Archive of Our Own

Deryn stood at the doorway; eyes narrowed against the chilling wind. She glared at the snow, swaddled up in the safe warmth of her quilt.

The mailbox awaited her attention. It stood at the end of the pathway, taunting her. As if challenging her to walk out into the freezing cold.

Deryn continued to glare.

“Deryn, shut the door, you’re letting the cold air in,” Alek groaned from behind her. He peered over her shoulder, a brow raised. Bovril, as always, tucked itself against his neck, happily soaking in his warmth. “I thought you were going to get the mail.”

She blinked slowly; lips set in a frown. “‘S cold.”

“It’s a short walk. I paved away the snow yesterday, so you’re not going to freeze your toes off.”

“Why don’t you do it, then?”

“…I’m warm.”

Deryn rolled her eyes, snorting. She tucked her mouth further down behind the blanket, feet shifting but never touching the freezing pavement.

She’d been warm and cozy and content just a few minutes ago, sitting on the sofa of their quaint little house. Outside, it was a frozen, wintery hellscape that she wanted nothing to do with.

Alek peered at her, eyes flicking up and down as he took in her hesitant stance. A soft, patient sigh escaped his lips, and he reached under the quilt to take ahold of her hand. “Here. We’ll walk together. That’s a nice middle ground, isn’t it?”

Deryn muttered something incomprehensible, eliciting a soft chuckle from the boy.

“Don’t let me slip, now.”

He shuffled past the doorway, grasping Deryn’s hand. He led her down the path, carefully treading over the sheet of ice that had formed over the concrete. In response, Deryn shivered with an unpleasant groan as the wind tousled her hair. “You owe me..”

“What do I owe you?”

“Hot chocolate..”

“That’s as good as done,” Alek smiled, rolling his eyes. “We have some in the pantry that I can make.” He tilted his head at her, and with a soft snicker, tugged Deryn closer. “You didn’t behave this miserable when we were back in the Alps.”

“That was different. I was freezing my dorsal regions off, but I was focused on barking survival.”

“Focused on survival, but you had a warm meal and the opportunity to bathe in the castle..”

Deryn frowned. She stopped in her tracks, her fingers slipping away from his grasp.

Alek blinked and turned around, giving her a confused smile. “I thought you wanted to get this over with quickly.” He paused. “Was it something I said? I was only teasing you.. are you me—“

He yelped as a snowball was flung point-blank into his face, barely missing Bovril by a hair. Alek stumbled backwards into the snow with an oof, sprawled as if he’d been shot in the chest.

Deryn stifled a snicker, already crouching to form another snowball between her hands. She didn’t know the reason for her sudden surge of playfulness, but perhaps stepping out into the cold had reawakened a few particular childhood memories of wrestling with Jaspert in the snow.

Alek sat up with a soft groan, brushing snow away from his face with a sleeve. Bovril still clung to his shoulder, sharp little claws poking through his sleeve as the beastie chattered snippets of conversation, mainly Alek’s grunts.

“What was that for?” The boy lamented, giving her an exaggerated, deeply saddened expression. “After I decided I’d make you hot chocolate, this is how you treat me?”

“Eat snow, Dummkopf,” Deryn grinned. She flung the snowball in her hands, and it missed Alek by a hair. “That was a warning shot.”

“Warning shot?” He sputtered, rubbing away the last of the powder from his face. “What’s gotten into you?” The former prince chuckled softly.

“Never been in a snowball fight?”

“Think I ever had time for that as a prince?” He scoffed. After a moment of regaining his bearings, Alek stood and properly dusted himself off. “You child.”

“I’m sixteen—and so are you! Have some fun,” Deryn smiled. She launched yet another snowball, propelling it weakly at Alek. It slapped against one of his thighs, bursting into chunks of ice and snow.

Alek winced softly as Bovril snickered at him. He eyed Deryn for a moment, feet grinding down into the snow beneath his feet. “You want to play? Fine.”

Deryn hadn’t expected him to lunge. She’d merely blinked and she was on the ground in an instant, the air pushed out of her lungs with a loud huff.

Funny. It reminded her of when they first met—tousling in the snow and ice. Only, this time, it was all innocent fun.

Deryn yelped as his fingers came down at her sides, pressing her into the snow and effectively immobilizing her. Though Alek was practically straddling her, she could tell that he was quite gentle… something Deryn was going to take advantage of.

She squealed as Alek took her by surprise and began to tickle her. Deryn kicked up her legs as the blanket that was previously swaddling her unraveled, exposing her to the biting cold.

Either way, Deryn was much stronger than him. And though it came with great effort, she eventually managed to seize up and grasp Alek by the shoulders, effectively rolling them over. Bovril leapt away with an indignant squeak, landing safely in the snow.

“Ow—ow, hey! How did you do that so fast?” Alek yelped, grasping Deryn’s elbows. But she merely grinned, adjusting her hold on his shoulders.

“This is your idea of fun? Wrestling in the snow?”

“You started it,” Alek huffed, brows furrowed. “Would you look at that? We’re both cold and wet now. Great going, Deryn.”

“We can warm ourselves by the fire,” she shrugged. “What’s the harm in playing in the snow? You practically grew up in it, didn’t you?”

“Sort of..”

After a moment of banter, Alek was back to trying to regain control. He thrashed his legs beneath Deryn, unsettling her enough to roll over. He failed halfway, however, and they were both lying on their sides, cushioned by the crush of snow beneath them.

From then on, it was a fight for the high ground. Deryn managed to hook a leg around his hip, but that was as far as she was able to get. She couldn’t hoist herself onto him, and her free leg, despite being sandwiched beneath Alek, repeatedly slipped on the snow and ice beneath.

They wrestled on the snow for quite some time, disturbing what was once a blanket-smooth surface. Deryn might’ve sustained a few bruises here and there, and though they’d tired themselves out by the end of it, she still enjoyed their tousle. It was refreshing—acting like a kid again.

The blanket was long abandoned, though she’d used it earlier in an attempt to strangle Alek. Lightly, of course! At this point, she was thoroughly soaked down to the bone, so she gave up first and rolled away from Alek, nearly crushing Bovril in the process.

“You didn’t need to pull my hair,” she groaned, clutching her head.

“You didn’t need to pull mine!”

Deryn snickered and merely rolled her eyes. She sat up and offered a hand to Alek—the boy gratefully took it and hoisted himself up to a similar position, caked in snow and ice.

“Oh, look at what you’ve done,” Alek pouted, raising his soaked sleeves. “I need to change now.”

“You were the first to lunge,” Deryn reminded him. She crawled the rest of the way to the mailbox—they were much closer to it after the tousle.

Deryn stood and stomped her feet to loosen the clumps of snow on her clothes. Then, she twisted open the mailbox latch and peered inside. “This thing’s stuffed to the brim,” Deryn noted, pulling out the stack of contents. On the very top sat a brown envelope labeled Dylan Sharp.

“Funny, this one’s addressed to me. From.. oh my god,” she groaned.

“Who is it?” Alek asked, scooping Bovril up from the snow.

“Who?” The beastie mimicked, tucking itself into Alek’s warmth despite his soaked clothes.

“Ma.. funny, she hasn’t contacted me in all this time.” She flipped the letter in her hands. Most important documents from nearby locations such as the zoo often came by messenger lizard. For letters from much further away, either messenger tern or the simple post office would suffice. “What does she want now?”

“You sound annoyed..” Alek pointed out, approaching her side. He pulled the rest of the items from Deryn’s hands and gently nudged her. “You can worry about that later, yes? Let’s go inside and change before we get sick.”

“Right..”

Alek and Deryn, both soaked and cold, eventually shuffled back into the warm house. She’d taken the blanket with her and tossed it in a corner to dry out by the fire later.

They’d been living in the home for nearly a year now. It came with two bedrooms, and was complete with closets, a kitchen, dining room, and parlor. Deryn’s favorite part? The fireplace.

It was all provided by the Zoological Society, of course. The house was technically classified as a dorm, and there were many similar abodes in the area that served the same purpose for other members. Whether or not Dr. Barlow had placed them together on purpose, Deryn had no idea. But either way, she enjoyed living with Alek, with or without their petty squabbles.

Though it could never match the sensation of flying, she supposed she was quite lucky. She had a roof over her head, and they were allotted a good budget to spend on groceries. Every now and then, she’d accompany Dr. Barlow, and so, it was like a breath of fresh air.

It wasn’t flying. But it was something.

Deryn eventually changed into a comfortable set of pajamas, sinking into the sofa a comfortable distance away from the roaring fireplace. Alek had whipped up dinner earlier, and for ‘dessert,’ they indulged in the aforementioned hot cocoa.

Deryn idly watched the flames lick around the hot coals, never pushing past the metal grate. It emanated warmth, unlike the cold, cold world outside. And though Deryn was often quite unsettled around fires, this one, tamed and controlled, was comforting.

She brought her feet up onto the cushion, gently squeezing a sleepy Bovril between her thighs and midsection. The beastie grumbled, twisting around into a better position before shutting its eyes again.

Deryn chuckled, patting its cinnamon-roll behind. She brought her mug to her lips and sipped slowly, appreciating the decadent flavor of rich chocolate.

The letter from her Ma remained on the armrest. Unassuming. Unopened. Frankly, Deryn didn’t want to hear from the woman—not now. God forbid she was begging Deryn to come back home.

After all, Deryn was enjoying her newfound freedom—and she was afraid that stepping inside of her house would bring about not only unpleasant memories but the unsaid notion that suddenly, she was less than a man.

She couldn’t be treated like that now. Not again.

Deryn pinched the letter between her thumb and index finger, quietly watching Alek as he settled himself on the opposite side of the sofa, newspaper in hand.

She loved her Ma, but sometimes, she couldn’t stand that woman. It didn’t help that their last interaction with her had been nothing short of explosive.

“Are you going to keep staring at that letter… or are you going to open it?” Alek asked tentatively, peering at her from underneath his eyelashes, as if she was on the verge of lashing out. “I can read it to you if you’d like.”

“No.. it’s fine. I should stop glaring at the barking thing,” Deryn sighed. She nudged her fingernails into the slit on the top and ripped through the envelope, plucking out the letter inside.

“Why do you dread hearing from her so much?”

“She’s.. you know..” Deryn shrugged. “Insufferable sometimes. The last time I talked to her, we argued.. and I left with Jaspert to London on some pretty bad terms. If anything, I’m glad that I haven’t heard a word from her in all this time.”

“She’s your Mother, Deryn.”

