Je T'aime. - Chapter 43: Chapter 43

"Liesl!" I called out, dashing through the palace, even though I knew she couldn't hear me from halfway across the complex. Somehow it felt better to say her name, to remind me of our desperate destination. "Liesl!"
Isabella was running beside me. Our shoes were clicking on the polished floors, in a kind of rhythm that was reminiscent of a galloping horse; four legs working together, not two. "Where's her apartments?" She asked, panting.
"Upstairs, all of the way on the south side."
"Jesucristo."
We dashed up the stairs, whipping around the corner and nearly crashed into a laundry maid. I pulled Isabella into me and we missed her just barely, my shoulder scraping against the wall. Twisting my waist, I got away with not swiping a prized painting of my deceased great-uncle off of the wall.
Sliding on the floor, Isabella and I careened into Liesl's door. Hurriedly I knocked in our sibling code: one two three four five, one two three. Isabella and I panted, leaning against the doorframe, as we waited for Liesl to come to the door. From within, I heard the slight, narrow sounds of Liesl's unbothered footsteps. "Come on!" I pleaded, motioning to knock again.
As I did, the door opened, revealing Liesl wearing a beaming, oblivious smile. "Well, how nice to see you two!" her brow furrowed, and she pointed to my neck. "What's with the fichu?"
I pleaded, "Nevermind that. Can we come in?"
"Of course! I'll call for some tea," I wasn't really waiting for an invitation. Isabella quickly followed me into Liesl's apartments, shutting the door behind her.
Liesl's apartments were a mess. We had only been at Schönbrunn for less than a day, but there was a rainbow of different colored fabrics scattered across every piece of furniture. Shoes, hats, gloves, fans, and jewels were also out on display. Stepping over a pile of jostled petticoats, I commented, "Damn, Liesl, it's like a grenade went off in here."
"Oh, yes," Liesl laughed nonchalantly, "I was looking for this caraco and of course I found it under everything else," she motioned to her crisp blue jacket. "Made a large mess out of it, though."
A large mess was an understatement. Stepping vicariously over the mounds of possessions, I found my way to her furniture, moving a stack of petticoats before I could sit down. "Now, Liesl-" I tried to explain, but she wasn't listening.
She picked something up from the clutter atop her tea-table. "Aren't these diamonds darling?" she sighed, holding a pair of sparkling earrings up to her ears. "A whole three hundred Thaler, could you believe it?"
Isabella and I made panicked eye contact at the cheery giggling of my sister, who gathered silks and muslins in her arms and moved them onto another pile. "We have to talk to you about something, Liesl," begged Isabella, imploring my sister to sit beside her. "Please."
Liesl collapsed into a chair, a fashion-plate figure in a flurry of azure silk and fluffy tulle trimmings. Her nearly platinum blonde curls were pulled carelessly out of her face, and as she tilted her head one escaped and cascaded down onto her shoulder. "So what did you want to talk to me about?" She rested her chin on the heel of her hand.
Sighing with relief, I finally began, "Well, it's about-"
A door opened. "Oh, yay!" Liesl clapped excitedly, "The tea!" The tea came out on fine Chinese porcelain, which Liesl immediately began arranging between the three of us. As her servant curtsied and left, she commented, "Did you know her brother's a cavalry officer? He's cute, I have to say it." she lifted a brow with implination and bit her lower lip. "One lump or two, Isabella?"
"One," Isabella blurted, "But really, we must speak to you. Christina and I were in the audience of the Empress this morning-"
Liesl rolled her eyes. "Oh, how I pity you. I would rather die."
Isabella brushed off the comment and continued. "The topic of marriage was brought about, and that there is an open contract in need of a bride. The Duke of Chablais demands an Archduchess for a bride."
Liesl tilted her head with curiosity. "I thought he wanted to marry you, Mimi," she took a delicate sip of her tea.
"He did," I explained, "Before I was engaged to Albert. Papa still wants me to marry him, but Mama has promised me that she won't let that happen. So as an agreement, Mama is willing to put forth one of her other daughters, meaning you."
Liesl's expression barely changed. Her eyes widened ever-so slightly and she put down her teacup, but that was about it. "Oh," she said, "Well, it was inevitable. I suppose I'll be a duchess, then. What's the difference, besides the lack of 'arch'?"
I expected Liesl to protest. She would in any other circumstance, so what did this mean? "What?"
Liesl glanced at Isabella. "What could a princess expect? It's our future to be the subject of marriage to strangers in a whole other country. You're the lucky one, Mimi. As soon as I heard Mama was letting you marry for love I knew my fate was sealed. I knew it. One daughter's happiness is another's misfortune. But I'll take it with grace. Me and- what's his name again?"
"Benedetto."
"That's it, thank you- I'll make the best out of the situation, and worst case scenario I can always poison his tea," raising her eyebrows, she took a long, hearty sip from her cup. "I mean, what, I see him once a day? If that?"
Liesl's eyes were locked on Isabella and the Crown Princess shuffled awkwardly in her seat. "Why are you looking at me? I'm not poisoning my husband's tea."
