The Accidental Empress (39 page)

“Elisa, you’re awake. Finally!” Franz rose from the chair in which he sat before the fireplace, running toward his wife in bed. “I thought you might sleep for days.”

“Franz.” Sisi was disoriented as she emerged from her deep sleep, but relieved to tears at the fact that his was the first face she saw. As awareness returned to her, she tried to sit up. But then, feeling how her entire body ached, she decided against it. “Franz, where is Helene?”

“Our beautiful little girl is resting happily in her bassinet.” Franz, beside the bed now, took Sisi’s hand in his and covered it in kisses. “She is so perfect, Elisa, wait until you see her.”

Sisi looked around the room, seeking out the bassinet. She blinked, still disoriented. Her mouth was so dry she thought it might crack. “Where is she?”

“With her Grandmamma, in the nursery.”

“With Sophie?”

“Yes.” Franz nodded, kissing Sisi’s hand once more. “Mother has arranged a perfect wet nurse for her. Oh, Elisa, I’m so proud of you. You did it, my brave darling. Bravo!”

“Franz, I want to see Helene. I haven’t held her yet.” Instinctively, Sisi reached for her breasts, which were now even more swollen than they had been throughout the pregnancy, and intolerably tender. “I want to nurse her.”

“Now, just a minute, Elisa.” Sisi did not like the tenuous expression on her husband’s face. “You have worked hard enough.”

“What? Nonsense; I want my baby.”

“There are ways in which we do things in the palace.” Franz paused, lowering his eyes so that he no longer looked directly at his wife, but rather at the hand of hers that he held in his own. “The empress does not nurse her own babies.”

“What? Why not?”

“I shall have Mother, or the nurses, explain all of this to you. It’s not really something I should be discussing.”

“Never mind that,” Sisi said, too tired and anxious to see her daughter to argue that point. “Well, I won’t nurse her then. But I want to see Helene.”

“Now, let’s not be too hasty to decide on a name.” Franz shifted his weight on the bed.

“What do you mean, too hasty? We decided this months ago. There’s nothing hasty about it.”

“But again, Elisa, there are proper ways to do things in the court. And naming is usually something in which the grandparents have a say. Why, I was named after my grandfather.”

Sisi’s stomach tightened.

“Now don’t get mad, Elisa,” Franz said preemptively.

“Your mother wishes to name our daughter?”

“Yes. And I think we ought to allow her to. Just this time. It’s the respectful thing to do.”

“What does she wish to name her?”

“Mother thought it might be nice to use a family name.”

“Helene
is
a family name, Franz.”

“Mother suggested naming her . . . Sophie.”

“How surprising,” Sisi answered, her tone acidic. “Sophie. After herself.”

“Exactly,” Franz agreed, not sensing Sisi’s silent fury. “We’ve had the priest draw up the announcement to be distributed to the churches throughout the empire. The entire realm will pray for Princess Sophie at a special mass tomorrow.”

“So it’s already decided.” What else had they determined about her daughter while Sisi had slept? “And did you go ahead and baptize her without me as well? And arrange her marriage?”

“She had to be baptized.” Franz laughed, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “God forbid anything happened to her, we couldn’t have her little soul unclaimed.”

Sisi’s throat seized, swallowing the words with which she tried to answer. “You . . . you baptized my daughter without me?”

“It was nothing. It’s never a big affair for the girls. A quick service in the family chapel. Better to have it done with. As you know, those events are much bigger when it’s a son. Then, it’s a matter of the State.”

Sisi felt as though she might cry, except for the fact that her body was so depleted, no tears sprung to her eyes. “I can’t believe you baptized my daughter without me.” She spoke the words so quietly that Franz did not hear.

“Little Sophie, our daughter.” Franz took his wife’s hand in his. “Isn’t it wonderful to have a baby? And you wanted a girl.”

Sisi thought of her younger sister back at Possi, a beautiful, sprightly little girl by the name of Sophie-Charlotte. She would think of her daughter as named after Sophie-Charlotte. “Certainly. It’s lovely.” Sisi managed a smile. She would not allow the joy of holding her daughter to be tarnished, not even by her mother-in-law’s selfishness. “Please, Franz, bring me my little Sophie. I want to hold my daughter.”