“Unfortunately..” she muttered, eyes flicking down the letter. After one tentative moment, she folded it back up with a long sigh.

“So..?” Alek asked, shuffling closer.

Deryn rubbed her eyes, sinking further down into the sofa. “Jaspert has some time off, so he’s visiting home. That means my Ma wants me home for family dinner too.”

Alek tilted his head. “That certainly isn’t so bad. Glasgow is only a few hours away, and I’m sure your family would appreciate seeing you after so long.”

“Please,” Deryn scoffed. She curled her fingers in Bovril’s fur, gently scratching the beastie’s spine. “I’ll have to sit there for god knows how many hours smiling and withstanding dozens of passive-aggressive remarks from my family. It’s not fun.”

“You’re a different person than who you were when you left, Deryn. You wouldn’t let your family of all people bully you, would you? Besides, I don’t think you’ll ever have it quite as bad as my family. They hated me—and that’s not an exaggeration,” he chuckled. “If there’s something you can survive, it’s a family dinner.”

“I guess..” she frowned. “Blisters, you make a good point, Alek. But still, I’d rather not. The only person I’d look forward to seeing is Jaspert. That’s all.”

“So what will you do? Not respond?”

Deryn shrugged sluggishly. “I can tell them I’m ill. Or busy with work. Anything will work as an excuse I’m sure.”

But Alek frowned. He set his mug down onto the coffee table and slowly inched towards Deryn’s side. With a long sigh, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “It’s your Mother.”

“I don’t owe her anything.”

“No, but..” Alek dipped his head, fidgeting with the short hair on Deryn’s nape. “It’s a good thing to do. I’m sure she misses you dearly, and it certainly won’t kill you to visit her for the first time in a year.”

“I know..”

“Deryn. I’d do anything to see my parent’s faces again. Unfortunately, that will never happen—but you still have family. And though your Mother might have some.. questionable views, maybe it would mean the world to her to see you again. Frankly, it’s the least you can do while you still have her.”

“She’s not..” Deryn wouldn’t say her mother wasn’t a good person. She just had a horribly insufferable traditional mindset. And though she used to judge the very way Deryn breathed around her.. Deryn still loved her.

She wasn’t entirely sure why. Perhaps she was still clinging to the image of her mother from before her Da died. Before she had a little more say in Deryn’s life.

“I just can’t.”

“I can come with you, then. For emotional support,” Alek smiled. “You don’t have to be alone.”

Bovril perked up, flexing its little claws with a yawn. “Not alone,” it repeated with what looked like an awfully smug grin.

“Aye, I suppose I’m not—since I have you two.” Deryn glanced at the letter one final time, frowning thoughtfully. “Alright, fine. I’ll go.”

“There you go. I promise you, it won’t be so bad.”

“Have you ever met my family?”

***

Deryn glared out the window, pulling her bag further up her lap. Bovril sat between her and Alek, muzzle tucked into its body as it slept in a curled-up manner, sandwiched between their legs.

Her leg bounced impatiently, fingers clenching as she took in the familiar view of an approaching Glasgow outside. Her eyes traced over the gentle, curved slopes of distant hills, though the train moved much too quickly to linger for long.

She tapped the heel of her foot against the floor, rubbing her hands together to rid herself of the clammy, sweaty sensation building up on her skin.

For the love of god, she was only seeing family. It wasn’t something to get so worked up about.

Though.. she’s done quite a lot of changing within the past year. Would they even recognize the girl she once was? Would they even accept her, with her short hair and trousers? It shouldn’t make her any less of a girl.

At the very least, she knew Jaspert would be proud—if not a little impressed with how far she’s gotten.

Alek eventually nudged Deryn’s shoulder, giving her a curious glance. “Nervous?”

“Me? Pssh, of course not..” Deryn rubbed her temples. “Well. Sort of. Maybe a little. Yes.”

“You’ll do fine. I swear, Deryn. I’ll be there every step of the way to back you up. They can’t possibly talk down to you in the presence of a Prince, you know.”

“Former prince..” Deryn corrected with a soft chuckle. “Can’t wait to have my smug-as-hell cousins see you walk in. That’ll be something..” Her fingers curled tighter around her bag. With a deep sigh, Deryn tipped her head into Alek’s shoulder, her leg continuing to anxiously bounce. “I’m doing this for you, you know.”

“For me?”

“You practically guilt-tripped me..” she pouted.

“Nonsense, Alek snorted. “I made you come to your senses and realize that avoiding your family was quite a ridiculous thing to do.”

“If you knew them, then you’d understand why.”

She hadn’t fought back when Alek insisted he come largely because she wanted to rub the fact that she was friends with a prince into the faces of her cousins.

Hopefully, Deryn wouldn’t be entirely embarrassed when her aunts nevertheless made assumptions about their relationship. They weren’t official, and yes they’ve kissed a few times, but…

Perhaps Deryn was somewhat in denial. For God’s sake, she lived with him! That fact alone was enough to make any self-respecting woman in her family gasp and clutch her pearls.

In a way, the idea of allowing Alek to come along and see the house she grew up in.. it was mildly embarrassing. After all, she wasn’t rich, and she’d come from very humble origins.

They got by alright, though Deryn was sure it couldn’t come close to the decadence of Alek’s own childhood. She simply wasn’t very keen on letting Alek see her for the ‘peasant’ she was. Then again, she was grateful to have grown up self-sufficient, seeing that it took Alek quite a long time to figure out how to cook and clean on his own.

“Well.. like I said, it couldn’t possibly be any worse than my family.” In a familiar and comforting gesture, Alek pulled Deryn close and tipped his head up so that his chin rested on her head. “I think it was about time I met your family anyway.”

“They’re.. an interesting bunch, I’ll tell you that much. Some are more pleasant to be around than others. I always preferred Da’s side of the family more.”

“What was it like, growing up in Glasgow?”

“It was barking boring,” Deryn scoffed. “Most of the time, I looked forward to going in the hot air balloon with Da. When it was just me and him.. the world seemed to quiet down for a while. Sometimes, when I was done with my chores I’d disappear for the rest of the day, usually to go sit by myself in the fields and draw.”

“It’s a good pastime,” Alek smiled. “I enjoy watching you draw. It’s therapeutic—and in a way, it shows me how your mind works. How those gears in your head turn.” He chuckled to himself. “I focused more on my tutoring lessons when I was younger. I experienced constant supervision, so I wasn’t quite as free as you.”

“Explains why you’re so barking terrible at snowball fights,” Deryn snickered. “But you know what? I’m glad you’re coming with me. If you’re lucky, maybe my Ma will like you.”

“I’ll try to be on my best behavior.”

“Don’t be daft, you always are.”

Deryn dreaded the rest of the train ride after that. Once they departed from the station, Alek insisted that they stop by a flower shop to pick up something lovely for Deryn’s Ma.

Though it was winter, they were able to find a decent stock of flower bouquets fabricated to withstand Glasgow’s winter climate. And because they had time to kill, they lingered for a short while, though it was partly because Deryn was stalling.

She led Alek down the memorized streets of Glasgow—she knew the city like the back of her hand. When she was much younger, her Da had permitted her to run amok with Jaspert, often times getting into trouble in the process.

Though she had only been gone for a year, Glasgow was the same as she’d left it. The bakery, the library, the neighbors.. everything in its rightful place, if not slightly bleak from the ongoing war.

Beyond Glasgow were the fields and hills where her Da’s hot air balloon used to soar.

As they inevitably came closer to her home, Deryn’s stomach began to drop. And though she wasn’t the type to overthink, she was beginning to have second thoughts. They only worsened once she turned the corner, her home finally coming into view.

The lights were on.

Deryn paused midway in her stride, fists pushed deep into the pockets of her coat. She ground her boots into the icy slush beneath her feet, as if her joints had locked up and were too stubborn to move. Perhaps too afraid.

Barking spiders why did I ever agree to such a thing? She thought to herself, staring blankly at the front door despite Alek’s perplexed gaze. It’ll play out as it always does. I don’t want to sit through dinner and smile and bear it all just because they’re family! The second you show your face they’ll all have things to say about your hair and your clothes.. and god forbid they start judging Alek too.

“Deryn?”

“I’m not doing this.”

“Of course you are. We’re only a few paces away from the door.”

“I can’t.”

Adjusting Bovril on his shoulder, Alek turned on his heel and grasped her hand. “You can do hard things, can’t you, Deryn?”

“This is different.”

“You’ve survived a crash atop the Leviathan. You survived a debilitating blow to your knee. You’ve survived a rebellious Istanbul. If anything, you can survive a few hours at your family dinner.”

“You severely overestimate me.”

“Don’t downplay yourself, you’re strong. Here.” He laced his fingers between Deryn’s, then began tugging her forward with great effort. She was stubborn at first, feet rooted firmly in place, but she eventually began to sluggishly trail after him.

“They should be proud of you, Deryn. Your mother should be grateful that she has a fearless daughter like you. I swear, at your command, I’ll convince them that I practically worship you.”

“That’s enough,” Deryn rolled her eyes as they approached the door. She swallowed down the fist-sized lump in her throat as she raised her hand, her fingers hesitating just shy of a few inches away from the door.

You can do hard things, can’t you?

She stifled the last of her anxieties and knocked on the door—quietly at first, though Deryn could hear the sound of voices on the other side.

Frowning, Deryn gave the door a much harder knock. She then stood back and gave Alek a tentative look, and a small part of her prayed that no one would open it up for them.

Alas, Deryn’s prayers went unanswered. The door swung open, revealing her Ma standing in the doorway. Hardly any time passed at all since she last saw the woman, and yet.. she was different, somehow.

Deryn never felt bad about leaving, though that meant she wasn’t around to help with household chores. Either way, her Ma had plenty of family that could help her at any given moment.

Even now, she could feel herself shrinking in front of her Ma’s gaze. The woman blinked at her, blue eyes flicking to her face, her trousers, Alek.. and like a light switch, her expression changed.

“…hey. Ma.”

“There you are! I was beginning to think you wouldn’t show up.” Her lips upturned into a smile, and she moved aside in the doorway. “Come in, come in. Let me take your coat—Alek was it?”

He dipped his head. “Alek Hohenberg. It’s nice to meet you, Miss..?”

“Miss Sharp is perfectly fine,” she smiled, taking Alek’s coat from his hands much too quickly. She promptly hung it on the coatrack, completely glossing over Deryn as she shrugged hers off and shut the door behind her with a foot. She toed off her shoes, watching their interaction.

