Hello, lovely readers! Here comes what I fondly call THE MONSTER CHAPTER.

This thing checks in at over 6 pages on word. Dear lord.

I tried to break this fic up rather evenly (Chapter one was family, two was introductions, three is relationship developing, four will be the battle, and five the wrap up) which meant that this chapter ended up really, really long. It was fun to write, though.

I'm not sure when four will be uploaded, because I am being lazy and haven't finished it yet. (sshh) I'm going to give a rough estimate of next Friday. Maybe sooner if my procrastination ceases.

As always, I want to thank my lovely reviewers, though I am saddened by those of you who don't like Lilit. You make me a sad panda, guys. ): I love Lilit so much.

But I'm glad that this fic is turning your opinion of her around. That was the intention, I guess.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter~!


Working with Dylan was… unusual, to say the least. It had taken her close to a week to realize half the strange words Dylan said were curses, which was rather entertaining. And he cussed quite frequently while working with the Spider.

Lilit didn't mind. She'd just simply rearrange the midshipman's hands, helping him work out the controls and trying very hard not to blush.

Working with Dylan was also the highlight of her day, but she wouldn't mention that to anyone.

Especially not Mr. Sharp.

Most of his distaste for her had faded (she actually caught a smile, every once and a while) but that didn't mean she had that much better of a chance.

"Lilit?" He frowned at her, blonde eyebrows furrowed.

"Huh?" She looked up. Her brown eyes were cloudy in her distraction.

"Your sleeve." He pointed, and she winced. It had gotten caught in the machine. She sighed as she tugged it free, ripping the fabric. She had let herself get completely lost in her thoughts- Dylan probably had a proper term for it, though she definitely did not want to ask.

"Thank you," she muttered, pulling at the loose threads from the tear. "Are you nervous about tomorrow?" Lilit asked softly, pushing the topic away from her empty-headedness.

"A squick—wait, how did you know about that?"

"Alek didn't tell you yet? I'm-" She was interrupted by the prince himself, grease in neat lines across his face and arms. Bovril was perched on his shoulder, cheerful and giggling.

"Zaven told me to get you two for supper."

"Aye, fine." He gave Lilit a quick glance, as if inviting her to continue her answer, but she just shrugged. Alek could explain it to him later.

"It better not be spicy," the blonde grumbled, teeth set.


Lilit stood out in the street, tapping her embroidered slippers impatiently, waiting for the Scot. Alek looked nervous, letting out a sigh of relief when Dylan came through the door.

The other boy froze, looking Lilit over. "What's she doing here?" The girl in question scowled. She thought they were over this.

"Didn't I tell you?" Of course, the royal forgot to inform him on the plan. Typical. "We need someone the hotel staff won't recognize. Lilit rented a suite yesterday." Alek had handed her a handful of coins that she had hastily dropped into a bag (really, the boy was clueless) and had rented a room with a cloud of confidence… and immediately turned around and left the hotel.

This was a stupid plan, really.

"And how exactly does that help us?" His friend replied skeptically.

"My room's on the highest floor, like Alek's was. Two doors away. And they both have balconies." She gave him a dark look, daring him to complain. "I can sneak as well as you two can," if not better, she added mentally. "Ask Alek how easily I trailed him."

"Aye, he's told me that story more then once," Dylan replied. Lilit glanced at Alek quickly, pleased that he didn't just pretend it didn't happen, "It's just that…" He trailed off, looking at his feet and then back up to Lilit. His face was whirlwind of conflicting emotions; annoyed, worried and apologetic.

"Is it because I'm a girl?" She said coldly, arms crossed. Her face heated, and she tightened her hands into fists without meaning to, running through a marathon of emotions. She had hoped his friend's bias wasn't shared, but apparently her standards were much too high. Stupid. Why did she ever let her feelings get the best of her?

"Of course not." He shook his head quickly. "I'm just sleepy, that's all." Lilit scoffed. Since when did tiredness have to do with acting like—like a bum rag, as the midshipman would say.

