The Accidental Empress (21 page)

Franz would go on to marry some other duchess or princess and lead a perfectly happy life. A life Sisi would read about in the newspapers, and hear about on the Possenhofen villagers’ lips. She’d hear when he had royal babies, or when he won new lands for his empire.

Sisi looked down, the toast trembling in her hands, and she replaced it back on the china plate. Pushing herself away from the table, she rose. She had to see him, one more time. Had to tell him how she felt, even if it was the last time she’d ever speak to him.

She dressed quickly, selecting a gown of soft lilac silk that felt cool against the August heat. It was simple but tailored to her figure snugly, and she complemented it with a thin strand of pearls. She didn’t lose any time in braiding her hair, but instead pulled her dark blond waves back in a loose, hurried bun that rested on her shoulders.

The hallway outside her bedchamber was quiet and dimly lit. Sisi descended the broad staircase, her eyes alert for any sign of Franz on the ground floor. But, to her dismay, it was not Franz she found.

“Elisabeth, good morning.” Sophie sat ensconced in a plush satin chair in the front drawing room, stroking the little dog in her lap. Spotting her niece, she waved her quiet companion, the Countess Esterházy, away.

“Good morning, Aunt Sophie.”

“Come here, niece.”

Sisi shifted her weight, pausing outside the threshold of the drawing room. “I did not mean to interrupt you, Aunt.”

“It’s no interruption. I was just getting caught up on some correspondence.” Sophie adjusted herself in the overstuffed chair, sitting up taller. Her eyes narrowed as she looked at Sisi. “Well, you are looking cured this morning. Are you recovered from the overexertion of last night, I hope?”

“Indeed I am. Thank you, Aunt Sophie.”

“Franz was worried about you, after you left the ball so suddenly.” Sophie’s tone turned chilly even though she still wore a smile on her features. “I was forced to remind him that there are matters of much greater importance with which he might concern himself.”

“My cousin is kind,” Sisi answered. The little dog in Sophie’s lap growled as Sisi approached, so she stopped her steps.

“Well, he has put it out of his head, that’s for certain. He’s gone hunting to celebrate his birthday. He’ll be gone the entire day.”

Sisi’s heart dropped into her stomach. Nevertheless, she forced a polite smile. “How nice for him. We will look forward to hearing about the hunt at dinner this evening.”

“No, you won’t,” Sophie answered. The dog now began barking at Sisi, a bothersome, high-pitched yip. “Hush, Oskar!” Sophie scolded the dog, yet she simultaneously raised the tiny puff of fur to her lips and gave it an indulgent kiss. “Franz will sup this evening with his ministers.”

Was Sisi imagining it, or was her aunt scouring her niece’s face with more than usual interest? Perhaps searching for some indication that she, Sisi, was disappointed at this news.

Unwilling to be read this way, Sisi kept a mask of calm as her aunt continued to speak. “My son needs time with the men. So it’ll be just the ladies dining here this evening. You, me, your mother, and my son’s fiancée.”

Her son’s fiancée? So now Sophie was suddenly feeling a mother-in-law’s fondness toward Helene?

“Lovely,” Sisi replied. “Well, if you’ll excuse me, Aunt, I shall take my leave.” With a quick curtsy, Sisi turned and exited the drawing room. As she walked back toward her bedchamber, she forced herself to keep her steps slow and measured, even as her heart raced.

With Franz unavailable all day, Helene decided to postpone her announcement as well. Sensing that perhaps it was wise to have as little contact with her aunt as possible, Sisi spent the day in the gardens and the stables, visiting with Diamant and Blume. It was with a pang of melancholy that she noticed Sieger’s empty stall; the horse was out enjoying the day with Franz, just as she had done yesterday.

Dinner was a strained, uncomfortable affair. As there were to be no ministers or men of importance present, the small party of four women ate in a small, dark-paneled dining room. The spread was significantly less extravagant than it had been on the previous nights, but the informality came as a relief. Knowing that it would just be the four of them, Sisi did not bother to change for dinner, but instead kept on the same lilac gown she’d worn all day.