“I’ve heard all about you from the papers!” Deryn’s Ma smiled as the three of them crowded into the small foyer. She seemed to pointedly ignore Deryn as she glared daggers in her direction, hanging her own coat up with a small frown.

“Yes, I was quite the popular topic some months ago, but it’s cooled down since then. No doubt you’ve seen Deryn mentioned as well.”

“Always the daredevil, that girl.” Deryn’s Ma grinned, her eyes flicking to her daughter. Again, she took in her appearance, expression shifting the tiniest of degrees. “You certainly look different. What on earth have you done with your hair?”

“What on earth?” Bovril sniffed, gaining the attention of her Ma. Deryn gave a subtle sigh of relief as the woman quickly began to fawn over the loris.

Their conversation eventually moved into the parlor, though Deryn’s Ma took more of an interest in Bovril and Alek than her own daughter. At the very least, her family members were fairly excited to see her—though Alek was the main attraction. He was met by what was quite literally a tidal wave of Deryn’s family, namely her aunts.

‘You’re really royalty?’ ‘Are you rich?’ ‘Oh, he’s so polite!’ ’He’s a real prince!’ Each one of them fawning and tripping over each other for a chance to talk to Alek. Despite his obvious discomfort, Deryn found it quite funny. As cruel as it may be, she figured it was a befitting punishment for dragging her out here in the first place.

Whether or not her family knew of what she’s done in the past year, Deryn didn’t particularly care—though she received a few relatively strange looks from her aunts and cousins.

Frankly, Deryn envied the ability to feel at home amongst family. She instinctively curled in on herself in their presence, as if it would somehow make her stand out less—and make her smaller than she was. She couldn’t blame her Da for having been so barking tall.

“You certainly have a large family, Deryn,” Alek eventually whispered once he managed to escape their attention. “Which one is your brother?”

“I ‘spose Jaspert isn’t here just yet,” Deryn sighed, pulling at her collar. “He’s always been terrible with getting places on time.”

The parlor and dining room were both quite crowded. Aunts, uncles, cousins.. most of Deryn’s family practically squeezed into one house. Deryn could swear she could feel the temperature increase with each passing minute from the sheer number of bodies in the house.

She frowned, crossing her arms. “Enough of this. None of them miss me quite as much as him, so they won’t notice that I’m gone. Want to check out my room—“ she glanced at his shoulder. “…Where’s Bovril?”

Alek chuckled bashfully, jutting a thumb over his shoulder. “Your cousins got to it.”

“Are you serious?” Deryn turned to watch her cousins parade the poor loris around—though then again, Bovril seemed to be enjoying the attention well enough.

She raised her brows, snorting at the sight. “Apparently, some wee beastie can garner more attention than a literal prince.”

“I might as well take you up on your offer, we can take our eyes off of Bovril in the meantime,” Alek nodded, chuckling to himself. “Lead the way—show me where you grew up.”

And so, Deryn led him away and up the staircase. The noise of various voices speaking over each other gradually lessened as they ascended.

“It’s not a very big room..” she began, twisting open the doorknob. “But it’s decent. After all, it’s the only room I’ve ever had. Jaspert had the larger one of course,” she rolled her eyes, pushing the door open. It creaked softly on its hinges, and Deryn flicked on the lights.

Like she said, it was quite modest. A twin-sized bed on the right, a personal desk and wardrobe to the left. At her feet were a few stray boxes, and she frowned. “What, is Ma treating my room like her personal warehouse now?” Deryn scoffed, nudging them away with a foot.

She made her way to the back wall and pushed open the blinds, introducing natural light into the room. “Well? Like it?”

“It’s very..” Alek seemed hesitant at first, standing in the center of the room and taking in his surroundings. His eyes flicked from the many sketchbooks stacked atop her desk to the model hot-air balloons hanging from her ceiling. “It’s charming. Very Deryn.”

“I never brought anything with me, other than the essentials,” she shook her head. “I told my Ma not to touch anything or throw anything out, and so far, it looks like she’s kept her word.”

Though it had only been a year since she stepped foot into her own bedroom, it felt like an entirely different world. The walls had seen so many things over the years—her highs, her lows...

The sight of it all brought back so many uncomfortable memories for Deryn, and she could hardly stifle the sensations clawing through her chest.

The days when she’d do nothing but weep after her Da’s death. The afternoons she’d spend hunched over a sketchbook or a book, avoiding her Ma when she was in one of her ‘moods.’ And more recently, the nights that she’d spend poring over the Manual of Aeronautics, waiting for the day that Jaspert would bring her to London to show her worth.

“It’s cozy,” Alek smiled. “You can always bring your belongings back to the house, you know. Make it feel a little more like home.”

“Maybe.. but this place is more like a time capsule for me. One day I just.. packed the things I could carry into a suitcase and left with Jaspert. Never looked back.”

“I’m guessing your Mother wasn’t happy with your decision.”

“Far from it.” Deryn unlatched the window frame and pushed the pane out, introducing a cold yet gentle breeze. “We argued when she learned of what I was doing. I said some things I may or may not regret.. but her words still sting.”

“It felt like she was avoiding you earlier. Is that the reason why?”

Deryn shrugged. “No, that’s just how she is. Always entertain the guests first, you know?”

“She doesn’t seem so bad.. overall, that is. Your family is fairly friendly, aside from a few of your more.. talkative cousins.”

“You’ll get used to it.”

Alek paced around the small room, continuing to take in the sight. A light layer of dust had settled over her belongings, and Deryn figured, bitterly, that Jaspert’s room was likely pristine.

She bent over to place the stray boxes in a pile, frowning at the labels. “For her, Jaspert was always the favorite child. The boy. The eldest.” She rolled her eyes. “God, he was a menace when we were younger.”

“So are you,” Alek pointed out. “I always wanted siblings, though I suppose that would’ve made the matter of inheritance much more harder on my father. Maybe it stemmed from the craving to interact with someone my own age.”

“It was our petty squabbles and fights that made me as strong as I am today, so Jaspert’s not all that bad. He picked on me a bit, but he’s always been there for me. After all, he was the person that got me to London to start my journey anyway.”

“So I’m guessing you were a daddy’s girl, then.”

“Oh, my Da adored me,” Deryn smiled. She shut the window and pulled over the latch, eyeing the familiar landscape beyond the glass. Dark clouds were beginning to move in from the horizon. “He let me wear trousers, he taught me how the hot-air balloon worked.. all of his knowledge was passed on to Jaspert and I, but me especially. He gave me his love of flying, after all.”

“I would’ve loved to meet him,” Alek nodded, running his fingertips along the desk’s surface. His hand eventually settled atop a sewing kit, its respective pin cushions scattered. “Your resemblance to your mother is quite striking, but you have his features in the photographs I’ve seen of him.”

Deryn dipped her head. “They never said it outright, but I think they wanted another boy after Jaspert. Im sure they were disappointed to receive me.” Though it hurt, Deryn came to terms with the fact a long, long time ago. Her parents still loved her, yes, but she felt that she fell short of their expectations. Perhaps she spent her entire life trying to make up for that.

She was sure her mother was even more deeply disappointed to find that her daughter was more like a son than anything else. Ironic.

“Then it’s their loss. Whether or not you’re the kind of person they anticipated, you’re very special, Deryn. And I’m glad that you’re in my life.”

“Think so?”

“I know so. If I’m being entirely honest, I wanted to come here because I thought it would allow me to learn a little more about you. Not that I don’t already appreciate you..”

“I thought you said it was for moral support.”

“That too.”

Alek’s gaze swept over the room once again. He turned, eyeing the wardrobe. He gave Deryn a tentative glance before opening it up before she could object, tilting his head at the inner contents with curiosity. “…dresses.”

“What else did you expect to find?” With a frown, she nudged Alek aside and closed up the doors. “You shouldn’t be surprised to see that. I’ve spent more time wearing dresses than I have wearing trousers.”

“I’m not surprised! It’s just that, well..” Alek chuckled. “It’s difficult to picture you wearing anything aside from your usual. I’ve only seen you wear a dress once, and even then, that was a one-time event.”

“It sure was..” Nothing could ever contain her frustration regarding dresses and skirts. They were suffocating pieces of apparel that she would’ve burned if she had the chance. She only began to wear them more frequently after her Da’s death—when suddenly, her Ma had much more of a say in her life.

It was as if they were waiting for her Da’s influence to stop rubbing off of her. Like a kind of predator, they lied in wait in order to strip her of what made her truly comfortable.

Deryn Sharp was certainly no doll. It was only through sheer determination alone that she survived it all intact.

“Many of your family members gave you strange looks,” said Alek. “How much do they know about your whole.. situation?”

Deryn shrugged. “Only my Ma knew, but she has no idea how to keep her mouth shut. I’m sure my family knows what I’ve done to some degree.. after all, that stunt in Istanbul made headlines.”

“Well, they’re certainly charming people.”

“Most of them share the same mindset with my Ma. They won’t voice their displeasure with the things I’ve done, but they’ll make it clear. Thus their.. backhanded compliments and passive aggressive behavior.”

“Like I said, I’m sure they won’t dare to belittle you at the dinner table—not in front of a guest,” Alek assured. “And if they do, then I won’t hesitate to put them in their place.”

Deryn dipped her head appreciatively. “You’re optimistic.. but thank you. Though I still can’t believe you convinced me to come here anyway.”

Funny, how both Deryn and Alek were practically the runts of their respective families. Though, arguably, Alek had it much worse.

He folded his hands behind his back, shifting on his feet. “You know, I had a bit of an idea, if you’d be willing to hear me out.”

“Aye?”

“You should take the opportunity some time today to just.. sit your Mother down and explain to her what you truly feel—about how she treats you, about how you want to be treated. You shouldn’t have to bear such a wide rift between you two.”

Deryn blanked. She stared at him for a moment as if he’d grown another head—and then she laughed.

Alek’s brows furrowed. “What did I say?”

“Do you think I can really reverse years of this behavior with a conversation? Alek, you must be dafter than I thought you were! I can’t tell you how many times I’ve tried to explain my side of things to that woman.”

“But this time it’s different. You’re self-sufficient now, Deryn. You’re brave, aren’t you?”

She deadpanned at him. “Bravery has nothing to do with it. My Ma is the most stubborn woman in the world, believe me.”

His perspective was awfully optimistic, naïve, and relatively tone deaf. It simply wasn’t that easy to have an earnest heart-to-heart—not when her Ma’s own heart was hidden behind impermeable lock and key.

