Incognito in Pest
Sinking deep into the coffee-stained headboard of the bed, I read the letter he'd sent once more.
To my angel.
I had wanted to meet you in person and speak directly, but I heard you'd left for Hungary. As you said, Wilhelm didn't attend. I suppose we must shift Prussia's priorities as you wish.
Sometimes I feel jealous. It seems you achieve what I cannot even with the emperor's authority, simply by existing. They call you Hungary's lover, don't they? Hearing that twists something inside me—I'll toss and turn tonight because of it. Please take care of yourself. Remember that before you're Hungary's lover, you're my wife. Your one and only husband.
Not a bad start.
Only someone who's experienced it firsthand would get it.
I let out a short snort and directed my gaze downward.
The stiff talk about the German question had shifted to Hungary, and the tone softened subtly.
Hah… I miss him too.
A sudden ache tugged at a corner of my heart.
I climbed down from the bed, sat at the desk, and picked up a pen.
Time to write a reply.
To my one and only stubborn Majesty.
You must be exhausted from the trip to Frankfurt. At least wandering around somewhere offers a bit of rest. It's a shame about Wilhelm. They've made their choice, and the past won't return. Don't take their calls of "Hungary's lover" too much to heart.
He deliberately introduced his name in the Western European style to make me call him Andrássy affectionately. But don't worry. As you said, I'm your wife before I'm Hungary's lover. But Joseph, don't you forget that you're my husband before you're the emperor of the empire. Tonight, I'll drift to sleep using the longing you sent as my lullaby. Please take care of your health. Your stubbornness pains my heart at times, but your love remains the sole sanctuary that lets me breathe. Your eternal angel, Elisabeth.
I sealed it and approached the window.
Across the Danube, the lights of Pest burned bright, debating tomorrow's freedoms without end, but quiet Buda, where I stood, was still.
It resembled Vienna's Hofburg Palace, the place I'd so desperately wanted to escape.
"Budapest…."
Was Buda first, or Pest? The empress in me, or the human?
Andrássy had said Buda came first. He'd whispered that my mere presence crowned their aspirations.
I'd have to live as the empress. For life. It was a life I hadn't chosen, but looking back, it wasn't so bad.
Thanks to the imperial care, the children could grow up without worry.
'Remember that you're my wife.'
His heartfelt confession of love both sustained me and formed the bars of the prison called duty.
"Empress Elisabeth… and Sissi."
Who did he love? The partner working for the empire, or the Sissi who was his refuge? Probably even Joseph himself didn't know.
"Yep, definitely pregnant. Every time, it's like this."
With data from five pregnancies, nothing confirmed it more surely for me.
I returned to bed, stroked my still-flat belly, and rang the bell.
"Tomorrow, I want to sightsee the city. Just casually dressed."
"Understood."
The road back to Vienna was long, but Pest was close.
As night deepened, I grew sentimental for no reason.
On a night without Joseph when sleep wouldn't come, better to force it.
The next morning, the back gate of Buda Palace opened quietly.
Instead of a lavish silk dress, I wore a plain cotton one fit for a middle-class woman, topped with a floppy hat that shrouded my face.
"Hunyadi, how do I look? No one will recognize me, right?"
Even asking made me cringe. As if layers of clothes could hide this face.
"Yes, no one will recognize Your Majesty."
Eh…? Hunyadi's confident reply left me flustered instead.
Was that a compliment?
"Alright, I'll trust you on that."
I nodded awkwardly, fiddling with the hat brim. Fortunately, the thick fog blanketing the Danube made an excellent screen.
"Miss, watch your step."
Hunyadi naturally supported me as she whispered.
"I'm fine."
I wasn't just any empress—I was a soul who'd been through it all.
As we entered Pest, the air changed.
Smooth roads gave way to winding alleys, walls plastered with faded Hungarian posters.
Vendors' lively calls, the scent of fresh bread, occasional sharp whistles.
The streets teemed with police in Austrian uniforms.
They scanned passersby with occupier-like glares.
"Lily, why so many police?"
"Vienna's on edge because of the Polish uprising."
Aha. Scared the passive resistance might spark something.
"Let's grab some coffee."
Time to listen in closely. Hunyadi ordering wouldn't draw eyes.
"The corner table."
Hunyadi pointed familiarly ahead and led me to a secluded spot.
While she ordered fluently in Hungarian, I peeked around the café from under my brim.
Patrons held newspapers, but their eyes fixed outside, not on the print.
Anxious gazes.
"…Heard the news? Another clash near Warsaw."
I perked up at the voice from the next table.
"Russians or Austrians—same difference."
Their eyes flicked our way, noted the plain-dressed women, and lost interest.
"Lord Deák Ferenc still says to wait. Stick to the line we won't yield within the law. But the young blood boils. With Poland spilling blood like that!"
"I'd love to rush over and slit Russian throats… but Lord Deák's right. Move now, and it'll be another '48."
Then Hunyadi carefully set steaming coffee cups before me.
"It's been a while."
In Vienna, mornings meant only milk-foamed Melange or whipped-cream Einspänner.
An empress drinking stark black coffee? Undignified, they'd say.
"Ever tried coffee like this?"
I lifted the cup under her worried gaze. One sip: intense bitterness stung my tongue, heavy body filled my mouth.
Worlds apart from the sugary, creamy slop at Hofburg. This caffeine jolt straight to the veins.
"Mmm… delicious."
Genuine admiration burst out. Modern soul approved—Americano all the way.
"Pekete… delicious? You're the first."
Hunyadi stared like I'd praised sewage.
"Vienna coffee's too sweet. Turns my head fuzzy."
"That's the noble taste. This is for market laborers."
She glanced around, lowering her voice.
"Artists love this stuff too."
They just haven't tried the good spots.
Then the café door slammed open, boots thudding in.
"Inspection! IDs out, everyone!"
The peaceful air froze. Students hastily pocketed papers; chatting patrons clammed up.
Police prowled tables, demanding papers aggressively.
"Hey, student. What's in the bag? Seditious pamphlets?"
"Just schoolbooks!"
Sheesh. These guys maintaining order in Joseph's name were tanking his reputation.
"Can't stand by."
"Your Majesty, please don't."
Hunyadi grabbed my sleeve, whispering urgently.
I knew.
Reveal myself as empress here? Instant scandal headache.
"Let's go."
We rose quietly.
Hunyadi gripped my arm, hurrying to the door. But before I touched the handle, a rough hand blocked us.
"Where you running? Sit!"
Foul booze breath hit my nose. Drinking on duty?
"Inspection's not over. ID."
As if an empress carried papers. Pathetic.
"The lady's just here for tea. And you're being awfully rude to a gentlewoman."
Hunyadi stepped forward firmly.
"Gentlewoman? What Hungarian bitch is a lady? You look suspicious—are you with those guys?"
His filthy hand reached for my shoulder—
Thwack.
A burly hand from nowhere seized his wrist.
"Agh! Let go!"
The man, who'd seemed a regular, leaned to the cop's ear and whispered softly.
The drunk-red face drained to ghost-white.
As he trembled like a leaf, gaping at me, the guard pressed a finger to his lips—silence.
Tsk tsk. Think I'd wander without protection?
As the café buzzed in confusion, we slipped out smoothly.
"Lily, head back. Ruined my tea time."
Wrecking my outing and laying hands on my maid.
At Buda Palace, I tossed my hat to a maid and commanded coldly.
"Esterházy, summon Pest's security chief immediately."
"What reason shall I give?"
"Say nothing—just that the empress commands it."