Alek woke up slowly and had to squint his eyes against the light. The room was now very bright, sunlight streaming through the sheer curtains above his head. He found himself still wrapped in Deryn's warm embrace. Their heads were nearly touching, so he lay there studying her relaxed and sleeping face.
His mind still felt a bit shaken, or as Deryn would say, a bit cracked in the attic. His dream had seemed so real, so vivid, as though he really had watched the Leviathan burning in mid-air. The very thought made him shudder slightly.
Just thinking about something bad happening to Deryn, even in a dream, caused a sharp pain in his chest that made it hard to breathe.
He figured that the dream must have been triggered by the approaching anniversary of Nikola Tesla's death at Alek's hands. Around this time of year, his dreams would often reflect his turmoil over the incident.
Of course, that horrifying night—what the dream had portrayed—was very real. Alek actually had killed Nikola Tesla with the man's own electrical walking stick.
It was hard to believe that nearly three years had already passed.
In Alek's mind, the fact that he had killed Tesla to save Deryn justified what he had done; horrible as it was to kill a man.
That night's events had removed all doubt in Alek's mind. He was in love with Deryn Sharp. She was his best friend, his trustworthy ally. And she was unimaginably priceless to him.
The next time they had seen each other, Alek proved to her—and more to himself—just how much he loved her. She had watched, in total shock, as he threw his scroll into the Hudson River!
Now it was gone forever.
Alek knew that it was worth it, though, because of the woman that was now wrapped in his arms.
Thinking about that day, also made him think of Count Volger.
Alek found himself mentally replaying the night he had informed his fencing master of his decision.
Alek sat in Count Volger's assigned stateroom aboard the Leviathan, and met the man's astonished gaze. Wildcount Ernst Volger was shocked speechless, a very rare thing for that man. Alek had just finished telling of his actions, a few hours before, on the spine of the airship.
The longer that Volger sat there unmoving—completely silent and looking angrier by the second—the more Alek began to feel unnerved. His heartbeat was steadily increasing and he felt himself start to sweat. He worked very hard at not fidgeting in his seat, like a child about to be punished for a thoughtless action. He was no longer a child and he had done what he thought was right.
The Count seemed unable to form a coherent reply for several, excruciatingly long moments. His face looked pale and stricken, an unbelieving look passing over his face.
Alek saw Volger's hand suddenly clench the pummel of his sword, which was almost always sheathed at the man's side. Alek briefly feared that the man might be tempted to use the sword on the object of his immediate frustration.
With a dangerously low, hissing voice, Count Volger finally spoke, "Why would you do such a thing?"
Alek certainly understood the man's exasperation with him, but mentally shook his mind clear, knowing he had to explain. Sitting up straighter in his chair, Alek looked his mentor in the eye as he answered.
"Because I am in love with Deryn, and she means more to me than any throne. I could have had her, or I could have had the throne. I chose Deryn."
"I knew that girl, that commoner, would be trouble! She talked you into it, didn't she?" Volger demanded accusingly.
"No. She didn't. She even chastised me for doing so. It was my choice alone. And may I remind you, Count, that I am now just as common as she is." Alek said, defending Deryn and his actions. He realized his mistake too late.
Volger shot out of his chair, nearly tipping it over backwards, causing Alek to flinch slightly. He stared at Alek for a long moment, then abruptly turned and began to pace the room in a long-legged stride, obviously trying to control his outrage with the sixteen year-old boy.
As the man moved about the small room, Alek stayed silent, imagining the tirade of thoughts—and likely many insults—going through his fencing master's mind. His eyes never left the tall, gray-haired form pacing agitatedly, back and forth across the room.
After several minutes, the Count calmed and even returned to his seat. He looked at the young man with tired eyes.
Alek felt his stomach twist a bit when he saw the disappointment in them.
"I do not, in any way, agree with your actions, Aleksandar. In fact, I happen to think it was extremely foolish and careless!" the Count stated with exasperation. The man paused for a moment, but then sat up straighter and steepled his fingers, leveling Alek with an intense gaze.
In a grudgingly accepting tone and with his usual sarcasm returning, the older man continued, "However, Your-No-Longer-Serene-Highness, I think that I might be able to understand your reasoning behind what you did. After all, you are your father's son."
Alek felt anger swiftly rise in him at the man's impertinent comparison of his and his late father's decisions to choose women who were not royalty. Alek stayed silent though, thinking that anything else he said might rekindle the man's irritation.
After a few more moments of painful and awkward silence, Alek thought that it was important to make something clear to Volger.
"Count Volger, you don't have to agree with my decision and I do understand your frustration. However, I hope you understand that this was my decision to make. I thought it only fair for you to know before I told anyone else."
"Yes, your decision." Count Volger stated, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Although, as of late, your decisions have been more than a bit careless. Allow me to name them, on the off chance you have forgotten any."
Volger started listing them on his fingers, getting more passionate about the subject as he went. "Abandoning your post to walk across a glacier and befriend the enemy. Joining Ottoman revolutionaries to help them depose a fellow royal. Divulging your secrets to reporters. Joining forces with a madman who almost destroyed an entire city. And now you throw away your chance to rule an empire. All for a lowly, no account girl! And that is only to name a few of your exceptionally poor choices!" By this time, Volger was all but shouting at Alek.
Alek seethed for a moment at Volger's description of Deryn. He was about to correct him, but had to admit that the man's other statements had been very accurate.
He made an effort to calm himself before speaking. "Yes. Granted, I have made more than a few unwise, foolish, even some stupid decisions in the past few months. But there is something that I refuse to admit was a mistake."
He paused to make sure he had the Count's full attention. "And that is anything that led me to Deryn. She is, without a doubt, the best thing that has ever happened in my life."
He paused before saying, "I love her Volger."
These words seemed to freeze anything the older man was about to say.
"I chose to give up the throne, because I cannot lose her." Alek said, finality in his voice.
After a moment, Volger simply nodded once. "Very well, Aleksandar."
Later that day, Volger informed Alek that he would be staying in London as well—much to Deryn's frustration, when she was informed. Apparently, after speaking with Dr. Barlow, the two sneaky-beaks had agreed that Alek's tutoring should continue and that Volger's military expertise was still needed. He would be continuing as Alek's fencing instructor and acting as a consultant on military matters for the Zoological Society's efforts to stop the war.
Alek brought his mind out of his reverie.
He was very sure now, that he had made the correct choice. Not only because of the obvious reason, that he was able to stay with Deryn. Also because, after the war had ended—nearly two years ago— there was no longer an Austro-Hungarian throne to be had.
Alek brought his mind back to the present, to the woman in his arms, and his strong feelings for her. He knew without a doubt that he was in love with Deryn, and she with him.
This led him to ponder the secret that he had hidden from her.
He had agonized for several weeks about it, knowing that they had promised not keep secrets. However, he also knew that this was a necessary one to keep; at least for a time.
He slipped carefully from the bed, trying not to wake Deryn. Moving soundlessly, he gathered his clothing from dresser drawers and walked to the other room to get changed.
All the while his mind buzzed, formulating plans in his head.
Notes: I hope this story was enjoyable!
All credit goes to the amazing Scott Westerfeld!