Sophie talked throughout most of the meal, her attention fixed persistently on Helene. She prattled on about the plans for the renovations to the Kaiservilla. “It will never be as grand as our Schönbrunn Palace, but nothing could be, you see? Why, Schönbrunn has more than fourteen hundred rooms!”

Ludovika responded good-naturedly whenever there was an opening, but Sisi and Helene sat in silence, with Helene avoiding Sophie’s eyes and Sisi drinking perhaps too much wine to wash down the heavily salted fish.

Dessert became even more uncomfortable when the footman failed to appear with the correct dish.

“Chocolate soufflé?” Sophie looked at the platter in disgust. “Why, we are melting into soufflé in this heat ourselves. I specifically ordered a cold lemon ice.”

The fish had been tough and oversalted, the molten cake much too hot for the evening, and Sisi had partaken of too much wine. Leaving the dinner table feeling anxious and overheated, she decided that a sip of Bad Ischl spring water was in order. It would be a welcome refreshment after that long and uncomfortable meal.

Sisi exited a side door, hoping to slip undetected into the quiet night. She found her way in the dark to the small garden behind the palace, where she had seen a small fountain and pump. Once there, she stood alone, thankful for the cool, balmy breeze on her skin. She took a sip of water.

Sisi spotted a cool stone bench and sat. The night was dark and comforting, with the jagged outline of the silver mountain peaks climbing upward toward a thin slice of moon. How nice it would be to sleep out here, she thought, enjoying the soft murmuring sounds of the water trickling from the nearby fountain. She stared up at the moon, allowing herself to be transported back to the lakeside field in Bavaria, the place to which she escaped so often at night to stare up at that same moon. She shut her eyes and heard only soft sounds: water and owls and crickets, the familiar trills and stirrings of the night. From somewhere inside the palace, a waltz played.

And then a voice shook her solitary vigil, jarring in its closeness. “All alone out here?”

Franz’s voice. She started, opening her eyes and looking around the garden. Her gaze went toward a glow of gentle light, spilling into the garden from an interior room, and with it the sound of soft music. There was Franz, leaning out of the opened window.

“Franz!” She rose from the bench and skipped toward him, embarrassed by how ill-concealed her joy was at his appearance. She checked herself, reminding herself not to run to him.

“Good evening, Elisabeth.” He too smiled broadly, making no attempt to conceal his delight. Sisi felt herself quiver before that smile.

“Franz, I’m surprised to see you. Your mother had told us you were dining out with ministers.”

“Is that so?” Franz looked at her, a quizzical expression on his features. “I was asked by Mother to take my supper in my study. She told me the ladies needed to dine together to discuss important matters.”

Sisi looked over Franz’s shoulder and sure enough, on his heavy walnut desk sat a tray of emptied dishes, surrounded by several opened books. So he hadn’t experienced the same distaste for the salted fish, she noted.

“I used the opportunity to take you up on your recommendation,” Franz said, turning to his desk and picking up a book. “I’ve been reading Goethe.”

Sisi couldn’t help but smile.

“But I’m afraid I’ll need some help on your part.” Franz replaced the book onto his desk. “It’s quite dense, is it not?”

“I’d be delighted to discuss it with you,” Sisi answered, her voice barely louder than a whisper.

“What did you ladies discuss over dinner—this matter of such great import?” Franz was now leaning out the window, his smiling face illuminated in the gentle glow of the candlelit study.

“Nothing,” Sisi answered, her tone blunt. “Nothing at all.”

Franz erupted in laughter, and before Sisi knew what he was doing, he heaved his legs over the windowsill and hopped down into the garden. Now he stood in front of her. The musicians left behind in the study faltered, as if unsure whether to continue.

“Play on,” Franz called, nodding back toward the open window. And, seamlessly, they obeyed. What must it be like, Sisi wondered, to have your own quintet at your command?