It took an hour for the little princess to arrive from the nursery, as Aunt Sophie had forbidden anyone to remove the baby from the bassinet until she had awoken naturally from a nap.

But when the baby was finally brought in, carried by a weepy Agata and placed in Sisi’s yearning arms, the joy of holding her daughter for the first time overshadowed the pain Sisi had wrestled while waiting.

“My daughter,” Sisi cooed, amazed by how instantaneous and compulsory the urge was to love and protect this little being. Tears rose to her eyes like a soft dew, and she wept, happily. “Sophie.” Sisi laughed as the baby yawned, and she offered her pinky finger for the little mouth to nibble.

“Agata, can you please fetch Franz?” The maid nodded and quit the room, leaving mother and daughter alone.

“Hello, my little girl. I am so happy to meet you, finally.” After several minutes, Sophie yawned once more, spreading wide her rosebud lips into a tiny circle. “You are so perfect, my little girl. So perfect,” Sisi cried, covering her daughter’s round cheeks in soft, tear-stained kisses.

Sisi had an idea and she did not care who might oppose it. Quickly, she reached down and slid her nightdress off. “Are you hungry, my little Sophie?” She offered her breast to her daughter. At first Sophie resisted the nipple that was being pressed against her lips. But eventually she opened her mouth and began to suckle happily.

It was a strange, new sensation to feed her daughter at her own breast, but the relief Sisi felt was almost immediate. As her daughter drank, Sisi felt as if both she and her daughter might be lulled into a calm, blissful nap.

“Elisa.” Franz had appeared in the doorway undetected. He walked toward his wife and daughter in the bed, an apprehensive look on his face. “You’re feeding her?”

“I am, Franz. Just this once. Please, don’t oppose me.” Sisi began to weep, so overcome was she by a rush of emotions. “I just wanted to know what it felt like to nurse my baby.”

“I suppose it’s all right, if it’s just this once,” Franz acquiesced, sitting beside them. They were silent for several moments, both watching Sophie at her mother’s breast, and Sisi noticed the same love-struck look in her husband’s eyes that she was certain she herself wore.

“She is perfect, isn’t she, Franz?”

“I can’t believe she is ours, Elisa.” They held hands as Sisi wept, both of them looking down on the little girl. A being entirely of their making.

But the peace of this tender moment was pierced by a new voice. “Franz?” Aunt Sophie entered by the same open doorway through which Franz had just come. She, too, had been watching the scene. “We have spoken about this. And yet you flout my—the
doctor’s
—orders.”

“Mother, Elisabeth and I were just . . .” Franz stood up from the bed, stepping in front of his wife as if to conceal her from his mother’s watchful eyes.

“I see exactly what you are doing. Your wife is nursing the child. Elisabeth, this is highly . . . this is not how things are done.”

“Why not?” Sisi asked, the sweet calm she had just enjoyed shifting into quiet fury.

“It is custom. An empress does not nurse.”

Sisi, infuriated by her aunt’s unwelcome presence, as well as the foolishness of “custom” constantly being peddled as the justification for her unhappiness, snapped her retort. “It is my child, Aunt Sophie. And my breast, furthermore. I think I can decide what to do with each of them.”

Sophie, temporarily taken aback by her niece’s opposition, blinked. And then, composing herself, her eyes narrowing into two thin slits, she answered: “Elisabeth, perhaps you are
ignorant
in the ways of child rearing in the imperial court, seeing as you were raised in that provincial household, and are little more than a child yourself. Allow me to enlighten you.”

Sisi clutched her baby tighter to her breast as her aunt continued.

“It’s too much strain on your body. You need to recover. Leave the nursing to the woman whose job it is—the wet nurse. I’ve found a nice girl from Tyrol. She’s stronger than you. You are the empress and your efforts should be focused on conceiving again.”

This was so ridiculous that Sisi could not help but laugh. “Sophie, I am just now seeing my daughter for the first time. Please, do not talk to me of the next labor and child.” She turned back to her daughter, feeling her anger slacken as she beheld the soft, pink little features.

