The Foot-Washing Ceremony
"Your Majesty, how would you like to handle this year's foot-washing ceremony?"
Just hearing it makes me want to bail.
"Inform Cardinal Rauscher that I won't be attending."
Esterházy seemed half-resigned as she let it slide.
Foot-washing ceremony? What century is this?
"I hear Queen Victoria of England just hands out a few coins and calls it a day."
My lips pursed in a pout.
"She invites as many people as her age and gives them money? Now that's a sensible idea."
They say jealousy means you've lost, but damn, I'm insanely envious.
France skips it altogether and does a charity event instead, right?
Why do we Habsburgs cling so stubbornly to outdated Spanish customs...?
Why not do it like Bourbon France back in the day?
Then Joseph could wash just thirteen feet by himself and be done.
"Your Majesty."
Esterházy turned back, as if something had just occurred to her.
"Is there more?"
"Instead of the kiss, perhaps just bowing your head...?"
Ugh, that's the part I hate.
Why on earth do they want to watch me wash their feet anyway? I kept showing my reluctance, so Esterházy tried to persuade me.
"Your Majesty, but this time you can't leave for a health retreat."
Whenever these events came up before, I'd use illness as an excuse and head off to some nearby spot.
Hmm, what now?
When Sophie Archduchess had custody, I was free to roam since the kids were already taken from me.
But now that they're under the Empress's palace, I can't just leave the palace empty.
What if I stay in the palace but skip the ceremony?
It wouldn't end with just some criticism.
Cardinal Rauscher would accuse me of defying God's will and launch a religious attack, while the Archduchess would claim I'm neglecting my duties and try to take the children back.
"Chief lady-in-waiting, we'll do as you say."
Pretend to kiss and just bow my head. No choice.
*
Holy Thursday, in the week before Easter.
People gathered in the grand hall of Hofburg Palace for the ceremony.
"Empress."
"Your Majesty."
Even after hearing I'd participate this time, Joseph still acted awkward.
Ugh... why do we even do this?
I walked to the altar amid the nobles' gazes.
Twenty-four carefully selected elderly people sat on the platform.
Twelve grandfathers, twelve grandmothers.
They'd been pre-washed clean, but still...
Let's just get through it.
I bit my lower lip hard.
If I bolted now, the Archduchess would seize the chance to move the kids back to the Emperor's palace.
Cardinal Rauscher would coax Joseph, saying they can't grow up under immoral parents.
"Dominus vobiscum..."
While Joseph washed the grandfathers' feet amid the cardinal's long, boring Latin prayer, I stole a glance at the Archduchess in the royal seats.
She stared at me, mouth covered by her fan.
Like she found it odd that I was here.
"Her Majesty's turn."
Esterházy handed me the silver basin and towel.
I knelt as slowly as possible.
Smile gently like a saint, they said.
I wiped the wrinkled feet and slowly bent my waist.
Took a deep breath, stopping at a precarious distance just shy of my nose touching.
Lifted my head and exhaled the held breath.
Next, and next.
For twelve grueling rounds, I moved like a machine.
Pour water, wipe, bow.
When I finally stood after the last old woman's feet, relief washed over me.
Cardinal Rauscher confirmed I'd finished and offered the final prayer.
With the hellish rite over, I extended my hand to Joseph.
As he took it and we exited the hall, the lined-up nobles performed the Hofknicks and watched our departure.
The moment the massive doors closed and we escaped the stares,
I let go of Joseph's hand.
Lamberg, waiting as if on cue, handed me a fresh handkerchief and water.
I took a sip, rinsed, and spat into the prepared bowl.
Ptooey.
It didn't touch, but still gross. Joseph wiped his mouth the same way.
"I really should read the Bible sometime."
"What do you mean by that?"
Joseph asked with a baffled look.
"It said wash their feet, not kiss them."
No matter how I think about it, doing this every year is just too sad.
"It's an expression of humility and respect."
"Respect is from the heart. Not the lips."
We took hands again and walked.
"I don't recall any verse where Jesus kissed his disciples' feet while washing them."
"I'll have to ask Cardinal Rauscher."
"Don't. He'd insist, 'Even if it's not written, reading between the lines with the eyes of the heart means he kissed them.'"
