“Save us tales of your antics from your time when you were working on a farm. You are an imperial servant now. A maid who gives off a stenchis a disgrace.”
Frau Benedikt pulled out a pristine handkerchief and lifted it to her nose. “Clean up at once. If I detect any other smell than lavender about your being, you will be given the sack immediately.”
Pippa’s face brightened. “You mean I need to bathe? With lavender soap? But where? And when?”
Frau Benedikt closed her eyes as if supplicating a prayer.
“You’ll be sweeping all corridors and clearing all grates. Alone.”
“But the bath—” How was additional labour supposed to improve her smell?
“Wash yourself in the courtyard fountain. And because you simply cannot seem to hold your tongue, your free day on Sunday will be revoked.”
Pippa stared at her, aghast. “But that is the day of the parades of the emperors!”
Like all the others, Pippa had looked forward to leaving the confines of the palace and going out into the streets and to watch the arrival of Tsar Alexander and the King of Prussia, who would be greeted by the emperor personally. The three of them would ride through the city gates, in a glorious parade of victory over Napoleon Bonaparte, who was safely banished to Elba—may the monster who has caused so much suffering to the Austrian people perish there and be for evermore forgotten! The entire city would be transformed to a fair with music, dancing, food, street performers and fireworks, not to mention that one could get a glimpse of the monarchs who were to ride through the city. Pippa did not want to miss out on it for the world.
“Indeed,” Frau Benedikt replied coolly. “You will stay in the palace doing double duty.”
Pippa shook her head so fiercely, her hairpins nearly went flying. “No. All due respect, ma’am, but?—“
Frau Benedikt stepped up to her and jabbed a finger toward her nose. “If you say another word, if you so much as utter another sound from that infernal mouth of yours, I will cancel all your free days for the rest of the year, and the most exciting activity you will ever do is that of scrubbing the coal cellar.” Her voice was so soft, so threatening, that the little hairs on Pippa’s arms stood on end. Truly, if they had sent that woman after Bonaparte, she would have single-handedly won all the wars for the allied forces years ago.
“Is that understood?”
Pippa stared at her, tears pricking in her eyes. She bit her tongue so hard she almost bled. Defeated, she nodded.
“Excellent. She understands. Go to the Amalienburg now and clean all the side corridors in the servants’ passages. Alone.”
All the corridors! In order to accomplish that, she had to do so during her supper time, which meant that she would go to bed hungry that night.
The maids filed past her, most of them smirking, but some gave her looks of pity. Pippa could not make up her mind which she detested the most.
“You’re lucky that Frau Benedikt did not dismiss you,” Greta said, pulling out a kerchief and wiping her cheek. “You have black streaks of graphite on your cheek, and your tears aren’t helping.”
Pippa looked at her gratefully. “Thank you. I’m so sorry she picked on you on my account. I’m a burden for you.”
Greta shook her head. “Nonsense. Now, go quickly and finish your job. I’ll try to smuggle out your supper somehow.”
Then she took her bucket, shovel and brush, and set out for the corridors in the Amalien wing.
The Amalien wing consisted of a row of apartments in the northwest of the palace, which the empress had newly renovated specifically for the monarchs who had come to the congress.
“See the positive side,” Pippa grumbled to herself as she climbed the stairs, “for now you have a good reason to be in this part of the palace, and maybe you can manage to sneak into Prince Lucifer’s chambers without anyone noticing…” Even if she could not manage to get inside, maybe she could bribe the maid who worked there to give her the contents of the wastepaper basket. If all else failed, she could note where she threw the contents, and rifle through them there.
Oh woe, woe, woe! How low she had fallen! Rifling through other people’s waste… What would Papa think if he were to see her now?
Pippa heaved a deep sigh. “But, fear not. You can do this.”
The walls of the palace were so thick, entire rooms could be hidden in there. People flitted to and fro, footmen, servants, maids, deliverers and messengers. Within the simple, whitewashed walls there were small, narrow doors that led to spiral staircases up and down, which ledto the state apartments, and to the personal apartments of the imperial family.
As Pippa swept, she tried to figure out which door led to where. A maid with an apron hurried through a narrow door, bearing a coffee tray. Before the door closed, Pippa saw a glimpse of another world. She saw a flash of gold and scarlet, plush carpets and gilded mirrors—then the door closed. The maid rushed towards her, a weary look on her face. “Nothing will satisfy her today,” she muttered, placing the tray on a narrow table by the wall. From there, a page boy would pick it up and carry it to the kitchen.
“The empress?” Pippa guessed.
The girl wiped her hands on the apron, leaned against the wall and closed her eyes for a moment. “Who else?”
Pippa was awestruck. Beyond that simple door were the empress’s apartments.