Liesl scoffed and rolled her eyes. "We all know that you didn't choose to come here. You left sunny Italy and Versailles to come to smelly, cloudy Austria, with our schnitzels and strudels? I don't know what's worse, having to put up with Vienna or Joseph. He can be such a little bitch! You're so dutiful, and I admire that, but if I were in your shoes, God! I'd turn around and high-tail it at my first opportunity. You keep up a good act, you really do."
Isabella seemed aghast at Liesl's comments. God knows I was. It took me a few moments to process them before Isabella even opened her mouth to speak. "I..." she stalled, "Austria isn't all that bad. And neither is Joseph, or this court. I didn't choose to be here but I'm not unhappy. But I regret not putting myself forward and at least partially arranging my own destiny. Don't make my mistake."
Liesl laughed to herself. I glanced at Isabella, who looked like she was on the verge of tears. I reached under the table and grasped her hand, entangling her fingers with mine. "Are you kidding?" My sister leaned forward, resting her forearms atop the table. "Mimi only had any say because she's Mama's little favorite. If it wasn't her, or if it was any other mother, her involvement wouldn't have meant anything. Isabella, we're women. People listen to us but they don't hear us. Nobody takes what we say seriously, time and time again. All of our ideas fall on deaf ears. It's seventeen-hundred and sixty-one, the year of our Lord," she opened her palms to the sky sarcastically, "And nobody gives a damn what a woman has to say."
"But you can't just give up!" I butted in. "You're just going to let everyone just walk right over you?"
Liesl sighed. "Look. I don't really have a choice. If Mama and Papa agree that I should marry him, then I'm marrying him. It's final at that point. And I'll do my royal duty with my chin up. If not me, then who? Benedetto's like a stale pastry. He'll just get passed around and around until someone takes him out of pity."
"But why must it be you?"
"Because nobody else will."
At that moment I could have embraced or strangled my little sister. Perhaps both. Why did she dedicate herself to such unhappiness? At that point she may as well be sent to the nunnery.
I didn't know what I expected. Did I want her to be furious, to storm into Mama's office and demand she be married to someone else? To fall at Papa's feet as he toured the Orangerie, begging for his mercy? Nevertheless I didn't expect Liesl to just take whatever nonsensical plot for her future that was thrown at her. Eventually the conversation naturally moved to other topics but I couldn't seem to shake Liesl's compliance. Compliant was usually the last word I would use to describe Archduchess Maria Elisabeth.
When our cups were drained and the conversation extinguished, Isabella and I took our leave, continuing down the hall in silence. It seemed as if our own minds were brewing with thought.
Isabella and I walked side by side, our skirts brushing against each other every so often. Isabella was twiddling her fingers absently, every so often glancing up at an oil painting or at a bird flying outside of the window. "Oh my God," I finally sighed.
"I just..." Isabella whispered in response, her voice hinting a streak of disappointment. "I don't understand why she's being so submissive. Out of everyone she was the last one I expected to be like that."
"Neither did I, but perhaps you can't expect anything out of anyone."
Isabella blurted, "Did your father talk to her? He may have convinced her that she had to marry him."
"I doubt that my father would do that, and Liesl is not easily swayed, especially by my father's opinion. In fact, I would expect her to do the opposite of what he suggests."
"Should we talk to him?"
"We can try. He should be at the palace opening tomorrow afternoon. Giving tours of his Orangerie, most likely."
Isabella smiled warmly. "An Orangerie. There's one at Versailles. The smell is wonderful, isn't it? I would sit in there for hours and hours just trying to get the smell to attach to my clothes and hair. It always did on my Mama."
"With all that you say about her, I wish I could have met her."
Isabella turned to me, smiling, but with a tinge of sadness biting at the edge of her expression. "I wish you could have. She would have adored you. She would have been elated that I could find a friend and confidant like you. I'm sure you're everything she would have wanted for me."
If I allowed myself I could have burst into tears at the dreamy reminisce that floated on Isabella's voice, remembering a tender mother long gone. "What was her name?"
Isabella grinned. "Louise-Élisabeth, Madame Royale," she said breathily, "But everyone called her Babette, my grandfather most frequently," she looped her arm with mine, a spring added to her step. "I'm taking you to France."
"My French leaves much to be desired. It's certainly not worthy of Versailles," I protested.
Isabella held my arm tighter, causing my shoulder to brush against hers as we walked. "Oh, I doubt that. Say something in French."
"Uh..." I hesitated, "Je m'appelle Christina,"
"Christine, en français."
"Et je viens d'Autriche."
"Archiduchesse d'Autriche."
Isabella laughed. "Oui! Très bon!"
I felt my face blush at Isabella's praise. "I'll have to brush up on my Italian if we have to attend a wedding in Turin."
Isabella's smile could have illuminated the entire palace. "Well, I can tutor you in that, too. Then I can take you to Parma and you can meet Papa, Ferdinando, and Luisa. God, Luisa's probably grown so big by now. If Liesl ever leaves Vienna she's going to realize how much she'll miss home, no matter how lovely your new home is."
Isabella's skirts swayed with French precision, her tongue laced with Spanish pronunciation on her German words, and her skin kissed by Italian sunshine. I pressed my lips to her temple. "Je t'aime."