Je T'aime. - Chapter 5: Chapter 5

"Jesus Christ, Mimi, not so tight!" Liesl exclaimed as I tugged on the laces of her theatrical costume.
"You're playing Aphrodite, aren't you?" I replied, pinning her gown closed. "I'm giving you an Aphrodite figure."
Leisl adjusted the pink roses and pearls that decorated her hair, which flowed down over her shoulders in frizzy, beachy curls. A shawl of pink silk was wrapped over her shoulders, pinned in place with a scallop shell. "Says the one playing a man."
I glanced down at my men's costume, my legs only being concealed by a flat linen skirt and a tiger pelt tied around my waist. "But I'm quite the dashing man, aren't I?" I posed, flexing my biceps.
Liesl rolled her eyes. "Hey, I'm the most beautiful one around here."
Marianna came to us adjusting her helmet atop a complex Grecian updo. She held a shield with a Medusa emblem, and a sword was sheathed on her belt. "Are you two almost ready?"
"I was born ready," Liesl replied.
Albert poked his head around from behind the burgundy curtain, which was heavy and filled with dust. "Ladies, you have about five minutes. I'm on for the prologue."
My sisters and I crowded around the curtains, taking turns poking our heads out and gazing into the crowd. The faces of the full theatre's audience were hidden in the darkness, their figures only illuminated by the stage lights. It was silent except for the occasional stray cough. "I think the entire court's here. That's not making me nervous at all," whispered Marianna.
"Oh, come on," replied Liesl. We've been doing these plays since the day we got out of diapers."
"That doesn't mean I can't be nervous," Marianna snapped back.
"Shh, you two!" I replied, pressing my index finger to my lips. "Albert's about to speak."
Albert stepped onto the stage, his written lines in his hand. His red coat, decorated with golden thread, glowed in the stage lights. "Ladies and Gentlemen," he began. "Tonight we have a wonderful show for you all. This is The Apple of Discord, a tale from Greece in the ancient times, many centuries ago. We hope you enjoy," after a round of applause, Albert began, "Long ago, in the mountains and valleys of Greece, there lived a king named Priam, who ruled over the land of Troy. He was blessed with many children. But his youngest son, Prince Paris, was different. His mother dreamt that the boy would bring the destruction of Troy. So, with heavy hearts, the King and Queen ordered that their infant son be beheaded at the base of Mount Ida. But the executioner, unable to kill the child, left him on the mountainside and hoped that the elements would kill the young prince. But, miraculously, the prince was found by a shepherd and was raised as his son. The shepherd named the boy Alexander."
Everyone who was playing a god or goddess rushed to the stage. Albert continued, "Meanwhile, in the palaces atop Mount Olympus, a great wedding was taking place between Thetis, a nymph, and Peleus, a mortal, the future parents of Achilles."
The lights focused on my siblings, all seated around the banquet table in the costumes of deities. Charles, as Zeus, stood from his seat from the table. He lifted his glass and declared, "May Peleus and Thetis have a long, happy, fruitful marriage!"
"Hear, hear!" replied the other gods, clinking their glasses in a cheer.
"Zeus, my endearing husband," said Amalia as Hera, taking Zeus's arm. "Was there someone we forgot to invite?"
"I don't believe so," replied the god of the sky.
"On the contrary!" exclaimed a winged goddess cloaked in darkness, portrayed by Johanna. She tossed a golden apple onto the table. "Exclude Eris, the goddess of discord, and watch what happens. This ought to be good." With those words, she faded back into the dark.
Hera picked up the apple and read its marking. "For the fairest. Surely this is for me. Who is more fair than the queen of the gods?"
Liesl, as Aphrodite, stood. "No, I am the goddess of beauty. The apple is for me."
Marianna as Athena stood and reached for the apple as well. "Nothing is fairer than wisdom. The apple is meant for me."
The three goddesses began to argue indecipherably, reaching for the apple. Zeus plucked the apple from Hera's hand.
"Ladies, please. We will go to the shepherd of Mount Ida. He is a notoriously good decision maker."
The curtains closed as the set began to change from the Olympian palace to the mountainside. Albert said to the audience, "So Aphrodite, Athena, and Hera went before Alexander the shepherd."
I sat down on a rock before the curtain opened, flanked by my youngest three siblings, the boys shepherds and Antonia a shepherdess, holding a toy lamb. The goddess approached me. "Good shepherd Alexander, we mean you no harm," stated Athena.
Hera handed me the golden apple. "Give this apple to the fairest of us. If you choose me, I will make you the king of all of Europe and Asia."
Athena declared, "If you choose me, I will make you the most skilled general in all of the land. A battle will never be lost under your command."
Aphrodite smiled. "Give it to me, dear boy, and you shall have the most beautiful woman in the world as your wife."
I carefully placed the apple in the palm of Aphrodite. "You are indeed the fairest."
