The Accidental Empress (42 page)

X.

“Then how can it be said I am alone,

when all the world is here to look on me?”

—William Shakespeare’s
A Midsummer Night’s Dream,
Sisi’s favorite play

Chapter Ten

SCHÖNBRUNN SUMMER PALACE, VIENNA

SPRING 1855

They moved shortly
after the Easter feast, when Sophie decided that the court would quit the Hofburg Palace for the few warm months before their departure to Bad Ischl. Sisi welcomed the decision, preferring the summer palace with its tall windows, swan-filled ponds, and mazy, flower-strewn gardens to the cold stone walls of the Hofburg.

May waltzed into Vienna with longer days and balmy weather, soft and delicate as the new buds that peeked out on the tree boughs. Master Strauss told anyone who would listen that he was hard at work on a new waltz for the imperial pair. Sisi, relishing the return of pleasant weather, spent as much time as she could out of doors, riding through the sloping hills that held Vienna in a gentle, newly green embrace.

It was a bright morning shortly before their relocation to the summer villa at Bad Ischl. Sisi sat in her bedroom with Agata, arranging her travel wardrobe.

“It will be several months, so you will need to pack at least sixty pairs of slippers for me. Oh, what a silly rule, wearing a new pair each day,” Sisi grumbled, making a note to have Herr Lobkowitz order the shoes. “It was wasteful extravagances such as that which cost our poor cousins in France their heads.”

“And gloves, Your Imperial Majesty,” Agata said, eyes lowered.

“And gloves, as well.” Sisi sighed, looking at the maid. “Another foolish court
custom.
Having to wear those bothersome gloves at every meal. As if dirtying my hands is such a crime.”

The maid nodded but did not smile, as she usually would have. “I shall be sure to fetch your gloves, Empress.”

“You’re awfully quiet today, Agata.” Sisi glanced at the maid, handing her a light-yellow gown to pack. “Something on your mind?”

“Majesty.” The maid fidgeted, keeping her gaze downward. “I’ve been hoping to speak with you about something.”

“Yes?” Sisi smiled at the maid’s uncharacteristic shyness. “You know you can talk to me about anything, Agata.”

“I’ve been wanting to mention it for a while now.”

“Then tell me,” Sisi coaxed.

The maid stood quietly, fiddling with the trunk buckle and avoiding Sisi’s look.

“Come now, Aggie. It’s me.” Sisi leaned forward and broke protocol, placing a hand on top of her maid’s. “No need to be shy.”

“I was hoping to tell you about . . . a gentleman.”

Suddenly Agata’s bashfulness became clear. “I see.” Sisi crossed her arms, her head falling to the side. “Go on.”

“He’s Polish, like me. He works in the palace storerooms.”

“And what is this Polish storeroom worker’s name?”

“Feliks.” Agata’s round cheeks plumped into their wide smile as she spoke the name. “His name is Feliks.”

“Feliks.” Sisi repeated the name. “That’s a nice name.”

“Feliks has asked me to marry him,” Agata blurted out.

“He has?” Sisi felt guilty as soon as she’d said it—the shock in her voice had not been subtle. She’d just never imagined her maid carrying on with a man seriously enough to consider marriage. Come to think of it, she’d never imagined her maid doing much of anything outside of cleaning her rooms and tending to her needs.

This realization made Sisi feel embarrassingly foolish. And how selfish she had grown! Why wouldn’t Agata wish to marry? Agata, when not serving in Sisi’s suite, was the leading character in her own life. This woman before her had wishes, and hopes, and desires, just like any of the noblewomen in the palace. “Well, that’s wonderful, Aggie,” Sisi said, sitting up tall. “And would you like to marry Feliks?”

“Aye, Madame.” Again, that sheepish grin took hold of Agata’s features. “He asked me to dance after the Christmas supper. Since then, I’ve known he was sweet on me.”

“Well, this is joyous news, Agata.” Sisi smiled broadly. “I give you my wholehearted blessing—I wish you and Feliks nothing but the best. You will of course both remain at the palace, I hope?”

“Of course, Madame. This is my home.”

“Good.” Sisi startled her maid by taking her hand once more in her own and placing a kiss on it. “Because I don’t know how I’d survive without you. When would you and Feliks like to be married?”

“As soon as it would please Your Majesty to allow it,” Agata answered, her apple cheeks flushing involuntarily.

“Well, in that case, we shouldn’t keep the love-struck pair waiting. How about when we depart for Bad Ischl in a few weeks, you remain behind? You and Feliks may be married while we are away, and enjoy the summer for yourselves. I shall speak with Herr Lobkowitz to ensure that you are installed in a proper apartment fit for a married couple in this palace.”

“Oh, Your Majesty, you are too kind. Thank you!” Agata kissed Sisi’s hand. “But, an entire summer . . . away from you? Without work?”

“Consider it my wedding present to you.”

“Oh, thank you, Madame. Thank you!”

“There’s no need to thank me, Agata. I am just eager to see you happily married—you deserve nothing less.”

Agata was still beaming as she turned back to folding Sisi’s clothes. “I hope we’ll be as happy as you and the emperor are, my lady.”