Sophie stood silent and apart from them, folding and unfolding her hands in petulant fists. When she spoke next, her tone was suddenly composed, even sweet. “What do you think of the name, Elisabeth?”

“It’s fine. It’s my younger sister’s name, and I have positive remembrances of her.”

“I’ve had it carved into her bassinet,” Sophie said. “In the nursery. Just adjacent to my bedroom.”

Sisi looked up. “Please have the bassinet brought in here. I will have my daughter sleep with me.”

“That won’t be happening,” Sophie said, her tone defiant. When Sisi looked up, her mouth poised to answer back, she noticed Sophie and Franz exchange a knowing look—telling Sisi that something else of importance had been discussed while she had slept.

“Elisabeth, your body has been through a lot.” Franz leaned forward, putting a hesitant hand on her arm. “You need to rest, you need to sleep. The last thing you need is a newborn in your bedroom with you, waking you up every hour.”

“But that’s preposterous. Where will she sleep, if not with her mother?”

“I’ve had the nursery prepared for her,” Sophie said. “She shall want for nothing—she will have nurses with her at all times, and I shall be just next door. They know that they may wake me at any hour.”

That was more than Sisi could bear. She did not even care who heard her protest now. “Franz, how can you listen to this? Do you not want our daughter with us?”

“Franz has an empire to rule,” Sophie said, stepping toward the bed. “You think he can afford a string of sleepless nights? Absolutely not. You both need your sleep. You both have your roles to fill.”

“Mother, please.” Franz raised a hand, beseeching his mother to be quiet. Turning back to his wife, he sighed. “Elisa, I want whatever is best for you. The doctor says, for now, that is sleep.”

Sophie, now assured of her son’s cooperation on the matter, sat down on the bed with them. “My dear girl, you can’t just come into the palace and change centuries’ worth of customs. This is how things are done.” Sophie smiled sweetly at Sisi, like a concerned mother. “Don’t worry so, my fretful little fusspot. You shall give yourself wrinkles.”

Sisi threw a daggered gaze at her mother-in-law.

“You shall see your little Sophie plenty. You just won’t have to wake every hour in the middle of the night. Believe me, my pet.” A gentle pat of the hand said:
That is that.
“My child, believe me, I am doing you and your husband a favor.”

The remainder of March passed in a blur of doctor-imposed resting and the opening of congratulatory gifts. Cousin Ludwig sent a trunk full of baby dresses in the style of Bavarian tailoring. Helene sent a porcelain doll with dark golden curls the color of Sisi’s. And Ludovika sent trunks full of the gowns and sleepwear and bonnets in which she had dressed her own daughters.

Thanks to her youth and strength, Sisi’s body recovered quickly, so that after several weeks she felt quite restless and ready to resume her normal schedule.

It was a gray afternoon in spring. The palace was quiet, the courtiers observing the somber rituals of Lent, a time when balls and concerts and other entertainments were flatly forbidden. That day, Sisi decided to ignore Doctor Seeburger’s orders of rest and summoned Countess Marie Festetics and Herr Lobkowitz to her apartments.

“How many letters have we received?” Sisi asked, sitting down into a blue satin settee in her office. Her body felt lithe and nimble once more, with the bulging belly almost entirely gone.

“Hundreds,” Herr Lobkowitz answered, his brow creased as he studied the stacks of notes—messages of congratulations from around the empire and from Europe’s leading families.

“Queen Victoria and Prince Albert have just sent you this.” Countess Marie pointed toward a basket overflowing with chocolates, pears, and petite macaroons.

“Goodness,” Sisi said, eyeing the overflowing bundle. “Take it down to the kitchens, tell the servants they may divide it up, Marie. And I shall have to remember to add them to the list of thank-you notes.”

“Let’s remember that Victoria’s youngest child, Prince Leopold, turns two on the seventh of April,” Herr Lobkowitz said matter-of-factly. “It might be wise to include a small toy horse with your letter, wishing Prince Leopold a happy birthday. He does love horses.”