The Emperor Doesn't Know His Wife's Heart
If only I'd realized just a little later, I wouldn't have had to worry about this.
"If I'd known it would be like this, I would've done better from the start."
"Pardon?"
"Nothing." I placed my index finger to my lips, signaling to Esterházy to keep it secret. She nodded in understanding.
Hmm, she'd probably given me an earful for an hour or two. 'Muttering to yourself is a sign of an unstable mind. If the servants hear, they'll doubt Her Majesty's mental state. You must maintain your dignity. As one of the two pillars of the empire...' I'd heard it so many times whenever I slipped on etiquette that I could probably recite it as well as she could by now.
The carriage came to a stop, and the guard opened the door. Joseph descended the stairs and personally escorted me down.
"Tsk."
"Your Majesty. Aren't you embarrassed?" I whispered as I took his hand and stepped down. It was something we only did back in our newlywed days.
"It's been a long time since we've been apart for so long after our marriage."
Is that so...? Yeah, I guess it is. We usually spent time together even during pregnancies.
The moment we entered the room and the door clicked shut...
"Joseph!" I yelped in surprise. This man, really.
His thick hands wrapped around my waist and slid downward like silk. He always insisted I wear a crinoline, but when I didn't, he loved it the most. I smacked the back of his hand as it kneaded my backside.
"Hands off."
We hadn't seen each other in months, and he was ravenous. No wonder he'd kept the maids away.
"...Sisi."
Joseph gazed at me with moist eyes.
"Why that look?"
"You tempted me first."
Me? When did I?
"I did?"
Was there any moment on the way here that could've been tempting?
"I just got out of the carriage, walked up the stairs, and came into the room."
If it's a crime, the only one is walking.
Joseph's gaze drifted downward. It couldn't be because I skipped the crinoline.
"You've seen me like this plenty of times."
It's not the first time today I've gone without it.
"Back then, it was because of the baby in your belly."
"I wore it like this in Milan too."
"That time... there were other reasons."
Oh, come on.
"And every time you walked, you... "
Joseph touched his flushed ears and trailed off, unable to finish.
What about the way I walked?
"Anyway, you tempted me first."
No, seriously, when?
"No, really. My whole body aches like it's been crushed."
"...You made that sound because it hurt?"
"What sound...? Don't tell me you mistook my groans of pain."
I was already struggling to hold back screams from every muscle.
"No, no. Of course not."
No my foot—you just said I was tempting you!
They say dreams are for interpretation, but he'd mistaken my bone-deep aches and grunts for moans while holding his hand?
"The Emperor of the Empire can't tell pain from temptation."
At my jab, Joseph's flush spread from his ears to his neck. He looked wronged, his lips twitching before he reluctantly released my waist with a fake cough.
"It's been so long since I've seen you... I must not have been in my right mind."
My gait was definitely off...
Joseph swallowed the rest, offering a wry excuse. I opened the door and called for a maid.
"Bring the box."
The least I could do. I handed it to him.
"A gift."
"A gift?"
He opened the box to reveal a scarf I'd knitted myself.
"I made it myself."
"You did?"
Why does no one believe I knitted it? The maids were the same—stunned when I said I'd do it.
"Should I sell these scarves in Hungary, then?"
I pulled out the scarf: black background with a golden eagle, the colors and symbol of the Austrian Empire. No way it'd sell in Hungary. I slowly wrapped it around his neck.
"It's summer now, but..."
It suits him well. Then I tugged the ends, pulling him closer.
Mwah.
As our lips parted, I whispered to his dazed gaze, "...This is temptation, Yosha."
Joseph's eyes widened noticeably. This side of him was sometimes comical, sometimes endearing.
"You really... drive a man mad."
He carefully touched the scarf around his neck. A black wool one in midsummer—any sane person would toss it, but not Joseph. His rough fingers traced my every stitch...
