Je T'aime.

XLIV. Promenade de l'Orangerie

"Jesus Christ," I hissed as Pia pressed an ice cold spoon to my neck.

"Stay still," Pia grumbled, moving my head back to its former position. "I know this works, just give me a second."

"I could just wear the fichu again."

"You are not wearing that hideous thing to the palace opening. You'll look like a nun. See, it's already going away."

I glanced at myself in the mirror, already done up in my light blue gown, matching ribbons twisting through my hair. Pia lifted the spoon from my neck and the purple spot was indeed fading. "Hey, it's working!"

Pia grinned slyly. "See, I told you," she moved towards the window, parting the curtains, a streak of sunlight stretching across her face. "Wow, the garden's full of people. Come look."

I came beside her and gazed out the window at the garden, brilliantly turning green, dotted with figures dressed mostly in spring-appropriate lights and pastels. There was a large marquise in the green, from which I could see tables being set up and blooms of rose decorations entwining the poles. It truly was a spectacle. I said to Pia, "Can I please have my hat?"

As much as I wanted Pia's company, I knew I could not have it in such a capacity. I ventured down into the brilliantly decorated gardens with the intent of making a direct line for the Orangerie. There I found my mother, who wore a sash of Austria across her torso, as she most often did when she was most proud. Behind her was her most trusted official, Count Kaunitz.

"Ah, and there she is. How lovely you look," my mother hissed both of my cheeks, her diamond and emerald necklace glimmering in the sunlight. 

"Thank you, Mama, you are as majestic as always."

"Come, come, my dear," my mother ushered me to her side. "Papa waits in the Orangerie."

We continued across the garden, Count Kaunitz's walking staff crunching in the path's gravel. He offered a gentile smile to me. "I can smell the orange blossoms all of the way from here," he said, looking to me and squinting slightly in the sun. 

"Yes, it's wonderful," I replied. The Orangerie was a long, beige colored building with high arched windows that let in plenty of light for the young trees to prosper. It stood sparkling in the pleasant light of day, the surrounding spectators welcoming its return to the new season. "I must certainly visit here more often."

With a flourish of trumpets and a swaying sea of bows and curtsies, we entered the Orangerie. Though in the shade of the building, it was warm and sticky with humidity. Mingling amongst the wide, green branches of the orange trees were many beautifully dressed members of the court, snacking on refreshments stacked high on a long table. There were piles upon piles of fresh fruits, cascading across the table like a materialized rainbow. Standing by the table with a glass of champagne was a man that I didn't recognize, but he wore a pink and green sash of diplomatic service across his chest. My mother called out, "Hello, Ambassador!" cheerily. 

 As we approached, the man bowed courteously, but with a smile of knowing. "Your Majesty, Your Highness, Your Grace." 

Count Kaunitz smiled warmly at the man as he rose from his bow. "Welcome home, Florimond."

The young man grinned. "Thank you, sir, I'm grateful that I can be back in Vienna, even though it will be for a short time. Then I shall be off to Saint Petersburg, and hopefully I can work my way into possible peace treaty proceedings through the Russians." 

"I have full faith in you, Ambassador Mercy," said my mother, "You did a splendid job as the Ambassador to Sardinia at Turin." 

"Thank you, Your Majesty."