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She smiled.
- “you’ll be a delightful wife and Archduke Leopold will be a happy man.”
I thought: - “Not necessarily”. On the contrary, he probably won’t think so at all. Who knows if, when he sees me, he will compare me with his lost lover? Perhaps he will dislike me for having occupied a position that he would have wanted for another woman.
I sat down at the small table and reread the disturbing message from him that arrived that morning. I asked myself again what the story was, or had been, which had brought him to say to me those words so thick with repressed tears.
What should I not believe? Had there therefore been a scandal at the court of Vienna? What had happened between my future husband and that woman - I do not know how noble?
Evidently it was not a simple love affair between adolescents, without consequences, because otherwise he would not have even mentioned it. And yet, my God, he was only eighteen years old! When did all that (and what was this “all that”?) happen?
I racked my brains for a little while, without obviously drawing anything out, until I had a bad headache and decided to give up trying to resolve that enigma. I did not know if I would manage to stand the burning curiosity for two more months (that much time remained before the wedding), for the sake of argument, it was the case to speak about “that” thing from the first meeting with Leopold.
I closed the letter in a minuscule case of precious wood and inserted it in a secret drawer. I did not want to risk it being found, even by mistake, by some indiscreet sister or by my most curious ladies-in-waiting.
I stayed for a while looking at the night sky until it began to become slightly brighter in the East. I went to bed and fell asleep almost immediately, continuing to dream of a very beautiful young woman who cancelled with just her presence every effort of mine to appear gracious, confident, cultured and refined. In the dream, Peter Leopold appeared as in his portrait, but his eyes did not so much as look at me and, even though he was courteous, he did nothing but smile at her.
I woke up in even more of a bad mood than the day before and my tantrum to get the old Neapolitan governess to follow me, and not only as far as Genoa, became spontaneous and perfect. My father agreed, although objecting that I could not begin my new life with those whims. He knew only too well that in reality I was submissive and obedient like none other of his children and this must have convinced him that he could not deny me such a modest request.
The bad mood however continued still for some days, until it was replaced by the commotion of the goodbyes, mixed with the excitement and nervousness about the unknown future that awaited me in the land of Italy.
Chapter 2
After interminable days of sailing we disembarked at Genoa, where I met my cousin Luisa, who came from Parma and had, in turn, to embark to go to Madrid, as the wife of my brother Carlo. She was only 15 years old. We were two princesses, but we were alone and a little fearful thinking about what awaited us, exactly like any other two girls.
I talked to her about my brother and told her about life in the royal palace of Madrid. I gave her a very detailed description of the people, the places, the climate and the marvellous art galleries, in which she seemed particularly interested. I talked about my family and girlfriends I had left and finally Luisa seemed to calm down.
She did not know anything more about my future husband than had been told to me, even though her sister had some years earlier married Joseph, the older brother of Peter Leopold and the future Emperor.
I could not do so without betraying the oath that I had made and asked her if she had ever heard tell of some romantic scandal that had recently happened in Vienna.
- After all - I thought - she is about to leave and will not be able to gossip with anyone.
She replied no and I drew a breath of relief: perhaps all things considered, Leopold had got caught up by an exaggerated and useless scruple.
We stayed together for five days, then we said goodbye at the port. She took the sea route, I the mountain one in a North-East direction.
I crossed, with my entourage, the Apennines and the whole Padua plain, immersed in a muggy and oppressive heat. We went up towards Modena and then towards the Alps.
Every evening I asked how much further it was to Bolzano, where I had to meet Leopold, and when they told me that we should arrive the day after, I almost felt suffocated.
- “How do I look?”
- “Very beautiful, your highness”.
- “Don’t talk nonsense, I’m not very beautiful. Tomorrow morning, I want the dress with the green flowers and you must come in time to comb my hair and do my make-up”.
- “Don’t worry, Highness, your future husband will find you lovely”.
- It’s not true - I thought - he will compare me with the other woman and immediately hate me.
I was more tense than ever at that horrid thought, I would have wanted to escape, turn back, die that same night, just to not have to suffer his, in my opinion, inevitable, disdainful look, his tolerance.
I did my best to calm myself, but, in the morning, I had evident rings under my eyes, that the skilful make-up by my maids hardly managed to cover.
I got into the carriage for the last few miles that separated me from the meeting. I felt my heart choking my breath with its thundering beat. If I had had a girlfriend around, I would have cried, but there were only strangers with me, come to escort me and I felt very embarrassed.
It was pouring with rain when we stopped and then I saw him for the first time: he was standing under that deluge, head uncovered, waiting for me.
He was tall and slim, a very young face that looked even younger than his eighteen years, a proud bearing, but not arrogant. His dark eyes stared at me for a moment, while I tried to bring out my best smile. He took my hand to help me get down from the carriage and I sensed that he was as nervous as me. He greeted me ceremoniously and accompanied me into the palace where I was lodging.
It was pouring with rain everywhere and I, notwithstanding the moment of extreme tension, smiled to myself.
- “What do you have to smile about, Highness? He asked, curious.
-We are leaving a stream of water behind us.
- Does it seem so funny to you?”
- “Yes, decidedly”, a response at least unusual, not really according to protocol; “our passage certainly will not pass unnoticed”.
Even he smiled for the first time since we had met and that smile completely transformed his face, giving him a pleasant air and lighting up his too serious eyes.
- “You’re right” - he agreed – “we really look like two ducks in a pond”.
I laughed at that that curious expression I had never heard before and he echoed me.
We had to dine together in my apartment that evening.
When he arrived, he was most handsome in his red and gold suit, I had chosen a blue dress embroidered with silver and pearls.
- “What happened to that gracious dress that you had on today?” - he asked me.
- “Why”?
