Je T'aime. - Chapter 20: Chapter 20

A sweet dusting of snow fell over Vienna like powdered sugar over a cake. Fires crackled in each of the palace's many fireplaces, fighting off the wintry chill with dry, hot air and orange light. Garlands of evergreens hung over the doorways, and each floral vase was filled with bundles of holly bush and mistletoe. The season leading up to Christmas was nearly constantly spent at Mass, at my mother's discretion, but the Eve of Saint Nicholas at least was a half-secular amusement for the Imperial Family. Pia told me that it was somewhat close to what the common folk did, and that satisfied me at least a little.
The court receives their gifts, some kind of easily dispensable object like a pocketwatch or champagne set, individually and without much fanfare. But for my siblings and I, we locked ourselves in Hofburg's East Hall and had a sweet, though rather brief, gift-giving. The younger children left their shoes out on the windowsill for Saint Nicholas to come with sweets and trinkets, and in the weeks leading up to Nikolas-Nacht they were the most angelic children, mostly in fear of Krampus and his birch wood switches.
Antonia and Carolina nearly dragged me into the East Hall, excitedly giggling as they ran towards my parents seated beside a large stack of gifts. My mother nodded, and the younger children grabbed their candy-filled shoes on the windowsill with much delight. With mouths full of candy, they collapsed onto their bottoms on the floor, looking up at my parents expectantly. Marianna, Joseph, Isabella, Liesl, Charles, Amalia, and Leopold sat on chairs behind the gaggle of children, while Johanna, Josepha, Carolina, Ferdinand, Antonia, and Maximilian sat on the floor.
I took a chair between Isabella and Liesl. Isabella leaned to whisper to me. "Look at them, they're the sweetest."
"Aren't they?" I replied.
Isabella glanced behind the chairs and out the window. "Oh, the snow," she sighed. "You'll have to take me out to play in it later."
"Just wait until it's deeper," I said, "That's more fun."
There was a rustling of paper as the gifts were passed out. "Patience," said my mother to the children at her feet. "Let Isabella open hers first."
A box wrapped in blue paper was set in Isabella's lap. Joseph placed an arm over the back of his wife's chair as she carefully unwrapped the paper and opened the box. Inside was a bundle of tissue paper; she undid that with great attention. She pulled off the last piece of paper and gasped. "Oh, Your Majesty, you shouldn't have!"
Isabella held up a golden tiara, which sparkled in the light. Its circlet was decorated with a row of pearls, while its shimmering peaks were each topped with a sapphire. "This tiara was a wedding present made for Crown Princess Maria Anna of Bavaria in 1600. I wore it when I was Crown Princess, and since that is your role now, I'm passing it on to you. For official occasions and whatnot."
"My God, it's beautiful," Isabella said, nearly in a whisper of amazement.
Joseph turned to a servant standing nearby. "Fetch her a mirror," it was not long before the servant came back and held a mirror before the Princess. Joseph took the tiara and stood behind his wife, coronating her and adjusting her hair around it. "I think it's quite lovely, don't you?"
Isabella cupped her hands over her mouth in delight. "I love it. Thank you, Your Majesty," she repeated.
Wearing her tiara, Isabella looked now more than ever like the stunning image of an Empress Consort. Her side profile, in her indigo gown and her sapphire crown, looked straight off of an official coin. My heart swelled with pride. I was lucky to know such a woman.
Maximilian stood with his gift and came to Isabella. "Izzy up," he cooed. Isabella lifted him and balanced him on her knee, again brushing a wild blonde curl from his eyes. For a moment I thought I could see into the future: Empress Isabella, with her son the heir on her lap.
