She was right. In the distance, a fanfare of trumpets and military music sounded, followed by the cheers of the people, which grew louder and louder, carried by the wind.
Pippa was carried away by it. Her pulse increased with excitement, and when the flag bearers trotted through the gate, bearing huge banners that fluttered in the wind, and little flower girls in white began throwingflowers, she couldn’t help but grab Henni’s arm and jump up and down and wave along.
“There, there! The emperor! The emperor!” Henni pointed at the tall, lanky figure who sat on top of a white stallion. He was wearing the uniform of an Austrian field marshal, a white coat laden with all sorts of medallions and orders, and red trousers, with a red and white sash across his chest. On his white hair he wore a gold-trimmed black tricorn, which shadowed his face.
“He looks quite splendid,” Henni said. “Befitting a Holy Roman Emperor.”
“Which he no longer is,” Pippa reminded her. “He abdicated that title because of Napoleon. Now he’s only the Emperor of Austria.”
Henni clapped her hands. “And there is Tsar Alexander! He is magnificent.” He was, indeed. Tall, proud, blond and quite handsome, he seemed to bask in the attention the masses were giving him. He puffed out his chest, waved to the right and left, and at one point even bent down to receive some flowers a woman was giving him.
“The man next to him must be Frederick William, the King of Prussia,” Pippa surmised. “He looks very serious.”
What followed were an entourage of splendidly dressed people.
“The archdukes and archduchesses,” Henni said eagerly. “I recognise some of them. Look, there is the crown prince. I don’t think he is particularly good looking, what do you think?”
Pippa studied the thin, pale-looking young man, witha slightly oversized head. “He looks a bit ill, if you ask me.”
Henni nodded. “He’s often ill. He has the falling sickness and has as many as twenty seizures a day. I am surprised he is partaking in the parade because he could have a seizure there and then and just fall off his horse. But he is the crown prince. And oh, next to him is his sister, Maria Clementina. Isn’t she pretty?”
Pippa was surprised to see a woman amongst them. She was very pretty indeed, with golden ringlets framing her face, wearing a dark blue riding costume that seemed to imitate the military style, with golden frogging crisscrossing her chest.
“Oh. Oh!Der Blonde Luzifer!” Henni sighed. “It doesn’t matter what they say about him. He is the most beautiful of the archdukes. No one can hold a candle to him. No one!” Henni placed her hand over her heart and uttered a heartfelt sigh.
Just behind the Archduchess rode yet another tall man in white uniform, with a tricorn on his golden curled head.
Someone shouted “Long live Archduke Leopold!” He inclined his head to acknowledge the greeting.
Then he lifted his head and the sun illuminated his face.
Pippa gasped.
“Isn’t he gorgeous?” Henni swooned.
“Gorgeous.” Pippa blinked in confusion. She shook her head, rubbed her eyes, and looked again.
He was the spitting image of… "Klemens!"
The same figure. The same posture, forshe had seen Klemens ride a horse many times; the same way he held the reins. The same way he inclined the head, the same golden hair, the proud eyebrows and nose, the sensitively curved lips, the firm jaw.
Pippa uttered a disbelieving laugh. “Nonsense. It can’t be. It’s a trick of the eye. Pippa, compose yourself.” She slapped her own cheek.
Henni eyed her curiously. “Why did you do that? And who is Klemens?”
“My betrothed.” Pippa’s eyes were fixed on the figure, who dexterously reined in his skittish horse. “Are you certain that is Archduke Leopold? Not…someone else?” After the horse calmed, he exchanged a few words with his sister Maria Clementina. He inclined his head.
Just like Klemens did with her, whenever he listened to her intently.
“But yes. Undoubtedly so. I have seen him before, you know. His face is well known. But… You mean to say your beloved looks like Prince Lucifer? How lucky for you if he does!”
Pippa laughed again, but it sounded forced. “I know. Ridiculous, isn’t it? It’s of course impossible. My Klemens is a poor student. Except the similarity is…uncanny.” She bent further out of the window, so that Henni grabbed her by the elbow. “You know what? I think it must be the distance. We are too far high up, this is the fourth floor, after all, and they are too far below, and I miss my Klemens so much that I keep seeing his face everywhere. Yes, that must be it. I must be placing Klemens’ face over the Archduke’s in my mind.” He had turned away and moved into the shadows, and now she no longer saw him. She was almost convinced that her explanation was correct.
Henni looked doubtfully down. “I don’t know. I can see very well from here. I can even see the little bouquet of violets the Archduchess has pinned onto her chest. And Prince Lucifer doesn’t seem to look pleased for some reason. Look, he is pulling his mouth downwards. But then he rarely looks pleased, particularly since it became known that he is to marry a haughty Russian grand duchess.”
The Archduke looked like he found the entire thing unutterably tedious.
“Yes, you are right. He looks awfully haughty and arrogant, and, and…bored. But why? How can he be bored surrounded by such joy and festivity? They are throwing flowers at him and all the females are swooning.” Pippa scoffed. “My Klemens would have loved every minute of it. He likes that sort of thing. Klemens smiles all the time. When he does, he has two dimples.” The knot of cold terror that had formed deep within Pippa’s stomach unclenched somewhat.
