Je T'aime. - Chapter 3: Chapter 3

Liesl and I stepped into the grand ballroom of the palace, its crystal and gold chandeliers glistening in the afternoon sunlight. A servant excused himself as he walked past us holding chairs that would line the ballroom. Another maid was on her hands and knees, scrubbing the floor. Liesl twirled on the patterned wooden floor. "I'm so excited!" she exclaimed. "I haven't been dancing in forever!"
"When was the last time? Easter?" I inquired.
"Longer than that," sighed Liesl. "I'm eager to get out there and dance with the most handsome princes in the Empire." She twirled again, embracing herself to make up for the lack of a partner.
I rolled my eyes. "You'd dance with a handsome peasant if you could."
"As long as he's handsome, I don't care."
Another set of footsteps echoed around the ballroom. "Good afternoon, ladies," I turned to see Isabella. "Is this the ballroom? It's beautiful."
"It is indeed," I replied. "I wanted to thank you for the note you left me. It was very sweet of you."
Isabella smiled warmly. "I'm glad you got it! I asked Prince Albert to find a way to get it into your apartments. He seemed happy to oblige."
"Albert would probably put spiders in my bed if you asked him to. And that wouldn't be the first time he's done that, either." I commented.
Liesl jumped in, "I could hear your scream all the way down the hallway. I thought something was wrong until Albert ran past me giggling."
Isabella chuckled. "Speaking of hallways," she began. "This place has too many of them. I told Joseph I was going to explore a little bit... but I'm afraid I'm lost."
"Do you want me to take you back? We can make a little tour of it," I jumped in without even thinking.
"That would be very kind of you," Isabella said, taking my arm. "We'll see you tonight, Elisabeth, correct?"
Liesl nodded before we left the ballroom. As soon as she was out of earshot, I said to Isabella, "Oh, she's going to kill me."
"Why's that?" Isabella inquired.
"She hates being left out. Liesl, Marianna and I have been a little troupe for as long as I can remember."
Isabella grinned. "That's sweet. I wish I could bond with my little siblings, but they're much too young. They're nine now. I was a closer sibling with my mother's macaw, Malo. He used to swear like a sailor."
"A swearing parrot? How I wish I could see that!"
"He's quite the spectacle, I'll tell you that. He was a gift from my grandfather, the King of France. He felt guilty because my parents' marriage wasn't the happiest. But I'm glad your parents are happy together."
I sighed, not wanting to bring down Isabella's spirits. "Not exactly. My father has had several affairs, and they've been becoming more intense the older my mother gets."
"Is any royalty ever truly, completely happy? I doubt it. It's like William Shakespeare once said, uneasy lies the head that wears a crown," Isabella said before going quiet for a few moments. We walked silently down the hallway together, but somehow it wasn't awkward. We were silently exchanging anxieties and experiences, and being comforted by each other. There were so many stories left unsaid between us, but yet we both understood.
As we were walking, Isabella seemed to take interest in a painting hanging on the wall. She paused and let go of my arm to examine it. "Is this your mother?" she asked, pointing to the subject of the painting, a young woman in a white gown holding an infant before a throng of spectators, their swords in the air.
"It is," I replied. "That's her being crowned the Queen of Hungary."
"Your mother's the Queen of Hungary? I didn't know that."
"She is. And that baby she's holding," I continued, "Is Joseph. He was only a few months old at that time."
Isabella smiled. "He was a very cute baby," she commented.
"Was he?" I inquired. "He doesn't think so. He hates this painting for some reason."
Isabella said with a hum, "We must have different tastes in art, then."
I took Isabella through the hallways, pointing out things and telling stories as we walked and laughed together. The entire time, Isabella kept her arm linked with mine. She was a fantastic storyteller, and of a great wit. When we reached Joseph's chamber, I knocked on the door in the pattern my siblings and I had created as children. Five knocks, to distinguish I was a family member, then three, to say that it was me, the third surviving child. "One moment, Mimi!" I heard Joseph grumble from behind the door. The door opened, revealing Joseph, jacket over his shoulder and waistcoat undone. "What could you possibly want- oh, Isabella! I was wondering where you wandered off to."
"I got a bit lost," Isabella said as she let go of my arm. "Christina was ever-so kind to guide me back."
"I'll see you at the ball tonight, won't I?" I asked.
Isabella smiled warmly. "Of course I will. Would you be so kind to spare a dance for us?"
"I would like nothing more," I replied before the door closed. As soon as I heard the door lock click I took a heavy sigh. How had I been so lucky as to meet a woman like Princess Isabella of Parma?
That night, dozens of servants stood on ladders, reaching over to light hundreds of candles. The orchestra was warming up, drawing their bows across the strings in a jumbled mess of notes. Liesl and I poked our heads around the corner, just like we had done when we were very little girls. "Oh, it's grand!" announced Liesl.
"Shh!" I hissed, pressing a finger to my lips. "Here comes the courtiers, don't let them hear you!"
