The Derring-Do Club and the Empire of the Dead Read Online Free PDF Page B

flying airships.
    “Gott… what to do?” the Fräulein said.
    “I can’t… perhaps.”
    Charlotte was simply stringing words together, hoping that her gentle tone would keep the other girl talking. Perhaps she would know how to escape from a Zeppelin and get back to school.
    “My parents promised me to…” And then, like the students running down corridors after the break time bell, the words tumbled out in a rush: “I’m betrothed. A political alliance. Once I’m there, my life will be over. I love Franz.”
    “Franz?”
    “He’s an Alferes.”
    “Ah, the uniforms.”
    “Ja.” The girl laughed, joining in with Charlotte’s giggle.
    Charlotte had an idea: “Uniforms…”
    “Uniforms?”
    “What if we were to change clothing? They can’t marry me off, can they? If it comes to the ‘just cause’ moment, then I’ll just admit who I am. They won’t marry me because they want an alliance. And you? Well, there’s a chance that wherever we’re going, you can escape if you tell them you are of royal blood.”
    “How did you know I was a Princess?”
    Charlotte just smirked.
    “It does not sound like a good plan,” said the Princess.
    “No, I suppose not.”
    “It is better than doing nothing.”
    “That’s the spirit.”
    Charlotte jumped up and took off her dark blue coat. The Princess realised and began to take off her clothes, turning away, and then asking Charlotte for help. Clearly Her Royal Highness was not used to dressing unaided. Charlotte handed over the patched blouse that Earnestine had discarded when it was torn, the petticoats that had been Georgina’s, and Earnestine’s before that, and the second–hand corset. In return, she put on the Princess’s fine silk dress. Soon they were fussing over each other: the Princess inexpertly put Charlotte’s hair up with a jewel encrusted diadem.
    “You’re English,” said Charlotte, tugging down the Princess’s hair.
    “Nein.”
    “No, I mean you are English now.”
    “Ja.”
    “Yes.”
    “Yesss. And you are Bavarian.”
    “Ach, mein Gott, bratwurst, yawol.”
    “Perhaps it would be better if you kept quiet.”
    Charlotte was none too pleased by this comment: “We can’t be found together.”
    “Nein, where were you?”
    “I was in the… back at the stern. Cabin nineteen and twenty.”
    “Ja.”
    They went to the door and the Princess peeked out: “At the stern, you say?”
    “Yes… I mean, Ja.”
    “Ja,” the Princess corrected.
    “I said ‘Ja’.”
    The Princess closed the door behind her leaving Charlotte alone.
    “You’re as bad as Ness,” Charlotte said to the teak panel.
    The bolt clicked back across locking her in.
    Charlotte tried the handle.
    “Shhh…” said the Princess, “they will be suspicious if it is unlocked.”
    “But Fräulein,” Charlotte hissed back, “Fräulein… your Highness… oi!”
    Silence: except for the rotors of the Zeppelin and distant creaking of metal fuselage.
    Around her, large trunks were flipped on their ends and opened at their hinges. Inside them, Charlotte found fine clothes, silk handkerchiefs and ribbons arranged in shelves and integral drawers. There was a dressing table with a mirror. Charlotte saw how badly her hair was arranged, so she sat down, the light wicker chair creaking under her, to fix it. Eventually she had to take it all down, brush it and start over.
    If only Earnestine and Georgina could see her now, all smart and grown up and sensible. How clever she had been to come up with the idea, all by herself, of swapping clothes: how stuffy they both were with their talk of ‘responsibility’ and ‘duty’ and ‘thou shalt not blah–blah’. From now on, Charlotte resolved, she would be her own person, so she stood and twirled around, admiring her reflection and imagining herself as the Princess. This was something she could choose for herself and not something imposed by her bossy sisters.
    What was she now? An Acting Princess certainly, and she had