I. The Archduchess

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I stood in the east drawing room of the palace of which I dwelled. I glanced up from the canvas on the easel in front of me and gazed out into the garden. With a sudden stroke of inspiration, I added a streak of color to my painting. My eldest sister Marianna leaned over my shoulder. "I like it, Mimi," she said, her eyes moving from the painting to the garden and back again.

"Thank you," I replied. "I hope I can finish it soon. You know how much Joseph loves this garden. I'd like to give it to him sometime. I know he wanted a portrait, but I just can't draw human figures that close."

Marianna sipped her tea. "I see. Well, practice makes perfect, right?" she said with a grin.

"Right." I turned back to my work again. I absent-mindingly reached over to clean my brush, catching myself before I filled my teacup with paint.

My other sister spoke up from her reclined position on the chaise lounge. "Maybe it can be a wedding gift from you. I'm sure he'd like that. That princess he's marrying- her apartments look pretty bare as of late."

I scoffed lightheartedly at my sister. "The wedding's tomorrow, Liesl. I couldn't finish it in time even if I worked all night. It's going to have to wait, I'm afraid."

Liesl smiled. "A christening present, maybe? I'm sure it won't be long after the wedding that we hear the pitter-patter of little feet around here. I've gone far too long without holding a baby."

Marianna rolled her eyes. "Maximilian is three. You're acting like you haven't seen a baby in 20 years."

"It feels like it!" Liesl exclaimed, before falling back into the chaise with a sigh. "Joseph is the heir to Mama's throne. He has to have heirs. What will become of the dynasty?"

"Well," I commented, "There are thirteen of us. If he doesn't have heirs, one of us will. Why do you think Mama endured so many labors?"

"It certainly won't be me," Marianna said. "I'm barely going to let Papa marry me off. I'm too sickly and deformed for any prince to want me anyways." I glanced over at my sister, my eyes catching on the strange curvature in her back that she had always loathed. Her lungs were left crippled, as well, after a near-death bout of illness three years ago. Mama always said that she had 'the lungs of a bird'.

"Yeah, and he'll let you. You know you're Papa's favorite. Like Mimi is Mama's," Liesl said.

"Oh, Liesl, hush. You know Mama loves us all. Her eldest son is getting the heir treatment right now. Her baby is a bridegroom," I rebutted. "If we're ever brides, we'll all get our days to be doted on."

"Who would you marry, Mimi?" Marianna asked. "Some foreign prince? I heard the Prince of Wales is a delight. Doesn't he have brothers? I bet he has brothers with hefty allowances and country houses. Or a Frenchman- you could live at Versailles! I've heard it's an artist's haven there. Or maybe-"

I let out a chuckle, stopping Marianna's rambling. "I'm only eighteen, Marianna. I have time left to think about it."

"Joseph's new bride is eighteen, and she's already been married by proxy and shipped all of the way from Italy." said Liesl.

"Oh, I know who!" Marianna exclaimed. "That friend of yours, the Prince of Saxony. What's his name? Augustus? Alfred? Adolf? He's an art collector, isn't he?"

"Albert. His name is Albert, you know this. He and I are good friends. He may be too low in rank for a marriage to ever be considered between us. He has three older brothers and his country is constantly at risk of invasion. Besides, aren't we cousins of some sort? His mother is Mama's cousin, right?"

"I don't remember being cousins stopping anyone," Liesel remarked from behind her teacup.

"True," I replied. I glanced out of the window and into the finely-manicured garden. I saw my brother, Joseph, a year my senior and a husband-to-be. He paced quietly back and forth, his head hanging low. He always paced when he was deep in thought. My hand lifted to the canvas, seemingly with a mind of its own. I began to sketch Joseph in the garden, his coat-tails lifting slightly in the breeze behind him. The darkened blue of his clothes and the bright hues of the garden's flora made the artistic side of my brain nearly dance.

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