Je T'aime. - Chapter 27: Chapter 27

After lunch, I met Isabella in my apartments yet again, Eleanore accompanying her. This irritated me mildly but I managed to brush it off. Eleanore waddled into my apartments carrying a stack of clothes and accessories. We went into my bedchamber, and Eleanore dropped the stack with a huff onto my bed. When Isabella saw me, her face lit up. "Well, don't you look wonderful! That's such a pretty bodice. So masculine. So dashing."
I looked down at my scarlet habit. "It's the same one I wore to the court hunt."
"Well, I never saw you in it off of the horse. I love it. And with the hat? Brilliant! I have one, but it's smaller and terribly girly. Held on with pins and whatnot," Isabella began rustling through the stack as Eleanore laid out her wears. "It's part of my travelling gown," She held up a headpiece in a shade of a muted tan, decorated with black lace and small feathers. "I should have stolen one of Joseph's."
"I think I have an extra," I said as I went to my closet. I indeed did. I pulled down the hat, made of black felt with white trim, a white pom-pom hanging from one corner. On the other side there was a matching white cockade. "Here, can you catch it?"
Isabella nodded, and I sent the hat through the air. She placed it on her head, posing in the mirror. "Don't you love it, Eleanore?"
"It's cute," Eleanore replied as she unfolded another skirt.
"Here, let me show you something," I said to the princess. "The soldiers wear theirs off to the side a little," I adjusted the positioning of the hat. "Because when you bring the musket to the shoulder with a straight hat, it hits one of the tricornes," I demonstrated, whacking one of the folds of the hat, knocking it to the ground. "And it falls off."
Isabella laughed, picking up the hat and putting it back on crookedly, at my suggestion. "It's fashion, then! I'll have to show François!"
Eleanore fluffed out a skirt and laid it flat out on the bed. "Here, Isa, try this one." It was a linen skirt in a muted green color with white floral embroidery along the hem.
"Hold on, I have another habit that will match!" I rustled through my closet until I found the waistcoat and matching jacket that I was looking for. The waistcoat was a cream color with vertical green stripes and silver buttons. The jacket was white, green at the facings and the sleeve cuffs. "Here, what do you think? The skirt's a little short, but with your boots, I think you'll be alright."
Isabella held up the jacket to her shoulders, as if she was wearing it. "I love it!" she squealed, already unpinning the gown she was already wearing and throwing it to the ground. "Let me try it on!"
Eleanore and I set Isabella up in her new outfit- leather boots and gloves, too. She sat before my dressing table as Eleanore did up her boots. Twisting the front most sections in order to keep them secure, I tied her hair back with a white ribbon, a waterfall of brown curls running down between her shoulder blades. Isabella, nearly boiling over with anticipation, hurriedly said goodbye to her cousin and pulled me towards the palace's grand hall.
The solid heels of our boots clicked against the grand hall's polished marble floors, echoing against the unimaginably high ceilings. "I feel like a prince," she said with a beaming smile. "All I need is a sword. Then we could fence."
"You'd lose, Prince Isabell...o?"
Isabella raised an eyebrow skeptically. "Really, now?"
"Really. And once you can ride, then we can joust. You'd lose then, too."
Isabella grinned and shook her head. "Jousting? It's the eighteenth century, Christina, act like it."
Isabella and I quickly crossed the courtyard to the stables, briefly bracing the cold before we entered the housing of the imperial riding horses. The carriage horses were kept in another stable near the carriage house on the other side of the complex. The stable was delightfully warm, and the place smelled like hay and wet animals. Isabella's nose wrinkled, but the scent filled me with the excitement of a ride.
From inside of a stall, a distinctive whinny carried out over the air. "Hi, Ares," I said to him, recognizing him by voice alone. "I don't have any food for you."
Isabella looked around, bewildered. "There's so many of them in here."
"Well, the only one we need to worry about is Gladiator. Come on, he's back here. He's calm so he gets to hang out with the mares," As we approached Gladiator's stall, he began to snort and dig at his bedding, tossing his head up and down with anticipation. "Hey, buddy!" I called out to him. "Look, I brought you a new friend."
