The Accidental Empress Read online

  Barking out a quick order to Hans the driver, a mustached guard now approached the coach, eyes darting between the three road-weary women who sat on the other side of its window. “May I?” He signaled with a gloved hand that he wished to open the carriage door. Ludovika nodded.

  “Good day.” Sisi’s mother sat up as the guard opened the door, her chin angling upward. Sisi marveled at the air of authority her mother had so suddenly summoned, as if the anxiety of the preceding days and hours had been merely a bothersome cloak that the duchess now shrugged off.

  “I am Her Majesty Duchess Ludovika of Bavaria, from the House of Wittelsbach and sister of the Archduchess of Austria, Sophie of the House of Habsburg-Lorraine. My two daughters, Their Majesties the Duchesses of Bavaria, accompany me on the special invitation from His Imperial Highness, Emperor Franz Joseph, and his mother, the Archduchess Sophie.”

  “Your Grace.” The young soldier saluted, clicking his heels together. “We have been expecting you.”

  “If you please.” Her mother raised a hand, as if struck by an idea. “Has our other coach arrived before us?”

  The guard nodded. “Yes. Less than an hour ago, Madame.”

  “Please direct us to it,” Ludovika said, her tone brightening a bit as she looked to Sisi and Helene. “It carries our trunks, and we must change before we enter the palace.”

  The guard raised a gloved hand, his tone courteous but unmoving. “My apologies, Duchess Ludovika. We have been instructed to direct you immediately into the front hall, where Her Majesty the Archduchess Sophie awaits your arrival.” With that, he looked at the driver, a tight nod of his chin, as he stepped back. “Drive on!”

  Ludovika scowled, whispering to her daughters as the door shut and the carriage rolled forward onto the property, “I tried.”

  The horses’ hooves clopped heavily across the cobblestoned forecourt as the walls of the castle complex absorbed the coach, pulling them into a cold hug of limestone and brick. Though the property was spacious enough, Sisi did note with mild surprise that the home was not any larger than Possenhofen Castle.

  Regardless, it was not the size of the structure that mattered. Sisi sensed, when rolling through the front gate, the imperial presence. The numerous and intangible indices of Franz Joseph’s power hung over the property like a mist or shadow that loomed all around—difficult to touch or point to, yet impossible to deny. The flags of Franz Joseph’s many kingdoms colored the front wall: Austria, Hungary, Croatia, Bohemia, Venetia, Lombardy, Galicia. Clusters of guardsmen, rigid in their white and red uniforms, marched determinedly on various errands across the grounds. It felt more like a miniature city than one man’s home. Servants hustled, dogs barked, secretaries and valets hurried around the yard as they administered their tasks. A general air of busyness filled the forecourt and its surrounding buildings, reminding the visitor that this remote mountain town was now suddenly the heart of the empire—and all because one person was in residence.

  And they, too, were here on the emperor’s business. The ruler of all of this had requested that a young girl and her family come to him, traversing grueling roads from Bavaria to Bad Ischl, prepared to wed a stranger. And they had obeyed. Surely not because that shy, rust-haired boy from years earlier was powerful enough to impose a fate on any of them, but because the position he now occupied imbued him with an almost otherworldly authority. And Helene, his bride, would now possess that same, deified status. The magnitude of her sister’s new role suddenly overwhelmed Sisi, and she fell silent, cowed before this daunting specter of imperial authority.

  The horses heeled and the carriage stopped, signaling the end of their journey and the beginning of their work. “All right girls, here we are.” The duchess seemed to have shaken her burdensome migraine, for now she sat tall and spoke in short, clipped commands. “You heard the guard—Sophie . . . the Archduchess . . . is waiting for us.” Ludovika stepped out of the carriage. Seeing that her daughters did not follow, she paused. “Come now. Helene?”

  Helene remained seated. “Mother, I can’t . . .”

  “But you must. Come now.”

  Helene shook her head, the rest of her body unmoving.

  “You are here to see your cousin, Franz, and your Aunt Sophie,” the duchess replied with an impatient sigh. “Think of it that way.”

  “Yes, my cousin and aunt who happen to be the emperor and the archduchess of Austria.”

