Je T'aime.

XXII. Jack Frost

The new year came, called 1761, and with it snow fell on Vienna, coating everything in the whiteness of a pure winter. It covered the heads of the statues and the tallest of steeples. Icicles hung from the roof of the palace, and within the city's most central point, the Danube was coated with a layer of ice. By the third of January, the palace grounds had become a winter wonderland.

The city had slowed to almost nothing in this event, and my father's gardeners spent all day outside shoveling the snow from the walkways of the palace gardens. But the most excited with the snow were the children.

In the early morning, in order to escape the slight melt that the afternoon sun would bring, the youngest archdukes and archduchesses rushed forward, whooping and cheering, into the green. Leopold and Ferdinand begin to calculate the best tobogganing route, while Carolina and Antonia built the foundations for a snowman. Maximilian clung to the hand of Madame von Brandeis, so bundled up that he could hardly walk. With me were Albert, Isabella, and Liesl. We turned to wave at Marianna, who watched us out of the window. The cold did terribly for her joints, especially her back.

With each blow of the wind, a swirl of powdery snow would be moved from the roof of the palace and flutter onto those below. In the sun it glittered like little diamonds, shimmering wonderfully as it fell. As we exited the front doors of the palace, the small layer of dusty snow crunched beneath my feet. This path had been paved last night before the midnight cold could freeze it over, but intermittent snowfall and drift had left the hard work of the gardeners in vain. Albert stuffed his hands in his pockets. "Quite the chill," he said.

The fur on Liesl's cloak fluttered slightly in the wind. "The sun is so bright, you'd think that it would warm up a little out here."

Isabella was watching the children play. "I'll be alright, I think. I'm wearing four petticoats."

I turned to her, examining the puffy volume of her magenta-colored skirts. "That explains it."

I watched Carolina and Antonia build the base of their snowman, struggling to roll a ball of snow that was nearly as tall as they were. Charles came trampling over from the sledding mission to help them, and with his teenaged strength, they were able to get it to stay in place securely. Suddenly the girls realized we were watching them. "Izzy! Mimi! Liesl!"

We ran over to where the snowman was being constructed, where footprints had ruined the perfection of the fresh snow. Upon seeing the nearly knee-deep snow, Isabella said to Liesl, "Liesl, care for a stroll?"

"Of course," Liesl replied. The two continued down the path towards the now drained fountain in the middle of the courtyard.

"Alright, then, Albert. You're helping us with the snowman." I stepped into the snow next to my siblings, and Albert quickly followed.

"Hey, Saxon!" exclaimed Charles. "Help me lift the torso, would you?"

Albert and Charles lifted the torso of the snowman onto the base, much to the delight of the girls. They began to roll the snowman's head. "So," Albert began, "Where's Joseph?"

"Princely duties, Isabella said," I replied.

Charles laughed to himself. "What a killjoy. See, this is why I'm the superior brother."

Albert raised an eyebrow at Charles. "Is that so?"

"Don't get him started-" I tried to say, but Charles was already off on a rant.

"Yes. See, when Joseph was born, our mother was Just a Crown Princess, but when I was born she was the Empress. So as the son of an Empress, I am higher in rank, and I should be the heir."

Albert paused, one of his eyebrows raising in puzzlement. "But Joseph is four years older. That's not how it works."

"That will be how it works. I'll marry an important princess, and I'll rally supporters to get my spot. Emperor Charles VIII," Charles paused to beam. "Has a ring to it, doesn't it?"

"I suppose," Albert replied. "But what princess would that be?"

Charles replied without hesitation, "Maria Luisa of Spain."

"My niece?" Albert inquired.

"Precisely, sir! And then I will have Spain behind me!"

"But Isabella is Luisa's cousin, and is older than she. Isabella is of the Spanish house too. And with her being married to Joseph-" I tried to explain.

Charles waved away my statement. "Nonsense, nonsense. As the younger son it is my natural right to fight with my brother for the throne."