Frankly, she’d never see Deryn as anything but a disappointment. By this point, she learned to accept it as it was, though it hurt nonetheless. She wouldn’t sacrifice her comfort just because her own mother had standards over what was and wasn’t acceptable.

“Chances are, you won’t see her in years after this,” Alek continued to press.

“And that’s exactly how I like it.”

“Deryn!”

“What? I only came here to appease you.”

“You know that isn’t the only reason.”

“Of course it is.” Deryn rotated a foot towards the doorway, shifting uncomfortably before his gaze. With a deep sigh, she shook her head. “Stop trying to take apart my relationship with my Ma. It’s tangled—it’s rotten. So just.. stop, okay? This isn’t a problem you can fix this time. Now let’s go back downstairs.”

“Oh, don’t shrug this off,” he frowned, following her through the short hallway outside the room. Alek grasped Deryn’s shoulder only for her to nudge it off.

Funny. This scene felt painfully familiar.

As luck would have it, her Ma was waiting at the foot of the stairs. She pressed her hands to her hips and cocked a brow at Deryn. “Why were you upstairs? I need your help in the kitchen!”

Deryn blinked and glanced at Alek. With a single, assuring nod, she shooed him off and turned back to her Ma. “You know I’m here as guest, right?”

“And you’re my daughter! As far as I know, that precedes everything.”

“Ma..” she groaned, glaring daggers at the woman.

“Oh, hush! It will only take a moment, come.”

A moment might as well turn into ten minutes. And then ten minutes will turn into thirty. Then thirty into an hour. She could stand up for herself, but she’d rather not risk putting her Ma’s mood at stake.

Alek’s stood a handful of feet away, giving her a tentative look. He stepped forward, approaching Deryn’s Ma. “If you’d like, I can assist—I’m quite proficient in the kitchen, Miss Sharp.”

But the woman smiled and shook her head, clasping her hands together. “Nonsense, you’re a guest! Go on and socialize, you shouldn’t be getting your hands dirty.”

Deryn pinched the bridge of her nose. “It’s fine, Alek. She’s right, you’re a guest. It won’t take too long.”

He turned hesitantly, gaze flicking between Deryn and her mother. After a moment, he dipped his head. “Alright, then.”

When Alek was gone, Deryn pivoted towards her Ma. “Ten minutes,” she asserted.

“You’ll help me for as long as I need you,” her mother sniffed, turning toward the kitchen. Deryn followed sluggishly, glancing up to locate Alek in the house like a toddler being dragged away from her friends at the playground.

“This house is full of women that can help you, you know..”

“You’re good in the kitchen, and you’re my flesh and blood,” her Ma shrugged, grasping for a wooden bowl. She set it in front of Deryn, revealing a stack of potatoes. “I need these peeled.”

“Are you serious? This will take me a while!”

“Not if you work quickly. Besides,” her Ma waved her hand. “It’s part of the final dish. Don’t be so dramatic, Deryn.”

“Dramatic?” She drawled behind grit teeth, stifling her growing anger. At least, she wouldn’t have to make small-talk with her relatives.

Deryn couldn’t deny that it still stung like hell.

She pulled out a kitchen knife and began to methodically pluck the potatoes from the bowl, pressing the handle firmly into her calloused palm.

Deryn went about the task meticulously yet quickly, slicing through the skin of the potatoes with practiced accuracy. Her Ma bustled around in the kitchen behind her, checking on the various pots and pans. It already smelled like a feast, but Deryn couldn’t find her appetite within herself.

Somewhere down the line, she heard a judgmental ‘tsk’ behind her shoulder. Deryn glanced over, frowning at her mother. It took every ounce of willpower within herself not to lash out. “What?”

“You’re cutting off far too much! Honestly, Deryn, you used to be good at this. Peel them lightly.”

“That’s what I’m doing.”

“Not to me you are.”

“Fine. Fine.” You’re right, and I’m wrong, that’s always the case, isn’t it? She thought bitterly, handling another potato. She carved away at its skin, centering the blade away from her exposed palm.

Of course, Deryn still felt her Ma’s eyes watch as she worked.

“You’ve gained a lot of callouses since then,” the woman noted, raising a brow. “Oh,” she clicked her tongue. “Your skin used to be so smooth, what happened?”

“Hard work,” Deryn said with a clipped tone.

“Man’s work,” her Ma corrected. “I’m glad that you decided that it wasn’t for you.”

“Wasn’t really my decision..” she responded carefully. “It wasn’t in my best interest.”

“Of course it wasn’t.” Her mother nudged a cutting board over, setting a stalk of celery atop its surface. “Those trousers don’t flatter you, Deryn.”

“Then it’s a good thing I chose them for comfort over appearance..”

“It makes you look like a boy,” she scoffed.

That’s the desired effect, Deryn thought bitterly, though she refrained from saying it out loud—lest she incur her Ma’s wrath.

“And your hair, did you really have to go so.. well, short?”

“Blame Jaspert for that, then. He showed me how to cut it.”

“That boy, such a bad influence,” her Ma chuckled fondly. “Maybe you’re the way you are because you associated with his friends rather than making ones of your own.”

With a low groan, Deryn set the knife down, gripping its handle hard enough to leave a bruise in her palm. “You know what? Can we talk about anything other than me?”

“I haven’t seen you in a year, Deryn, can you blame me?”

“Again. Something other than me.” Just to avoid the unnecessary comments.

“Mm.. fine,” she shrugged, chopping the celery. “That beastie of yours, what was his name again?”

“Bovril. And it’s an it,” Deryn pointed out. “Fabricated creatures don’t usually have genders. Prevents them from going out into the wild to breed and wreak havoc on the ecosystem.”

“Oh. So how do they reproduce in the first place?”

That was.. a good point. Deryn recalled Bovril growing in an egg, though it was a mammal. Then again, it could have some platypus life strands in its blood, likely to make transport of such a creature easier. “No idea.”

“That’s odd. Isn’t it like playing—“

“It’s not like playing God, Ma.”

“I thought one of the Darwinist rules were that you cannot create a beast of reason. So why does it talk?”

“Bovril.. mimics,” she explained. “It’s called a Perspicacious Loris, and it was designed to have the tendency to say useful things. It gathers information.”

“Oh, good. I was getting nervous, having it around your cousins.”

“Bovril’s harmless—just like a cat, Ma.”

“I suppose.. and that boy, Alek. Is he really Austrian royalty?”

“You’ve read the papers, haven’t you? Anyway, it’s not like it matters now. He doesn’t have a claim to the throne, and if anything, it’s better that way.”

“Hmm.. that’s a shame. He’s such a nice boy! I see why you invited him. Does he treat you well?”

Deryn skeptically narrowed her eyes, but she focused on her work peeling the potatoes. “Why wouldn’t he? He’s my friend.”

“Friend, yes..”

“Don’t get any funny ideas. It’s not like that.”

Deryn’s Ma raised a brow. “I hope not! In what world is a boy attracted to a short-haired, trouser-wearing girl anyway?”

Deryn deadpanned.

“I was joking, honey.”

Sure you were. Deryn scowled to herself, dipping her head as she hurried her pace with the knife—anything to make this conversation end.

Alek’s words from earlier echoed in her mind, and begrudgingly, she pushed his suggestion back down. How could she ever have a reasonable conversation with a woman who said things like that to her?

Frankly, it was a little bit degrading. Alek hardly cared about how she dressed, and it was quite rude to assume otherwise. It was a wonder that he was attracted to her anyway.

A commotion eventually stirred up in the parlor once the doorbell rung. Deryn’s Ma perked up, tilting her head as she raised her cutting board and pushed the contents into an adjacent pot. “It must be Jaspert. That boy, always late,” she tsked.

“Finally,” Deryn sighed. The one person worth seeing, she thought as she glanced down at her hands. She focused on completing her task before leaving the kitchen, but one accidental flick of her wrist and the knife slipped, slicing open her palm.

She hissed an expletive, peering up to find that her Ma had left the kitchen, effectively abandoning her.

Deryn glared pointedly at the blood welling up from the cut, lips set in a deep frown. It stung like hell, but at this point she was far too pissed to even care about the pain. She merely bit down on her lip and moved to the countertop, staunching the blood flow with a cloth towel.

I should’ve been the first person the greet him, Deryn thought bitterly, flexing her hand. After all, the last time she saw her brother was before she was swept up by the Huxley. They exchanged letters in recent months, though nothing could compare to seeing his face in person.

She sighed and examined her wound. Fortunately, it was shallow and only a mere few inches across—nothing to worry about.  Still, it bled profusely.

Deryn briefly peered around the corner, shifting on her feet. With a disgruntled huff, she pivoted and made her way to the bathroom, properly rinsing out the cut.

She lingered for much longer than necessary, holding her open palm beneath the steady stream of water. Deryn stared, furiously rubbing the blood away from the surrounding skin.

Maybe she didn’t want to see Jaspert all that badly, actually. A small part of her wondered if he’d be disappointed in her for leaving the Leviathan. Perhaps Deryn was just one great big waste of his efforts.

Her fingernails scratched at the cut as she inadvertently drew more blood.

“Ma, I cut my hand playing with Jaspert!” A seven-year old Deryn cried to her mother, holding up her hand. She was filthy—knees streaked green, Jaspert’s old overalls that were much too long rolled up to her thighs.

The woman had stared at her for a long time, fingers curled into her newspaper. It was a disappointed expression Deryn knew all too well.

Her Ma didn’t approve of her playing in the dirt like this, though it was her word against Deryn’s Da. She made her distaste in her daughter’s behavior quite clear, and had only allowed her to play outside once she’d completed her chores.

“That’s what you get for roughhousing like a boy,” she’d frowned, crouching to examine Deryn’s hand. “He’s such a bad influence.”

“What’s so bad about that?” She cocked her head to the side.

“For heaven’s sake, you’re a girl, Deryn.”

“So?”

“Girls don’t play in the dirt.”

Deryn’s brows furrowed as she pressed her fingernails into the cut, drawing forth a watery stream of blood that mixed into the water.

It hurt. Blisters, it hurt. But Deryn couldn’t find it inside herself to stop. Damn it, she wanted it to sting, for no reason other than the fact that she was furious with herself.

“Deryn?”

Her eyes flicked up from the stream of water. Alek stood in the doorway wearing a concerned expression, lips pursed as he trailed his expression from her face to her hand.

“What are you doing in here?”

Deryn swallowed, forming her injured hand into a fist. It was too late, though—Alek had already seen the damage. “I.. cut myself peeling potatoes..” she muttered.

