The Accidental Empress (15 page)

Sisi studied the tack wall, taking in the presence of so many bits, bridles, steel snapples, wool blankets, grooming boxes, leathers, and saddle pads. Why, everyone in the palace, servants included, could have ridden at the same time given how much equipment and how many horses were housed in this stable. The saddle collection alone was probably worth more than Sisi’s entire stable at Possenhofen: saddles fashioned in sleek brown leather with soft supple curves to fit the shapes of the strong backs upon which they rested.

But the best feature of these stables was its collection of horses; rows of stalls stretched before Sisi, each filled with a specimen that alone might have cost an ordinary family its entire year’s wages.

“Look at these horses.” Sisi walked the corridor of the stable, absentmindedly breaking free from Grünne’s arm to gain a closer look. How she longed to reach through the ornate wrought-iron gates and touch the horses. Each stall presented a new occupant that appeared even stronger than the one before—clearly the imperial stables only housed horses in peak health and condition. There were mares: their frames long and light, bred over centuries to run without growing weary. There were stately Thoroughbreds, haughty and skittish. Several stalls were filled with Hanoverians, the German horses bred for their indomitability at war, with their broad muscular chests and thick, barrel-shaped necks. There were the lithe hunters and the golden chestnuts, these daintier breeds probably preferred by the women of the court.

Toward the back stood half a dozen Lippizaners, the Austrian prancing horses cloaked in beautiful dapple-gray—a white mane with small black and gray freckles. This group occupied Sisi’s interest the most, as this was the same breed as Bummerl.

Sisi approached a medium-sized female Lippizaner, reading the name scrawled on the wooden gate. “Diamant,” she noted aloud. “Hello, Diamant.” She removed her riding glove and extended her hand, allowing the horse to acclimate to her foreign human smell before running her fingers over the soft, spackled fur of its nose. “Oh, you are a beautiful one, aren’t you?” Sisi cooed as the horse welcomed her attention, cocking its head into her caresses.

“Ah, yes, this one looks like she has a coat full of diamonds.” Franz had approached undetected, and Sisi started slightly at the sound of his voice, jerking her hand away from the horse.

“I named her myself when she was born. She’s the daughter of this one.” He pointed to the adjacent stall that housed a Lippizaner similar in build and color to Diamant. “This here is Blume. But her proper name is Dame von Blume.”

“Lady of Flowers.” Sisi couldn’t help but chuckle at the name, looking at the mother horse. “Hello, Blume.”

“Because of this, do you see?” Franz took Sisi’s ungloved hand in his own and pointed her fingers toward Blume’s chest, where a small cluster of white fur seemed whittled out amid a constellation of gray freckles. Sisi’s heart leapt, keenly aware of the soft touch of Franz’s skin on her own.

“It looks like edelweiss, does it not?” Franz’s voice was quiet, his lips close to her ear. Just then, the horse offered its snout, nestling against Sisi’s and Franz’s hands for a caress.

“It does. She is beautiful,” Sisi replied, smiling at the sudden familiarity of the horse. She noticed, dizzily, that Franz still touched her ungloved skin.

“You are a great admirer of horses?” Franz let go of her hand but remained close, his gaze still locked on her.

“Very much.”

“Then I hope you will make yourself comfortable in here. Please treat these stables as your own.”

“You are too kind, Your Majesty.”

“Please.” He waved his hand. “I beg you to call me Franz.”

Sisi glanced down the length of the barn and noticed Helene and Count Grünne speaking cordially in front of a wall of saddles. How was it that Helene could be perfectly agreeable with a stranger such as Count Grünne, yet she froze whenever she interacted with Franz?

Franz had followed Sisi’s gaze. “Your sister told me last night that she doesn’t enjoy riding. Not as you do.”

Sisi pulled her gaze back, looking once more at Franz. She was grateful that, in the shadowy stable, the flush of her cheeks might appear less obvious.

“Let’s go,” Franz said, quietly, “just you and I.”

“Go where?” Sisi asked, taken aback.

Franz pointed at the horse. “For a ride.”

“Oh, I’m sure that Helene would like to join us,” she said, turning her focus back on Diamant, feeling guilty at even having heard the suggestion.

“Come now, Elisabeth. May I call you that?
Elisabeth
.”

She nodded absently, her words stuck in her throat.

“Please, Elisabeth. I so rarely have time off for my own leisure. I would love to take you riding. I know how you love it. You can ride Diamant. Or would you prefer Blume? You may have your pick.” He waved at the stables, his eyes still fixed on her.

