"We must stand for what is right, not for those with might. We must stand against the tide, lest we be swept away by the torrents of fear and anger. Let us not be pushed back into senseless, bloody conflict! Let us remember that peace is what we must strive for – peace for our time!" The words echoed throughout the chamber, and all across Britain and Europe, many tuned in to hear the accented English of the Austrian Emperor Aleksandar I.

"Thank you for letting me speak today, and may we forever hold in our hearts the pains and losses of the Great War. Let us never forget the sacrifices that have been made."

With that, Alek stopped, finally stepping past the podium and looking at his audience. It had been a fairly lengthy broadcasted speech, some twenty-five minutes, and not only had he been presenting it over radio waves, he also had the luxury of presenting it live to the highest-esteemed members of the British government, including both the Prime Minister and the King of Great Britain himself.

"I must say, what a rousing speech," the Prime Minister said to him as Alek walked down amidst the applause. "Peace for our time – a wonderful concept, indeed." Alek smiled and thanked the man, moving past as still more members of Parliament came to greet him. Most congratulated him on his commitment to peace, to Europe, or whatever, but as the praise came in, Alek found himself losing focus.

None of this mattered. The British were not the Austrians, and they certainly weren't the Germans. It didn't matter if he had reached the hearts and minds of the British people, because they weren't the Austrian people. He had failed in his duty to prevent his nation from losing its sovereignty to the increasingly belligerent and expansionist Germans, and no words he said now could reverse that simple fact.

Some head of state he was.

Eventually, he had met everyone that wanted to meet him, and the mass of people moved into a nearby ballroom, where a reception was held, complete with music and refreshments. Men and women of high class filled the room, and gossip began flying past almost immediately.

Alek snagged a glass of wine for himself, nursing it silently as he absentmindedly stood in a group of British politicians, pretending to listen to their jokes and banter. Around him, rumors flew past at lightning speed, and he could only hear snippets every now and then.

"… Neville has certainly lost quite a bit of weight…"

"Dear God, she's really pregnant?"

"Dreadful thing, that race. I had really hoped for Guinevere to win."

"Have you seen what Barlow is wearing today? It's absolutely hideous!"

At the last one, Alek's eyes widened, and he smiled at the group of people he was with.

"Excuse me, gentlemen," he kindly started. "I'm afraid I have an urgent issue." He pointedly looked at the drained glass, eliciting chortles of laughter from the assembled group. He slipped away, leaving his drained glass with a waiter before picking up another, draining it in a single gulp (much to the apparent admonishment of more than one woman, if the gasps were to be believed), and leaving that glass as well as he strode off.

Barlow – she was here? Of course, the granddaughter of Darwin herself would only be of the highest class, if by birth alone. But if she were here…

Ignoring that thought, he moved for the side of the reception, where someone like Barlow, intelligent and not one for the center, would be.

There. By herself near one of the emptier tables of refreshments, Nora Barlow was sitting in a small chair and enjoying herself with a plate of cookies. At fifty-two, she was considerably older than when he had last saw her, but time had been kind to her; she looked more proper than ever before, as befitting someone of the lineage of Darwin himself. The greying hair only served to heighten her authority and stature, and the wrinkles that formed around her eyes framed a sharp intelligence that was easily visible.

Those eyes fell upon Alek. For a few seconds, he felt like a fifteen-year-old boy again, lost in the world. Then he remembered that he was no longer fifteen, and that he was, if not de facto, nominally the Emperor of the Austrian Federation. He strode over to the lady, ignoring the looks and whispers that permeated the air behind him.

"Dr. Barlow," Alek began, but Barlow held a hand up to pause him almost immediately.

"I see you've finally decided that it was time to grace us with your presence, your highness." The accusation was not lost on Alek, and he quickly searched to find an answer.

"Well, you see, it's been a very busy twenty years. Austria was devastated by the war, and I've had no time other than for my work."

Barlow scoffed, and chowed down on another cookie.

"A likely story. Not even time for a single letter." She put the plate down.

"You've some nerve to show up like this. Have you any idea what kind of pain you've caused her?"

Alek opened his mouth to respond, but a voice from behind him stole away any chance he had to retort.

"Here you go, Dr. Barlow. I've got the drinks you wanted." The voice was distinctly feminine, accented by a distinct lilt. A figure, shorter than Alek, came around him. "Oops," the figure spoke, nearly bumping into the pristine white uniform of the Austrian Emperor. "Sorry 'bout that." The figure placed both of the glasses in her hands down on the table, and turned around properly, beside Barlow, to face Alek.

Blue met green.

Eyes widened.

"Blisters," Deryn Sharp whispered, looking, wide-eyed, at the equally shocked visage of Alek.

"You bum-rag!" she suddenly yelled, halting the conversations near them as socialites turned to see the commotion.

