Same Pillow, Same Dreams
On the same pillow, Franz Joseph received a parcel from the battlefield.
'A pillow?'
The single envelope tucked in with the pillow contained a letter from his beloved wife.
'What does this mean?'
"Adjutant, is this everything?"
Franz Joseph double-checked, wondering if some other package had been overlooked.
There was nothing else.
No military significance, no political undertones.
'Maybe Radetzky was right—shouldn't have left my wife right after the birth.'
And rightly so: the pillow he'd received was the very one from their marital bedchamber.
'Does this mean she doesn't want me to come back from the battlefield?'
With a twinge of fear, Franz Joseph picked up the enclosed letter from Elisabeth.
It was Sisi's familiar handwriting.
Franz Joseph,
Your letters from Venice always feel so cold. The beds there must be like hard stones.
I'm sending you this pillow because I worry you're not sleeping well.
Your absence makes it look so lonely.
Or perhaps it's me who can't sleep, and I'm just blaming the pillow.
Our daughter Sophie is doing wonderfully well. She has your eyes.
I wish you could come see for yourself.
May your mother's worries and the Tsar's ambitions not keep you away too long.
And even there, please don't forget yourself. Even if the shadow of war looms by day, may you think of your family's embrace at night.
Come back safely.
P.S. Rest your head on this same pillow, and may we dream the same dreams.
Sisi
Franz Joseph read the letter over and over.
Again, and again.
Savoring every single word.
"…."
He rose slowly from his seat, removed the hard pillow from his cot, and carefully placed Sisi's pillow in its stead.
I stretched before ringing the bell in the morning.
Ughhh.
Yawn. Slept great.
Ferenc really does write beautifully.
When I was alone with the reading maid, something embarrassing happened.
Hungarians naturally go by given name then family name, but unexpectedly, she wrote it family name first.
From her perspective, the Empress had approached her familiarly right away, and now it was hard for me to admit I'd gotten it wrong.
We're around the same age anyway—what's wrong with getting close? The other maids are much older.
"Why have there been so many embarrassing moments lately…."
"Did you cough, Your Majesty?"
Esterházy's voice came from beyond the canopy.
"I haven't rung the bell yet—when did you come in?"
"I stepped in briefly to prepare His Majesty's bath."
…Caught red-handed again, embarrassingly.
"Your Majesty, coughing and stretching are fine, but you mustn't make those moaning sounds."
"Got it. I'll be more careful next time."
Next time, I need to check if anyone's in the room before stretching.
"I'll bring breakfast now."
"No, wait a moment."
"Is there something special you'd like?"
I mulled over my post-birth figure.
"…Do you remember the menu from when I first arrived?"
"His Majesty will love Your Majesty just as you are now."
I'd gained weight.
Put on weight.
No wonder two maids had struggled to lace my corset last time!
"Serve that menu until His Majesty returns."
Esterházy bowed at once.
"Understood, Your Majesty."
"The roses look especially beautiful today."
"I'll prepare it right away."
I bathed in a tub filled with rose scent and emerged.
"Chief lady-in-waiting, from now on, no milk in the bath."
"Understood."
If we lose the war, they'll nitpick every little thing like that.
Whew.
I took a deep breath and sat at the table.
The menu from when I first arrived.
The things I'd faced as Sisi for the first time, then forgotten during pregnancy.
Lukewarm fresh milk, clear slippery raw egg whites lightly salted, and meat juices.
I picked up the glass of fishy raw egg first and squeezed my eyes shut.
The cold, slimy liquid slid down my throat in one gulp.
My stomach churned….
How had I eaten this before?
All I could do now was maintain the image of a beautiful empress.
Was it easier than playing the approachable, loving empress to the people?
Well, they wouldn't even let me out anyway.
I'd defended the empress apartments, but going beyond was still forbidden.
I forced down the unpalatable stuff, enduring a meal that barely deserved the name.
Should I go see Sophie?
"Chief lady-in-waiting, I want to see Archduchess Sophie."
"I'll notify the archduchess's chief maid of Your Majesty's visit at once."
"Very well."
To see my own daughter, I needed their permission, not my own will.
The nursery was in Sophie Archduchess's apartments, not mine. I needed her approval to go.
To see my daughter freely, I couldn't let my mother-in-law come and go as she pleased in my apartments, so I needed to move the nursery here. Any good ideas?