I pulled Liesl out of the way and back into the drawing room, where we were waiting for the ball to begin. "Girls, no snooping," commented my mother. "You'll teach Antonia bad habits. Find your place in line."
I found my place in line. Before official court entrances we always went in a line of pairs, separated by age. My parents were first, followed by Joseph and his new wife. "Good luck with Charles," I whispered to Liesl.
"Ugh, don't remind me. He steps on my foot every time."
I stood behind Isabella and took Marianna's hand. I was with Liesl before, but the addition of Isabella messed up our sequence. Marianna grinned as she grasped my hand. Isabella turned and whispered,
"That's a lovely gown, Christina. The color really compliments your eyes."
"Thank you," I managed to whisper back before a guard came in and instructed us that it was time for our entrance. To a crescendo from the orchestra, my family and I entered the ballroom. The members of the court were lined up on either side, waiting for their cue to join us. Servants stood near the doors holding trays filled with crystal glasses of liquor. With a note in the music, our line of royals spun around, so that those on the left were now on the right. We bowed and curtsied, signifying that the court could now approach.
Albert approached me, bowing deeply at the waist. "May I have this dance, Your Highness?" He asked, holding out his hand to me.
"Of course," I replied, taking it.
"Go ahead, Ludwig," Albert motioned to a teenaged boy standing behind him. He bowed, following Albert's motions, before Liesl. Liesl blushed, accepted, and took the boy's hand.
"What are you, his wingman?" I asked jokingly as we both began to dance, absently following the steps we had known since we were children.
"Of course," Albert replied. "I've been dancing with an archduchess since I was a lad, haven't I?"
"Let's not forget how many times you've tripped and fallen over dancing with me," I noted.
Albert scoffed. "I'm convinced you don't forget anything," I glanced over at my brother, dancing with Isabella. In her crisp white gown and pearl-dotted hair, she floated with the gracefulness of a swan. Even the folds of her skirt seemed to move at her own will. Albert, noticing my wandering eye, commented, "Her dancing teacher must have been French. But this is no Versailles."
"She shall make it Versailles," I commented before the song ended. Albert bowed to me before he was called off by a flustered fledgling named Ludwig, trying to get back underwing.
I stood next to Marianna on the sidelines, and began fluttering my hand-fan. The ballroom always became stuffy when it was filled with a crowd. I took a glass of wine from a servant and took a gentle sip. Liesl was a blushing mess as she scurried over to us. "He kissed my hand!" she squealed. Marianna and I just rolled our eyes at her. "Did you see him? Oh, we shall be wed within a fortnight!" Liesl cried, dramatically collapsing into my arms in a pretend faint.
"Easy, Liesl, watch the wine!" I said, lifting my sister back onto her feet.
A nearly angelic lady in white came to stand next to me. "Good evening, ladies," said Isabella. She flicked open her hand-fan and ran her hands over her pristine skirts.
Before I could even greet Isabella properly, Marianna jabbed her elbow into my rib. Protecting her mouth with her fan, she hissed, "Oh, no. Look who's arrived."
"Fashionably late, as always," commented Liesl. I turned to see the voluptuous form and rouged cheeks of a woman I knew all too well. She wore a gown of bright blood-like red, the neckline cut low to show the smooth, pale hills of her breasts. Her hair was teased and powdered to the heavens and decorated with ostrich feathers. Her cupid's bow lips were parted slightly, almost like an invitation for someone else's lips to touch them. Her eyes were as wide as a doe's, colored a crisp heavenly blue. My heart filled with rage just looking at her. Liesl grumbled under her breath, "Papa's whore."
Isabella looked upon the devilish woman with the blissful lack of knowledge. "Who's that?" she asked, smartly turning her voice down to a whisper.
"Our father's mistress," explained Marianna. "Wilhelmina, the Princess of Auersperg. Her father was Papa's teacher, and she was Mama's lady-in-waiting before Mama married her off. That never stopped Papa from inviting her into his bedchamber."
"Oh, goodness," Isabella reacted.
"And what's even worse," Liesl added, "She's thirty years his junior. She's Marianna's age."
Isabella wrinkled her nose. "Ew, that's actually really gross."
"You're telling me," replied Marianna.
As if on cue, the scandalous woman approached, her hips swaying back and forth with each step. With a sly smile, she curtsied before Isabella. In her thick, rich voice she said, "You must be Isabella. Welcome to Vienna," Isabella quietly thanked her. "I wish you well, Your Highness," when Wilhelmina rose from her curtsey, she gave my sisters and I side-eye. "Girls," was all she said in recognition before she walked away.
Liesl scowled. "Oh, that wench. I ought to-"
She was interrupted by Mama calling for Isabella. Isabella turned to me before she left. "You still owe me a dance."
"I could never forget," I said. She left me with a smile as she walked over to my mother. From across the room I saw Joseph standing alone. I approached him with a wide, child-like grin. "Hey, Joey," I said cheerily.
"What do you need, Christina?" he asked solemnly, but I could see a smile trying to sneak its way across his face.
