Je T'aime.

XVIII. Minerva's Call

I glanced up from my painting, illuminated by candlelight, as orange and pink streaked across the horizon. "Oh, God, was I up all night?" I went to rub my eyes, but I stopped myself. My hands were covered in paint. Shades of peach, brown, and pink were all over my hands. A bright streak of blue from Isabella's gown covered my palm. There was even a few spots of red across my fingers. I had painted a miniature of Joseph on the painted Isabella's bracelet. You know, to keep it cool.

I blew out the candles that surrounded me and let the sunlight take over. I plucked a hand-fan off of my dressing table and began to fan my work, hoping it would dry the paint a little faster. Oil paints always took forever to dry. Though I was frustrated with myself, the painting itself looked great. Carefully, I signed my name in the lower left corner. I took the painting and propped it up near the window where it could have time to dry. Within a few days, I could varnish it.

I went to my wash basin in the dressing closet and began to try and scrub the paint from my hands. Once it was all off, I could finally rub my eyes. I didn't notice how tired I was until I finally pulled out of my painter's trance. Coffee. Coffee. I needed coffee. Otherwise, I would collapse right back into bed. I threw on a loose gown and yawned. Where was Pia when you needed her? Suddenly, there was a knock at the hallway door. Puzzled, I opened the door between my bedchamber and the sitting room. "Come in, Pia!" I said, although I wasn't sure why Pia would come in through the hallway when she had a service entrance.

"I'm not Pia, unfortunately," said the voice, which I immediately recognized. "But I did bring some coffee!"

"Coffee?" I replied, swinging open the door with a wide grin, revealing Prince Albert of Saxony carrying a tea-tray. "You have my full attention."

Albert and I sat at the chairs surrounding the table. Albert poured steaming mugs for himself and I and handed one to me. "So," I began, plucking a pastry and a few pieces of fresh fruit from the tray. "What's on your mind so early in the morning?" I was without sunlight in the sitting room, but the sun must have been thoroughly risen by now.

Albert stirred his drink, the spoon clinking against the fine porcelain. "Though I do enjoy seeing you at daybreak, I'm afraid my news is not as joyful," He paused and shoved a strawberry into his mouth, thinking carefully as he chewed. "The war rages, Christina, as you are well aware. And if King Frederick continues his practices, I may have to go and fight for Saxony."

My heart sunk. "What? You can't."

"Frederick keeps targeting Dresden. He took it three years ago at the start of the war, and this summer he shelled my people. I can't let this stand anymore, Christina. Dresden is my home and the Saxons are my people. I will see that Frederick and his armies are driven far, far away from Saxony. I'm tired of waiting for your mother to take action. I'm going to go," Albert sighed. "It's my duty."

"What do you know about war, Albert? You could get killed."

"My father made sure I had a proper military education. I will not be a cowardly man. A prince is not cowardly. I will command a regiment of good Saxon men, and I will guide them to drive those Prussians back. I only hope that God will guide me. And if I die, I die for Saxony, and I am content with that."

My heart racing, I glanced down at the fruit that was laid across my plate. I picked up a cherry. It was a little softer than expected. The cherry burst between my fingers, oozing out a few drops of deep burgundy juice. With this talk of war and bloodshed, I was disgusted, and I dropped the cherry back onto the place. Though I knew it was a bit irrational, all I could think of was Albert marching off to war and never returning home. Though princes were officers and were not usually the target, a stray musket-ball did not know whose flesh it had landed in, prince or pauper. I sighed, but I couldn't bring myself to look up at him. I could only sit there and watch the steam rise off of my coffee cup. "I don't think I could live with myself if you were killed out there."