The Accidental Empress (73 page)

Andrássy, watching her with a look of concern, did not at first notice the difference in her figure. Then his gaze slid down to her waist and after several moments, he made a small noise, a barely audible gasp.

But it was loud enough to cause Sisi’s heart to drop to her stomach.

Andrássy’s mouth fell open. And then, shaking his head, he whispered, “No.”

Sisi stared at him, watching as understanding took root. His shoulders sagged first, before his head dropped into his hands. She stood there, motionless. After several moments he looked up at her.

“Well, you certainly have caught me unaware.” His tone seemed put out, indignant, and Sisi felt herself step back, away from him. What right did he have to be angry with her?

“I had no idea that you and he still . . .” Andrássy put his hands up, not finishing the statement.

“We don’t. We only . . .” She stammered, unsure of what she hoped to say.

“It seems you
do.
”

“It was one time.”

He put his hands up as if to keep her away. “Spare me the details, please, Empress.”

“Empress?”

He shrugged. When he spoke, his voice was hoarse. “Many congratulations to you and the emperor. Another child. I’m sure you’re both elated.”

“He doesn’t know yet.”

“Why not?”

“I haven’t told him. I wanted you to hear first.”

“Why?”

“Why do you think?”

“I’m not sure, to be perfectly honest. I think the man who had the honor of putting the baby in your belly ought to be the first one to know that it’s there.”

She closed her eyes, steadying herself on a nearby sapling. “You make me feel so vile for having . . .”

He stared back, his dark eyes catching a speck of moonlight, giving them the illusion of two small, dark flames. “Why did you feel the need to tell me first? Was this some sort of malicious plan to make me suffer? Good God, Sisi, I knew you had grown frustrated with me of late, but I didn’t know that you wished to destroy me.”

Because I love
you
, she thought. But she swallowed those words.

When Andrássy spoke again, his voice was toneless. “I’m also unclear as to why, months ago, you were asking me to kiss you, when you are clearly very much still participating in your marriage. It is not how you would have had me think it was.”

“That’s not true, Andrássy. Franz and I never . . .” She stepped toward him, trying to take his hands in hers, but he slid them into his pockets.

“Your belly would seem to refute that, Empress.”

“Will you stop calling me that? Please, believe me. The marriage has been over for years.”

“No, Empress. Clearly it has not been.”

She did not know how to reply.

He spoke again: “At least in my case, I know that I will never be happy in my marriage. I have accepted that and I atone for that every day of my life. I have freed her to live her life, and I live mine. We are apart. Separate.”

“Andrássy, please, let me—”

“But you? You have deceived me, Elisabeth.” He shut his eyes now, resting his head in his palm. “Or is it that you can’t decide? Torn between Franz and me? Perhaps you want both of us?”

“You are being cruel and you are very much mistaken, Andrássy. You know that I no longer love Franz like that.”

“But you are not through with him, that much is apparent.”

I did this so that I could be with you
, she thought. Indignant anger began to form like a knot in the pit of her stomach. Balling her fists, she stood up, pushing herself off the trunk of the sapling. She looked him in the eyes as she said it, her words defiant: “I did this because it was what was best for the empire. It was what was best for the emperor. Yes, it was even what was best for
you.
Don’t you see?
I
am the reason that this compromise was reached. I am the one who made all of this possible.”

Andrássy looked down at her belly, his eyes smoldering with anguish. Bitterness. Envy.

“I sacrificed myself for this cause, don’t you see? And yet, you punish me.” Her voice threatened tears now, but she would not allow them to burst forth.

Andrássy looked away. “I feel deceived, Sisi.” He wrung his hands, as if crushing some invisible object. “I feel so sick with jealousy that a part of me longs to run into this castle right now and challenge Franz to a duel. That’s right, I dream of killing the man I made into king.”

What he was saying was punishable by death, and they both knew it, but he would not be stopped. He stepped closer to her now as he spoke, his voice twisting with anguish.

“My worst nightmare has come true—knowing that that man still possesses you.” He put his hands on her arms now, his grip firm as he pulled her close. “At least if Franz killed me, I could be spared the pain that tortures me every single moment of every single day. And if not, well, if I had the good fortune to kill him, then I could have you. Finally. I could love you the way I know I am supposed to love you.”

They were both crying now. Sisi dropped her head to his shoulder as she wept. “I want to be free for you, too.”

Eventually Andrássy lifted her chin up so that their gazes met. He looked down at her, his eyes softer now, but still tortured. “Sisi.” He sighed, his lips just inches from hers. “Do you love me?”

“If I love you, what business is it of yours?”

Andrássy cracked a melancholy, lopsided grin. “How could you quote that to me at such a time?”

“What difference does it make whether or not I love you, Andrássy, when you have made it perfectly clear that we will never be together?”

Andrássy ran his hands through his hair, absorbing these words. He let out a slow exhalation while he paced in front of her, his expression appearing as if he was fighting inside his own mind. Eventually he paused his steps, turning back to her. He was calmer now, his eyes illuminated by the soft, pale glow of the summer moon above them. “You’re right.” He shrugged as he said it. “You’re right.” A long pause followed. “I had held on to this wild hope that, if I could get you crowned as Queen of Hungary, that you would come here. That you could be with me here. And that somehow”—he waved his hand forward between the two of them—“that somehow, we would be allowed to be together.” He stared at her belly. “I now see that that was a vain and foolish hope.”

Sisi nodded, accepting his judgment. Stepping backward, out of his grip and away from him, she said: “If you’ll excuse me, Andrássy.”

He watched her go, his face still in anguish. She offered no explanation. She reentered the castle but she did not walk toward her bedroom. Instead, she turned toward Franz’s suite.

