Deryn would describe the atmosphere at the breakfast table as stony, to say the least. While her Ma happily chats away, Jaspert only half listens and insteads spends his time shooting murderous glances towards Alek. Alek keeps his eyes firmly on his plate, his chair a very proper distance from hers even at the crowded table. Though when her hand finds his under the table he doesn't let go. Deryn makes a show of checking her watch.
"Alright," she says "Alek and I need to head into town to send a few letters to Dr. Barlow at the Zoo." She and Alek begin to stand, and Jaspert does as well. Mrs. Sharp's eyes dart between them.
"Actually," Mrs. Sharp says, "Deryn I needed your help with some sewing this morning."
"Ma, I'm not a seamstress I'm an—" Deryn starts.
"An airman, I know, dear, but it's tricky work and my eyes aren't what they used to be. Don't pretend I can't see that you've tailored your own shirts."
Deryn tugs are her collar. "Ma!"
"Don't argue with me, Deryn."
"Alek doesn't know the way to the post office. What if there's something urgent from the Zoo," Deryn continues.
Jaspert jumps in. "I can show him into town," he offers. "It'll be nice to see some of the lads."
Mrs. Sharp smiles. "Excellent. We've got it all sorted then," she says. She'll admit that needing help with the sewing was a fib, knowing that Jaspert would take the opportunity to spend time alone with Alek and blow off whatever steam he'd been accumulating since arriving home that morning. Alek looks nonplussed, but he's a good lad, Mrs. Sharp thinks, he'll be alright. Jaspert just needs to get to know him.
Jaspert heads to the front door and takes his jacket off the hook. "Well come on then, you highness," he calls.
Alek and Deryn share one last tender look, but then Deryn claps him on the back in a much more soldierly manner. "Best not to keep the man waiting, your princeliness," she says.
Alek and Jaspert walk in silence for several minutes and Alek takes this as an opportunity to admire the scenery. The Sharps' house is outside of metropolitan Glasgow, a sizable cottage with a large field where he assumes Deryn's Da used to launch balloons, and a couple of trees that she would have climbed in as a girl. It almost makes him smile, if it weren't for the surly man walking beside him. Jaspert is taller than Deryn, and definitely not as lanky. He looks every bit a man while Alek still feels like a boy playing dress-up.
"I'm not actually a prince anymore," Alek says, breaking the silence.
"What?"
"You don't need to call me 'your highness.' I renounced my titles. Please, call me Alek."
"First of all, I'll call you what I like," Jaspert begins, "And secondly, what I'd really like to know is why you were snogging on my sister at such an indecently early hour."
"Well, I, we…" Alek begins, realizing that no explanation will be sufficient. He remembers times with his tutors, or Volger, or his father's advisors, all bent on reminding him of his insufficient heritage. He starts over. "That was inappropriate. I apologize."
Jaspert seems slightly mollified. "Right answer." Alek offers a shaky smile and Jaspert punches him in the arm in what he supposes is a friendly manner but he worries it's going to leave a bruise. "Just don't make a habit of it, aye? It's not like my sister to be so moony over a lad so you must be special and it won't do for you to cause a town scandal."
Alek grimaces. He is very familiar with scandals, being the product of one. It was part of why he threw that blasted letter from the pope into the ocean, so that he could love Deryn without subjecting her to the court ridicule his mother faced all her life. He slows down and stops to face Jaspert, squaring his shoulders in the perfect air of a prince, only this is more genuine than any royal protocol.
"Jaspert, I know you don't know me," he begins solemnly, "but I know Deryn and I would never do anything to hurt her." He thinks of the raw terror he felt watching the Goliath send lighting skittering over the skin of the Leviathan, knowing that a single leak in the membrane would send Deryn and the rest of the crew up in flames. He can still taste the smell of burnt flesh on his tongue, and feel the shattered glass of the window cut his burnt palms. But then he thinks of the cold wind on the spine, watching the leather scroll case land in the sea with a tiny, meteoric splash. Deryn's lips on his, only a prelude. "I gave up an empire for her, and I gained so much more," he tells Jaspert.
Jaspert stares dumbfounded for a moment but then collects himself. "Take it easy, your highness."
Alek opens his mouth to correct him but then shakes his head, realizing that Deryn's habit of mis-titling him may be hereditary.