The Dead Princess Society

Chapter Nine

Never had the celebration been prepared under such a sense of fear. Not in many, many years, anyway. Neferu could tell all the princesses felt gloomy and worried. But they were still all keen on celebrating as much as they could.

Atzi was sweeping dust off the ballroom floor. Akari and Anastasia brought in shining candlesticks so the place could be lit up on the night. Vivienne was actually tuning the piano. How she knew how to do that, Neferu had no idea.

Neferu looked up at the chandelier and sighed. Hundreds of crystals hung from the metal; cobwebs hung from the crystals. But it was too high up. Not everything could be perfect.

"Where should we put the table for the shrine?" asked Matilda. Khulekani was with her.

"Put it over against that wall. Opposite the piano. Find some velvet and lace cloths and some candles to decorate it," Neferu instructed them. They nodded and dispersed to do what was needed.

Neferu watched them and instructed them for hours. Evening fell like a silken, indigo blanket and night glittered in shortly after. The moon crowned the sky as the Dead Princess Society traipsed upstairs to their favourite sitting room.

Neferu wondered how Angelina was getting along. It must be so nice to still be alive. Though Angelina had a better life than Neferu ever did. Then again, they shared one thing in common. An engagement they desperately did not want to enter. The difference was, Neferu's fiance had slit her throat when she had refused. And he had gone on to be one of Egypt's most powerful men.

So many of the princesses had similarly tragic stories. Vivienne had been executed at the guillotine at the tender age of eighteen. Atzi had been brutally strangled by Spanish conquistadors.  Akari, succumbed to the smoke and flames when an enemy had set fire to her family's castle. Khulekani, poisoned by another girl out of jealousy and spite.

They had to remain with the memory of their deaths every day. For Neferu, it had been thousands of years. The peace that princesses used to go to after one hundred years seemed very attractive. If only she could reverse that curse so the same happened again.

Neferu often found herself musing over the fact that they were here. Of course, it was to keep the knowledge of all the treasures of the world alive but hidden from the greed of humanity. That way the treasures could be appreciated by someone, but not exploited. And they held knowledge of essentially everything. Being able to speak every language could come in useful. She supposed this state of existence was another chance. They had all died so young, at their prime, when they should have been flourishing. Yes, this was another chance, even if the purpose was weak. She hadn't quite worked out why it was only nobles and princesses that existed here, but she supposed it was because nobility had the biggest chance to change something when alive. This chance had been stripped away from them, so they were given a second one.

Footsteps in the corridor snapped Neferu out of her thoughts and made her alert once more. Angelina entered. Neferu checked the moon. It was almost midnight.

"Good evening, Angelina," said Neferu. "Have you anything to report?"

"Yes. Not as much as I wish, but I've got something. We went to the Allard's house yesterday, the day after my brother arrived home. I found an excuse to go upstairs. In his study I couldn't see the big books, but I found a couple of positively ancient small ones. They were written in Greek."

"Yes, those would be some of the first ones written by Cornelius," sighed Neferu. "I don't think they're as dangerous as the later ones, but Edward has them as well, does he not?"

"I'm fairly certain that's the case," agreed Angelina. "I took a copy; there were only three pages in the book with words on them. I'm going to try to translate them tomorrow. Unless one of you can read Greek?"