It's a terrible idea, wanting to cosset Kaz Brekker of all people into a towel. Brekker. Rietveld. Neither of them are the sort of men to wrap up into blankets. Jesper's head buzzes from thought to thought, somewhere between alarm and a half-dozen threads of investigation of who Kaz Rietveld might have been.

One thought, clear and urgent, tells him to stop thinking. Jesper steps backward into the little hall and then the bedroom, tugging Kaz along with him.