Je T'aime.

XXXII. Vienna

It was official. Joseph's birthday masquerade was a definite. Under Isabella's careful watch, the party unfolded in countless papers and sketches of planning. The most interesting detail of this ball was that it was not to be held at court, but rather at the Mehlgrube, a public dance hall located smack in the middle of the city. This decision sparked whispers throughout the court, but Isabella, surprisingly, had the support of the Empress. And that was not easy to achieve.

Less than two weeks remained before the grand party was to take place. The apartments that Isabella and Joseph shared were nearly as scattered as the brains of the couple. The papers and books thrown about could be a roulette as to whether they were the party planning papers of the Princess or the Crown Prince's political agendas. And the mind of dear Isabella the day that I went to see her was no more organized.

I entered her apartments, as was requested of me, and saw Isabella rushing around gathering papers in her arms. It was like she didn't even know that I had entered until I cleared my throat, and she turned around, a beaming smile beginning to cross her face. "Oh, there you are. Dreadfully sorry about the mess. So much is happening all at once." The way she spoke was light-hearted, but it seemed like there was a tinge of stress at the end of her voice.

"Not a problem," I replied looking over the mess with a loss. "Do you want me to help you carry anything?"

Isabella was still shuffling papers, but she directed me to a pile that was on her bedside table. "The blue folder, that'll be all. Thank you."

Curious, I opened the cerulean portfolio. Inside were a few rough sketches of masquerade costumes. The word Euridice was scribbled across the bottom of the page. Though the artistry of the sketch left much to be desired, the actual ideals of the dress were very beautiful. It was a fashionable silhouette, the main construction being some sort of white silk. Floral and ribbon touches decorated the gown like a beautiful tiered wedding cake of the most rich construction. The next paper consisted of a classical Greek inspired costume that was more masculine in nature and featured elements of gold and silver. The bottom of the page, the script matching the one that uttered Euridice, said Orfeo.

"Did you design these yourself?" I asked, admiring the the scripture of thought that was translated from the brain to the movement of the pencil across the page.

"Yes," Isabella replied, "But it's no kind of art. Just trying to get the thoughts down somehow before they flew out of my ear or something," Isabella laughed. She had gathered everything she needed and brought it up to her chest, holding it tightly against her like she was going to lose it. "Is the carriage waiting for us outside?"

"Carriage?" I said, teasing her. "I didn't say anything about a carriage."

Isabella squinted with confusion. "How are we getting into the inner city to visit your seamstress friend without a carriage?"

Clip-clop, clip-clop. Soon the two of us were riding horseback through the streets of Vienna. I rode Gladiator, and Isabella found a friend in Cleopatra, who Albert had left behind before he departed for war. Trailing behind us, yet still keeping a watchful eye without gathering attention, was François.

Isabella tightened her cloak around herself and gazed up at the buildings surrounding her, both modern and traditional. "Vienna never ceases to amaze me," she uttered, though now we were starting to venture into more poverty-stricken areas of the city. "I've toured quite a few cities, and Vienna is my favorite in the Germanic regions."

"Oh?" I questioned playfully, "Only in Germanic regions?"

"Paris is my favorite city out of all," Isabella replied with a nostalgic smile. "You know, this week would have been Carnaval."