“You’re only making it worse, rubbing so hard like that,” Alek gently chastised. He took her wrist in his hands, gently uncurling her fingers. “It’ll scar if you don’t treat it right.”

Her eyes tracked the diluted blood that streamed down her forearm, allowing the rivulets to drip back into the sink, joining the flow of water. “Yeah..”

With a patient sigh, Alek nudged open the medicine cabinet, selecting a roll of bandages and a tube of ointment. “Honestly, Deryn. I take my eyes off of you for one moment.”

There was no malice in Alek’s voice, and yet she instinctively pulled her shoulders closer. “You know what? Can we just go home?”

Alek patted her palm dry. “You’ve been here for this long, Deryn. We haven’t even had dinner yet—you can survive a few hours more, can’t you?”

Deryn shifted on her feet, chewing on her lip with a frown. “I suppose. I’m just not enjoying this.”

“I’m proud of you, you know.” He applied the ointment, then carefully wound the roll of bandages around her open palm.

“I’m sure you’re the one person who actually wanted me to be here,” Deryn scoffed, rolling her shoulders. “Have you met Jaspert yet?”

“No—I went to check on you first.”

“You just want me to properly introduce you myself, don’t you?”

“..maybe.”

“He doesn’t bite,” Deryn rolled her eyes. Once Alek let go of her hand, Deryn splayed out her fingers to examine her bandaged palm. “Thank you for the help.”

“It certainly wasn’t a problem.” He grasped her uninjured hand, gently pulling her out of the bathroom. “Once you get some food in your stomach, your mood will improve, won’t it?”

“Sure..” Oh, Alek. How can you be so enthusiastic?

They made their way back into the parlor only to find that Jaspert was the subject of attention at the moment. He was crowded by family, and his gaze never lifted to meet Deryn’s. But perhaps he was looking for her.

“That’s him, right?”

“The one and only,” she nodded. “I swear, he only gets taller every time I see him.”

For some time after her Da’s death, she couldn’t properly look Jaspert in the eye. Perhaps it was because he looked so, so similar to their Da—so much so that she couldn’t so much as catch a glance of his eyes, lest she be painfully reminded of the man.

In his eyes was a stern kindness that was practically identical to their Da. His face shape, his cheeky personality.. frankly, Deryn was jealous, especially since she ended up looking more like her Ma.

Eventually though, their gazes inevitably locked. Deryn stood, rooted in place as her brother padded across the room with a few, long strides. Thoroughly delighted, he swept Deryn up in a bone-crushing hug, and she helped in surprise.

“Jaspert—Jaspert you’re suffocating me!” She hissed like a cat being unwillingly smothered—the only difference was that she didn’t have claws.

The boy laughed and eventually backed away, placatingly raising his hands. “I haven’t seen you in a year! Can’t an older brother be excited?” His identical gaze flicked up and down, practically admiring Deryn’s appearance. “You look different. You look good—especially when you’re in clothes that aren’t mine.”

“Sod off..” she bashfully waved a hand. “How’s the Minotaur and its crew?”

“As lively as ever.” His lips stretched into a grin. “I can’t believe you ditched serving on the Leviathan, that’s practically every airman’s dream! It was practically an act of god that you flew off with that Huxley.”

Providence.. Deryn thought with an inwards scoff, recalling her conversation with Alek back in Japan. Rather, it was fate. Providence doesn’t exactly perform miracles for a commoner like me.

She rolled her shoulders, nudging Alek’s side. “Well, it’s definitely led me to plenty of hijinks that have certainly put me in a few.. unique situations. This is Alek! If you’ve been following up with the news and my letters, then you know exactly who he is.”

“Right right right, Aleksander Hohenberg! The famous prince that even the guys on the Minotaur wouldn’t stop talking about. You’re Hapsburg royalty, aren’t you? The son of the two aristocrats that started this whole sodding war, right?”

Jaspert came off a little.. insensitive, but that was just how he was—blunt. Alek seemed to take it well; however, and he meekly held his hand out to Jaspert. “The very one. Though I wouldn’t say royalty, not these days.”

“They say you rejected your inheritance, didn’t they?” Jaspert mused, taking ahold of Alek’s hand and adamantly shaking it. “You were supposed to be the first in line for the throne, weren’t you?”

“Well.. yes,” he dipped his head. “But as it turns out, life has other callings. You can thank Deryn here for convincing me to walk the path that I’m on at the moment.”

“I’ve heard plenty about you from her letters, you know. She speaks very fondly of you! If I didn’t know better, I’d say she’s gushing..”

“Jaspert!” Deryn scowled.

“I’m playing, I’m playing, but it’s really nice to meet you! I hope you haven’t been off-put by all this chaos in this house. We have a loud family.”

“It’s charming,” Alek smiled. “I’ve met and talked to most everyone here. Deryn told me what it was like, growing up with you.”

“It’s funny that you’re the first person who found out about her little secret,” Jaspert scoffed. “And I thought you were good with keeping them, Deryn.”

“He was an exception.” Well.. not exactly the first person, Deryn thought with an inward scoff. “The Leviathan might be long gone for me, but I’ve found meaning in what I do now.”

“As long as you’re happy.. I couldn’t have imagined that you’d give up on flying like that.”

“It wasn’t easy..”

They talked for a little while, and as Jaspert and Alek drifted off to have a one-on-one, she could swear that she heard her brother threatening the poor boy. Overprotective as hell, that one.

Deryn attempted to fade into the background as often as she could, largely avoiding her mother whenever she popped out of the kitchen and some of the more.. well, judgmental aunts.

At some point, they finally gathered around the dinner table in the room adjacent to the parlor. Alek sat on her right; Jasper on her left.

The table was laden with all sorts of dishes—cullen skink, savory pies, haggis, and of course, bread. All of which Deryn had grown up eating. Her Ma had certainly outdone herself.

As savory as the food appeared, Deryn couldn’t find her appetite within herself. She felt strangely sluggish as she moved to fill her plate, and as the chatter started back up again, Deryn tucked her shoulders inward.

Jaspert, of course, entertained their family with stories of his exploits on the Minotaur, though Deryn wasn’t in the slightest way amused. After all, she’d done far more important things when she was stationed on the Leviathan, and she certainly wasn’t bragging about it!

Alek ate happily, complimenting her Ma’s cooking fairly often. Deryn, meanwhile, rested her elbows on the table when no one was looking, stirring her spoon around in her bowl.   

Back on the Leviathan, the middies weren’t typically expected to follow traditional dinner table manners when eating in the mess hall—that is, unless they were in the presence of a superior. It had taken Deryn quite some time to become lax with her manners, considering her aunts and Ma had raised her with them in mind. And if she was too uptight about them, then she’d stand out.

“Can you believe we went as far as Serbia?” Jaspert gloated, stabbing into his meal with a fork. “We saw the fighting in the distance, but we were only there to resupply our army.”

Deryn tilted her head. “That’s nothing. I was in Istanbul for three months,” she grinned, nudging her brother. “Undercover.”

“I saw it on the papers,” one of her aunts mused, brows furrowing a little. “You were swinging from a walker! My god, Deryn, I had no idea it was you until your mother told me.”

Her cousin, Maisie, sitting across the table from Deryn sniffed skeptically. Bovril perched on her shoulder like a parrot, but it was solely interested in the crackers she’d been feeding it. “Three months? I doubt that. You sound like you’re trying to sound better than Jaspert.”

“It’s barking true. Alek can defend me!” Deryn rose slightly from her seat, but a commanding glare from her Ma forced her to settle back down. “You couldn’t ever dream about doing anything half as exciting.”

“Nnno,” the girl drawled, curling a lock of hair around a finger. “I don’t exactly need to pull off some eye-catching stunt to be worth something.”

Deryn grit her teeth. “Worth something? That’s barking rich, coming from you!”

“Girls!” Her Ma commanded from her place at the end of the table, giving Deryn a critical look. “Language, Deryn.”

“Aye..” she groaned, sinking down into her seat. Alek gave an amused snort, and he whistled softly for Bovril. The beastie looked up and quickly scampered off Maisie, crossing the table in a heartbeat.  It assumed its usual perch on Alek’s shoulder, nibbling on a cracker in hand.

“Sodding,” the Loris snickered into his ear.

“Well..” Another of Deryn’s aunts, this time Maisie’s mother, gave a strained smile. “Tell us, Aleksander. What made you work in the Zoo of all places?”

“Please, I prefer just ‘Alek,’” he said, respectfully dipping his head. “It certainly wasn’t my goal. But ever since I learned that Deryn would be working there alongside the director, Dr. Lora Barlow, I decided to follow in her footsteps. It’s a good position, and I can work on potentially ending the war from a distance.”

“It’s just… a little odd,” said the aunt, the surrounding family murmuring in agreement. “I mean, if it’s to look after Deryn—”

“I don’t need looking after,” Deryn snorted. “He came with me out of his own willingness, that’s all. Working at the Society is very fulfilling.” She laced her fingers together beneath the table. “We’ve become good friends.” Good friends and nothing more. And though Deryn knew that fact was far from the truth, she’d rather not be heckled by her family.

“That’s certainly something..” the woman mused.

Maisie raised her brow. “If that’s not the most obvious thing in the world..”

Deryn had decided before dinner that she’d keep her words short and simple, lest she bite the proverbial hook her family seemed to always have hanging out in front of her face.

Unfortunately, she simply couldn’t keep her mouth shut and keep the attention off of herself, thus biting down on the bait. Deryn realized this when yet another one of her aunts piped up, stirring her food around on her plate. She glanced side long at Deryn, lips lifted into an innocent smile.

“Ah, by the way..” she spoke, voice much too sweet. “Have you been doing anything with your hair lately, dearie?”

Deryn’s eyes flicked up. “Pardon?”

The woman leaned forward, placing her fingers beneath her chin. “Your hair, it’s so.. short now. I miss seeing you with your lovely long hair, it was gorgeous!”

Deryn tensed, but she raised her chin and set her jaw, staring her aunt dead in the eyes. “I prefer it this way. Long hair gets in the way when you’re in the air, especially when we’re traveling someplace hot.”

She’d rehearsed this in her head—neatly categorized every potential nitpick; fully loaded with her predetermined responses as her ammunition. “And it sells the look.”

The woman was not easily swayed, however. She gave a disapproving ‘tsk,’ disapproval written across her face. “But it just doesn’t look feminine, dear,” she huffed. “I miss seeing you with your pretty dresses and your hair all done up like a proper girl.”

