The Accidental Empress (45 page)

The separation was torturous, but somehow palliated by the fact that Sisi knew it would soon be over. It was not worth waging a war, or risking Franz’s anger, when she had won the ultimate victory. She and the girls would be departing court with Franz, and that knowledge bolstered Sisi’s spirits as the days grew shorter and cooler weather nudged aside the final days of summer.

Sisi found her bedchamber empty when she returned one afternoon, a few weeks later, following a solitary ride through the woods outside of Vienna.

“Agata?” The maid, the mainstay of her royal bedchamber, did not answer when Sisi called. She tugged at the bellpull. “Agata?”

Probably off on a midday dalliance with her husband, Sisi thought with a chuckle. Let the maid have her fun.

The room had been tidied and fragrant flowers, clipped from the imperial hothouses, burst forth from the vases. The bedding was freshly changed, and a lemon-colored tea gown waited atop Sisi’s bed, ready for her afternoon wardrobe change. Beside the gown sat a letter.

Sisi reached for the letter, remembering in that moment that she owed a note back to her cousin Ludwig, and another for Helene. Even the mundane tasks of sending and receiving mail somehow seemed so much more enjoyable, now that she knew she would be leaving for Budapest so soon.

Sisi turned her attention back to the note in her hands, unfolding the paper as she studied the unfamiliar penmanship. The note had been delivered unsigned. Intrigued, Sisi began to read.

“The natural destiny of a Queen is to give an heir to the throne. If the Queen is so fortunate as to provide the State with a Crown Prince this should be the end of her ambition—she should by no means meddle with the government of an empire, the care of which is not a task for women . . .”

Sisi’s hand trembled as she digested the words, causing the letter to quiver in her grip. Still, she forced herself to read on:

“If the Queen bears no sons, she is merely a foreigner in the State, and a very dangerous foreigner, too. For as she can never hope to be looked on kindly here, and must always expect to be sent back whence she came, so will she always seek to win the King by other than natural means; she will struggle for position and power by intrigue and the sowing of discord, to the mischief of the King, the nation, and the empire.”

Just as Sisi finished this letter, Agata entered the room, humming a merry tune. “Good afternoon, Empress Elisabeth. Didn’t realize you had come back so soon.”

“Agata.” Sisi’s voice was unsteady as she turned toward the maid. “Who delivered this letter?”

The maid looked at the paper, confused. “I’m not sure, Madame. I’ve been in the . . . kitchens.” Agata was lying, and this further enraged Sisi.

“You didn’t see who placed this letter on my bed?”

“I apologize, Your Majesty, I did not.”

“Agata, you are not to leave my room unattended in the middle of the day ever again.” Sisi walked toward the maid, still clutching the letter in her grip. “I need you, don’t you understand? You are commanded to attend to my rooms at all times, not to go meeting that husband of yours.”

“Yes, Majesty.”

Sisi noticed the wounded look on Agata’s face, and she felt a moment of guilt. But she did not have the time to care. Her mind was racing.

“Where is Herr Lobkowitz?”

“He went to make inquiries about the Hungarian fabrics, like you requested.”

“Fetch him, now.”

“Right away, Majesty.”

Herr Lobkowitz arrived, and he, too, swore ignorance of the letter’s delivery and authorship. As did Marie, Paula, Karoline, and Countess Esterházy. But Sisi had already guessed from where it came; there was only one answer.

“I need to see the archduchess.” Sisi was stopped outside Sophie’s apartments, a guard, stiff in posture and his starched wool uniform, preventing her entry.

“The archduchess is resting at the moment with the imperial princesses, Your Grace.” The guard said it with infuriating formality. Did he not know that those little princesses were her two
daughters
?

“I’ll wait, then.” Sisi glowered at the man, taking a seat in one of the antechamber’s creaky wooden chairs.

After several moments the muffled sound of Sophie’s voice, doled out in tender, soft coos, slipped through the cracks of the bedroom door. Sisi rose from her chair, her blood roiling. “She is awake.”

