Lost in Sentiment
At the close of 1887, the House of Hohenzollern at last had cause to celebrate.
Sophie's wedding, postponed by the Crown Prince's sudden death, the state funeral, and the uneasy mood that had settled over the country, was finally to be held.
Sophie, usually so bright and full of life, wore a faintly melancholy look as the day drew near.
"What's with the long face? You're about to become a bride."
"I was thinking of Father."
Waldemar understood. The thought of Crown Prince Friedrich sat heavily on his own heart as well.
Sophie attended a Lutheran service in keeping with tradition, then sat for photographs with the family. After the sitting came the fitting of the tiara.
Waldemar had commissioned several beautiful tiaras for his sister and left the choice to Victoria. Sophie studied each one the Crown Princess set before her and selected a piece whose ornaments were light and fresh, something that suited her. With Victoria's help she added a necklace, earrings, a bracelet, and a brooch. When the veil was settled over her hair and the gloves drawn on, the transformation was complete.
Even Princess Charlotte, who had never been on the best of terms with Sophie, could not help admiring her sister's appearance.
"Sophie, I hardly recognize you. You look beautiful."
"Compliments at this hour won't get you anything."
Sophie grumbled, but her sister's praise had clearly pleased her; her expression brightened a little.
With the Crown Princess and her ladies-in-waiting to assist her, Sophie reviewed the terms of the marriage contract once more and checked the inventory of her trousseau and dowry. The family gathered around her and talked for a long while before attending the evening banquet prepared by the Bavarian court.
Ludwig III of Bavaria, Ruprecht's father, was present with his family. Prince Heinrich — representing the Hohenzollern men, as Wilhelm had been unable to attend owing to Wilhelm I's failing health — and Prince George, who had come from Britain, offered their thanks for Bavaria's hospitality.
"We are about to be family. There is no need for such formality."
"You are very kind, Your Highness."
Of course, a single marriage was never going to dissolve the old grudges between Bavaria and Prussia. Waldemar did what he could, striking up conversation with the Wittelsbachs at every opportunity and trying to warm the air between them.
"My friends and my family all call me Waldi. If it wouldn't be an imposition, I should like you to do the same."
"Once we grow accustomed to one another, we shall."
The dinner still carried a certain distance, and with it the eve of the wedding passed.
The next morning dawned on the wedding itself, and Sophie hurried through her toilette. With Victoria and the ladies-in-waiting to help her, she gathered her hair into a neat half-up arrangement near the crown. She wore no fringe; the sides were swept behind her ears, and the back fell in a long, rounded coil of spiral curls. Orange blossoms were pinned at the gathering, and a tulle veil was set over the tiara.
Her gown was of pure white silk, cut with a high neckline and a collar of Brussels lace, the long sleeves and bodice trimmed in lace and pleats. Earrings hung at her ears; splendid jewels circled her wrists and throat. She wore long white kid gloves and buttoned boots, and in her hands she carried a bouquet dressed with beautiful flowers. Last of all came a train a full five meters in length. Fearing her daughter might take a chill, Victoria settled a cloak of silver velvet over her shoulders.
"Sophie, your father would have been so proud if he could have seen you."
"I think he would have."
"Be happy — if only for his sake."
Victoria wiped her eyes as she sent her daughter on her way.
"I promise."
Sophie waited her turn in the palace reception hall, then took her brother Heinrich's hand and entered the chapel.
Her Royal Highness Princess Sophie Dorothea Ulrike Alice of Prussia!
As Sophie entered, every guest rose to receive her. She came down the aisle on Heinrich's arm, advancing toward her bridegroom. Ruprecht awaited them in the full-dress uniform of the Bavarian Guard. He took Sophie's hand from Heinrich, and the ceremony began.
After a service conducted according to the Bavarian rite, the priest put the questions of the marriage vow to the pair.
"Prince Ruprecht Maria Luitpold Ferdinand, will you take Princess Sophie Dorothea Ulrike Alice as your wife for the whole of your life?"
"I will."
"Princess Sophie Dorothea Ulrike Alice, will you take Prince Ruprecht Maria Luitpold Ferdinand as your husband for the whole of your life?"
"I will."
Even Sophie, who was ordinarily so self-possessed, grew uncharacteristically shy before so grave a step as marriage. The vows given, they exchanged rings and received the blessing.
I hereby declare that these two are joined in holy matrimony.
The prince and princess bowed gravely to their guests. Unlike an ordinary wedding, they did not kiss. Given the rigid character of a royal marriage, such a liberty was almost unthinkable — and Ruprecht was not the man to take it.
