Ja, Ich Will
Joseph Schoda led Countess Esterházy-Lichtenstein out of the empress's bedroom and toward the small reception room. Only after confirming the door had closed behind them did he speak. "Madness, Countess." His voice was raw. "Her Majesty the Empress needs absolute rest right now. Riding in a carriage in that condition is like pushing a patient over the edge. What if she vomits on the road or passes out again? Don't you know that would be an even greater scandal?"
But Countess Esterházy showed not a flicker of doubt. If anything, a faint satisfaction with the empress's recent display lingered in her eyes. "For the first time today, Her Majesty put the empire's duties before her own well-being. That's not a scandal—it's the first virtue she should show as the Habsburg empress." She met Schoda's gaze squarely. "And your duty as the imperial physician is to make that noble obligation possible. Not to declare it impossible."
Schoda was momentarily stunned into silence. This woman doesn't see the empress as a person—just an actress. And I'm the understudy injecting her with drugs to keep her from collapsing on stage. Realizing further persuasion was pointless, he let out a short sigh. He pulled a small brown glass vial from his pocket and held it before Esterházy's eyes. His angry tone had returned to the cold, dry voice of a physician. "Laudanum. The strongest painkiller there is. But just as dangerous." Without uncorking it, he warned her. "It might dull the pain but cloud the mind and impair judgment. I'll mix exactly three drops in a glass of water right now—give it to Her Majesty yourself."
Schoda didn't hand her the vial. He summoned a maid for water, then dropped precisely three drops into it. "Remember, Countess—this isn't a cure. It's poison that lets you forget the pain for a while." He passed her the teacup with the advice. "I respect Her Majesty's will, but any medical consequences fall squarely on Archduchess Sophie and you."
Esterházy took the cup without a word. Does she care about nothing beyond a 'successful afternoon procession'? The countess gave Schoda a brief curtsy and returned to the empress's bedroom without hesitation. Schoda stared at the closed door, then down at his empty hands. Once more, before Semmelweis's ghost, he bent his convictions.
Countess Esterházy returned with the small teacup. "Medicine to ease Your Majesty's pain. The painkiller Your Majesty requested."
Painkiller? No solid pills like Tylenol yet, huh? I slowly sipped the water she offered. Hmm, no change. My stomach still felt like someone was jabbing it with needles.
"No change, it seems."
"Have no fear, Your Majesty. The physician said it takes a little time for the effect to kick in. It will surely work soon."
Could I take a bit more? Thirty minutes on the clock, and aside from feeling a little drowsy, nothing. "Chief lady-in-waiting."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
"I'm worried there might be delays in the afternoon procession." Right...? Swapped 'I'm sick' to 'the event might be disrupted,' and 'the medicine isn't working' to 'no sign of the pain easing.'
"Please wait just a moment, Your Majesty." Esterházy headed straight to the door without hesitation and ordered the maid outside. "Summon the physician immediately. Tell him Her Majesty must feel no discomfort whatsoever during the afternoon procession."
After issuing the command, she returned. "Since Your Majesty cares so deeply for the empire's tasks, surely God will aid us."
As I rested while reviewing the schedule, Schoda reentered and approached me. "Your Majesty, I heard you called for me."
"Yes, physician. I followed your prescription, but the discomfort lingers."
Seeing I was still drenched in sweat, he warned sternly. "Just one more drop. But no more, even if His Majesty the Emperor commands it."
What kind of painkiller comes with such scary warnings? "From your expression and words, this seems no ordinary medicine." I fixed him with a steady gaze.
"I regret to say, laudanum is a powerful painkiller. There is none stronger."
So what? Get to the point! "Extracted from opium as a tincture—" I desperately swallowed the bile rising in my throat. Opium? You mean the drug? Not on a battlefield—for mere indigestion?
"The afternoon schedule should be fine now." Go away, you quack. Dosing my precious body with drugs like gold and jade? Guess I have no choice but to endure the pain.
"Chief lady-in-waiting. The sunlight is intense today."
Esterházy drew back the canopy and carefully entered the bed. Am I getting used to this a little? "What is it, Your Majesty?"
"I want to prick my finger a bit...."
"I beg your pardon, Your Majesty. I must have misheard."
"Pricking my thumb with a needle might help."
She seemed less bothered by my wording than by my advocacy for outdated medicine. "Bloodletting has already been debunked."
No, no. "Not bloodletting—just a little prick on my thumb to draw blood."
Esterházy barely masked her strained expression. "...For now, let's start with another bath and help with your dressing."
Okay... fine. Can't do it alone anyway. Deeming the talk over, Esterházy flung open the canopy. And so began the bath, dress, jewelry, and makeup all over again. In the mirror, I looked like a frail beauty, slightly worn...
"Your Majesty's condition has already been reported to the others. The route has been shortened as informed, so Your Majesty need only wave."
I tucked away her final advice and boarded the imperial carriage. A landau with no roof, like an extension of the wedding—to show us to the public.
"All right, Sisi?" Whose hand did I hold getting in? Franz Joseph's?
Sounds buzzed distantly, my vision of the crowds blurred. The carriage's jolts made the drug a hindrance; nausea didn't stop. I have to endure. Vomiting or collapsing here ends it all. I stiffened my back rigidly, forcing a soulless smile. Slowly, the greeting I'd practiced all morning. Vienna's citizens cheered us wildly. Petals rained from balconies, military bands and bells rattling my head.
Something brushed my back—I turned to find Franz Joseph closer, supporting me. His brows furrowed faintly at my gaze; he knew I was a mess.
"Almost there. Just a bit longer."
As the carriage turned a corner, he gripped my hand tightly and whispered. If you're so worried, why tell Sophie everything?
Finally, the carriage halted before St. Stephen's Cathedral's west portal. Clutching Franz Joseph's hand, I was all but dragged down.
"You did well, Empress."
Through hazy vision, the massive main doors at the red carpet's end loomed. What kind of cathedral is this huge...? The interior felt steadier—no carriage sickness after all. I drew a deep breath, waved, and stepped forward one foot at a time. What if I ran now? Absurd thoughts swirled as I entered hell's gate. Second wedding already? The first collapsed midway. Socially agreed, but religiously incomplete. Vows before God and saints, priest's final blessing to seal the sacrament.
Doors closed, shutting out the heat. Flickering candlelight from thousands, heavy incense, grand pipe organ. All crushing me alone.
"This way, Your Majesty."
Not Franz Joseph—a voice beside me. An elderly man in ornate red-and-gold uniform. Vienna's archbishop, Cardinal Rauscher? He led us to the altar.
As we stood, the organ ceased; his Latin voice echoed. Incomprehensible words, clear meaning: resuming the interrupted rite. Nobles and envoys from across Europe watched breathlessly. Franz Joseph squeezed my hand firmer—warmth saying I'm here.
Don't make me laugh.
I sneered inwardly. If you were on my side, I wouldn't suffer this.
How much time passed? The cardinal looked to me. "Elisabeth, Empress of Austria. Before the Virgin Mary and all saints, do you swear to love and obey your husband, His Majesty Franz Joseph I, in joy and sorrow, health and sickness, all your life?"
...Swear? Love? Obey?
This mama's boy who let me shiver in betrayal, abandoned to Sophie's abuse? I glanced at Franz Joseph. His innocent face cleared my mind. No escaping anyway.
"Ja, ich will." I'll carve my own freedom. Perfect Elisabeth till the end.
