hall. “Are you pleased with the Kaiservilla?”
“Oh, indeed.” Sisi nodded, turning from the motionless figures back to her cousin. When their eyes met, Sisi forced herself not to smile at him. And then, to look away. There was no good reason to be staring into the clear, light-blue eyes of her sister’s fiancé.
The sound of violin music now floated delicately through the air, and Sisi peered through the open archway into the dining hall. In spite of herself, she gasped at the candlelit splendor of the room they now approached. “My word.”
The dining hall was flooded in amber light, festooned with a line of overhead chandeliers, each one ablaze with several dozen candles. A long central table beneath the chandeliers ran the length of the wood-paneled room. Sisi admired the scene, not sure how they would fit any food on the table between the heaps of silver candelabra, ripe summertime flowers overspilling the china vases, and hors d’oeuvres of pâté, butter rolls, and miniature pickles.
“It’s like a painting,” Sisi whispered, more to herself than to anyone else.
Franz turned once more to Sisi beside him, his features aglow in candlelight, softening into an affable smile. “I think that one of my cousins is happy. How about you, Helene?” Franz turned now to his fiancée, standing on his left.
“This is nice.” Helene’s response came out sounding forced, but at least agreeable. How Helene could be anything but delighted by now was difficult for Sisi to understand, but she suppressed her desire to once again interject herself into the scene.
“Here we are. Franz, girls, come sit.” Sophie, who had been escorted to dinner by a man in uniform slightly older than Franz, moved toward the head of the table on the far side of the room. She took her seat there, as several solicitous footmen hovered about her.
“Come, to your seats, everybody. We won’t bite.” Sophie’s miniature dog was placed in her lap by another footman. It took Sisi a moment, but she soon deduced that it was the same minister from earlier who took the seat to Sophie’s right; he had shed the formal white wig so that his natural, black hair flew wildly from his scalp. An empty chair waited on Sophie’s left.
Sophie beckoned the three of them forward, a flourish of her heavily ringed hand. “I hate to be kept waiting, especially when I’m hungry.” A full plate of hors d’oeuvres—slices of goose liver pâté, veal dumplings, Viennese sausages, and pickled herring salad—was now placed in front of her.
“Elisabeth, come sit by me.” Sophie summoned Sisi across the room to the empty chair beside her. “Franz, let go of your pretty little cousin’s arm, I demand that she be my dining companion this evening.”
“Best to do as she says,” Franz spoke softly to Sisi. “Enjoy your dinner.” They exchanged a smile and Sisi slipped free from Franz’s arm. Sisi crossed the room toward her aunt, aware that the eyes of the ministers already seated at the table now rested upon her. “Hello, Mamma,” Sisi whispered to the duchess as she walked past her.
Franz kept Helene on his arm, escorting her to a chair on the opposite end of the table from Sisi. When Helene was situated, Franz took the seat at the head of the table farthest from his mother and immediately adjacent to his fiancée. Ludovika was placed to his other side, across from her elder daughter.
“Gentlemen, this is my niece, Elisabeth of Bavaria.” Sophie spoke to her end of the table, turning to the black-haired minister from earlier in the day.
“She is so entertaining, is she not? Why, she actually told me earlier that she would love to be a goat herder!” Sophie broke into laughter as the men looked at Sisi with expressions ranging from keen interest to befuddlement. At that introduction, Sisi accepted a footman’s outstretched arm and lowered herself into her chair.
“Elisabeth, meet some of my . . . Franz’s, the emperor’s . . .
“Oh, indeed.” Sisi nodded, turning from the motionless figures back to her cousin. When their eyes met, Sisi forced herself not to smile at him. And then, to look away. There was no good reason to be staring into the clear, light-blue eyes of her sister’s fiancé.
The sound of violin music now floated delicately through the air, and Sisi peered through the open archway into the dining hall. In spite of herself, she gasped at the candlelit splendor of the room they now approached. “My word.”
The dining hall was flooded in amber light, festooned with a line of overhead chandeliers, each one ablaze with several dozen candles. A long central table beneath the chandeliers ran the length of the wood-paneled room. Sisi admired the scene, not sure how they would fit any food on the table between the heaps of silver candelabra, ripe summertime flowers overspilling the china vases, and hors d’oeuvres of pâté, butter rolls, and miniature pickles.
“It’s like a painting,” Sisi whispered, more to herself than to anyone else.
Franz turned once more to Sisi beside him, his features aglow in candlelight, softening into an affable smile. “I think that one of my cousins is happy. How about you, Helene?” Franz turned now to his fiancée, standing on his left.
“This is nice.” Helene’s response came out sounding forced, but at least agreeable. How Helene could be anything but delighted by now was difficult for Sisi to understand, but she suppressed her desire to once again interject herself into the scene.
“Here we are. Franz, girls, come sit.” Sophie, who had been escorted to dinner by a man in uniform slightly older than Franz, moved toward the head of the table on the far side of the room. She took her seat there, as several solicitous footmen hovered about her.
“Come, to your seats, everybody. We won’t bite.” Sophie’s miniature dog was placed in her lap by another footman. It took Sisi a moment, but she soon deduced that it was the same minister from earlier who took the seat to Sophie’s right; he had shed the formal white wig so that his natural, black hair flew wildly from his scalp. An empty chair waited on Sophie’s left.
Sophie beckoned the three of them forward, a flourish of her heavily ringed hand. “I hate to be kept waiting, especially when I’m hungry.” A full plate of hors d’oeuvres—slices of goose liver pâté, veal dumplings, Viennese sausages, and pickled herring salad—was now placed in front of her.
“Elisabeth, come sit by me.” Sophie summoned Sisi across the room to the empty chair beside her. “Franz, let go of your pretty little cousin’s arm, I demand that she be my dining companion this evening.”
“Best to do as she says,” Franz spoke softly to Sisi. “Enjoy your dinner.” They exchanged a smile and Sisi slipped free from Franz’s arm. Sisi crossed the room toward her aunt, aware that the eyes of the ministers already seated at the table now rested upon her. “Hello, Mamma,” Sisi whispered to the duchess as she walked past her.
Franz kept Helene on his arm, escorting her to a chair on the opposite end of the table from Sisi. When Helene was situated, Franz took the seat at the head of the table farthest from his mother and immediately adjacent to his fiancée. Ludovika was placed to his other side, across from her elder daughter.
“Gentlemen, this is my niece, Elisabeth of Bavaria.” Sophie spoke to her end of the table, turning to the black-haired minister from earlier in the day.
“She is so entertaining, is she not? Why, she actually told me earlier that she would love to be a goat herder!” Sophie broke into laughter as the men looked at Sisi with expressions ranging from keen interest to befuddlement. At that introduction, Sisi accepted a footman’s outstretched arm and lowered herself into her chair.
“Elisabeth, meet some of my . . . Franz’s, the emperor’s . . .
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