They signed the marriage register, and when every formality was complete, a salute of guns rang out. Beneath the music of the Guard's band, the road to the palace ran thick with flower petals. Waldemar had prepared blossoms of his own for his sister, and a ceaseless rain of them fell over the prince and princess. He watched Sophie answer the crowd's cheers with a wave of her hand.
The procession that followed the couple soon passed into the Munich Residenz, the ancestral seat of the House of Wittelsbach. In the banqueting hall the pair received a toast from Prince Luitpold, the regent and Bavaria's ruler in all but name. There Ruprecht offered his thanks to the Hohenzollerns who had come.
After Ruprecht's address, the envoys of the other European courts offered their congratulations in turn. When the wedding ceremonies were formally concluded, the banquet began. Unlike the wedding itself, the meal was not bound by stiff protocol.
"I can breathe again. These people are more conservative than we are."
Heinrich said it over his glass.
"Surely not. No one on earth is more conservative than Willy."
Heinrich laughed at Waldemar's joke.
"That's true enough."
Through the meal the two families talked more easily than they had the night before. The wedding banquet flowed naturally into a court ball for the unmarried nobility who had come for the occasion. The first dance belonged to the day's principals, Sophie and Ruprecht.
Waldemar watched them for a time, then, hoping to soften the atmosphere a little further, asked Alix's leave to invite the Bavarian princesses — princesses in all but the strictest title — to dance.
"What? Absolutely not."
Alix started as if she had been struck. There were many things she could tolerate, but another woman's hand on Waldemar was not among them.
"It's necessary."
"But—"
"When we get back to Berlin, I'll make it up to you. Anything you want."
Alix wrestled with herself for a long moment under that persuasion, then nodded with visible difficulty.
"One dance. Only one."
Having won Alix's consent, Waldemar asked Adelgunde and Maria Ludwiga of Bavaria to dance, each in her turn. The two unmarried princesses, hearing a request from a man whose name carried such weight in society, hesitated.
"Are you quite sure you wish to dance with us?"
"Alix doesn't mind."
The word that his fiancée had given her blessing ended their hesitation at once.
"Then we should be delighted."
Waldemar, after all his seasons in society with Alix, had come to think of himself as a rather accomplished dancer. That opinion, unfortunately, was his alone. He was no match for two princesses who had spent years honing their skill for a debut. He could barely keep their time. Only then did he understand the gulf between himself and a true professional. If he had ever seemed graceful, it was only because his partner had been Alix, who was even greener than he was.
Waldemar looked a little abashed, but the two princesses offered him kind words.
"Even so, it was a pleasure to dance with Your Highness."
Waldemar's effort had loosened the room. Heinrich and George each took a princess for a turn as well. Fortunately, Heinrich danced every bit as well as the Bavarian ladies.
"Princess, may I have this dance?"
"If you wish it."
From the Bavarian side, Prince Karl, the second son, came forward and danced with Margarethe, Prussia's youngest princess. As the royals of both houses paired off in succession, the ball drew to a close in an atmosphere that was, all things considered, genuinely warm.
When the dancing ended, the guests departed, and only the nearest family remained to take their last farewells.
"Sophie, don't fret too much about the bridal chamber."
"That's your sort of worry, not mine."
"I try to be kind and all I get is a scolding."
Sophie turned last to Waldemar.
"Well. I suppose this means I'll be a grown woman before you are."
"Grown or not, you're still my little sister."
Waldemar kept the talk light, hoping to ease her nerves. Sophie spoke with him a little longer, then, urged on by her ladies, caught up her skirts.
"I should go. I think I've kept them waiting."
"Go on, then."
Waldemar watched his sister leave for the bridal chamber with her ladies, and a complicated feeling settled over him. In this life, at least, Sophie would never have to endure the hostility of the Greek people, never be driven from a country and left to wander in misery — and yet the knowledge that he was truly giving his sister away tangled with that relief until he could not have named what he felt.
Victoria saw the look in his eyes and spoke as if to comfort him.
"Waldi. Don't worry so over Sophie. That girl knows how to look after herself."
Waldemar stood among the sisters who were not yet married and looked for a long time at the door through which Sophie had gone. As if she understood the tangle in his heart, Alix quietly took his hand. The sudden warmth of her small white fingers made him realize something.
Sophie had left his side. But Alix was still here. She was the woman who would remain with him for years to come — his wife-to-be.
Waldemar closed his hand firmly over hers, as if he meant never to let her go.