The children received the go-ahead to begin opening their gifts. There was a great rustling of paper, and then cries of joy as the kids unveiled their presents. Carolina and Antonia received new dolls, and Ferdinand got a set of toy soldiers. Isabella moved to the floor to help Max unwrap his gift, which was his own rocking horse. He rode his wooden steed with a piece of candy in his mouth, rocking back and forth with his sugary treat. Johanna, at her request, got a monogrammed stationery set, which she had been bothering my mother about for ages. Josepha received a new gown in a brilliant purple with matching slippers.
My present, though not as grand as Isabella's, was a set of new paints imported from France. I was happy, though- they were from my favorite paint-maker and I was beginning to run low. I gazed over at Isabella again, and then down at my paints. What a lovely picture she would make.
That night, the sun set around five in the evening, so our six o' clock Mass at the Klosterneuburg, the largest monastery in the Vienna area, was shroud in darkness and candlelight. The snow was still falling, but in large cotton clumps that landed with a plop on the cobblestones. The people were celebrating too; lights shone from every window, and the air smelled like roasted hams and fruitcakes. The monastery itself was a castle of the building, established in the thirteenth century, standing tall during all that the city had endured. Around the tall wooden doors was a Christkindlmart, a market of booths with both treats and wares being sold. There were carolers in the streets, and the smell of roasting chestnuts drifted in the air. The world was frigid, but somehow sweet with winter chill.
Isabella descended from her carriage, all wrapped up in furs and wool. With a pink nose, she ran up to me and interlocked her arm with mine. "Christina!" she cried out, snowflakes settling on the lace mantilla that was pinned in her hair. "Isn't this wonderful? These are the biggest snowflakes I've ever seen in my life!"
"You just wait until the snow is up to your knees. I'd say January."
Isabella smiled gleefully. "I can't wait."
Together, we followed the Imperial family into the monastery. The interior of the place was truly an amazing space. The sanctuary was narrow by palace standards, but was high like the grandest of halls. The pillars that held everything up were made of solid reddish marble, shined so perfectly that one could nearly see their reflection in it. The floor was a marching rust and white marble checker. Everything that could be was plated with gold. On the ceiling, paintings of saints, angels and cherubs promised the grandest of Heavens. The pews were of a dark mahogany, the seats of red velvet. On the end of each pew was a candelabra, illuminating the entire church in shimmering amber light. The monks of the monastery wandered around, lighting candles, taking coats and hats, or escorting churchgoers to their seats. Together they all sang a low-pitched chant perfectly, as if they had known it since the day they were born.
Domine Sancte beati sumus, et gloriam,
In hoc festo.
Nicolaus Ave fidelium ore pendeamus,
Modo ex Apostolo.
Sicut adiuvisti et eis qui venisti de circuitu;
Sit autem sentio conspectu tuo,
Nostri commitment ut idem
Amor answering appellatione.
We sat in the pews, which creaked with our weight as we sat. As usual on such important Catholic holidays, my mother was silent, clutching her rosaries for dear life and whispering some kind of prayer. Isabella leaned to whisper to me. "Saint Nicholas day was never big in Madrid," she said. "Why is it such an event here?"
"Much of it is rooted in the culture of the Germanic pagans long ago," I explained. "Somehow it managed to stick. The shoes on the window, Krampus, all of that."
"Krampus?"
My eyes widened. "You don't know about Krampus?"
"No."
I smiled, realizing how silly this would sound to an outsider. "Krampus is a Christmas demon. On Nikolas-Nacht, when all of the children are sound asleep in bed, Saint Nicholas and Krampus visit the home of each child. Nicholas leaves the good children with candy and sweets, while Krampus gives the naughty children a switching. And the naughtiest children, he eats!" I held out my hands like vicious claws.
Isabella laughed. "Well, that's one way to get the children to behave!"
The Saint Nicholas service was always long and tiring, without the excitement of a court-wide Christmas Mass. For the most of it, I just glanced out of the window at the gently falling snow. When we finally were released from mass, I called out to my mother. "Mama?"
My mother turned as she stuffed her rosary into her pocket. "Yes, dear?"
