A Promise Kept and Valentine's Twins
“Empire's duty, huh? You broke our promise, so time for some compensation, right?”
“Mm...”
“What are you thinking about so suddenly?”
“I'm pondering what wish to make.”
“Wish?”
“We promised, remember?”
I held out my pinky to him.
“More true than any treaty of the empire, more sacred than any oath before the Pope—our very first promise, just between us. Forgot already?”
No way.
“The type of man who says one thing and means another?”
Joseph snorted and declared boldly.
“Ha, name your wish.”
“What if I ask for something outrageous?”
“Didn't I promise to hear you out, no matter what?”
Oh, that pride of yours.
I stood, straightening my clothes.
“Leaving already?”
“You have to rise early tomorrow too. I'll tell you my wish when the time is right.”
One, two.
I gripped the door handle and glanced back.
“Not coming?”
“Where to?”
“The marital bedchamber, obviously.”
With all those absurd rumors flying around, did Joseph really not know?
“Wait a moment.”
We joined hands and stepped out.
“Do you require anything...?”
The footman startled at the sight of me and Joseph together.
The empress who never entered, emerging alongside him—bound to shock anyone.
Or was it the hand-holding?
Whatever. This was the only way to squash those rumors.
“Perhaps your wish is...”
As if.
“Don't say weird things. I'm still thinking about what to wish for.”
“Ahem, understood.”
In the marital bedchamber, we lay down together.
Last time he held back, but maybe I'd test the waters?
“Joseph.”
“Sisi.”
“Did Mother... say anything else, by chance?”
“About what?”
“Empire's duty or whatever...”
That... number one or her? It'll show eventually.
“Empire's duty? She demands that of me every day.”
No, not that.
“You know, that thing.”
Joseph turned toward me, exasperated.
“What are you trying to say? This isn't like you.”
“No special empire's duty talk, right?”
“So what is this empire's duty?”
Argh, damn it. Saying it outright makes me feel so petty.
Mistress! Royal mistress!
Eugenie said it's normal.
‘Elisabeth, you'll understand after your pregnancy, but do you know they use the emperor's health as an excuse to appoint an official mistress? That's just how it is in these circles. It hurts my feelings, but as empress, I turn a blind eye for the empire's stability. What choice do I have?’
Joseph just turned twenty-six last month—a man in his prime, full of vigor.
A royal mistress is only natural.
Better to arrange one discreetly than risk scandal with some clueless maid or brothel girl.
With my pregnancy and purification rites, it's been nearly a year without touch.
Ah, whatever.
I'll end up looking like some jealous wife with a complex.
“Forget it. Just stay still.”
“Sisi? Elisabeth!”
***
During work, Joseph recalled last night.
Such a method exists.
He was still puzzled.
Only then did he realize what Sisi had been trying to say.
Mother wouldn't assign me a royal mistress.
Sophie Archduchess had shaped him into a soldier of absolute morality and a Catholic emperor of restraint.
To her, a mistress wasn't a necessary evil for the empire's stability—it was a rock undermining the court's factions, eroding the emperor's authority, pure corruption.
She might even dread a third woman creating new power.
In his view, Sisi's changed demeanor this pregnancy—unlike the last—was due to her Paris trip.
French and Russian courts were notoriously messy, unlike Austria's hidden secrets—unlike their métresse-en-titre or Russian favorites paraded openly.
Whatever the case, Sisi's consideration let Joseph briefly escape daily woes and find peace.
“Your Majesty. You must rest.”
I rubbed my temples and sighed.
“I really didn't.”
“Your Majesty, the rumors are already all over the palace.”
So unjust I could stomp my feet.
“I said, nothing happened.”
“We have proof.”
Esterházy's eyes narrowed.
“Surely you didn't... like some brothel woman.”
Not having sex, yet compared to a brothel girl?
“Fine, I did. Happy?”
“That's how you must answer.”
“You know that's not true.”
“Of course. If you'd consummated, it wouldn't be this messy.”
Oh, right. Esterházy was married once.
“Your Majesty must never perform services. Affirm it positively, as you did. Reckless and unhealthy perhaps, but it's the marital realm. Your dignity remains intact.”
But pondering it, something felt off.
“Seems I wasn't taught bedroom etiquette.”
“You should have learned in Bavaria.”