Isabella reached out and placed her hand on Gladiator's nose. He leaned into her touch, expecting scratches, and Isabella obliged. "Hello, Gladiator."
I grabbed a lead rope and clipped it to his bridle. "Can you open the door? I'm going to get him tacked up."
Isabella opened the stall door and took a generous step back as my horse emerged. She peered over into his water bucket. "He's got some hay floating around in there."
"Oh, that's fine. Sometimes some gets stuck to his lip and it falls in. It's like horsey tea. He'll get new water later tonight," I replied as I tied Gladiator up to be tacked. After his saddle pad was on I heaved a side saddle up onto his back.
I watched Isabella overlook the other horses. "This one's really big," Isabella pointed to a black mare with a white blaze down her nose.
"That's Courage. She's pregnant. Due at the end of the month."
"A brood mare, huh?" She reached forward and scratched Courage's head. "Me too."
Once Gladiator was all tacked, I motioned for Isabella to return to me, and we both headed for the indoor horse ring known as the Spanish Riding School. With a click of my tongue, Gladiator began to walk alongside us. "Atta boy, Glad."
"It's like walking a big puppy!" exclaimed Isabella. "I love the black and gold. Very regal."
"Honestly, he is a big puppy, pretty much," I explained, "Always has been, always will be. I got him when he was three. He's seven now."
"How long do horses live?"
"About twenty-five years or so, but it depends on the breed and the workload."
Isabella and I left the stables and crossed the narrow hallway known as "the staging". This was where everything was set up before a court equestrian performance. Gladiator knew what was happening, and he began to stomp with excitement. Isabella's eyes went wide. "What's he doing?"
"He's just excited. Can you open the doors, please, and shut them behind us?" Isabella did so, revealing the indoor ring. It looked almost like the inside of the palace, although the floor was covered with sand. Balconies surrounded the ring for onlookers. At the very end of the ring was the Imperial Booth, where the Emperor and Empress would sit. Just below the booth was a portrait of my grandfather on horseback, the man who had founded the riding school. "A salute to the late Emperor before we begin," I instructed, and Isabella followed. "Tradition."
"That's not your father, is it?"
"No, my mother's father. "
"Oh. Did you ever meet him?"
"No. He died two years before I was born," Gladiator whinnied, and laughed. "I know, buddy, you want to do the jumps! Your rider isn't ready for jumps quite yet."
Isabella's eyes went wide. "God, no. No jumps. I just have to figure out how to stay on before we even start moving."
"Well, then," I let go of the reins and patted Gladiator's side. "Let's get you up there. Never walk around the backside of the horse. Always around the front. Keep your hand on him and talk to him so that he knows you're there. Horses are prey animals. They're always on alert. Mount from the left side. Makes everything easier somewhat. But ladies ride side saddles, so that alone is a little tricky."
Isabella looked over the saddle. "Yeah... how do I sit in that thing?"
"I'm going to boost you up, and you'll rest the inside of your knee on that leather horn. Then your left foot will sit in the stirrup there. I'm going to help you. Ready?" I kneeled on the ground and folded my hands together, creating a step. "Put your left foot in my hands and take a hop up."
Isabella gathered her skirt in her hand. "Are you sure? Aren't I going to hurt you?"
"Nope. Just step up," Carefully, Isabella placed her foot in my hands. She took a bounce, and with her momentum, I was able to help her up and into the saddle. "There. You're up!"
A wide smile crossed Isabella's face, nearly girlish. "I'm up! Gladiator, I'm up! Reins, now? Reins?"
I moved the reins over Gladiator's head and handed them to her. "Here. We're going to start walking, and I'm going to hold the lead. I'll be with you the whole time. Just give him a little tap and click your tongue," I demonstrated, "Come on, Glad, giddyup."
Gladiator began to walk around the ring, like he had done hundreds of times before. But atop him, Isabella was elated with excitement. So pure was her joy that it brought the same to me. "Can he go faster?"
"You want to go faster?"
"Yeah!"
"Give the reins a little flick, then," Isabella did, and Gladiator worked into a trot. She was sitting relatively well, I noticed, and her hair bounced with the rhythm of my horse's steps. Gladiator was trotting evenly, too- he trusted her. I was pleasantly surprised. Gladiator was my horse, and he worked with Isabella without much intervention from me. "Bravo! You're a natural!"