  The duchess glanced around, ensuring that no one listened, before she leaned close and whispered into the coach. “Helene, they chose you. You are their guest, responding to their invitation. You have more right to be here than any other person inside this complex.”

  Helene closed her eyes, shaking her head once from side to side. The most timid, most modest of protests.

  “Helene, we’ve made it this far. You will go through with this.” The duchess looked once more over her shoulder, offering a curt smile to a secretary who passed, his suit jacket emblazoned with a golden crest of a double-headed eagle. Sisi guessed this to be the Habsburg family crest.

  “Néné.” Sisi took her sister’s hand in her own. “We’ll be together.”

  Helene latched on with cold fingers, her grip stronger than usual. “Don’t leave me, Sisi.”

  “I won’t.” Sisi squeezed her hand back, an unspoken communication. “Now, let’s go meet your fiancé, Néné.”

  “That’s another thing, girls.” Ludovika leaned close, whispering so that a passing guard wouldn’t overhear. “No more of this Néné and Sisi. From now on, you are Helene and Elisabeth—daughters of the Bavarian Duke Maximilian, House of Wittelsbach.”

  “Really, Mamma?” Sisi asked, stepping out of the carriage and pulling her sister with her. “Even when we are alone? It seems a bit—”

  “Yes, even when you are alone, Elisabeth,” Ludovika hissed. But even more stinging than her tone was the look she fixed on her younger daughter. “And you will not shame our house by arguing with your superiors, do you understand?” Ludovika patted her skirt with a jerky, impatient hand, making a futile attempt to undo days-old wrinkles. For her part, Sisi was cowed to silence, and offered nothing more than a feeble nod.

  “You are now two young duchesses at the imperial court, and you shall act accordingly. That means no more childish names.” The duchess said this with a stern, clipped tone, but Sisi thought her mother’s eyes betrayed a hint of sadness. “And it means no more whining, Helene. And no more answering back, Elisabeth, especially not to your Aunt Sophie. Am I clear?”

  “Yes, Mamma,” they answered in unison.

  “Good,” Ludovika nodded. “Now, let’s not keep the emperor waiting. I’m sure he is quite anxious to meet his bride.”

  The guard at the front shut the door behind them, closing them into a cool, high-ceilinged hall. Sisi squinted, her eyes slow to adjust to the darkness of the room after the stark sunlight of the outer courtyard. The din of the yards was now blocked by the thick walls of the palace, and they stood in silence for several moments, a hesitant trio wondering how to proceed.

  A wigged secretary clipped forward and startled Sisi as his voice rang out. “Duchess Ludovika,” he said, bowing. “Please, if you and your daughters would be so gracious as to follow me?”

  Without a word, the trio fell in line behind the secretary as he led them across the hall. They moved next into what appeared to be a receiving area, its cream-colored walls bare except for the same array of flags that Sisi had seen outside—the many kingdoms of Franz Joseph’s realm.

  They cleared this room by way of a high-ceilinged doorway and immediately stepped into a much smaller room. This one was flooded with light, walled in by floor-to-ceiling windows, and Sisi blinked, her eyes having already adjusted to the dark, cool hallway.

  “Your Majesty, Archduchess Sophie, may I present to you Her Royal Highness, the Duchess Ludovika Wilhelmine, wife of Duke Maximilian of Bavaria from the House of Wittelsbach.”

  Sisi’s eyes followed the direction i
n which this secretary projected his voice, and she noticed, for the first time, the seated figure of her aunt. Sophie was tucked in at a small table, a man on each side. Their faces were lit by the splash of afternoon sunshine that seeped in through the French doors and floor-to-ceiling windows. The male companions, one quite young, the other quite old, must have been a military officer and a minister, Sisi guessed. There were others in the room, too. Sisi’s eyes moved next to the corner where, removed from the seated party, stood a gray-haired woman, her complexion chalky and her face pinched. Unlike the standing footmen sprinkled around the room, wigged men who kept their eyes diverted and expressionless, this gray-haired woman studied the three Bavarian newcomers unashamedly, rendering her verdict with a tight jaw and a mistrustful gaze. Who was she? Sisi wondered.