She hesitated, but he continued, insistent. “I’ll have them saddle up my horse.” He stared with an intensity that was foreign and uncomfortable to Sisi—she had never been the recipient of such an expectant stare by an attractive young man. Much less an emperor.

“I’m not sure that it is a good time,” Sisi answered, her voice sounding as feeble as her half-formed excuse.

“Why not? You’re dressed for riding. I have had Count Grünne clear my calendar this morning. The horses certainly are not otherwise engaged.”

Sisi shifted her weight, her fingers touching the flowers strewn around her bonnet, a distracted, girlish gesture.

“Let’s take a ride,” Franz insisted once more.

“Well, perhaps Helene would like to join us.” Sisi stammered, throwing an irritated look at her sister, who seemed oblivious to this exchange.

Franz, too, looked down the long corridor of the stable toward Helene. And then, without a moment’s pause, he called out: “Grünne, you don’t mind escorting my cousin Helene back to the villa, do you? I’d like to take my cousin Elisabeth for a ride.”

Sisi saw how, in the shadowed corner of the stable, Helene’s mouth fell open, her eyes fixing on her sister. Sisi, frantic, returned her gape:
Forgive me, Néné. I didn’t mean for this to happen.

Franz continued, his tone effortlessly affable: “I’ve been hearing from Elisabeth what an avid rider she is. I’d like to see it for myself.” Looking from one sister to the other, he continued: “Cousin Helene, you said yourself that you do not enjoy riding, isn’t that so? I’ll put Count Grünne here entirely at your disposal for the morning. You may do whatever you’d like. Perhaps a walk through the gardens? Or a carriage ride into town? Her wish is your command, Grünne, do you understand?”

Grünne, looking between the two sisters, seemed to understand the situation with perfect clarity. The consummate diplomat, Grünne replied in a pleasant tone, “Of course, Your Majesty.”

“Good, it’s settled then.” Franz nodded his approval and turned back to Sisi. “I’ll have them saddle up Diamant immediately. I think you shall find she has a pleasantly smooth gait.”

Helene, still having offered no reply, stared at Sisi as if her younger sister were complicit in this crime. Sisi felt her own guilt like a stab in her gut.
I would switch places with you, Néné.

“Shall we, Duchess Helene?”

Helene, without a word, accepted Grünne’s outstretched arm and turned to exit the stables. As she crossed the threshold of the shadowy barn into the splash of determined sunlight that lit up the yard, Helene glanced back over her shoulder. What was that look? Sisi wondered, reeling. Hurt and anger? Envy? Or, Sisi wondered, could it possibly be relief?

“Here, you’ll need this,” Franz crossed the stables toward the tack wall, retrieving a black
bombe
, a riding helmet fashioned in lush velvet.

“Pardon me?” Sisi blinked, turning from the place where her sister had just exited, back toward Franz. She stared at the helmet he offered her, mute, before she understood his point. “Oh, yes, of course.” She reached to remove the straw bonnet she currently wore, offering a perfunctory “thank you.”

Franz lifted the helmet, unfastening the front buckle. “May I help you into it?”

“Oh.” Sisi fumbled, removing her straw hat. As she did so, her hair came loose, her thick, dark-blond curls tumbling down around her face and shoulders. She gathered her hair, refastening it into a quick, sloppy braid, aware that Franz watched her intently as she did so.

“It goes just like so.” Franz leaned close, placing the helmet gently on her head before clicking the buckle under her chin. The tips of his fingers grazed her cheeks, then the top of her neck. Sisi felt a shiver that could not have been caused by the balmy morning air, and she closed her eyes.

“All set.” The buckle clipped into place, Franz allowed his fingers to linger just a moment too long under her chin. Try as she could to block it out, the warm touch of Franz’s skin made itself obvious against hers, and Sisi realized yet again that this was the closest she had ever stood to a young man.

“Thank you,” she managed to say, looking away from Franz toward the horse. A stable groom appeared and she was grateful that it was this stranger who helped her into the saddle, and not Franz.

Franz mounted his horse, a thick Hanoverian with a coat as smooth and rich as chocolate. “This is Sieger.” He leaned forward to stroke his horse’s thick neck.

“Hello, Sieger. An appropriate name, he looks every inch the champion.” Sisi nodded, admiring the appearance that Franz and the stately Sieger made together.