"Can I take Isabella to see the Christkindlmarkt? Please, I want her to try some candied pecans, and apple punch, and everything! Her first Vienna Christmas!"
Though she kept a stern demeanor, a smile hinted at the edge of my mother's lips. "Fine, fine. Go. Lieutenant Baptiste, go with them."
The deep, heavily French voice of Isabella's guard came from behind us. "Yes, Your Majesty."
Isabella and I looked to each other and squealed with childlike excitement. We wrapped ourselves up in our cloaks and muffs, and François, carrying his musket at arms, walked in perfect step alongside us. The air smelled like cinnamon and caramel, and giggling children ran in circles all around us, shouting something about Krampus. The square in front of the church was so filled with booths that it almost looked like a city in itself. Happy people with pink cheeks and frosty shoulders walked past us, all absorbed in the moment of happiness in their own lives. A teenaged choir sat on the edge of a drained fountain, singing carols beautifully through the night.
Isabella looked around, her eyes sparkling with wonder. "I love it!" she said. "What booth do we go to first?"
"You need to try the apple punch. Come on!" I said, leading towards the booth that contained a steaming vat of punch, being dedicatedly stirred over the fire. François dutifully followed us, his metals clinking as he walked. "Two, please," I said as I put my money down on the counter. I remembered perfectly, as I had done this every year- two Thaler per cup.
The apple punch came in a ceramic mug, and so everyone who purchased one had to drink it by the booth so that they could return their mug. Isabella wrapped her hands around the mug tightly, savoring the heat. She took a sip of the beverage, which had a concoction of apple pulp, cinnamon shavings, and cloves floating on the top. "Oh, it's delicious," Isabella commented. "We never had any of this in Madrid, or in Parma."
"I heard it's gaining popularity in the American colonies as well," I informed. "In some areas there are great numbers of Germanic peoples."
Isabella replied, "The Spanish colonies brought us chocolate, which I think is a good enough reason to found any colony. That and the silver."
"Of course. Our empire just spreads outwards by land, not sea."
The sound of gleeful bells rang out through the air as a wonder-eyed Isabella carried along beside me, munching on a paper cone of candied pecans, at my recommendation. Behind us, glaring at any passerby over the age of ten, was the steady-shouldered Francois. Isabella and I continued down to the section of the market where the Christkindl and other knick-knacks were being sold. Isabella held a pecan over her shoulder. "François? Pecan?"
"No thank you, Your Highness."
"Oh, come on!" Isabella groaned. "Where's your Christmas spirit?"
François steadfastly explained, "I'm not supposed to enjoy festivities while on duty, Madame."
"Take it," Isabella insisted. "If you get crap from anyone you tell them the Crown Princess demanded upon it."
"Yes, Madame," François replied, taking the nut from Isabella's hand.
Isabella and I approached a Christkindl booth. Isabella picked up one of the figures on display, a tiny clay baby wrapped in a bit of cloth and tucked into a manger. She analyzed it carefully with gentle hands, admiring the craftsmanship. "How much are they?" she called out to the seller, already reaching into her pockets for coins.
"One Thaler fifty, Miss," replied the seller, who barely looked up.
"I'll take it," Isabella said as she traded her coins for the trinket. "Thank you!"
She was about to continue through the market when François said, "We have to get back to the carriages."
"Aww, François, you're a killjoy," noting François's silence, she continued, "I'm just teasing you."
Isabella and I clambered into the last carriage, which also happened to contain Marianna and Liesl. "Goodness, Isabella, your cheeks are bright red!" Marianna commented.
Isabella placed her palms on her cheeks and grinned. "I know! It's so cold out there! The snow, the drinks, the carols," she sighed. "It's all so wonderful. I think I like Vienna Christmas more than any other Christmas."
"I'm glad," Liesl said. "Did Christina introduce you well?"
"She most certainly did," Isabella turned to me with a bright smile. "And I can't thank you enough."