Chapter 12
After she was finished, Deryn held up the dress proudly. She'd cut off all of the frill, shredding parts of the dress along with it. After sending Mazie to fetch a needle and some thread, Deryn had managed to make the patches fit back together.
Then, she took the left part of the dress, and folded it back to about mid-thigh and sewing it in place, giving the end of the dress slant. This way, she could move about.
"But, Miss, it just isn't proper! It's not ladylike!" Mazie exclaimed, looking more worried than ever.
Deryn slipped the dress over her head, surprised when it settled into place with ease.
Turning to Mazie, Deryn gave her a wide smile.
"Once again, Mazie, I am not a barking lady! I'm an airman! Or airwoman! Whatever! My point is, that on the Leviathan, the only time people care about manners or properisms, it's on the ground."
Mazie was taken aback, before she sighed.
"Okay, Highness. Let's..."
A knock sounded from the door.
"Princess Deryn, are you presentable?" came the muffled voice from the otherside of the door.
Deryn leaned over to Mazie.
"Can I say 'No'?"
Mazie smiled and shook her head.
Deryn sighed once more.
"Yeah."
The door opened to show Jaques. He walked in, and appraised her with his eyes, taking in every inch. He smiled a creepy smile.
"Your Highness, you look ravishing, but whatever happened to the Queen's choice dress?" He asked, with a bow.
"You're looking at it. That frilly mess wasn't a barking dress. It was a curtain. So I made adjustments." Deryn replied.
Jaques sighed, then turned to Mazie. "Did she do anything to the shoes?" he demanded.
Mazie cowered, lowering her eyes and shaking her head.
"Fetch them."
Mazie scurried to the wardrobe and pulled out a pair of matching pink, frilly shoes.
"What in blazes are those? I refuse to wear those barking death-traps!" Deryn exclaimed, stepping away.
"Then, what do you propose you wear?" Jaques asked snarkily, eyeing the room.
Deryn pointed to her discarded clothes, knowing full well her middies' boots stood by them.
"But, Your Highness, that-"
"'Just isn't done', yeah, I know. That seems to be the motto around here. Quite honestly, though, I don't care. I'm wearing the woman killer, and the stupid curtain. I'm not wearing the death-traps as well. Give me the boots." She demanded.
Mazie cast a quick glance at Jaques, trying to decide who she was more afraid of, Deryn or Jaques, before she decided it was Deryn. She walked towards the giant Queen sized bed, grabbed the scuffed black boots, and scurried back to Deryn.
Bending down, Mazie tried to place the boots on Deryn's feet, but Deryn shooed her away.
"I don't need your help putting boots on. I'm barking capable."
Securing the boots, Deryn stood, feeling a fraction like herself again.
"Okay, let's go meet this daft prince of yours."