Sisi stepped closer toward him, suddenly less interested in the spring water she had craved. He appeared casual—more casual than usual, his uniform jacket discarded and left behind in his study. He wore only a collared shirt, its top buttons undone and the sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

She looked up into his eyes. “So then, did you really even go hunting? Or have you simply been hiding all day?”

“I did in fact go hunting, that much was truthful,” he answered. “I can’t see why Mother would tell me . . .” Franz shrugged.

But Sisi had a guess: Sophie was trying to keep them away from one another.

“And what brings you out into the gardens all alone?” Franz smiled at her. “A secret rendezvous with some nameless suitor? I’ll have his name immediately and banish him from court.”

Sisi lowered her eyes, grateful for the shadows in the garden. “I wish it was that intriguing. I just wanted a sip of the water. The dinner was salty.”

“Then help yourself.” He stepped aside, and Sisi walked to the fountain, dipping her mouth slowly under the gentle trickle of water.

“Good?”

“Yes.” She rose from the fountain and wiped her lips. Just then, the most beautiful music began to play, its sound seeping out from the open window of Franz’s study. Sisi stood, transfixed, listening to the melody. Its beat unfolded in triple time, filling the courtyard with measures of its light, gay tune.

Franz, noticing her reaction, asked: “Do you know
Die Schlittschuhlaufer-Walzer
?”

“The Skater’s Waltz?” Sisi repeated the name. “No, I’ve never heard it before in my life. But it’s the most beautiful song.”

Franz lifted a hand, wavering. And then, he extended it toward her. “Would you be so kind?”

Sisi looked at him, silent.

“Oh come now, Elisabeth, no need to be shy with me. It’s much less pressure than last night.”

Sisi accepted his outstretched hand, allowing him to pull her body closer. Matching his steps, she began a languid waltz through the garden. He was right—it felt nothing like it had last night. This dance, between just the two of them, felt real. Honest. Entirely different.

He really was an alarmingly good dancer, his steps smooth and sure. Their feet fell in together, their movements as slow as the violins that unfurled the dreamlike melody. They were nearly the same height, so that as they danced, Sisi couldn’t help but catch the clear blue of Franz’s eyes. She felt her cheeks growing warm, but refused to look away from his expectant gaze.

“This song is meant to call to mind the image of
les patineurs
.”

“Ice skaters,” Sisi said, translating his French.

“It’s nice to conjure a winter’s scene on this hot evening, isn’t it?” Franz asked, his smile as cool and crisp as the snow-flecked images Sisi imagined behind the music.

“Indeed.” She agreed. “I can’t quite decide, though. It’s beautiful, and delicate. But also, it strikes me as . . .”

“As what?”

“Sad, somehow.”

“Yes.” Franz nodded. When he spoke next, his lips were so close that his breath hovered over the soft skin of her neck, a warm, dizzying mist. “Sometimes, something is so beautiful that when you look on it, you are struck with immense sadness. Either because it can’t stay that way forever, or”—and now his face was intense, earnest—“because you cannot have that beautiful thing which you long to possess.”

Sisi hoped now that the evening was dark enough to conceal her flush. Franz dropped his hands so that their dancing stopped abruptly. In the pale light she noticed that his expression had grown serious, perhaps even a little bit troubled.

Sisi didn’t speak, but instead stared up at the velvety black sky, at the craggy mountain peaks that rose up to meet it, carving into the star-strewn tableau. She wondered which had been the peak that she and Franz had ascended yesterday.

Franz eventually broke the silence: “I needed to clear my head today, you see. That’s why I went hunting.” A pause. “But it did not work.”

Sisi considered this confession, noting the speed with which her heart suddenly raced in her breast. “I am sure that a great number of worries constantly weigh upon you, Franz.”

“No, just one, lately.”

“Oh?” She was as breathless as she had been while galloping up the mountain atop Diamant.

“Elisabeth, I wish you had not come.”

It was not what she had been expecting to hear, and certainly not what she had
hoped
to hear. His words, toneless, might have been addressed to a servant. Or worse, a stranger. Stung, Sisi took a few steps back.