There's something oddly comforting to the man who's built a fortress around himself to have Inej slip through his office window with ease. A part of him delights both at her talent, but also that she feels comfortable enough to do so without preamble. There's no polite door knocking between them, not any longer. Not that Kaz has ever been polite, but he's always respected boundaries. They both know what it's like to have those crossed, and they've both slowly erased and reworked the ones between them as the years have passed. It's unspoken, and he'd likely shut it down if it ever was given a voice, but it's there all the same.

He's up and his back is to her, washing his hands in his water basin and offering his usual, "Hello, Inej," even before she speaks. Her question draws a slight smirk to his face. Inej is still that pious Wraith, but she's come around to putting Ketterdam's society in its place and pulled down some pegs. Finishing wiping his hands dry, he turns to face her as he's tugging on his gloves.

"A painting called The Waves of Time. It depicts the historical moment when the Council of Tides officially laid claim to Ketterdam and buried the passage between Kerch and Shu Han beneath water. The only painting ever done by this particular artist, who grew famous working with charcoal and pencil. It's about to make its way out of Kerch this evening, but I think it should remain here. For the sake of history and national pride, of course." There's a playful glint to his gaze that says he's lying through his teeth on that last part.