"Oh, is that a smile I see?" I teased.
"No," Joseph lied.
"So, how was the marriage bed?" I joked, elbowing my brother jokingly. "Should I be expecting a niece or nephew anytime soon?"
Joseph's cheeks took on a rosy hue. "That is absolutely none of your business," he answered. "And you best be hoping for a nephew."
"Oh, come on," I teased. "Mama was a female heir, and everything turned out fine, didn't it?"
Joseph sighed. "Her ascension started a war, Mimi. I have too many sisters, anyways. This is slowly becoming a women's court. You're lucky you haven't been married off and sent away yet,"
My heart dropped with my brother's words. I dropped my voice down to a bitter whisper. "May I remind you, my dear brother, that you were birthed by an empress, and your heirs will be born by a princess. This is a women's court. The whole world is a women's court."
With that statement, I walked away from my brother and across the ballroom to his wife, who was talking to a man near the orchestra. "And speaking of the devil, here she is!" Isabella said, greeting me with a smile. "Christina, I'd like you to meet Mr. Mozart, one of the most amazing musicians on this side of the Rhine."
"Oh, Your Highness, you're much too kind," said Mr. Mozart before he bowed to me. "Leopold Mozart. My children are off... somewhere," he glanced around the room, trying to locate them.
"Mr. Mozart's children are musicians as well," explained Isabella. "They play even better than I do at such a young age, it's incredible."
"Ah, there he is," said Mr. Mozart, motioning to a young boy who was dancing with Antonia. "That's my boy, Amadeus."
"He's quite the flirt already," I commented.
"Yes, yes," Mr. Mozart nodded. "My daughter Maria- we call her Nannerl- is a little shyer. She's most likely back with the orchestra playing with her dolls. This all is a bit much for her, I hope you understand."
"Indeed. Sometimes it's a bit much for my younger siblings, and it's in their blood," I replied.
Mr. Mozart smiled warmly, glancing over at his boy and Antonia dancing together, although terribly out of rhythm. "Are there any kind of requests you have for us to play, Your Highnesses?"
Isabella and I exchanged glances. "You do owe me a dance, Christina," Isabella said with a wink.
"Do you have any English country dances?" I asked. "I know we're at war with the English, but if they can do anything right it's write a good dance."
Mr. Mozart lugged over a large leather book that was stuffed with pages. "Of course," he said, opening the book for me to look through.
I thumbed carefully through the pages of the old book, the edges ripped, folded, and well-worn. Finally I stopped on a title that I recognized from my dancing lessons in childhood. "This is a good one. The Glory of the Sun."
Mr. Mozart nodded and closed the book. "A great choice." He turned to the orchestra and took his place among the violins.
I took Isabella's hand as the music began to play. "May I have this dance?" I asked.
"Of course you may," she said sweetly. We lined up on the floor and danced, our footsteps as light as air. She twirled around me, her skirts swishing against mine. My fingertips lingered on her waist, and her angelic giggle was like ambrosia to my ears. The brushing touch of her hand against mine was enchanting, her pillow-soft skin like ecstasy. I spun her around one last time before we had to change partners. "You're a much better dancer than Joseph," Isabella whispered before she left me.
For a moment I forgot about time and space as I watched her go, a graceful swan among the clumsy human population. Another hand grasped mine. "You alright?" asked a voice.
I turned to see Albert's expectant face.
"Yeah," I sighed. "I'm alright."
"Hey, don't forget about me and spend all of your time with Isabella," Albert said.
"Oh, I'm sorry, I-" I began.
Albert scoffed. "I'm kidding. I'm intrigued by her too. All of us are. Now, mind your steps. These are new shoes, try not to step on them," I smiled at Albert, but my mind was still thinking of her. I glanced over in her direction, and our eyes locked. Before I could give her any kind of silent message, she was in the arms of her husband. I averted my gaze just as the song stopped. Albert bowed to me. He scowled in the direction of Princess Wilhelmina, who was chatting up my father in the corner through several glasses of wine.
We were approached by a small figure who bowed graciously. I turned to see the short stature of Amadeus Mozart. "Your Highness, may I have this dance?"
I gasped cheerily and gave the child my hand. "Why yes, you may," Amadeus nearly had his hand above his head to reach mine. "Bye, Albert!" I said over my shoulder with a wave as I was led away by the boy.
Albert gasped. "What a little womanizer!"
That night as I entered my apartments, I found another piece of carefully folded paper on my desk. The perfect blue circle of wax greeted me like an old friend.
Dear HRH Archduchess Christina,
I had a wonderful time at the ball with you tonight. I have never found dancing too enjoyable, as by the standards in Madrid, I'm not very good at it. But tonight I was able to just enjoy myself. Thank you for accompanying me. It will be quite a while before I am fully comfortable here, but I know that I can trust you for guidance. And by the way- do you know any other languages? It would help if our letters were ever intercepted. It happens very frequently at Versailles.
Yours Truly,
Princess Isabella of Parma-Austria