There was a thin, thin line that her aunt was in danger of crossing. Deryn, however, kept her ground, albeit sighing inwardly. A small part of her hoped that Alek was watching and finally realized why she had preferred to stay home.

The boy’s gaze flicked over at her—as if silently willing her not to snap at the woman. Even Bovril watched quietly, hushed by the tension sitting in the air.

“Apparently, I haven’t been a proper girl by your standards in quite a long time. I prefer it this way.”

The aunt wasn’t yet ready to let the topic go. She took a bite out of her food, falling silent for a moment. Then, tone dripping with condescension, she leaned in again. “You know,” she sniffed. “Boys like long hair.”

“I’m sorry, but are you a boy if you know so much about them?” Deryn scoffed, earning herself a silencing glare from her Ma.

Alek snorted into his cup, seemingly trying his best to hold back a laugh. Deryn’s quick retort had silenced her aunt fairly quickly, though her Ma’s gaze inevitably bore into her, as if in a silent warning. Behave, said her gaze, but Deryn only glared back.

A heavy silence fell over their portion of the table. Her Ma’s gaze was nearly tangible—she radiated silent judgement, though Deryn didn’t so much as care. As the silence settled in like molasses, Maisie’s mother clapped her hands together.

“Oh, speaking of boys, I was speaking with a neighbor the other day, and she’s got a lovely young son your age—“

“I’m busy with work, and I’m hardly ever here,” Deryn quickly interrupted, attempting to silence her aunt.

“Ah, yes, but really. A girl like you should start thinking about family in a few years.” She gave a coy smile. “And it would be best to begin meeting boys your age.”

Deryn smiled tensely. “I don’t have plans to ever really settle down.”

“Why ever not? You’re at the prime age to start looking! You should be thinking about your future, settling down, starting a family. A girl your age should be contemplating motherhood, especially once you’re in your twenties.

Deryn bristled at her words, the excessive sweetness in her aunt’s words nauseating. “I’m sixteen.”

She chuckled nevertheless and waved a dismissive hand. “Oh, you’re never too young to begin thinking about these kinds of things, dear.”

Her Ma nodded along with her sister. “You have lots of time to consider your options, but these things do happen. After all, the greatest thing a woman could do is become a mother.”

Deryn’s jaw stiffened, and she felt her teeth grind against each other. Her worth didn’t reside in the fact that she could make life, and frankly, it was insulting to think so. She worked just as hard as any other man to cement success in her life, so every word that came out of her mother’s mouth was something that discredited her efforts.

Deryn gripped her fork. “I don’t intend to have children. Ever. My life revolves solely around the Zoological Society, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

The other aunt gave a soft gasp, setting her silverware down. “No children? Deryn, that’s unthinkable. Every woman wants to be a mother as some point in her life.”

Maisie’s mother nodded. “You say that now, but you’ll change your mind. Motherhood is the most fulfilling thing a woman could ever experience.”

“Sounds like hell..” Deryn muttered.

“Youthful rebellion,” the first aunt sniffed, shrugging dismissively. You’ll change your mind when you meet the right man and fall in love. Frankly, there’s a possible candidate right at this table—“

“Can we talk about something else?” she interrupted quickly, sensing Alek’s mild embarrassment rolling off of him. Bovril crawled off his shoulder and crossed the table yet again, this time accompanying one of Deryn’s much younger cousins. The girl’s eyes sparkled as she picked up the creature, her hair pulled into two neat pigtails.

“A woman without children..” she mused. “What purpose does she have in life then?”

“I can name a few..” Deryn spoke from behind grit teeth, stabbing her fork into her food.

Before the woman could double down, Alek cleared his throat, joining the conversation. He seemed much too concerned about Deryn to allow her to be at the mercy of her aunts.. something she was deeply grateful for.

“Well,” Alek said smoothly, addressing the aunt in a firm tone. “If we’re listing purposes in life, then may I suggest not reducing brilliant women to their reproductive systems?”

He turned just enough to meet Deryn’s eyes, then gave her a reassuring nod. “After all, I can’t imagine history remembering Florence Nightingale for her womb.”

The table fell silent once more, each and every set of eyes on Alek. Nevertheless, he kept speaking, his tone even and final. “The lives of great women and the impact of women go far beyond the act of reproduction.”

Deryn blinked at him, relatively surprised at the fact that he was defending her. Though she knew that he was deeply chivalrous and held Deryn to extreme respect, he wasn’t entirely known for confrontation of all things.

The aunt that had previously been speaking took a moment to recover from the momentary shock. She let out a dry chuckle, grabbing ahold of her silverware. “Ah, the naïvety of youth. A man talking about women’s rights. How charming. He’s certainly a suffragette.”

“Alek is not naïve.”

At that, Jaspert drummed his fingers against the table, giving Alek a grateful look. “Well,” he started with a smirk that rivaled Deryn’s own when she was feeling particularly rebellious. “At least someone around here has enough sense to speak what needs saying.”

Deryn clutched her trousers, quietly eyeing her brother, giving him a slight nod of appreciation. His statement seemed to draw the current topic to an end, and Deryn felt the smoldering flames that had risen within her extinguish.

Then Maisie had to open her bloody mouth again, her bratty lips lifted into a smirk. “I don’t even know why you came if you’d be arguing with everyone all night.”

Deryn scowled, glaring at the girl. “I came here for Jaspert’s sake.”

“Or did you want to antagonize everyone in the room because you can’t just accept what you’re told for once?” She scoffed, crossing her arms.

“Maisie..” Deryn warned dangerously, the conversation around them gradually picking back up again.

“What? It’s true. Honestly, Alek’s probably here because he feels sorry for you.”

“You know what? What of your boy problems? For the love of God, Maisie, not a single sodding boy in Glasgow would ever want to date you!”

“Language..” her Ma muttered.

Maisie’s expression, however, immediately twisted into something ugly and angry. “God, Deryn, you go ahead and act like a boy but you’re so sensitive! I was only saying that—“

“No,” Deryn snapped, shoulders squared. “You weren’t only saying,” she scoffed, mimicking Maisie’s voice in a childish manner. “You were smirking like you always do. Thinking that I’m some sort of joke because I don’t wear a dress or blush at every boy that passes.” She clutched the fabric of her trousers with a white-knuckled grip.

Maisie, caught off guard by the sudden sharpness of Deryn’s tone, attempted to backtrack in order to deflate the situation. “That’s not—“ she started, but Deryn cut her off with a sharp gesture.

“Don’t play innocent with me,” Deryn couldn’t help but hiss, ignoring Alek’s fingers that suddenly latched around her wrist, almost pleading her not to go any further. “You’ve been making snide comments all evening. You’ve been waiting for the chance to dig at me.”

Maisie had the decency to look slightly ashamed. “I didn’t mean—“

“You know, you say a lot for how many times a sodding boy has rejected you.”

Maisie flinched at the insult as if stung by the harsh words. A few gasps echoed around the table—even the aunts seemed taken aback by Deryn’s outburst.

Her mother finally raised her voice, giving her daughter a disapproving stare. “That’s enough. This is supposed to be a nice evening.”

“Bum-rag..” Deryn muttered.

Maisie bristled at the insult, her cheeks bright red. Her Ma ignored the muttered comment and shot Deryn a sharp look. “Watch your tone, young lady,” she frowned, voice stern.

Deryn returned to her food as Alek dipped his head. She clutched her silverware with a shaking fist, the room only continuing to tense. It was like a stuffed powder keg, ready to blow.

No doubt Alek felt this. He reached over, gently pulling her free hand away from her trousers. Beneath the table, Alek weaved his fingers between hers, rubbing his thumb against the side of her hand in a comforting gesture.

But Deryn was a coiled snake—tense and ready to strike at the slightest prod or provocation. Though Deryn returned to her food, her words had made their mark—and they seemed to weigh quite heavily on their aunts as they gradually shifted back into small-talk, effectively avoiding the elephant in the room.

Deryn’s fingers drummed incessantly against the table, jaw clenched so tightly that it hurt. Her flesh seethed beneath her skin, though her lips remained shut lest she spit out another insult.

This is what she loathed about being home. The judgement, the remarks, the smug as hell family that would not stop poking the bear.

She wanted desperately to sink into the ground and have the earth rise up to bury her. At least then, she wouldn’t have to sit in the house she’d come to loathe, feeling the incessant gazes drill into her skin as if her family was greedy for something she possessed.

Why should her decisions matter? She’d make a lousy mother, an awful wife, and frankly, she wanted to be rid of each and every one of those so-called ‘womanly duties.’ Was that so hard to respect?

After this, she hoped that Alek regretted convincing her. She appreciated his confrontation, especially after years of all the men in her family—including Jaspert—ignoring her plight.

Well.. Jaspert hardly ignored it, but he simply didn’t defend her most of the time—mainly because he didn’t want to incur their Ma’s wrath.

Deryn clenched Alek’s hand, and she gave him a displeased look. The boy could only smile awkwardly at her, though the expression didn’t quite meet his eyes.

He understood. He cared. And yet he felt sorry for Deryn.

But she didn’t want pity.

Deryn’s Ma, attempting to keep up the façade of a proper family dinner, attempted to steer the conversation to safer topics.  She turned to Alek, voice sweet. “So, Alek, are there any hobbies you enjoy?”

He took the cue and gave her a polite smile. “I do enjoy fencing,” he nodded. “I was trained by a private instructor for a few years.”

“Are you any good?” She probed, feigning innocence.

Deryn could sense the underlying intention in her question. In her own way, she was sizing the boy up.. measuring his worth in terms of Deryn.

She resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

“I’m relatively talented. At least, good enough to defend myself.”

Deryn pinched the bridge of her nose, considering her next words carefully. She really should remain silent, but.. “he’s taught me.”

“Oh?” The woman raised a brow; tone laced in skepticism. “And you’re learning swordplay too, Deryn?”

Perhaps her mother was attempting to picture a mental image of Deryn. Her daughter, dressed in trousers and wielding a blade—she clearly did not like what she saw.

Alek gave a small shrug. “She has talent,” he said simply. “A little unorthodox.. but effective.”

“It’s a good sport,” Deryn dipped her head.

Her Ma wasn’t convinced, however. “Unorthodox indeed. It’s hardly ladylike, isn’t it?”

“Ma, you know times are changing,” she drawled from behind grit teeth. “I don’t care about the opinion that surrounds it. I simply have fun, and that’s what matters.”

