Je T'aime. - Chapter 41: Chapter 41

As the stars had promised, spring finally came. Through the darkest early mornings came the hints of upcoming sunlight. The earth grew warmer day by day. The greenery of the world seemed to awaken from their yuletide slumber.
And, as the earth continued its constant and turbulent journey around the sun, the Viennese court returned to Schönbrunn Palace.
Though the happiness that sunshine provided me each year was promised, it was bittersweet. Isabella and I still had to live in secrecy, shrouded by the order of her husband. Our interactions in person were limited to elongated glances and polite conversations among the company of others. But the letters, oh, the letters. I doubt that I have poured more of my heart onto paper than I did in those letters. With each stroke of ink new passions were revealed, the marks of devotion stained onto paper. And, of course, these were delivered under oaths of silence. It was recommended to me that I burn the correspondence. I couldn't bring myself to do it, and kept them all in an old shoebox under my bed.
At the end of each season, the apartments that I used to call home looked so barren, like they weren't even mine. I gathered the rest of my trunks and put them by the door for the footmen to take down. Pia had gone long ago; she was setting up my residence at the summer palace. I sighed. Time moved too fast and too slow all at the same time. Approaching the window, I folded my hands behind my back and watched the Vienna skyline. The sky was as blue as it had ever been, the sun shining like she knew that she had been dearly missed. The streets below were filled with carriages and mounted guards. Most of the court had already departed for the yellow house at the edge of the city.
At the street just below my window, I saw footmen open the door to a carriage, everyone surrounding it bowing deeply. I watched my brother, the tails of his coat moving with each proud step, cross the cobblestones and get into the carriage. The door shut behind him. He was...alone. Leaving me puzzled, the carriage lurched forward and merged into Vienna. It seemed that at his departure, all of Hofburg grew eerily silent.
I heard the door behind me open quickly, then shut. Whipping around, I came to see Isabella standing there, her back against the door, her chest rising and falling with breath. "Good, you're still here," she panted, "I thought you left with the others."
"I just watched Joseph get into the carriage without you," I explained.
Isabella beamed. "Even better. He's been exuberantly attached to me within the past few days, I could barely escape him. I told him-"
"The migraines!" I exclaimed, striding across the floor to her.
"Yes!"
"Ah, you clever girl!" I took her face in my hands and pressed a kiss to her temple.
"He's been so dearly affectionate, but never with such tenderness as you. I found myself thinking of you in the most... matrimonial of moments," Her face flushed, and her attention turned to the window, gazing out at the city as I had just done. "He could never compare to what dedication you have shown me. And I miss the days where we were together every day. It strains me terribly to be apart from you. You've read the letters. You know of this, I'm sure."
At her display, my heart twisted with pity. "Yes, I do," I said, standing behind her, looking out of the window over her shoulder. "Damn that husband of yours."
Isabella reprimanded, though through a smile, "That's very unkind."
"I think it's funny that you think I care."
I rested my chin on her shoulder, my fingertips grazing the laces on the front of her bodice. She exhaled shakily. "Do passion and reason clash like this in your heart, too?"
"Yes, but long ago I learned to stop listening to the reasoning," I wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her back into me. I lightly kissed her shoulder, a barrier of fabric between her skin and mine. "Letting the heart lead is the secret to happiness. And if that leads to scandal, than so be it."
"Scandal," Isabella whispered, reaching up and running a piece of my hair between her fingers. "Secrets. Forbiddance. Liaison. Infidelity," she closed her eyes, inhaling deeply. "So wrong, and yet feeling so right. Joseph only," she cleared her throat, "has me because of my womb. But if I close my eyes and imagine that it's your hands that touch me, if it's your lips that kiss me, I can seem to bear the wifely duty well enough."
I tracked my hands up and down her garment-stiffened waistline, running my fingertips over each stitch. "May you not have to imagine," I kissed her collarbone. "I prayed for the day that I could do this again. I prayed for sin, fancy that, Princess, how you tempt me." I moved my lips to her neck, pressing a firm kiss there. The blood of her jugular made the skin warm.
Isabella's lips parted in an exhale, and she buried her fingers in my hair. "Damn my husband. And damn your fiancè. Damn the bishops, damn the priests, damn whoever says that this isn't right." I kissed her neck again, drawing another one of those gasps again.
I smiled against her throat. "That's my girl. My dear girl."
"You cannot tease me so!" Isabella turned around to face me, and pressed her lips firmly to mine. She threw her arms around my neck and most of her weight onto me. I kept my arms around her waist, anchoring her to me. At first she startled me, but then I smelled that vanilla and sandalwood perfume and it was all over. It was like ambrosia.