She stood across from him defiantly, waiting for an explanation or an apology. But Dylan just strode off, without another word. She was upset, plain and simple. Upset with Dylan, of course, but with herself as well- why did she ever let herself become so vulnerable, so easily hurt by a boy? Alek had observed the conversation silently, but he glanced at Lilit after with a sad smile.

"Don't mind Dylan. He…" He looked at her for a long moment. "You like him, don't you?"

Lilit blinked, too amazed to speak. How had Alek- absolutely clueless Alek- have the perception to figure it out, when Mr. Sharp still had no clue? She cleared her throat, glaring at a building behind him.

"It's none of your business." She said quietly, feelings her cheeks heat.

"I know."

She sped off in a huff, not letting him get another word in.


Lilit pressed her back against the wall, sighing. What was taking them so long? They had sneaked into the room close to half an hour ago, and she had been stuck waiting the entire time. Snatches of conversations occasionally crept through the walls, but nothing she could really understand.

"Let's get out of here. We have a revolution to plan." The voice was quiet, but obviously the prince's, sounding cheerful.

She opened the door impatiently.

"Took you two long enough," She understated. More like several decades. "I thought you'd got yourselves into trouble."

There was something… peculiar about them. Alek looked unusually cheerful, as opposed to his typical solemn expression. And Dylan was bright red, from his neck to his ears.

….Strange.

"We were having a bit of a discussion," the boy with red-brown hair grinned, turning to wink at Dylan.

…Wait.

What was going on?

….Did they?

No, they couldn't have. But their faces- Dylan looked almost guilty… Dear God. Lilit was old enough to… understand this sort of behavior, but it did not mean she wanted to.

"But we found this."

Lilit shot Alek a look that clearly meant "you did not just imply what I thought you did, what is wrong with you two, we're on a mission", but he didn't seem to catch it. Dylan looked away from her, face burning even redder.

She was going to kill them. Why did she leave them alone in a hotel room? She ignored the powerful surge of jealousy crashing through her and stomped forward. She was getting answers, whether they liked it or not.

Alek gave her a shrug, (Oh, like he isn't just as guilty, she thought angrily) and turned to follow his….. friend.

Mr. Sharp stopped suddenly as they walked down the stairs. "The cooks are in the kitchen already. We can't go back that way."

"Straight through the lobby doors then," Lilit said sharply, face coldly neutral. "If no one found your letter, there won't be any German agents about."

"Aye, but some of us are wanted taxi thieves!" Dylan cried. She resisted the urge to ssh him.

"It'll be fine," Alek replied, shaking his head. "We'll be out the door before anyone gives us a second look."

"Just try not to act suspicious," Lilit said, emphasizing the last word with another look and opening the door with her shoulder.

Lilit held her head high and gathered an air of confidence from nowhere. Well, sure, Dylan was rude and a completely different person then she thought he was, not to mention had a really poor sense of timing, but she never needed him anyway.

There was absolutely no reason to be upset. Or jealous. The prince could have him. She couldn't care less.

It was probably this thought process that led her to not realize something was wrong; she had been too busy trying to convince herself that her emotions were completely false to look around. The prince came to a halt suddenly in the middle of the room, looking towards a small table where a scruffy looking man sat.

"Ah, Prince Alek," Said a voice in cheerful English. Lilit eyes widened. Oh no. "I thought you might be somewhere hereabouts."

The voice touched on her memory, but the face brought her all the way back- the day she had first met Alek, over a week ago.

In fact, it was the reason she got off on the wrong start with him in the first place. The reporter grinned at the group, and Lilit wondered how quickly she would be able to kill him.


The group had returned home, dejected and exhausted. The midshipman had collapsed on the furniture as soon as they came through the warehouse, head in his hands.

"Is something wrong?" Lilit asked quietly, watching him curl up and curse quietly.

"Processing the day, I guess. Eddie Malone, and our little conversation in the hotel." Alek replied, following her gaze.

"Conversation," She replied dryly. "Right." She had pointed out their suspicious dedication to covering for each other in the café, but they had deflected the accusation with much more noble reasons.

She thought back to her and Dylan's hands, held together across the table. The closest they would ever be.