The curtains closed and our narrator came out again. "The goddesses returned to Olympus, and Alexander remained in his field. Meanwhile, King Priam was holding games for all of the princes of Greece. The prize was to be the finest bull on Mount Ida. Priam sent his finest officer to collect the beast from Alexander, the shepherd of Ida."
The curtains reopened and I sat with Ferdiand, dressed as the bull. Carolina, as the King's officer, came up to us. "Shepherd," began the officer, "Priam, the King of Troy, has requested this bull."
"Why does he need him?" I asked. "He is not for sale."
The officer replied, "He is to be the prize of the Royal Games."
"I will sell you the bull," I began, "If I am allowed to compete in the games myself."
Albert came out again. "King Priam agreed to let the boy compete, and Alexander travelled to Troy. He was put in a sword fight against the eldest son of Priam, Prince Hector of Troy."
Charles came out as Hector. "Alexander, the shepherd of Ida! Fight me if you dare! No other prince has come out of my fights unbloodied!"
I dropped my sword. "I do not wish today to be the day of my death." I exited the stage at a running pace, followed by the laughter of the crowd.
"Coward!" Hector called out after me.
The set changed, and I fell at the feet of a statue of Zeus. "Oh, Zeus, may your temple be my salvation! Protect me from the bloodthirsty prince!"
Josepha emerged, dressed as a prophetess. "Alexander, shepherd of Ida," she began. "What a miracle that you stumbled upon my temple. My name is Cassandra, and I see nothing but truth. Listen to me, dear boy. You are no shepherd, and your name is not Alexander. You are a prince, a prince of Troy. Your name is Paris, and your father is King Priam. Hector, the bloodied gladiator of Troy, is your brother. You were abandoned on the mountainside as a babe and was found by the man you knew as your father, the shepherd Agelaus. Go now to Troy, and take your place in the palace as a prince."
"So, Paris went to Troy and joined his father's palace," said our narrator. "He was given fine rooms, expensive clothes, and all of the luxuries he could ever want," I sat, melancholic, on a chaise, dressed in fine clothing and gazing out of the false set window. "But Paris was lonesome and craved adventure."
Leopold, dressed in the robes of King Priam, entered. "Paris, my dear boy. What seems to be the matter?"
"Oh, Father," I pleaded. "I cannot be cooped up in this palace like a bird in a cage. I wish to go explore the world."
"Very well, my son. I will give you a ship and some of my men for your travels," said the king.
Albert read, "Paris explored Greece for a year before he landed in Sparta, where the great King Menelaus ruled alongside his queen, Helen."
Joseph emerged as the Spartan king, and Isabella as Helen. "Welcome, Prince Paris," said Menelaus. "I do apologize, but I must go to Crete on urgent business. My wife Helen will host you while I am away." with that, Menelaus left.
"Queen Helen was truly the most beautiful woman in the world," read Albert. "Aphrodite had kept her promise. When Helen saw Paris, she fell madly in love with him, and Paris with her."
"Helen," I declared, taking the Spartan queen's hand. "Will you forget about your husband and come back with me to Troy?"
"Yes, I will," Helen agreed. With my arm around her waist, I led her to the edge of the stage.
Menelaus came storming back onto the empty stage. "Helen, my darling, I'm home-" he looked around before drawing his sword. "Prince Paris, that bastard! He kidnapped my wife!" he held his sword high in the air. "This means war! Troy will never forget the wrath of Sparta, and I will have Prince Paris's head! No one shall forget the Trojan War!"
The curtains closed, and the audience exploded with applause. Isabella looked up at me with a delighted smile, my arm still wrapped about her waist. "Oh, that was wonderful!" she exclaimed.
Little Antonia, still dressed in the outfit of a shepherdess, came up to Isabella and I. "You did a really good job," the young Archduchess, clinging to the toy lamb sewed especially for the performance.
Isabella knelt to Antonia's height. "Thank you, Antonia. You did very well, too. Maybe one day you will be a famous actress."
"Mama said I will be a queen, not an actress," replied Antonia innocently.
"Oh," Isabella said softly. "Well, it can always be a hobby," she smiled at the young girl, who soon ran off at the call of her governess. Isabella stood and brushed the dust from her skirts. "The poor girl," she sighed. "Five years old and already knowing her fate as a consort."
"Poor girl? How so?" I inquired.
"She's just a little thing- she'll romanticize her marriage all of her life until it happens. Until she's shipped away to a man and a court she has never known. Then she'll be in for quite the rude awakening when all isn't a fairytale," Isabella said with a sigh. "She needs time to just be a child. Not a pawn on the chess board that is European politics. She is at the mercy of the people, and if she is not a servant to them she shall serve them with her blood. On my voyage here I read many books of history, and trust me, the spilling of a queen's blood has happened time and time again."
"Isabella," I pleaded, instinctively taking her hands. "You shouldn't be so melancholy. You're my sister-in-law. I'm here to support you."