“Our orders are not to disturb the archduchess and the princesses, Your Grace.” The guard’s tone was matter-of-fact, his face maintaining a mask of well-conditioned indifference. It only further infuriated Sisi.

“This is ridiculous. I am the empress and I demand to see my mother-in-law.”

But the guard stood rooted in place, impassive. “Majesty, I’ve been ordered that she wishes to have no visitors this afternoon while she sleeps.”

“She is awake! I can hear her within the chamber!”

Now the guard shifted his weight, and Sisi sensed his resolve cracking, ever so slightly. He was there to follow orders, not to negotiate a feud in the imperial family.

“Step aside. Please.”

“But . . . my orders are my orders, Majesty.”

“Well, my orders override hers.” Sisi threw her shoulders back, standing to her full height. “The empress counterorders you to disregard the orders of the archduchess. If Sophie punishes you for allowing me in, you shall have an immediate replacement post at my chambers. Or better yet, the emperor’s. Now let me pass.” Sisi did not wait for the guard’s agreement, but rather slid past him and opened the door.

The scene she walked into was enough to cause her knees to crumble beneath her. Sophie was not sleeping. Neither were the girls. The baby, dressed in a crisp white gown, had been sprawled out on a soft pink blanket on the floor. Little Sophie sat beside her sister, playing with a baby doll, while the archduchess reclined, instructing little Sophie on the best way to brush the baby doll’s blond hair. It was a tender moment, a beautiful moment, but Sisi should have been in it—it was
she
who should have been playing the role of mother.

The pain Sisi felt only solidified her resolve, so that any deference she might have displayed to her mother-in-law now hardened into a bitter iron in her gut. From the corner of the room, Sophie’s small dog looked up from his plush pillow, growling as Sisi approached.

“Sophie, please have the nurse remove my girls. They are to be taken to my apartment.”

“Elisabeth! This is a surprise.” Sophie looked up from the floor, struggling to hoist her thickening midsection to a seated position. “I ordered that no visitors were to be admitted.”

“Mamma!” Little Sophie smiled up at Sisi, reaching her pudgy hands forward.

“Hello, my darling.” Sisi reached down and lifted the little girl, planting two long kisses on each round cheek.

“My baby.” Little Sophie held forth her doll, proud.

“She is a lovely baby, Sophie,” Sisi answered, brushing an auburn curl behind her daughter’s ear.

Sisi wept inwardly as she handed the toddler to the nurse. “Please take her out while I speak with the archduchess.”

“No!” little Sophie protested, trying to wriggle free from the nurse. “Grandmamma, come with me.” Little Sophie threw Sisi a wounded look, stunned by her mother’s betrayal, before reaching for her grandmother. The evidence of the little girl’s preference stung Sisi like an arrow.

“I shall be right there, my little pet.” Sophie rose from the floor, allowing a second nurse to remove Gisela as well. When the two women were left alone, Sophie allowed the feigned smile to slip from her face. “Well, this is something new, Elisabeth—do you think it is appropriate to burst into my apartments and start ordering my servants around?”

“They are all Franz’s servants, I believe.”

“You’ve upset the children. What is it, Elisabeth?” Sophie stood just inches from her now, her light eyes meeting Sisi’s furious stare in an expression of cool defiance.

“Would you please explain this, Sophie?” Sisi raised the letter in her hand.

Sophie stood, unfazed, as she stared at the paper in Sisi’s hand. “I have no idea who wrote that letter, Elisabeth.”

“I didn’t tell you it was a letter.”

Sophie looked up, her eyes betraying a fleeting hint of fear, but she did not speak.

“I suspect that you know precisely what it is, Sophie. And that you wrote it.”

“Believe whatever you want.” Sophie turned and walked toward a large rosewood desk, for which she pulled a key from her skirt pocket. “I learned a long time ago not to waste my breath trying to sway you. You are as wild and obstinate as a mule. Just like your father always was.”