Our kiss broke for breath. "Fuck," I panted, nearly into her mouth. Her hair was falling into her face. I was staring at her eyes- no, her lips- no, her breasts- no, how rude of me, her eyes!
"If you want them off, darling," Isabella took my hands and placed them on the lacings that closed her francaise over her stomacher. "Then take them off," Though my hands trembled, I swiftly undid the laces and let Isabella's garments fall to the floor. I was like a machine, tugging at strings, ties, and pins until a mound of silk and cotton lay on my floor, both from her and myself. I loosened the last lacing of her stays, taking them off of her. "You're much better at that then your brother. He makes the maid do it."
One shoulder of her chemise slipped down, half revealing one of her breasts like a painting of an ancient goddess in the gallery. "Oh, don't you speak of him."
Isabella tugged on the edge of her chemise and pulled it up over her head. All she wore were her ivory white stockings and her pink ribbon garters, tied in pretty bows just above her knees. I was speechless. Every inch of her was divine. My heart rushed with adoration, maybe lust, whatever it was it didn't matter. She was the most gorgeous thing that I had ever seen in my life. She stepped towards me and I panicked. "Sweet thing," she cooed, running her thumb along my lower lip. "Stop being so reserved, now. I'm quite desperate." It was then that I noticed the rosiness on her cheeks and how tightly she held her thighs.
She looked just like Aphrodite. She looked like divinity and sanctity. And by God, she was all mine. Burying my hand in her hair, I pulled her lips into mine. My other hand grasped at her waistline, my nails leaving red marks across her flesh. She whimpered against my mouth and that only made the passion stronger. I tossed her down against the bed and broke to readjust.
As I came down on top of her, I caught Isabella with a cheesy grin across her face. "What?" I panted, copying her smile. She was so beautiful.
"You're so cute when you're all flustered like that," she pinched the apple of my cheek.
I couldn't help but giggle and roll my eyes sarcastically. "Shut up. Come here." I grasped her hips, pulling her down the bed towards me and kissing her again.
I was woken up by my bed shuffling around me. Slowly I opened my eyes, rubbing the cloudiness of sleep from them. She was laying beside me, her back to me, her torso slowly rising and falling with breath. The sheets were twisted all around us like flies in a spider's web. Carefully I leaned over her, cherishing in the warmth of her naked body. Of our naked bodies.
A section of my hair came down from behind my ear and tickled her nose. She sniffled, and her eyes fluttered open. She groaned, and wiped a trail of drool from her face. "Huh?" she murmured.
"I didn't say anything," I replied, half-laughing.
"What time is it?" Her voice was gravelly from sleep. She rolled over and rubbed her eyes.
"I don't know, maybe-"
Isabella looked out the window. "Oh, God," she said, standing from bed. "How long was I asleep for?" She began to pick up her clothes from the floor and hastily put them on. As she was lacing her stays, she shook her head with pity. "I'm so sorry, my dear."
"What's wrong?" I sat up, holding the blankets over my bare chest.
"My husband. It's been two hours, at least," she threw her petticoat over her head. "He's probably worried sick about me. Again, I'm so sorry. I'd do anything to stay here with you."
"I thought we were damning him."
Isabella smiled. That sweet, sweet smile. "I'd love to, but maybe not right now. Before he sends out the entire regiment of Swiss Guards out looking for me, I have to get to Schönbrunn," she came to the bedside and scooped my face in her hands. "I love you," she kissed me. "I'll see you soon. Duty calls." She gathered a last few things and was gone, the door shutting behind her.
I was left soaking in sunshine and dreams, the touch of her lips still lingering in a phantom tingle on mine. Reluctantly, I stood from bed. If she was going, I was going too.
I glanced in the mirror, trying to tame the blonde tassel that was my hair. Brushing the tangles away from my neck, I noticed a spot where my skin had turned purple.
"Damnit." I found a solid fishu and pinned it closed high on the neck with a brooch. It was ugly, but at least it hid the mark. I would rather die than be presented to my mother like that.
As I left my room my head was aching, but it was a good kind of ache, like feeling lightheaded after dancing all night or having your ears ring after a concert. And my heart was soaring, the sin running through my blood like adrenaline.
My mother could never know. I was dead if she did. I smiled to myself, knowing this was exactly what Joseph aspired to prevent. It only made the passion stronger.
Up yours, big brother.
Somehow I knew he would.