A slight smile crossed Isabella's face. "Thank you. It's just nature that with knowledge comes unhappiness."
Just then, Eleanore poked her head out from behind the curtain. "Isabella, let's get you out of that costume."
"I'll see you soon, Christina," said the Princess. Her hands left mine slowly, skin grazing skin gently as she left me. Our hands lost contact at the fingertips, and suddenly I was struck by the cold emptiness of my palms. My heart ached for her, and my eyes couldn't shift off of her until she disappeared behind the curtain.
Liesl came up to me. "I told you not to lace me up so much. It took three people to get me out of that damned thing-" she paused upon seeing my expression. "Mimi?"
"Hmm?" was all that came from me in response.
"Is something wrong?"
"No, no," I replied. "Just zoned out."
"Oh... alright," Liesl said. "Well, zone back in. Marianna and I are going down to the drawing room if you want to come along."
"Alright, I'll be there in a few moments. As soon as I get this costume off." I went backstage, where I had put my day dress to wear after the play was over. Among the dark shadows of velvet curtains and the jungle of ropes, I found my way to where my things were. It was deathly quiet back there, and smelled of old fabrics and lantern smoke.
Silently I put my proper clothes on in the nearly deafening silence of the theatre. As I was pinning my stomacher in place I heard a voice call out. "Hello? Is anyone there?"
I lifted my head and tried to search through the darkness. I took a few slow steps forward, trying not to trip over the ropes that I knew were cast about on the floor. "I'm here, is everything alright?"
I followed the voice through the maze of curtains and ropes until I saw the dim light of a single candle. As I rounded the corner I finally saw the figure of a woman in her stays and petticoats, fussing with her topmost skirt. She looked up at me and took a deep sigh. "Oh, good. It's you."
"Are you alright, Isabella?" I asked, moving forward to help her.
"This is embarrassing, but I think I'm stuck in my Helen costume skirt. Eleanore went to get a seam ripper. It fit when I put it on, but now it won't budge."
"Here, I'll give you a hand," I assessed the skirt, made of a fine ivory silk taffeta that was wrapped around Isabella's waist that was both fashionable and Grecian. I ran my fingertips along the waistband, trying to look for a way out. The skirt was tight against my fingers, and I could feel it cutting off the blood. "Goodness, this is tight," I said, nearly to myself. "Can you take a really deep breath in and hold it? That may give us some more wiggle room," Isabella inhaled, and the skirt's waistband loosened slightly. Finally I felt the twisted ties of Isabella's skirt. "Ah, there it is. Your ties are twisted."
I managed to get the ties loose, and the skirt dropped to the ground. "Finally," Isabella sighed. "You're very skilled with your fingers. Are you a seamstress?"
"Not a good one," I replied. "But I do play the harp."
Isabella smiled slightly, as if she had done it involuntarily. "The harp? Remind me, I'll have to listen to you play someday."
Eleanore came running down the hall, sliding to a stop on the floor. "Isa, I found a seam- oh. Well, I guess you don't need this."
"Just some twisted ties," I replied. "That's all."
"Ah," Eleanore commented. "I can't believe I missed that. My eyes don't work that well in the dark anyways. Let me tell you, Christina, you've undressed Isabella more than your brother has."
Isabella's face flushed bright red. "ELEANORE!"
Eleanore burst out laughing. 'I'm only kidding... maybe."
"You're embarrassing," Isabella rolled her eyes. "Talking about Joseph like that in front of his sister."
"Oh, Isa. Lighten up. When I'm married you're getting all of the details." Eleanore gave a cheeky wink before exiting the room, her seam ripper gleaming the miniscule amount of light of a single candle.
"I'm sorry about her. She can never seem to keep her mouth shut," Isabella immediately apologized. "I care about her deeply, I do. But sometimes she can be a bit much."
"You're very different, you and her," I commented.
"She's been by my side since we were babes. She's my cousin, after all. My mother adored her; she was like a second daughter to her before we moved to Parma. My mother wanted us to stay friends forever, and if it was her wish, I'll do anything to preserve it. No matter how different Eleanore and I are. I only wish that I could see my mother again. I was trapped in Italy while she lay dying in France."
"Isabella," I began. "I'm so sorry. I can't even imagine how you feel with all of that weight on your shoulders. But you know you have an ally in me, right?"
Isabella glanced up at me with a saddened smile. "You are more of an ally to me than my own husband. But my mother arranged that for me- I'm determined to make that work, too. Thank you, Christina, truly. Thank you." Isabella left me, following her Spanish cousin out of the dark theatre and down the hallway, floating as delicate as a spirit with her uniform steps. Maybe she was Queen Helen of Sparta, the most beautiful princess of earth and heaven, trapped in aristocratic misery. And maybe I was Prince Paris- the one who was to break her free of her royal golden chains.