It turned out, weddings were complicated. And if you were heir to the throne of Austria-Hungary and had left your last fiancée at the altar, and your new fiancée had been an illegal member of the Air Force for three years, things just got worse.

Of course, Alek hadn't taken a very active part in planning the last one. More like an active part in avoiding it, ducking out of rooms at any opportunity and disappearing for hours at a time. This was mostly an effort to get away from Maria – distance made it easier for him to ignore the fact that he didn't love her, and never would. But this time he was right in the thick of it.

Deryn tried to pronounce a name from the guest list, her tongue tripping over the unfamiliar symbols, her Scottish accent putting emphasis on all the wrong syllables. When Alek burst out laughing, she gave up in despair. "Why am I doing this again?" she demanded.

"Because you love me," he suggested, "and I love you, and we might as well stop being dummkopfs about it."

"Aye, I suppose you're right."

The last few years had been hard for her, he knew. Her secret had come out two years back in a rather spectacular fashion, and she'd been sent off the Leviathan in disgrace. She'd spent the next two years stubbornly living by herself in London, working as an assistant to Dr. Barlow, the only one who would hire such a scandalous young woman.

His life must seem garish in comparison, Alek supposed. Five years of diplomacy and lavish parties, living in luxury while she struggled to pay her rent. But underneath it all he'd been continuously miserable, guilty for betraying his best friend.

He still remembered that night clearly, for all that it was five years ago. Volger had thrown a celebration in New York City to commemorate Alek's acceptance as the official heir. Deryn – he'd known her as Dylan then – had slipped outside to a small balcony, staring up at the stars. He'd followed him.

"Not as good as flying, is it?"

"What?" He'd looked around guiltily, and to his surprise there were a few tear tracks on his cheeks.

"What's wrong?"

He shook his head. "I can't tell you."

"Come on, it can't be that bad," he encouraged, sitting next to him. "I've told you all of my secrets."

"Do you promise?" Dylan asked. "Not to be angry?"

"Of course."

The boy sighed. "The truth is… I'm a girl."

"What?" It made sense though, once Alek had thought about it. A million clues, fitting into place all at once. And maybe part of him had always suspected. "Why didn't you tell me?"

She stared out into the night, not meeting his eyes. "Because I'm in love with you. And I know it can never work."

Alek shivered in the cold air. She was right. Now, as the official heir, he had a duty that was more important than either of them. He had to see it through. "You're right," he said, standing up. "It can't." And he walked inside to rejoin the party. He didn't look back.

What a bastard he'd been.

"Alek?"

"Hmm?" He was jolted back to reality by Deryn's voice.

"Volger wants you," she said, and raised her eyebrows.

Oh dear. "All right," he muttered. "Here goes nothing."