“Indeed,” Sisi answered, not sure why the remark caused her heart to lurch, just for a moment, the way it did.

It was a joyous summer for Sisi. Arriving at Bad Ischl after the trying year she’d spent was like opening a window out over a warm afternoon and allowing sunshine to pour in, casting out dust and shadow.

The Kaiservilla felt familiar, even though the complex had been renovated and expanded. She and Franz occupied a large suite of rooms with tall windows, their view that of the Alpine peaks rising up behind a stretch of soft green fields. Away from the multitude of courtiers and without the stringent demands on her time, Sisi was largely free to dictate how she filled the long, sunlit days.

Sisi spent happy mornings walking the fields with little Sophie on her back, picking wildflowers and packing picnics to be enjoyed along the shores of the Traun River. Though little Sophie was still spending nights in a nursery attached to her grandmother’s bedroom, the less formal setting of Bad Ischl allowed Sisi to take her meals with her daughter, and she watched in delight as her daughter evolved each day—sometimes appearing with a new tooth, or a new lock of soft auburn hair, or even forming new sounds that Sisi hoped would soon turn into words.

Each afternoon, while little Sophie napped in the Kaiservilla, Sisi set off to explore the mountains atop Diamant, sometimes with Franz beside her. When they were able to shake the trail of the imperial guards, they sought out shaded coverts in the mountains, where they made love and napped and laughed about the funny new habits and quirks their daughter had displayed that morning at breakfast.

Sisi left Bad Ischl that autumn strong, happy, and pregnant.

“This time it will
certainly
be a boy!” Sophie predicted.

It was a frigid New Year’s Day, and Sisi had just returned from mass with the court. Prior to the holy services, Sisi had arranged to have the priest announce to the gathered crowds that they were to pray for their empress, expectant with Franz’s second child.

Franz had known, as well as Agata and Countess Marie, but Sophie had been as shocked by the announcement as the rest of the noble congregation. The look on her mother-in-law’s face had been precisely what Sisi had hoped to see—already the year was off to a promising start.

“But my dear, why did you keep this news from me for so long?” What Sophie truly meant, Sisi, knew, was
how
had she kept this news from her mother-in-law for so long? How had the archduchess’s spies, especially the ever-hovering, always-watching Countess Esterházy, failed to sniff out this most important piece of palace gossip?

It was a feat of which Sisi was truly proud, having concealed her condition for months. She had achieved it with the ingenious help of Agata and Countess Marie.

“There are ways . . .” Marie had suggested, when Sisi had first confided the news to her favorite lady-in-waiting, in addition to her improbable wish that it remain a secret for a while.

“The archduchess will know as soon as you pass your first month without your ordinary cycle. But we could trick her. There are ways.”

“What sort of ways, Marie?” Sisi asked, whispering. Paula and Karoline sat in the antechamber and very well might have had their ears pressed to the keyhole. Countess Esterházy was visiting Sophie for what Sisi referred to as “her daily report.” She had only a brief window in which to discuss this with Marie and Agata. “How can it be done?”

“I’ve heard of people using creative methods. Agata, have you not?” Marie looked at the maid.

“I have, my ladies.” Agata nodded. The maid was, herself, brimming with joyfulness lately, perpetually humming in her newly married state.

Marie continued. “There are ways to play tricks on the eye, I hear. Often used so as to convince someone of a bride’s maidenhead. But I don’t see why we can’t do it this time, as well.”

It seemed duplicitous and highly risky. But since it afforded her several months in which to celebrate the joyous news with just her husband—months without the prying and prodding of her overbearing mother-in-law—Sisi happily ordered her ladies to enact their plan.

How Marie and Agata had managed it, she had not asked. All Sisi knew was that Countess Esterházy and the maids who changed her bedlinens each morning had reported back for the past few months, as the dutiful spies they were, that the empress was most definitely not carrying Franz’s second child.

“Perhaps you don’t own as many palace spies as you think you do,
Mother
,” Sisi answered now in the sunny breakfast room following the New Year’s Day mass. “Care for more coffee?” Sisi took a slow sip of her warm drink, smiling over the top of her cup.

“Spies? Goodness, child, who do you think I am, the tsarina of Russia? I don’t have
spies
.”

“Fine, gossips. Whom you happen to reward with money and favors. Call them whatever you like.” Sisi shrugged, smiling at her husband, who sat opposite her.

“You would paint me as a monster.” Sophie turned her gaze on her son. “Franz, you let your wife assail your mother like this? When all I’ve ever done is help you both?”

“Mother, please. Elisabeth, darling.” Franz sighed, lifting a soft-boiled egg and depositing it into a small silver eggcup. “We’ve just come from mass where we prayed for our child. Can we behave in a civil manner?”

“Never mind. I shall endure Elisabeth’s abuse, since she is clearly not feeling well.” Sophie reached for a roll and sliced herself a glob of butter. “Though I must say, I’m surprised with you as well, Franzi. Why didn’t
you
tell your dear Mamma?”

Franz didn’t reply, didn’t look at either of them as he tapped against the shell of the egg, releasing a rivulet of the bright, runny yolk. His motions were tight, efficient. Perfectly composed.