- “I liked it very much”.
- “But is was certainly not suitable for this so special evening.”
- “You say so? Aquamarine is my favourite colour.”
I looked at him and asked myself if he could be serious.
- “Would you have the patience to wait for me fifteen minutes more?”
- “Certainly”.
I disappeared into my rooms and changed in haste and fury, putting on a dress in the colour that he had declared was his favourite.
When I returned to the dining room, he met me with a delicious smile and whispered to me:
- “You have been kind to indulge me, but I don’t want you to believe that it’s your duty to do it in every case.”
- “No” - I said - “but I will always be happy to see you smile like now.”
- “Have they perhaps said that I am not a cheerful type? That I’m too serious and sometimes even sad?”
- “Yes”.
- “And what else have they said about me?”
- Oh God - I thought - here we are.
- “I know many things about you as an Archduke and Prince, about your brilliant studies, your culture, but, sincerely, I don’t know anything about you as a man; I imagine that also you don’t know much more about me.”
He insisted as if he had not heard:
- “What else?”
Then I gave a start - “Do you want to refer to what you mentioned in your letter?”
He stared into my eyes so intensely that I found it hard to bear that look. He made me stay calm whatever thing he revealed to me.
- “No” - I murmured - “they haven’t told me anything about that story and I, notwithstanding I was burning with curiosity, haven’t asked anyone anything. It seemed to me indelicate towards each other and I have decided that I would have learnt it only from you. If you don’t want to talk to me about it, don’t worry, I will respect your discretion and your wishes. Talk to me about it only when and if you wish. It’s your right to not say anything if it’s so painful for you. Because it is, isn’t it? I understood it as soon as I read those words.”
Peter Leopold did not reply, he only grasped my hand and brought it to his lips. I saw that his eyes were moved to tears.
- “I thank you for your sensitivity. I swear to you that I will tell you everything, one day. It’s not easy for me, but perhaps with you I will do it. I hope that we will be friends.”
- “Friends?” - I murmured and from my voice there must have leaked out the delusion that, notwithstanding everything, had invaded me at those words.
- “Is that not enough for you? Do you want” - he hesitated a moment - “love?”
I remained silent and thought of the only love that had lightened my life and, comparing it at this moment, felt a cold chill in my heart.
We sat down facing each other and not one of us had much desire to eat. We looked at each other, scrutinising each other in silence and chasing each other’s thoughts, while the waiters bustled around us.
I found him quite pleasant and interesting, in his manners and looks. Sensitive and sweet, which moreover confirmed the impressions his letter had made on me, but also direct and frank when it was necessary.
I felt a little embarrassed before his gaze, which was examining me with scrupulous attention, even though not arrogantly.
I hoped that I did not seem too insignificant to him nor too foolish. The extended silence at a certain point seemed intolerable to me and, I do not know why, I began to tell him about my childhood in Naples and the games in the park at the royal palace at Caserta, the marvellous climate and the sea.
- “Have you ever seen the sea?”
- “No, never.”
- “Oh, - I smiled - “in Naples it’s marvellous. Blue and green, transparent and warm. At sunset, the sun leaves golden stripes on the water that appear to contain all its light, almost to console us for the night that is coming and, in the evenings with a full moon, it’s a dream. Also in Vienna does the starlit sky appear to be a golden quilted blanket?”
He smiled, resting his chin on his hand, “Are you always so poetical?”
I do not know if he said it ironically, but by now the memories of my past, which was around the corner and yet it seemed to me centuries ago, crowded my soul so much that I could not stop. In the end, I had told him more than I would have wanted, but I did not regret it. I felt lighter and calmer now.
- “Have you ever been in love?” - He then asked me.
- “No” - I lied.
H blushed and closed his eyes - This however was a lie. I did not believe I deserved it.
- “Why do you want to know about me what you do not want to tell me about yourself?”
- “You are right, I apologise.”
- “And yet I want to be sincere with you. I was sixteen years old when I fell in love with a young gentleman in my brother’s entourage.”
- “Do you still love him?”
- “No; it was, I think, an adolescent thing, a little too much daydreaming. Or perhaps it was only a way of saying to myself that my soul and my heart were mine only and no-one could have them if I did not allow it - well, life is not like that, I know, but at times you need to just delude yourself in order to not die.”
- “Die? Did you die when they told you that you would have to marry me and not your lover? Certainly, you would have preferred it to have been him to give you your first loving kiss and make you dream and not an Austrian archduke, surly and cold, a little sad and certainly not handsome like your Spanish gentleman.
I thought of the resentment smouldering for days inside me at the idea of not being able to realise a dream and end up in the arms of a stranger and I kept quiet to not hurt him.
I now felt suddenly tired and I no longer had the desire to open up my heart to someone who did not intend to open himself up at all.
Peter Leopold noticed and apologised.
- “I have been indiscreet, excuse me”. “You have been sincere and I instead cannot manage to tell you anything about myself.”
- “My love was a dream, almost a fine game, I knew it from the start; even though I suffered enough, it did not leave too painful wounds in my heart. I did not add “Like yours”, but he understood.
Contravening every rule of etiquette, he took my hand again and kissed it. I felt his lips slightly trembling. I looked at him and saw that he was pale and his eyes seemed lightly circled with dark and misty, like from a fever.
- “Do you feel well?” - I asked.
- “Yes, why?”
- “Excuse me, you are so pale.”
- “I am well, I am just very tired. - If you give me permission, I will withdraw.
- “Certainly, your Highness. I also, indeed, am tired and over the next few days many commitments await us.”
- “Right” - he said, bowing his head respectfully.
I saw him furtively pass a hand over his forehead and, when he got up to leave, he seemed to me to stagger slightly.
- “Your highness” - I called him back
