Adolphus: You were chosen. This is a great honor.
Charlotte: Oh, how difficult was it to be chosen? Someone who can make lots of babies. Someone who can read. Someone with all the social graces, with a royal bloodline. That is all they required. It is not an honor. You could've told them to choose someone else. Someone stupid enough to want it.
Adolphus: They did not want someone stupid. They wanted you.
Adolphus: You are upset.
Charlotte: 'Tis a viable option I have considered. Moving. Choosing to be killed by my undergarments.
Charlotte: We have what? An hour to go? I believe if I'm diligent with my movements, I could most certainly bleed to my death before we reach London.
Adolphus: Like I said, you are upset.
Charlotte (to Adolphus): All the finest corsets are whalebone. You'd know that if you knew anything. If you ever paid attention you would also know that the problem with whalebone is that it is rather delicate and also very, very sharp. And, of course, I'm in the height of fashion, so this corset is quite snug. So I give the appearance of a statue, ridiculous to the eye, but that is because I cannot move. And because I must arrive on display, I am forced into a ludicrous gown so stylish that if I move too much, I might be sliced and stabbed to death by my undergarments. Oh, how joyful it is to be a lady.
Adolphus: You have not moved an inch in six hours.
Charlotte: I am wearing Lyonnais silk, encrusted with Indian sapphires, working with overlay of 200-year-old lace. Apparently too much movement can cause the sapphires to shred the lace. If that were not enough, the gown sits atop a bespoke underpinning made of whalebone.
Charlotte: Yes. Whalebone, Brother. The bones of whales. Whales died, so I could look like this.