Schoda… well, he'd avoid politics as much as possible. He knew better than anyone this was a standoff between me and Sophie.
"Franz Joseph…."
Ultimately, I needed to persuade Franz Joseph somehow.
"Your Majesty, would you care for some riding in your spare time?"
Riding?
"Chief lady-in-waiting, didn't you say that wasn't proper etiquette?"
"His Majesty had a riding arena built specially for you, out of sight of others."
Oh.
My riding experience was just mimicking it in dramas. I couldn't handle a horse like Sisi. What to do?
"I'd like to enjoy a tea party with Lady Slavonice after a long time."
*
Seeing Sophie would have to wait until after Sophie Archduchess's "office hours," so in my remaining time, I had to learn riding while tea-partying with Lady Slavonice.
"Welcome, Lady Slavonice."
"Thank you for inviting me to tea, Your Majesty."
I gestured for her to sit.
"I hear marriage talks are underway?"
"Yes, negotiations with the Metternich family are in progress."
"Congratulations on the match. Hearing such glad tidings, I couldn't put off our promise any longer."
I reminded her of the promise from my first tea party: to ride together.
Pauline's face lit up.
"Your Majesty remembered! The new riding arena His Majesty built is the talk of the entire court. Everyone's looking forward to seeing you ride there."
Everyone anticipating it was burdensome. Time to get to the point.
I set down my teacup and leaned slightly toward her, whispering as if sharing a secret.
"That's exactly why I need your help, Lady."
"My help?"
"The court expects me to ride like I did in Bavaria. But…."
I sighed and subtly indicated my abdomen.
"After childbirth and that dreadful Bohemia business, my legs have no strength left. Honestly, I have no confidence I can even stay seated in the saddle."
This was the best angle—not that I couldn't ride, but that my body hadn't recovered.
"Your Majesty…."
"I don't want to be embarrassed in front of the Archduchess or anyone else. Calling in an instructor would reach Sophie Archduchess's ears immediately."
I gently took Pauline's hand.
"So, Pauline—not as an instructor, but as a friend—could you help me regain my old feel for it? Just us, secretly."
Sharing the empress's secret. Becoming the empress's friend. She couldn't refuse.
Marrying into Metternich meant Pauline had plenty of political savvy.
And she was a star of society. Few reasons to turn down the empress's favor.
"Your Majesty, it would be my greatest honor. Of course. I'll help you start as slowly as you like, and no one will know."
Done! First instructor secured.
The maid placed Sachertorte on our table.
"Let's have some tea first."
Pauline and I traded light society banter.
She complained about the Metternich match but seemed secretly thrilled.
As I set down my cup, I said,
"How about we preview the place His Majesty gifted me?"
"Great idea."
The riding arena Franz Joseph built was not far from my apartments.
The footman opened the door, revealing a dazzling white space.
"…My goodness."
Pauline gasped in admiration.
Insane….
This was a riding arena?
A ceiling as high and grand as the court chapel. Massive white pillars supporting the space. Sunlight pouring between them gilded the sandy floor.
And overhead….
"Even chandeliers."
Pauline murmured.
"It's like they moved the Winter Riding School here—only even more splendid."
Exactly.
Oblivious to my feelings, Pauline kept chatting.
"You can feel His Majesty's love. Any horse would dance in a place like this!"
It was my gift, yet why did Pauline look happier than me?
I swallowed dryly and forced a smile.
"It's… truly, a magnificent gift."
Footmen brought horses for us.
"Far too grand a rehab facility for me."
The real issue: it wasn't for beginners practicing walking—it was a pro arena with top-tier obstacles and facilities.
And the horses weren't pony-ride level like in Jeju.
"Lipizzaners! The finest steeds, befitting Your Majesty's skill!"
No, I'm serious right now.
Pauline mounted gracefully with the footman's help.
Not a standard saddle where legs straddle both sides stably, but a sidesaddle—legs together on one side, balancing solely with waist and core.
"Your Majesty?"
Yeah, mounting shouldn't be a problem.
I mounted right away with the footman's aid.
Grabbing the reins for balance, the horse moved slowly forward.
"Your Majesty!"
Esterházy cried out urgently at my tilt, but surprisingly, it felt fine.
The sense of freedom, oneness with the horse, the thrill of it moving at my will.
No room for other thoughts. I focused solely on the horse's motion, my balance, my breathing.
Palace politics faded; I lived only in the now.
"This is… fun!"