Je T'aime.

VIII. Greensleeves

For five days, Isabellla's advice lingered in my mind. It was always at the edge of my lips, but I just couldn't find the right time to finally set it free. With every moment that her words stayed dormant in my head, the more I took it apart and analyzed it, piece by piece. I finally decided that before I even brought my ideas to Albert, I had to get the opinion of my parents. This, I knew, would be difficult- between imperial affairs and leisure, my parents rarely had a spare moment together for me to council them.

Finally, on a rainy day of late October, I built up the courage to finally tell my parents my plan. I knew that after their council meetings they would be lounging in my mother's salon, enjoying an afternoon coffee. I took a deep breath and knocked on the door. As I waited for a response, I noticed that my hands were shaking. No, I thought. This was my life. I had the right to take charge.

"Come in," I heard my mother say from behind the door. I slowly opened the door and stepped into the salon. My mother was seated in a great armchair, a stack of imperial papers beside her. She sat her silver coffee cup down atop the papers. "Hello, Mimi, dear," My father sat on the chaise diagonally across from my mother, his nose buried in a book. "Have a seat, have a seat!"

I sat down in another chair next to my mother. I took a deep sigh, trying to remember the script that I had made for myself in my head. "I wanted to ask you both something," my mother leaned forward, intently ready to listen. Her slight action gave me a small grain of reassurance.

"Theresa," my father began. "Don't we have more important things to do?"

"Franz," my mother snapped. "You're sitting here sipping coffee and reading natural science books. I think you have time for what your daughter has to say. Go ahead, Mimi."

I tried to regather myself before I proposed my ideas. My father's interventions had thrown my thoughts off course. "Joseph's wedding has encouraged me to begin thinking about my own marriage," I began. "I'm eighteen now, and we all know that my marriage is soon impending. And although it isn't customary, I'd like to get myself involved in my own arrangements. It is my life, after all. And my first note would be to put forth a husband for myself. Prince Albert of Saxony. I do care for him greatly, and I think that we would make a very happy pair. He and I-"

"No," my father said outright. "We already have someone picked out for you."

My mother intercepted. "We didn't decide on that, Franz. It was just an idea."

"Hush, Theresa."

"I am the Empress! You do not tell me to hush!"

My father ignored my mother's words. "My sister's son, Prince Benedetto, Duke of Chablais, is a good man who would happily marry you. He has a sizable estate in Northern Italy, near Turin, and is closer to you in age than Albert. For as long as I am alive, I would like to see you married to him. The Houses of Lorraine and Savoy need unity that can only be found through marriage."

I was at a loss for words. "But I've never met Benedetto. And have you? At least you both know Albert. Isabella says he really likes me. You could give us one of your duchies, Papa. We'd be so happy together."

My father scoffed. "So you're getting romance advice from a girl who's been married for five days, via an arranged marriage? Do you know how silly you sound, Mimi?"

"Franz! Enough!"

I finally snapped. "Well, damn me for wanting to live a good life with someone I actually like!"

My father stood from his chair. "You ungrateful child! My little sister died giving birth to that boy. She died, Mimi! And you want to marry some unimportant Polish kid? Get out. Now."

"But Papa-"

"OUT! NOW!"

I left the salon, slamming the door behind me. From behind the door, I could hear my mother telling my father off. I felt the tears building up in my eyes. I quickly wiped them away and headed towards a place where I knew I could finally be alone- the drawing room.