“So far, we have never lost together,” Franz answered. “Isn’t that right, Sieger?”

The blanket Sieger wore under the saddle was of plush velvet in deep cardinal red, embroidered with a coat of arms in golden thread. Sisi studied the crest, finding it difficult to determine the meaning of the elaborately stitched design.

Franz followed her eyes. “Do you speak Latin?”

Sisi read aloud the words scrawled beneath the crest: “
Viribus Unitis
. Something about . . . being one. Oh, I’m afraid my Latin is poor. Forgive me.” Sisi averted her eyes, embarrassed. She could tell him the Latin name of any wildflower. Could quote any number of lines of Shakespeare or Goethe from memory. But ancient Latin translations? She had never found a passion for something referred to as
dead
; no, she wanted to concern herself with that which was
alive.

“ ‘United Strength,’ ” Franz said, looking as if he were trying to suppress a grin. “The Habsburg family motto.”

“The crest above it is . . .”

“Yes?”

“Interesting,” Sisi said. “I see the crown on top of the eagle, and the eagle certainly looks very proud and regal . . . but, why does the eagle have two heads?”

Franz grinned knowingly. “It’s because we Habsburgs have beheaded so many of our subjects that we believe everyone ought to be born with two heads.”

Sisi gulped, responseless.

“Cousin Elisabeth!” Franz laughed heartily. “I am joking.”

“Oh.” Sisi smiled, softening. “Thank goodness.”

Opposite her, Franz seemed entirely at ease. “But you really should have seen the look on your face.”

Sisi lowered her eyes, flushing with the warmth of the morning, the warmth of Franz’s gaze. “Then tell me the true meaning of it.”

“When Maria Theresa—my Great-Great-Grandmamma—became Empress, she married Franz Stephen, Duke of Lorraine.” Franz slid his boots into the stirrups as he explained. “The two of them not only lived together happily married, but they ruled together happily as well.”

“An admirable accomplishment,” Sisi said, thinking of her own parents’ union.
Happily
would not have been the word she would have used to describe their manner of living together.

“Indeed. More difficult than it sounds, I’d imagine,” Franz said.

Sisi nodded. Something she had seen in her poetry books, only. And yet, surely such unions existed.

“Since their marriage, the Lorraine branch has been a part of our House. So I am Franz Joseph, from the House of Habsburg-Lorraine.”

“That explains the double-headed eagle.”

“Precisely. Two families, one House.” Franz nodded.

Now settled atop her horse, Sisi’s discomfort lessened noticeably; after all, this was where she was most at ease.

“And now, I believe we are ready for our ride.” Franz clucked at his horse and led Sisi out of the stables, away from the villa. At a back gate an imperial guardsman saluted and let them pass. Sisi blinked, her eyes adjusting to the flood of sunshine.

“But Maria Theresa was not entirely lucky, in the end.” Franz picked up his history account as he trotted Sieger farther away from the villa toward the open field.

“Why is that?” Sisi asked, intrigued, as her horse kept apace with Franz’s.

“You see, Maria Theresa had a favorite daughter, for whom she made an excellent match; it was a marriage envied by every girl in Europe.”

“Who was that?” Sisi wondered aloud.

“This daughter was married to a certain King Louis. And her name was Marie Antoinette.”

“Marie Antoinette? The French queen?” That name came from a history lesson that Sisi was certain she would never forget.

“The wife of King Louis XVI. They both met their unceremonious ends at the guillotine, I’m afraid.”

Sisi had never connected this history lesson to her own cousin’s family. “My goodness, she was a great-aunt of yours.”

“She was.” Franz nodded.

“It makes one think twice about longing for the crown, I would say,” Sisi mused aloud, before she realized the poor taste of her remark. She really must learn to tame her tongue, she chided herself. “That is . . . forgive me, I would never mean to imply . . . surely you are beloved by all—”

“It’s quite all right, Cousin Elisabeth,” Franz interrupted her, adding a wave of his hand. “I understood your meaning. And I do plan to keep my head where it currently is—neck and all.”

They rode in silence for several minutes, and Sisi noticed, with a mounting sense of discomfort, that Franz’s expression had turned serious, even brooding. Still cringing over her own thoughtless remark, she did not speak. Eventually, Franz broke the silence between them. “I intend to be a monarch who works for his people and serves them well. Hopefully I will never give them reason to wish to send me to my death.” Franz looked to her with an earnest expression, and Sisi was struck once more by how good-looking her sister’s fiancé was.