"In your house?"

Dr. Barlow stops the smirk before her mouth can do more than twitch slightly. Deryn Sharp fails to notice her amusement, being preoccupied instead with gaping in a most unladylike manner.

"Unless you have a situation already arranged," Dr. Barlow says, pulling on her cleanest pair of gloves. She doesn't mind traveling, but she is looking forward to the comforts of civilization, including reliable laundering.

The girl blinks. "Well – no, ma'am. I stayed with my brother before, but he's on the Minotaur now."

Dr. Barlow is not surprised to hear this. She adjusts her bowler hat and finds herself wishing for a proper mirror. Silly of her, to be so aflutter about the prospect of seeing Alan and her children again – but there it is. "Then you shall stay with us until something suitable can be found."

"But…" The midshipman trails off, glancing behind her – no doubt looking for the prince and the count. Indeed, Dr. Barlow is likewise wondering why those two are so delayed. The Leviathan is due to arrive in London within the hour, and the four of them will be leaving together. Dr. Barlow was quite clear with Count Volger, this morning, about her desire to meet and discuss the final details.

Deryn looks back around again, repeating (somewhat helplessly): "In your own house?"

Dr. Barlow quirks an eyebrow up. "We have more than sufficient space, I assure you. If none of the guest rooms suit you, I shall be perfectly happy to place you in the servants' quarters."

The girl recovers, unable to hide her own smirk. "Aye – I mean, no, ma'am. A guest room will be more than fine, I reckon."

"Excellent," Dr. Barlow says. She straightens her skirt and looks to the cabin door just as it is darkened by Count Volger and Prince Aleksandar. "Ah, Your Highness. Count. So good of you to finally join us."

"We were seeing to our own matters," Volger says.

"Indeed," Dr. Barlow says, drily. She gestures at Deryn. "We have been discussing living arrangements."

"Alek and I could let a flat together," Deryn says unexpectedly, causing the boy in question to sputter and turn a rather florid shade of red even as she grins in mischief.

Volger's eyes narrow, but he makes no reply.

Dr. Barlow has a moment of amused pity for the count. As long as the children mind themselves in public (and in private, to the extent that Mr. Sharp does not suddenly have to explain away a large abdomen), she has no concerns about what they get up to.

She's a mother, yes, but she's not their mother. And as a fabricator, she can hardly decry what amounts to the raison d'être of biology.

But Volger has no such luxury. He is Alek's guardian, and more than that, he is beholden to his late friend's wishes. Dr. Barlow has not been made privy to all of those, but one can reasonably assume that early fatherhood is not on the list.

Time is short, so Dr. Barlow elects not to notice the undercurrents swirling about the room. Instead she moves on: "Of course Aleksandar will eventually wish to establish his own household –"

"Of course," Volger says, pointedly not looking at Miss Sharp.

Deryn continues to grin, unabashed. Dr. Barlow admires the girl's pluck, if not her cheek.

"- but it seems only logical that the three of you should be my guests until such time as these details can be settled," she concludes.

There is a small pause during which many things are not said. Dr. Barlow watches the Austrians exchange a glance, and then Alek coughs politely and says, "Thank you, Doctor. That is quite generous. We accept."

"Indeed," Volger says. "Quite generous."

She elects not to notice that undercurrent, either.

"Just like that?" Deryn asks, surprised. "I thought you'd at least kick up a bit of a fuss about it."

"Well, I am a pauper now," the prince says lightly, smiling at her. "I must depend on the charity of others."

Volger clears his throat. "You are forgetting something, Your Highness."

Alek looks up at the count, frowning slightly. "What is that?"

"I may have misdirected you earlier, when I implied that you were penniless."

Alek's frown deepens. "But my father's gold is gone... or very nearly. And I have no way to inherit from him without the pope's letter."

"You cannot now inherit from your father, true," Volger says, "but you are still your mother's heir. And the Archduke took precautions there as well. The estates at Konopischt and Artstetten are yours – as is a not inconsiderable fortune."

Silence greets that pronouncement. Dr. Barlow was well aware of the facts – indeed, she and the count had discussed this only days before, while Leviathan was still in New York – but it seems the children were not. They look stunned.

Most amusing.

"Just like that," her loris says, then cackles.

"The charity of others," the loris on Alek's shoulder says in apparent agreement.

"Oh," the prince says faintly. "Yes. Of course. So I… I'm not a pauper?"

"No more than you ever were." Volger straightens his already straight cuffs. "Of course, it will be difficult to access that fortune at present, considering that we are both persona non grata to the Empire."

"Once the war ends, I should think," Dr. Barlow says. She's enjoying this immensely. And she'll be able to tell Alan all about it (and the rest of her adventures) in a few short hours.

Truly, this has been an excellent morning.

"Blisters," Deryn says. She turns to Alek, astonishment already giving way again to mischief. "In that case, your princeliness – d'you think you could buy me a balloon?"

"Yes," he says, ears red but face and voice perfectly composed. "We can put it in our flat."