The emperor’s bedchamber was lit. Franz was awake and drinking wine, perhaps to settle his nerves before tomorrow’s momentous event.

“Elisa?” He was surprised to see her enter, ushered in by the guard. Franz smiled a bashful smile, his lips stained purple from wine.

“I need to speak with you. May I join you?” Her tone made it perfectly clear: she did not have the same intention for this late-night visit as she had had the last time she had surprised him by knocking on his door. Franz sensed that and sat back down, gesturing for her to take the seat opposite him.

“Of course, please sit. Can I offer you some wine?”

“Please.”

Franz poured them each a full cup. He nodded at the guard, dismissing him. It was the first time they had been alone, Sisi noted, since the night they had conceived the baby growing inside her.

“Tomorrow has arrived, at last.” Franz stared at her over his cup.

“Indeed.”

Perhaps noticing the way she squeezed the folds of her gown in her fingers, Franz asked, “Is everything all right?”

She did not know how one approached such a conversation with one’s husband. She had not exactly prepared for this. And yet, hadn’t she been prepared for it for many years? She summoned the courage and began, her tone bold. “Franz, you know how much I loved you when we married. Don’t you?”

Franz pursed his lips, pausing a moment. Emotions had never been his preferred topic. “Yes, I suppose I do.”

“I adored you, Franz. I wanted nothing more than to be a loving wife. And empress. And then mother.”

Franz nodded.

“
So quick bright things come to confusion
.”

Franz arched an eyebrow. “Pardon?”

“It’s a line . . . of poetry,” Sisi explained. “Shakespeare.
A Midsummer Night’s Dream.
”

“The one with the donkey?”

“Yes, the one you hated at the Court Theater. Oh, never mind.”

“What is it, Elisa? I’m sure you didn’t come here tonight to quote poetry.”

“Franz.” She took another sip of her wine, pausing to pull her wild thoughts together. “I don’t know whether our marriage went wrong because we allowed . . . other people . . . to come between us.” She placed her wine cup down on the table between them, lowering her eyes. She did not mean it to be an accusation—another argument over a mistress or her mother-in-law. She simply meant to state the facts. “Or whether it was us. That we, at some point, allowed ourselves to grow apart.” She paused, her heart hammering against her rib cage. This was the most candid conversation she had ever attempted to have with her husband. Franz seemed willing to let her continue, so she did.

“You seem fine, Franz. You’ve always seemed fine, somehow. You seem to have negotiated some sort of peace. Away from our marriage.” Now she looked up and saw that he wished to speak.

“Elisa, I am not the one who left, for years.”

She nodded. It was true.

“And I have invited you back into our marriage several times.”

“I know you have, Franz.”

“I still love you.” He said it as if it were the most simple fact in the world.

“And I still love you, Franz, I do. A part of me will always love you.” She sighed. “But there’s only so many times that a girl can allow her heart to be crushed by the same man before that love . . . changes.”

Franz looked down at his hands, which he now folded on the table between them. “You have no idea, the demands I’ve had on me.”

“Because you wouldn’t share them with me.”

“And you weren’t always . . .
present.
I had to find comfort where I could—sometimes in other places.”

Sisi cocked her head. “But you were not ever mine, not entirely mine, to begin with.”

Franz nodded. He knew it was more than just the other women. He had chosen his mother, and his ministers, and his courtiers, on many occasions.

“But I do not mean to say that it was entirely your fault, Franz. It wasn’t. I made the decision, at a certain point, to leave the marriage, as well. In my own way.”

Franz nodded, his fingers absentmindedly stroking his beard.

“Franz, I am going to have a baby.”

Franz lifted his eyes to her now, two wide circles of light blue.

Sisi nodded, but Franz shook his head, as if warding off a fog. “A baby?”

“Yes.”

“Is it . . . ?”

“It’s yours, of course. There has been no other man. Ever.”

“Really?” Franz, his head falling to one side, seemed genuinely surprised to hear that. “Never?”

“No.”

“Not even during all those trips?”

She shook her head. “No one but you.”

He seemed stunned. Incredulous even. “Well, I am speechless,” he stammered. “It’s surprising news. But wonderful all the same. A baby.”

“Franz, I come to you with a request. It’s not a typical request, I would grant that. But then, not much of our marriage has been typical.”

“What is it?” He looked at her, his eyebrows knitting toward one another.

Here came the difficult part, and Sisi forced herself to proceed. “I must leave you, for a time. I beg you, Franz, that if our child is a girl, that you will allow me to raise our child in Hungary. At least for a few years. I must have this child away from the Viennese court. And we are, after all, official royalty here now.” She pressed on, ignoring Franz’s incredulous expression. “If the child is a boy, then I know that you will never allow it. A prince would be in the direct line of succession and must be raised within the imperial court, I know. But if it’s a girl . . .” Her voice trailed off, the longing apparent in her tone.

“Franz, if it’s a girl, I wish to raise her myself. To be a mother, at last, to my own child. Away from court, away from your . . .” She did not need to finish that thought. “I long to have one child who loves me and thinks of me as a mamma. I long to have one child on whom I can pour out all of the stolen and denied love that I’ve felt three times over.”

Franz drained his wine cup, thinking about this. It seemed an interminable pause, and Sisi felt that her heart might shatter her insides. But then Franz looked up, nodding.

“Fine,” he whispered.

Sisi clutched the table with white fingers. “You know that means—away from Vienna. It means, I will stay here.”

He nodded, a sad smile on his face. “I know, Elisabeth. I know what you mean.”

She sat back, stunned at his acquiescence. At how . . .
easily
 . . . Franz had accepted this. But then, she thought, nothing about the years that had brought them to this moment had been easy.