"Yes," Alek replied, not catching her sarcasm. "You might want to talk about it with him later," He said, smiling. "I'm sworn to secrecy, of course. But I'll just say…" He glanced toward Dylan, as if he was worried he'd overhear. "It involves our chat earlier."

Wait. So they actually talked? Lilit flushed slightly. She had just jumped to conclusions so quickly, that she didn't consider that- if they were talking about her instead…

….That would explain a rather lot, wouldn't it?

Then what Alek actually said clicked in her mind.

…He didn't.

Of all the terrible things- how dare he! Giving away a girl's darkest secret without her permission, the nerve! The prince normally annoyed her, sure, but this… this was unforgivable.

"You're horrible with secrets," She said, not mentioning her error, glaring at him with her dark brown eyes. "I can't believe you told him!"

He threw up his hands. "What was I supposed to do? He asked about you!"

"What are you two talking about?" Dylan muttered, voice muffled by the pillow. Bovril had waddled over, and was now perched on his blonde head.

"Nothing," the prince and anarchist quickly said together.


"I don't generally voice my… dislike for people, Dylan, but I am really not fond of Mr. Eddie Malone." The boy held his head in his hands, hunched over at a table.

Dylan smiled softly, reaching across to smooth back his hair. Lilit watched from the fainting couch- Alek didn't flinch, barely reacted, really, used to this behavior. No appreciation for something Lilit would give anything for.

She sighed into one of the pillows, unheard by the two.

"Aye, he's a bum rag. You alright?"

Alek glanced up, dark green eyes locked with his. He opened his mouth, closed it, and just shook his head.

Lilit couldn't remember the last timed she loathed herself so much. Alek, poor, stupid Alek, forced to talk about his parents death with that awful reporter, and here she was… sick to her stomach with jealousy.

Really, she was not pleased with herself.

Dylan Sharp just made everything so complicated. Her life was simple, black and white really, before he dropped into it.

Alek had been solemn the past few hours after returning from his interview, taking the day off working with the Walkers to sulk. She didn't blame him, really. If Malone had asked her to talk about her mother's death, she would have just slit his throat and called it a day. She was still angry about the incident the day before, but seeing him so absolutely miserable after having to speak with the reporter had faded her anger directed at him. Slightly.

Still, she didn't mind a break from his constant chatter about providence and his destiny, and all that.

From the way he went on, you would have expected God had appeared outside his window and asked him to assist the revolution, a modern day Joan of Arc.

She sighed, laying on the edge of the fainting couch, playing with the ends of her braids.

Dylan spun out his chair, letting it squeak, and stood up, blonde hair catching the light. The setting sun cast odd shadows across his face, almost making him look like a different person—

The thought hit with a bang, stronger then any of the spices they had been slaving over in the past week.

Joan of Arc.

Lilit fell out of the couch in a clatter of beads and coins, sewn into her fluttering skirts and scarves.

"Barking spiders!" Dylan sputtered, quickly moving towards her "What happened?"

"L-leaned too far, I guess." Dylan helped her up, and she stared hard at his hands. Thin. Delicate.

You do a lot of sewing, for a boy.

Lilit swallowed hard. "Thank you."

Alek had came out of his stupor- he was now glancing over at her, worry drawn across his face. "Is everything alright?"

"Yes, I'm fine." She dropped Dylan's hands quickly, just barely stopping herself from wiping her hands with her skirt.

"Thanks to Dylan," Alek gave a tiny smile.

His features.

The tailoring.

How he acted around Alek. (That, she realized, momentarily distracted, made their relationship far less scandalous)

Mr. Sharp.

And all this time, she never realized…

Dylan frowned at her. "You sure you're alright, lass?"

"Completely." Lilit said, looking up at him. Her.


It had been close to two weeks since the revelation, and Lilit had recovered. For the most part.

She hadn't said a word, not to anyone, though she wanted to see if Nene had figured it out as well. But she kept quiet, out of respect for the other girl.

Girl. That was still so strange to her, even now.