“Well.. I suppose there’s no harm in learning,” her mother said carefully.

Deryn lowered her head as the conversation drifted away from her. There were a few comments thrown in Deryn’s direction, but Alek generally shot them down; defending her.

She was glad he stepped in—though Deryn felt that it made her look barking pathetic in his eyes. She was capable of so many things, but apparently confronting her family wasn’t one of them.

The idea made her heart race in an unpleasant way. Merely thinking about properly telling them off caused Deryn’s hands to tense, and she just simply couldn’t bring herself to do it.

It was silly—being so anxious over something so trivial. She hadn’t felt half as nervous when she was in Istanbul; though her cover had been almost blown a great number of times.

Perhaps it was because this was family. And though she wouldn’t admit it, not out loud at least, she didn’t want to be singled out from them. Or, god forbid, estranged.

It was a fear she simply couldn’t climb. What her family thought of her should be the last thing on her mind—it usually was—but for some odd reason, she couldn’t bring herself to believe it.

Deep down, Deryn was a crushed, young girl still suffering from her Da’s death. Suddenly, she was pliable, and her Ma only saw a doll that she could put a dress on.

Perhaps she didn’t want her family to outright reject her because then, she’d be alone all over again. And if solitude was the punishment, then she’d keep her mouth shut.

Deryn stewed quietly beside Alek, her grip on his hand loosening but never entirely leaving. He continued to rub gentle circles into her skin, and at one point, he leaned over and whispered in her ear.

“You had me thinking you were going to lunge over the table at Maisie.”

Deryn snorted softly. “If there wasn’t food in the way, then I would have taught her a lesson..”

“Has that happened before?”

“Way too many times.”

“I see why.”

Eventually, dinner came to a long-awaited close. Some of the family moved into the parlor to lounge around after the meal, while others remained at the dinner table, locked in conversation.

Deryn pushed away from the table, and Alek pulled her plate atop his own. Her Ma seemed to notice this however and immediately rushed over, lips lifting into a smile as she politely took the plates from him.

“There’s no need to pick up! For heaven’s sake, you’re a guest. Jaspert seemed to take a liking to you, why don’t you go and be with him? Deryn can help me.”

She straightened, eyeing her mother. “Sorry, me?”

Alek blinked at his empty hands, then glanced up at Deryn’s Ma. “Please, I’d like to help. It’s the least I could do after you cooked such a lovely meal for us.”

“Oh, are you sure?” Her Ma asked, as if it was unthinkable for a man to get his hands dirty with simple household chores.

“Absolutely,” he said, dipping his head enthusiastically. “I want to. It’s certainly the best way to show gratitude, after all. More hands make the workload lighter.”

“Oh.. well, if you insist. But I was still going to have Deryn help me out with washing them.”

Glaring at her Ma, Deryn shook her head with an internal groan. Of course.. never a guest in my own house, am I? Deryn thought crossly, gently nudging his side. “Why don’t you just gather the plates?”

As Deryn’s mother moved back toward the kitchen, Alek gave Deryn a tentative look—one that was difficult to ignore. After a moment, she sighed and turned to him, attempting to conceal her own disappointment with her Ma. “What?”

“You two haven’t had a proper conversation since you got here. Why is that?”

“Just guess, daft Prince,” she snorted. “Why would the person who’s the most disappointed about my choices want to know how I’m doing?”

“Why don’t you be the first to spark it? I highly doubt that your own mother doesn’t care about what her daughter has been doing in life. She should be proud,” Alek insisted sincerely.

Deryn, however, was not convinced. “She’s not proud. I know that for a fact.” Her gaze flicked over to the kitchen, giving a long, drawn-out sigh. Why was she cursed with such a difficult mother? “She’ll just criticize everything I have to say.”

“There’s a good chance you won’t see her again for years from now on. Just..” he nudged her into the direction of the kitchen. “Try.”

“Alek..” she warned, but he only gave her a reassuring smile. With yet another long sigh, she pushed away from him. “Alright, alright, fine. I’ll try.”

“There you go.”

Only for you, Alek.. Deryn rubbed her temples and walked off toward the kitchen, leaving Alek to collect the dishes on the dinner table.

As always, her mother was hard at work. She listened idly to the conversation in the parlor, scrubbing away at the pots and plans she’d used for cooking as Alek retrieved the plates in the meantime.

Deryn slowly approached her side, spine straightening somewhat as she watched her ma. As soon as she worked up the courage to speak, her mother immediately thrusted a soapy frying pan into her direction.

“Can you rinse these?”

She blinked at the dish held out in front of her, soapy rivulets of water dripping down the metal and onto the floor. With a slow nod, Deryn silently acquiesced and took her place beside her mother, gripping the pan as she flicked on the water faucet.

They worked in relative silence. She rinsed off each and every new dish that was handed to her, slotting them neatly into the drying rack. Alek popped in to drop off the plates from the dinner table every now and then, though at some point he completed his task and disappeared from the kitchen.

Perhaps now was a good time to ease into conversation. And though Deryn was never particularly good at talking casually with her Ma, she figured this was a good start.

So, Deryn painstakingly exhaled and glanced up, fingers curled around a ceramic teacup. “I reckon you did most of the cooking yourself?”

Her Ma nodded, gesturing to the entirety of the kitchen. “Almost. I had some help before you arrived, but I’ve been stuck up in this kitchen all day!”

“If we’d come earlier, I’m sure Alek wouldn’t have minded helping. He’s a surprisingly good cook, all things considered..” Deryn said carefully, eyeing her Ma’s face for a change in expression. “I taught him, so he does most of the cooking these days.”

“But that’s hardly a man’s job. You should be the one cooking for him, that’s how we raised you.”

“Well.. we tend to do things a wee bit differently. The workload is different. We both work full time, and he tends to have more energy by the end of the day to make us a meal.”

At that, her Ma tilted her head, visibly backtracking. “Deryn, you live together?”

“It’s not so much as living together as it is functioning like roommates!” Deryn said quickly, cringing a bit under her Ma’s concerned gaze. “We sleep in separate rooms..” Sometimes. “And it was more of an arrangement by the society to save space, that’s all. It’s been like this for a year now, you do realize.”

“A year..” Her Ma pondered, the gears visibly clicking together in her head. “Dear God, if your Da was here..”

“He wouldn’t have a problem with it. He’d want me to be happy, wouldn’t he?”

“Sometimes you need to compromise over happiness, Deryn.”

Compromise, compromise, compromise. That seemed to be her Ma’s favorite word. Years ago, when her Da was still alive, they had an awful tendency to argue over Deryn’s state of dress relatively often. It was never anything explosive—only mild disagreements that would occasionally make her Da’s voice raise, though he was usually a soft-spoken man.

They’d compromised most of the time. Skirts and dresses inside the house and out in public; trousers and overalls when playing outside or going to the fields where the hot-air balloon awaited them. Sometimes there were exceptions, but usually, it was how things played out. It was only when her Da died that she had to put her trousers away for good.

“I have my own life now, and frankly, there’s no need to compromise when everything is going along fine,” Deryn said honestly, stacking yet another plate onto the drying rack. “I’m happy.”

“Happy? Hiding as a man, working all day?” She scoffed quietly. “Your aunts are right, Deryn. That kind of life certainly isn’t for a woman. I see something between you and Alek, so why don’t you marry him at the very least?”

Though Deryn was fond of the idea of marrying Alek, she wouldn’t allow her Ma to know. She’d make a fuss—and frankly, Deryn didn’t want the heavy criticism.

“It’s like you don’t know what you want, Deryn. One day you just..” she gestured with her hand. “You take off with your brother to join the Royal Air Force of all things. Months later and I get word that you’re completely pivoting. Why do you make things so hard on yourself?”

“It’s not like it’s on purpose,” Deryn snorted. “I’m making decisions on what best suits me. It was too risky to remain on the Leviathan, and another opportunity opened up to me. I’m compromising,” she replied, drawing out the word. “I still love flying, but the life I’m living now is more than ideal.”

“At least I was proud about having Jaspert go to the Air Force,” her Ma frowned, returning to the plates in the sink. “I’ve told you before that I can’t accept what you’ve done—what you’re doing.”

“It’s not like you were ever proud of me before that point anyway.”

“That’s quite the assumption,” the woman sniffed. “I was proud when you learned how to sew. When you learned to cook. Things that are essential. And now, you’ve thrown away perfectly good knowledge.. for what? It’s a miracle that Alek even likes you, for how helpless of a wife you’d be despite our help.”

The words stung—wrenching themselves between Deryn’s ribs and pushing them apart. And yet, Deryn was used to the familiar disapproval. The pain that came with knowing that her own mother could never accept the kind of girl she’d become. Because what was the use of a perfectly good young woman if she didn’t want to submit?

“It’s this argument again, isn’t it?” Deryn frowned, recalling their altercation from when she’d made the decision to leave. “I thought I’d gotten the point across then.”

“It’s certainly not too late to change your mind.”

“I’ve always been like this, is that so hard to accept? I understand I’m not the perfect daughter, but at some point you’re the one who needs to barking understand that.”

 “There are consequences, Deryn. All I ever do is tell you what is best, but you’ve never listened to me a day in your life.”

“What’s best? Ma, there’s more to life for a woman than getting married and having kids! I can keep up with any boy. I’m quick on my feet, I’m sharp, and all of those good aspects of me would go to waste if I was kept shut up just because of who I am.”

Deryn dropped her plate into the sink with a sharp clatter. The faucet continued to run, but at this point her Ma had abandoned her task in favor of arguing with Deryn.

“If your Da hadn’t been so lenient on you, then this would have turned out differently. You wouldn’t have these.. these reckless aspirations. You’d be listening to me for once!”

“So now you’re dragging Da into this?” Deryn scoffed. “He loved me. He was lenient because he saw who I was, who I wanted to be, and you’ve made every bloody attempt to stifle that. He loved me enough to let me be—it’s like you hate to see me happy,” she spat.

“I do love you, and that’s why I’ve done everything to see to it that you’re accepted! You work against every single one of my attempts—you’re stubborn, you’re headstrong—”

“Arguing with you is like talking to a brick wall,” Deryn shook her head, stepping back. She shook out her damp hands, scowling at her mother. “Maybe I shouldn’t have come here if I knew it would lead to this. It always does. You don’t know how to let something go.”

Alek was wrong, she thought bitterly to herself. She’ll never listen.

“If Artemis had survived instead of you, then maybe neither of us would have to suffer through this.”