Joseph couldn't argue and let out a chuckle.
"You might be right. My teacher can be too strict sometimes."
"Not strict— inflexible."
I wiped my mouth with the handkerchief and sighed.
"But you pulled it off. Mother must think there's nothing to criticize."
Joseph comforted me, arm around my shoulders.
Because I endured it on purpose.
"Nothing to criticize? The chief lady-in-waiting was giving me side-eye the whole time."
"Isn't that just the Lord Chamberlain's professional spirit?"
"Anyway... next year, I'm bringing the actual Bible and debating it."
"An empress arguing Bible verses in front of the cardinal. First in imperial history."
Joseph laughed like it was amusing, but I was serious.
Honestly, I'd wiped soldiers' rotting arms on the front lines—washing old folks' feet wasn't hard.
If not for the forehead kiss on the instep, I wouldn't have minded much.
Back at the Empress's palace, time for another tooth-brushing.
"Um, Empress..."
Hm?
"Got a request?"
"I received a letter from your sister."
...What?
Why are you and my sister exchanging letters?
"You know that sounds super suspicious, right?"
Exchanging letters behind the back of the sister who was supposed to be empress?
It was an adult decision without emotions between us, but still.
If she wants to contact, shouldn't it go through me? No need to go directly.
It's not like you two never wrote before.
Joseph isn't just any noble. Sending a letter directly to the emperor—without my knowledge...
"Don't misunderstand."
Joseph laughed heartily, amused.
"The King of Bavaria opposes the marriage to Duke Thurn und Taxis. Says it's not a match."
"...My sister?"
"So he petitioned me, the Emperor, to vouch for the family's status. Probably sent it directly to me so you wouldn't get hurt or object."
Why tell me this?
"How about a trip home?"
"To Bavaria?"
"With Sophie and Gisela."
"What about Rudolf?"
"He's the crown prince."
Too tricky for Rudolf, huh.
I couldn't guess how much effort Joseph put in, but it must've been considerable.
Unlike Hungary, Bavaria had the full stature of a kingdom's capital.
To top it off, plague rumors still trickled from Hungary.
Unlike imperial tours, Lake Starnberg with its Poschenhofen was a natural retreat even the Bavarian king and queen used.
"Then we'll need to prepare the procession."
Joseph handed me a letter from his pocket.
"Here—deliver this. If the empress shows the emperor's permission herself, even the King of Bavaria can't keep refusing."
Esterházy carefully took Joseph's letter.
Now, what to prepare?
Unlike my fake-illness escapes, this was practically an official delegation.
Just in case, bring Schoda; Sophie loves Ida's voice, so her too.
Guards and messengers are basics; at least four beauty maids and wardrobe staff to uphold my dignity. Above all, nursemaids for little Sophie and Gisela.
Then kids' supplies too?
The luggage will be massive.
I calculated the route in my head and spoke.
"Better take the steamer to Passau? Carriages would tire the kids."
Back in the bedroom, I waited to see Joseph off.
Huh? Not leaving?
The maids and valets had already turned away.
Ah, right.
I approached Joseph cautiously and whispered.
"Not tonight."
He stared at me, shocked.
Like he'd never considered rejection.
"Are you unwell?"
"No, not that... but..."
I trailed off and said goodbye.
"See you in the bedroom later. Work hard today."
I left the dazed Joseph and hurried to my room.
We did the foot-washing. Kinda puts me off tonight.
No matter how clean they say, it's just... eww for me.
"Prepare a bath. Scalding hot, lots of scented oil."
Gotta scrub hard today.
*
We were steaming away from Vienna on the steamer when Sophie spotted the prototype locomotive.
"Mommy! Look! Mommy train!"
Mommy train?
What?
I set down my teacup and looked where Sophie pointed.
Oh, right. The Western Railway's official name was after me.
Too embarrassing, so I ordered it called just Western Railway in the palace and forgot.
To Sophie, with my name on it, it makes sense.
"Sophie, that's not Mommy's. It belongs to the joint-stock company."
Sophie looked shocked, like a kid learning Santa's fake.
"Not Mommy's?"
Sophie, capitalism is a cruel world.
Mommy's not the majority shareholder yet.