  Sisi’s eyes turned back toward her aunt, who looked on the newly arrived trio with an appraising expression, one of curiosity, but not delight. At the secretary’s introduction, Ludovika stepped forward, fanning her black skirt wide and curtsying low with a grace that surprised Sisi.

  “And her daughters.” The secretary, seemingly unsure of which girl was which, waved them forward simultaneously. “Their Royal Highnesses, Helene Caroline Therese and Elisabeth Amalie Eugenie, Duchesses in Bavaria, of the House of Wittelsbach.” The two girls followed the example set by their mother and curtsied in unison. Sisi found it odd, even slightly entertaining, to hear herself referred to with such a lofty string of words.

  An almost imperceptible flicker of Sophie’s forefinger signified that they were to enter the room and approach her at the table. With the duchess leading, the three of them crossed the threshold and moved toward where Sophie sat.

  “Slowly, girls,” Ludovika whispered between Helene and Sisi. “Heads down,” she reminded them.

  But Sisi could not resist the temptation to steal a glance upward at the figure she approached. The archduchess was as Sisi remembered her: a more sharp-featured version of her mother. Like Ludovika, Sophie wore her hair so that her face was framed by tight ringlets—light brown laced with wisps of gray—that met in a low bun at the nape of her head.

  Sophie’s salmon-colored gown draped over a broad crinoline hoopskirt; emerald earrings danced beside her rouged cheeks as she jerked her head tightly from side to side, eyeing each visitor in turn. She had narrow eyes that seemed more probing and less inclined to smile than Ludovika’s.

  Sophie was to speak first, according to Ludovika, but the woman did not appear in any rush to break the silence, so that the only sound in the room was the coordinated clicking of the visitors’ heels as they crossed the marble floor. The three of them paused several feet before their hostess. Sisi was close enough now that she could smell Sophie’s perfume, a potent mixture of sweet floral scents. Up close, Sophie was wider than Ludovika in the bosom and hips, most likely as a result of the imperial banquets she now enjoyed with her son. In fact, the table at which she sat was cluttered with teapots, biscuits, miniature cakes, and platters of nuts and fruit. It struck Sisi how hungry she was after their hours on the road.

  A small cream-colored dog sat in the imperial mother’s lap, haughtily observing the three silent visitors from his perch before the tea service. Sophie’s ringed fingers stroked the pet’s thick fur, and at one point she picked up the small animal to whisper an inaudible phrase of affection into its pointed ear.

  Ludovika cleared her throat, and Sophie turned from her tiny dog to look at them once more. “So, the Bavarians have arrived.” As this statement left little opening for a reply, the three visitors remained silent.

  “What is this?” Sophie continued, “Ludovika, are you so interested in my palace floors that you won’t even look up at your old sister?”

  At this remark, Ludovika lifted her eyes and smiled at her sister. “Hello, Sophie. It’s good to see you.”

  “Hello, Ludie. It’s good to see you, too. I was beginning to think you didn’t recognize me, these imperial cooks have caused me to get so round.”

  And with that, Ludovika let out a laugh, gliding toward her sister’s chair and reaching forward in a greeting that was half a bow, half a hug. The two women embraced, and the display of affection served to noticeably slacken Sisi’s frayed nerves; Sisi hoped Helene found the same effect.

  Would this be her and Helene someday? Sisi wondered. Sisters meeting like strangers after decades of prolonged separation? Babies, and husbands, and different homelands pulling them apart as if they had never shared a bed and nighttime whispers and a childhood home? No, Sisi decided. Helene would never become remote. She’d never be the type to use her authority and power as a perch from which to look down upon her former life. And Sisi would never let so much time lapse without the two of them seeing one another.