At that, Deryn paused and stared. In a heartbeat, her Ma instantly recognized the severity of her words; lips pursing as her cruelty suddenly dawned on her.

Too far.

And yet, Deryn could only stare at her own mother, slack-jawed, eyes wide. The words had formed into a dagger—plunged mercilessly into her heart, sending a fresh wave of pain and utter hurt coursing through Deryn.

The months following her Da’s death had been torturous largely because she blamed herself for surviving instead of her father. The intensity of her survivor’s guilt and grief had rendered her speechless, and Deryn had spent so, so long sobbing in her room wishing that it had been her who’d perished instead.

To hear those words from her own mother… those old wounds were reawakened—healed scar tissue cruelly ripped apart once again.

“I didn’t…” I didn’t mean it, her Ma likely meant to say, lips forming silent words. But the damaged was done—rippling between them like agitated waters. A storm that had spent several hours brewing, now letting out a torrential downpour that only served to deepen the rift between them.

“You… you know what..?” Deryn spoke slowly, as if her words were fragile. Her lower lip quivered pathetically, like a child on the verge of tears. Her throat tightened uncomfortably, jaw pulsating madly with a sudden tension.

“Maybe you’re right.”

In an instant, Deryn barreled through the kitchen entrance, her footsteps heavy against the floor—deaf to her mother’s desperate apologies. She’d hardly gotten a glance at the parlor as she slipped on her shoes and pushed the front door open with a loud clamor, the cold, cold wind biting into her face as she stepped out into a freezing Glasgow.

___

Alek stared at the door, briefly shuddering at the sudden gust of cold air. It closed as quickly as it had opened, and the sudden slam had miraculously quieted down the parlor. Deryn’s relatives fell silent, and quietly, Jaspert slipped into the kitchen.

That couldn’t have been Deryn.. Alek thought, rising from his armchair, staring tentatively at the door. His eyes flicked toward the kitchen entrance, thousands of questions racing through his mind as he recalled the brief scene.

He couldn’t hear what was happening in the kitchen earlier, not with the noise from Deryn’s family in the parlor. He’d assumed that they were finally having that conversation.. but it might’ve ended quite badly, seeing that it was Deryn who stormed out.

Brows creased in deep concern, Alek excused himself from the parlor and tentatively entered the kitchen. There, Mrs. Sharp stood against the counter, her palms pressed against her face.

Her son, Jaspert, towered over her wearing an equally concerned expression. He pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index finger, staring incredulously at his mother.

“You said what?”

“I didn’t mean it, my tongue slipped..” Mrs. Sharp shook her head, holding a closed fist to her chest, the skin up to her elbows still dripping dripping with suds. “A minute later and she stormed out.”

“Ma, you don’t say that,” he groaned, glancing briefly over his shoulder. Upon noticing Alek, he straightened and dusted his hands off. “I’m sorry, they got into an argument. Deryn has never really.. stormed out like that.”

Jaspert rubbed his temples. “I should go and find her, before she does something barking stupid. She didn’t even take a coat with her.”

As he approached the kitchen entrance, Alek tactfully stepped into his direction, raising his hands. “No, you shouldn’t have to leave. Not after I motivated Deryn to speak with her mother. I’ll go fetch her before she gives herself frostbite.”

Of course, Jaspert seemed tentative. “You’re our guest, and she’s not exactly your responsibility.”

“But neither is she yours,” Alek pointed out. “It was about time we left anyway, I could tell that Deryn was getting agitated.”

Jaspert chewed on his lower lip, giving the kitchen one last look-over. “Alright. I’ll see you out.”

With a respectful nod, Alek departed from the kitchen. He entered the parlor, scooped up Bovril from the hands of one of Deryn’s younger cousins, then slipped on his shoes in the foyer. He unhooked Deryn’s coat, shrugging into his own in the process.

Glasgow was quite a large city, and unfortunately, he didn’t know Deryn well enough to know where exactly she’d flee to. That girl could be anywhere—and though she’d have enough sense to come back home eventually, he certainly didn’t want her out for long.

In a way, this was his fault.

“If you need a little bit of advice..” Jaspert said, coming up to his side. “Then I have a fair idea of where she’s gone. It’s a cemetery not far from here—it’s closer to the fields, so it’s a decent walk.”

He nudged the door open, pointing in a direction. “It’s a straight shot, you won’t miss the entrance.”

Alek dipped his head, taking his first step outside. Bovril snuggled closer to his neck, little claws curling into the fabric of his coat. “I see. Thank you, Jaspert. Deryn is quite fortunate to have a brother like you.”

“Yeah, well.. just see to it that she’s alright.” He stepped down beside him, setting a hand onto Alek’s shoulder. “She chose a good person alright.”  

With that, Alek was off to brave the cold streets.

He followed Jaspert’s directions for quite some time, clutching Deryn’s coat in the crook of his arm as he walked. A light dusting of snowflakes came down from the sky at some point or another; sticking to his hair.

Alek kept his head dipped down as he walked, eyes narrowing against an occasionally gust of cold wind. At some point or another, Bovril perked up, identifying the cemetery.

“Mr. Sharp!” It announced quite suddenly, pawing at Alek’s cheek.

With a soft chuckle, Alek turned and entered through the towering cemetery gates, boots crunching against snow. The cemetery itself was somewhat of a maze—however, it was practically deserted. Finding Deryn wouldn’t be a difficult task if she was the only one here.

He strolled through the walkways, hands pushed deep into his coat pockets. Bioluminescent street lights gradually lit up in the distance as the sun sunk towards the horizon, plunging Glasgow’s cemetery into a blue sheen.

Bovril, again, trilled ‘Mr. Sharp’ once they spotted a silhouetted figure crouched nearby a particular grave. They were shivering profusely, though Alek could immediately recognize Deryn by the blonde head of hair.

He tactfully approached her side and crouched beside Deryn, taking in her tense expression. Her nose and cheeks were red—whether or not it was from crying or merely from the cold, Alek had not a clue.

Her eyes seemed firmly rooted in place. Deryn hardly acknowledged Alek—she merely crossed her arms and continued to stare at the headstone, ‘Artemis Sharp’ written across the stone.

Alek slowly lowered himself, gently brushed away the snowflakes from her face. He raised her coat up and over her shoulders, adjusting the collar.

They sat in silence for several heartbeats—Deryn eventually shifted to hug her legs, blue eyes finally flicking towards Alek with a heavy sigh. “You should have stayed.”

Her voice was raw—perhaps Deryn had been crying, though she made an attempt not to show it. Whatever the cause, Alek sidled up to her side.

“I didn’t want to leave you all alone.”

“I would’ve been just fine.”

“Maybe, but.. you don’t deserve to be alone. You shouldn’t be alone.”

“And if I want to be?”

“I know you don’t.”

With a low snort, Deryn pressed her nose to her sleeve. “Do what you want, Alek.”

Perhaps.. he should start with an apology? After all, this certainly wouldn’t have happened as long as he hadn’t urged her to speak with her mother.

Foolishly, he assumed that communication would have helped—despite knowing of their turbulent history. Like pushing two hissing cats together, it only lead to explosive conflict that Alek couldn’t have hoped to remedy.

“I see why you didn’t want to come.”

Deryn frowned. She tipped her head to the side, giving a low sigh. “They’re not all horrible people. Not really. But I just.. god, I couldn’t barking take it anymore.”

“I’m so, so very sorry, Deryn..” he said carefully, his sincerity emanating from the very depths of his heart. “I shouldn’t have pushed you to talk to her, much less come to Glasgow in the first place. If I had known..”

“It’s not your fault,” Deryn interrupted. She glanced up somewhat glumly, a distinct sadness in her eyes that Alek knew all too well. “Eventually I would’ve had to build up the courage to come home. Sometimes I take the things they say a wee bit too close to the heart..”

She tucked a few stray strands of hair behind her ear, shivering briefly. Bovril crossed over their shoulders, trading Alek’s warmth for Deryn’s. The girl cooed softly at the beast, scratching its nape.

“I know it was more like a slip of the tongue, but it does feel like she meant it.”

“Meant what?”

“She told me..” Deryn swallowed, as if the words were thorns that pricked the inside of her throat—stubborn and painful. “She told me that it would have been better if my Da survived instead.”

“…oh.” Oh.

He stared at Deryn, trying to make sense of the pure hurt in her expression. It was such an awful, awful thing to say.. and Alek couldn’t help but reach out and gently grab a hold of her wrist. “No wonder..”

Deryn let out a forced chuckle, as if trying to downplay the absurdity of it all. “Maybe she was right.”

“No. No, Deryn she wasn’t. It was a very insensitive thing to say, but don’t ever believe something like that.”

She turned to him, eyes brimming with tears once again. “She would’ve been happier—hell, she’d be relieved that I was gone for good. A headache of a daughter out of her hair—“

At that, Alek grasped either side of her head. It was a stern yet gentle hold, and he forced her sad eyes to properly meet his.

It hurt him that she even dared to think that way.

If it wasn’t for her, Alek would have lost hope a long, long time ago. Perhaps he’d still be in the alps, dreading the idea of one day returning to seize the throne, resigning himself to a turbulent life of politics and loneliness.

Deryn brought a certain joy to his life that he found that he couldn’t live without. She was funny, she was brave, and Alek couldn’t picture himself loving anyone else but her.

And though he wanted to say these words, his throat inevitably choked up with emotion. He couldn’t squeeze them out if he tried—and so, he hoped that Deryn could read his mind through his steady gaze, praying that she understood what words couldn’t convey.

You deserve to be here. You deserve to live.

Finally, Deryn cracked open. She let out a choked sob and surged towards Alek, wrapping her cold arms around him. The coat slipped off, though Alek made no effort to retrieve it—the moment was too tender to ruin.

He held Deryn as her body trembled against him, her face pushed deep into his shoulder as her emotions spilled out like an opened floodgate. Alek gently shushed her, his fingers delicately pushing through her hair, hoping that the gesture could console her.

“We can go home, let’s go home..” Alek whispered, reaching for the collar of her coat. He secured it around her shoulders just as the flurries in the air began to thicken, coating both Alek and Deryn in a fine snowy mist. “We don’t have to stay, Deryn..”

One day, she’ll have to properly confront her family—but on her own time. For now, she shouldn’t have to worry about such a thing. Not for a long, long time.

They departed from Glasgow soon after.

Deryn spent every minute of the train ride home with her head on his shoulder, sound asleep.

Alek watched the snowy mist outside as the landscape changed. His his lips quirked into a gentle smile, holding Deryn close all the while.