small but she's fast, and she's a quick learner.

But she can't survive here without teeth and claws. She has the bite; he can provide the claws. Or at least get her collection started.

"Seemed like it would suit you."

More elegant than a gun; also silent when used right. If Inej is to become a spider, silence will always be her ally.

[greetfear]

He's studying her and she does the same right back. His expression doesn't betray anything, is simply neutral, and she feels—anxious. Uneasy. No gift here goes without some price.

But then, this is the person who took her from the Menagerie. He hadn't known anything about her and yet, he'd come back, paperwork in hand, freeing her from Tante Heleen. Physically, at least. The furrows that whole experience left in her soul would be felt for longer, this she already knows.

Carefully, she picks up the knife, immediately satisfied with the weight in her hand. She pulls the sheath off and her mouth opens in an unsaid and startled oh. The blade is beautiful, polished to a gleam and the edges seemingly sharp enough to cut through anything. Her aunt had some like this, used for the knife-throwing act; she knows how much it might be worth.

And knows that worth doubled, here, because now she has something she can really protect herself with. This is no flimsy pocket knife. She slides the sheath back on, turning it over in her hands once before meeting his gaze.

"Kaz, this is—you're sure?" He never seems to do anything he isn't sure of, but she still has to ask.

[roughworkdone]

"It isn't a gift," he rasps. "You won't be thanking me after the first time you use it."

Kaz is almost certain of that, especially if the first time she uses it is in anything but self defense. And it might be, though he has resolved to avoid asking Inej to commit murder if he can help it. Menacing, blackmailing, and who knew what else would come up in her line of duty.

"Consider it a tool of the trade."

He's protecting his investment, or at the very least giving her the means to protect herself.

[greetfear]

He says it isn't a gift, but he isn't hanging the cost of it over her head. So while he might not mean it to be one, it is. Even if it will invite more danger, like he says. She can only imagine the kind of damage this could do and while she's glad to have a reliable looking weapon, she's vaguely nauseated at the possibility of having to use it. Of having to spill blood.

Still, she doesn't let that show, just stands up a little straighter, knife clutched in both hands.

"It's well-made; thank you." She's never owned something this expensive. Even the dresses she wore for the performances with the caravan couldn't compare, most likely.

"Will you need me for the rest of the day?" There's some practicing to do, now.

[roughworkdone]

"Per Haskell wants an update on the Merchant Council's plans regarding Pieter Visser's holdings now that the will has been dissolved."

Family dispute. No named heirs. A significant portion of the property goes to the city in some way or another which means the Merchant Council will have their hands in it. And it's entirely likely that Kaz is more interested than Per Haskell is, but he invokes the old man's name all the same. Inej technically works for him, after all, not Kaz.

"Pim or Anika can help you practice in the mean time. Blade's sharp so watch yourself."

[greetfear]

She has her suspicions about whether Per Haskell would be interested in such a thing– well, that he held more than a passing interest, anyway. It hasn't been long, her time with the Dregs, but she'd felt the undercurrent of it quickly. Had sensed that Haskell was the leader but sat upon his laurels, content to take the path of laziness. The one that gave him easy wins, near bloodless.

The boy sitting before her is nothing like that. He has teeth and claws, ones he isn't afraid to use. She'll be just another one of those weapons, she thinks, but the thought doesn't unsettle her. In a way, it feels traitorous. Per Haskell runs the Dregs, not Kaz; he's the one with the final say.

And yet, every part of her whispers– Per Haskell runs the Dregs, for now.

"Anika's faster." Just a fact, no slight against Pim. She starts to turn, clearly dismissed, but crooks the ghost of a smile at him.

"Not as sharp as someone's tongue, sometimes."