seeing bright color once more, and she couldn’t help but smile.
“Well, let me see my girls in their fresh clothing.” Ludovika swirled into the room, a blur of raspberry brocade and tightly pressed dark curls.
“Hello, Mamma.” Sisi ran to the duchess.
“Sisi, how nice you look. Wasn’t it a relief to have a good bath and a change of clothes?” The duchess’s spirits seemed higher than they had been following the afternoon’s initial introduction. That was, until she spotted her elder daughter. “Oh, Helene, gray? Must you wear something so colorless?”
“What’s wrong with gray? I like gray,” Helene repeated her earlier justification, standing up from the dressing table.
“Gray is fine for mass during Lent. But can’t you put on something a bit merrier to have dinner with your groom?” Ludovika riffled through the pile of gowns her daughters had unpacked. “How about this nice yellow gown? Or perhaps something in peach? Or why don’t you borrow the one Sisi has on?” Ludovika gestured toward her younger daughter. “Sisi, let Helene wear the blue.”
“But, Mamma, I am wearing this one,” Sisi answered, folding her arms protectively over her dress.
Ludovika shot Sisi an aggravated scowl. “Yes, but perhaps your older sister should wear it instead.”
“I don’t want to wear that one.” Helene shook her head.
Ludovika slouched, the buoyancy with which she’d entered the room suddenly gone.
When Franz Joseph’s name was announced, he entered the receiving area flanked by men wearing the same white and red uniform. Everyone waiting in the anteroom bowed.
“Cousin Helene, Cousin Elisabeth.” He approached his cousins first. “Please rise. And please, allow me to say how lovely you both look this evening.”
Helene offered nothing by way of reply, but instead threw furtive glances around the room, her dark eyes avoiding the curious stares of the guards and whispering courtiers. Sisi could sense her sister’s panic at the thought of speaking with these strangers. For fear of their appearing rude, Sisi answered their cousin. “Thank you, Your Majesty.”
“Please”—he raised a gloved hand—“it’s Franz.”
Sisi smiled, surprised—yet flattered—to find the emperor speaking to them especially. As she lifted her eyes from her curtsy she noticed, a bit guiltily, that his stare rested on her, and she hoped that he did not notice the reddening of her cheeks.
Franz had not changed out of the white and red military uniform he had worn earlier, but his hair had been combed back and he smelled fresh with the scent of eau de cologne. His stiff, high-necked coat made him appear impeccably dignified.
A gong sounded, announcing dinner. Extending an arm toward each of them, Franz smiled. “May I escort you ladies in to dinner?”
Sisi waited so that Helene could take his arm first and thereby enter into some pleasant conversation. But she noticed, as they walked into the dining hall, that Helene did not speak.
They left the antechamber and proceeded through a candlelit hallway, illuminated by crystal chandeliers and bordered on each side by a column of imperial footmen.
Sisi stared from side to side at the two rows of footmen, each figure identical in a crisply pressed livery of black and gold, eyes unblinking, mustaches trimmed tidily, much like her cousin’s. “They are so serious,” Sisi observed, watching them intently. They kept their gazes fixed ahead on some unmoving point, so that even though Sisi walked between them, they did not seem to see her.
“Don’t be afraid of them, Cousin Elisabeth. They appear more intimidating than they are,” Franz whispered to his cousin.
“How do they stand so still?” Sisi wondered aloud. “Like statues.”
“Lots of training,” Franz answered. “You could do the same if you needed to.”
“I very much doubt it,” Sisi laughed.
Franz kept his attention fixed on Sisi as the three of them made their way toward the banquet
“Well, let me see my girls in their fresh clothing.” Ludovika swirled into the room, a blur of raspberry brocade and tightly pressed dark curls.
“Hello, Mamma.” Sisi ran to the duchess.
“Sisi, how nice you look. Wasn’t it a relief to have a good bath and a change of clothes?” The duchess’s spirits seemed higher than they had been following the afternoon’s initial introduction. That was, until she spotted her elder daughter. “Oh, Helene, gray? Must you wear something so colorless?”
“What’s wrong with gray? I like gray,” Helene repeated her earlier justification, standing up from the dressing table.
“Gray is fine for mass during Lent. But can’t you put on something a bit merrier to have dinner with your groom?” Ludovika riffled through the pile of gowns her daughters had unpacked. “How about this nice yellow gown? Or perhaps something in peach? Or why don’t you borrow the one Sisi has on?” Ludovika gestured toward her younger daughter. “Sisi, let Helene wear the blue.”
“But, Mamma, I am wearing this one,” Sisi answered, folding her arms protectively over her dress.
Ludovika shot Sisi an aggravated scowl. “Yes, but perhaps your older sister should wear it instead.”
“I don’t want to wear that one.” Helene shook her head.
Ludovika slouched, the buoyancy with which she’d entered the room suddenly gone.
When Franz Joseph’s name was announced, he entered the receiving area flanked by men wearing the same white and red uniform. Everyone waiting in the anteroom bowed.
“Cousin Helene, Cousin Elisabeth.” He approached his cousins first. “Please rise. And please, allow me to say how lovely you both look this evening.”
Helene offered nothing by way of reply, but instead threw furtive glances around the room, her dark eyes avoiding the curious stares of the guards and whispering courtiers. Sisi could sense her sister’s panic at the thought of speaking with these strangers. For fear of their appearing rude, Sisi answered their cousin. “Thank you, Your Majesty.”
“Please”—he raised a gloved hand—“it’s Franz.”
Sisi smiled, surprised—yet flattered—to find the emperor speaking to them especially. As she lifted her eyes from her curtsy she noticed, a bit guiltily, that his stare rested on her, and she hoped that he did not notice the reddening of her cheeks.
Franz had not changed out of the white and red military uniform he had worn earlier, but his hair had been combed back and he smelled fresh with the scent of eau de cologne. His stiff, high-necked coat made him appear impeccably dignified.
A gong sounded, announcing dinner. Extending an arm toward each of them, Franz smiled. “May I escort you ladies in to dinner?”
Sisi waited so that Helene could take his arm first and thereby enter into some pleasant conversation. But she noticed, as they walked into the dining hall, that Helene did not speak.
They left the antechamber and proceeded through a candlelit hallway, illuminated by crystal chandeliers and bordered on each side by a column of imperial footmen.
Sisi stared from side to side at the two rows of footmen, each figure identical in a crisply pressed livery of black and gold, eyes unblinking, mustaches trimmed tidily, much like her cousin’s. “They are so serious,” Sisi observed, watching them intently. They kept their gazes fixed ahead on some unmoving point, so that even though Sisi walked between them, they did not seem to see her.
“Don’t be afraid of them, Cousin Elisabeth. They appear more intimidating than they are,” Franz whispered to his cousin.
“How do they stand so still?” Sisi wondered aloud. “Like statues.”
“Lots of training,” Franz answered. “You could do the same if you needed to.”
“I very much doubt it,” Sisi laughed.
Franz kept his attention fixed on Sisi as the three of them made their way toward the banquet
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