Je T'aime.

XXVI. Shakespeare

Court mourning lasted two weeks. Everything was draped in black, and not an ounce of joy was allowed within the entire palace. Charles had been in the Imperial Crypt for two weeks, his heart buried separately in the Augustinian Church. But a cloud of death still hung over everyone, mourning the loss of such a teenager. The snow fell again, trapping a miserable court within brick and mortar.

It was the first of February, which would have been Charles's sixteenth birthday. My mother was most likely locked away in a state of melancholy. The stillness of the halls kept me in my apartments, reading books and dining on breads and cheeses sent up by Pia.

It was around noon, and I held a cheesy bread slice in my mouth as I flipped the page of a book. I was convinced that there was no greater food than cheese on bread, no matter how simple. I brushed a few crumbs from my skirt and kept reading.

It was a rather drab book, I knew, but it was a childhood favorite. A collection of fairy tales. I remember reading these books as a child, with stories of princesses who met their prince charmings by chance, not by a massive multi-national alliance focused on securing the next generation as a political tool. But the authors of these stories barely knew the life of a princess, anyways. And I hardly knew of an orphan housemaid abused by her stepmother who went on to marry a bachelor prince all because of her shoe size. And in glass, no less- I could barely tolerate a few hours of dancing in silk.

It was rather lonely, being in this sitting-room all by myself. Maybe I could ask my mother for a bird or a kitten or a puppy. If only Gladiator was small enough to come into my apartments. If only he could be conscious about when he used the bathroom. I laughed to myself imagining my horse standing in the middle of my bedroom. My namesake day was in July. Maybe I could ask my mother for a smaller pet as a present. Now that I thought about it, I especially wanted a dog. Joseph had his two dogs Hercules and Thesus, but they were much too big. Wilhelmina had a little fluffy dog, a Pomeranian named Marco, who I thought was a little barky brat. My father had a habit for buying her ankle-biters as presents.

I overlooked the drawing in the book, a depiction of the grandest ball in the kingdom, where a charming prince would find his consort in a glorified chimney-sweep. I scoffed, closing the book. These were the dreams of a girl scrubbing floors. They didn't know how miserable this life could be, besides the gold, the champagne, and the diamonds.

I needed some more intelligent literature. I kneeled by my bookshelf, but as I did, there was a knock at my door. "Come in."

"God, Christina, I'm so bored." I looked up to see Isabella in a very pretty dress of dark violet, a black shawl wrapped around her shoulders. Her cap was also decorated with a black ribbon.

"So am I," I replied, watching the princess sink down onto the chaise. "Mourning periods are always boring. We can't do anything."

"Your brother was so unbridled- would he have even wanted any of this misery?"

"Doubtful, but it doesn't matter what he wanted. The court has its practices."

"Ugh," Isabella groaned. She laid on her side on the chaise, folding her arms under her head in a makeshift pillow. "Do you have any plays on that shelf of yours? Can we perform one, just the two of us? That's the only thing I can think of."

"I have Shakespeare. Plenty of Shakespeare. King Lear, Hamlet, Othello-"

"Oh, no tragedies. Not during these days, I'm afraid. Do you have comedies?"

"The Merry Wives of Windsor and A Midsummer Night's Dream."

"Ooh, Midsummer! Midsummer!"

I pulled out the book, a rather old volume that was beginning to fray at the spine. I went to sit next to Isabella, opening the book and laying the spine open in my palm. "There's quite a lot of characters here for two people."

"Then I'll play the women, and you play the men," Isabella suggested. "Easy."

"Alright, then," I said, moving to sit on the chair next to her.