It was crystal clear that the prince had no clue. Her father didn't know, either (she was sure, if he did, that he'd automatically try to adopt her, and constantly engage her in conversations about the empowerment of women and all that.)

So the men didn't know. Zaven probably would figure it out eventually, she guessed, being Nene's son and seeing Dylan several times a day, but Alek was completely clueless. All you had to do was compare the way he interacted with Lilit- formal, careful, always aware of her gender, to the comfortable way he interacted with his best friend.

And he was slow to pick up on things, despite his loris's repitive help. (She would never forgive herself for missing those countless hints.)

So Dylan's secret was safe.

But what was worrying her the most was something completely internal.

It was the simple, frustrating fact that her feelings for Dylan had not faded, like she expected them to, no, they had exploded in bursts, turning into a wild fire way out of her control. A clever, handsome midshipman was one thing, but a girl being so amazing to weave the role and play it to perfection…

…She thought it was bad enough, when Dylan was still a boy, but the reveal had just made everything so much worse. Stranger- and yet stronger.


"Er. Lilit. Can we talk for a minute?"

She glanced up from the book. "Sure." Her legs were folded up neatly on the same fainting couch she had made her discovery on. She moved over slightly, allowing room for the blonde. She sat down, posture perfectly masculine.

"There's no easy way to say this," Dylan said, sighing. Lilit raised an eyebrow. She had assumed it was about her secret (and the idea that she trusted her enough to tell the secret set a thrill up her spine) but it was an odd opener for that conversation.

" I can take it," She smiled.

"…Hopefully." Dylan glanced at her, hesitating. She took a deep breath. "Alek told me something a few weeks ago."

Lilit's heart dropped to her stomach. Oh. She wondered if anyone had ever told the midshipman that her voice got softer whenever she said Alek's name.

"I guess I was being daft, not noticing… And…I'm flattered, of course, it's just that…" That you were in love with a prince, and had no interest in silly anarchists. Or girls.

Lilit held her head high. She wouldn't act like a stupid girl, heartbroken and devastated. She would accept this- she was an adult now, after all.

"I've got a girl back home, you see." She said, blue eyes locked with hers. It amazed her, that she could lie through her teeth without a sign of it. "You're an amazing person, honestly, it's just that…" She sighed. "I'm sorry. I reckon I should have told you earlier."

Lilit wrapped her arms around her knees. It didn't hurt as bad as she thought it would, really. It was a thin crack across glass, not a complete shatter.

"I understand." She gave a small smile. "What's she like?" It was a low blow, really, to ask about an imaginary person, but she was curious to see how the Scottish girl would react.

Dylan blinked at her, thrown off. "Err."

"Beautiful, I assume."

"…Aye," She blinked at her, finding her bearings in the conversation. "Dead gorgeous."

"And smart," Lilit added.

Dylan nodded.

"But a little clueless sometimes. Especially as you haven't told her yet." Lilit teased softly, turning the imaginary girl to a certain other someone with a few simple lines.

"I haven't." She stared at her, brow furrowing. "But how …"

"A lucky guess." Lilit spread her hands. "But if I was right… She's upper class, isn't she? Only reason someone like you would be worried." It was difficult to hide the affection in her voice. Oh well. Did it matter, really, now that she knew?

Dylan blushed bright red. "How did- we are talking about a girl, right?" She asked skeptically, looking like she was starting to panic.

"Of course we are," Lilit said, barely hiding her smirk. "Who else would we be talking about?"

The blonde gave her a pained look, like she was debating punching her in the face. "No one. I just…" She looked her over, suspicion clear on her face. "Never mind. That's just… one of many problems we have."

"So I was right," Lilit smirked.

"Aye, don't get a big head." Dylan muttered, still blushing. "That's all I was going to blether on about," she stood up. "Sorry for being such a bum rag about it."

"It's nothing," the girl still sitting said, smiling despite the grim conversation. "I knew this was coming, anyway."

Dylan turned, pity falling over her face. "Lilit…"

The anarchist just waved her hand. "Don't worry about it. Just… tell your girl for me, alright? Only fair."

The blonde gave her a miserable look, standing in the doorway. "I can't."