Ah, that was it?
“Did His Majesty learn separately?”
“His tutor would have taught him.”
I see.
“Chief Lady-in-Waiting.”
“Yes?”
“Did you...”
“It was a political marriage for me.”
Ah, got it.
Still so much to learn as empress.
“Most court ladies know. No need for Your Majesty to discuss it beforehand.”
So noblewomen do it too.
Just can't admit it for face.
Ah, she mentioned brothels on purpose.
A warning—other ladies might demean you that way, so beware.
“I'd be lost without my Chief Lady-in-Waiting countless times.”
“An honor, Your Majesty.”
Why are the maids taking so long with food?
“Your Majesty.”
Hm?
“What's wrong?”
“If it displeased you so, why make that choice?”
“What choice?”
“You've been washing your hands all day.”
That...
“You're in your prime. Just in case, you know?”
Can't help the unease.
Never thought much of it before.
“His Majesty the Emperor!”
Who?
Esterházy straightened and performed the Hofknicks for the emperor.
Joseph entered my room, smiling at me.
“Come to keep my promise.”
Promise?
Joseph gauged my reaction.
“We promised to dine together sometimes, right?”
Oh, right. That was the promise.
Why glance at me like that?
“Worried you'd forgotten, Your Majesty.”
Sorry. Remembered the promise, forgot the details.
Joseph beamed and sat opposite me.
“Should sit beside me.”
Didn't we eat like that before?
“Your Majesty, ‘dining together sometimes’ means living together as usual.”
“...Not just meals?”
Ha, his pure approach made my worries seem foolish.
“Meals and official events alone? That's a circus.”
Show-window couple.
Most are like that, thanks to Catholic no-divorce doctrine.
...Elisabeth and Joseph were too.
Joseph eyed me with concern.
“Lost your appetite?”
“I'm fine.”
Sometimes knowledge is a curse.
I cut steak, forced a savoring expression.
“How about theater together after so long?”
“I'm pregnant.”
“Then summon actors here.”
“No thanks. Same old Greek tragedies.”
“What about your Frankenstein patron? Truth be told, I've found Greek tragedies dull lately.”
“...Really?”
“If fate exists, we wouldn't have met.”
He'd finished eating, wiped his mouth.
“You're the fate I chose.”
...That's tragedy's start.
“Fine. Theater it is.”
I forced a smile.
Noticing my gloom, Joseph cut steak and placed it gently on my plate.
“Eat more. Heard pregnant women need portions for two.”
He fumbled awkwardly with the fork.
“Pfft.”
He's skilled usually—how often does an emperor serve another's plate?
His care eased my pent-up frustration.
“Thanks.”
I ate the piece he'd cut.
“Joseph.”
“Listening.”
“Just calling your name.”
“Just calling?”
Joseph chuckled, amused.
“Why? Can't call His Emperor Majesty when bored?”
“Not anyone else. You're the empress.”
“Lucky me. I'll call when bored from now on, Joshy.”
The nickname made him cough awkwardly.
“But Joshy.”
I speared the steak piece with my fork.
“The ones you cut taste better.”
“Do they?”
His face brightened subtly.
“Were you meal duty in the army? Such precise knife work.”
“A compliment?”
Joseph furrowed his brow.
Unclear if praise or tease.
“Of course. So vigorous.”
“Sisi!”
Realizing the tease, he called lowly.
“Okay, okay.”
I laughed, popping meat in.
“But thanks. Maybe ‘cause you gave it—tastier than before.”
He shook his head helplessly, yet smiled.
“Oh, the theater—after I give birth, okay?”
“Agreed.”
I set down utensils, wiggled my pinky.
“By the way, not my wish. You said it first.”
Joseph eyed my playful gesture, then smiled faintly, deflated.
“Understood, Sisi.”
February 14, 1857.
St. Valentine's Day brought double joy to the Habsburgs.
I'd borne one son, one daughter.
“...All that gloom's gone.”
Refreshing, happy vibe.
Humans are slaves to hormones, huh.
Thought the Wittelsbach curse skipped me.
Ludwig II, deposed with insanity diagnosis.
His brother Otto, same.
Wittelsbachs famed for beauties, but also depression, extremes, mental instability suspicions.
Come to think, felt this with Sophie too.
“They say first is hardest, but second was tougher.”