Was it so thrilling that I'd thought of him while knitting in Hungary? Well, the mere fact that I'd knitted it might be more miraculous to him than passing the national budget.
"It's summer; it'll be hot. Why not take it off?"
As I tugged the end, he grabbed my hand.
"It's your first handmade gift."
"Mine?"
That's not right.
"The portrait in your office? I gave you that. The saddle too. The first button on your uniform—that was from me."
I distinctly remembered gifts for anniversaries, birthdays, Christmases.
"The portrait... I approved it. The saddle was bought from a Viennese craftsman."
He fiddled with the button.
"This was picked by Countess Esterházy. You just signed the papers."
...How'd he know?
Joseph toyed with the scarf's end like a child.
"I mean a gift with your heart in it."
"My heart was always in them."
Out of friendship, sure.
"But this is different. You held the needle, chose the yarn... spent that long time thinking of me."
Seeing his blue eyes draw near, I shifted the mood.
"It only took half a day."
His shoulders visibly slumped at my bucket of cold water. The Emperor disappointed over knitting time? I barely stifled a laugh.
Joseph fiddled with the end again, looking aggrieved.
"Take it off quick. Wandering around in midsummer with a wool scarf? You'll hear rumors the Emperor's gone mad from war."
Exhausting. I perched on the bed's edge; he sat naturally beside me.
"Yosha."
"Hm?"
"The Hungarians don't know you're such a softie."
His hand paused at my question. He kissed my nape briefly and murmured low.
"As long as you know, who cares if others do."
His voice blended imperial dignity with husbandly possessiveness. Feeling his hot breath, I realized again.
"Come with me."
"Where?"
"Your office."
You're lingering here instead of working.
"If you'll come... I'd be grateful."
He took my hand and stood. Before leaving, he glanced in the mirror, sighed regretfully, and removed the scarf for his office.
Count Grüne waited anxiously outside, bowing hastily at our sight.
"Your Majesty, Your Majesty the Empress."
"Kept you waiting, Grüne."
Joseph's voice held no trace of his earlier flushed ears. He escorted me inside, pulling my usual armchair to the window like always.
It's fascinating. Joseph never sits at the desk. He stood at the tall standing desk in the room's center, quill in hand.
"Your legs don't hurt?"
I sank deep into the armchair and asked. He glanced over.
"I'm used to it. Sitting makes the mind lazy."
"Grüne, hear that? He says I'm the lazy one."
Grüne looked like he might faint. He couldn't contradict the Emperor or ignore the Empress's jest—caught between a rock and a hard place.
"Sisi, I'd never say that about you."
His rigid back curved slightly. Teasing him was fun.
Joseph changed the subject.
"Grüne, have you sorted the petitions from the Hungarian magnates?"
His excited tone had cooled.
"Yes, Your Majesty. Most claim innocence after the Times article and seek the court's protection."
"Innocence. Fingered as slave owners by the British, now they miss the Emperor's embrace."
I gazed out the window, passing time to the rhythm of Joseph's approvals.
"Sisi, bored?"
"No, I'm fine."
The office reeked of Joseph's scent—heavy and distinctive.
A while later, he asked again.
"Sisi, bored?"
No time for boredom. Eyes on the window, I caught document titles and his brief exchanges with Grüne, gauging his direction.
"Don't worry about me. Take your time. Watching you work is entertaining enough."
He dove back into approvals. But something was off. He set down the quill, fiddled with a small box on the desk, stole glances at me by the window, and cleared his throat.
"Sisi, you looked pale earlier. Maybe rest in your room? Or a garden stroll..."
"Yosha."
I turned and stared.
"Why keep trying to send me away? Am I in the way?"
"No, never. Just worried you're overdoing it."
He waved flustered hands and grabbed the quill. But his eyes flicked to the desk drawer, then back to me.
"The children miss you."
I stood. He visibly relaxed. Eager to shoo me out—must be important talk. Before leaving, I turned.
"From tonight, I'll sleep in my room."
Separate beds it is.