  Sisi used the distraction of the reunion to study her surroundings further. As she’d noticed before, Sophie was flanked by two men, both of whom had stood upon the entrance of the ladies. On one side stood the older of the two, a wigged man wearing a suit of dove-gray silk and tight white curls: a minister of some sort, Sisi guessed. He did not watch the meeting taking place before him, but kept his eyes fixed forward at the table in a look of cool disinterest. On Sophie’s other side stood a young man in the full military uniform. Apparently a military aide or advisor, though young, by the looks of it. Young and quite handsome. The officer had pale-blue eyes, auburn hair with just a hint of a wave, and a thin mustache. He had a narrow frame, but Sisi had to admit that he made quite an arresting impression in the sturdy red and white uniform, its details trimmed in gold thread. The young officer looked up in time to catch Sisi staring at him. Quickly, she averted her eyes, but not before her cheeks had grown warm. Oh, how she would have to watch herself at court, suddenly exposed to all of these handsome men! No, she could not allow herself to be distracted by Aunt Sophie’s military aide, or any other man, when she had to help Helene secure her place as the emperor’s wife.

  The two sisters now separated from their embrace. Sisi noticed that both women had tears on their cheeks, though Sophie quickly brushed hers aside and sat back down in her chair.

  “Well, Ludovika, step aside so that I may see your beautiful daughters.” The cold edges of Sophie’s authority had been thawed, slightly, by the display of familial affection. But an intangible sternness still clung to her unsmiling features.

  “Of course, Soph. This here—”

  “Tut, tut, so you’ve taken it upon yourself to disregard my royal title?” The archduchess leaned her head to the side, staring at her younger sister with a quizzical purse of her lips. “So comfortable, already?”

  “Oh.” Ludovika cleared her throat. “Am . . . am I to call you . . .”

  “I’m only teasing,” Sophie said with a flicker of her wrist as if to swat away a fly. “A joke.”

  But was it? Sisi wondered.

  “Step aside, Ludovika.”

  “Yes, of course.” Ludovika slid backward, like a skittish mare unclear of the trainer’s instructions, fearful of the whip. Now Aunt Sophie’s eyes fell fully, for the first time, onto her nieces. “Ludovika,” her eyes narrowed, “why are they in black?”

  What happened next was quick, an instantaneous exchange, and one Sisi might not have noticed had she not been watching her aunt so closely. Sophie’s eyes darted to the young man, the officer standing beside her, as if to ask him something. A wordless communication. And then she turned back to Ludovika, her gaze cold and censorious. “Why have you not changed out of this awful black, Ludovika?” Sophie crossed her arms in front of her.

  “We intended to, Sophie. Truly, we did. But it’s just that—”

  “You should have changed on the road.”

  “We tried, Sophie. But the coach carrying our trunks got separated.”

  “That was poor planning on your part.”

  “And once we got here, we were ushered immediately inside.”

  “For a meeting like this, you should have been more prepared.”

  To Sisi’s
astonishment, her mother fell silent at Sophie’s words of rebuke. Eventually, Sophie sighed.

  “Fortunately they have their youth and their health to recommend them,” Sophie said, speaking of her nieces as if they were not present. “Let me guess, this is your eldest, Helene? I see the strong family resemblance. She is a beauty.”

  “No, Sophie, that is my second girl, Sisi, I mean . . . Elisabeth,” Ludovika answered, stepping in front of Sisi and putting her arms on Helene’s shoulders. “This is our Helene. Our sweet, tender, obedient Helene, and our eldest daughter.”

  “Oh?” Sophie turned from Sisi to Helene, pausing a moment to register her error. “Oh! That is Helene?” She said it as if she wished to be corrected. When Ludovika nodded, Sophie’s exhale was audible. A sigh of . . . what was it, disappointment?

  “My word, I would not have guessed. It’s been so long since I’ve seen you girls.”

  Sophie studied Helene now without modesty or shame, as she would inspect a horse she considered acquiring for the imperial stables. “But you seem . . . I don’t know . . . younger than the other one.”

  Ludovika shifted on her feet, attempting a half-coherent reply that mentioned something about a dainty, feminine figure. Both Helene and Sisi had dropped their eyes so that they each appeared very preoccupied with the hemlines of their black dresses.

  “What’s the age difference between the two of them?” Sophie asked.

  “Elisabeth is but fifteen. Helene just turned eighteen, the perfect age for matrimony,” Ludovika answered.

  “Indeed?” Sophie cocked her head, unconvinced. “She still has the figure of a girl. She doesn’t look eighteen.”

  Ludovika shrugged, a polite smile clinging to her face. “Well, I can assure you, she is. I was there when it happened, after all.”

  “And how old did you say the other one is?”