Sisi followed her mother-in-law toward the desk, teeth clenched as she fought to keep her voice composed. “Sophie, how dare you threaten me with a letter of this nature?”

Sophie unlocked and reached into a desk drawer to retrieve a pair of spectacles, which she now slid onto her nose. “May I?” Sophie pointed toward the letter.

Sisi placed it into her mother-in-law’s thick, ringed fingers. Sophie read the words slowly, as if seeing them for the first time. After several minutes, she lowered the page.

“As I said, I did not pen this note. But nothing in it is threatening, unless you see the truth as threatening.”

“It threatens to exile me from court if I discuss foreign policy with my husband.”

“There are people in this court, Elisabeth, who find it highly inappropriate that you are attempting to meddle in the relations with Hungary. That you have demanded that you be allowed to join him in Budapest.”

“Doesn’t the emperor dictate, Sophie? Isn’t that . . .
custom
?”

“Of course, but don’t think for a moment that I . . . that people . . . don’t see how you attempt to sway him with—”

“Then, as long as my husband approves of my joining him, I care not what anyone thinks. You have no right to threaten me like this. How do you think Franz would feel if he read this?”

“I think Franz wants a son. In fact, I know he does.”

This point stung Sisi, because she also knew it to be true.

“That’s the only purpose of this note, Elisabeth. Someone thinks it necessary to remind you of your place here. And your purpose is to give Franz sons. Not to go gallivanting off to Hungary to ride horses.”

This last point took Sisi by surprise: someone in her room, having overheard her confessions of how eager she was to ride along the Hungarian plains, had reported it back to Sophie. Was
everything
she said reported?

Sisi threw her shoulders back, looking squarely into Sophie’s eyes. “I have had two of Franz’s children in two years.”

“Both girls.”

“I’m not barren—a son will come. I cannot be banished because it has yet to happen.”

“Worse things have happened to emperor’s wives before. You wouldn’t be the first to fall out of favor when she fails to deliver on her end of the arrangement.”

“I remember hearing that it took you . . . how long was it? Six years to conceive your first child?” Sisi snapped, indignant. The stunned look on Sophie’s face filled Sisi with momentary satisfaction.

“Well, this is hardly . . .” Sophie stammered, patting the folds of her skirt as her eyes fell to the floor. And then, after just a moment, she stood up tall, jutting her chin out. “No one in this court questioned my utter determination to have my husband’s children. I made it plain that that was my primary purpose. You could benefit from doing the same.”

“You would disband the union which Franz and I made before God? The union which has produced your two beloved granddaughters?”

“I will do nothing of the sort if you begin to show that you take seriously the business of having a son. But what I will say is that dashing off to Hungary to ride horses and meddle in discussions with the likes of Andrássy is the last thing you should be thinking about. You should be pregnant and you should stay here and rest.”

“Franz and I might be a lot happier, and a lot more likely to produce an heir, if you would stop meddling in our marriage. Did you think about that, Sophie?”

Sophie stammered, her face drained of color. Sisi was certain that the archduchess rarely—if ever—engaged in arguments this impassioned. No one would have dared.

“Don’t think for a minute, Elisabeth, that you are irreplaceable. My son might be smitten with you. But there are
plenty
of other young women in this court who would happily do your job. And unlike you, they would not spend their days complaining and quarreling.”

This latest point was too absurd, too painful, to warrant a response, and Sisi turned on her heels to leave the room. She felt more relieved than ever to be quitting this court for Budapest.

A state of perpetual pregnancy—that was what Sophie expected? And only boys within her womb, as if Sisi could control that? But a thought gave Sisi momentary pause, and she hovered in the doorway, standing tall with artificial confidence.

“Sophie, shall you be sacking this guard who allowed me into your chamber?”

Sophie stared at her daughter-in-law, considering this question. “Yes,” she stammered, after a pause. “Yes, I most certainly shall. You, man, you’re dismissed.” Sophie pointed a menacing finger at the guard.