"Where the bloody hell have you been for the last bloody twenty years!" Deryn's expression morphed from shocked to angry, and Alek had never wanted to retreat from the field of battle faster than this.

"Hello, Deryn," he weakly replied. "It's been quite a while, no?"

"Barking spiders, it's been two decades and that's what you say?"

Barlow came up between the two, gesturing to the open-air terrace.

"I suggest you two take this outside." Nodding his head, Alek walked towards the balcony, Deryn closely behind him. Once they were both outside, Barlow closed the doors behind them, leaving them alone in the night air.

"Well," Alek said, breaking the silence. "I'm not sure what to say."

Deryn didn't turn around, instead opting to place her hands on the marble railing and staring out towards the cityscape of London. The wind gently blew past, and Alek blinked a couple of times as he took in her form.

She was still about the same height, though a pair of heels added to that. On the other hand, she had developed into her womanly form, and no one could ever mistake her for a boy now. The light green dress that she wore only accentuated her womanliness, and, accompanied by her now shoulder-length blonde hair, Deryn looked… feminine. It was a strange change from the Deryn of his memories, but not that odd, considering the time.

Finally, she turned around, letting Alek see her face in detail. If time had been kind to Barlow, it had been a genie to Deryn. She looked just about the same as she had when he had left. He knew that time, on the other hand, had not been nice to him, that the stress and weariness of his work had aged him beyond his thirty-nine years. He only hoped that she didn't care.

"You know," Deryn began wistfully, "I used to wish that you didn't leave. That you would turn, begin to walk away, but then come back." She chuckled mirthlessly.

"I thought that you cared more than that. I guess I was wrong."

Alek's breath hitched in his throat, and it felt as if he were about to choke. His heart gnawed at him as the emotional anguish he had felt for years boiled to the top.

"Deryn," Alek responded, his voice scratchy and hoarse. Deryn's eyes flicked up to his face, and he could feel his eyes reddening.

"I-I'm not sure what to say. It's been so long." Alek walked over to lean on the marble railing, not trusting his legs to have the strength to keep him upright. His breath came out in erratic patterns, his emotions becoming too much for him to keep in. It had been twenty years, and he had been emotionally isolated for most of it. This was too much.

"I wished… I wished for many things over this time, but none more than…" his voice died in his throat, and Deryn looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to say the words that both knew were on his mind.

"I messed up," he began again. "I made the wrong choice. I thought I was doing this for the people, bu-but I really chose this to run away from my fear."

A pause.

"And what fear would that be?" Deryn's sharp tone pierced through the air.

A gulp.

"That I wasn't good enough for you."

She mirthlessly laughed once more.

"Bullshit. That's not it. You knew that I loved you, and you decided to run. If you didn't feel the same, then why didn't you fucking tell me!" Deryn grew more enraged as she worked herself up into an emotional frenzy.

"I loved you!" Alek yelled back, shocking the Scottish woman. "Gods, I loved you then and I love you now. I didn't run away because I didn't love you – I ran away because I was scared that it wouldn't work! Could you imagine the headlines then? Clanker prince with Darwinist commoner? We would've been torn apart by the tabloids alone!"

Deryn glared at Alek. "That's your best argument? I didn't take you for that kind of coward."

Alek exhaled, feeling his strength ebbing as he did.

"I was always a coward," he quietly replied. "I ran away from so much because I've always been scared."

Deryn was silent.

"I feel like it's too late now, but I have a letter." He scrummaged through his dress uniform's pockets, finally pulling out an envelope. Handing it to the woman, he turned around, facing the city in much the same way Deryn had earlier. Behind him, he heard the envelope being torn open and the letter within being unfolded.

Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale.

He concentrated on breathing as she flipped through the pages. Time passed, and he had no bearing for how long they had been out there, but finally, he heard the letter being folded up once more and placed back into the envelope.

"You're a fucking idiot, you know that?" Deryn's voice echoed past him.

"Indeed."

He turned around to see Deryn standing only a few feet behind him, her eyes brimming with tears.

"So many years," she whispered.

"So many years," he echoed.

Alek felt a tear fall down his own cheek – and then another, and another.

"I don't suppose you'd be willing to-to try again? To start anew?"

Deryn inhaled, and exhaled one great breath.

"We aren't getting any younger."

The smile that he felt on his lips was foreign, so genuine and uncontrollable that it felt like he was about to split his face.

"Hello, my name is Alek. Aleksandar von Hohenberg. It's a pleasure to meet you."

Deryn's own face lit up in a smile, showing off the dazzling beauty that made Alek want to cry out to the heavens for God to turn back time at any cost. Oh God, why had he given her up?

"Hi, you bloody Clanker. I'm Deryn Sharp. Nice to meet ya."

They were just two people on a balcony. As it should've been, twenty years late.