"You just wait until I tell my father he was wrong! He hates being wrong!" She smiled giddily. "The Duke of Parma, proven wrong! His precious oldest daughter, nineteen, finally on a horse. How old were you?"
"Five," I replied. "I started with miniature ponies, though. Then I started riding Ares. I didn't get Glad until I was fourteen."
"Five! A little equestrian prodigy."
"I suppose."
Isabella's voice echoed against the walls of the ring, so regal and richly decorated as if literal animals didn't take up it several times a day. Gladiator kicked up a little sand with every step, leaving clear marks where he had trotted along. There was sand in my boots, and I could feel it grittily against my stockings. The sand muted the sounds of Gladiator's hooves somewhat and that was also bothersome, but it was easy to clean. Horses didn't have much consciousness about their own bodily functions, I supposed.
The doors to the ring opened. Frightened, I called out, "Halt, Gladiator!" At my command, my horse came to a gentle stop. Isabella turned over her shoulder, her dark queue not unlike the tail of a horse.
My father stood in the doorway and saluted his late father-in-law over the booth. "Hello, girls. What are you two up to?"
"Riding lessons, Your Majesty. Your daughter is a great teacher, I must say," Isabella replied. Independently she tried to get Gladiator to turn towards my father, and when he did, her face flashed for a moment with delight.
"Well, it looks like you girls are having fun, so I won't be a bother. But Mimi, I wanted to ask you something. Did you get a letter from Benedetto? He keeps telling me he sent you one, and that you haven't written back."
Isabella and I looked to each other, and I gave Isabella a look of confusion. Luckily, she copied me. "No?" I shook my head and shrugged. "I haven't gotten any letters from him. It must have gotten lost in transit, I suppose."
My father took a moment to process. "In a time of war, I'm not surprised. Tell me when you get a letter from him. And that miniature- try to find it."
"Will do. Thanks, Papa."
"Have fun, girls."
"Bye, Your Majesty."
As soon as the doors were closed and we were certain that he was gone, Isabella and I broke out into laughter. "God, what an idiot!" I commented.
"You're a tremendous actress," Isabella said.
"Why, thank you," I replied. "Not too bad yourself."
"Maybe I should be an actress instead of being in the cavalry," Isabella pet Gladiator's neck.
"Actresses pretend to be princesses. You get to do it for real."
Isabella rolled her eyes. "Yeah, it's great," she said sarcastically. She looked down at her configuration in the saddle. "Uh...help? Down?"
"Take your leg off of the horn and your foot out of the stirrup. I'll help you from there," She did so, and I opened my arms to her. She put her arms over my shoulders and I held onto her waist, lowering her to the ground. "There. You did really well."
"Thank you. What are you going to do about that miniature?"
"I don't know. Maybe I'll send Marianna's. She's not getting married anyways."
Isabella looked at me puzzled as we walked towards the stables, Gladiator in tow. "Why not? She's very sweet. Very smart, too."
"She's not in the best of health, I'm afraid. Three years ago she got gravely ill with pneumonia and her spine fused. That's what the lump in her back is. No prince will take her."
"Oh, what a shame. What will become of her?"
"A nunnery, perhaps. She'll like that. Quiet, with enough books to last her a lifetime."
"I stayed in a few on my way to Vienna. Very kind ladies, those sisters. Even to strangers."
"I bet they have the best stories to tell. I love Father Lachner, I do, but I'm tired of being around monks all of the time."
"Another place we can go on our trip to Versailles," Isabella beamed. "A convent or two."
"When would we leave? Summer?"
"No, spring! So when we get there, we won't miss an ounce of summer, and we can head home in the fall."
"You have this all planned out, don't you?"
Isabella sighed nostalgically. "It's what I lay in bed dreaming about. You and I, dancing in the Hall of Mirrors. Then to the Opera House, and in the gardens, tea in the Orangerie-"
"If you dream of it, then we'll do it. I promise you that."
Isabella looked over to me with a grin. "So many things we can do, and yet the youth to do it is so brief."
"We'll make the most of it, I'm sure."
"That's all that I could ever ask for."